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

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  I pulled up to the main house within the compound’s walls maybe fifteen minutes after I left Cassie standing in her driveway, looking forlorn. Like I was abandoning her and her family. Like I wouldn’t come back. Like I’d let them all die. Hell, I’d failed in my first promise to her, so what reason did she have to believe me when I said I would return?

  In a rush, I barreled through the front door and paused in the middle of the foyer, head bowed and eyes closed, listening. Nobody was on that floor. Or rather, nobody with a heartbeat. I wouldn’t find Lex here.

  I flew across the foyer and up the staircase, heading straight for Heru’s study. When I didn’t find anyone in there, I checked Lex and Heru’s suite at the far end of the hallway, then Reni’s room. But they were all empty.

  “Damn it,” I hissed. Of course this couldn’t be easy. Not now, when the stakes were as high as they’d ever been. Poor Charlene was hanging on by the thinnest thread. I didn’t have time to waste running around like this. Luckily, I didn’t have to.

  Spinning around, I ran back to my room, where I knew a plethora of sketchbooks were waiting for me. I could go stand out on the porch and call out Lex’s name, except I didn’t want the whole Nejeret world to know I was looking for her, let alone why. Stealth was something I considered, sometimes. Rarely. Mostly just right now.

  I shoved the door to my bedroom open and grabbed the first sketchbook I saw, a half-filled spiral-bound book I usually used to sketch out preliminary tattoo designs for clients. I preferred not to mix work and pleasure in my sketchbooks, but fuck it—this was too important to give even a half of a shit.

  After grabbing a pen off the nightstand, I sat on the edge of the bed, back hunched and right hand drawing furiously. As Lex’s form took shape, flakes of brownish, dried blood snowed down on the image from the sleeve of my coat, but I didn’t even bother to brush them away. I could feel the electric thrum of potent energy siphoning in through my sheut and back out through the pen.

  In the drawing, Lex was standing with her back to me, hugging a long, hooded sweater around her body even as the ends of the sweater whipped about her legs. Her hair was pulled back into a loose bun, several escaped strands waving wildly around her head.

  “C’mon,” I murmured. “Where are you?” She was outside, that much was clear . . . but where, exactly?

  My pen scratched at the page, seemingly moving of its own volition. A long, twisted piece of driftwood took shape. Then countless little rocks filled the space under Lex’s feet. I didn’t even get started on drawing the water; it was obvious that she was on the beach at the north end of the compound. And I knew exactly where on the beach, because it was my go-to spot for quiet contemplation, too.

  I stood, tossing the sketchbook and pen onto the bed, and hurried to the door. I yanked it open and stepped out into the hallway. And ran headlong into Garth.

  “Jesus!” I stumbled backward a few steps, gripping the leather of my coat over my chest.

  Garth winced at my one-word outburst, taking a backward step himself. “Sorry,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

  I should’ve known he was there—my hearing was plenty good enough to have heard him from within the room—but I’d been too distracted by my mad search for Lex. By the desire to save Garth’s mom, a woman I’d never met, at least not while she was conscious.

  And yet, making sure she didn’t die was currently the most important thing in the world to me. It was absolutely imperative that I save her, overcoming even my need to stop the spread of the Cascade Virus or to destroy Ouroboros, Initiative Industries, and the Senate. I couldn’t explain why even if my life depended on it, but saving Charlene was everything.

  I huffed out a breath. “It’s fine. No harm.” I stepped back out into the hallway and pulled my bedroom door shut behind me, remembering at the last second to close it softly for the sake of Garth’s newly heightened hearing. “You’re supposed to be in bed . . . resting.” I cringed inwardly, hating the irritation in my voice. But, damn it, I didn’t have time for this; I was trying to save his mom!

  “I was resting, but . . .” Garth looked at me, anguish burning in his warm, brown eyes. “I called my folks . . . wanted to let them know I’m alright.”

  My heart plummeted. He knew. About his mom, that was certain, but did he know about my fumbling involvement?

  “My mom . . .” Garth’s stare grew distant. “She’s sick, and . . . it’s bad. She’s not going to last much longer.”

  I fought the urge to tell him I already knew about his mom, to tap my foot, to shove past him and get back to fixing this whole damn mess. But I couldn’t get his hopes up. I wouldn’t be able to stand seeing the same look in his eyes as I’d seen in Cassie’s if, after everything, I failed him, too.

  Aside from the few, rare exceptions, every Nejeret, man or woman, loses their mother early on. It’s a fact of near-eternal life that almost destroyed me two decades ago. And I was terrified that Garth would learn the truth of this unavoidable pain all too soon. Unless I could untangle this mess and ensure that he never, ever had to say farewell to Charlene.

  I closed the distance between Garth and me, throwing my arms around his broad body despite knowing my touch would be painful to his oversensitive nerve endings. He needed comfort—even what little I was able to offer him right now. Even if it came with a healthy dose of pain.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered into his T-shirt.

  He stood motionless for a moment, his whole body going rigid. But then he relaxed, his arms encircling me and his head dropping down so his nose was pressed into the crook of my neck. His shoulders shook. Hell, his whole body shook.

  I made shushing noises and rubbed his back, wincing when I thought of the remnants of dried blood I was no doubt smearing all over his T-shirt from my sleeve. At least it was the back of his shirt. He might not even notice.

  For at least a minute, we stood in the hallway, Garth clinging to me, showing no signs of loosening his grasp, and I was growing antsy. I needed to get to Lex. Convincing her to help wouldn’t be effortless. She hadn’t left the safety of the heavily guarded compound for weeks, not since the Nejeret civil war first started. Proving to her that I could ensure her safety was likely my largest hurdle, but by emphasizing my ability to create gateways—to punch holes through space to connect two distant points—I felt certain I’d be able to sway her. We’d just pop over there, do the thing, then pop right back. Zero travel time. Minimal exposure. Of course, I had to actually get to the beach and talk to her to start the ball rolling.

  Garth cleared his throat roughly. “Kat, do you think I could bring my mom here?”

  I stiffened. Heru might allow Charlene to spend her final hours down in Neffe’s lab—if she survived being moved here—but it would be impossible to carry out the temporarily forbidden procedure right under Heru’s nose.

  “I don’t know,” I said, pulling away from him. “It’s not up to me, but I can ask Heru for you. Right now, you should head home . . . be with your family.” Which would actually be perfect. While he was in transit, Garth would be out of my way, leaving me free to do what needed to be done to save his mom.

  Garth smiled, just a little, his gaze refocusing on me. “Thanks, Kat. I knew I could count on you.”

  I returned his smiled and reached out to give his arm a squeeze. “Go. You can take any of the cars in the garage; nobody’ll mind. The keys are hanging by the door.”

  “Oh,” Garth said. “Great.” He started up the hallway, passing me, then paused and turned around. “I don’t actually know where the garage is. Can you show me?”

  I clenched my jaw but forced my features to relax. I had to head out that way anyway to get to the trail that led to the beach. It would hardly cramp my timeline to show him which path to take.

  “Sure,” I said, hurrying past him. “Follow me.”

  Chapter Twelve

  I sprinted along the trail to the beach in moonlit darkness, dodging branches and leaping over fall
en trees without thought, like it was a dance I’d rehearsed a thousand times. My mind was too preoccupied to give any conscious thought to things as trivial as obstacles along the path, and my body took over. I always moved faster when my mind stayed out of it, anyway.

  I was breathing hard by the time the trail, padded with a thick layer of decaying leaves and pine needles, gave way to the crunch of tiny rocks under my boots. I slowed to a jog, hopping up onto, then over that same long piece of driftwood that had featured so prominently in my finding sketch of Lex.

  She stood exactly as I’d drawn her, loose strands of hair whipping about her head and long sweater hugged tight around her body, the light from the moon casting her in silver and gray.

  She glanced at me over her shoulder as I approached. “I heard you coming from a mile away,” she said, focus slipping back to the choppy sea. “What’s got you so worked up?” Now floated unsaid on the evening breeze.

  I slowed to a walk, left arm curved over my head to alleviate the stitch in my side. I keep in pretty good shape, but a sprint like that wasn’t something I was ever prepared for. “It’s Garth’s mom—”

  “Oh yes, I already know,” Lex said, voice monotone. She tossed me a sidelong glance. “I overheard his conversation with his dad.” She laughed under her breath, a sound devoid of any hint of joy. “He was so—” She shook her head. “I came out here as soon as I realized what they were talking about. After everything his ancestors did for me all those years ago, I didn’t think I’d be able to tell him no.” When he asked for help, she meant, because how could he not. Lex sighed. “I was hoping you and Nik might’ve already fixed the problem.” She glanced at me again, then returned to staring out across the Agate Passage. At Port Madison. It was like she’d been trying to see what was going on all the way on the other side of the water.

  “How’d you know where I went?”

  Lex shivered and hugged her sweater about herself more tightly. “Dom told me.” Oh, right, the standing mirror. I often forgot that I wasn’t the only one with access to him these days.

  I licked my lips, breathing hard. “Well, he must not’ve told you everything. I couldn’t help her.”

  Lex looked at me, brows raised. “Because you couldn’t find Nik?”

  Looked like Dom hadn’t told her much of anything at all. “No, I—I found him.” I hid my left hand behind my back; it was healed—sort of—but it was noticeably misshapen and would remain that way until the bones were re-broken and set properly. For some reason, I was embarrassed by what went down between Nik and me, and I didn’t want Lex to know.

  “And . . .” Lex prompted.

  “And Nik backed out, and I—” I almost told her about the way I’d shattered the At wall, but that would lead back to the fight with Nik and me sharing my bruised feelings and, well . . . I just wasn’t in a feelings-sharing kind of mood. I was in a get-shit-done mood, and I fully intended to do just that. “I can’t help Garth’s mom on my own,” I finally admitted.

  I paused, listening to my slowing heartbeat. When it was beating in time with Lex’s, I said, “I need your help.”

  Lex blew out a breath. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

  I moved to stand in front of her. “Just this one time, Lex. Just Garth’s family,” I said in a rush. “That’s it. I won’t ask you to do this ever again.”

  Lex didn’t respond. She didn’t move, displaying that utter stillness so common to Nejerets. For most of us, minimizing external stimulation makes it easier to think.

  “I already have a gateway drawn in the garage, and I can create a portable gateway for the trip back,” I told her. “You won’t have to expose yourself to the outside world for more than fifteen minutes,” I said, addressing what I assumed was her biggest concern. “That’s not even close to enough time for the Senate’s goons to figure out you’re off the compound.”

  Lex brought her hand up to her neck, rubbing that tender skin thoughtfully as she stared across the Agate Pass. “He can find me. Once he realizes I’m gone, wherever I go, he can find me. He’ll stop us.” She was talking about Heru.

  I inhaled slowly, hesitating. “That’s not exactly true.”

  She looked at me.

  “An At barrier will block him.”

  Her eyes widened.

  Before she could come up with some other—any other—logical, reasonable protest, I said, “He has a little sister. Garth, I mean. She’s eleven, and her name is Cassie.” I let that sink in for a second or two. A middle-aged, direly ill woman might not be enough to sway Lex, but the fate of a sick child had to. I rolled the potential lie around in my mouth, gauging the bitterness. Not too bad, and well worth it if it worked.

  I stared out at the Sound, but watched Lex out of the corner of my eye. And then I pulled out the big guns. “She’s sick, too.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  I told Lex to meet me in the garage in a half hour, whopper of a lie about Cassie and all. I was maybe being a little overly ambitious with my time estimate, but if I ran the whole way back to the house, repurposed part of a bedsheet for a mobile return gateway, then sprinted to the garage, I knew I could do it. That was leaving zero room for error. Always a great idea.

  Luckily—thanks, universe—I didn’t meet a single unexpected obstacle along the way back to the house, and the gateway I was drawing on a torn fragment of a cotton sheet flared to life with a solid five minutes left on the clock. I jumped to my feet, hastily rolled up the sheet-bound gateway, and blew out of the room.

  “Are you certain this is the wisest—”

  “Seriously?” I hissed, cutting Dom off as I hurtled down the stairs. “This is literally the worst possible time.”

  “Well, that’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Dom muttered.

  I held my tongue. Mostly because any retorts of mine would’ve been both childish and off base. He was just looking out for my and Lex’s best interests. He was always thinking of others.

  Well, I thought to myself, that’s exactly what I’m doing. Cassie and Garth and the rest of their family—this ending wasn’t written in their stars. The Cascade Virus wasn’t written in anyone’s stars, making it the most unnatural thing that had ever existed, and therefore it had to be combated at any cost. In my mind, at least.

  The Ducati was still parked at the base of the cascading stairs leading from the front door to the roundabout driveway. I hopped onto the bike, wedging the rolled-up sheet between the seat and my inner thigh and tossing my helmet into the bushes to retrieve later. I kicked the engine to life and made it into the garage with a minute to spare.

  Lex was already there, cell phone in hand as she paced in front of the gateway I’d drawn in the back corner of the garage earlier that day. As soon as I pulled the bike in through the open garage door, she tapped the face of her phone, and the door glided down to the ground.

  I killed the engine and walked the bike between Heru’s favorite Aston Martin and the armored Range Rover Lex used to drive back when venturing out of the compound was an option for her, bringing it to a stop a dozen or so feet from the gateway. Through the impossible opening in the wall, I could see the side of the Suquamish Museum, just a several-minute ride from Garth’s family’s place in the wooded hills beyond.

  “Hop on,” I said, nodding to the back of the bike. I pulled the wadded-up sheet out from where it was wedged under my thigh and held it out to Lex as she approached. “Hang on to this, will you? I don’t want to lose it.”

  She eyed the bundle, confused. Not surprising, considering it just looked like a rolled-up ivory bedsheet. Which it was. That just wasn’t all it was. “What is it?” she asked, reaching out to take hold of the sheet.

  “Our way home.” I twisted to pat the miniscule passenger seat behind me. “Hop on.”

  Lex raised her leg over the bike’s saddle, hesitant but graceful.

  “You ever ridden before?” I asked her over my shoulder.

  She shook her head.

  I lift
ed my left foot and settled the boot on the foot peg. “Alright, well . . . don’t make any sudden movements, and just sort of go with the flow of the bike, and we should be fine.”

  Lex frowned. “You said we’d travel straight there and back. Can’t we just walk?”

  I faced forward and muttered, “This’ll be faster,” just a moment before twisting the throttle, spurring the Ducati forward.

  Lex yelped as we hurtled toward the wall. Even I tensed up a bit—it’s only natural—but the bike’s front tire plunged into the gateway exactly as expected, and in a heartbeat, we were through.

  And riding right back into the garage.

  “Shit!” I squeezed the brakes, and the bike skidded to a halt mere inches from slamming into the side of a Lexus. The rear tire fishtailed, and I nearly dropped the bike, regaining control at the last possible moment. I did drop Lex, though.

  She hit the floor with a grunt, rolling on the cement and settling on her knees. Slowly, she stood, wincing when she put pressure on her right foot. I had to give it to her; she knew how to fall.

  “I take it that wasn’t supposed to happen,” she said, pushing her hair out of her face.

  “Definitely not.” I straightened out the bike and propped it on its kickstand, then jogged back to the gateway, scanning the entire thing in search of something—anything—that might tell me why it had malfunctioned so dramatically. It still showed me a view of the side of the museum. It should have taken us there, not back here.

  I stepped off to the side of the gateway, getting as close to the wall as I could, and looked at the gateway’s surface. Nothing stood out as being off, not that I had any clue what to look for, really.

  I took a step backward and, experimentally, raised my hand and pushed it through the gateway. At the same moment, movement to my left caught my eye.