The Twelfth Keeper Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Belle Malory

  “Yes, that’s it,” he agreed, sounding slightly annoyed. “Deathly afraid.”

  She shoved him again, this time hard enough to sway him back. “Hit me back.”

  He shook his head again, keeping his eyes trained on her. “I won’t hurt you.”

  They were causing a scene. Eyes burned holes in her back, but she didn’t care. “Fight me,” she said again. This time she swung at his face. Instead of punching him, like she was trained to do, she slapped him. Hard.

  Embarrassed, she flexed her hand, feeling the sting. That was such a girl thing to do, not the mark of a trained fighter, and the fact that she had done it only made her madder. “Fight me, damn you! Fight me!”

  She didn’t even leave a print. His cheek turned a few shades redder, but that was it. “Ask me anything else,” he pleaded. “I’ll do anything else.”

  She stepped closer to him, feeling her heart slam against her chest at his nearness. “Hit me. Come on and take a swing.”

  “No,” he said, keeping his fists planted firmly at his sides. “I could never hurt you.”

  “I could.”

  They both looked up, startled by the distraction. Fang hopped down from her seat in the surrounding bleachers. She sauntered across the floor, coming to stand directly in front of Kennedy. “If it’s a fight you’re looking for, I’m game.”

  “You want to fight me?”

  Fang circled around her, giving her the once over. “We’re both about the same size and height. Of course, I have the most experience—”

  “Okay.”

  Wiping the smirk off Fang’s face sounded as equally satisfying as hurting Phoenix. And if he wasn’t going to fight her, than she was the next best thing.

  “Okay?” Phoenix shook his head, stepping between them. “Kennedy, have you lost your mind? You aren’t fighting Fang.”

  “Why not?”

  “Yeah, why not?” Fang asked from behind him.

  He gaped at her. “She’s got years of experience on you, and,” he added, scowling over his shoulder, “apparently an agenda.”

  Kennedy sidestepped Phoenix, tired of being told what to do. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but this is my decision. And since you won’t fight me, she’ll do just fine.”

  She headed to the center of the room where the sparring matches took place. Fang followed behind, stretching her neck back and forth, wearing a mask of severity. Kennedy didn’t let it intimidate her.

  Somewhere in the background, she heard Davaris talking to Phoenix. “You can’t stop her, Nix. Leave them alone.”

  One of the trainers, Zane, came to stand between them. “If you’re gonna spar, you’re gonna spar by the rules, got it?”

  Kennedy and Fang both nodded. They knew what the rules were.

  “Okay. You begin when I sound the buzzer, and not a second before, got it?”

  Again, they nodded. A crowd gathered around for the fight, mostly keepers and trainers, and a few guys with buzzed heads and bulging muscles Kennedy recognized as military.

  A few moments later, the buzzer went off. Fang didn’t waste any time attacking. Kennedy barely managed to move out of the way before a fist was thrown her way. She ducked, but when she came up, Fang was already waiting for her. She wasn’t so lucky the second time around. Fang struck hard, and the blow hit her square in the chest. The move sent Kennedy tumbling backwards, unable to breathe.

  Inwardly seething, she fought to catch her breath. She wasn’t about to let all her pent up fury go to waste. She faked a right, and when Fang came after her again, she swung her leg around, kicking her clueless rival in the left side. Fang fell to the floor, clutching her ribcage.

  Kennedy took a few deep breaths. She’d put all her strength into that kick, and when she saw that it had worked, one corner of her mouth turned up. Phoenix had taught her that move. Her eyes instinctively sought his, finding him in the middle of the crowd. Pride glowed from within his black eyes, making her forget her anger for a moment.

  “You’ll pay for that,” Fang muttered, standing up.

  She wasn’t lying.

  Fang moved so fast she didn’t have time to blink. She blocked a right, only to be tripped from the left. She fell hard on her stomach. Once Fang had her on the ground, she wouldn’t let her back up. Every time she attempted it, a harder blow brought her down again.

  Rolling out of the way was her only option. She did it quickly, then propped herself up. Fang’s foot was there to stop her. It rammed past her wrist and straight into her jaw. Something cracked, and Kennedy hoped to God it wasn’t her face.

  “Enough!” a gruff voice shouted.

  Didn’t matter though—Kennedy knew she was down for the count. She lied on her side, feeling so much surging pain in her wrist and jaw that she knew she was on the brink of passing out.

  “Phoenix, you can’t!” said a different voice—Davaris, maybe. “She’s a girl!”

  “I don’t care if she’s a fucking girl! I swear to God I’m going to kill her!”

  Scrambling ensued, followed by the sound of the two of them struggling. “Let it go, Nix! She’s your friend, who happens to be apart of our circle.”

  Kennedy craned her head to see Davaris holding Phoenix back, his arms locked around him from behind. “If you do this, you’ll regret it,” he said.

  “I said enough!” said the same voice from earlier, but closer this time. Kennedy glanced up to see the white of Professor Mason’s beard hovering above her. “Fang Chen, I’m barring you from combat for the next week,” he said. “You know the head is off limits, and so is kicking your opponent when they’re down!”

  “Just a week?” came Fang’s sardonic reply. She shrugged, unaffected. “In that case, it was well worth it.”

  “Two weeks then. And you can forget about the flight training you requested.”

  This time she stared at him like he’d gone off the deep end. “You can’t do that!” she cried. “I waited months to get approved!”

  “Say one more thing, and you’ll be waiting years.”

  Her lips tightened into hard, thin lines. She glared at him, and then down at Kennedy, before stomping away.

  Witnessing her disappointment didn’t make Kennedy feel better. In fact, she’d gladly switch places with Fang. The satisfaction of winning would have been worth anything Mason could dish out. I know I’d rather be punished than humiliated.

  Someone’s hands were on her arms and in her hair, gently turning her onto her back. “Kenn—Kennedy, are you okay?” Phoenix’s voice was strained, every syllable coming out choked.

  When she tried to speak, a metallic taste filled her mouth. Blood gushed from her lower lip, throbbing where she’d been kicked.

  “We need to take her to the medic right away.”

  “Calm down, Nix, she’ll be fine,” Mason said. He kneeled down, meeting her gaze. “Kennedy, are you able to stand?”

  She wiggled her legs, feeling no pain there. “I think so.”

  When Mason went to help her up, she screamed. Little black dots danced before her eyes as a torrent of pain shot through her wrist.

  “Fang kicked her there,” Phoenix said, looking pale.

  “Oh, kiddo, I’m so sorry.”

  Kennedy breathed in and out, taking the pain one breath at a time. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

  All in one swift motion, Phoenix swooped her up into his arms, taking care not to touch her wrist or face. Telling him to put her down was on the tip of her tongue, but…dammit, it hurt too much to talk. So she let him carry her.

  “We’ll get you into a Medi-Bed,” Professor Mason said from behind. “You’ll be good as new in no time.”

  She groaned when she realized they were headed in the direction of Dr. Sigly’s office. That woman was the furthest thing from a healer she had ever known, and considering their history together, she hoped to never see the good doctor again. Honestly. Were they trying to finish her off?

  Once they were inside, Phoenix slowly set h
er on her feet, careful not to hurt her in the process.

  “Go back to training, Nix,” Professor Mason told him. “Dr. Sigly will take care of her from here.”

  “That doesn’t sound promising.”

  It was obvious the professor wasn’t used to disobedience, especially from Phoenix. “She’ll be fine,” he said, staring him down. “You’ll only be in the way.”

  A muscle in Phoenix’s jaw twitched, and they stared at each other for a while, each of them waiting for the other to break. “Fine, I’ll leave,” he said, with an implied but coming. “But I’m waiting in the hall.”

  Phoenix eyed Kennedy one last time. “If you need me for anything, anything at all, you only have to shout. Okay?”

  His protectiveness both confused and comforted her. It could’ve had something to do with the last time she dealt with Dr. Sigly. Phoenix had come to her rescue, after all, and maybe that was why she suddenly felt like latching onto his arm, refusing to let him leave her sight. Or maybe Fang had kicked her too hard, and some of the damage went to her brain. Either way, she wanted him to stay. She wanted him close.

  “Okay?” he asked again.

  She nodded, looking away before he saw her hesitation.

  This has nothing to do with my feelings for him, which have died completely, she assured herself. This is purely my survival instinct kicking in. That’s ALL it is.

  Or at least she hoped so.

  Briskly clicking high heels signaled Dr. Sigly’s arrival. She bustled into the room, pulling a lab coat over a cinched black dress. “You paged, Professor?” She strapped on latex gloves, barely sparing him a glance.

  “Yes, Miss Mitchell has gotten into a bit of a scrape. She—”

  “Good God, will you look at her!” Dr. Sigly gasped at the sight of Kennedy. She rushed to the supply cabinet, rifling through its contents.

  Professor Mason stiffened. Apparently the doctor set him on edge as well. “As I was saying,” he continued. “She has a split lip, numerous abrasions, possibly a cracked jaw—”

  “I will take stock of her injuries for myself, thank you.” The doctor sidestepped the professor to get to Kennedy, carrying an armful of gauze and solutions.

  Professor Mason went red in the face. He turned away from them, mumbling what sounded like damned aggravating woman.

  “What was that, Professor?” Dr. Sigly asked.

  “Nothing!” he snapped.

  Kennedy sucked in a breath, never having seen him look so angry. Dr. Sigly didn’t even blink. She simply went about her business, ignoring the professor as if he wasn’t in the room.

  She dabbed a cloth at Kennedy’s bloody chin. Cold gray eyes beneath angular brows scanned her face, assessing the damage. Kennedy stood a little straighter, trying not to allow Dr. Sigly’s towering height and severe features intimidate her.

  It’s time to face your fears, Miss Mitchell.

  According to Level 3 gossip, General Vickard reprimanded and suspended Dr. Sigly for subjecting Kennedy to her brutal methods of training. Suspension wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to a DOE employee, however Dr. Sigly epitomized the all-work, no-play type, so for her, it just might have been.

  Since then Kennedy wondered what it would be like when they crossed paths again. Did she hold a grudge? Was she wishing Kennedy had drowned to death that day?

  The doctor unwrapped a compress, tossing the lining in the trash. If there was any resentment behind her cool, reserved exterior, Kennedy certainly couldn’t tell. If anything, Dr. Sigly was being extra attentive in her care. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, she wasn’t sure.

  “Hold this against your mouth, keeping pressure on it,” Dr. Sigly instructed, handing her the compress. “It will numb the area and stop the bleeding. Take a seat for a second while I prepare the Medi-Bed.”

  Kennedy lowered herself into the nearest chair, watching Dr. Sigly shuffle out of the room. The compress automatically grew icy-cold in her hands. “What’s a Medi-Bed?” she asked Professor Mason.

  “You’ve never heard of one?” he asked, surprised.

  “Not until today.”

  He scratched his head, staring at the wall. “Well, ah, it looks like a tanning bed. Same idea, too. You lie inside of it, and an array of light bulbs surround you. The difference is that it compresses light and heat to reenergize your blood vessels. Speed them into action, so to speak. By the time you get out of it, your bruises will look weeks old and your pain will fade drastically.”

  Kennedy eyed him skeptically. “Sounds too good to be true.”

  “It works, trust me. Had to use it myself last year when I tore some ligaments in my leg. Never exit a sphere too soon—that was the lesson I learned.”

  Ha. That was rich, coming from the same man who assured her spheres were perfectly safe modes of transportation when she was reluctant to use one. “So what else do the beds do?” she asked. “Can they heal broken bones?”

  “No, but it won’t be long before they can, along with performing major surgeries as well. Technology is on the brink, or so I’ve heard.”

  Dr. Sigly came back, ending their conversation. “Come with me,” she said, adding, “and I told you to keep the compress on your mouth.”

  Kennedy did as she asked, following her into a room that was empty except for the Medi-Bed. Next, Dr. Sigly asked her to strip to her underwear, which was embarrassing enough on its own, and made worse when she struggled to use both hands, resulting in her having to ask for help.

  The bed itself, however, wasn’t so bad. Bright lights flashed and scanned her body for the next hour. Her skin tingled and itched in areas with more damage, but it wasn’t painful. She actually fell asleep during the whole process, and when she woke up, Dr. Sigly was opening the bed.

  “Sit up slowly. Tell me if you feel any pain.”

  Feeling dizzy, she sat up and flexed her swollen wrist. The pain was dull—almost gone. She touched her chest where Fang had kicked her. No pain at all. She hopped out of the bed and stood, trying to remember where her injuries were located. Her fingertips sought her lower lip. There, she felt nothing but dried blood and a scabbed cut that felt weeks old.

  Incredible.

  “You still need a glaze for your mouth,” Dr. Sigly advised her. “It’s works similar to liquid stitches, ensuring that the cut doesn’t reopen because even though it feels old, the density is the same. The Medi-Bed can’t grow skin—yet.

  “Also, you’ll need a band for your wrist. The bone was fractured, but it’s not bad. I’d say you should be fully healed within a week’s time. Other than that, how do you feel?”

  “Fine,” Kennedy said. “Better than fine, actually.” Evidence of her fight with Fang was all but missing. Too bad she couldn’t erase the memories of it as well.

  “Good,” Dr. Sigly said. “After you get dressed, I’ll apply the glaze, get you the band, and then you’re free to leave.”

  Free to leave.

  Kennedy looked down at her body, still amazed. It was almost tempting enough to challenge Fang to a rematch.

  ~ ~

  Phoenix kept his promise. Kennedy found him waiting outside the office door when she walked out of it. His eyes roamed over her face, falling to her mouth. “How do you feel?”

  “I’m fine. The pain is pretty much gone.”

  Looking into his eyes was the same as looking directly at the sun. She couldn’t do it. His concern for her radiated from him. Behind that was a troubling guilt. It wouldn’t surprise her if he blamed himself for what happened, even though it wasn’t his fault. What led to fighting Fang was a mixture of anger and bruised pride, and she knew it. She was totally one hundred and ten percent to blame, but he would never see it that way.

  Well, hadn’t she wanted him to feel shame? Hadn’t she wanted him to feel regret? After all, he was the one who betrayed her.

  I wanted him to regret what he did, not what I did.

  Phoenix rubbed the back of his neck. “I never meant for this to ha
ppen. I should’ve never let you fight her.”

  Kennedy drew the courage to look at him. “Today wasn’t your fault,” she said. “Besides, I didn’t ask for your permission.”

  “You’re angry because of me. You fought Fang because of me. That makes it my fault.”

  “No, I’m angry because I made bad decisions.” Decisions that led to you stomping all over my heart.

  “Don’t say that,” he said, wincing. “Don’t treat this as if I was your bad decision.”

  “Weren’t you?” She cut him with her gaze. “Because it sure seems that way.”

  “Look, Fang thinks she’s in love with me.” The words rushed out of his mouth as if he were uncomfortable acknowledging them. “She sprung this on me while you weren’t here, telling me I never gave her a fair chance. It took me by surprise, Kennedy. I would have never guessed it in a million years. I thought our relationship was based on the kinship of our circle. Never more than that.”

  “You kissed her.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “She kissed me, and if you saw any proof of that, you know it’s the truth.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. It was the truth, but beside the point. Lips were touching lips, dammit. “You didn’t pull away.”

  He saw her expression and took a step toward her.

  She took a step back. Getting through this conversation required space. Lots and lots of space.

  “No, I didn’t. I’ll admit that’s where I screwed up.” He let out a low, agonized sigh. “I’ve known Fang almost my whole life. She’s incredibly stubborn. When she has her mind made up about something, she doesn’t back down. I figured I would put an end to all of this by showing her there was nothing between us, but it backfired on me. I didn’t kiss her back, and she saw that as me not giving her a chance.”

  A door opened and closed a few rooms down. Kennedy waited until she was sure they were alone before asking her next question. “Why does Fang think she’s in love with you?” He used the word think before, which meant he didn’t believe it, and she wondered why. Fang loving Phoenix wasn’t impossible to imagine.