© 2015 by Bonnie S. Calhoun
Published by Revell
a division of Baker Publishing Group
P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287
www.revellbooks.com
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
ISBN 978-1-4934-0047-8
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
1
2
3
4
Excerpt from the Book Lightning
About the Author
Books by Bonnie S. Calhoun
Back Ads
Back Cover
1
Selah Rishon Chavez stood between her newly found father and her new . . . hmm, she wasn’t sure what to call him. She wanted to call Bodhi Locke her boyfriend, but Glade Rishon didn’t seem ready to give the young man favorable approval with his daughter.
“Can you two agree on any one thing about our traveling direction?” Selah said. “I’d rather get as far away from here as fast as we can.” It had been two days since the operation at the Mountain. Everyone else had headed home, so after Cleon and Treva finished gathering transportation and supplies, their group should too.
“No, we can’t. I’ve been gathering information on what transpired since my captivity, and we need more security before we go anywhere. That’s what I’m trying to get before I decide on a route out of here,” Glade said. He turned back to the maps where Bodhi stood.
Two of the Landers they’d freed from the Mountain lived in communities nearby. They’d suggested Baltimore as an immediate destination for Glade and his group. A large Lander presence in the city would be sympathetic to getting Glade back to TicCity. It was quite a shock for Selah to get here and learn of the different Protocols among Landers. When she asked, Glade said the three Protocols could be compared to the hereditary caste system for certain society groups. Apparently from their greeting here, Glade was among the most venerated group.
Selah was still waiting for an explanation as to why Glade was 150 years old but only looked like he was in his forties. A very fit and trim forty, at that. She’d noticed several women giving him glances that he’d wholly ignored.
“We wouldn’t need extra security and could cut a full day from our trip if we travel a straight line across these Delaware waters, through this place called Dove, and across the next Delaware waters,” Bodhi said. “TicCity is on the other side.” His biceps rippled as he pointed at the maps laid out on a table in the courtyard of the Town Central building.
No shade and the oppressive late-day heat had caused Bodhi to strip off his sweat-soaked tunic and tie it around his waist. It would get colder when the sun set, so he’d cover up once again and Selah could concentrate her thoughts elsewhere.
“The name is Dover. It was called Dover, not Dove.” Glade ran a hand through his thick black hair to release it from the moisture on his neck.
Selah winced at her father’s abruptness. She figured neither man was faring well with both heat and temperament in the mix, but she hadn’t paid much attention to the argument. Bodhi’s deeply bronzed torso glistening with beads of sweat, the shaggy mop of blond hair, and those sea-blue eyes had taken command of her attention. Maybe it was because Bodhi was her first kiss, or maybe because he transitioned her to a novarium, or just maybe because she was eighteen and he was cute. Whatever the reason, it made the pain of listening to their argument bearable.
Bodhi turned to glare at her father. “How do you know that? This map says Dove.”
“We are not taking a shortcut across those badlands.” A shade of crimson added to Glade’s rustic unshaven looks. Selah thought his anger seemed out of proportion to Bodhi’s point. It was only a word—Dover.
“You haven’t been in that direction for eighteen years. It might have changed, or we could travel by caravan—”
“Okay, you two!” Selah raised a hand. “This is getting us nowhere!”
“Maybe I can help with this dilemma.” A strange man stood even in height with Bodhi, but in everything else they were opposites. As fair as Bodhi’s hair was, the man’s looked black except for where the sun hit it, creating auburn highlights. He displayed a crooked, easy smile set in a solid jaw, where Bodhi looked more brooding and serious.
“Who would you be?” Bodhi moved to Selah’s side.
Glade stared at Bodhi and frowned. “I’ve hired him as our navigator.”
“You hired a stranger for traveling and security?” Bodhi glared.
“He comes highly recommended. I don’t need to personally know everyone I hire,” Glade said.
“My name is Jaenen Malik,” the man said. “I’m an expert navigator for several of the Lander council here, and I can assemble a caravan for whatever direction you choose.”
“Excuse me. What is a navigator?” Selah asked. She felt Bodhi’s body heat as he slid into a protective position closer to her.
“A freelance investigator,” Jaenen said.
Selah squared her shoulders and raised her chin. “Freelance? Where I come from that’s the polite term for a mercenary.” She looked between the man and Glade. What was Glade up to with this guy?
Jaenen flashed a smile. “Most of us spend so much time traveling these lands that we also hire ourselves out as travel guides . . . and yes, as private security.” He put a hand on Glade’s shoulder. The two of them turned away, deep in conversation.
Selah’s mouth slowly dropped open as she watched Glade stroll toward the Town Center building with a total stranger. Her stepfather, Varro Chavez, would never have taken to a stranger so quickly. Odd. She wondered what the man had said to Glade to make him so trusting and agreeable.
She turned and touched Bodhi’s hand as she sank to the bench. A navigator completed Glade’s plan. They were going the long way around. “Well, look at it this way. The longer it takes us to get to TicCity, the more we’ll get to see each other. I’m getting the impression that once we get there, he’s going to give me a position ‘befitting a novarium,’ as he says, and I’ll rarely get to see you.”
The look of bewilderment on Bodhi’s face was almost funny. It mirrored her own feelings.
“What does ‘befitting a novarium’ even mean?”
Selah grimaced. “I’m beginning to think it’s a disguised effort for ‘keeping Bodhi away from my daughter.’ I don’t know. He talks like that a lot. This is all new to me too. I want to spend time with you, and he’s pecking at my every effort.” Selah thought it deserved mentioning that her father was doing everything he could to keep her away from Bodhi. And her stepfather had almost succeeded in selling her into marriage with a man who was a total stranger to her after she came of age. Ironic—two fathers, total opposites in everything so far.
Bodhi slipped his hand under hers and raised it slowly. His warm breath caressed her fingers as his soft lips brushed the back of her hand. Selah shivered even in the baking temperatures of the late afternoon.
“My feelings for you are new to me as well.” Bodhi’s eyes searched hers. “I feel different, as though my essence is draining—” He shook his head. “That sounds so stupid.”
“S
hh.” Selah put her fingers to his lips and smiled softly. She watched the tension leave his shoulders. She believed his feelings. After getting to know him these last couple weeks, she felt drawn by his genuine affection. “Let’s take a walk down by the lake where there’s lots of shade and no fathers.”
Bodhi laughed, playfully dragging her from the bench. They turned as Glade and Jaenen strolled toward them.
Glade glanced at Bodhi holding Selah’s hand. He frowned. Bodhi let go and lowered his arm but stayed at Selah’s side.
“Selah, I’ve been talking to Jaenen about the situation here in Baltimore,” Glade said. “I’m thinking we need to institute precautions for your safety now.” He moved to put his hand on her shoulder.
Selah felt constricted by his smothering but, at the same time, protected. A strange plus and minus for the same emotion. She figured her father was overcompensating for eighteen missed years.
“What type of measures does this man, who doesn’t know me, think I need?” Selah straightened to face Jaenen.
“And why wasn’t I included in that discussion?” Bodhi angled in between them.
Jaenen stepped forward and smiled casually at Selah. “I’m sorry if I’ve taken liberties at suggesting precautions. But you are a novarium, and regardless of whether the Mountain comes after you, there are still others who would seek to gain from controlling the unique mark you possess.”
Selah could see his intention was to speak to her and ignore Bodhi. “Bodhi asked a question. If this was so important, why weren’t we included in the discussion?” Selah self-consciously fingered the mark hovering below her collarbone. Her narrow-strapped cotton shirt offered welcome relief from the heat, and she’d been told it was safe here for Landers, so she assumed that meant it was safe for her too.
Jaenen looked to Glade, then diverted his eyes. Glade raised a hand. “This is probably my fault. I chose to keep it between the two of us so as not to embarrass Bodhi.”
Selah felt Bodhi press in close to her again. Her anger mounted. She shoved her fists to her hips as she glared at Jaenen and Glade. “Would either of you care to explain?”
“You understand that by his touching you the first time he saw you on the beach, Bodhi transitioned you,” Jaenen said flatly. If Selah didn’t know better, she’d think he was purposely acting rude.
“Yes, and that means he started some kind of chemical change in me that also created this mark below my collarbone,” Selah said, confident in that much of her knowledge.
Glade shrugged. “That means he’s going to experience systematic losses—”
“Excuse me! You’re talking about me like I’m not standing here.” Bodhi set his jaw and ground his teeth as though he were trying to convince himself not to speak further. He steeled a glance toward Jaenen. “I haven’t lost speed, stamina, or anything else. You could try me if you’d like a demonstration.”
Jaenen moved forward. Selah didn’t know if it was meant to be aggressive, but she stepped in between them. “I think we’ve had enough demonstrations in the heat of the day. Please explain to me why anyone feels I need extra protection.”
“Your mark is the catalyst for the last level in a 150-year-old mystery,” Jaenen said. “You will create the next generation.”
Selah shrugged and leaned against the table holding the maps. “That’s probably a bit of an exaggeration. I’m sure there’ve been a lot of other novarium in the past 150 years.” Her original chance encounter with Bodhi had been a fluke, so there had to have been many others that happened just as oddly or even on purpose.
Glade hung his head, ran a hand through his hair, and looked up. “Before I went into captivity, there had been only eleven who survived, and every one of them . . . disappeared.”
“Maybe they found that last level you’re talking about,” Bodhi said. “Isn’t that a possibility?”
“No, they haven’t.” Glade shook his head. “I don’t know many of the answers, but of one thing I am certain—we will all be changed. And when it happens, all Landers will know.”
All three men turned to stare at Selah.
Her insides clenched. This new shock registered in her chest. She took a deep breath and pushed off from the table. “So you’re telling me I have to worry about the Mountain chasing me everywhere I go, forever?”
“No, not at all,” Jaenen said. “Mountain authority ended this side of the mountain range. Their territory is only to the south.”
Bodhi was watching Glade. Selah noticed and touched his arm. “What’s the matter?”
He nodded toward Glade and squinted. “He’s not telling us something. I can feel it.”
Glade snapped his head in Bodhi’s direction. “Don’t you ever try to mind-jump with me! But then again, I won’t have to worry about you trying that for too much longer. That should be the first ability to go.”
Bodhi looked stung, but he didn’t relent. “Don’t turn the subject to me. I’m talking about you. You’re hiding something from Selah.”
Selah looked from Bodhi to Glade. The tension between them was stretched as tight as the barbed wire holding the cow fences back home. “Tell me what you’re hiding, Glade.” She just couldn’t bring herself to call him Father all the time yet—it was still too new. After all, her stepfather Varro had raised her for eighteen years.
“Landers.” Glade’s shoulders slumped, and his countenance dropped.
Selah furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”
Glade sighed and closed his eyes. “Landers. You—we—have to worry about other Landers hunting you.”
“Why would they hunt me if we are the same kind of people?” Selah’s Borough had always hunted Landers in a mistaken premise that they were helping them, but Landers hunting themselves seemed even more barbaric now that she knew the truth.
“Because you are the next variation, and since none of us know what that entails, they all want to control it,” Glade said.
2
Numb. Frozen. Selah thawed from her reaction. She’d be hunted forever.
She watched Glade walk away with Bodhi. Confusion pulled her in multiple directions as she tried to understand why she should trust Jaenen, a man they’d known only a couple hours, and mistrust Bodhi, the man who’d been with her for a couple weeks and already saved her life. “Why don’t you and Glade want Bodhi to hear our conversation?” She turned back to Jaenen with a scowl.
Jaenen ignored her look and pulled a silver flask from a padded case on his hip. He took a swig and held it out. “Water. It’s fresh and cold.”
Selah accepted the flask, smelled it, and drank deeply of the refreshing water. Her focus returned to Jaenen. “I don’t hear you answering my question.”
“Since Glade’s imprisonment, the First Protocol has splintered into several radical factions and their blood hunters—”
“Bodhi isn’t even a First Protocol. He came by sea, which makes him a Second Protocol. He’s been with me just about every second other than when my brothers had him prisoner. So where do you get off thinking about him as one of these radicals?” Selah primed for a confrontation after taking another glorious drink of the cold water.
“These radicals have blood hunters scouting and kidnapping any novarium or potential novarium they find. Now, to answer your question—some of the factions still have mind-jump capabilities, and Bodhi could have been solicited that way without your knowledge,” Jaenen said.
Pinpricks of fear like spiders skittered down Selah’s spine. She shivered—had to be the cold water. She was not even safe with her own kind. Glancing around, she committed buildings and scenery to memory. His revelation commanded a whole new respect for shadows. She gulped.
“You’re not going to make me mistrust Bodhi. He’s . . . well, he’s . . .” Her cheeks felt warm. She bit down on her lower lip.
Jaenen hitched a crooked smile, then shrugged. “Or it could be that your father purely doesn’t want him around you.”
Selah’s anger deflated. Creatin
g mistrust of Bodhi could be Glade’s idea and not this stranger’s. “Who brought the subject of Bodhi up? You or Glade?”
“I don’t remember, but I think at this particular moment it would be a good idea for you to come closer to me,” Jaenen said as he stared past Selah.
She snapped around to see three men walking across the courtyard in their direction. “Who are they?”
“Over here, please!” Jaenen grabbed her by the arm and yanked her to his side.
Selah tried unsuccessfully to squirm from his viselike grip.
The three men reached them. “So, Malik, I see you’ve claimed another one,” the shortest man said as he eyed Selah. She hated men who treated women like cattle, and she would’ve loved nothing more than to voice her opinion of him, but the firmness of the grip on her arm indicated otherwise.
“That’s right, and if any one of you forgets it, I’ll hand you your liver for lunch. Am I understood?” Jaenen held tight to Selah. He’d planted both feet in a stance that dared them to come closer.
The man with a square jaw and large mustache glared at Jaenen, then sifted air between two broken front teeth. “That’s all right, there’s more where this one came from.” He motioned the men to follow, and they moved off.
Selah tried to pry herself loose from Jaenen’s grip. “If you ever put your hands on me that way—”
“Sorry,” Jaenen said. He dropped his hand. “Physical possession of a woman in these parts is nine-tenths of the law, and that just kept you from being kidnapped.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. What kind of uncivilized, backwoods—”
“That’s the law in this part of the country. If a woman isn’t married, she’s fair game. For the radical faction blood hunters, seeing that mark of yours out in plain sight is a bio-coin invitation that’s too hard to resist.” Jaenen moved to sit at the table.
Selah’s right hand came up to cover her left collarbone. “I didn’t realize. I’ll change into a tunic. It’s just so hot . . .” She felt her face flush as she realized how naive she was, but Glade hadn’t recommended covering her mark either. Apparently, even he hadn’t realized the depth of the danger.
Aftershock: A Stone Braide Chronicles Story Page 1