Death's Echo (The Complex Book 0)

by Rachel M Raithby

  “I want to see him,” she said eventually to Jaylon, who sat across from her. There were two other Intra in the room, Melton Hale, a small slight man, and Elizabeth Jaz a large, almost butch-looking woman. They looked up from their work as she spoke.

  “You’ve already seen him,” Jaylon responded, but Aqulla knew what he really wanted to say, ‘no more echoes.’

  “I saw him with the others. Together they overwhelm me. If I can see him alone, I might get something.”

  “Why him?” asked Elizabeth.

  “I’ve…” Her gaze met Jaylon’s stern look. So you told no one of my altercation, even at the start. “I’ve seen him around the Complex. He doesn’t fit the suicide.”

  “We could move the others to another room temporally,” suggested Melton.

  “Excellent idea, Melton. You and Jaz go ahead and organize that,” Jaylon said.

  Thirty minutes later, Aqulla found herself alone with Jaylon, his silence an indication of his anger.

  “I don’t know why you are mad at me. I’m doing the job I’ve been hired to do.”

  “Aqulla, not that long ago I literally had to kiss life back into you, and now you wish to repeat the process that had me needing to do that,” he hissed quietly.

  “That was different. I’d opened myself up wide to any passing echo. And besides, you didn’t mind kissing me.”

  “Beside the point,” he grumbled.

  “You didn’t tell anyone about me spilling his blood?”

  “It was hardly spilling, Aqulla. Plus he deserved it, should have kept his hands to himself.”

  “Still, there are only a few rules here: no fighting, no killing.”

  “You weren’t inside the Complex at the time so it doesn’t count.”

  Aqulla smiled. “Good point. I wish I had thought of that at the time. I’d have dug my claws a little deeper.”

  “Remind me never to piss you off.”

  Aqulla paused beside the body she was about to touch. His echo was already pushing at her mind, but she blocked it and clung to a conversation that kept her in the here and now, away from death.

  “Jay,” she whispered roughly, “your punishment would be so much sweeter.”

  “Aqulla.”

  Casting a wicked smile over her shoulder, Aqulla blew him a kiss. Then she pressed her hands to the victim’s chest. Sucking in a breath, she was pulled in by the dead.

  Darkness, so much darkness. She felt his hands wrapping around the victim’s neck. He didn’t take much persuading, killing came naturally. Then she was swallowed by a wave of hate. Her knees buckled but someone was keeping her upright.

  A finger on the trigger, it trembled, resisted. Rage, it grew inside of him, pressing against his skull. He screamed, yelled his outrage, but no sound was heard. His finger began to obey, the ligaments bending.

  “Aqulla, Aqulla, pull back.”

  Jay…

  “Enough, Aqulla,” Jaylon demanded. “Enough!”

  Forcing her mind closed, Aqulla opened her eyes. “So much anger,” she gasped between breaths. “He was full of it, dark, dark anger.”

  “At himself?”

  “No.” Aqulla met Jaylon’s gaze. “At… it.”

  “It?”

  “Yes, not him, or she, it.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’m not sure. But I do know he didn’t want to pull the trigger. He resisted with everything he had.”

  “So someone forced him to kill himself?”

  “Yes, someone or something.”

  Jaylon didn’t get a chance to question her further. His com rang, and seconds later, Melton appeared as a hologram. “There’s been another set of murders, same as before. Only this time it’s out in the open, and there was a witness.”

  “Where?”

  “Desert Zone, about four miles from housing.”

  “We’re on our way. Grab Jaz and meet us there.” Ending the com, Jaylon turned to Aqulla. “Will you be all right? I can drop you off at your apartment if you’re drained?”

  “I’ll be okay. You pulled me out before I got into trouble.”

  “Come on then.”

  Aqulla had lied. She was more than just a little drained, she was a lot, but she wasn’t going to be weak and be left behind. If Ama Seldova was really watching her, as Jaylon’s boss had suggested, then there’d be no cracks in her armor. On the outside, she’d be steel, appearing strong, a skill she’d acquired young, keeping what she felt hidden a necessity to survival.

  “Are you falling asleep?” Jaylon’s voice carried on the wind as they sped across the Desert Zone, the landscape dry and arid, a wasteland, fitting for death.

  “No,” she lied. Her arms were wrapped around his middle, far tighter than they should be, her chest and face up against his back.

  “As much as I love you clinging onto me, no one can see us like this.”

  “I know,” she said back. Opening her eyes, she drew in a deep breath, then unraveled her arms until only her hands touched his waist, and there was nothing but air between them.

  Sadness seemed to settle over them, but soon the scene appeared in the distance, and neither Jaylon nor Aqulla had the luxury of wallowing in emotion. They had a murderer to stop, one who’d decided it was time to air their sick pleasure in public.

  The bodies were a short distance off the track that many used to get from the Main City to Desert Housing, and quite a few of the residents had gathered around. The first thing Jaylon did as they climbed from the flyer was call for more Intra.

  “Try and keep these scavengers back. The last thing we need is the scene compromised,” he ordered.

  There were too many eyes on her. She felt each set boring into her back. Her gray uniform stuck out against the Intra’s black. Following Jaylon, Aqulla tried to focus on him alone, his strong presence, his authoritative nature, and the way he moved and interacted like he belonged.

  The murders had taken on a darker nature this time. The apparent murder-suicide was human, and he’d killed a small female changeling. She was face down with several knife wounds in her back. Around her, blood splattered stark on the dry desert sand. Her hair was tangled as if the human had grabbed it as he’d attacked.

  The human had more wounds than the single one—a knife through his neck—used to kill himself. The changeling hadn’t gone quietly, though. She’d clawed at him and ripped his clothing, but in the end, it hadn’t been enough.

  Chaos reigned in Aqulla’s mind. The echoes were violent, so potent in their need for revenge that she had to stop a good few feet from the bodies.

  “Aqulla?” Jaylon said quietly, coming back to her side when he’d realized she’d stopped.

  “Go, do your job. If I get too close, I’m going to make a scene.”

  “I can get someone to take you back. I won’t risk your health.”

  She met his gaze. “I can handle it, Jaylon. I’m not weak.”

  “No, you’re strong. The strongest person I know.”

  He left her with that statement, her mind reeling at his image of her. Strong. No one had ever seen her as such—dangerous, a threat, but strong? She didn’t even view herself that way. Watching the Intra work, Aqulla studied the crowd, most of her concentration on not allowing the victims’ echoes to take her fully. More Intra had arrived shortly after her and created a barricade to keep the crowd back. She’d expected to see fear in the crowds faces. Even if it hadn’t been announced, rumors had circulated of the murders, and many whispered of the banshee’s death call. Yet she saw twisted interest, excitement even. She couldn’t sense the living’s emotions, but Aqulla was intuitive. It came from a lifetime of sticking to the shadows, of observing and not standing out. She’d made herself invisible from a young age, made sure to never succeed at anything that would gain attention, nor did she fail. Aqulla had coasted through the middle her entire life, even before she’d realized why she was different from others.

  “Do you sense anything?”

&n
bsp; Aqulla drew her attention from the crowd and studied Melton. She couldn’t find any intent other than genuinely wanting to know, so she answered with the truth.

  “I’m drained from reading Darius, so I’ve not opened up to them fully, but I feel anger, blood-boiling anger. That’s what I got from Darius too. I believe he was forced to kill himself.”

  “What’s it like? Do they speak to you?”

  “No, not like you’re thinking. I don’t see their ghosts or anything. It’s like I pick up their last moments, their emotions, sometimes thoughts, and always vengeance. The dead always want someone to pay.”

  “I can’t decide whether you’re gifted or cursed.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  Jaylon looked up and met her gaze, tipping his head for her to join him. “If you’ll excuse me,” Aqulla said to Melton as she parted ways.

  Jaylon had walked a few paces from the bodies. “Everything all right? What did Melton want?”

  She smiled. “Just curious. Don’t get all alpha male on me, Jaylon.”

  He responded with a growling noise in the back of his throat and gritted his teeth. “I’m having the victims moved to separate rooms for you to read. It can wait until tomorrow if you’re not up to it.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Aqulla.”

  “You’ll pull me back.”

  He nodded grimly. “I’ll make sure we’re alone.”

  Jaylon headed back with the bodies, which meant Aqulla took a flyer with Melton. He didn’t say much to her other than pleasantries, and she was fine with that. Her mind was elsewhere, mostly on steeling herself for the task ahead. He left her alone in a small office at Climintra North, informing her Jaylon would be along soon.

  She’d not been sat long when the lights began to flicker, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Standing, Aqulla shifted, her claws sliding free and canines growing sharp. The lights flickered a few more times than went out, plunging her into darkness.

  Her breathing picked up as she searched the darkness, her whole body braced to attack. There was someone near. She could sense them in the room with her, feel their chilling presence lingering in the air. Taking slow, careful steps, Aqulla walked by memory toward the door. Halfway, something brushed against her. She hissed, baring her teeth and swiped out with her claws. Finding nothing, Aqulla whirled the other way, slicing through the air, but again found nothing. Her breathing became rapid. Panicked, her heart boomed a beat through her skull. She stepped backward, keeping her hands curled for attack and met the wall. Keeping it at her back, Aqulla walked along finding the door. With one hand, she grasped the knob as someone opened it from the other side.

  Lunging forwards, a snarl on her breath, Aqulla closed her hand around the throat of the intruder and slammed them against the wall.

  “Aqulla,” they rasped. “It’s me.”

  The lights came back on as realization dawned. Removing her hand, Aqulla jumped back. “Oh God, Jay, I’m so sorry.”

  She ran her hand over her face, feeling dampness touch her skin. Pulling her hand away, she stared at the red smeared on her pale skin. Her head snapped up to meet Jaylon’s. His hand was on his neck pressing the cuts she’d made with her claws.

  “I cut you,” she whispered, horrified.

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s a scratch.”

  “It does matter,” she responded, her voice taking on a high pitch.

  “You were frightened, the dark, you—”

  “No,” she interrupted. “Someone was in here.” Aqulla whipped around, frantically searching the room. “Someone was here,” she repeated.

  “It was the dark playing tricks on you.”

  “No.” Aqulla strode the few spaces between them. “There was someone in here. I felt them.”

  “As in an echo?”

  “Yes, but different…. I don’t… I can’t describe it, but they were here. I know it. Tell me you believe me.”

  “I believe you.”

  Aqulla searched his blue eyes. “Do you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.” She pulled in a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She pulled away his hand covering his throat. “Let me see. I really need to control myself. I’m going to get myself kicked out of here if I’m not careful.”

  “Not going to happen, and,” he lowered his voice, “I quite like it when you lose control.”

  “Stop it,” she said, slapping his chest, but it got the desired effect, and she smiled. “Go get cleaned up. Then we’ll go see the bodies.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to leave it until tomorrow?”

  “No. I want to solve this case and move on.”

  She’d regretted her choice before she’d made it into the room. The echo was strong, and she was drained, not by just the previous reading, but by the day itself. Aqulla was rattled, and she had a feeling there was something she was missing, something she knew that she couldn’t quite grasp. It would only take one word to Jaylon, and he’d call the whole thing off, but not only was she concerned Ama Seldova was watching, but she also didn't want anyone to notice Jaylon giving her special treatment.

  Seeing the changeling female first, Aqulla had no need to touch her. Hate radiated off her, the same dark, twisted emotion she’d felt on the others. Except her feelings were to be expected. She’d been murdered in cold blood. Her last moments were ones of shock and pain, and a rebellious will to never go down without a fight. And she had. The human male who’d killed her had several wounds, including broken ribs. Aqulla felt everything she had experienced as if it were her own life. Walking from the room took effort, and if they hadn’t been in Climintra, she’d have probably collapsed into Jaylon’s arms. But they were, and Intra Melton Hale and Intra Elizabeth Jaz were standing nearby in hopes of some new information.

  It felt like walking through sludge from one room to the next. Her limbs were weighted down, the air heavy and hard to breathe. Jaylon was beside her, ready to catch her if she fell, but she wouldn’t fall. Never show weakness. It was the one piece of solid advice her grandmother had given her.

  The door closed her and Jaylon into the second room. There were no windows, and Melton and Elizabeth had waited outside. Aqulla reached for Jaylon, clasping his hand as if he were a lifeline.

  “You’re too drained for this.”

  “I’m here now,” was her only answer before placing her hand on the body.

  She sucked in a startled breath as it hit her mind like a physical slap. He was different to the others—the first human she’d read and the first in the series of murders.

  “Shadows,” she whispered. “He sees shadows.”

  With the others Aqulla had struggled to sort through the angry emotions. They’d seemed to cloud anything else, and while this human male’s echo still had the same sense of corruption, she got more from him than the others.

  “He didn’t fight it. He accepted his fate, and it liked it,” she said, turning to Jaylon.

  “Who? Aqulla, who liked it?”

  “I—” She stumbled as her vision swayed.

  “Aqulla?”

  “Bed, I need my bed,” she mumbled.

  She didn’t protest or care what anyone thought when Jaylon wrapped his arm under her and supported her weight. He helped her out the room and got her past Melton and Elizabeth. The journey to her apartment was a blur. The last of her energy used to make one leg go in front of the other and air to expand her lungs.

  Her last words when her head hit the pillow was a quiet, desperate wish. “Don’t leave me.”

  Jaylon didn’t leave her but he was too keyed up to sit idle. He had the evidence they’d gathered so far delivered to Aqulla’s room. Jaylon was waiting outside of Aqulla’s door when Melton arrived.

  “She all right?” he asked as he passed over the electronic files.

  “Yes, she wants to work but is too drained from the reading to be out in public.”

  “I see.�
� Melton said nothing more. With a slight incline of his head, he walked away, and Jaylon slipped back inside.

  Pulling up a chair next to her bed, he began to go over everything they knew.

  He didn’t fight it…. And it liked it…. Her words swarm around in his head. It was the way she said it that really bothered Jaylon, as if the murderer was neither Human nor Meta but an entity all of its own. If they were right, if something was controlling these people to kill and then end their own lives, they had to be powerful. They’d controlled Metas, beings who were known to be notoriously strong, and then there was the Humans’ chip. A device supposed to stop mind control, a device that was supposed to make living with Metas safe.

  Aqulla shot upright in bed. Jaylon jumped, his heart lurching into his throat.

  “What’s wrong?” he gasped, reaching for her.

  “I’ve felt it before,” she whispered hauntingly.

  “The echo?”

  “No, the presence in the room with me.”

  It took Jaylon a moment to work out her meaning. “When the lights went out?”

  “When it made the lights go out.”

  Her gaze was strong, daring him to question her.

  “Okay… well, when did you feel it before?”

  “When I was a child, I was only maybe three. That’s why I didn’t automatically remember. But I remembered in my sleep, the memory of its presence. My mother, she never stood still. We didn’t live in one place, we lived in many. It was the middle of the night. I remember her bundling me up still half asleep and fleeing the town.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not sure exactly. I was too little to question it, but I remember feeling scared and not from running but from… shadows. The shadows felt the same.”

  Jaylon frowned. He couldn’t make much sense of what she was saying. Shadows didn’t have a feeling. They were just shadows.

  “You don’t believe me,” Aqulla accused, her arms crossing angrily.