“What was that?”
Aqulla whirled around, surprised she’d not sensed anyone’s approach. She’d been far too busy trying to gain control of her body.
“You! Are you following me?”
Shock, guilt, then defense filtered across his gaze. “I was doing my job and making sure you were doing yours.”
“Well, I’m here. You can run along now.”
“I saw what happened,” he said, crossing his arms across the wide expanse of his chest.
Panic gripped at her. A sudden need to flee raced through her veins, but where would she go? Aqulla was inside a dome, on a lone planet, a dome she had to stay inside for years without killing anyone, without giving in to the nature at her core.
The Intra before her was a threat. He saw too much with his piercing blue eyes, comprised her last chance of freedom. “Nothing happened.”
“You were going to kill him.”
“But I didn’t. I didn’t touch him, so you’ve no evidence to report. You have nothing to use against me.” Forcing the churning anxiety inside her to calm, Aqulla stared him down, daring him to take her on.
He frowned. “What makes you think I was going to report you?” There was an undertone of hurt in his voice.
“You’re Intra. It’s what you do.”
He was silent for a few beats. “I just want to know what happened.”
“When he touched me, I felt the echo of his victim’s death. I’m a banshee. It’s what I do, remember?”
“But that…. One of my men has worked with your kind. He said she functioned just fine.”
“Excuse me!” Aqulla gasped, her hands landing on her hips. “I function just fine too, thanks. Now if you’re quite done insulting me, I’m going to go function and do my job.” Aqulla barged past him and marched back into the café front without looking back. The man with the echo had left, and for that she was grateful. The rest of her shift passed without incident, but her nerves were fried, her body and soul tired. She’d planned to shop for food on her way home, but Main City was too loud for her head. Echoes lingered everywhere, each one chipping away at her defenses. Aqulla was beginning to think prison was the better option.
Later that night after a long soak in the bath and an inadequate meal of stale crackers and old cheese, Aqulla was woken from sleep by the scuff of paper across her floor. Silently climbing from her bed, she crept to the door and listened to make sure no one was outside. When she was certain she was alone, she opened it up and peered out. Her hearing had been correct; no one was there.
Locking the door behind her, Aqulla picked up the scrap of paper that had awoken her. Unfolding it, she read the words:
Aqulla, you’ve been officially relieved from work until a suitable alternative can be found, Jaylon.
Fingers tracing his name, Aqulla contemplated what this meant. He’d signed it in his name, not a formal title, and though the words held a formal note, it was a handwritten note, not some official document. It could be a trick to get her in trouble, but as Aqulla sat up for most of the night thinking through possible scenarios in her head, she couldn’t find one reason not to trust Jaylon Rowe. Since the moment he’d met her, he’d been helping her. The question was why?
With nothing but time on her hands the next day, Aqulla avoided the morning rush, then headed out to Main City in search of entertainment. She picked up a few books and movies, before grocery shopping. The whole trip took a few hours and Aqulla managed to avoid direct contact with echoes. It restored some of the hope she’d lost the previous day and reminded her she could live a normal life, under the right circumstances.
On the third day of her work-free life, there was a knock at her door. It was midmorning, but Aqulla had been up late into the night finishing off a book she was hooked on. Her plan for the day was to buy the rest of the series.
“Just a minute,” she called, dragging the towel off her head and running her fingers through her hair. Patting herself down quickly, Aqulla dashed out of the bathroom and pulled on the first clothes she found. The white, now cleaned T-shirt she’d arrived in and the trousers Uni provided.
Aqulla opened the door. “Lieutenant Rowe, hello.”
“Jaylon is fine.”
“Right…. What can I do for you?”
His gaze wandered down, then quickly up. “That T-shirt—”
“Is what I wore on arrival day so I’m breaking no rules,” Aqulla interrupted.
“I… I was going to say don’t go out in it. Uni like to keep everyone uniform.”
“Right. Okay.”
Silence hung between them. Aqulla skin warmed. She was partly uncomfortable, and partly just curious about him. Jaylon was a good-looking man. Aqulla remembered how long it had been since she’d been near a man she’d found sexy and didn’t have an echo.
“So… Jaylon?” Aqulla prompted.
“Right, yes. The reason I’m here.” He visibly swallowed. “Well, I was wondering what you did before you came here?”
“I was in prison,” Aqulla said slowly, wondering where this conversation was going.
“Well, yes, I know that. I’ve read your file. I meant before then, for work?”
“Oh.” Aqulla glanced to the floor. “Well, I kinda didn’t.” She met his gaze, not sure what to expect there. “I just helped around the house and with the coven, really.”
“Someone is going to notice if you spend the next two years in your apartment.”
“So my release from work duties wasn’t very official after all then?”
“Well, yes… I sanctioned it.”
“Why?” Jaylon looked startled by her question. He ran his hand through his hair and looked everywhere but at her. “Jaylon, why are you helping me?”
He met her gaze. “I’m not sure.”
“Okay,” she said slowly. “Well, stop. I don’t need your help.”
“Don’t you? Because it looked like you did.”
“I’ll go back to the café today and start work.”
“You can’t. I’ve already replaced your position.”
“What? Jaylon, I need to be in the Complex. I can’t get thrown out.”
“You won’t. It’s fine, don’t panic. I’ll find you another job, a quiet one out of the way. I’ll be back.” He turned, hurrying off without a word.
Aqulla stared until she couldn’t see him anymore. Don’t panic? Was he stupid? She felt like doing more than that. “What kind of answer was, ‘I’m not sure’? How can you not be sure why you are helping someone?” Aqulla muttered to herself.
Slipping on Uni’s regulation shirt, Aqulla went out and bought the books she wanted, but reading them had become impossible. Her mind was a jumbled mess of tangled thoughts.
Jaylon didn’t come back as he’d said, so Aqulla decided to seek him out instead. She’d acquired the art of moving unseen as a child. The predator in her found it very useful. On the first day, she’d watched each Climintra building in Main City until she’d discovered which one he worked from. Echoes reached out to her during her surveillance, and keeping them from her mind took effort, so her mission to find Jaylon took her longer than she would have liked because she had to work in short stints. It didn’t help that two doors down from her apartment lived a serial killer. The reality was there was nowhere in the Complex that was truly quiet, and it was taking its toll.
The night before she’d awoken outside her apartment and at his door. She didn’t dare think what would have happened if someone had walked past and disturbed her from her sleepwalk.
Two weeks in and Aqulla had learned his schedule, only for it to suddenly change. On an off chance, she caught him leaving Climintra North late in the evening. She’d gone out for takeout and decided to head back past the building. Keeping to the shadows, Aqulla followed him. When he reached the point where most normally took public transport, he carried on walking. Eventually, he headed into the Forest Zone. She lost him in the mass of tropical trees. It was hot and humid, the air heavy a
gainst her skin. Pausing, Aqulla turned in a slow circle, searching through the jungle for any sign of him. She saw him too late. His hand closed over her mouth, his other arm dragging her back against his chest. Her takeout tumbled to the ground, and although she shifted, Aqulla didn’t struggle as his mouth brushed her ear and his voice whispered roughly, “Why are you following me?”
Aqulla stifled the moan that wanted to escape at their contact. A shiver ran down her spine, pooling between her thighs.
“You never came back,” she whispered.
“So you thought it was a good idea to stalk me?”
“I haven’t—”
“You have, Aqulla,” he interrupted, his voice soft in her ear.
Her body reacted but not in the way she would have liked. Skin feeling suddenly hot and not from the jungle air, Aqulla’s nipples tightened beneath her clothes. With effort, she tried to keep the sudden desire flooding her from her voice. “I’ve had a little time on my hands.”
Jaylon let her go. “Well, I haven’t. Stop following me. Someone will notice.”
Turning, Aqulla faced him. If he knew the effect he had on her, he didn’t show it. “But won’t someone notice if I'm unemployed?”
“No, I’m taking care of it. I’ll find you something. I’ve just been busy.”
“Your schedule changed, why?”
“I can’t tell you that, Aqulla.”
“You can trust me.”
“Can I?” His lips twitched, turning up ever so slightly.
“Yes.” Aqulla couldn’t drag her gaze from his eyes. So blue, so deep, she wanted to get lost in them.
“Tell me why you are different, and I might.”
Aqulla stepped back, the feelings she’d felt gone. The cunning predator in her surfaced. “Get rid of the guy two doors to my right and I might.” Bending to pick up her takeout, she smiled and took another step back.
“Why?”
“He’s too loud.” Aqulla turned, sprinting in the opposite direction. He attempted to follow her but he was human, and no matter how talented a human he was, when Aqulla was trying, she’d outmatch him every time.
Jaylon gave up trying to find her. He wasn’t sure why he was even trying. Because you want to kiss her, the unruly voice in his head suggested. “No, I don’t,” he spoke aloud. “Damn it,” he cursed. Now I’m having conversations with myself.
He needed to stay away from Aqulla. She was dangerous, and it had nothing to do with her being Meta, and everything to do with the feelings she stirred in his pants. Still, that night instead of going over the information on the most recent murder-suicide to hit the Complex, Jaylon brought up the file on the man Aqulla had asked him to get rid of. The man was human, and a serial killer. For reasons Jaylon didn’t understand, he filed for him to be moved to another apartment. As luck would have it, a few had recently become available. Pouring himself another coffee, Jaylon swiped his reader and brought up the files he should have been looking at. If he didn’t solve the murders soon, Intra wouldn’t be able to keep them under wraps, and Ama Seldova wouldn’t be very happy about that. The Complex needed to work. Humans and Metas needed to get along. They couldn’t be killing each other.
“Couldn’t the inhabitants have waited at least half a year?” he muttered, sipping his coffee. Sighing, Jaylon put down his mug. It’s going to be a long night.
There was a commotion outside her apartment a few days later, going to investigate, Aqulla found the serial killer from a few doors down protesting about his move.
“But I don’t want to move to Desert. It’s too fucking hot there.”
Smiling, Aqulla went back inside and closed her door. She burst out laughing. “Well, I’ll be damned. Jaylon came through. Looks like I’m going to have to give up some information.”
Aqulla wasn’t expecting to see Jaylon so soon after their previous conversation. She was sure he wanted to know why she was different, but he’d also said he was busy.
She hesitated because she had on a contraband dress. Jersey in material, it had rolled up small enough to be smuggled in. It wasn’t anything fancy. She’d liked it for comfort more than anything. Aqulla had barely opened the door when Jaylon’s exasperated voice filtered through. Jaylon looked her up and down. Aqulla suddenly felt as if she was in a skimpy number. Sure, it had a split to the knee and a deep V in the front, showing just a hint of cleavage, but it was by far the most casual of clothing she’d normally wear.
Clearing her throat, Aqulla asked, “Can I help you, Jaylon?”
His gaze snapped to her face, expression going blank, “I… erm…. That’s not standard issue.”
“Then arrest me,” she answered with a smile.
Aqulla was certain his lips twitched as his eyes lingered on her mouth a moment too long.
“Can I come in?”
“Sure.” Aqulla stood to the side, opening the door wider, then closed it behind him, blocking his exit.
As Intra soldier, Jaylon should have noted she’d blocked his exit, but he wasn’t looking at the door. He was observing her room. When he noticed the drawing she’d been sketching on the wall, he glanced at her, his eyes alight, then went for a closer inspection.
Aqulla fidgeted with unease. Jaylon had been nothing but nice to her since she’d entered the community. She was even beginning to regard their strange relationship as a friendship. But he was Intra. Put there to enforce the rules, Intra didn’t often enter a personal space. They patrolled the public areas. So many of the Complex’s occupants had smuggled in some kind of forbidden object; she wasn’t the only one. And she hardly saw her clothing as breaking the law. What harm could a few clothes bring?
“There’re paper and pencils over in the commerce center, you know,” he said as he straightened up and faced her.
“I know, but they wouldn’t allow me to bring it back here.”
“There’s a reason for that,” he remarked.
“Who’s going to use a pencil for a weapon?” Aqulla scoffed.
His eyebrow rose and the corner of his mouth lifted.
“All right, I could use a pencil as a weapon. But, that wasn’t what I wanted it for.”
“What’s wrong with commerce?”
“It’s too loud.”
“I heard that’s going around.”
Aqulla debated whether to explain further. He’d not outright asked why she was different, but still, he’d come through and moved her neighbor. A deal was a deal, and for reasons Aqulla couldn’t explain, no matter the amount of time she spent thinking them over, she trusted him.
“The noise is in here,” she answered softly, tapping her temple. “It’s everywhere. During the day I get a little peace in my quarters because most of the inmates are out in the open.”
“You hear voices in your head?” His expression gave nothing away.
“I hear and feel death.”
Frowning, Jaylon took a step closer, “Explain it so I can understand.”
“It’s like echoes of death, a leftover residue. Sometimes it’s a simple whisper of what the victim wished they’d finished, but if their death was violent, I can feel their last moments, hear their screams, feel their need for vengeance. The more traumatic the death, the louder the echo.”
“And you have no way of blocking them out?”
“Sometimes it takes everything I’ve got to not give in to their needs and slit the murderer’s throat.”
If he was shocked by her admission, Jaylon didn’t let on. Instead, he took another step closer, his look intent, transfixed even. “How do you function with that burden? What makes you so different?” he murmured.
Burden. It was the first time she’d ever heard anyone but herself call her gifts a burden. It made her want to close the last remaining space between them. It made her want to give in to the desire she’d not acknowledged since her arrival. But first she’d have to reveal her secret, the one only she and her grandmother knew. Yet to speak the truth was to endanger her life.
; “I’m different. I’m a sensitive.”
“A sensitive?”
“I feel death ten times over. The urge to deliver vengeance is like a pulse through my blood.”
“How many of you are there?”
“One.”
His forehead scrunched together.
“My kind culls sensitives before they can reach adulthood. We’re considered a threat. Killing for mere profit is not in our blood.”
“Then how are you alive?”
“I developed late. By the time I knew, I had enough cunning to hide it. Well, until that day.”
“How old?”
“Twelve.”
Reaching up a hand, Jaylon hesitantly ran a finger across her cheek, “So young,” he whispered.
The touch sent arcs of pleasure down her spine, and suddenly Aqulla wasn’t resisting death’s call but desire’s. The air between them heated. Aqulla’s chest rose with each breath and Jaylon’s gaze wandered down.
“How do you survive?” he asked her quietly.
“I look for the beauty. If you look hard enough, even the bleakest places have a bright spot.”
Locking his gaze with hers, Jaylon asked, “The drawing is your bright spot?”
“Amongst other things,” she whispered, leaning forward, eyes flickering to his lips.
Jaylon had lost control. How was he to resist when she looked at him that way? Her stormy eyes aglow with lust, her breasts rising up, enticing him with each breath. Sliding her tongue out, Aqulla wet her bottom lip as she let out the tiniest of sighs. He lost it. Closing the space between them, Jaylon wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and brought her lips to his. They were soft, but her kiss was anything but. Bringing her arms around him, she walked him backward until he met the wall. She kissed him with a need he’d never experienced before. Her nails, like tiny claws digging into his skin, flexed as if trying to bring him closer. The noise she made in the back of her throat caused his groin to instantly harden. He wanted her, would have had her if she hadn’t pulled back with a cry, her hands gripping her skull.
Death's Echo (The Complex Book 0) Page 3