Arrested in Peace (The Complex Book Series)

by Jason Halstead

  The Complex was the only city on the planet of Lorn. It was one of the seven planets in the Seldova system. Three populated by humans, three by metas. That left Lorn, the experiment. Humans and metahumans lived side by side with each other here. An experiment in co-habitation that required people like her that were trained in taking down metas when their true natures revealed themselves. Sure, she'd had to take down a few humans too, but they usually weren't as dangerous. The bounties on humans didn't pay as well either.

  She scowled when she realized she'd been staring at her limited collection of clothing for a long time without seeing any of it. She'd ruined her armored vest taking down the nymph, so that left her with one less thing to wear. She reached up and itched the tiny implant above her left ear. It was mandatory for admittance to the Complex for humans, and a requirement she was very happy to oblige too. The chip protected her from direct mental control by the metas. If only they could do something about Dag'on's pheromones…

  Val made up her mind and unbuckled her belt and hung it from the hook next to her bed. She grabbed a light blue dress and pulled it over her shoulders. The diagonal cut of the skirt gave her freedom to move and the spaghetti shoulder straps that wrapped around the back of her neck stayed out of the way of her arms. Her nanobots scurried under her dress, rearranging themselves into random swirls and designs on her arms, neck, and back.

  She glanced at the gun and then down at her body. There was nowhere to hide it. Her nanobots would have to suffice. She wasn't headed into trouble, as far as she knew, but trouble had a way of finding her.

  Val's head jerked up as she remembered everything Dag'on had said about how hard she was to track. Were there people waiting for her to come out now? Then he could intervene and save her? His contract would be over and he'd be free and clear, but what about next time? Now that they knew what to look for, would she be able to survive another day?

  She growled and turned back to her closet. She needed something else. Something stronger. Something she could fight in. Something—

  "Fuck that," Val muttered. She shut the door and turned away. She wasn't going to be afraid. Even in a dress, she'd prove she was more than a match for any of those freaks.

  She walked to the door and paused to pull on a pair of wedges that only lifted her heel an inch or so. Straps crisscrossed her feet and left her toes exposed. She paused long enough to let her nanobots color her toenails a lighter blue than her dress to offset it and then added a few light blue streaks to her hair. The rest of her hair turned a dark blue at the root and shifted to purple and then red at the tips. She stood out enough that it made for the perfect urban camouflage.

  Val lifted her chin and pulled her shoulders up and back before she opened her door. She was defiant and determined. Let them try to take her. She could have a knife as sharp as a laser in her hand in under a second. That or maybe she'd just let her fingernails turn into razor tipped weapons. She was far from helpless, even against the unfair abilities of the metas.

  She strode through the housing building, acknowledging her neighbors with a quick smile and a nod. Some returned the gestures and others shied away. Standing out meant being the center of attention. The kind of attention varied, but she accepted that. What mattered most was that no one showed her any unnatural interest.

  She made it all the way down the lift to the lobby without any of the hair on her neck standing up. Everything seemed perfectly normal, both from humans and metas alike she saw. Three young girls playing near the trunk of a thick tree looked her way and began to talk to each other. One of them pointed at her and the others nodded. Val forced her jaw to unclenched and turned to smile at them as she walked past.

  "Excuse me, Miss?"

  Val slowed and turned, taking in everything she could in case this was nothing but a distraction and an ambush. "Yes?"

  One girl giggled. Another looked at with wide eyes and parted lips. She guessed they were early teenagers until the third one tucked her hair behind her ear and revealed a pointed ear. Val's eyes tightened as she stared at the young elf. The other two lacked the high cheekbones and pointed ears, meaning they were probably human.

  "I… I'm sorry, I just wanted to say you look really pretty," the elf gushed.

  Vale glanced around again before she smiled at her. "Thank you."

  "Oh god," one of the other girls said. She laughed and turned away, pulling her friend with her.

  The elf hesitated. "What do you do around here?"

  Val's eyes narrowed for a moment and then relaxed. Elves aged different than humans, was this one even a child like the other two? "What's wrong with your friends?"

  "They're embarrassed," she said and shrugged. "Hi, I'm Pixel."

  "Pixel?" Val repeated. "That's a pretty name."

  The girls cheeks flushed.

  "And now so are you," Val teased her.

  "Stop it!" Pixel giggled. "I'm just… I mean, you look amazing, you must be somebody important."

  Val tilted her head. "Important? Like a celebrity or something?"

  The elf laughed. "No, I meant someone who really is important. Like someone who helps people who are in trouble. You know, a hero."

  "A hero," Val repeated. She nodded. "I like that definition."

  Pixel's friends called to her and gestured. The elf turned back to Val after waving at them and rolled her eyes. "Sorry, I've got to go."

  Val smiled. "Go have fun, Pixel."

  "You too!" the girl said before she darted away to join her friends.

  Val's smile faded as she walked out of the door of the massive housing building. It was still mid-afternoon and the dome overhead was lit to simulate the time of day. Was she a hero, by that little elf girl's definition? Pixel probably wouldn't think so if she knew the things Val had done. Things she'd done to metas not so different from Pixel. Even some of the humans she'd saved were scared by her. No, she wasn't a hero, she was something else. She had to fight monsters, and that meant she had to be one too.

  What would Tark think of what she'd become? She'd been so naïve and young once. They could do anything, even if she would never amount to any sort of witch. He was going to make a good wizard and with her talent she would help him be great. They had discussed all sorts of plans for their future. Plans that turned to ash when he and Davina summoned the metas that killed him.

  Val jerked her attention back to the automated transport that slowed to a stop in front of her. She looked around, realizing she'd lost track of herself for a moment. She'd made a stupid mistake, but she'd gotten away with it. No one was watching. No one was coming for her. No one had a sniper rifle pointed at her or a fiery ball of energy ready to unleash.

  She pressed the release on the door and waited until it lifted before she ducked into the vehicle. She slouched in the seat to make room for her height and her hair before closing the door.

  The transport lifted off the ground and said in a pleasant voice, "Where would you like to go today, resident?"

  "Arid zone, commerce center," Val said. "Near the warrens."

  "I'm sorry, resident, I don't know where the Warrens are."

  She scowled. The city officials damn well knew where the Warrens were, they just pretended they didn't exist. It was where people, metas and humans alike, slipped away to when they wanted to get away and make their own life. They'd dug into the ground and set up caves that were mixed in with the plumbing and power lines. She'd been down there more than a few times herself when a job required it.

  "Fine, take me to Berk's Baubles and Ointments then," she snapped. "Or as close as you can get."

  "On my way, resident. Thank you!"

  Val rolled her eyes as the zipper lifted off the ground until it was ten feet in the air and then accelerated around the circular city. There were three ways to travel: via a Glyder, taking a Zipper, or walking. The Glyders were small skiffs or boards that hovered above the ground and could only fit one or two people on them and poorly suited for travelling between zones. A
Zipper was her preferred transportation since it was an enclosed vehicle that could fit up to ten people in it. The other option was walking, and since each of the four housing domes had a diameter of twenty miles, walking was often impractical in her line of work. Berk's Baubles and Ointments was near the middle of the forest jungle and arid zone, but that was still over ten miles away.

  She leaned back in the seat and tried to relax as the Zipper zipped through the programmed flight paths through the city. As much as she wanted to clear her head she kept going back to when she'd heard the news of Tark's death. A counselor from the academy had been accompanied by a sergeant in the Army. She'd been confused at the time, and then when the numbing words poured from the counselors mouth it hadn't mattered anymore.

  She'd collapsed almost instantly. It took both of them to pick her up and move her to a chair, and then the counselor had sat and talked until he started repeating himself. The sergeant stood by, patient and silent while she broke down again and again.

  The magic she could feel and the spells she saw cast on a daily basis weren't what made Valerie believe in magic. Falling in love with Tark had done that. They'd met and she knew, instantly, that he was the one. She tingled when she was with him. She didn't need to be able to cast a spell. She didn't need to learn how to brew a potion and imbue it with magic. She didn't need to enchant a ring or a bracelet. Just knowing that he loved her and cherished her as much as she did him was enough.

  She wasn't the only failed witch or wizard. There were many that felt the touch of magic, but could never do more than see it. Those that stuck with their schooling without becoming witches or wizard became adepts. They made good assistants for wizards and witches, or they could serve in many other useful roles such as detectives, mediums, fortune tellers, or more, such as in Valerie's case.

  Sergeant Cox had stuck around to discuss her future when she least wanted to consider it. He told her what had happened to Tark and Davina, how they'd been working on some captured metahumans and trying to craft their spells against them. Something went wrong and the metas broke free of the circle of protection they'd been contained in. What followed was terrible. Death, destruction, and fire.

  He planted a seed in her head that quickly blossomed and grew. In no time she went from listless and uncaring to motivated and even dedicated. She dropped out of the academy and let Sergeant Cox walk her into the special operators division of the recruiting office. She shipped out the next day for basic training and then special ops camp, followed by intense advanced individual training to become a witchslayer.

  Six months after Tark had been buried she fought her first battle and killed her first meta. The first of many. So many she lost count, all that mattered was that she enjoyed killing the sons of bitches that took Tark from her. It took her three years to realize that it didn't matter how many of them she killed, Tark was never coming back

  Valerie looked down at her hands as the Zipper slowed and descended. Hands that had so much blood on them it stained her soul. It was probably a good thing Tark would never come back, if he did he wouldn't like what he saw.

  "Have a pleasant day, resident."

  Valerie jerked her head up and looked around. She'd arrived in the arid zone. People wore covers over their mouths and moved about with canteens or bottles of water clipped to the belts. There was little vegetation to be found, aside from the rare scraggly plant laden with spines.

  She opened the door and felt the dry heat assault her before she stepped out of the Zipper and stood. Focused air currents and specialized energy fields kept the four climate zones independent of each other, catering to the desires and needs of the inhabitants of each zone. She preferred the jungle zone and the forest housing dome she lived in, but the arid zone wasn't too bad. They favored spicy foods that she enjoyed whenever she came here, but food was the last thing on her mind.

  Up ahead was a small shop on her right. Berk's Baubles and Ointments. The owner was an example of what she might have become if she hadn't taken the route she did. An adept that peddled medicines and charms, some legit and most fake. He also dealt in information, and she'd tapped him many times in the past for exactly that reason. Behind his shop, in an alley, was a special passage into the Warrens, another reason she'd had to visit him before.

  Valerie took in a deep breath of the dry air and wrinkled her nose as it tickled her. She sniffed and took her first step. The sooner she could get this case out of the way the better. The last thing she needed was Dag'on sharing any personal information about her past with his meta friends.

  Besides, necromancer or not, Davina was supposed to be dead. She hadn't gone to Davina or Tark's, but she did confirm that it was Tark's body. How she'd survived she didn't know, but she knew there was no chance of Tark being alive too. All she had to do was find Davina and bring her in because she'd turned to necromancy. A dark art that made her almost as bad as a meta.

  Val paused at the door to Berk's to gather herself. As much she wanted to turn away she knew she couldn't. She'd never be ready to do this job. Now was as good a time as any.

  Chapter 6

  "Well hello there miss," the shop's owner said as Val walked straight down the aisle from the door to the counter. "Help you find something? Let me guess, you're looking for something to curse a lover that spurned you? I always say never leave a beautiful woman scorned. Any woman, for that matter, but especially not one as striking as you."

  "Hecta, shut up," Valerie said as she came to a stop.

  His mouth fell open and then he snapped it shut. There were very few people that knew his real name wasn't Bert. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

  Val rolled her eyes. "It's been a couple of months, your memory's not that bad."

  "Valerie?"

  She nodded.

  He threw his hands up. "How do you do it? There's no magic to you, but always so different!"

  "We all have our secrets," she said. "And that's why I'm here."

  He glanced at the windows of his shop and then the door. He frowned and pressed a button on the underside of the counter, locking the front door and turning the "Open for Business" sign off. "You're going to ruin me, the way you keep coming to me."

  "More than two months, Hecta. I think you're safe."

  He snorted and motioned for her to follow him around the corner to a back room.

  "No, I won't be staying that long," she said. "Straight and simple this time."

  Hecta returned to her, though his eyes searched the windows and shadows. "I don't know of anything that's going on right now. It's been quiet. Mostly."

  "Mostly," Val repeated. "We'll save that for another time, I'm looking for someone specific."

  "Aren't you always?"

  Val ignored him. "Heard any troubles in the cemeteries lately?"

  "Cemeteries? God, no, why?"

  "I'm looking for a necromancer."

  "A necro— you think... are the dead rising?"

  "I hope not," she admitted. "Zombies are hard to put down without making a big mess and using a lot of firepower."

  He used the excuse to look her up and down. "You don't look like you're packing much firepower in that dress."

  "You might be surprised," she said.

  He grinned. "I'll take your word for it, I'm not brave— or stupid— enough to risk finding out!"

  "Story of my life," Val quipped. "So you haven't heard anything?"

  He shook his head. "No... nothing. Sorry. Dark arts like that I'd be happy to tell you. In fact, if I hear anything I'll let you know, is your number still good?"

  "It's always good," she said.

  "All right, I'll let you know."

  Val nodded and started to turn away. "Hey," she said as another idea came to her. she turned back to him. "What about reagents and such? Anything a necromancer might want? Vials of blood, nightshade leaves or roots, bone meal... anything like that?"

  Hecta frowned and turned to his computer. "Trafficking in organs and body parts isn't legal. I don
't know where you come up with these ideas," he muttered as he began searching through his records. He frowned and then spotted one. "Okay, here's an odd list I filled a week ago," he said and backed away. "I wouldn't have thought much about it except for the nightshade."

  Val leaned over the counter to look at the screen. She noticed Hecta's eyes zeroed in on the low neckline of her dress. She let his gaze wallow in the shadows of her cleavage while she studied the list. "Powdered orega— a lot of it! Ground bistrils sprigs, memora petals, chopped schullz stalks, and nightshade roots... I don't even know what all of these are."

  "Substitutes with lesser alchemical properties. They have a synergistic effect that, when combined with nightshade juice, changes their primary usage to something only a necromancer would use."

  Val's eyes narrowed as she reread the list and dredged up from her memory what she could of the herbs, plants, and crushed rock. She nodded slowly. "I'm not sure, but I'd guess some sort of reactionary response in dead tissue?"

  "Not just reanimation," Hecta said. "False life."

  Val snorted. "That's one of the rights of passage into the dark arts, animating a zombie or skeleton. Or do you mean someone is trying to do it without using a spell?"

  He shook his head. The topic made him lose his focus on her cleavage. "No, this isn't about just animation. This is about rejuvenation of dead tissue."

  Val straightened and stared at him. "Healing the dead," she mused. "That's possible already, with magic. Short term though, it only lasts until the spell ends."

  "The orega acts as a binding agent," Hecta said. "I bet this lasts quite a while. Days or even weeks. I'm not sure, but I've dealt with enough of these herbs and compounds now, I'm considered something of an expert in these matters."

  Val waved him silent. "All right, who was it. Who bought this?"

  "Yeah, about that... it was a cash transaction," he said. "No records, just on the items sold. That and what I remember."

  Val glared at him. "What do you remember?"

  "It was a woman. She wore a dark robe— brown or grey, I think. She had a hood up too. I didn't think much of it, a lot of my customers like a certain anonymity. I'd never seen her before though, I can tell you that."