Elements of the Enemy (Alliance Society Book 1)

by C. J. Felver

  Yeah, right. As if he ever felt grief over killing me.

  “What are you talking about, Harlow?” Wren growls out.

  “When I wasn’t successful in killing you before, I had planned for you to be given the serum. That seemed to be a worse fate for you. But that foolish woman didn’t follow my explicit instructions and sent you in the wrong direction.”

  “How did she send me in the wrong direction?”

  “Have you been paying no attention at all? It truly is simpler than you’re making it out to be, Miss Daniels. She thought you were worthy of keeping your powers. You are a strong elemental, and therefore valuable. How could you have forgotten our last conversation so quickly?”

  Our conversation from that night at HSI Labs comes flooding back to me. “Your abilities are too useful to destroy entirely …” He made the serum to wipe out elementals he deemed “unworthy,” and this … this must be the other side of the coin. Those he did deem “worthy” are on the path to becoming his puppets, to do his bidding and fight his fights, whatever they may be. The pieces of the puzzle click into place.

  “You’re amassing your own elemental army, but for what?”

  “Well, of course I have no use for an army such as this. There are, however, plenty of interested parties, all ready to bid on my discovery.”

  Ah, that explains Officer Rowe’s involvement. No doubt he is—or represents, anyway—an interested party. But … who is the other business partner?

  Aulder wrenches himself free of my grip. I was distracted by his confessions and didn’t notice my hold loosening. His hand comes around, swinging toward my head. I duck before his blow makes contact, but the follow through ends up smacking Wren in the side of the face. He stumbles backward, releasing Aulder’s other arm.

  This time, when Aulder lunges for my throat, I’m ready for him.

  I side step and he stumbles forward. He turns toward me again and I call to the water, dredging up a whip. I lash it out, connecting with his foot and swirling around. Giving a yank, he pitches forward, landing on the floor in a heap.

  I stride over to where he’s sprawled on the floor and grab him by the collar. My fist slams into his face with a satisfying crunch. Aulder’s head lolls backward, and he lets out yet another sinister chuckle. I punch him again, effectively shutting him up.

  Only for a moment, though, because he laughs again, the sound prickling my flesh. Then he spits in my face.

  Oh. Hell. No.

  It isn’t just spit either. This classy fucker spit his blood all over me. I drag him toward me, bringing him close enough that our noses are practically touching.

  “I’m going to end you,” I grind out through gritted teeth. “Everything you did to my dad, everything you did to Lyza and Joe, everything you did to me … it ends here. Right now. You’ll pay the price for your actions.”

  His eyes grow round as twin turrets of water twist and spin wildly behind me, pushing closer to him. Panic comes off of him in waves as he kicks his legs, trying to move away.

  “You’re going to kill me? Just like they did to my wife?”

  This pulls me up short. Shock rattles through me. He had a wife? And she was killed?

  “Yes, my selfless, naïve, overly-trusting wife. Killed—murdered for trying to help your kind,” he says, answering the questions I must have said out loud by mistake.

  Aulder is trembling now, either with anger or fear—I can’t tell.

  “What do you mean she was killed for helping my kind?”

  “She used to run a program. He couldn’t …” He trails off, choking on the agony of his memory. “He couldn’t control his powers. She was trying to help him and he killed her for it.” Pausing, he squeezes his eyes shut. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s trying not to cry. “When I found them, he was standing over her lifeless body, covered in her blood. He had bludgeoned her to death.” His words come out as a choked sob, and I’d feel sorry for him if I didn’t already hate him.

  Turns out, Aulder is only a man in pain because his wife died at the hands of an unstable murderer. But, instead of using that to try to make the world a better place and—I don’t know—using his knowledge to continue his wife’s program, he decided the entire race should suffer for one person’s atrocities.

  What does that make me?

  Here I am, for the last week, working through this plan of taking down Aulder Harlow because he’s ruined the lives of many elementals—my dad and best friend, included.

  Is there really a difference between us?

  Yes, there is.

  The difference is that I was only going to take out the one person responsible for the devastation surrounding me, my family, and my race. He was going to take his grief out on an entire race.

  My fists clench around his collar, tightening with the anticipation of what I need to do.

  A hand lands on my shoulder. The touch is familiar, so I don’t attack.

  “Cleo, you’re better than this,” Wren says, his voice groggy.

  “If I don’t kill him, what else is he capable of? What other options do we have?”

  “Prison,” he suggests. “We have more than enough evidence to use against him.”

  I loosen my hold on Aulder’s collar slightly, not sure what to do. “How can we send him to prison? He has too many people in his pocket. People like Rowe. He wouldn’t stay there for long. And once he’s out, then what?”

  My mind is reeling. I’ve never been so torn in my life. All this time, I’ve wanted nothing more than to end the life of this vile man, but now that I’m here, able to deliver the final strike, I … I’m not sure that I can.

  Images well up in my mind’s eye. Images of my father’s face each time he fought the darkness that being a prisoner in AGAS left within him. Of the many elementals sitting in the same rooms I rescued Lyza and my dad from. Of the dozens of missing persons cases whose faces were plastered everywhere, ones I knew were taken by AGAS members. Images of Joe’s face as he fought against the hold Aulder has over his free will.

  I know what I need to do. And now I have the strength to do it.

  Almost

  “Cleo, I know you think killing him is the right thing to do here, but will you be able to live with yourself once it’s done?”

  Wait a minute.

  What Wren’s saying—it makes sense. Will I really be able to live with myself if I kill Aulder Harlow? It’s honestly something I hadn’t put a thought to. So many have suffered at the hands of this man. If it weren’t for our interference today, how many more lives would have turned to misery because of his actions? Actions he claims are caused and justified by the grief of losing his wife to the whims of one elemental.

  How different would my life have ended up if my dad hadn’t disappeared? If I hadn’t had to worry about watching over my shoulder for AGAS?

  I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn’t kill him. If I had the chance and let it slip through my fingers. If it were Aulder, he wouldn’t have hesitated to end my life. I still have the bruises to prove his attempts.

  Having someone worry about these things for me is touching, and I know I’ll bring him disappointment for carrying through with this. The sting of that knowledge hurts more than I’d care to admit, but this isn’t just for me. It’s for my dad, my friends, and my people. This is bigger than just my feelings on the matter.

  “Wren … it’s really sweet that you’re looking out for my wellbeing and all, but don’t. I know what needs to be done. Don’t try to change my mind.”

  Taking advantage of the distraction, Aulder breaks my hold on his collar, rolling away.

  He scrambles across the floor. Drawing water, I send a stream toward him, but before it connects, he slips around the other side of the counter. Closer to the door.

  My whole body turns to ice. He’s going to get away! He’s going to get away and I can barely see anything in this damn room!

  We have to stop him!

  I shove myself to
my feet and lunge for the doorway. The panic doesn’t last long as I realize my water wall is still in place.

  Pain explodes in my cheek. Ringing fills my ears. Everything has a shiny quality to it as water pools in my eyes. White lights blink across the room as it tips on its axis and the floor comes up to meet me.

  I lie there for a moment, trying to make sense of what just happened. With a groan—because holy shit, this is painful—I pull my limbs underneath me and push myself up to all fours. Shaking my head to try and rid the spinning sensation, I blink a few times to clear my eyes. My vision is a little clearer, but the room is still tilting at strange angles. I crawl over to the wall and plop down, leaning my back against it for support.

  What did I get hit with? Reaching up to touch my face, it doesn’t take much effort to find the gash that runs across my cheekbone, the skin split open from the force of whatever hit my face. Blood stains the tips of my fingers as I pull them away from my wound.

  Trying to haul myself upward, my head throbs. The whole room is still spinning. Gritting my teeth and taking a step, I pitch forward but manage to catch myself on the edge of the counter. My stomach lurches, but it’s empty, so I only dry heave.

  Getting myself back under control, a barrage of grunts greets me. I look up to see Wren knocking Aulder into the counter. There, Aulder grabs a glass beaker and throws it at him. Wren throws up his arms to block, but it shatters against him. Rivulets of blood flow from fresh cuts, but it doesn’t stop him. He steps forward, grabbing a fist full of Aulder’s shirt and punching him.

  I stagger my way over slowly, still feeling waves of dizziness. Glass shatters again, this time Wren cries out and stumbles backward, gripping his face.

  Before I can react, the metallic click of Aulder cocking Wren’s gun reverberates through every fiber of my being. He points it straight at his former lieutenant's face.

  Instinct takes over, forcing my limbs to snap into action. With a flick of a thought, water speeds toward Aulder’s hands, encasing the gun as a shot fires. It narrowly misses Wren, the bullet embedding itself into the drywall behind him. There’s no time to breathe a sigh of relief, my enemy is still armed.

  I keep the stream of water flowing swiftly around the gun. There’s no way we can risk Aulder breaking it free. He wouldn’t hesitate to end either of our lives.

  Pulling more water to him, I guide it around his throat, commanding it to swirl and constrict. Fear pulses through his eyes, his gaze darting from me to the gun in his hands and back. For good measure, I use the water to press the button releasing the magazine. A few bullets spring out as it hits the floor, but the gun stays firmly in his grasp.

  I tighten my hold on the water at his throat and his head jerks backward. Three steps brings me close enough to grip his throat with my own hands. I give a tight squeeze.

  “Fitting, isn’t it?” I drawl. “That I’m going to kill you the same way you tried to kill me?”

  Aulder’s nostrils flare, his eyebrows slanting together in his fury. “I will not die at the hands of some girl.” His words are clipped, strained against my hold.

  He struggles, but I don’t budge. The color slowly fades from his face, his muscles giving out one by one. That is, until he pulls the gun up with a shaky hand and fires a shot directly at me.

  I tug at the water once more, pulling down his hand with the now-empty gun, pinning it at his side. More water trickles upward, flowing into his mouth and nostrils. The life drains from his eyes just before he slumps to the floor, his body still.

  Wren is by my side in a moment, forcing me to move so he can get a good look at me. I look down to figure out what he’s fussing over and see blood trickling freely down the length of my arm, dripping from my elbow onto the floor. Somehow, I hadn’t felt the wound yet. Probably thanks to the rush of adrenaline. Looking at it now, though, brings all the pain surging to the area. It feels as if someone is holding a white hot barb to my arm. My skin is abraded, blood dripping down my elbow and to the floor. A whimper escapes my lips as he gently touches the skin around the angry mark.

  “It needs to be cleaned or it’ll get infected. We need to get you to a hospital, Cleo,” he says, gripping my good arm and pulling me along beside him, exiting the room.

  “Wait,” I say, dragging my heels, “I can clean it myself.” He gives me an exasperated look. “I can clean it well enough to hold me over until you can get me to a hospital.”

  With a sigh, he releases me. “Okay, but be quick.” I nod.

  Good grief, being shot hurts like a freaking bitch.

  Expanding my senses, I pull up a small sphere of water. Sifting through it, I release the impurities lingering there before holding it to my wound. I hiss at the contact. The cool water only brings a touch of relief to the pain. It still hurts worse than anything I’ve ever felt. I clench my teeth so hard they feel like they’re on the verge of cracking.

  While I’m at it, I repeat the process for my cheek. This time, the pain subsides considerably.

  “Alright, time to get you out of here. You’re going to need stitches.”

  “Wait,” I say again, putting the brakes on for the second time, “what about Joe? And everyone else stuck here? We can’t leave them here.”

  They’ve clearly suffered so much already, if we leave them here, what will happen to them? Will they die or will the other business partner come back eventually?

  If nothing else, I have to get Joe out. What kind of friend would I be if I don’t even try?

  Wren meets my stare. There’s a fire in his eyes unlike anything I’ve seen. It cuts right through to my soul, chopping my heart into tiny pieces and stitching them back together again. He lets out a long sigh. “Okay, but we need to hurry. I’m worried about you.”

  Having someone in your corner, it truly is an amazing feeling.

  I let the water wall drop. The hallway is now housing a good-sized flood. We dash through it without problem—not counting the fact that Wren has to keep hold of my good arm the entire way because I keep tripping. Above us, the occasional light flickers, but now there is a soft glow coming from emergency exit signs. Aulder must have had them turned off to give his freaky breadcrumb light trail a higher creep factor.

  “Wren, what are we going to do about this place? I mean, what if someone finds it? What about Aulder’s body?”

  I’ve never killed anyone before, but don’t people usually dispose of the body?

  “Trust me, you won’t have to worry about that happening. Given Officer Rowe’s involvement, if the police force does find it, I’m sure he and anyone else in Harlow’s pocket will be doing everything in his power to keep all of this under wraps. He wouldn’t want his name anywhere near something like this.”

  Huh, I guess that makes sense. But … “Are you sure?”

  “Positive,” he says. “If this place has been a well-kept secret all this time, something tells me that won’t change for a while, even without Harlow’s presence.”

  The other business partner. Of course this person would want to continue working on this project while still keeping it secret. If they were to go to someone, they’d have to explain their involvement and that wouldn’t be good for them. Especially since they’d be at the top of the suspect list. That, and they wouldn’t be able to continue with this project. No one will be coming to find this place unless we specifically blow the cover on it.

  In no time at all, we reach where we left Joe and the other guy.

  They’re no longer lying unconscious—thank goodness. Both of them are wandering down the hallway, tugging on a door that refuses to open. Seeing us approach, Joe dashes over, splashing water with each step.

  “Cleo! Holy shit, you’re alright,” Joe cringes, close enough now to see how not fine I am. “Well, I mean, you’re alive. Is the doctor—did you …?”

  “Yeah … you don’t have to worry about him anymore.” Joe’s shoulders sag as every muscle in his body relaxes. It must be relieving to know that the man who held yo
u prisoner and took your free will is dead. It is for me, but I didn’t have it nearly as bad as Joe.

  The earth elemental pops up behind Joe, startling me. He’s a big dude. His shoulders are broad, and thick bands of muscles wrap around each of his arms. No wonder Wren had so much trouble with this guy earlier. He’s absolutely ripped.

  “I’m sorry about having to fight you earlier, man. If I had any choice in the matter, it wouldn’t have happened,” he says to Wren. To be honest, the guy looks like hell. Wren put up quite a fight against him and it shows. He already has a nice shiner and hints of bruises forming on his bare torso.

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault,” Wren reassures him. “I’m sorry, too.”

  I cut right to the chase with Joe, ready to fill him in on my plan. “So, we gotta get everybody out of here. Do you know how many there are?”

  “Uh, I don’t know exactly, but there are a lot of us. How do you plan to get us all out and where do you plan on taking us?”

  Right. About that … “Well, I hadn’t thought about that part yet. I’m making this up as I go, okay?”

  Lapping water calls my attention down the hallway. Someone is coming. All four of us stand totally immobile. The sound gets closer and closer. We all slide into our defensive positions at the same time. Is it Rowe? Did he figure out some way to get himself out of the handcuffs? Is it the other mystery business partner?

  The sound of their approach is getting closer.

  “Zander?” I say in disbelief. He couldn’t find this place at all earlier. Rowe had to tell us how to get here.

  “How did you find us?” Wren says, echoing my thoughts.

  A hand wraps around my arm, thankfully not the injured one. “Cleo, get back,” Joe says in a hushed tone. He’s trying to pull me along with him as he backs away. The other guy has himself pressed against the far wall.

  What in the world?

  “You took my car, remember? I tracked it here to you,” Zander says. Something isn’t right. His tone suggests …