Destiny's Touch (The Complex Book 0)

by Jane Hinchey

  Here. Now. This man. Mine.

  I grabbed his hair, pulling his head down for another kiss. The moment our tongues met, I climaxed, my inner muscles squeezing him tight. This time, he came with me, pumping hard, coming inside me. He roared, giving one last thrust, until he finally collapsed on top of me, utterly spent.

  My bed was trashed, and I didn't care. The covers were on the floor, the pillows across the room, the sheet torn where I'd gripped it too tight. It was all worth it. My body positively thrummed with satisfaction. I'd had my fair share of lovers, but none of them compared to Maddax. We fit together as if made for each other.

  Then, we slept. I remembered stirring in the early hours of the morning when he pressed a kiss to my naked shoulder, murmuring something about work, that he'd be back later. I'd fallen back asleep, but now I was rested and fully awake. I stretched my arms out across the bed, arching my back. I was still on a high. What a day it had been—a fight with my father, my mysterious powers kicking in, and an epic love-making session with Maddax. None of which I'd been expecting.

  Climbing out of bed, I had a quick shower and dressed. I wasn't sure how soon my father would get my status revoked, but I guessed he'd move like lightning, since he seemed so eager to be rid of me.

  I called ahead and booked an appointment with the Ama Seldova Administration to discuss my options. Twenty minutes later, I was seated opposite a woman whose hair was pulled back so tight it looked painful. She looked across her desk at me, then down to her mini-tab, swiping her finger across the screen as she read my file.

  "You are correct that your status has been updated," she told me.

  I nodded. I wasn't surprised.

  "And technically, since you are no longer the representative of the Shepard family, you should be removed from the Complex," she added.

  I sucked in a breath. They'd remove me? I hadn't expected that, but now that the possibility of total freedom was on the table, my heart raced in anticipation. Thoughts of Maddax scattered through my head, but I pushed them aside—I’d deal with him later.

  "However," she went on, "it was your personal agreement to participate in the Complex that counts. We have your signature on record. You stay."

  "I don't remember signing anything," I protested. Probably because I'd been drugged. Anything could have happened when I was dragged through the arrival process by my father's bodyguards, then dumped in my room. I simply didn't remember what.

  The woman held out her device, and sure enough on the screen was my thumb print and signature.

  She cleared her throat, discomfort flashing across her features. "Your father also notified us of your change of species status."

  "My father knows nothing. All he has are crazy accusations against me and my mother," I spat, suddenly furious. One last attempt to control my life, the bastard. Of course he'd alerted the Complex—now they'd want to run tests and keep me locked up in the medical wing.

  "Species transitions do occur from time to time," the woman cut in, "although they are usually expected. I understand your family didn't know you were Meta." She said the word Meta as if it were a dirty word.

  I sighed. This was why it was a crazy idea to force Metas and humans to co-habit in the same space. None of us were designed for it.

  "There are protocols in place for these situations," she said. "First you need to be reclassified and will need medical confirmation of your species. Do you know what species you are?"

  "No, I do not."

  She frowned. "Very well. The first step is to determine your species. Then you need to be classified into risk level."

  "Risk level?"

  "Are you likely to be a danger to the humans in the Complex? High-risk Metas who can't control their impulses are housed separately," she said.

  "Making a mockery of the whole experiment," I said. "You determine a Meta high risk and lock him away regardless."

  She shifted in her seat, but didn't answer, just swiped her finger over the screen again. "Once all of that has been taken care of, your skills will be assessed and any natural aptitudes will be taken into consideration."

  "Consideration for what?" I demanded.

  "Work. You are correct that you are now eligible for work roles in the Complex, but you need to be matched with what is suitable."

  My hands curled into fists in my lap. "Why can't I choose what I want to do?"

  "That's not how it works."

  "This isn't so much an experiment as a glorified prison," I grumbled.

  She ignored me. "Your home situation will then be reviewed."

  "What does that mean?"

  "We will decide if it is appropriate for you to remain in your current accommodation or be relocated."

  "My accommodation is paid for, up front, and I don't care what anyone says, I'm staying there," I spat. "Neither you nor my father can take that away. You may think I'm some ditzy socialite who can barely walk and talk at the same time, but I've got news for you. I have a brain and I know how to use it. I've done my research. I know my rights and I will fight for them."

  She sat back in her chair, alarmed. I wasn't the push-over she’d clearly thought me to be. I'd go along with their crazy procedures to a certain point, mainly because I wanted to know what species I was as well. It suited my purposes, and as much as I hated the thought of submitting to their tests, I couldn't see any other way of learning the truth.

  "We're done here." The door behind me slid open and two Intras stepped inside, clearly identifiable by their black uniforms with the red AS patches on the shoulder.

  "Take her to the medical pod," the woman said. "She is not to be released into general population."

  "What?"

  The Intras grasped my arms and dragged me to my feet. As they pushed me out the door, I turned my head to look at the woman, but she refused to meet my gaze. Had she tricked me? What did she mean I wasn't to be released into general population?

  Was I a prisoner?

  The medical pod was identical to all the others in the Complex—grey floors, white walls. I was shown into a room that contained a gurney and little else. The Intra had instructed me to wait here, then left. I couldn't hear anything beyond these walls, so I assumed the room was soundproof. I tried the door, but it wouldn't open. I was a trapped.

  I sat on the edge of the gurney, swinging my legs, and waited. It must've been over an hour before the door slid open and a middle aged man walked in. He wore a pale blue tunic and white trousers. Medical personnel.

  "Emilea Shepard," he said.

  "Is that a question?" I replied.

  He jerked his head up from his mini-tab and looked at me for the first time. "Sorry. No, not a question. You're here for species determination, I see."

  "Apparently."

  He continued to read my file for a few more minutes, then crossed to the far wall and waved his hand over a panel I hadn't noticed before. A table flipped out from the wall and a row of instrument panels appeared. Clever. Putting his device on the table, he picked up a syringe and headed my way.

  "Our best bet is to do a DNA analysis on your blood," he said. "That will tell us a lot. Hold out your arm, please."

  He drew the blood and returned to the panels. I couldn't see what he was doing, since his back was to me, but I figured, based on the flashing lights and the whirring of machines, that something was happening with the blood sample he'd taken.

  He came back to me. "While we wait on those results, tell me what happened."

  "Um," I said, thinking. "Well, I started to have visions of a woman who looked like me, only she wasn't."

  "Anything else?"

  "And when I got angry with my father, I had this explosion of power that burned my carpet and overturned furniture."

  He raised an eyebrow at me and made notes in his mini-tab. "And nothing like this has happened before?"

  I shook my head. "No."

  "What do you think triggered it?"

  Street fighting with Maddax. When our sk
in touched and I tasted his blood. It had crossed my mind that maybe I was vampire, but I didn't have a craving to drink blood, and I wasn't averse to light. But I didn't tell him that.

  Instead, I shrugged. "I don't know."

  "I see." He studied me intently for a second, and I wondered if he knew I was lying. I was pretty sure he was human. I couldn't sense anything from him, but then, I was new to my powers and he could be adept at hiding his.

  "Right," he said. "Time to examine you."

  For the next hour, I underwent a physical examination, a battery of scans, and more blood work, until finally he seemed satisfied. He stood back, his eyes on his mini-tab again.

  "Your DNA profile is ready," he said.

  "And?" I leaned forward, eager to hear the results.

  "You're a Phoenix."

  "A Phoenix," I repeated, stunned. "Aren't they extinct?"

  The doctor nodded, crossing his arms. "Almost. They’re very rare, and the war didn't help. Phoenixes can regenerate, but only once every five hundred years. If they die too soon after regenerating, they die for good."

  "I'm only twenty-four years old," I said slowly. "So I must have died and regenerated? But I was a baby…so I was reborn, not regenerated?"

  "You're part right. You're a natural-born Phoenix, meaning your Phoenix parents conceived you and your mother gave birth to you. You haven't died and been regenerated."

  "So my parents—Mike and Helen Shepard—they can't really be my parents, can they? Because they're human."

  "Mike and Helen Shepard are definitely human, so I'd suggest they either adopted you or some sort of switch took place."

  "It wasn't an adoption," I said. I was sure of that. "I would have known about it. My father would have thrown it in my face at every opportunity. He’s already accusing my mother of having an affair. He thinks that's why I'm Meta."

  "Nope, that wouldn't work." The doctor shook his head, "Only two Phoenix parents can create a Phoenix baby. If a Phoenix mates with another species, they can still produce offspring, but not a Phoenix."

  "So someone switched me with their human baby," I whispered. "Who would do that? And why?"

  My mind was reeling. My mother wasn't my mother? Had she known? Had she sensed that I wasn't the child she'd given birth to? And what had happened to their baby—the human baby? I turned to the doctor for answers.

  He shrugged. "Any number of reasons. Usually, when a Meta baby is swapped for a human baby, it's to hide the Meta baby. To keep it safe. And the practice is to only swap with ailing human babies. Babies that won't survive."

  I couldn't fathom it. Had I been switched at birth because I was in immediate danger? Was the woman I'd seen in my visions my real mother? It would explain the love I felt whenever she appeared to me. But why give me away? If she loved me so much, how could she bear to be apart from me?

  "I've updated your species to Phoenix, and your risk factor is low, so you are free to go, Emilea," the doctor said. "You pose no risk to the occupants of the Complex."

  "Right. Thank you."

  Sliding off the gurney, I headed to the door that now stood open. The day had been exhausting; as I received an answer for each of my questions, another three popped up in its place. Would it be possible to find my birth mother? Was she on planet Raxu, where I thought I'd been born? And how would I track her down while I was stuck in the Complex?

  With all the unanswered questions, a headache had started to pound behind my eyes. My whole life had turned upside down in the last twenty-four hours, and it had all started with Maddax. His touch had triggered me. I needed to find out how and why. And I needed to find my real family.

  Lost in thought as I walked through the city center, I was caught off guard when a hand clamped over my mouth and dragged me back into a dark alley. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a hand holding a blade, ready to strike. There was no time to think, only act.

  I launched myself up, flipping my body over my assailant’s shoulder. He had no choice but to release me, or else risk me snapping the arm that had been clamped over my mouth. I turned, crouching, to face him. He was dressed head to toe in black, his hair and the lower half of his face obscured by a hood. All I could see were his eyes, green and focused on me. He matched my stance as we circled each other.

  I could tell that he knew what he was doing. He’d been trained in hand-to-hand combat, and given the size of him—and the sharp weapon he held—I knew my best bet was to run. This wasn't a street fight. He wanted to kill me. I could ponder why later, but right now, I needed to focus all my energy on incapacitating him long enough to get away.

  When he lunged, I evaded, feeling the brush of his hand against my waist as I twisted away. That was close. Too close. And he was a hell of a lot faster than I'd anticipated. Before I could gather my wits, he dove at me again, landing a punch on my face. My cheek throbbed where he’d struck me, and I saw red. With a flurry of fists and feet, I managed to get him off balance, toppling him with a kick to the groin. I didn't hang around to see how long he'd writhe on the ground.

  I ran. For my life.

  By the time I reached my apartment, I was breathless and paranoid. Had I been followed? I didn't think so but, I couldn't say with certainty that I hadn't.

  "Secure the premises. Full lockdown," I commanded my AI.

  "Lockdown initiated," the melodic voice informed me.

  I blew out a breath, feeling marginally safer. But my face throbbed. I checked out the damage in the bathroom mirror. A dark, tender bruise marred my skin from cheekbone to jaw, but nothing was broken. And given my new healing powers, I knew the bruise would be gone soon. For now, I had more pressing matters to deal with. Like who the hell had attacked me, and why.

  Was it a disgruntled competitor from the street fights? Someone I'd beaten whose pride couldn't take it? Street fighting was illegal, but we were a reasonably honorable bunch, and I couldn't really believe anyone would come at me with a knife if they had a beef with me. They were more likely to demand a rematch. So if not a fellow street fighter, then who?

  My mind was going around and around in circles, and I was wearing a groove in the floor from all my pacing, when a piercing alarm filled the air. Since I'd activated the lockdown on my apartment, anyone approaching my front door—the only access point—would trigger the alarm. Someone was outside.

  "Identify," I commanded the AI.

  "Maddax Boyer."

  "Alarm off. Allow entry, then reset." The blaring stopped and the front door opened. Maddax stepped inside, looking confused.

  "What's going on?" He frowned when he heard the beep of the alarm being reset. Then he saw my face. He was by my side in an instant, cupping my chin in his hand as he surveyed the damage.

  "Who did this?" Fury darkened his words.

  I shrugged. "Don't know. That's what I've been trying to work out. I was jumped walking past an alley in the city center. Didn't see his face. He had a blade, meant business."

  "Fuck. Are you okay?" He hugged me to his chest and I let myself lean on him. It felt good to have someone care.

  "I'm fine. Rattled, but fine. I've been trying to figure out who would do this, but really, I have no clue."

  "Could it be related to the street fights?" he suggested.

  I shook my head. "I don't think so. There's honor amongst thieves, as they say. I don't think any of my past opponents would stoop this low. I was actually wondering if it could be related to the Humans First Group. They want me to join their cause."

  He raised an eyebrow. "Interesting recruitment technique."

  "Reverse psychology, perhaps, to scare me into joining them. For protection?"

  "Let me ask around. I have some connections."

  "Connections in the finance industry?" I laughed. "I can't see how they'll be of any help."

  His eyes dropped to the floor and he frowned. Releasing me, he strode into my bedroom and flung open my closet. He grabbed the lone bag that had accompanied me to the Complex and started shoving
a handful of clothes in, then headed to the bathroom to scoop up my toiletries, too.

  "What are you doing?" I asked, following him.

  "You're staying with me," he said. "Until we get to the bottom of this and neutralize the threat, it's not safe for you here."

  "It's against the Complex rules to cohabit," I pointed out.

  "They don't need to know and I don't care about the rules."

  "Wow. You surprise me," I admitted. I had always been a rule-breaker, constantly throwing caution to the wind, but I'd taken Maddax to be someone who always toed the line.

  Then again, he was involved in the street fights.

  "There's something else you need to know," I said. "I’m Meta."

  "I thought as much." He dropped the bag and crossed to me, cupping my face in his hands. "It doesn't make a difference to me, but spit it out. What are you?"

  "I'm a Phoenix," I whispered. I still didn't know what any of it meant, not really. I knew nothing of my people, of my powers, of my life span. Nothing.

  "Wow. You really are unique." Dropping a soft kiss on my lips, he picked up the bag with one hand and took my hand with the other. "Come on, flame girl. Let's get out of here."

  Maddax's apartment was in the same housing dome as mine, only he was several floors below, in the inner ring. His place wasn't as big or luxurious as mine, but it wasn't far off. It had clearly cost money, and I was surprised he earned that much. And I was dead jealous of his view. The jungle. His apartment looked out over a wild tangle of greenery. I stood at the window, my hands pressed against the glass, and drank it in.

  "I know it's not as well appointed as your place, but I hope you'll be comfortable here," he said behind me.

  I turned to him, unable to stop my grin. "It’s fantastic! I didn't know you lived in this dome. Why didn't you tell me?"

  He shrugged. "It never came up. Does it matter?"

  "Not at all, but if I knew you had this view, I'd have been here every day!"

  He smiled, pulling me into his embrace and resting his chin on top of my head. "Glad you like it."

  Twisting in his arms, I looped my arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. As soon as our lips touched, the fire ignited, burning through me, sending any lingering worries scattering out of my brain like dandelion fluff on a windy day. Nothing mattered. Just the here and now. His touch, his taste.