The Kat Dubois Chronicles: The Complete Series (Echo World Book 2)

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  “The news is reporting cases of the disease in hospitals in Portland, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Albuquerque, Salt Lake City, and Vancouver now,” Dom said, breaking through my meditative fog.

  I exhaled heavily, shoulders slumping. “Guess closing the state borders didn’t work.”

  Washington had been under quarantine since the previous evening, once it became obvious that the people flooding hospitals in the greater Seattle and Tacoma areas complaining of a severe flu were actually the first wave of a new, frightening epidemic. The Cascade Virus—CV, for short, a strange viral pathogen that was seemingly nonresponsive to any kind of treatment—was all anyone could talk about on the news these days. I’d stopped watching TV or listening to the radio that morning, sick of hearing about the search for a cure. I already knew they’d never find one.

  “Maybe they can stop it before it spreads across the country,” I said, resting my chin on my hand. Not sure who “they” were in my mind, but surely there was someone—some humanitarian group or special government organization—who could handle this. Someone who could succeed where we’d failed.

  “Perhaps,” Dom said, but he didn’t sound convinced.

  “If it gets any worse, this could be bad, Dom—like, extinction-level bad.”

  “After everything we’ve learned from the members of the board, I believe that is precisely the point of all this.” Heru had learned from Scott, the youngest member of the Ouroboros board, that the Senate paid him half a billion dollars and promised him immortality if he arranged for the release of ten infected humans and planted them in major cities across the country. He’d only made it to seven by the time we shut down his base of operations, the lab in SoDo.

  I shook my head, feeling defeated. “I just don’t get it. Why would the Senate do this? How could they? It’s just so . . . so wrong.” What good was Heru’s war now when all he was fighting for was a crumbling world?

  “I wish I had an answer for you, little sister.”

  “I don’t,” I said. “That would mean your mind is just as twisted as theirs are.” I inhaled deeply, then sighed. “The number of people who are going to die . . .” Even thinking about it twisted my stomach into knots. “I wish there was something I could do. Anything.” I’d never felt more useless in my life.

  “There is something you can do,” Nik said from some ways behind me.

  I straightened and twisted around on the driftwood, spotting him at the mouth of the trail leading to the beach through the woods. “Shouldn’t you be with Mari right now?” The two had been working together so closely for the past couple of days that I’d barely seen him, even though we’d both been in and out of the basement laboratory the whole time.

  Nik strolled the rest of the way to my driftwood bench and sat beside me. “I’m right where I should be.”

  My cheeks warmed, and I hated my stupid heart for the little flutter it gave. I averted my gaze, staring down at the tiny rocks near my boots rather than risking meeting Nik’s pale eyes.

  “The way I see it, we’ve got two options.”

  “Oh?” I thumbed the cuff of my leather sleeve.

  “Either we let all the humans die, and that’s it,” he said. “Game over.”

  I raised my eyes to meet his. “Or?”

  Nik leaned in, like he was making sure he had my attention. It was pointless; he always had my attention. “Or,” he said, “we save as many of them as we possibly can before it’s too late.”

  “By turning them into Nejerets before the Cascade Virus kills them, you mean.” Which also meant “we” didn’t include me. I slouched, just a little, my gaze wandering back down to the rocky beach. “You and Mari, team awesome, saviors of humanity.” I gave an unenthusiastic fist pump. “Go you.”

  Nik guffawed. “Not exactly, Kitty Kat.” He bumped my shoulder with his. “I was thinking of you and me, actually. Figured, with your gateways and my control over At, nothing’s stopping us from taking this show on the road.” He pulled something out of the pocket of his jeans. When he uncurled his fingers, one of the At marbles containing a sliver of Heru’s ba rested on his hand. “We’ve already got an endless supply of ba, and if we went from hospital to hospital, we could make a serious dent in the spread of CV.”

  Eyes wide, I looked at him. “But—but what about Mari? You made a deal.” That deal was the only reason Garth was going to live. “You agreed to help her in her research.” I shook my head. “She can’t actually do anything without you there to complete the transfer.”

  “Lex can do it,” Nik said, shocking the hell out of me.

  I felt my eyes bug out. “She can? Since when?”

  “You’re not the only one who’s sheut is evolving and growing stronger.”

  I stared at him for a few more seconds, mouth hanging open. “So she can control At like you now?”

  Nik nodded lazily. “Says she’s been working on it for a while. Her abilities are pretty limited at this point, but she’s good enough to meet Mari’s needs.” He shrugged. “I think she’s looking forward to it, actually. It’ll give her something worthwhile to do . . . you know, a way to contribute to the cause even though the war keeps her stuck behind the walls here.”

  I couldn’t stop staring at Nik. As he spoke, it took all of my willpower not to jump up and do a spaztastic happy dance. I pressed my palms together and sandwiched my hands between my thighs. “So you’re serious,” I said, half-asking. “You really want to do this—save the world and all that?”

  Nik chuckled. “Maybe not the whole world.” He leaned in a few inches. “Maybe we can just start with the humans in Seattle and go from there.”

  “Deal,” I said, grinning as I offered him my fist. “So when do we start?” I was so tired of doing nothing that I was ready to start yesterday.

  He smirked and curled his fingers back around the At marble, raising his fist to bump knuckles. “How about now?”

  The end

  Thanks for reading! You’ve reached the end of Outcast (Kat Dubois Chronicles, #2). Keep reading for more Kat adventures in Underground (Kat Dubois Chronicles, #3).

  Underground

  Book 3

  For Jenna, who inspires me every day

  with her endless well of patience, love, and kindness.

  I couldn’t magic up a better friend if I had a sheut of my very own.

  Chapter One

  “No,” Heru said. “Absolutely not.” His leather wingback chair was silhouetted by the view of the woods, the choppy Puget Sound, and the overcast sky through the window behind him. “We don’t know nearly enough about the side effects of the transformation.” He leaned back, away from his desk, and rested his hands on the chair’s armrests, making it appear more a throne than a desk chair. He was a king, through and through. “Until we’ve had more time to study Garth and Constance, until we know exactly what the implantation of a ba has done to them beyond curing them, the procedure is on hold indefinitely.”

  This couldn’t be happening. I took a step closer to the desk, hand outstretched. “But what about—”

  Heru shed the blasé air and stood, the leather of his chair creaking and the chair’s legs screeching as they moved across the hardwood floor. “Listen very carefully, Kat,” he said, placing his palms on the desk, one on either side of his laptop, and leaning forward. His golden irises flashed with irritation. Even from a dozen paces away, he seemed to tower over me. “I forbid you from transforming even a single human into a Nejeret. Am I making myself clear?”

  I lowered my outstretched hand, balling it into a tight fist. My fingers itched for the hilt of my sword, Mercy. The pain of my nails digging into my palm provided a small but much-needed distraction, activating the lizard part of my brain enough that I didn’t attack Heru with words. Or worse.

  I shifted my focus from Heru to his wife, Lex—my half-sister—who was seated in one of the cushy armchairs set off to the side of Heru’s desk, silently bouncing their toddler, Reni, on her knees. Both mother a
nd daughter had been watching our exchange, eyes opened wide and mouths forming tiny Os. Still were. Neither they nor I had expected this meeting to go south so quickly. Or at all.

  I implored Lex with a single look, desperation quickening the rise and fall of my chest—like, running-up-stairs quick.

  Lex inhaled as though she was about to say something but hesitated, closing her mouth a moment before giving a tiny headshake and averting her gaze. Or rather, avoiding mine.

  I pressed my lips together, holding in a frustrated growl, and glanced over my shoulder at Nik. He’d been standing beside me for minutes, quiet as a mouse. He was supposed to be my partner in this. The whole save-the-humans plan was his idea in the first place. He should’ve been backing me up.

  But instead, his expression was blank, like he was only half paying attention. Less than. He did that sometimes. It was his conversing-with-Re face. Except the ancient god had long since vacated Nik’s body, so I had no clue why Nik was still making these infrequent trips to la-la land.

  Whatever. Right now, I really didn’t care, except for the part where he’d picked a pretty damn terrible time to check out, the prick. His plan, remember? And he was just standing there, hanging me out to dry.

  “Thanks for nothing,” I hissed under my breath, my glance turning into a glare. I took a deep breath, inhaling the earthy scent of leather and musk wafting off the books lining the towering built-in shelves on either side of the study. Looked like I’d be fighting this battle on my own. I cracked my neck. No biggie. I was used to going solo, anyway.

  “Listen,” I said on my exhale, forcing myself to meet Heru’s hawkish golden stare.

  “I urge you to use caution, little sister,” Dom said from within the mirror pendant hanging on a leather cord around my neck.

  I ignored my half-dead half-brother—aside from an eye roll, which he couldn’t even see, so it hardly counted—and barreled onward. “I’m never going to have kids,” I said to Heru. “We all know that. So why don’t you just consider whoever Nik and I transform to be my darling children?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Lex and Reni turn their faces from me to Heru. When Lex’s domineering husband—my own oath-sworn leader—failed to respond, her focus returned to me. Our argument was like the slowest, tensest tennis match in the history of the world.

  “It’s only fair, isn’t it?” I said, taking another step toward the desk. Toward Heru. “Or is creating new Nejerets a privilege only meant for the good old boys’ club?” Another step. Another. My eyes narrowed to slits. I didn’t care that I was poking a bear. “How many kids have you fathered, anyway? Maybe that’ll give me a good starting quota.” Gods, but I hated my voice when it took on that snide tone. Couldn’t help it, though. Mix the hormones of an eighteen-year-old with an assload of frustration and anger, and, well . . . consider my bitch mode activated.

  Heru breathed in and out three times, his nostrils flaring, then straightened, pulling his hands off the desk’s ashen surface. His face remained expressionless, aside from a minor tensing at the corner of his mouth. “I understand your desire to save the humans, Kat, I truly do,” he said, making his way around the desk. “But we are in uncharted territory here, and caution may very well save more lives in the long run than will steering a reckless course through dangerous waters.”

  He drew closer, and I crossed my arms over my chest. When his stare became too intense, I lowered my eyes to the floor. “How many people are going to die while we sit here doing nothing?” I said, my voice small. Small, but razor-edged.

  “You may be surprised that I do, in fact, have a very good idea of just how many people will perish with each passing hour.” Heru placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Based on the reports so far, of course.”

  His was meant to be a comforting gesture—probably—but I couldn’t shake the knowledge that positioned like we were now, he could snap my neck before I’d even have a chance at any kind of defensive maneuver, if he chose to. I doubted the thought had even crossed his mind. The threat was likely just a product of my imagination, but that didn’t stop it from spurring a spike of adrenaline. Annoying, considering Heru would easily be able to hear the resulting rise in my heart rate. I gritted my teeth.

  “I also have projections of how many people will contract the virus each hour, as well as vectors showing the potential spread of the infection worldwide.” Heru gave my shoulder a squeeze. “At present, the Cascade Virus is mainly a threat to the North American population alone.”

  I scoffed and raised my eyes to meet his. “You can’t believe it’s not already everywhere.”

  Heru gave a sideways nod. “Indeed, I do not. But the virus has a far weaker foothold elsewhere, which means that even if we lose most of the population of this continent, we may very well still be able to find another way—a less permanent way—to save the rest of humanity. Introducing millions upon millions of new Nejerets is far from the best solution.”

  Millions . . . I hadn’t thought of it on that grand of a scale. Not that I was about to let any hint of shock show. “Oh, please,” I said. “Like there’s any other solution.” I laughed derisively. “There’s not going to be some amazing discovery, and even if there is, we’re not going to be able to manufacture a cure overnight.” Neffe, Aset, and every other science-minded Nejeret loyal to Heru had been working on finding an alternative cure for the Cascade Virus for days, but it remained just as stubbornly incurable. My lip curled. “Sounds like you’re just afraid of a little immortal competition.”

  “Afraid . . .” Heru’s hand fell away, and he turned to the side, his head bowed. “Yes, I am afraid.” For just that moment, a fraction of a second, it seemed as though all of those impending deaths weighed heavily upon his shoulders. But as quickly as the impression came, he straightened and was back to being all ruthless confidence. “But what I fear is for the well-being of our kind and of the planet that we call home.” He strode over to Lex and Reni.

  His daughter blinked up at him, her cherubic face fraught with worry as he curled one of her fine, dark ringlets around his finger.

  “Nejerets have large appetites, and we’re prone to excess,” he said. “The loss of humanity would be a shock to our way of life, but I fear the Earth could not sustain such a large swell in immortals.” He emitted a whisper of a sigh. “And that’s assuming we could even find a way to live together in peace.” He released the strand of his little girl’s hair, brushed his knuckle over his wife’s cheekbone, and returned to the chair behind the desk. “Considering how well we’re doing right now, my hopes aren’t high.”

  Though logical and heartfelt, his reasoning didn’t sway me. Human lives weren’t worth less than Nejeret lives; that was the kind of thinking that had fostered the psychopathic genocidal actions of the Senate.

  “Fine,” I said, slumping my shoulders purposely to display defeat and moving one hand behind my back. I crossed my fingers. “We’ll do it your way.”

  Chapter Two

  I exhaled heavily, tossing Lex one final glance and unable to resist flashing Reni a weak smile, then turned my back to them and started for the door, passing Nik on my way. No more crossed fingers, of course. “C’mon, Nik,” I grumbled. Just because we were stuck here—for now—didn’t mean we had to be sitting on our thumbs. I fully intended to spend the downtime refining our plan and weighing our options—obey, or don’t. I certainly wasn’t opposed to a little rogue action.

  I had the door to the hallway open and was halfway out of the study by the time I realized Nik wasn’t following me.

  I called to him, turning partway and raising my voice. “Dude, what gives? Let’s go regroup.”

  Both Heru and Lex were watching him, brows drawn together and eyelids narrowed. They looked as perplexed as I felt, all of that coated in a fine dusting of unease.

  I marched back into the study, grabbed Nik’s arm, and gave it a tug. “Hey, space cadet, coming back to Earth anytime soon?”

  I barely registe
red Reni clapping her hands and cooing, “Oooooh . . . pretty!”

  Nik blinked several times, his faraway stare melting away. “What?” He looked at me. “Did I miss something?”

  I laughed bitterly. “Nothing important.” I sent a meaningful glance Heru’s way. “But we have been dismissed, so . . .” Another meaningful glance, this time at the open door.

  Nik cocked his head to the side, shaking it infinitesimally.

  I frowned, mirroring his head tilt. “Hey—you okay?”

  “I swear I could hear—” Again, he shook his head, more forcefully this time. “Never mind.”

  “Okaaay . . .” I gave his arm another little tug. “My room?” I asked, eyebrows raised. “I’ll fill you in on what you missed.” I let go of his arm and took a step toward the doorway.

  “Ah, yeah . . .” Nik followed, taking one halting step, then another. “I mean, no. I need to . . .” Again, he shook his head. “There’s something I have to do. I’ll, uh . . .” His pace increased, and he beat me to the doorway. “I’ll catch up with you later,” he said, jogging into the hallway.

  I stopped in the doorway and watched him rush down the second-floor hallway toward the grand staircase at the front of the house. Once he was out of sight, I glanced over my shoulder at the family of three watching from within the study. Both Lex and Heru wore what-the-fuck expressions. Glad I wasn’t the only one.

  Nik wasn’t normal, not even for a Nejeret. His time sharing his body with Re had changed him irrevocably, making him distant and difficult to read. Even now, with Re gone—returned to his home universe where the rest of the Netjers could restore him to health—he still seemed to have a hold over Nik, almost like echoes of the god remained with him, haunting his consciousness. He was generally difficult to know, let alone to understand, but his behavior just moments ago was downright bizarre.