Skip Trace

by Jenn Burke

  “Goddamn it, Zed.” Maddox’s fingers dug into the back of Zed’s skull as he pressed their foreheads together. “I’m supposed to be the crazy one.” His voice was suspiciously thick and a glance at his brother’s face revealed crimson eyes and nose. Mad had always been a messy crier.

  “So Bren told you?”

  Brennan looped an arm over Maddox and the three brothers just hung onto each other for a few moments. “Yeah, I told him, and Dad and Mom. Just like you said I should.”

  Zed nodded. No more secrets. Thank God. His throat tightened. “Good.”

  Maddox squeezed him, then leaned back a little. “So everything with you, it’s...you know?” He waved a hand.

  “I’m fine. In a bit of shit with the AEF, but after everything, that seems pretty minor.”

  “Yeah, I’m not sure ‘minor’ is the right word for it, but we’ll deal with it. All of us. You’re my brother and...God.” Brennan cleared his throat. “I need a beer.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Maddox said.

  Brennan steered them over toward the bar and retrieved beers for each of them. Zed craned his neck over the top of the crowd, trying to pick out Flick’s blond curls. By the time Brennan slapped a cold bottle into his hand, he’d spotted the crew of the Chaos in a corner, Elias speaking animatedly to someone Zed didn’t recognize. Qek’s face was wrinkled and she held her own beer—humans and ashushk couldn’t eat the same food, but beer had turned out to be universal—and Ness laughed at something that was said. Flick held himself a bit separate—a part of the conversation, but not engaged. Their eyes met and Zed smiled. He couldn’t help it, the man was...well, he was everything to him. Friend, lover, partner. His match.

  Flick knew that, right?

  “There you are!”

  Zed jerked his gaze away from Flick to see his mom approaching with someone in tow. A familiar someone. Salt-and-pepper hair and dark-gold skin, with eyes such a deep brown they could’ve been black. Zed had faced those intimidating features across a desk a couple of times—but not more than that. He’d been a good student. “Oh my God...Dean Darzi?”

  “Zander! Or should I say Major?” The dean accepted Zed’s extended hand enthusiastically, a wide smile etching creases on either side of his mouth. “It’s been too long.”

  “Zander is fine. Wow.” He turned a bemused expression on his mother. “Did you dig up my old tutors, too?”

  Natasha made a shushing noise and patted his arm. “They couldn’t make it.”

  “When your mother contacted me, I had to be here,” Dean Darzi said. “I’d heard...well, everyone had heard the news. About your death. It was...not an easy thing. Even with so many years passed.” He placed his free hand over their clasped palms. “I had wonderful hopes for you when you graduated Shepard Academy, Zander, and I have to say, I have not been disappointed. At all.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Zed managed a strained smile, despite the lump that seemed to have set up permanent residence in his throat. Just as well his brothers had blended into the crowd—he didn’t need them thinking he couldn’t control his emotions. But he understood suddenly why his mother had arranged for a party instead of just a small family gathering. It was one thing to know that family accepted you—they were supposed to, that was their job. While he wouldn’t trade his family’s acceptance for anything, it was a good reminder that it wasn’t only his family who had marked his absence. “It’s great to see you.”

  The dean squeezed his hand and let go. “I shan’t keep you.”

  “Flick is here too, sir. Felix Ingesson?”

  The dean’s face lit up. “You’re still friends with him? How remarkable.”

  Mom smiled and gently tugged on the dean’s arm. “I’ll take you over there.”

  Zed took a long draft of his beer as they disappeared into the crowd. Talk about a blast from the past. He wondered briefly if he should follow, maybe smooth the interaction for Flick—God knew the man could be prickly as a porcupine at times.

  Before he could follow through on that thought, a strong hand grabbed the back of his neck. “Zed!” his father boomed. “Here’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

  Zed jerked away, then tried to soften his reaction with a rueful shake of his head. “Damn, Dad, you startled me.” His father didn’t need to know that he hated anyone touching the stin claw scars at the nape of his neck.

  “Sorry, son.” Alexander ruffled Zed’s hair, then gestured for the woman with him to come a bit closer. “This is Lise Bellerose, our current head of security for Anatolius Industries.”

  “Enchantée,” Zed said, taking her hand. She wore a two-piece suit, much the same as either of his brothers might wear to work—except hers was in off-white and tailored to accentuate athletic curves. The turquoise shirt peeking out from underneath the expensive fabric of the jacket set off her striking golden-blond hair and crystalline blue eyes.

  She grinned. “Oh, he’s definitely one of your boys, Alexander.” The slightest lilt in her voice indicated that Standard English was not her first language. “Lovely to meet you at last, Zander.”

  “Zed is fine.”

  “Zed it is, then.”

  Dad beamed. “Lise has been with the company for...how long has it been? Five years?”

  “Six,” she corrected him. “I served in the war for two years, then took a medical discharge.”

  Zed’s brows rose. “Ground or ship?”

  “Ground.” She reached down and lifted her pantleg, revealing a glimpse of a mechanical prosthesis that made up her lower leg. “Luckily, there’s enough work in Sol System to keep a lady busy.”

  Damn. Zed had no doubt that the artificial leg nearly made up for the loss of her original limb, but its presence meant that Lise couldn’t travel via jump-space. Cybernetics and j-space travel just didn’t mix. She was lucky that she’d found work in a system that provided pretty much everything anyone could want, negating the need to travel to another.

  Someone bumped against his side—Flick, his fingers almost white around the neck of a bottle of beer. “Hi,” he said.

  Something loosened inside Zed, something he hadn’t known had been stressed. “Hey. Felix Ingesson, Lise Bellerose. Dad was just introducing us. She served.”

  “Oh, yeah?” After a moment’s hesitation, Flick tucked his beer into the crook of his left arm—since his left hand was pretty much useless for holding anything—and held out his right. “Pleasure.”

  “Likewise.”

  “I thought Zed should get to know who he’ll be working with,” Alexander said.

  Zed managed not to choke on his mouthful of beer and instead directed it back into the bottle without sputtering too badly. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “I thought you might want something to do over the next few days as we work out this business with the AEF,” his dad said.

  Oh. Well. Zed couldn’t really argue that, though he had thought that maybe he and Flick could have some downtime when not working to track down Zed’s former teammates.

  “Of course, something longer-term would be welcome as well.” Lise gave him an encouraging smile. “Your father and Brennan have done little but speak of you for the last week.”

  Flick stared at his beer bottle for a moment, then upended it into his mouth, swallowing the last quarter in one gulp. When he finished, he burped and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “You want Zed to stay.”

  Alexander watched Flick, his smile dimming. “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I? He can come home, we can get to know him again and he can get to know us. My family...it can be whole again. Do you understand?” he asked softly, ducking his head a little to try to catch Flick’s lowered gaze.

  “Yeah. Sure. I get it. I’m gonna get another beer.”

  Zed grabbed Flick’s arm before he could step away. “Just—”
/>
  Flick tried to jerk his elbow out of Zed’s grasp, but Zed held on and Flick stopped. “I just want a fucking beer,” he growled.

  Zed moved in closer. “I’m not deciding anything this minute.”

  Green eyes rose to meet his—eyes that should be hazel, but the poison that had changed Zed’s blood chemistry had fucked up how he perceived colors and light and dark. “What decision, Zed? You already have a job.” He slid his arm free and melted into the crowd.

  Zed watched him go. He wasn’t surprised Flick was being more prickly than usual—job offer aside, he probably didn’t enjoy the crowd any more than Zed did. He couldn’t really be that annoyed at his father’s proposal, though, could he? The chance to reintegrate with his family, get to know them again, like Dad had said—it wasn’t something he could just ignore. He’d missed them. He’d missed being a part of the Anatolius empire.

  But those long years without Flick stretched out in his memory. He’d missed Flick more. Staying on Alpha would mean letting Flick go, because there was no way he’d settle for being a part of this high-society world. No way he’d give up the Chaos and all the hard work he’d put into her.

  How could he choose between reclaiming his family and keeping the man he loved more than life itself?

  * * *

  A family reunion, a job, a solid plan for more than the next few days. Alexander Anatolius had it all planned out. Huffing quietly, Felix folded himself into his corner and watched the Anatolius brothers across the room helping themselves to drinks at an elegant sideboard made of a dark wood that was probably extinct, or farmed from a planet far, far away. At least Alexander hadn’t followed them to this...what did you call a room with books and couches and tables displaying weird objects that were supposed to be art? A library, a den? Nothing like a room full of priceless knickknacks to make him feel his slummy roots.

  “Not sure I like that look in Maddox’s eyes,” Elias said.

  “Maddox always has that look.” As if he had a secret that no amount of cajoling could convince him to share. He’d invite you to try, sure, confident in his ability to distract and redirect all inquiry until you forgot what you were after. Felix admired that. Being a straight talker himself—okay, blunt, with all the subtlety of a battlecruiser—he had a healthy respect for someone who could bend the truth to his will, and do so without laying waste to hearts and souls.

  Felix glanced down at Elias. “But I definitely think he’s plotting something.”

  “Should we warn Zed?”

  “Nope.”

  Elias was reclined on a couch that probably cost about as much as an ashushk star drive. Somehow, Elias managed to own the plush seat, though, the sprawl of his arms and legs indicating long familiarity with comfort. Or maybe it was just nice to sit after enduring the carnival of Zed’s welcome home party. Warning Zed would necessitate moving out from behind the couch. Leaving his shadow. Felix liked his shadow.

  He’d never been comfortable with crowds—parties, gatherings, lots of people in one room where dozens of gazes jumped toward and away from the scar that sawed through his left brow, dented his cheek and wrapped around his jaw. The small den was far less crowded. Just him, Elias and the Anatolius brothers, who moved as a group from the bar to the tall windows that commanded a view of space rather than the station below the family tower.

  Felix watched the three men until—”Here we go.”

  Jerking his wrist, Maddox tipped the contents of his glass over Zed’s head. Felix had seen the intent travel down Maddox’s arm in time to warn Zed, but no one had ever accused him of being a nice guy.

  “What the fuck?” Zed shook his head, droplets flaring in a halo around his dark hair.

  Brennan batted at the backsplash. “If you’re gonna shake, do it over there.”

  “I wouldn’t be wet if Mad hadn’t suddenly gone mad.”

  “Suddenly? Did you not grow up with the same guy I did?”

  “You were supposed to know what I was planning,” Maddox managed between wheezes of laughter.

  Felix battled a smile of his own. The complicated tangle of emotion pinning him to his corner suggested he not be so amused, but...Zed currently resembled a drowned puppy. Overgrown, sure, but wet, spluttering and bewildered.

  “Know what you were...what, you think I’m fucking telepathic?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “No.” Zed rounded on Brennan. “What exactly have you been telling everyone?”

  “Bet Ness is sorry she missed this,” Elias said quietly.

  “Heh, yeah,” Felix agreed. “Where is she?” They’d been split into two teams after the party. Boys one direction, girls the other.

  “Maddox’s wife—Roz, Haze? One of the wives mentioned something about Alterian mud baths.”

  “And we’re sitting here watching the brothers bicker. Solid evening plan.”

  Elias squirmed on the couch. “I dunno, man. Mud all up in your—”

  “Shift!” Zed gasped out a loud guffaw. “Not shit. Jesus, Bren.”

  “I didn’t say shit.” Brennan’s eyes had the gleam now.

  Zed patted the air with his hands. “I shift out of phase, not out of shit.” His tongue swept his lips. “But I guess it’s the same thing.”

  “Unless you’re shifting into the shit,” Elias tossed in.

  “Into the shit.” Maddox snorted softly, sounding more like the simple brother than the smart one.

  “Sometimes.” Zed’s struggle to maintain a straight face plucked at Felix’s general ill humor until the ill part began to fade...just in time for Zed to catch his eye and wink, dark lashes obscuring steel-blue for an instant before he disappeared.

  “Whoa!” Maddox spun in a tight circle.

  Turning a wider arc, Brennan made a careful survey of the den. He missed the ripple by the windows. Earth glittered brightly in the middle of the dark canvas. For a second, the planet wavered. Felix let loose his smile as he recognized the fleeting irregularity as Zed. Zed popped into view by the bar, hand closing around a slender carafe of water, then angled toward Maddox, threat obvious. Maddox wheeled backward. Zed zigged toward Brennan. His oldest brother tried a neat sidestep and ended up with a wet head.

  Elias’s laughter rang across the room. As soon as the blur of Zed turned toward him, however, he clapped a hand across his mouth. Felix took a turn at laughing, realizing only after Elias had rolled off the couch that he would be next in Hurricane Zed’s path.

  He’d sparred with Zed often enough to know he couldn’t outrun him. Not when he was in the Zone. The AEF’s experimental training had made Zed fast and nearly invulnerable, especially when he phase-shifted. In that state, he could pass through solid objects. But even put back together by the Guardians, all new and improved, Zed couldn’t hold either state indefinitely. He’d have to drop back to human speed shortly, for a breather if nothing else.

  Taking that fact into consideration, Felix leaped over the back of the couch, used the cushion to power another jump and managed to clear Elias, who laid sprawled across the floor. He landed with a light thump and immediately dodged left, then right, skirting around Brennan who still spluttered wetly. Had to put as many obstacles in Zed’s path as possible. Make him work for his victory, maybe wear himself out along the way.

  An arm caught him about the middle. Felix yelped as he was jerked off his feet. Instinct had his arms and legs flailing out, but the smile remained plastered across his face. He could smell Zed, his sweat, soap and cologne. Combined with the warmth pressed to his back and the slight dizziness from being yanked up and back, he was wrapped in a moment of joy. The thrill in his gut was excitement, not fear. They were playing, they were living. Zed would put him down and return too, without a headache creasing his brow. Then they might do it all again, simply because they could. These moments, he could handle—the li
ght ones, the uncrowded ones, the moments unobscured by the weight of expectation.

  A shrill squeal cut through the grumble of laughter and huffed breath. Zed dropped Felix to the ground and patted his back. “Hold still.”

  “Huh?”

  Why was Zed thumping his back and what the fuck was that noise? Hair rose along the back of Felix’s neck, and the creep continued over his scalp as he tried to identify the sound, placement and purpose. It had the cadence of a warning, an alarm. The pitch high and tight. Zed tugged on his belt and Felix rocked backward. Then the squeal increased in volume, all but drowning out Zed’s muttered curse.

  Felix turned in time to see Zed drop something into the carafe of water he still held. About a centimeter of liquid covered the bottom, and the fingernail-sized whatever screamed from the surface until Zed shook the container. Water sloshed over the top, killing the sound and the...

  “What is that?”

  “A NAIL.” Zed displayed his red fingertips. “I found it tucked into a rip in your belt. It must have overheated.”

  Felix’s hands went to his belt, fingers of his right dancing along the length, fingers of his clumsier left hand bumping uselessly against his hip. “My belt?” A hollow opened in his gut. All the ill returned to his humor with a sick thud. Of course it was his job to ruin the party.

  “Bren, you had better alert security. We need to scan everyone who was on the docks this afternoon. And every room we’ve been in since. Shit, the party...”

  Brennan already had his wallet out. “What are we scanning for? What’s a NAIL?”

  Felix closed his eyes. His stomach now swirled around the hollow in his middle. Not only had he ruined the party, he’d brought along an interloper. NAIL stood for Non Ambient Intermittent Listening Device.

  Zed answered his brother’s question more simply. “It’s a bug.”

  Chapter Three

  Large letters unfolded across the tinted windows that now formed a holoscreen: BACK FROM THE DEAD! The projection flashed, switching from an overhead view of the crowd waiting on the docks outside the Chaos to a close-up of Zed emerging from the cargo bay. General Bradley separated from the line of AEF to deliver his statement and then everything got a lot more animated, lines blurring as the crowd swelled out and around, held back only by the AEF.