Requiem

by E L Strife

  Requiem

  Infinite Spark Series, Book 2

  -A Universal War Novel-

  E. L. Strife

  Book 1: Stellar Fusion

  Book 2: Requiem

  Book 3: Shadows of the Son - Summer 2019

  elstrife.com

  Requiem

  Infinite Spark Series (Book 2)

  Copyright © 2018 Elysia Lumen Strife

  All Rights Reserved.

  Editor: Jeni Chappelle

  Cover Design: Amy Harwell

  Some new material is unedited.

  Thank you for purchasing an authorized version of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not scanning, reproducing, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission.

  Requiem is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For the farmers

  And the soldiers

  Thank you.

  Chapters

  —Backdraft—

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  —Deviation—

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  —Awakening—

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  —Sergeant Cutter—

  Chapter 32

  —Flint & Steel—

  Chapter 33

  —Rio—

  Chapter 34

  —Unveiled—

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  —Imara—

  Chapter 49

  —Incipient—

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Sneak Peek at Book 3

  Connect With Elysia

  Pronunciation Key

  UP Code of Appropriate Actions

  Shepherd’s Oath

  Translations

  About the Author

  —Backdraft—

  Chapter 1

  COMMAND HAD LIED. His father wasn’t dead.

  For twenty-three years, Sergeant Bennett had believed them. Minutes ago, he’d seen the man standing on his deck, flames licking off of his glistening armor, his body, and the pair of feathered extensions arching from his back. He wasn’t just a memory. Not this time.

  “Big J.” His father’s voice resonated deep in his bones, a tuning fork rousing the monster he’d always felt struggling within. And now, Bennett’s veins radiated the same light as his father, however diminished. It was hard to compete with the splendor of a conflagrant god.

  But Bennett’s amusement had long faded.

  Command was making a habit of breaking their own rules.

  His father had flown away without as much as a goodbye.

  And that final night that Bennett had cradled his younger brother as their old house crumbled to coals surged back into mind. Little J was Jack. Jack was dead. And his mother. Everything had burned but him. The flames clung to that spot in the earth long after the firefighters had given up as if fueled by a manner physics couldn’t explain. Bennett had watched, alone, from the woods.

  Atana held him close now, a small comfort in the blooming fury. He wished she wouldn’t try so hard, shielding him with her conjured umbrella from the skies that cried for him.

  He needed the release.

  “Our kind don’t have dreams,” she said, entranced by the plumes of honey coruscating in his chest. “We have Ether. It’s real. Your father too. Dreams are for hu—”

  Bennett spun and stormed off, shaking his head. He knew he couldn’t run from the change as he sprinted across his deck, but it was instinct. The storm’s downpour cooled some of the fire within, sending steam puffing off of his shoulders.

  This is all wrong.

  He raked his hair back and felt the irrational heat of his fingertips against his scalp. His feet paused him in the doorway. He stared at his hand, the blood of stars branching out beneath his skin.

  “Jameson.” His name fell with the rain behind him.

  Inside, he paced the hallway between his living room and kitchen, trying to calm himself with deep breaths. Things weren’t adding up. Not his father. Not this place. Not the change.

  Heat from his hands tingled up his arms, into his spine, and back again. It was a relentless cycle originating from nothing he could see to control. Bennett tucked his fists beneath his elbows and sat on his sofa arm in a huff.

  “This is just a dream.” His eyes screwed shut. Just another manic stage. I’ve been off serum too long. Normal hormones heating me again.

  “Jameson.” His name was a distant lullaby on her lips. Her plump, tempting, merciless lips.

  He swayed. She was persistent—and forbidden. The fact she hadn’t vanished when he closed his eyes made him want to believe her, believe she was real, that she wanted to be there with him.

  “I—” Opening to her was pointless. She belonged to Azure and had become something beyond the mission of their Universal Protectors, maybe even the universe—a Nova. Still, her voice was a beacon in the swelling darkness.

  A warm hand slid up his back, melting the tension between his shoulders.

  Her soft fingertips lifted his face. “Look at me, please.”

  Cracking his eyelids was all he mustered. She could kill Warruks in the dark, headshots no less. The anarchy brewing within him wasn’t something he was ready to confront. Not at her pace.

  She dipped her head, finding his eyes, a few wavy bangs brushing his arm. The contact tickled, stirring fireworks deep in his belly. He couldn’t resist locking onto her now.

  The undulating gold of his body reflecting in her blue irises sent his heart racing. Unfolding his arms, the red-hot light pulsing through his fingers made them look like irons in a forge.

  “Don’t be afraid,” she cooed.

  “I—I’m not. I just don’t want to be a—whatever that was!”

  Atana looked less than amused. “A prospector.” She’d caught him in his lie.

  He was terrified. He just didn’t want her to think he was, still chained by his given duty to protect her to his last drop. Command would retire him the second the teams returned from the mission when they found out what he’d done. Keeping secrets from alien telepaths was a bitch. Thinking alone was futile.

  Apparently, Atana was like many of them.

  His eyes narrowed in denial. “I’m human!”

  The clouds in the sky darkened, concealing the setting sun. Tucking his knuckles behind his elbows, he hid their luminescence again.

  Bennett always came to his home over Ocean Base Thirty-three at night, a dreamscape, to meditate and release his frustrations in private. The s
pace listened to his heart without judgment. And the weather always agreed.

  Lightning flickered outside.

  Bennett closed his mind, burrowing further into himself. Everything he was and knew was falling apart. His one safe place had become a torrent of distress.

  The house shook, the stilts snapping from their foundations. Behind him, the lamp from his end table fell to pieces. It was faithful, the first to break in every dream. Thunder rumbled violently, rattling his ribs into his heart. It felt good—a punching bag beneath angry fists. Wood squeaked and groaned as it splintered. It thumped over rocks, the sounds fading into the pounding waves below.

  “Jameson, please. Look at me!” Hands patted his cheeks.

  Not again.

  “You can’t hide from the change!”

  I don’t want this. The muscles in his jaw bulged around grinding teeth. Leave me alone!

  Her hands retracted from his face like it was made of needles.

  The walls trembled with another boom. Atana’s curse slipped out from somewhere near the sliding doors.

  Bennett refused to open his eyes and bring this delusion back into focus. He had to rid himself of its presence, the knowledge of the lies he’d lived with, the cosmic chaos now boiling him from within.

  Wings, his father had sprouted a set of fire-feathered wings. The continual knots in Bennett’s shoulder blades laced tighter, shooting pangs up and down his back. He squirmed, battling for dominance against the animal within.

  Salty air whipped through the living room, filtering through his clothes and hair like chilled daggers. Sharp tings of metal fracturing glass made his eyes twitch behind closed lids.

  The floor tilted. Atana screeched.

  Jagged and clipped, her voice carried above the storm threatening to drown her out. “If we die in here, we die in the physical realm!”

  “Why should I believe you?” Bennett turned away. “Dreams don’t have consequences.”

  A rush of plinks, clunks, and scraping fabric followed. Her hand latched onto his pant leg and pulled down with the weight of a body. A twinge of regret tugged at his eyelids.

  Atana coughed and hoarsely cleared her throat. “It doesn’t matter what you believe, Jameson. It is what it is. The change will happen with or without your consent. It is easier if you don’t fight it.”

  Bennett didn’t want to be at the mercy of an invisible power. Helpless was Meyriss, a five-year-old girl, starving on the streets, lacking the strength to hold out a hand and beg. Fighting was more his style. Protecting others. Control.

  Bennett’s beach house quivered, gales howling through its open wounds. He hung in the squalls, the raw forces pushing back his fear. Flexing his muscles, he gathered his animosity into one gnarled mass, lighting every emotional fuse, until the warhead inside threatened to burst. This would be his most violent display yet.

  If, somehow, Atana was right, and to her credit, she had made but a single miscalculation regarding her own health, death was a possibility.

  The trusting shred of him considered it.

  But his entire family was gone. Azure seemed more than happy to take his place protecting Atana and leading the shepherds and survivors. And Command eager to let him. Josie already led the team effectively in his absence. Bennett found no reason to return except to flee what was beginning to seem inevitable.

  More Suanoa would come. He knew Earth and Agutra didn’t stand a chance, not with as bloodied and broken as the shepherds and survivors were. The last imperial had warned him just before Bennett had severed its head.

  Death was fate whether now or then. He just preferred to go out leading his charge.

  Lightning arced through his eyelids in succession like strobes. He clenched his jaw so hard it ached, the welling energy prickling every corner of his body.

  Yes, almost there.

  “Jameson, please. Stop this!”

  There it is again. Definitely a dream. No way would she beg me for shit. An Independent? Hell no.

  Crackles led a gust of brumal wind billowing against Bennett’s right side, followed by a slam. A tremor ran through the floor. He felt it through his boots.

  Something heavy bumped the sofa as rain splattered against the carpet. Plastic scraped on wood. Atana grunted and let go.

  Chalk filled the air. He could taste it in every breath.

  The whirlwinds continued around him, unfaltering in their power. Cold drops bit into his skin. After several long moments bathing in the fury, Bennett realized something was missing.

  Where is she?

  A warm breeze caressed his mouth.

  Bennett’s flourishing rage stumbled.

  Silk grazed his nose. Up one side. Down the other.

  His lips parted with a gasp. So soft— And impossible.

  The touch withdrew leaving him hanging, numb, the muted racket of the storm barely noticeable over the blood coursing in his ears.

  For a heavy breath, he weltered in the empty aftermath.

  The warmth returned, sweet and spiced as a Jesiar blossom—as the fields in which they slept.

  What the hell is going on?

  Chapter 2

  COMMAND’S PRIME ASSASSIN nuzzling him made as much sense as the literal fire in his veins. Still, Bennett tried to follow, aiming to crush the doubt over what he’d felt with a second dose.

  Plush pillows of skin formed to his upper lip with nimble tact.

  His eyes flew open.

  Atana’s lashes were locked before him.

  The muscle in his chest thrummed until his entire body trembled. Around him, the world rose. He slapped a hand to the corner of the sofa. Don’t break the moment!

  Heat poured out from his bones, flushing his skin with amber light. Still, her mouth clung to his. The air he sucked in suddenly wasn’t enough.

  Above, the storm softened to a whisper until all he could hear was his ragged breath and hers—steady and calm. At some point he’d missed, her legs had straddled his.

  Lifting his free hand, he braced her hip and felt the crinkles in the leather. Impulsively, he dug his fingers in. Desire swirled low and hot in his stomach, spiking his fever. It was addicting but against the first rule of the Code.

  “Nakio, what are you—”

  “Hush.” She inched closer and embraced his bottom lip with strength. The soldier in him, practical and honorable, wanted to stop her and demand she explain. He was also sworn to take her orders and not ask questions. This was breaking so many rules, rules she’d recently reminded him of by force.

  Her sweet spice filled the humid air around them, sending his heartbeat competing against the rhythm of the storm, dashing every worry. When Command saw his hormone charts after this, they could retire him for all he cared. His entire life he’d longed for such tenderness, the knowledge he was wanted, needed, loved. Anything to ease the feeling he was the forsaken one.

  She soothed the hunger too well.

  He was a giddy teenager again, caving hard to his crush. Impulse intertwined with his serum-free cells, and he snugged her body in against his. Uprooting her feet, he hauled her over onto the sofa cushions.

  Atana screeched in surprise, trying to catch herself. A flustered giggle slipped free, harmonizing to his chuckle.

  He crawled backward and stretched the two of them out across the gray cushions. Staring up at her, he drew the wavy bangs from her face and savored the pressure of her every curve against him.

  Pushing up to sit atop his hips, Atana swept the bottom edge of his shirt toward his neck, exposing the fiery core of his being. The light radiated through his ribs and skin, flashing with every ventricular contraction. Curiosity and admiration lit her face as her fingers tracked the flares. Something about her timid interest in his change softened his apprehension.

  Built to break bone, Bennett quivered under such meager contact. The bruises on his sides from their first confrontation were finally fading. The swirls she drew submerged, cozying up around his heart, mending threadbare stitches.


  Atana’s eyes drifted off his chest to the chunk of ceiling that had crushed the coffee table. She stilled.

  “What’s wrong?” It’s Azure, has to be. His hands slid from her hips down her thighs and up again, a slow, ginger, repetitive motion. He hoped it was comforting. Regretting the kiss? He looked down at his chest. Especially with this crazy shit in me.

  A vibrant zigzag split the world outside in two. The resulting boom made Atana shiver. Sheets of cragged light crawled across the billowing clouds. The front of the house settled. Her shoulders lifted as a crack in the floor ripped by the sofa.

  Bennett cocked his head. People expressed fear when confronted by the possibility of losing what they cared about. Independents weren’t afraid of anything.

  Definitely a dream.

  Unless she was consoling him to cover her own fear. It’s what he would’ve done.

  Before he could object, his palm was pressed over her heart, her hands bracing his in place. His name a prayer on her lips.

  Atana’s skin was velvet beneath his calluses and growing hotter by the second. Bennett dared run a finger over her collarbone, scars speckling its graceful arc. He traced the fractures of light inside her ribs. From her chest, an ambient white-turquoise glow conquered her in entirety making her scars shimmer. Her eyes lifted to his with dangerous confidence.

  She dipped herself to him. The sensuousness of her voice was breath-stopping. “Tell me this doesn’t feel more real than any other dream you’ve ever had.”

  The curves of her body slid through his dumbstruck hands. Her hair fell to one side of his face—a satiny curtain.

  Sharp points grazed the length of his neck.

  Goosebumps shot down his arm and chest. He squeezed the voluptuous curves of her hips aiming to pause her so he could catch his breath. This can’t be happening.

  “It is.” The words tumbled into his ear then her lips against it. Then her teeth, a nibble. Another test of how much he could take.

  A quiver of delight ravaged Bennett’s body, evoking a tormented groan. Real or not, he was with her. Every moment he spent entangled in her sparked a greater longing.

  Do it. He eyed her leathers. Come on, man, you’ve wanted to from the moment you saw her.

  Heart sprinting, he unzipped her jacket in one swipe and tore it from her arms tossing it to the floor. Between her shoulder blades, he grabbed hold and flipped them over. Laying her beneath him, Bennett cautiously rested the weight of his body against hers.