Eternity's War (Books 1-3) (Eternity's War Boxsets)

by Ruben Stelliswolfe

  Ren let out a long sigh and buried her head in her hands. “Neither do I. But we can't assign the mission to the other three alone. We both know they've got their own priorities. Sierra will be chasing Tahlia, and Tango and Echo will be chasing the Tianzu.”

  “Could we leave it to Nikolai?” he suggested. “Black Dawn is more than enough to stop Archie. Nikolai wants him dead more than we do.”

  Ren briefly considered the proposal before dismissing it. “What if something happens? We can't risk Archie escaping the tower. I wouldn't put it past Nikolai to let him leave just so they can hunt him for sport.”

  Skye shook his head, exasperated. “I don't know what to do. I don't know what's right,” he admitted.

  “Nothing's right anymore.” Ren placed a reassuring hand on Skye's shoulder. “But one thing I do know is that Tango had a point earlier—White Shadow is falling apart.”

  “It doesn't have to. We can fix this. But it's impossible to do so when we can't function as a team.”

  The two sat in silence, gazing around the vacant warehouse. Their group was once strong and prosperous, but what used to be small rifts had now grown into large fractures, threatening to split them all apart.

  “I miss the old days,” Ren said. “They were simpler times.”

  “They were. Less exciting though.”

  Ren raised an eyebrow. “Exciting?”

  Skye quickly corrected his mistake. “Sorry—wrong choice of word.”

  Ren continued staring at him, her face one of suspicion. “I take it you're glad you weren't part of the original White Shadow back in Novabourne?”

  Skye tried to hide his smirk, but doing so seemed impossible. He knew that Ren had seen straight through him. “Hunting petty criminals doesn't sound overly appealing.”

  “Well what does? Hunting other shengxian? You and Nikolai sure seemed eager to join us when I first moved here.”

  He didn't respond. He instead turned away and resumed looking about the empty room. “I don't think we have a choice tonight,” Skye said, changing the subject. “I'll have to take Juliet and Roman with me.”

  Ren nodded slowly. “Keep them safe, but remember that our priority is killing Archie.”

  Skye shot her a perplexed glance. “You say that as though Juliet and Roman are expendable.”

  Ren looked behind her to ensure that no one was within earshot before speaking. “If it means putting a stop to Archie, then yes, they're expendable,” she whispered. “But Roman is especially expendable. I want Juliet alive while Delta's gone.”

  He stared at her momentarily, taken aback by her words. “What do you mean that Roman is expendable?”

  “I mean that his protection is not a priority. If you have the opportunity to kill Archie at the expense of Roman's protection, then I expect you to take it. It was only by chance that you even managed to save his life earlier today.”

  Skye's eyes widened. His face contorted with bewildered rage upon hearing the callous remark. “Please tell me you're not serious.”

  “Of course I am!” she hissed back. “The president has to be stopped, Skye. You said it yourself—you want him dead today. If it means making sacrifices, then so be it.”

  Skye stared at her blankly, uncertain if his ears were deceiving him. Ren had always been a stern, yet caring individual. In the past, she would not have spoken so bluntly. But her obsession with finding and killing Archibald Denning has had a profound and devastating effect on her.

  “Ren,” he began, “if you truly believe that, then you're not fit to lead this group. If you're willing to sacrifice anyone for that goal, then you're as sadistic and twisted as Nikolai.”

  “Don't ever compare me to him!” she scowled, rising from her desk and pressing her face against his. “I have absolutely nothing in common with him. And I only said I'd be willing to sacrifice them for the greater good, so don't assume that I actually want them dead. I'm not a monster, Skye. You said yourself that you don't know what's right anymore.”

  He walked away from the conversation, not willing to reason with her any further. She seemed to lack his morals, but something told Skye that there was perhaps some truth to the words.

  “If anything,” she continued, calling after him, “you're the one who's as twisted as Nikolai.”

  Skye stopped and spun around, his jaw slack. “Excuse me?”

  “You just admitted that this lifestyle is exciting for you. A lifestyle with the 'thrill' of being hunted by Black Dawn, yet with Nikolai's promise of immunity. It sounds like you're playing right into Nikolai's hand—you're playing the game with him.”

  Skye clenched his fists, unable to listen any longer. “That's not at all what I meant,” he muttered.

  He retreated to his quarters and lay on the bed, his mind locked in an eternal debate regarding what is right and just. Is Ren right, he thought to himself. Is my judgement clouded because Nikolai will never harm me? Am I enjoying this lifestyle too much to make a rational and responsible decision regarding the well-being of Juliet and Roman?

  He stared blankly at the wall next to him and traced his finger along the chipped paint.

  No, he thought. I'd never endanger anyone for my own enjoyment. That's what separates me from Nikolai.

  But could the deaths of the others be justified if it meant saving this country from a ruthless regime? Or is there another way to peacefully accomplish both? Or, worse still, are the deaths of Juliet and Roman at the hands of Black Dawn a horrendous inevitability? And, if so, is it meaningless to worry about and ponder such an eventuality?

  Skye closed his eyes and tried to push the thoughts out of his mind. Regardless of the unforeseeable outcome, the only certainty was that the impending mission was just as perilous as it was imperative.

  Out the back stood Tango and Echo, conversing in hushed tones.

  “We need to find the Tianzu,” Tango said.

  “Agreed. Tonight is our best opportunity.”

  “I suggest we go along with the objective of finding the president, but as soon as we see one of those three, we go after them immediately.”

  “Four,” Echo corrected. “Don't forget that man in Shangwu earlier. But maybe we should focus on just one,” he suggested. “The four of them combined might be too much for just the two of us. If we get one, we might be able to retrieve information from them.”

  Tango peered up the side of the warehouse, seeing Juliet perched on the small balcony. She was out of range of their conversation, but he could clearly see the worry and fear on her face.

  “We should keep an eye on her tonight,” Tango said, concerned for the youngster's safety. Although he and Echo had an objective of their own, they were still a team, and still cared for their friends.

  “She must be terrified.”

  “And rightfully so. She has seen what the others can do.” His mind trailed back to the devastating day when White Shadow and Black Dawn fought ferociously before the Tianzu intervened. It was remarkable that Foxtrot was the only casualty.

  “Just leave Tahlia to me,” Sierra warned, sitting atop the roof of the building. Tango snapped his head up when he heard the words. He realised that she had heard their conversation, the sound of their voices travelling in the wind.

  Tango stared at the strange woman. Since her arrival four months earlier, he had never once considered her to be an ally. The woman was too fixated on her vendetta, far more so than he was on his own. She lacked all amicable traits, he thought, and he often wondered why Ren and Skye continually allowed her to remain a part of the group. She may be powerful, but her incessant infatuation with murdering Tahlia meant she was hardly of any benefit to them.

  “Don't threaten me,” he spat. “You were asking for our help a few hours ago.”

  “You're welcome to help find her, but don't kill her.”

  “Tell me why you want her dead,” he called up. “Then I might agree to help you.”

  She said nothing.

  Tango rolled his eyes at the
cryptic woman. “Fine,” he agreed. “You have your priorities, and we have ours. You just make sure you leave at least one of the Tianzu for us to interrogate,” he cautioned.

  She glared down at them with cold eyes, again saying nothing.

  Nineteen

  Tahlia stared at herself in the mirror, frowning at the scar on her arm. Her unique ability to heal herself and others so quickly had proven to be beneficial. Such a wound could be fatal to the non-elite.

  “Too close,” Tahlia sighed to herself.

  “I can barely notice,” Night observed as he entered the room, trying to sound helpful.

  “Thanks for knocking,” she said sarcastically. “Look at my arm. I can't believe I let my guard down.”

  “Well, you've done a good job of healing it.”

  “I don't care about how it looks—I could've been killed!”

  “You are lucky to be alive,” the peculiar man agreed. He saw the bloodstained bolt on the sink. He picked it up and examined how sharp the deadly projectile was. “Death is a prospect that all of us must face in our profession.”

  Tahlia raised her eyebrow at Night's vain attempt to sound wise. “That's easy for you to say. She's never gotten that close before. Usually I sense her from over a kilometre away. She must be getting stronger and faster,” Tahlia admitted, trying to come to terms with the near-death experience she just had with Sierra. It was another reminder for the woman in black that she would spend the remainder of her life looking over her shoulder, at least until her relentless foe was killed. Nikolai's promise that he would eliminate Sierra for her was proving to be even more of a farce with each day that passed. “Or maybe I just lost focus for a moment.”

  “Don't worry too much about it. If she had killed you, it wouldn't have necessarily meant the end of your life,” Night joked.

  Tahlia stared at him, disgusted by the thought of being controlled as though she was a marionette. “If I die,” she warned, “don't ever bring me back. I don't want to be one of your ... things.”

  He grinned slyly at her as he left the room. He slowly walked back into the lounge of the suite and sat on Nikolai's velvet chaise. The room, much like the rest of the villa, was comprised of an oddly diverse assortment of furnishings which spanned numerous eras and cultures. Nikolai's residence was indeed an eclectic one, encompassing no sense of uniformity whatsoever.

  Gazing out of the large window, which spanned the length and height of the room, Night watched the sunlight glisten against the ocean below. “Do you prefer the view here or back in West Tower?” he asked his comrade, passing the time. Nikolai's most frequently given order was usually to sit and await further instruction. Seldom did he divulge the finer details of his obscure plans.

  Tahlia smiled to herself at Night's antics. She felt closest to him of anyone in Black Dawn—he was simple and easy to get along with, unlike Sabina and Aurelius, who rarely ever said a word. “Both,” was her response. “I like the city, but I also like the ocean.” Most of their time was spent inside the villa, but Nikolai had often ordered them to spend time in either West Tower or his bunker, both of which had become very recent acquisitions.

  She walked away from the bathroom, no longer wanting to be reminded of the day's events. She sat on the long couch opposite Night and allowed herself to relax. “You shouldn't lie on this,” she cautioned. “You're dirty. Nikolai won't be happy.”

  Night's crooked grin reappeared. “I don't think he'll mind. And even if he did, there isn't much he could do about it.”

  Tahlia smiled, knowing that he was right. Night's defiant attitude toward Nikolai always pleased her, although she tried not to show it while their leader was present. She sunk deeper into the chaise and stretched her arms outwards. “Comfortable?” she asked.

  Night shot her an odd glance. “I imagine so.”

  “Night!” a booming voice shouted from behind. He turned around and saw Nikolai standing in the doorway. “One of those things is out in the hallway. I told you not to bring them back to my villa!”

  Night laughed at the strange complaint. Nikolai acted like a great and powerful man, he thought, but he also acted like a spoilt child. “It means no harm.”

  “I don't care!” his senior retorted. “It stinks! Get rid of it! I can't have anyone working for the president see it. How could I possibly explain what it is? Furthermore, don't lie on my chaise. Do you have any idea how much it cost?”

  Night looked to Tahlia, who tried to hide her grin. “Quite a bit?”

  Nikolai nodded. “Yes. A lot. The chaise cost me more than it did bringing you to Athenia.”

  “My presence is worth it,” Night joked.

  “Is it? You've hardly contributed anything at all. At this stage you've been nothing more than a needless expense.”

  “I thought money wasn't a problem for you.”

  Tahlia cupped her hand over her mouth, once again trying to suppress her amusement.

  “It isn't,” Nikolai said through gritted teeth. “But that's not the point. Now, get rid of that thing, please.”

  Night frowned, feeling as though no one had any respect for his unique craft. He got up and hobbled out into the hallway.

  Standing nearby was a rotting corpse with dull eyes. It stood lifeless, but firm. Its skin was brown with decay, filling the hall with an unimaginably repulsive odour. Its clothes were dirty and torn to shreds.

  “Don't listen to him,” Night said, striding over until he was face-to-face with the dead creature. “I think you're beautiful; a work of art!”

  He turned and started retreating down the hall, away from the suite. The body slowly crept after him obediently, dropping decomposed skin onto the silk carpet with each step.

  Twenty

  Roman sat patiently at the table in White Shadow's base. He began to feel a little calmer after his short nap, but now more confused than ever. Skye sat opposite at the table and had already begun to bring him up to speed on the current situation and the problems they all faced.

  “I don't want to go back out to the city,” the young man admitted, fear in his voice. “I just want to go home.”

  “I know,” Skye acknowledged with a smile, doing his absolute best to reassure him. “But it's not safe there for you. Nikolai will come for you anywhere. The safest place is with me.”

  Roman groaned, his mind starting to become numb and delirious. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath.

  “It is,” Skye agreed. His strategy was to try and befriend Roman so that he felt somewhat safe and comfortable. It would be the best way to ease him into the new lifestyle. “We live strange lives here, and sometimes I question why we're even doing this.”

  “Then why are you?” the curious boy asked. “Why can't you and Nikolai just leave each other alone?”

  “It's not that easy,” Skye laughed. “Nikolai and White Shadow are caught in an endless game of cat and mouse. And to be honest, I don't see it ending any time soon. Or ever, for that matter.”

  “Can't you just kill him? I'm against murder, but if he's such a bad person, and if your lives are at risk, just kill him and be done with it.”

  The suggestion was one that Skye had heard from both Sierra and Juliet in the past, but he still did not quite know how to respond to it. He paused and thought about which words to use. “We can't,” he finally said. “We can't kill him.”

  The strange statement baffled Roman. “Nikolai said that earlier back in Shangwu. You can't, or won't?”

  “Can't,” Skye said. “Believe me, we want him dead. It would make our lives so much easier. But to put it quite simply, he can't be killed.”

  Roman raised an eyebrow and started laughing at the incomprehensible notion. “So nothing can stop him?”

  “That's right.”

  “You can't use your sword, or shoot him?”

  Skye paused again. The conversation was far from easy for anyone to grasp. “Yes, physically he can be killed. He's still human, like all of us. But we can't ge
t close enough to him. He possesses a powerful type of telepathy in which he knows when an attack is imminent. He can read your intent.”

  Roman sat and pondered the explanation. “So you're saying that if you tried to kill him, he would know?”

  “Correct. And he would evade the attack with ease.”

  “But how?” Roman asked. “He doesn't even have eyes.”

  “Well, he can sense,” Skye explained. “He senses everything around him. He doesn't even need eyes.” He smiled inwardly, mindful of how ludicrous the concept must sound to the newcomer. “And, to be honest, he can actually see better than any of us, even without eyes. Well, that's what he claims anyway.”

  Roman glanced at him speculatively, unsure of what to make of the peculiar revelation. It only further fuelled his growing level of overwhelming bewilderment.

  “As Nikolai puts it,” Skye continued, noticing the bemused expression upon his junior's face, “it's the mind that sees; not the eyes.”

  Roman stared blankly at Skye, allowing himself enough time to process what he was hearing. “So he can somehow see, even without eyes. And you can't attack without him knowing. Is that why you didn't attempt to stop him earlier in the city?”

  “That's right. We've given up, more or less,” Skye admitted.

  Roman frowned. “Given up? What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” Skye explained, “we've given up trying to kill him. We don't know how to stop him, so we have to learn to live with him.”

  Roman's face was one of pure shock. “I don't understand,” he said. “So you're telling me that White Shadow is trying to stop Nikolai, but you don't know how?”

  Skye grimaced. He was aware of the answer but didn't want to admit it in such a moment when he was so earnestly trying to prove his faction's credibility. “Yes,” he admitted. “But there's more to it than that. Ren started White Shadow long before she ever met Nikolai or myself. When she and the others moved to Athenia, we were a simple vigilante group fighting for justice. Eventually, Nikolai turned against us, and he has been the enemy ever since. But that's a story for another day. In the meantime, we need to tell you more about Black Dawn and the threat you face.”