Tainted (Netherworld Book II)

by Christie Rich

  Peter grasps the bars, bringing his face as close as possible. With the door open, the air has grown cold. His unsteady breath sends out puffs of fog. “You must act before it’s too late. If I had not taken so long with Rhea, things might have been different.”

  I frown, wondering where the icy breeze is coming from. “She was turned before you ever found her. Apart from picking a different recruit, there was nothing you could have done to stop what happened.”

  His forehead slaps against the metal of his cell. “Don’t remind me. How could I have been so wrong about her?”

  Closing my eyes, I sigh. “She was very convincing.”

  “Seems I am right on time,” says Zed from the doorway. “It’s good to see you two finally talking things through.”

  “Shut the door,” I tell him before he can claim the chair Maybelle vacated. Even though I should be grateful to have Zed here, I can’t help but be disappointed to not have more time to discuss things with Peter alone.

  I stand up to grab the other chair, motioning for Zed to take another. From the look on his face, he doesn’t bring good news. Peter also takes a seat on his cot. Ian shuffles in with a grave expression. What a team we make.

  “Who wants to go first?” Ian asks.

  I grunt. “Shut the door!”

  He glances over his shoulder then at me. His eyes narrow, but he takes the time to do as he was asked. “Grumpy doesn’t suit you, Seth.”

  I smirk at him, but I’m not in the mood to explain. He should feel how cold it is in here. No one speaks up, and I have no desire to start a conversation mired in darkness. “Since you’re so eager, be my guest.”

  He shrugs. “I’m starting to think Amelia’s dad isn’t her biological father.”

  My world shifts until I find myself leaning toward him, eager for what he has to say. “Go on.”

  He smiles. “I followed Brock out of her world. The boy’s sharp. He nearly lost me a time or two, but I made it to his world. He only stayed there a few minutes before he jumped dreams again.”

  “Shifty,” says Peter with a wicked glint in his dark eyes.

  “Quite,” adds Zed.

  He’s still not telling me what I want to know. Not able to keep in my frustration, I ask, “And?”

  A swift chuckle follows, but thankfully, he gets to the point. “He entered the dream of a comatose patient.”

  Zed lets out a low whistle. “How did you follow him?”

  Since the unconscious don’t have the ability to interact with or adapt to new dreams, most the time we recycle memories for them. They are still in their dream world, but contact is limited, and the world is vulnerable. Newcomers are rare, so those looking for a hideout could hijack such a dream world without much problem. Most dreamers have a safety mechanism that will eject harmful forces; however, the Erobos work slowly, over many years . . . sometimes an entire lifetime just to feed once or twice. When a world turns dark, the dreamer no longer has control of anything.

  He still hasn’t answered. I’m about ready to explode or perhaps give Ian a good beating. I haven’t decided which would feel better, but I’m leaning toward the pounding he deserves.

  Ian takes a long breath. “I hitched a ride.”

  “What?” Peter and I ask simultaneously.

  Ian smirks and leans back in his chair. “I changed up my cover as we went along. First, I was a deer in the forest. Then I was a skunk. He didn’t want to get anywhere near me, so I had to improvise. I was a lizard, an owl, and at the last, a mosquito riding on his hat.”

  My brows lift, crinkling my forehead. “He didn’t pick up on your energy?”

  The look Ian gives me tells me I’m being too hard on the kid; he hasn’t seen Brock with Amelia. “He’s not evil, Seth, so there wasn’t enough of a difference to be of concern.”

  “You can’t know for sure,” says Peter. I’m relieved I’m not the only one who’s skeptical.

  Ian smirks. “You still haven’t gotten to the most important questions of all.”

  Zed’s usual calm snaps, his voice filling with a quiet rage. “Will you stop with the dramatics? We’ve all got work to do, including you.”

  Ian pouts, but Zed seems to have done the impossible. For once, Ian gives minimal protest. “Yeah, I know I’m keeping you from Olivia. Some of us don’t have beautiful women to go home to.” Before either I or Zed can comment, he goes on. “The dreamer’s world was wicked cool. I’ve half a mind to go back in, but I won’t until you give the okay — so don’t get on my case. They had an entire kingdom set up, and Amelia’s dad was the supreme leader. He even had a throne.” He picks at his nails. “It was pathetic, really.”

  With all his posturing, he still hasn’t answered my original question. “How do you know he isn’t the girl’s father?”

  He smiles. “Oh, I almost forgot. His energy resembles one person I’ve met, but it isn’t Amelia. He couldn’t be her maker.”

  It’s clear he hasn’t thought this through. “How do you know he’s the one who claims to be her father?”

  Muted enthusiasm makes the corners of his mouth twitch. “The boy gave the man an update all about his interaction with her. Brock embellished a bit, but pretty much said she wouldn’t come see him.”

  Zed shifts uncomfortably beside me. “I’m doing my best, Ian, but I’m still not following you.”

  Ian glances, between the three of us, and, by the open mouth and irritated frown, he’s clearly bewildered. “Aren’t you at all curious who the mystery man might have fathered?”

  “I’ll play your game,” says Peter, with a wan smile. “Who?”

  Ian leans forward, as if speaking only to Peter. “Rhea.”

  “Impossible!” I say, standing because I don’t know what else to do with my unwanted anxiety.

  Ian turns on me, anger lighting his eyes. “I’m absolutely sure of this, Seth. You know how different Rhea was. This man had the same energy pattern.”

  He’s mistaken. He has to be. “Humans don’t have such a lifespan.”

  Zed leans back to cross a leg over his knee. It’s no surprise when he begins stroking his beard. I’ve half a mind to take the scissors to it right now. When he finally speaks, he, too, has taken the absurd route. “Perhaps this man is not human.”

  “What else would he be?” I ask, throwing a hand into the air. “He resides on Earth, does he not?”

  Ian nods. “His signature suggests so, but I’m nearly convinced Earth was not his place of origin.”

  I shake my head, not able to control the speed of my thoughts or my words. “How would he be involved with Amelia? More importantly, why?”

  Peter is the one to speak up. The compassion in his tone sets my teeth on edge. “You know why, Seth.”

  Amelia is a beacon for evil and good. Peter is right. I spew out questions as more come. “How did he find her? How would he have known about her? What information do we have about her mother?”

  Zed laughs, motioning toward me. “You’d be the one to answer those particular questions.”

  His words clamor into me — I don’t know enough about my own recruit. “Amelia’s only ever told me about her father and her grandmother. I’m almost certain she hasn’t any clear recollection of her mother. We need to seek out another source.”

  Zed nods, his fingers working faster against his beard. “Was the grandmother maternal or paternal?”

  Good point. “As I understand it, maternal, and I’m quite convinced the line ends with Amelia.”

  I stare at Kelsby, wondering how to ask this obvious question without tipping him off to what I’m thinking is wrong with him. He’s not responding well to direct questions anyway. In the end, I decide to go at the problem sideways. “What’s the most vivid dream you’ve ever had?”

  Kelsby’s dull eyes brighten with interest. “In my own mind?”

  I shrug, tempted to just say duh, which brings a chuckle out of me. “Yeah.”

  He tips back then forward, making his hammock swa
y, reminding me of a kid swinging on a lazy afternoon. Only when he does it again, I figure he’s doing it on purpose. With the movement of the air comes a stench I’m starting to think is his B.O. As discretely as I can, I lift my hand under my chin and try my best to keep focused on the hint of body wash that has thankfully followed me into the dream world. Someone needs to tell him to take a bath, but I don’t want to be it on this one.

  His features pinch as if he’s concentrating to the point of pain.

  Since I’d rather not let something evil loose, I say, “How about I tell you mine?” He relaxes and nods. My dream isn’t something I’ve shared with everyone; in fact, I don’t recall telling a single soul except Justine about this. My voice falters at first, but I clear my throat and dive in. “I’ve had a pretty crappy life. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. We all have stuff we have to go through, but one of the only things that kept me going was my dreams. They’ve been awesome ever since I could remember. I especially liked the ones that felt like a movie, but once, when I was, oh, maybe five or six, I had the best dream of my life.”

  I haven’t thought about my mom in a long time. The few lucid moments I had with her are some of my favorites, but she would always revert to zoning me out one way or another. I snap myself back to the present and go on. My voice reflects the sadness I harbor, but for some reason, I can’t keep it back. “At the time, my mom was out of her head, and my dad wasn’t much better. The most I could hope for was being ignored, so I would stay in my room, if I had one to myself, or find a place that was just mine out in the yard or in a field. It all depended on where we were living.” Kelsby’s dark eyes soften, and his body slumps toward me as if in concern. I hold up my hand. “It’s okay. One day you can tell me all about your pity party.”

  He laughs. “It would take months, my girl.”

  The loss in his voice tells me his answer’s an understatement. “I’m sorry, Kel.”

  He shakes his head. “We’re not talking about me . . . yet.”

  I smile and settle myself more comfortably against the wall, eying the sofa. It would be so much more comfortable if I weren’t concerned about proximity. Since he isn’t moving to attack me, I’m pretty sure I’m safe, at least for now, but I’m not willing to test him. With a bit of effort, I finally manage to push back the emotions linked with my childhood. “Well, let’s say I didn’t get many happy moments, unless I was dreaming. I secretly wished it was my reality, and now, here I am. I totally just realized that!” I laugh before I let out a deep sigh. “Who said wishes don’t come true? I never imagined a dream world would be harder than the real one.”

  Kelsby shifts to what I hope is a more comfortable position. “It doesn’t have to be difficult, Amelia. It’s all in your training and in your attitude. You’ve advanced more in a shorter time than any recruit I’m aware of. You should be proud of yourself.”

  Heat pulses up my face, so I duck my chin. I hate it when people compliment me. I hardly know what to do when I’m not talking myself up. “Thanks.” I clear my throat. “Anyway, my best dream ever…excluding those involving Seth.” Kelsby laughs and grunts. I blush some more. Man, I wish I had control over my blood vessels. “This is the first dream to ever feet real to me, and that’s why it is so special. I found myself in this amazing place, full of beautiful colors I had never seen. The sky was so bright it was like staring straight into the sun, but in my dream it didn’t hurt my eyes. A man walked out of the light. I’d never seen anyone like him. He was glorious, and so very kind to me. He picked me up to walk down the path, pointing out the flowers and the trees, the sky, the birds . . . everything really. I was very shy then, but I connected to him in a strange way. It was like he was the family I never had. It was the one and only time I saw him, and even though I was young, I still remember what he told me.”

  Kelsby licks his lips and takes a ragged breath. “Which was?”

  My heart stutters with remembered excitement, yet loss is there, too. I close my eyes, trying to recall his image. Sometimes, I get glimpses of him if I concentrate hard enough. “He said the world was coming from me, that I was the light and the flowers and the trees. He told me I was so special that I had created the place without even knowing it. He said it was my secret spot and anytime I felt alone or down, I could go there. But the best part was he told me I could make it into anything I wanted. So all dreams afterward, I would go to my secret place where no one could find me. I made a world of rainbows and ponies and music. As I got older, I became angry that I couldn’t go there for real.” Even though I don’t want it to, my voice shakes when finish. “I looked for him every time I went there, but the man never came back.”

  Kelsby’s staring at me with wide, shimmering eyes.

  I stand. “What’s wrong?”

  He wipes his cheeks and waves me off. “It’s just so beautiful. You don’t even know what you are.”

  I frown. “What?”

  “Everyone is wrong about you. You are more than special, Amelia!”

  A slow spreading fear pulses through me, not because Kelsby is attacking me, but because he knows more about me than I do. My breath puffs out, and my voice turns hoarse. “What am I? Am I one of those Orphic things?”

  His smile goes viral, spreading nearly all the way across his face. “No, my dear girl. You are neither Orphic nor Sibylline. You are a rare gem. You are Delphic.”

  A low voice erupts behind me. “There is no such thing.”

  I spin, clutching my chest. Seth stands at the door, his eyes trained on me. Something in his gaze does more than disturb me; it takes fear to the deepest parts of me. What is happening to everyone around here?

  Kelsby beats me to the punch. “You’re mistaken, Seth. I’ve seen one in my lifetime, and Amelia is the closest thing to it I’ve come across again.”

  How old exactly is Kelsby? Why is he calling this Delphic an it? I have too many questions to contain. “Where and when did you see it?” I ask, not willing to let Seth steal my place in the lineup.

  To my surprise, Seth cuts Kelsby off. “Amelia, we need to get going. We will have to discuss this later.”

  I frown. “But I want to know what he has to say now.”

  He frowns back, a level of grit I’ve never seen in him straightening his spine and clenching his muscles. “There is a time and a place for everything. This is neither the time nor the place to discuss your origins.”

  Amelia’s stubborn streak is not what I wanted to face, let alone Kelsby filling her head with wild ideas. I’ve got to get her out of here as soon as possible. Otherwise, I will have to deal with explanations I don’t have the information to give.

  I touch her arm. “Please. We have important matters to attend.”

  Her jaw clamps together before she gives Kelsby a trite smile. “I’ll be back, Kel. Sorry about this.”

  Not to be deterred, he says. “Seth’s right about one thing. There is a time and place for everything . . . and everyone.”

  A dark shiver washes over me. I’m rather positive what is talking at the moment, and it isn’t my friend. I turn on my heel and pull Amelia into the hall. She rushes past me to the stairwell.

  I call after her. “Don’t you want to take the elevator?”

  Her voice comes out clipped, but I make out her swift reply. “No.” With a loud bang, she shoves the door open and rushes down the stairs.

  The knob catches me in the arm as I try to keep up. “Amelia, stop.”

  She doesn’t speak. Instead, she picks up speed. She’ll be to the basement in less than a minute at this pace. As if unaware of where she’s headed, she barrels downward like a demon racing back to hell. My only hope is to appeal to her logic. “There is a good reason I pulled you out of there when I did.”

  She keeps going, merely glancing at me once with venom in her green eyes. Since she won’t listen to reason, I move faster. When I’m nearly to her, she comes to a crashing halt. I pitch forward, catching her arms and pulling her against me.<
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  The glare she sends me is full of fire which lights my veins and singes to ashes my resolve to keep away from her. Her chest presses against mine with every breath she takes. In this moment, all thought leaves me. All I am is need.

  Her eyes search mine and what rests there is one question I intend to answer. I wrap a hand around her back. The other rests under her hair at the base of her neck. Her lips part as she continues to stare. I could ravish her like I want to, but I deny myself. Our bodies are communicating far better than our lips could manage. Only when her expression softens do I kiss her.

  She sighs and melts into me. I press her closer and lose all sense of time or place. My focus becomes her. All I want is to keep her making the mewling sounds driving my mind to madness.

  Her skin, soft and warm, holds the ethereal scent of berries. I pull away. “You smell delicious.”

  She brings her lips a breath from my ear. With each word she utters, my body tightens around her. “Changing the subject isn’t going to help you out of this one.”

  I laugh. “Who said I was trying to change the subject? You are the one running away.”

  She huffs. “I wasn’t running away; I was . . . putting distance between us.”

  “Same thing.”

  “No it isn’t.”

  I hold in a grunt and level my voice. “Amelia, are you ready to talk?”

  She tips her head to the side, giving me wide access to her neck. “Talking is overrated.”

  I smile then press gentle kisses along her clavicle all the way up to her earlobe. She laughs the entire time. Since she’s ruined the mood, I get back to the subject at hand. “Kelsby can’t be trusted right now.”

  Her voice holds a sad tenor. “I know.”

  I pull her down to the stairs to sit beside me. Keeping her hand tucked in mine, I rub my thumb along her palm. “But you were trying to get him to tell you about the Delphics, which do not exist. He is under some sort of influence. I merely haven’t found out what yet.”

  She frowns. “You seriously don’t know?”