Sanctuary's Aggression Complete Collection Box Set: A Post-apocalyptic Survival Thriller Series

by Maira Dawn

  Devon crouched down to get a closer look. The blonde male was so like a human and yet not one at all. It was so large, it barely fit in the barred enclosure.

  The abomination glanced at Devon with apprehension, if not outright fear. Its eyes glazed with pain and drugs, the only things keeping it under control. Devon smiled at the defiant light the Atlantian still had. They never gave up the fight, never recognized when he conquered them. But he did.

  Devon put a finger on its tattoo, tracing one symbol and wondering what it meant. The thing tried to move away but was too confined. It shook the small cage and growled words Devon didn't understand.

  Devon chuckled. "It always starts with the growling and ends with whining. The night is young."

  It shook the cage harder.

  "There is only one acceptable thing about you people. It is the good you can do for humankind. I will take you apart piece by piece. I will bleed anything beneficial from you and yours and use it to help me and mine. If it's the last thing I do. And I'll take the greatest pleasure in doing it."

  The caged man stilled and stared at Devon.

  Devon flushed with excitement. “You know who I am, don’t you?”

  The thing looked at the floor and shuddered.

  Devon leaned toward him and whispered, “I’m going to send you home in pieces too.”

  He watched the man from the water pull at the bars. “You can’t get out. I’ve made them special. So give up. Tonight is about learning. I will take the time to teach you what you are and what I am. This beating you've had is clearly not enough. I've had you drugged enough to be compliant, but not enough to miss out on this important lesson. You need to recognize who is in charge. I use electricity to teach that. It seems to have more of an effect on your people."

  Devon waited for it and wasn't disappointed. The first whine of dread. He tapped the cattle prod to the cage to give the thing a preview of what was to come, then held it there letting it send its steely shock to every point that touched the thing’s body.

  When the Atlantian's eyes rolled back, and he passed out, Devon stared at him. Then he stood and whistled as he prepared for the next lesson.

  Thirty-Five

  Broke

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Two years to the day after Sunny left him, Ian sat in a car his eyes glued on a building across the street. It had taken him a long time to get to a place where he could trust himself to walk on land and not scour the earth for her. Ian recalled the months it took before he cared if he lived, to ate, or breathed. He raised a hand to rub the middle of his chest. He still wasn't sure his heart ever beat.

  Ian remembered every detail of the day he took Sonora back as if it were happening this moment. Her silky blonde hair shadowing her face as she bowed her head. Her tears, his pain.

  The pain was still there, like a thousand blades slicing at his heart. It never stopped. And it never would. Even being on land tricked him, Ian was sure he could sense Sunny’s presence. He crushed the thought, unable to believe it could be true.

  Though Ian tried to control it, his mind wandered back to that day, as if in punishment, as if to give him one moment of peace was too much. He'd watched every slow step Sonora took through the water, willing her to turn around, to fly back into his arms. But she didn't.

  She walked into her family's arms as Ian watched, unable or unwilling to break his last sight of her. He knew what it would mean for him. His happiness walked with her.

  Ian ached as he saw her turn and look for him. Drank in the fact that she tried, but he stayed hidden. Another goodbye was not in him.

  When Sonora's car turned from the parking lot, and his connection to her faded to emptiness, Ian broke. It was quiet, just a small snap somewhere inside him. He supposed it wasn't really audible. The feel of it just made it seem as though there was a sound.

  After that, a black hole sat where his heart used to be. Sonora carried his heart. It took all he had not to let that black hole grow, to overtake him, or what was left of him, anyway.

  For the first time, Ian understood the infamous Argos. The man's name was whispered in their halls instead of spoken, if it was said at all. A man who fell so deep into grief he'd lost the man he once was and become a monster.

  Argos had let that blackness grow until hate and destruction filled him. That is what Ian fought.

  When Ian returned home that day, he'd entered his house, locked all the doors, and buried himself in the quiet darkness. At first, it seemed to soothe him.

  His mother and father knocked then pounded at the door in their concern. It was unusual for a door to be locked to the rest of them. Ian knew it fueled their worry, but he had no desire or will to move.

  Finally, on his father's shouted threats that he would send a few burly cousins to bust down the door, Ian opened it to them. But his family's pity was too much. It was bad enough before he found his Jata Ara, but now to have found and lost her, it was beyond bearing.

  So Ian turned away visitors, once again locking his doors and embracing darkness. It was then the dark began whispering its evil thoughts.

  He was a tracker. It would be a small thing to find her and drag her down here.

  If her family died, she would have nowhere to go. It was a simple act to kill a human. A quick twist of the neck and this would be her only home.

  She would get used to it, the voice whispered. She would be here. It would be enough.

  The gloom overtook Ian until all he almost could not see. Until he worried that soon he would not want to see. He shook it off long enough to seek out the ones who would most understand.

  The widowers.

  Though very rare for an Atlantian to lose a mate while young, older widowers whose mates had left them too early did exist. The darkness must also dwell within them.

  They were his real source of comfort. The ones who suffered the edge of the blade piercing their soul every waking moment, the ones who carried a black hole instead of a heart, the ones who ignored the whispers that spoke of death.

  Ian listened to their wise words and drowned out the murmuring. He found every widower had their own way of pushing the dark away, but there was one common thread. Keep the hours filled with something, anything.

  At the start, Ian's puny efforts often failed. He would end up lying on the couch, staring at nothing in particular until the whispers started again. Sometimes, he would sleep, finding unconsciousness the only way he could make it through the day.

  But as time went on, Ian found he could make it through most of the hours as if he were some semblance of an Atlantian. More importantly, he became skilled at keeping the blackness at bay. Most of the time.

  This was the best it would be, the way it would always be, the widowers told him. There would never be an ease to the grief, as sometimes seemed to be the case for humans. For Atlantians, it stayed as raw as the moment it happened.

  The emotion in the old men's eyes held a warning and a hope out to him. None could change their own situation, yet each knew Ian could reach out and take Sonora, and end his own suffering. It was clear some would have done so.

  Ian's hand gripped the car console until it cracked. Even now, the thought of taking her never left his mind. He had less control of his emotions than the day she left. It had been all he could do to get her home. He'd almost turned around a hundred times. And Ian knew if Sonora stood before him now, he would drag her back, kicking and screaming.

  Ian uttered a sad little chuckle. And she would kick and scream. But if he saw her…

  He shook his head. What was it that lingered in Atlantians? They controlled themselves better than humans, but still, this darkness lay within them.

  Ian's gaze narrowed as a movement at the building he watched caught his eye. He sighed. He'd come up here to continue his mission to find the traitor. Others had tried and failed. At least, it was a way he could help his people. He needed to put away his thoughts of Sunny and focus on that.

  Thirty-Six
r />   The Artifact

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Ian scanned the street and the building he planned on visiting. Unlike many pawnshops, this one boasted a clean, attractive appearance. Part pawnshop, part beach rentals, the building had colorful surf and bodyboards lined up against its outer wall. Built with a rusty-colored brick, the pawnshop sat along the sidewalk on Main Street, bright blue awnings shaded the windows. It's small-town charm matched the appeal of the other buildings on the street.

  There was no bad side to this sleepy little town called Seaside. And although each structure exhibited its own design, it seemed as though the city council decided, some time ago, the buildings of the city should appear unified. The blue awnings which hung at most of the windows, and the planters bursting with multi-colored flowers sitting on each side of the main doors seemed to do the trick.

  Besides the pawnshop, this street housed a music store, a shoe store, and a men's clothing store. Further down the road stood a few restaurants, most of which Ian had tried at one time or another. And at the corner, the busiest place on the street, a coffee shop.

  A couple leaving the pawnshop caught Ian's eye. Now was the time to go into the shop, if he wanted the owner's undivided attention. It tended to stray if he had other customers inside the store. Ian hopped out of his car and ran across the street. He reached the front door just as Rick turned the sign from OPEN to CLOSED.

  Had he been sitting there that long? He wasn't doing as well as he'd hoped.

  Ian's eyebrow jerked up when Rick hesitated. He slapped a hand-drawn picture of the Artifact to the glass, reminding the man of the importance of this visit. It was clear Ian's size, if nothing else, intimidated him.

  Rick nodded and unlocked the door. "Hey, sorry, dude. I gotta night planned so I don't have a lotta time." He slowly drew out his words, enunciating them in such a way there was no doubt he was born by the beach. Rick pushed back his sun-bleached hair with a well-tanned hand while eyeing Ian.

  Ian scoffed. ”We all have plans." From the looks of Rick, his plans included a bottle and maybe something more.

  Rick swallowed. "Yeah, sure, of course. Lookin a little rough today? Gnarly night?"

  Ian ignored him and walked to the counter.

  "Dude, let me guess. babe trouble? Let me tell ya—" Rick seemed about to launch into a story about his own woman trouble. Ian didn't want to hear it.

  "Stop. That's not what I am here for," Ian practically growled.

  Rick threw his arms up. "Hey, sorry! Didn't mean to upset ya."

  One glance at Rick's surprised and almost hurt face, and Ian told himself to calm down. The last time he was here had been before—before her. The man Ian had been then was friendly and charming. That man had gotten Rick's help, barely. Acting like this would not help him get anything from the pawnshop owner.

  "No, I apologize." Ian shook his head. "Your right, it's that. I just can't talk about it."

  "Too fresh. I get it, dude. I get it."

  Ian laid the picture he carried on the counter and tapped it with his finger. "Did you find out anything about this?"

  "I'd never seen anything like that box before you brought the picture round the first time. Not really the kind of thing I deal in here. So I reckoned I wouldn't have any answers for ya."

  Ian slumped, leaning on the counter. He'd known it was a long shot. But this was the only lead right now, his others had dried up.

  "But then I started thinking." Rick chuckled, "Something I try not to do too much or for too long. My family's been on these waters a long time, and you hear things. Stories. Even my grandma, she tells me stories. She used to say, 'Rickie.' That's what she likes to call me. 'Rickie,' she'd say, 'there's a lot more to this world than you or I know.' My parents used to laugh at her, but I never did. She used to fish out there with her daddy. She knew things. Told me a few of them."

  Ian stilled. Rick laid his arm next to Ian's and picked up a black light. If Ian was going to leave, he needed to do it now.

  Rick gave him a hard stare before clicking the black light on. The light showed what Ian knew it would. With little variation, Rick's skin was a dark, eerie blue color.

  Ian's was not. The slight luminescence of his skin enhanced tenfold beneath the light creating a brilliant effect. Though mostly blue, the color was radiant with patterned lines and dots in dark reds and purple scattering his skin. Even a few flecks of gold caught the light.

  It seemed to have an almost hypnotizing effect on Rick, similar to the stare Ian had seen humans give tanks full of glowing jellyfish. Those tanks were something he’d learned to stay well away from.

  "Wow, man, wow. This is trippin'. Just like Grandma said." Rick shot Ian a look before going back to Ian's arm. "You're like this all over?"

  "Yep."

  "Born like this?"

  "Yes."

  When Ian pulled his arm away, Rick grunted his disappointment.

  The man’s eyes lit up. Ian sighed. He knew what was coming next.

  "Do you grow a tail and everything?" Rick asked.

  It was always the first question. But on one thing, Rick was right. There were always stories circulating in the coastal towns. How could there not be? No matter how hard the Atlantians tried to stay hidden, there were enough humans on the water nowadays, they sighted them from time to time. So the council had decided to use that to their favor. If it would help Ian get information on the traitor or the Artifact he'd stolen, he was permitted to tell people about himself. And whenever Ian did, this was their first question. "No, we don't grow tails."

  Rick looked disappointed. "So, this Artifact. It’s really your people's."

  "Yes, it was stolen from us."

  "I knew it, dude! That ain't right, that's what I think. So I asked around, and I might have something. A buddy of mine works at the Natural History Museum over near the city. He says he's seen something like this in the basement storage there.”

  Ian's heart thumped. "Here? Right here at the museum a half-hour away?"

  "Yeah bro, that one." Rick stood and crossed his arms. "Ready to be totally amped? He said they're getting it ready to loan to The Marine Center here in town. They're going to open an exhibit with that as the centerpiece."

  Ian stepped back, stunned. A relief he hadn't felt since the beginning of this hunt filled him. Ian put a hand to the countertop and easily jumped the counter. Rick's eyes rounded when Ian grabbed Rick and hugged him, then thumped him on the back. Rick accepted the heartfelt, if somewhat crushing, appreciation with grace.

  "I have searched the world for this, Rick. Followed the person who stole it to every single continent before losing their trail. Now, you have found it! You will be rewarded."

  While Rick stammered his appreciation, another thought came to Ian. If the Artifact landed practically in the Atlantian's back yard, was the traitor too? "Is there anything about who brought it in?"

  "There was a tag with the address on the box. But see the address is all blurred. Doesn't seem to be anyone special. If its who I think,I’ve only heard good things about the dude. He just lives down the road here." Rick pointed to the direction as he handed Ian the address.

  Ian took the paper and stared at it speechless, his hands trembling. If only his father was close enough to share the news.

  Could this really be the traitor? The one who had taken what was not his? The Artifact. Something crucial for both his people and humans. If only for that, the man needed to be caught. But this traitor was behind the murder of his own people, even if he did use humans to do it. Ian shuddered as he remembered the mutilated bodies of friends and family who had been sent out to sea, mocking the entire Atlantian people. If the man on this paper was the traitor, he could finally stop him.

  Ian smiled and enthusiastically shook Rick's hand, but after noticing the man's small grimace of pain, loosened his grip. "Thank you! I cannot explain how important this is." Ian stared at Rick. "And about me, do I need to say..."

  "Yep, I know. It's not
hin' but tall tales. I wish ya'll the best, dude."

  Ian pounded Rick on the back again as he left. Rick stood at the door watching as Ian walked to his car. A bemused look on his face as he rubbed his shoulder.

  Thirty-Seven

  This is What Happens…

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Just a few buildings from the pawnshop Ian stood in, Sonora sat in the coffee shop. A small restaurant, it contained less than fifteen tables on the inside and four on the sidewalk in front of the large windows facing the street. Couches and stuffed chairs broke up the tables to create a homey appeal, and the aroma of roasted coffee and sweet treats added to the illusion.

  It was a slow time of the day, and other than the customers who took their orders to go, Sonora practically had the place to herself. Only one other table was taken by two moms who chatted as their babies slept in their strollers.

  Sonora sat at her table alone, sipping her coffee, her laptop opened in front of her as she finished a college assignment. She chewed her lip as she brainstormed the perfect sentence to end her latest paper. Why was the last sentence always the hardest?

  She had to laugh at herself. This is what she’d wanted, to go to college, so she shouldn’t complain. Sure, waiting tables, most days, may be easier than writing her thousandth report but it wouldn’t get her what she needed in the long run.

  What she needed to do was tell her family about her secret college classes, instead of pretending she worked so much. Sonora hated lying to them, but it was necessary to explain her time away from home. After two years, it had got old long ago. And it made her feel guilty, and distanced her from her family. Her morning walks with her grandfather, and breakfast around the table were regulated to the times she could talk about her day.