A hush fell over the control room as we considered all that would be involved in a heist to steal the world’s single greatest power source. The shiny new chaos stone had been created under the name of Project Atlantea by a team of scientists at CERN, the Swiss-based research organization that led the world in advancements in fundamental physics and explored the frontiers of science and technology. According to our latest scan of the planet, the chaos stone was still stored in CERN facilities, no doubt under the highest levels of security.
Stealing the chaos stone wouldn’t be easy. Nearly impossible was more like it. But then, I was something most people would consider being impossible—an ancient alien psychic warrior, cloned and raised as a human. Meg, another psychic warrior, was just as impossible. And then there was Hades, the Olympian who had been alive for long enough to watch the rise and fall of every major human civilization. If our group of impossibles couldn’t pull this heist off, no one could.
Hades inhaled deeply, his lips parting as though he was going to say something, but he closed his mouth instead. He glanced at me, but quickly looked away, focusing instead on the flashing red screen.
I narrowed my eyes, studying him. “Hades? What is it?”
Hades dragged his attention back to me and rubbed the back of his neck, hesitating before speaking. “The chaos stone alone will not fix the power core,” he finally said. “We need other parts.”
That was news to me. So far as I understood, once we had the chaos stone, we could plug it into the Alpha site, bringing the settlement up to full power, and we would be able to fabricate virtually any part we might need to repair the Omega site. Down in the Alpha site’s mainframe, we could generate a whole new power core if we wanted. I couldn’t imagine needing anything we couldn’t just make.
“OK . . .” Arms crossed over my chest, I tapped my index finger against my elbow. “So, we'll search the other Olympian sites for the necessary parts,” I said. The Beta site was likely picked over, due to the Zari occupation of the ancient underground settlement, but that still left four more sites here on Earth—the Gamma site, the Delta site, the Epsilon site, and our flagship settlement, the Alpha site.
The corners of Hades’ mouth tensed, and I braced myself for bad news. “I've already burned through all the resources on this planet. Since the Omega site was originally part of the Tartarus, the tech is far older than that used in any of the other sites here on Atlantis.” He shook his head, closing his eyes in a prolonged blink. “I mean, Earth.” He was quiet for a moment, and the burdens he’d been carrying over the millennia—alone—seemed to weigh down on him. Even with my regulator activated, suppressing my psychic senses, I could practically feel his weariness, and my heart ached for him. “I used what I could to patch the malfunctioning systems,” he finally said, “but without the correct parts or materials, I cannot truly fix the power core.”
I clenched my jaw. Why couldn’t the solution ever be simple? I took a deep, calming breath, exhaling through my nose. “So, the chaos stone isn't what will fix the power core?” I clarified.
“It won’t,” Hades said, shaking his head. “But it will make it possible for us to find the parts that will.”
I let my head fall back and stared up at the shiny steel ceiling arching overhead. “I was really afraid you were going to say that,” I groaned.
“Why?” my mom asked from across the circle. “What’s the problem?”
Sighing, I raised my head to look at her. She watched me with curious eyes. “What Hades isn’t saying is that to find the parts he needs to fix the power core and prevent this whole place from dying, we have to use the gephyra to travel off-world to the lost colonies. That’s why we need the chaos stone—it’s the only thing on this planet with enough juice to power the gephyra.”
“The gephyra,” Raiden said, drawing my attention to him, “that’s the thing that creates wormholes to other planets?”
“It doesn’t create wormholes,” Hades started to explain. “It creates bridges. What you call wormholes are actually—”
“The least of our concern,” I said, waving a hand to dispel the unnecessary explanation. “Yes, the gephyra allows us to travel to other planets instantly. But what really matters is that we don't know what we'll find on those other planets.” After a moment, I added, “Or who we'll find.”
Meg’s brow furrowed as she picked up on the source of my worry through our bond. A moment later, Hades’ expression softened as he comprehended my concern, as well, and I shifted my focus to the flashing red screen before I could watch pity fill his eyes.
A team of Amazon warriors had passed through the gephyra over twelve thousand years ago, the day I died, to search the lost colonies for a chaos stone. The Tsakali were headed our way, and we needed the chaos stone to power the Tartarus’ faster-than-light engines and allow our people to flee this planet. The team had succeeded, and they had been in the process of establishing a bridge back to Earth when the shit hit the fan. Long story short, the team had been stranded on a distant planet.
Because of me. Because I had helped Hades pull out the chaos fragments powering the gephyra, preventing the bridge from forming on our end. Stranding my spearsisters. Damning them.
Those Amazons had likely died on that distant planet, trying to get back here. But as terrifying as that thought was, there was another, scarier option: those Amazons hadn't died. That they'd found cryochambers to preserve their bodies, just as Hades had done to survive the passing millennia. That they would awaken and learn what I had done to them, and I would be shunned by the last remnants of my sisterhood.
“If we're traveling to some other planet to search for parts,” Fiona said, clueless as to the miserable reality I was facing, “maybe we'll find something else to help us battle these Tsakali space invaders.”
“To fight the Tsakali is certain death,” Hades said. “Especially for such a primitive species.”
Fiona grimaced. “Burn . . .”
“But back to the matter at hand,” my mom said. She pointed to Hades. “You’re going to be a lot more interested in helping us primitive humans defend our planet from the Tsakali if what remains of your people still, well, remains. Which means we need to find the parts to repair this place”—she swept out an arm to indicate the Omega site— “and to do that, we need to steal the chaos stone.”
“Or,” Emi cut in, giving my mom an exasperated look, “we could approach the UN and explain the situation like rational, civilized people. They're aware of the Custodes Veritatis, after all. They know life exists elsewhere in the universe. I believe they will listen, assess the threat, and grant us access to the chaos stone.”
My mom scoffed. “Or they’ll lock up Cora and Hades the first chance they get and start slicing them up into little pieces to find out exactly what makes them tick.”
Emi settled a flat stare on my mom. “That's a little extreme, don’t you think?”
“I think it's better to ask for forgiveness than permission,” my mom said, turning her attention from Emi to me, and then to Hades. “If we go to the UN, we'll be wasting valuable time talking when we could be doing.”
“I don't know,” Fiona said, chewing on her thumbnail. “I think Emi has a point.” She lowered her hand. “I mean, we're going to have to approach world leaders at some point about the impending space invaders, right? Wouldn't it be better to come to them without having to beg for forgiveness?”
I had to agree with Fiona on that point, though I didn’t say as much out loud.
My mom searched each of our faces, looking for support. When she found none, she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest like a sullen teenager. “Fine. We’ll do it Em’s way.”
I flashed my mom an apologetic smile, then looked to Emi. “Right, so, how exactly are we going to get the UN's attention?”
Crickets filled the room.
Suddenly, my mom rubbed her hands together, a manic grin spreading across her face. “I have the perfect plan.”
6
Henry. Henry Magnusson, leader of the Custodes Veritatis and certifiable asshole, was the key to my mom’s perfect plan. He already had the UN’s ear, and my mom claimed that feeding him just the right bits of intel about the danger the Tsakali posed to Earth was sure to persuade him to arrange an audience for us with the UN Security Council. If we convinced them that granting us access to the chaos stone would secure the planet’s safety, then they would order CERN to hand said chaos stone over.
Or so my mom claimed. I wasn’t so sure her crazy plan would work, but Emi agreed with her. Since Emi was by far the more cautious and level-headed of their odd-couple duo—and since nobody else had a better plan—we all agreed, and that was that.
“Alright, so,” my mom said, clapping her hands together and rubbing them vigorously back and forth, “I'll go make some calls, get things rolling.” She turned toward the stairway that would carry her up to the exit located between the Sphinx’s forelegs. “We'll need transport, and—”
I snagged her arm before she could pass me. “Mom, wait.”
She looked at me, her eyebrows raised in question.
“It’s the middle of the day.” I sent a pointed look up toward the ceiling and the great limestone monument acting as a tourist magnet directly above us before releasing her arm. “There’s a crap-ton of people up there . . .”
My mom’s lips parted, her eyes widening. “Oh, right.” She laughed to herself and shook her head. “It's easy to lose track of time down here.” She turned around and made a beeline for Emi, stopping to place a hand on Emi’s arm. “Help me figure out the best thing to say to Henry?”
Emi smiled faintly and nodded, and the two headed for the door panel leading deeper into the Omega site. Now that things were winding down, it was impossible for me not to notice Raiden’s attention had landed on me, and my mind raced to come up with some reason to postpone our little chat. Why did the Custodes Veritatis never attack when it was convenient for me—like when I was trying to avoid difficult personal conversations?
“Oh, and Diana,” Hades called after my mom.
My heart beat faster as I hoped that whatever Hades was about to say would delay the inevitable just a little bit longer.
My mom and Emi paused just this side of the doorway to look back at Hades.
“Transport will not be necessary,” Hades informed her. “We can take the Argo.”
My mom exchanged a look with Emi, curiosity written all over their faces. “And what, pray tell, is the Argo?”
“It's a paralus,” I said, stepping in with an explanation that would make sense to modern people. “It’s an all-terrain Olympian craft built for land, sea, and air travel, and it's equipped with cloaking technology, so we'll be able to travel undetected.”
My mom raised one eyebrow, her curiosity amplified to intrigue. “Well now, isn't that handy.” Her stare fixed on Hades. “Now that I think of it, I think it would be wise to make a list of the Olympian technologies you would be willing to trade for access to the chaos stone. Nearly every leader in this world would give their left arm to get their hands on something like the Argo.”
“As you say,” Hades said with a bow of his head. “I shall consider such a list carefully.”
Raiden’s stare was a laser burning a hole in the side of my face.
A brilliant idea popped into my head, and I blurted, “I need a shower.” Eyes locked on the door panel, I hurried from the control room. Once I had ducked into the safety of my private quarters, I stood in the middle of the cramped space and stared at the wall, my heart hammering in my chest.
I was a coward. I had always been a coward when it came to matters of the heart. One needed only to ask Hades why literal lifetimes of a deepening emotional connection and burning desire had gone unfulfilled.
I jumped at a knock on the door, spinning around and hugging my middle. It was Raiden, it had to be. He was here to call me out on my cowardice. To force me to confront the thing I had been running from since my two selves had become one—my heart.
My knees wobbled as I made my way back to the door. I took a single, shaky deep breath, relaxed my arms, then pressed the button on the side of the door. The panel slid open with a faint whoosh.
Raiden stood in the hallway, a hesitant smile curving his full lips, though it did nothing to ease the tension in his warm, brown eyes.
“Oh, hey,” I said, aiming for nonchalance and hitting awkward perfectly.
Raiden’s stare slid past me to the glorified closet of a room behind me. “Hey, Cora. Can I—” He pointed to the doorway.
“Oh!” I said, feigning surprise. Heat crawled up my neck and suffused my cheeks. “Yeah, of course. Sorry, I forgot about our, um—that we were going to talk.” Brow furrowing, I shook my head and stepped out of the way. I made a weak gesture with my arm, inviting him into the cramped space.
Raiden scanned the room as he entered, his eyes lingering on the unmade bed. The door panel snicked shut behind him. His scrutiny made me all too aware that this was his first time in here since we arrived five days ago. “So, this place was originally part of the Tartarus,” he said, his watchful gaze finally landing on me. “I guess that explains why it feels like we’re trapped in a spaceship,”
Nodding, I took a step backward to put some space between us. With his big body in here, the room seemed to shrink by the second. My shoulder blades touched the wall of storage compartments opposite the bed, and I leaned into it, tucking my hands behind my back. My stare drifted down to Raiden’s scuffed combat boots, looking so at odds with the shiny metal floor.
“Being here has been giving me flashbacks to my first cycle.” I glanced up at his face, just for a second. “I mean, my first lifetime. I spent all sixty years living on the Tartarus. It's hard to shake the feeling that we're actually hurtling through space right now, not parked on Earth, and that the world out there is all just a dream.”
Raiden leaned his shoulder against the door and crossed his arms over his chest, making his biceps bulge. I didn’t need to be looking at his face to know his stare was fixed on me. “Is that what this life feels like to you?” he asked. “Like a dream?”
The notes of loss and fear in his tone drew my eyes up to his. Cracks formed in my heart, and I opened my mouth, then shut it and shook my head. “That's not what I meant. It's just—” Again, I shook my head. Shoulders slumping, I pushed off the wall and trudged over to the bed. I sat on the edge, leaning forward to rest my forearms on my thighs, and sighed. “It's hard to explain,” I said, rubbing my hands over my face. Hiding from him.
Raiden sat beside me on the bed, close, but not touching. An electrified charge seemed to connect us, nonetheless.
I stiffened, my hands glued to my face.
“Listen, Cora,” Raiden started, his voice a gentle rumble. “I get that you might need some space after everything that happened, and I know Peri isn't exactly my biggest fan. The situation has changed, and I just want you to know I don't expect anything from you.” He was quiet for a moment. “At least, nothing like, well, you know . . .”
My blush resurfaced, and I groaned, hunching in on myself further. I peered at him from between my fingers. “You talk about Peri like she's someone else,” I said, my words slow and cautious. I lowered my hands, settling them on my knees, and looked at Raiden head-on. “Raiden, she's me.”
Raiden’s jaw clenched, and he swallowed repeatedly, his gaze leaving mine to search the ceiling. “So, my Cora really is gone,” he said, his voice monotone.
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the sting of tears to abate. I considered telling him yes. Telling him his Cora was gone. Maybe that would be easier. He could mourn the girl he'd grown up with and move on. He could mourn me. Except, I was still here. Still me. And I didn't want him to move on. Even thinking about losing him made me feel ill.
Opening my eyes, I looked at Raiden, studying the strong lines of his profile until I worked up the nerve to admit the truth. “Raiden, I am
your Cora.”
He was quiet for a long moment. We both were. But finally, he looked at me and said the thing that must have been picking away at him. “But you're also his Peri.”
I searched his eyes for several heartbeats, then sighed and rubbed the back of my neck with one hand. “Yeah, I am,” I said, a slight bite to my words. “I’m his Peri, and I’m your Cora. But it's not like I'm two people, like how you're thinking of it. It's more like I'm one person who's lived for a really, really long time, and who got knocked on the head twenty-six years ago and forgot who she was but kept on living. But now that my head is cleared and the amnesia is gone, those years are integrated into the rest of my life, and I’m back to just being me.” I let out a breathy laugh and shook my head. “I don't know if that made any sense at all.”
Raiden nodded to himself. “It does, kind of,” he said. “It's just hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that you've lived so many lifetimes. I mean, you look good for a nine-hundred-year-old.”
I snorted a laugh. I didn’t have the heart to tell him a little over one thousand would have been more accurate. “I do look good, don't I?”
Raiden flashed me a lopsided smile. “I just—I know you've been avoiding me. And I get it. This situation is awkward. I mean, I always thought if I found myself in this kind of situation, I'd just bow out. Like, nothing is worth that kind of drama.”
My stare dropped to the floor, and the air lodged in my lungs. This was it. He was going to end things between us, and I could hardly blame him for doing it.
Raiden blew out a breath and scrubbed his hands over his face. When he finally lowered his hands, he slumped forward. “I don't know how to compete with someone who quite literally brought you back from the dead,” he said. “I mean, the guy spent thousands of years trying to bring you back. I just—” He shook his head. “I can’t compete with that.”
I peeked at Raiden out of the corner of my eye. “Why does it have to be a competition?”
A dry laugh shook Raiden’s chest. “Polygamy just isn't my thing.”
Dreams of the Damned (Atlantis Legacy Book 3) Page 4