Hell to Pay: Book Two of the Harvesters Series

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Hell to Pay: Book Two of the Harvesters Series Page 7

by Luke R. Mitchell


  Jarek stayed close to Rachel’s side as they followed the odd duo. Now that the skirmish had cooled, the two didn’t seem to harbor any violent intent toward him and Rachel, but it never really paid to drop one’s guard. Especially when one was dealing with a freaking raknoth.

  “There’s something odd about these two, sir,” Al said quietly in his earpiece.

  “No sh—”

  “Aside from the obvious oddities, I mean.”

  Jarek didn’t quite know what it was, but he didn’t disagree with Al. The questions churning through his head were about as numerous as the leaves in the canopy above them.

  This Haldin guy had definitely worked some telekinetic mojo on him during their fight. Jarek wasn’t a doctor of arcanism, but that probably meant Haldin was gifted like Rachel, right?

  Hell if he knew. And it still didn’t exactly explain how the guy had managed to catch a punch that would’ve knocked a raknoth on his ass with a bare hand. Maybe it had just been a clever use of his abilities. Or maybe Haldin was something else entirely. Hell, maybe they were dealing with a raknoth arcanist. Was that a thing?

  It probably would be in his nightmares now.

  And, of course, there was one more possibility. Haldin—and maybe Alton too—could be one of these rakul the Red King had warned them about.

  Without any way of knowing, Jarek’s only real option was to keep on his toes and be ready to fight until he had damn good reason not to be.

  If Haldin was human, that still raised the pointed question of what the hell he was doing running around with Alton the raknoth. Jarek, like pretty much everyone else on the planet, didn’t know all that much about the raknoth, but he’d never heard tell of such a thing. Sure, the Red King and the Overlord had plenty of human cronies—thousands actually—but those men were more slaves than partners. Some had started as mercenaries. Some had been plucked from the streets. Most, though, seemed to have been tortured or otherwise mentally tampered with until they were loyal servants.

  The relationship between Haldin and Alton seemed like something else entirely.

  Beside him, Rachel called for a slight adjustment to their trajectory. About a hundred yards later, the woods opened into an impressive outdoor amphitheater.

  A dark wooden stage—old but in good repair, like the rest of Unity—stood at the base of the semicircular basin. Opposite the stage, the amphitheater’s seating rose along the incline of the basin in a series of large, grassy steps, each one lined along the edge with smooth gray stone to form natural benches. Four lines of neatly groomed trees separated the basin steps into organized sections, contained within sets of smaller stone staircases on either side. Clearly, someone—or multiple someones—put a lot of time into keeping the place pristine.

  It was one of the most unnecessary things Jarek had seen in the past fifteen years.

  It was also kind of cool.

  Haldin and Alton followed the direction of Rachel’s waving staff and sank down on the first stone step to the left. Jarek and Rachel remained standing. Jarek focused back the way they came with help from Fela’s auditory sensors and decided the voices in the woods behind them didn’t seem to be coming any closer.

  For now, they were alone.

  “Right then,” Haldin said, hazel eyes shifting back and forth between them. “I’m sure you guys have a few questions.”

  No shit.

  And now, on top of the other thousand, Jarek had to wonder why Haldin was expecting the questions to be unidirectional. Sure, a human/raknoth duo was weird, but between Fela and Rachel’s abilities, it wasn’t like he and Rachel were just another pair of everyday citizens. So why was Haldin’s default assumption that they should be confused and intrigued by his and Alton’s presence?

  Maybe these two had simply been around and seen a lot of shit. Maybe they were just spectacularly self-centered. Or—and this seemed like the most likely option—maybe they were hiding something, and Haldin was self-conscious about it.

  “What,” Jarek said, “you think this is the first time we’ve just happened to bump into an arcanist, chase him into the woods, and get jumped by his raknoth sidekick? I call that a Tuesday. But now that you mention it, I guess there might be a few particulars, like who you are, why you’re here, and, uh …” He tapped at the chin of his faceplate. “Oh yeah. Whether you happen to know anything about the weird ship that’s been causing a stir around here. Word on the street is that it looks like a—”

  “Let’s start with the first two,” Rachel said. “What are you doing here?”

  Haldin glance at Alton. “We’re looking for someone. It’s kind of a long story.”

  Rachel looked less than impressed. “You’re trespassing in my home with a raknoth. I think it’s safe to say we have the time. So you can give me some fucking answers, or I can wipe these steps with you until they fall out.”

  Haldin watched her for a long stretch, his expression neutral and calculating.

  Alton smirked, but his smooth baritone was only a hint condescending when he spoke. “We’re not here to hurt anyone. We came here to help.”

  “To help who?” Rachel asked.

  “Everyone.”

  Thank god they weren’t going to be cryptic about it or anything.

  Jarek rolled his hand in a keep it coming gesture. “You might have to use more than one word at a time if we wanna get somewhere today.”

  Alton’s smirk only grew. “I thought you had the time.”

  With a careful mental command, Jarek opened his faceplate so the raknoth could see his eyes as he patted the hilt of the Big Whacker. “You know, I cut a raknoth to pieces with this thing two days ago.”

  “Okay, look,” Haldin said, raising a hand.

  He probably meant it as a pacifying gesture, but Rachel tensed and raised her staff in return.

  Haldin dropped the hand. “This isn’t necessary. We’re here to help your peop—to help rid you of the raknoth before it’s too late.”

  Jarek made a show of looking around at their surroundings. “Yeah. Did you miss the whole Catastrophe thing? It’s already a bit too late.”

  “And why would you be looking to save us from your own people anyways?” Rachel asked Alton.

  Alton’s face was unreadable. “I have my own goals here, I admit. But they are synergistic with Haldin’s, and with the ultimate good of the people of Earth.”

  “I know this planet’s been devastated already,” Haldin said, glancing at Alton for what had to be the hundredth time, “but it could get worse. A lot worse.”

  Worse as is rakul worse? He almost asked outright then decided it was better to keep them talking before playing what limited hand he had.

  “You can imagine our skepticism about a philanthropic raknoth,” he said to Alton. “Your kind don’t exactly have a peaceful track record with ours. Frankly, I’m wondering if you didn’t slam me through that tree back there and if I’m not just dreaming all of this right now.”

  “I could pinch you if you’d like.” Alton held up his thumb and forefinger with a disconcerting grin and sprouted a pair of wicked-looking claws.

  “Not helping, Alton,” Haldin said. “Look, I get it. My people have lost too much at the hands of the raknoth as well.” A shadow of genuine pain crossed his face. “I’ve lost more than most fighting them. For a long time, I wanted to wipe them away from this universe, but it’s not that simple.”

  The more Haldin talked, the more something didn’t seem right about him. Something about the way he phrased things and the way he kept glancing at his raknoth pal—not to mention the fact that he had a raknoth pal at all—was just off.

  “What do you mean, ‘it’s not that simple’?” Rachel said.

  Haldin glanced at Alton. Again.

  “Stop that,” Rachel said.

  Apparently the constant furtive glances were itching her heebie-jeebie button as well. A quick look at her expression, though, made him think something else might be afoot.

  “What’s
up?”

  Her eyes remained locked on Haldin and Alton. “They’re talking.”

  It took a second, but it clicked. “Ah.”

  Telepaths. Tricky bunch.

  “Granted, I’m not so good at manners,” Jarek said, “but that seems pretty damn rude, fellas.” To Rachel, he added, “What are they saying?”

  “I can’t hear them,” she said. “I just feel the connection.”

  “Right.” He shifted his weight, suddenly feeling like it wouldn’t hurt to be ready to hack limbs off.

  “Sorry,” Haldin said. “You’re right—it’s not polite. Here.” He pulled on a thin chain at his neck until a round pendant popped out from under his shirt. He turned a tiny dial on the pendant and looked at Rachel. “Better?”

  Was that a cloak like Rachel’s then? The weary nod she gave Haldin suggested so.

  “What we’re facing,” Haldin said, “what we’re trying to do, it’s probably not going to be a wildly popular idea. We were just discussing how much we should be telling you.”

  “Well if that doesn’t just scream trustworthy …” Rachel muttered.

  Haldin raised his eyebrows, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “I realize this might be your home, but it’s still kind of funny to hear that from the people who haven’t told us the first things about themselves. Not to be confrontational, but we’re talking in good faith right now, not because we’re trembling at your power.”

  Rachel looked like she was deliberating whether to incinerate the pair of them or go for a record in the long toss. Jarek didn’t blame her. It wasn’t like he was a fan of people strutting their stuff in front of him, but he also had a certain amount of admiration for people who were cool under pressure. Plus, the fact that Unity wasn’t his home probably didn’t hurt either where keeping a level head was concerned.

  “I’m Jarek Slater,” he said, consciously shifting to a slightly less confrontational stance.

  Haldin gave him an appreciative nod.

  Jarek gave Rachel an expectant look.

  “Fine,” she said. “If it’ll make this conversation less annoying, then fine. I’m Rachel Cross. Pleased to fucking meet you.”

  If Jarek hadn’t happened to be looking straight at Alton, he probably would have missed the way the raknoth’s brows twitched when Rachel said her name. Somehow, for some reason, that name meant something to Alton the raknoth.

  Now what the hell was Jarek supposed to make of that? Alton’s eyes shifted to meet his, cool and controlled once more. Next to him, Haldin’s expression had gone somber. Did Rachel’s name mean something to him as well?

  “So there,” Rachel said. “We’re all great pals. Now why don’t you tell us what’s so complicated about wanting these assholes”—she pointed at Alton—“off our planet?”

  Alton chuckled. “Oh, believe you me, we would love to leave this planet behind in a heartbeat if we could. But we can’t. Your own people saw to that.”

  “I’m guessing there’s an explanation in there somewhere?” Jarek asked.

  “Long story short,” Haldin said, “some of the people of Earth already tried to wipe the raknoth off this planet. They almost succeeded, even. But their actions had other consequences, ones I doubt they’d expected. What started as a mission to destroy the raknoth ended up being the accident that effectively bound our species’ fates together.”

  Jarek traded a confused look with Rachel. “Say we don’t follow exactly what you’re talking about …”

  “The blood,” Haldin said. “You must’ve wondered why raknoth need to feed on human blood to survive.”

  Shit. That was actually a thing?

  “Yeah,” Jarek said. “Say we didn’t really know about that either …”

  Haldin raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

  Jarek had heard the stories, of course. He’d also seen the Red King drink the blood of one of his own men, and then again with Pryce. Hell, he even knew some people had taken to calling them vamps, but he’d kind of figured it had all been a bunch of fear mongering and dramatic effect—or that the raknoth just happened to enjoy blood. There’d been no reason to think the whole requiring human blood to survive thing was anything more than another one of a thousand rumors floating around about the raknoth.

  Before he could say any of that though, Rachel stepped in.

  “It’s not like we’ve had much time to swap diet plans what with them nuking the planet to shit and holing up in their big dark fortresses. How the hell do you know any of this?”

  Haldin looked at Alton. “Well I learned some of it when I broke into one of his clan member’s minds, but Alton’s filled me in on some of the missing details since.”

  Granted, Jarek knew next to nothing about telepathy, but if Haldin had succeeded where Rachel had failed in invading a raknoth’s mind, it seemed like a safe bet he was packing some serious artillery in that pretty little noggin of his. The fact that Rachel’s hand had drifted to the pendant at her breastbone told Jarek she was having similar thoughts.

  What if Haldin and Alton decided to throw a psychic double-whammy at Rachel right now? Would she be strong enough to get her cloak up?

  If it came to that, it might be up to him to remove one of them from the equation before they could overwhelm her.

  He tried to dispel the tension building in his shoulders. He’d deal with it if he had to, but his instincts told him that the two weren’t about to try anything.

  “Let’s say we believe any of this,” he said. “I still don’t see how that lands you working with a raknoth. This all just sounds like more reason to want them gone.”

  Haldin nodded. “I don’t necessarily disagree, but for two things.”

  “Enlighten us,” Rachel said.

  “Well for one, it’s not really their fault.”

  “Bullshit,” Rachel said. “They were the ones who decided to come prey on us in the first place.”

  Alton showed them a bitter smile. “Right, right. Except that we weren’t. We came to Earth because we were made to.”

  “Which brings me to point number two,” Haldin said. “There are worse things than the raknoth out there, and they’re probably gonna come here someday if we don’t stop them.”

  “Things like the rakul?” Jarek asked.

  He might as well have stuck a cattle prod to each of their backs for how they tensed. They traded a shocked look, all hints of amusement and smugness draining away to be replaced by … was it horror?

  Alton turned to Jarek, red embers awakening in his eyes. “Where did you hear that name?”

  “One of your friends told us,” Jarek said. “Why? What does it mean? Who are these harvester guys?”

  “Impossible.” Alton rose to his feet and took a step forward. “You don’t even know of the blood bond yet one of my kin told you of the harvesters?”

  “Back off, asshole,” Rachel said, brandishing her staff.

  “Alton,” Haldin said, his tone calming.

  “Something’s happened,” Alton growled at him before snapping his red-eyed gaze to Rachel. “Have you felt anything? A psychic disturbance?”

  Rachel traded a glance with Jarek, and he was pretty sure she was thinking the same thing he was: a disturbance like that nest thing going off?

  So much for this all being a made-up scare tactic of the Red King. Whatever the rakul were, they had Haldin and Alton shaking in their boots too.

  The buzz of an incoming comm message yanked him back to the present. A second later, Rachel’s buzzed as well.

  That wasn’t good.

  The list of people who might be contacting him was short enough. The list of people who’d be messaging both of them at the same time was considerably shorter.

  Something was going on.

  “Message from Lea, sir,” Al said quietly in his ear. “Oh dear. One word: help.”

  “Uh, can you guys just …” He held up a finger to Haldin and Alton. The look on Rachel’s face told him she’d received the same message. “One se
cond.”

  He slid his faceplate closed. “Message her back,” he said quietly. “Find out what’s—”

  His wrist buzzed again, and this time the message appeared at the bottom of his in-helmet display: Mosen here. Help.

  “Son of a bitch.”

  “Trouble?” Haldin asked.

  Beside him, Alton straightened and began sniffing the air.

  That didn’t bode well. None of this did.

  The Overlord’s most dangerous errand boy just happened to be showing up right when they were sitting here talking to a mysteriously well-informed stranger and his raknoth pal?

  Jarek looked at Rachel and wished he could beam his thoughts straight into her head. “We have to check on something. Don’t suppose you two would be willing to stay put for a few minutes?”

  Alton cocked his head and sniffed again. “I think we’d better not. I smell raknoth.”

  Rachel tilted her staff toward Haldin and Alton. “Friends of yours?”

  “I doubt I have any friends left on this planet,” Alton said, “but they are likely here because of us.” He looked at Haldin. “We should leave.”

  Haldin stood without argument.

  “Like hell,” Rachel said, taking a step forward.

  Jarek grabbed her arm and shook his head.

  If Mosen was in town, they needed to move now if they didn’t want to lose Lea and Alaric. Of course, he didn’t really want to say that in front of Haldin and Alton. Storming off into a fight with two powerful unknowns at their back was bad enough without calling attention to the fact.

  “This isn’t over,” he said. “But our friends might need us right now.”

  “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing you again,” Haldin said.

  Then he and Alton turned and set off into the woods at a brusque pace.

  “Dammit,” Rachel hissed beside him. “Let’s go.”

  Jarek watched after Haldin and Alton for a few more seconds, wondering if he and Rachel had been playing into some manipulative trap this entire time.

  Either way, they’d made their choice. He nodded and turned to follow Rachel out of the amphitheater clearing back the way they’d come.

  Out of all the questions whirling through Jarek’s mind, one thing seemed sure enough: whichever way things panned out, their day probably wasn’t about to get any less boring.

 

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