Kat Dubois Chronicles

by Lindsey Sparks

  I snorted, playing at nonchalant when I was anything but—my heart was pounding. “Like that’s news to anyone.” I gave the dome a sideways nod. “C’mon, let’s get this over with before Heru gets a lock on our location.”

  Tentatively, Mari raised her hands and replaced her palms against smooth, obsidian surface. The skin around her eyes was tight with tension. She looked at me, uncertainty written all over her face. “How exactly is you touching the barrier supposed to make this work any better?” she asked.

  “Where’s the trust, Mars? Don’t I always have a plan?”

  She laughed, a shallow, dry sound, and shook her head. “No, actually, you never have a plan.” And then she closed her eyes, concentration warping her delicate features.

  I did the same. Focusing on the At interwoven with its counterpart throughout the barrier. I could sense it, bound to the anti-At like one half of a zipper. I could sense it, but no matter how hard I concentrated, I couldn’t isolate it from the anti-At and will it away.

  “Heru’s found you,” Dom said, his words skittering across the edges of my awareness. “They’re on their way.”

  It was time for another approach. A more personal approach.

  In my mind’s eye, I pictured Nik, the one who’d created the barrier, all smug satisfaction, his heavenly features twisted by a gloating smirk. I imagined that he was made of solid At—that all of the At interwoven in the barrier had been reworked into a likeness of him—and that my hands were wrapped around his neck. I was so furious at him about messing with my mind that I wanted to tear his stupid imaginary head right off. Focusing that rage, I squeezed as hard as I could, willing my fingers to sink into the stonelike material.

  “Come on,” I said, voice a mere groan. “Come on . . .”

  Inside my head, my imagined fingers sank deeper into the At that made up Nik’s neck. I would destroy him for what he’d done to me. For what he was doing to me. I would tear him limb from limb, molecule from molecule.

  “An engine approaches,” Mei whispered. I felt her hand grip my upper arm. She was getting ready to teleport us again, probably to another portion of the barrier. How long would it take me to recover from the jump this time?

  I redoubled my efforts on the barrier—on my mental image of Nik. Sweat trickled down the back of my neck. My palm felt slippery against the impermeable barrier.

  Mari grunted a scream, and then I was falling forward.

  We’d done it. We’d broken through the dome. We were free.

  I opened my eyes and, for only a fraction of a second, I saw the trees that had been on the other side of the dome. Without warning, the world erupted in a shimmering iridescence and I was drowning in the temporary horror of inexistence as Mei teleported us away.

  Chapter Eighteen

  We reappeared in absolute darkness, and for a moment, I was convinced that I had overestimated my immunity to the effects of anti-At and was experiencing firsthand what it was like to witness my life—my very existence—unraveling. Except I wasn’t alone in my worse-than-death fate. Two other heartbeats cut through the deafening darkness. Two other pairs of lungs sucked in rasping breaths in chorus with mine.

  “Where’s the latch,” Mei whispered, voice hushed, but harsh with urgency. “I can’t see a damn thing!”

  Without warning, a blinding light burned through the darkness. “Here,” Mari said, the light bobbing along.

  I blinked several times, hand held up to shield my eyes. It was a phone; Mari was using the screen as a flashlight, illuminating a brick tunnel that ended with a vault door. It took me a second or two to put two and two together and figure out where we were—in the warren of tunnels under Seattle, standing just outside of Mari and Mei’s hidden underground bunker.

  Now that there was light, Mei’s movements transformed from fumbling to purposeful as she moved closer to the vault door. The heavy, mechanized door had once protected a bank vault, back in the 1880s, before Seattle was ravaged by a fire and the city’s officials decided that rebuilding was so last year and built a brand-new, “fireproof” city on top of the old instead.

  While Mei worked on the door’s locks and latches, I moved closer to Mari. “We can’t stay here for long.”

  Her brows bunched together. “I’m sorry?” she said, clearly not understanding.

  “Once Heru gets a lock on our location, it’ll only be a matter of minutes until he and Nik pop in, and I’m guessing that this time it’s going to be for more than a chat.” I had little doubt that the niceties were over, and that Heru would be playing hardball from here on out. When he finally made an appearance, Nik would be with him, and if Nik got close enough to see us—to use any of his myriad of sheut powers on us—we’d be SOL, and so would Charlene. We had to keep moving, period.

  Mari shook her head, her mussed bob swaying. “But he won’t be able to sense us,” she explained. “I lined the walls and ceiling and, well, everything in the bunker with anti-At a while back. It’s how we stayed hidden from you and Heru for more than a week.” She eyed me, shadowed gaze quizzical. “You must’ve wondered . . .”

  “Huh.” I had wondered, but I’d forgotten in the chaotic events of the days since then.

  “I’ll keep an eye on Heru and the others anyway,” Dom said, “just in case.”

  “Thanks,” I whispered. The need for urgency might have lost a reason, but it was still a necessity. Charlene was a ticking time bomb at this point, and we were racing against the clock. At least now Garth was there, and if his mom awoke in a rabid frenzy, he’d be able to take care of her. Though I hoped, desperately, that it wouldn’t come to that. I’d been destroyed when my mother was killed right in front of me; I had no idea what putting down his own mom would do to Garth.

  There was a metallic clang from the vault end of the tunnel, then the screech of rusty metal on metal. Mari and I halted and turned our heads to watch Mei pull the vault door open.

  “We should stay here for fifteen or twenty minutes,” Mari said, “long enough that Heru has time to realize we’ve hidden ourselves from him and gives up on actively searching for us using his gift.”

  I wasn’t fond of the idea of sitting here for so long, but I didn’t have much of a choice. I could probably do this without their help, but my likelihood of succeeding was way higher if I had them with me.

  Mari rubbed her hands together as we made our way to the armored doorway, “So, once the waiting’s over, what’s next?” She gave me a wry look. “Assuming your plan didn’t end with us breaking through that thing . . .” It was a jab, but a lighthearted one.

  Back in the days of our deadly partnership, Mari had always been the planner, while I’d operated best with more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants mentality. We’d compromised, most of the time, mixing planning with improvising in an often heart-stopping, always intoxicating way. We’d been one hell of a team, at least until the work lost its luster and my heart lost its “in it.”

  “I do, in fact, have a plan,” I told her as I passed her on my way into the bunker. “Shocking, I know.”

  Mari held back to pull the heavy door shut, spinning the handle to lock it. “And mildly impressive.” She turned from the vault door and headed toward the sofa tucked away in the “living room” corner of the bunker. She shed her lab coat and draped it over the back of the couch, then toed off her muddy slippers. “Let’s hear it, then.”

  I bit my lip, hesitating. I needed to know one thing before I divulged my mildly kamikaze plot to her and her mom. “First, tell me one thing, Mars—why are you helping me?” I glanced at Mei, who was puttering around in the bunker’s surprisingly well-laid-out kitchen. It was a little 1950s, but still beyond anything I’d have expected to find down here. “Both of you—not that I’m not grateful, but you’re risking everything by helping me. Heru, once he gets his hands on us . . .”

  I looked up at the ceiling and shook my head, momentarily unable to believe that I’d thought crossing Heru and Nik was even a remotely good idea.
Mari’d been right earlier; I’d lost my mind. I was certifiably bonkers.

  A hand on my shoulder drew me back to the here and now. I was a little surprised to find Mei peering at me rather than her daughter.

  “I was in our rooms when my father arrived tonight,” she said, speaking of Nik.

  Every single time I was faced with that reality—that Nik was Mei’s father—it stunned me a little. Nik had lived for thousands and thousands of years, so it shouldn’t have shocked me that he’d procreated at some point. Honestly, the more shocking thing should’ve been that he’d had only one kid—Mei—but he was just so unfatherly that the truth of their relationship never ceased to blow my mind.

  “I overheard him telling Heru what he believed to be the truth,” Mei continued, “about Re and hearing his voice . . . about his warning of what might happen if more human souls were transformed into Nejeret bas.” Her gaze grew distant, and her hand fell away.

  She seemed different since her time spent as a captive in the Ouroboros lab, the same place Dom had been imprisoned and tortured. Mei was a former Senate member, a leader in her own right, but now she was subdued . . . even withdrawn.

  “Re is the reason I never had a chance to truly know my father. He’s the reason my father nearly killed you, his—”

  “Friend,” Mari said, and I looked at her, confused by the interruption. She offered me a miniscule smile and a half-hearted shrug, then took her mom’s place in the kitchen and started filling up a coffeepot with water from the faucet.

  When I returned my attention to Mei, she no longer wore that far-off stare. She cleared her throat, also offering me a smile, though hers was a little shaky. “Re is the reason my father’s mind broke . . . the reason he was absent from my life once again, even though we’d finally found each other.” A hard glint flashed in her eyes. “After everything he’s done to my father—after everything—Re’s no friend of mine.” She breathed in and out harshly. “Whether he’s really back, his whispers poisoning my father’s mind further, or whether this is just an echo of Re’s abuse, I won’t stand for it.” She balled her hand into a fist. “My family is done being manipulated by that thing, and I could care less that he’s one of the creators of our universe.”

  A heavy, somber air filled the silence after Mei finished.

  “Fair enough.” I exchanged a glance with Mari. “What about you?” I asked her.

  She resumed her almost robotic coffee-making. “I dunno. I guess I was bored.” She poured coffee grounds into a filter. “We haven’t made any progress in the search for a cure, and the research environment down in that lab was growing stale.” She shrugged. “It wasn’t really a ‘breakthrough’ environment anymore. We’re too sheltered down there.” She tucked the loaded filter into the coffeemaker. “A cure is our ticket back into Heru’s good graces. Without that, we’re as good as dead.” She flipped the switch on the coffeepot, then met my eyes. “Necessity is the mother of innovation, after all . . . if this little adventure doesn’t force a spark of brilliance, nothing will.”

  I snorted a laugh. “And you call me crazy.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “You know,” Mari said as she emerged from the bedroom area of the bunker, “I’ve been thinking . . .”

  I’d yet to have the grand tour, but I hardly needed it. From my vantage point at the dining table, I had a solid view of the bedroom Mari had retreated into to change into what she called “mission-appropriate attire.” She’d gone in wearing black slacks, a blouse, socks, and a lab coat, and had emerged a few minutes later in an outfit of fitted black leather pants, a black sleeveless blouse cut low enough to show off her not-insubstantial cleavage, and black stiletto booties.

  “Jesus, Mars,” I said, giving her elevator eyes, “we’re going to a house, not a club.”

  She rolled her eyes—how very me of her—and shrugged on a fitted black leather coat. “I figured I’m the muscle for this little excursion,” she said, twirling an anti-At dagger that she pulled out of thin air. “Thought I should look appropriately intimidating.” She made the dagger disappear, freeing up her hands to tie her shoulder-length hair back into a low nubbin of a ponytail.

  She looked intimidating, alright—sexually, not physically.

  “Okay,” I said, drawing out the word. I couldn’t believe her mom didn’t have an opinion, but Mei remained quiet, stirring a pot of marinara sauce at the stove.

  It was always a good idea for a Nejeret to eat a square meal before heading out on a dangerous mission—the surplus in nutrients and calories could stave off any necessary rounds of injury-induced regenerative sleep for an hour or two, and I was already in the red because of my now-healed wrist and hand injuries. The next time I caught some shut-eye, I’d be out until my body decided it was in good enough shape on a cellular level to wake.

  Mari waved my reaction to her outfit away like it was an unwanted, mangy puppy. “Anyway, like I said—I’ve been thinking, and I think the wisest thing would be to do a trial run before we head over to your boyfriend’s place.”

  I clenched my jaw, barely refraining from snapping, “He’s not my boyfriend.” I closed my eyes, centering myself, then opened them and fixed my stare on Mari. “What did you have in mind?” I didn’t hate the idea of a trial run—it would ensure that my impotence of the last attempt wouldn’t be repeated—but every second we spent outside of this bunker and its protective encasement of anti-At was a second closer to the moment Heru zeroed in on our location. Once we were out of here, we really would have to stay mobile. I couldn’t afford to get caught before I’d made it back to Charlene’s bedside.

  “We could head to the Tent District,” I said, thinking aloud. I felt fairly certain that Dorman would be willing to let me attempt any potential life-saving procedure on the infected people in his care.

  Mari shook her head, then pulled out the chair adjacent to mine and sat. “I don’t want to give Heru a reason to think that Dorman and all the Nejerets there are in league with your little underground movement here.”

  My eyebrows rose. I was surprised she cared. Mari tended to be more of an ends-justify-the-means kind of girl. But then I remembered that she and Dorman had a history, that he’d been one of her followers back during the dark days, when Mari and Mei and all of the other Nejerets unlucky enough to have been born with a sheut were hunted by the former totalitarian body of leadership of our people, the Council of Seven. Thank the gods that patriarchal group had gone the way of the dinosaurs. If only the governmental body that replaced it hadn’t proved to be just as corrupt.

  “How’s a quick trip to my old stomping grounds sound?” Mari said.

  I searched her jade eyes, unsure what exactly she was suggesting. And then I got it, and my mouth fell open. “Ouroboros? You can’t be serious . . .”

  She’d worked as the science director for the twisted corporation for nearly a year, but I didn’t see how that could help us, let alone why returning there could ever be seen as a good idea. The Ouroboros board had been in cahoots with the Senate. That corporation provided our enemies their main stronghold within our territory, because while Heru could police any unwelcome Nejerets within his kingdom’s borders, he could hardly enforce anything with the humans.

  Mari tapped her nose, telling me I was right on the money with my guess. “Why yes, my friend, I am serious.” She raised a hand, palm out, and said, “Hear me out.” She curled her fingers into a fist, holding up only her index finger. “First, there’s plenty of potential subjects there.”

  I frowned, knowing she was right. It was all over the local PNS feed—Ouroboros was offering medical aid to any and all people turned away from the hospitals. Probably as a front with plans to allow those in their care to reach the rabid phase without sedation or euthanization, then releasing them back out into the unsuspecting public so the disease would spread even faster. I yearned for the day I could focus on taking them and their parent conglomerate, Initiative Industries, down. Assuming I survived the
shitstorm Heru threw my way after this, I would destroy them.

  But I needed to follow through with my promise to Garth’s family first, then get the Cascade Virus under control and bring the Senate to their knees. It didn’t matter to me which happened first; it was just a comfort to feel my inner resolve. Purpose was a security blanket I hadn’t slept with for a long damn time. It felt good to have it back.

  “Second,” Mari continued, “I know their facilities inside and out.” She raised a third finger. “And last—but not least—even if Heru figures out where we are in the brief time that we’re in Ouroboros facilities, he’ll think twice before coming after us there.”

  I let out a single, voiceless laugh. She was right. It was the perfect place to run a quick trial, to give me a chance to perfect—or at least to hone—my control over At before returning to Port Madison to heal Charlene.

  “We’d need to be quick,” I said, glancing at Mei. She was piling mountains of spaghetti noodles tossed in marinara sauce on three different plates in the kitchen. “There’s no saying how much time Charlene has left.” But at least by making sure I could make the procedure work, I wouldn’t dash her family’s hopes twice in one day.

  “Also . . .” I pulled the orb containing a fragment of Heru’s ba from my coat pocket and held it up in my palm. “I’ve only got the one fragment, and if Samuel or Cassie have contracted the virus . . .” I shook my head, knowing I’d be unable to abandon them to their fate. I didn’t operate that way. “I have no idea how to separate this thing into smaller pieces. Who knows how long it’ll take me to figure that out.”

  “No biggie,” Mari said, standing and retreating to the bedroom once more. When she reemerged, she was carrying a small canvas makeup bag. She set it on the table in front of me and reclaimed her seat. “My gift to you.”

  I snatched the little bag off the table and unzipped the zipper. It was filled with several dozen marble-sized balls of At, each with its own, smoky ba fragment. “You’ve been keeping your own private stash of these things?” I asked, floored.