Epicenter

 

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Chapter 1

She was cold, hungry, and wanted nothing more than a cigarette. 

There was a pack set out on the warden's desk, calling out to her with a sickeningly sweet siren's song, and yet she could not, would not, bring herself to touch it. That would be quitting, and Jei Akagi wasn't a quitter. At least, that was what she told herself. 

The warden was a large man, too large for his body and too large for the room. Handsome, clean cut , and monstrous. The nameplate on the desk was blank, it's slot left clean save for the designation of rank. The last man who had been the warden before must have gone, and quickly. She knew that it had been her fault.

From what Jei could tell, she was the only prisoner in the facility. They must have pushed this nameless monster into the recently vacant position to watch over her. Special treatment for a special girl. Only the finest accommodations for the one responsible for the murders of the president and his entire cabinet.

Not that she had done any of that. Still, they thought she had, so there she was.

It was a bit minimum security for her tastes. Few guards, and as much privacy as she could possibly want. They let her wander the grounds until lights out every day, and fed her whatever she liked. Maybe they thought the relaxed surroundings would help her feel comfortable with confessing her crimes. But there was nothing to confess, and she was getting impatient. 

"Take one." The warden said, pushing the pack towards her.

"No." She replied nastily.

He folded his hands, gigantic hands meant for strangling or mauling or who knew what else, and sighed. "Coffee, then? Something to eat?"

She folded her legs underneath her, balancing in lotus pose on the edge of the chair, rocking herself slowly back and forth. The warden watched her silently. 

"Got a name?" She asked him.

"Reed." He replied.

"Do I look thirsty to you, Reed? Hungry?"

He didn't answer, instead taking one of the cigarettes for himself. Reed didn't light it, instead allowing it to dangle from his lips.  The pack disappeared into his breast pocket. The corners of his eyes were crosshatched with worry lines, instantly making him appear years older. She put him about ten years her senior, maybe in his mid to late thirties. 

"What?" She spat. "Not a talker? Don't know if you heard from the last guy, but neither am I."

Reed's eyes turned on her, nearly sending her toppling back into her seat. While his manner was composed, his dark brown eyes were alight with anger. "He doesn't work here anymore." He said.

Jei's stomach lurched, bile rising so that she could taste it. For all of her bravado, she was afraid. But she wouldn't allow him to see it. Never.

"So I see." She said slowly.

"Do you want out of here or not?" He asked, his tone even. His words danced the edge of a threat and a promise, and she wasn't sure she liked either.  It was better to answer than to fight.

"Of course." She sighed, pushing her hand through her hair. They had cut it short when she had been imrpisoned, and the reminder forced a distressed cry from her lips, which she smothered quickly, turning her attention back to Reed. "But I am not going to confess just to make that happen. First, I won't confess to something I am not responsible for, and second, I don't believe for a moment that I have any hope of getting out of here alive even if I do."

She was surprised they hadn't been done with her from the beginning. There had been no trial, no announcement of her rights. Laws as she knew them had been dissolved, and nothing - from the eerie normalcy of her life in the confines of the prison, to the emptiness, to the lack of response from the outside - was at it should be.

My life, defined. Jei swallowed the bile in her throat as the silence between them stretched thin.

Reed dug the pack of cigarettes from his pocket and slid them across the table. "Smoke. Talk with me. I promise that you'll want to listen to what I have to say."

She wanted to believe him, and distrust hadn't done anything for her lately, so she took the pack, fishing out a cigarette, and held it out to him for a light.  As archaic as they were, cigarettes were still one of life's simple pollutants that gave her some pleasure. In true, old fashioned form, Reed produced a pack of matches from his pocket, ripping one out and striking it against the rough edge on the outside. He offered her the flame first before taking it for himself, and smoke filled the room, rising up to circle the caged bulb in the ceiling's center, wrapping around the bars of the room's high window. The warden was a prisoner in this prison as much as she was, it seemed.

She inhaled deeply, tasting the bitterness and finding it a match.

"I would marry this cigarette if I could." She told him. He laughed a monster's laugh, rumbling throughout his chest, but not unpleasant.

"Seems like your type." He said, exhaling to the side in a stream. "So, are you ready to talk?"

"As ready as I am going to be."

He nodded. "So. Start at the beginning. The morning of your arrest, what happened? Spare no details." 

Reed reclined in his chair. The anger from before had faded as quickly as it had appeared, but despite this Jei felt the tension pulling strings tight across her spine, forcing her to sit high and making it difficult to breathe. To treat this, she pulled in more of the bitter smoke, holding it in for the space of several breaths.

And she told him.

***

Daryl left months ago.

I know you asked for what was happening on that day, but it all adds up right until the end. Where I was, who I was, what I was doing. They're all connected to that one fact.

We had agreed to try for a baby, and then he was gone. It was just like any other day, so I never expected it. He went to work, gave me a kiss on the way out and told me he'd see me soon. I went to class, then my shift at the Drop Out - that's a bar in downtown Savias - right after that. I came home and he wasn't there. No note, nothing. Sometimes he worked late, so I didn't worry.  Not at first.

I woke up the next day and he hadn't come home. Same thing happened the next day. And the next. Days became weeks, then months. He disconnected his phone. I stopped by his office and asked if he had been in, if they'd sent him on a trip. That happened sometimes. No one seemed to know who he was, and wouldn't discuss the names of the people on their payroll. They said I was acting suspicious and I had to leave. Can you imagine?

I contacted people he knew to see if they had seen him. His friends acted like they didn't know him, mutual friends acted like they didn't know me either. We'd known each other for years. There was nothing in the news, the police wouldn't take a missing person's report. I figure they knew more than I did, maybe that he didn't want to be followed. Sometimes I fantasized that he had been a witness to a big murder, you know? That he'd been put into immediate witness protection, and that I wasn't allowed to know where he was. 

I was cut off from everyone and everything, and that was just how I wanted it. I began to wonder if he'd ever existed. Maybe I'd lost my mind. The stress pushed off my cycle and I thought I was pregnant. I wasn't, of course, which ended up being more of a relief than it should have been, considering how much I'd wanted it before. The first few weeks, I wanted him to come back. The last few, I just wanted answers. In the days leading up to the raid, I didn't want anything more to do with him. I put the apartment up for sale. Nice place in the University District, if you're interested.

I'd considered dropping out of school, quitting my job. Maybe start my life somewhere else. I'd never been dumped before, much less like that. It hurt more than I'd ever thought it would. Sometimes, I would just curl up in the bed, hoping to find traces of his scent there. It's pathetic, I know, but that was the only time that I could manage to get some sleep. It reminded me that he had been real, that I hadn't lost my mind. 

I just wasn't worth it - not to him. 

When they broke in, that was what I was doing. Dreaming of a husband that wasn't coming back. Wallowing in my self pity. Call me surprised when the next thing I knew I was being accused of murder.  Then they shoved my head into a black bag, tossed me in the back of the van. I hit my head pretty hard. When I came to, I was here. It's been that way ever since.

***

Reed's brow was raised, his cigarette smoldering down to the filter. "That's a bit different than the story that we were told."

Jei traced the remains of her cigarette along the edge of his desk, wearing an ironic smile. "Do you mind if I ask just what that was? You know, since we're being so candid with each other."

"Simply put, that you had vanished from work and school, becoming reclusive and dangerous. Any contact that you made with people was desperate and demented." Reed leaned forward, meeting her eyes. "That during that time frame you were plotting the assassination. That you were found in the throes of insanity in your home when it was over."

Jei snorted. "Reclusive, desperate. Yeah. That's right. But dangerous? Killing people? Sir, you've got the wrong girl."

"I believe you." He said.

Somehow, she hadn't expected that.

 

Until now, each person had thrown accusations as easily as drawing breath. They’d sent in psychiatrists to evaluate her, and while she had shared her story with them, each one seemed to believe that she was unstable, unfit, dangerous and violent. Daryl Trenholm, the man she had married, did not exist, and never had. Her requests to see her father had been denied. And while her stay had been comfortable physically, she had not been happy. Her human rights, to fair trial and representation, simply did not exist. Something, she knew, wasn’t right.

“Why?” she asked him. “After all of this time, why is someone only now willing to listen? Why do you believe me, and no one else would?”

Reed stood, his height engulfing the room, blocking the light from the window and forming a hazy halo around his figure. “Because,” He said, as the shadows hid his face from her eyes. “I know Daryl Trenholm.”

***

The name almost slipped off of the tongue.

It had been his mother’s name, and his grandfather before her. But they were known by another name:

Gemini.

The name was given to those with the gift to slip in and out of society, to ride in the boat but never to make waves. Their features, unmemorable, their presence - easily forgotten. It was the name of a person that anyone might know, but could never remember. A face without a name, and a name without a face.

That was how he was.

It hadn’t been his intention to fall in love. Especially not with her. He had been ordered to watch her, to guide her, to prepare her – but never to love her. The Hammer had nearly been done with him when he’d found out, but in Daryl’s life, nothing had ever been more important.

Not that it mattered, in the end.

***

“How?” Jei balked at Reed, not believing what she was hearing. “If you knew, if anyone knew, how could I be left here?’

“Because they wanted you not to be found.” Reed replied, his fingers digging into his left temple.

“Who?” She spat. Jei could feel her temper piquing, rising up inside of her so that every sense was alight with fire. Her head throbbed, and she pawed at the pack of cigarettes, reaching for another.

He sighed. “I can’t say. All I can tell you is that we found you, and that we’re going to get you out of here.”

Jei fell silent while the rage boiled in her gut. She looked down to her hands and found them trembling. As she stared at them, motes of glass seemed to dance before her eyes as they filled with tears. She refused to let them fall.

There were many things she wanted to ask him, most of them filled with spite. Why did it take them so long? How did he know Daryl? Why did he leave? What did this all have to do with each other?

But when she spoke, her voice wavered, “Where is my dad? Calvin. Is he all right? Does he know that I am safe? That I’m alive?”

He must have watched her warring emotions, as his relief was obvious when the questions finally came. “Yes. He is with Jeremiah. He is safe, and he knows that we’ve found you.”

The tears came unbidden and hard, and Jei hunched over, gripping her knees as they fell. Calvin, her adopted father, was the foundation of her life, just as she was his. Knowing that he was safe, and that he did not need to worry on her, was a relief that she did not know she needed.

“Jer.” She whispered, looking to Reed. “You know him?” Her father’s best friend had been like a second father to her.

He was at her side, placing both immense hands on her shoulders. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and he squeezed her, offering reassurance. “He’s very dear to me.” He replied. “Probably almost as much as he is to you.”

“Why haven’t I seen you until now?” She sniffed.

“There are reasons. I’m not at liberty to say, not yet anyway.”

“What happened to everyone else? The guards changed. The warden changed.” She looked around the office, suddenly feeling very small and very vulnerable. The instinct to fall into his arms was very strong, but she wouldn’t allow herself to succumb to it. She would wait, until her father came to get her.

Why was this happening?

“Now is not the time.” Reed said quietly. “Once we are gone. Once you are safe, then we can talk. Soon, we’ll need to go. Did they have any of your things?”

She rubbed her nose against the length of her forearm, forgetting herself for a moment as she stared at his shoes. Nice, leather shoes. “No. Just me. What I was wearing. I’m lucky they gave me these to wear.” She picked at the nondescript gray jumpsuit she’d been provided, the nightgown she’d worn on the night of the rain a distant memory.

He nodded, then pulled open the door.

“Then let’s go.”

***

“Jeremiah,” Jei squealed, lifting her arms overhead and begging the man to lift her into the air. “Up! Please?”

He laughed brightly. “How could I tell you no?”

He was broad, shorter than Calvin but twice the girth, all of it built in muscle. He kept his golden blonde hair clipped short and combed, and wore a well-tended moustache, which tickled whenever he kissed her cheek. As he lifted her onto his shoulders, she could see her father approaching from the dune behind, his sandy peppered hair covered with his dustcoat. He was slight of build, tall and wiry, and even beneath the hood she could spy the laugh lines that framed his blue eyes, a fairer shade than Jeremiah’s that remaindered her so much of the morning desert sky.

As Calvin approached, he reached up to ruffle the mop of her fine black hair, clasping his friend on the shoulder with his other hand.

“She’s all right?” He’d asked.

“I’d say so.” Jeremiah replied, bouncing her on his shoulders and making her squeal. “No harm done.”

“Good.” Calvin said with a sigh.

Jei peered down at him, her amber gold eyes alight with curiosity. “What’s the matter, daddy?”

Calvin smiled, shaking his head slowly. "Nothing, now."

But as he studied his face, Jei found the tracks of tears had cleaned the dust in small streams on his cheek. She reached out to him, her tiny hand finding his skin damp. She drew her lips into a pout. "Did I make you sad?"

"You could never." He replied. "I was worried, but not sad."

"But I just wanted to see Mama." Jei said. "You said that I could find her."

Every night for as long as she could remember, Calvin told her stories of the mother that she never knew. When asked where she was, he told her that her mother lived in the spot where the sun touched the earth at the end of each day, in a golden door of light where heaven could be found. 

"Oh, no, sweetheart. That door is only there for people who are ready to go to Heaven. You wouldn't be able to open it yet. Not for a long, long time." He lowered his voice, speaking to Jeremiah. "Thank God. I thought they had found her."

"I wouldn't let that happen. Not on my life." Jeremiah told him, adjusting the little girl on his shoulders. "So long as I live, she's safe."

***

Since then, his blonde had faded nearly to gray, and lines had formed on his face, writing in years of age. He still wore the mustache that she loved so well, and when he pulled her close and brushed his lips against her forehead, she giggled in spite of herself, tears spilling unhindered down her cheeks.

"You know I'm not crazy, right?" She sobbed. "Daryl was real. All of it was real."

"Too real, sugar." Jeremiah told her. "And it only gets more real from here on in. Do you trust me?"

She gazed upon his aged face with reverence, nodding earnestly. "Of course. Of course I do."

Something stirred behind his sky-blue eyes, a hint of regret?  "Then let me get you out of here. Go with Reed and Gus. Calvin and I will meet you there."

Another man, smaller and almost feminine, appeared in the doorway. His ears were tapered and long, his eyes a swirling green, seemingly filled with smoke. An Alderian, then? He seemed young, younger than she was, though it was always hard to tell with their kind. They aged so slowly he could very well have been older  than all of them combined.  He wore a carefully pressed suit the same color as his fair, nearly white hair, a pack slung across his shoulder. He shared a smile with Reed before approaching her, offering her the pack.

"Clothes. Shoes. We thought you might want to change." The man named Gus said, his voice warm and melodic. Jei trusted him instantly, though she wondered if she should.

"Thanks." She told him, accepting the bundle and digging around inside, looking at the contents. Not once did she move far from Jeremiah. "Will you tell me what's happening, then?"

"I will." Jeremiah promised.  "Now get changed. There are things I need to finish here, before I go."

The sudden changes gave her little room for doubt. He was her protector, her friend.  However he had come here, at this time and this place, did not matter despite the nagging questions that nibbled at her mind. She dipped into the cell that had been her home over the last several months, opening the pack and dumping the contents onto the bed that, God willing, she would never need to sleep in again.

Black jeans, a black tank top and black sneakers with yellow laces. These were items from her own wardrobe, and she wondered how they came by them. Removing the jumpsuit and slipping into her own clothes felt like a change of skin, and for the first time in months she felt almost herself.

The three men were talking in hushed voices as she exited the cell, turning her way and splitting apart as she approached. It was obvious that she had interrupted, but she could hardly bring herself to care.  

Jeremiah approached, patting her squarely on the back. "You okay with this, sugar?"

She nodded.

"Let's get the fuck out of here." Jei replied.

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Chapter 2

The throbbing just behind the eyes was the most disorienting of all. 

Cherry wood. Exotic, and expensive. Trees did not grow here, and so the desk before him was a national treasure. It had been gifted by the president of Rushan to commemorate the founding of the largest countries, celebrating the success of Human migration. This desk had traveled all of the way from Earth, for whatever good it did them. 

Most other days he would have coveted such an expensive –no, priceless, item. Now, sitting behind it and squeezing his fingers into the arms of the supple (and equally exotic) leather chair in which he was seated, he simply wanted to bang his head against its expertly polished surface until the wood splintered and the damned headache passed. 

Two days now. 

The curtains were drawn shut to block out the sun, leaving him both in darkness and in solitude. He could almost feel them – the press, the “advisers”, and even him, pushing in on him from the outside. But their presence could not permeate these walls. Inside this office he was alone. Inside, he was safe. 

His knuckles had gone white from gripping the chair, and he moved them, palms flat, to the surface of the desk. The tattoos that had covered the back of his hands had been smartly removed. His heart surged in my chest – a lost memory alerting him that their absence was somehow wrong. He’d forgotten. Again. 

On the surface of the desk a small smudge of blood still remained, a grim reminder of who had been its previous owner. A flash of white exploded behind his eyes, and he doubled forward, at nose level with the offending stain. He could almost smell it, could almost touch it and taste the coppery bitterness of it with his tongue. He bit back revulsion and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the pain to subside. 

He could not hide for much longer. Soon, it would all start again. The cameras and the reporters. The anger and the confusion. The questions. The smile. The reassurance that it would all be okay. Another mask, another performance. 

He was so tired. 

A knock came at the door, and he lifted his head. It felt as though it weighed a hundred pounds. “Yes.” he called. 

“Mr. President?” A woman’s voice came. Nerissa, damn her. “Mr. Jinzan is requesting to see you.” 

He bit my tongue. He was the last person that he wanted to see. He would just complicate things further. He would make a mess of everything. 

“Tell Elias to come in,” He responded, clearing the cobwebs from his voice. Despite the pulsing inside of his skull he stood and drew back the thick black curtain. The sun beat down on the sprawl of the city and the desert beyond, and it took all of his concentration to keep from vomiting as light flooded his vision. Stars danced angrily. He turned towards the office, now bathed in harsh light. 

Nerissa’s voice came more softly from the other side. “It isn’t Elias, Daryl. It’s Marcaim.” 

Bile filled Daryl's mouth. This was worse. Far worse. He let himself fall into the chair, and did not reply. Despite this the door slid open, allowing the youngest Jinzan brother entry into my office. 

He was not a tall man, and unlike his brother, Marcaim was soft around the edges, though no less intimidating. They, as brothers, had their similarities. Black hair, dark olive skin and deep amethyst colored eyes. Marcaim kept his wave of hair at shoulder length in modern fashion which nearly hid the pointed tips of his ears, and wore a smartly pressed gray suit with soft lilac pinstripes. A royal purple vest and lilac tie punctuated the outfit with color. He was the only Alderian Daryl had ever met who was capable of growing a beard, and he wore it, along with a charming smile, well. 

They called Marcaim “The Rose”.

"Daryl." He said, his tone even. "I'm surprised to see you here."

Daryl's stomach lurched, but he had his role to play. Gone was the man he was before, just as so many times before. Now, he was Furnarl's newest president, and he would conduct himself as such. "It's a pleasure to see you, Marcaim. Please, take a seat." He added, mildly. "And please, don't call me Daryl."

"Ah." Marcaim said as he slipped into the comfortable leather chair in front of the desk, crossing his legs comfortably. "That will be difficult, my old friend. That was the name I always knew you by, no matter which face you wore. And it is the name that your wife knows you by."

The choice was to slip further into character, or to take the bait. It was an easy choice. "I never married." The man who no longer called himself Daryl replied. 

"So, it's to be one of these, is it?" Marcaim linked his fingers, folding his hands in his lap. "Well, then. Married or not, I thought I might come to tell you that she is alive and well. Take that information and do with it as you will."

The President,  as he was known, simply shook his head sadly. "Attempting to gain political foothold in these troubled times by using a woman who claims to be my wife would hardly be wise. Our country needs stability, not chaos."

"Chaos you shall have, and in abundance." The Rose said with a knowing smile. "I think I'll go to meet her, shall I? Perhaps if you're lucky, she will play the same hand and pretend that you never existed. But - " He leaned forward, the swirling amethyst in his eyes dancing playfully. "I think you and I both know that she would never do that."

The President lifted his head, the ache sending sparks flying in his field of vision. He spoke thinly, his voice strained with both pain and annoyance. “Sir, you’re threatening this country’s figurehead and highest leader. You may want to rethink your words.”

Nerissa would be waiting outside, though she would not act against Marcaim without Elias’ command. Despite everything, Elias and Marcaim were brothers, and the Hammer had forbidden any harm to come to his family, no matter how far removed their purposes might be. This fact was well known to the brothers, the youngest of whom would push the boundaries as far as they would go.

Like now, Daryl thought glumly.

“There are a lot of things I would urge you to rethink, Daryl Trenholm.” Marcaim warned. “Your allegiances, first of all. That, I think, would put everything else in its rightful place.”

Marcaim was an idealist, hardly the stuff a crimelord should be made of. The eldest brother Elias has long been after the mantle of the Jinzan family’s leadership, but when their father had died, Marcaim had been the one to inherit it. It was said that Elias was too ruthless, and Seren too neutral. It was only natural that even the soft-hearted Marcaim would be selected by the council to be their father’s replacement.

The years had hardened him considerably, but his ideals were far too kind for Elias’ personal flavor. That was why, like now, the Hammer acted without his brother’s permission. And that was why he had come.

 

His warnings jingled inside of Daryl’s aching head, though not quite taking root. Even amidst the throes of the worst migraine of his life, he would not allow himself to be any less than his best. This, at its worst, would be his final mission, and he would take it as seriously as all of the others. Even if the heart that he kept padlocked and hidden was breaking.

Marcaim stood smoothly, taking a brief moment to fix his tie. "Well then," Marcaim said. "I think our business is concluded, don't you?"

Daryl let out the breath that he had been holding when he was gone.

Nerissa was soon to follow, scanning the office with her single eye. The other was hidden behind the patch, the remains of a jagged scar peeking out across her forehead and on her cheek. She kept her long, aqua hair pulled in a tight ponytail, flowing down her back. The color was a signature of Alderian hybrid, her slightly tapered ears prominent and decorated with a trail of small silver loops. She was unrealistically beautiful, favoring her Alderian side, her skin milk-white and eye, while solid and lacking the shifting colors of her fair heritage, was a stunning sea green. She pursed her lips, painted purple, fixing him with an agitated expression.

“This isn’t good.” She said.

Daryl could have laughed if it weren’t so very true. “No. No, it isn’t.”

“Elias is going to throw a tantrum.” Nerissa frowned.

“Better you tell him than me, then. If he thought that he would pull this off under Marcaim’s nose, he was very, very wrong.”

“I heard everything.” Nerissa said. “You know this means that he turned Cancer against us.”

Daryl sighed. With Marcaim gone, he could stop with the pleasantries. One by one the curtains were closed, bathing the room in darkness. “I know.” He replied. “And it breaks my heart.”

“What about your wife?”

His lip turned in a snarl. “He’ll leave her out of it, if he knows what’s good for him.”

Her steps padded across the carpet, approaching him slowly. “We both know that won’t happen. If he’s turned Cancer, then he’ll go for her next.”

“Look into the prison for me, then.” Daryl said, waving his hand dismissively. “They shouldn’t have had the chance to find it.”

“As you say.” She bowed, her hands crossed ceremoniously over her chest, and was gone.

The relief was immediate as the last sliver of light disappeared behind the door, leaving him in complete darkness. He slumped in his chair, loosening his tie and timing out each breath, focusing on ridding himself of the pain. He knew that he was kidding himself: if Marcaim had placed Cancer in charge of collecting her, it was already as good as done. Somehow, a part of him had hoped that it wouldn’t come to this.

It’s the most that you deserve, for wanting for yourself. Daryl thought, then lost himself to the voice of the President, forgetting for the moment what it was to love.

***

They traveled by night, the lamps of the car turned off for privacy. The desert flew past her in a haze. The prison had not been dirty, but it hardly held the fresh air that now whipped in her face, and she hung her head out of the window, letting the cool air whip her hair back, filling her ears with sound. Their destination would have them on the move until well in the morning, but she could not bring herself to sleep. They were kind, but still strange to her, and while Jeremiah trusted them she did not wish to be caught off guard. Not when she was finally free.

It allowed her time to think, though she'd had plenty of that recently. The irritation and anger had faded, allowing her thoughts to settle, the questions that had been buzzing flies before finally floating to the surface. She would hold them, save them for later. For the moment, it was better to savor the freedom for what it was - a gift, in thanks for enduring the unfair punishment she had been given.

Her fist closed around a small object, given to her by Jeremiah before they had left the prison. A communicator, which would allow her to reach out to him privately until he could bring Calvin to meet them. The prison had been settled in the True Desert, far from civilization, and from what Reed had told her, hundreds of miles from Savias - her home. 

Furnarl was not much more than desert, but it was a wealth of resources that the other nations coveted. They were entirely energy independent, soaking in constant sunlight, blessed with plentiful wind power, and the most precious of them all - the crude oil which lay beneath the desert's surface. Their dependence upon it for energy had dwindled, but its other uses were the envy of other countries without it. As a result of their harsher environment, the large metropolises spread out from five oases in the small country's borders. The areas in between were nearly empty, home only to indigenous creatures and the desert-maddened gangs that roamed the main roads that kept the metropolises connected.

They were not on any of these roads, putting them in even greater danger of coming across one of the gangs. This was their territory. The car crossed the land in mile-eating speed, somehow still silent, the sound melting into the heavy night winds.

"Where are we going?" She asked the two men up front as she pulled her head inside the window. They jerked apart, and it was only then she realized that they had been holding hands. Reed sat in the passenger side, nearly engulfing the entire front of the car with his size. And yet now he seemed to shrink in on himself, as though she was their mother and had walked in on them doing something naughty. Gus cleared his throat.

"Our people have a hideout here." He told her. "A few hours more. You should try to get some sleep, until we get there."

"Ah." Jei said, a slow smirk curling her lips. "I'm not tired, but I promise I won't tell anyone. Just don't let me catch you swapping spit. That would be awkward."

Reed coughed, redirecting his eyes towards the passenger side window.

Still, the lure of sleep was a heavy one. With a soft laugh, Jei closed her eyes, settling into the seat. The car was an expensive one, all plush heated leather and needless premium features. No sooner had she begun to drift did Daryl's face swim into her half-waking mind, and she let out a grunt, sitting upright. It could not have been more than five minutes, but she was sweating, cold and clammy, her heart racing. Every time it had been like this, until she was too tired to fight it off any longer and sleep finally came.

It wouldn't for now. For the rest of the ride, several hours as Gus had promised, she rehearsed conversations of how she would tell Calvin of what happened. She also fought with Daryl, imagining that he had come before her and she could finally give him the verbal thrashing - and probably a physical one, too - that he deserved. 

As sunlight kissed the dunes to the east, Jei thought of her mother. She'd never known Eiko Akagi, but each sunrise and sunset was met with the promise that she would someday meet her. The empty desert soon made rise to buildings, the edges of a metropolis, with it's farms and oil ranches.  They were spread far apart here, with miles between them, the closest neighbor could hardly hear the whir of the other's equipment in the distance.

Gus pulled the car into the long driveway of one such oil ranch, but once underneath the carport, the ground beneath them gave way. Jei shrieked, then flushed with embarrassment as the two men simply smirked their knowing smirks, knowing full well that this would happen. A lift carried the car below ground and into darkness, until it hit the bottom and a dimly lit tunnel, wide enough for this car and perhaps two others. Gus accelerated slowly.

"Hideout," Jei muttered. "Right."

"Everyone jumps the first time." Reed said.

"How often do you need to break out prisoners?" She replied snapishly, not happy with having been taken by surprise.

Reed chuckled. "More often than I'd like, but less often than you would probably think."

They crept forward, soon entering what appeared to be an underground garage. There were a number of other cars, all matching the one that she was riding in, parked in a series of spaces. Only two were empty, and Gus pulled into the furthest right. There were motorcycles as well lined up in a neat row. The one at the end caught her eye - a bright yellow motorcycle imitating the ancient Japanese make, all soft curves and elegant construction. 

Shockwave. Her bike.

"How did he get here!?" She demanded, fighting with the door handle - but it stayed fast. Jei flushed in embarrassment, fumbling for the lock. "That's my bike!"

Gus laughed lightly. "Noticed that, hm? When we found out we were bringing here, we took the liberty of bringing some of your things. Shockwave is only one of them. Surely you noticed the clothes were yours, too."

They had raided her apartment. "That's....creepy." She added. 

Gus shrugged as they all filed out of the car. "It goes with the job." He told her.

She ran to Shockwave, finding him immaculate - probably even better when she had last left him. The scratch from where she had laid him down taking too tight of a turn had been painted over, or maybe the entire panel had been replaced. Either way, he looked perfect. Tears were stinging her eyes as she caressed the white leather seat. She hadn't realized how dear something like her motorcycle had been to her. Seeing even a small piece of her previous life made her feel more complete than she had in months.

Blinking the tears away, she turned to Gus and Reed, who motioned her to follow them. "What exactly is it that you guys do?"

They traded glances as they lead her from the garage, down a narrow hallway. There were few doors, but rather than the haphazard and cold environment she expected, this seemed as warm and polished as any of the office buildings one could find in Central Savias.  If she had not known she was underground, she would not have been able to tell the difference.

There were curious symbols marking the wooden doors as she passed, and she recognized them from Ancient Greek myths, the curved horns of Aries, the flowing waters of Aquarius. Twelve in all, six on either side. At the end of the hall they took a turn. The doors this way we're spread further apart and unmarked, some doorways without any doors at all. They walked by what curiously appeared to be a large kitchen and dining room, another room filled with leisure items; a grand piano, a pool table, a set of large leather couches and a wall mounted television. Motion sensing lights flickered on as they moved past, illuminating the hallway and the empty rooms. Gus paused in front of an unmarked door, motioning for Jei to approach.

"We've calibrated this door to your fingerprint and retinal signature." He explained. "You will be able to have some privacy here."

It should have occurred to her that these very personal things should not have been easily available to her, but the sudden changes had left her mind in a fog. She sensed the wrongness of it as she placed her index finger on the reader to the right of the door, the laser light scanning her face, then beeping in recognition.  The door clicked, then swung open.

"How did you -" Jei started, falling silent when she looked into the room inside.

Her room.

It was smaller, and lacked the balcony which walked out into the Savias University district, but all of the furniture; the king sized bed she shared with Daryl, down to the black comforter and gray pillow cases, the sleek imitation ebony chest of drawers with matching framed mirror, even the plants which Daryl had cultivated from seedlings shipped from Rushan, were all there. 

Even his scent.

Jei hated how easily she wore her emotions, stepping into the room to avoid having her tears, now falling freely, seen by Reed and Gus who waited like sentries behind her. Her mouth hung open in wordless thanks and protest. She spun on her heel as Reed cleared his throat.

"I am sure that you have a lot d questions." The large man said. 

"Only one." Jei replied, her voice trembling. "How?"

 ***

Furnarl. The endless desert. How the Alderians of old managed to make anything of the savage landscape was a wonder. Framed on three sides by an unpassable mountain range, it took the human gift of flight to finally bring growth of wealth and culture to the stagnating land. The nomadic Alderians came together with the humans in their modern cities, and together they prospered.

However also with the humans came their greed. Like on Earth before it, they gobbled up all of the natural resources they could find, creating monopolies and inflating costs on commodities which had once cost nothing. Alderians of pure blood, the planets native sentients, were becoming scarce. Humans and Hybrids engulfed them, scattering the old ways and placing a capitalist empire in their place. As it was in Furnarl, it was across the world. 

The sudden technological uplift of a previously tribal culture created tensions that could not be easily mended. While some Alderians embraced the change, feeling that it was crucial to their continued existence, those who favored the old ways splintered off, returning to the nomadic traditions and spurning their modernized kin.

Relations with humanity as a result were highly strained for the first several generations, until the Hybrid offspring of both Alderian and Human radicals came to take up over twenty-five percent of the worldwide population. Nearly everyone now born has a relative in either one of the pure bloodlines, and is likely to be diluted in some way. This results in gifts such as inhuman beauty, night vision, heightened agility, and in rare cases, the ancient Alderian bloodlines have been known to have dual organs, predominantly the double heart.

A strange reasoning for the high number of Hybrids in the population is the Alderian belief in the Soulmate. Their numbers had begun dwindling when partners refused to mate with those who did not share the other half of their soul. It was said that a half of a mated pair would know when it met the other, as their destinies were forever intwined. The radial Alderians believed they had found a high number of Soulmates in the recently migrated Human population from Earth, and therefore, it was their destiny to intertwine the species. There have been small wars and land disputes fought over these highly coveted Soulmate relationships.

Meanwhile, there are Purists on either side which insist that the bloodlines must stay as they were. The majority of Humans transferred from the Earth to the new colony were male, and so very few breeding females were present. Cloning therefore became a common practice, along with the tradition of genetic engineering. This enabled pure racial bloodlines to stay prevalent, even after generations of interbreeding would have generally filtered them from the population. Thus, African, Eastern and Western European, Asian, Northern, Meso and South American bloodlines are still in existence, even so long after colonization.

Those with pure bloodlines are considered a treasure, and are generally afforded higher privileges than other people without provocation.

From A Study of Species - Post Human Migration to Aldeverran - by Michael Long.

***

Jei curled herself around the well-worn book, slipping in and out of a wakeful sleep. Despite having read its words dozens of times, she was always comforted by the words inside and the scent of its pages. While most written materials were digitized, she preferred to have a solid book in her hands, to use her thumb to flip through the pages. Most people didn’t take pleasure in reading textbooks, but Jei found it almost therapeutic.

She had been left with more questions than answers from her caretakers. At least, she thought, they were trustworthy. Whatever cat had their tongue must have been vicious.

The days had crawled by, and she hardly left her room save to shower or eat. The hideout was not so far removed from the prison that she had just left behind. Gus and Reed were the only ones that she had seen come and go, the only thing keeping her here were her belongings, and the knowledge that Jeremiah and Calvin would be coming for her soon.

A knock came at the door; Jei had quickly become familiar with their individual sounds, and Gus was waiting behind. Uncurling from her book, she stretched, grabbing the knob and pulling the door open.

“They’re here.” Gus said. His swirling eyes were unfocused, his posture discomforted. She did not why her presence troubled him so much, but his lover - Jei decided that was what Gus was to Reed, based on their mannerisms - was far more amiable.  She had taken to staying in her room to avoid awkward confrontations like this over the last several days.

Gus led her to the break room, where Jeremiah laid back on one of the leather couches, a white cloth strung about his eyes, his gloved hands resting against his chest. His breathing was shallow, and she wondered if he was sleeping when he lifted the cloth, managing a wink, before covering his eyes again. They were ringed with an angry red that had little to do with sleep.

Her heart fell silent when she saw her father. Calvin could never relax, not even in his own home, and he was pacing the room in long strides. When he saw her his frown melted, and he opened his arms to her. Without thought, Jei obliged him, falling into his comforting embrace.

"Thank God you're alright." He said. It was too low for the other men to hear, but he never needed to speak loudly in her presence. Her hearing was so sharp that she could hear the legs of a scorpion against sand.  She clutched the fabric of his green mechanic's jacket, a piece of clothing even older than her twenty-five years, and buried her face into the collar and he rubbed her back gently, holding her in silence for a short time.

Jeremiah cleared his throat, his voice raspy when he spoke. "We need to talk, kiddo."

Calvin's arms tensed around her, then relaxed. She looked upon his weathered feature, her eyebrow posing an unspoken question. He replied with a stonefaced frown, simply shaking his head and unraveling himself from her, motioning her towards where Jeremiah sat.

His manner unsettled her.

"What is it?" She asked. "Will we be going home?"

A stranger's voice called from the doorway, smooth and confident. It sent scorpions running down her spine.

"I'm afraid not, Miss Akagi. I have a job for you."

 

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Chapter 3

Jei did not like him.

The dark-haired Alderian had cornered them into one of the unmarked rooms, filled with a long ovular table, it's surface covered with discarded paper, around which sat thirteen chairs - six on either side, and one at the head. This is where the man now sat, his fingers steepled, his elbows resting on the table's surface. He smiled at her, the amethyst orbs of his eyes swirling with mischief, and motioned for her to sit. She ignored him.

Calvin and Jeremiah, even Reed and Gus, had not been permitted to follow. Jei hated the feeling of being cornered, and hated the man's smug smile even more. This was a game of cards in which her hand was poor, but she had no choice but to play. Everyone else had folded, and her opponent was a master of the bluff. 

So she would bluff too. It was all she had.

"I will make this easy." He said, his tone lilting. To Jei, he seemed fond of hearing himself speak. "My name is Marcaim Jinzan."

It was a name that everyone in the world knew, but no one believed that anyone actually belonged to it. A myth, like the dragons which Alderians were meant to have evolved from. She didn't believe it for a moment.

"How does someone like you know Calvin?" She asked him icily.

"I don't. Not officially. My associate, Cancer - Jeremiah, as you know him, has known your father for many years, and through him we are acquainted. Until today, this was the first time we have met directly."

He was baiting her, so she remained silent, waiting for him to feed her more.

Marcaim lifted one of the abandoned papers, regarding it cooly over the thin golden rims of his glasses. He was handsome, confident, and was not bothered at all by her indifference. He continued, playing off of her deflection with ease

"I understand you have known Jeremiah your entire life. I will tell you now, that was mostly my going. My father had a small hand in the assignment, but I thought to follow through. Someone so valuable as you should not be allowed to fall into the wrong hands. Which is why, my dear, you are here."

Jei snapped. "I am not 'your dear'. Stop playing with me. You know I have no idea what is happening, and you're trying to goad me into begging you for answers. I won't! All I want is to take my dad, leave this pit, and go home. The only thing I want to know is why I'm not allowed to do that."

Marcaim quirked a brow, his smile never waving. "You aren't curious why you were imprisoned? Why we brought you here? What happened to your husband?"

Jei started, her fists clenched. "Stop it." She growled. "Shut up."

"But you are, aren't you? Curious, that is. Even now, I have given you more questions that you don't yet have the answers. Taurus and Virgo were kind enough to keep our secrets for now, despite your insistence. But why am I, who has all of the answers that you seek, become so worthy of your scorn?"

Jei's knuckles were white, her fists shaking with frustration. She could feel the anger pulsing behind her eyes, sending sparks flying. 

He was right, but she would not tell him that.

Marcaim gestured to the seat nearest to him. "Sit. Relax. Talk with me."

She gripped the back of one of the chairs, her fingers digging into the supple leather, causing it to creak beneath her touch. She shook her head curtly, unable to look him directly in the eye. Instead, she focused her attention on the table's center, on a single written word scrawled on one of the pages.

"Gemini." She read it aloud.

He had opened his mouth to speak, the word having somehow startled the Rose into silence. His smile faded, expression melting into something genuine, something almost forlorn. "I will admit." He said. "We did not wish for it to ever go this far. Consider my words with an open mind. This will be the only time I tell you this."

The shift in his tone had piqued her interest. Slowly, she returned his gaze.

"Do it." She said.

***

You are special.

You always were. Very little of it was kept from you. Surely, you noticed that there were no other children with eyes of the same color. Even Hybrid children are not born with golden yellow eyes like yours. Perhaps at a sleepover, you realized that your friends needed their nightlights, that they were afraid of the dark. For you, there was little difference in your sight between night or day. Your hearing, sharp. Your movements, deliberate.

You were born to kill.

That you haven't is a miracle. Your mother was recruited, in dire need of food, money and a home, to become a part of a genetically manufactured breeding program. When she realized the sort of intention the program's benefactor had for the children, she spirited away with you, returning to Furnarl to the only person she thought that she could trust: Calvin Strider. This man, you know of course, as your father.

Your mother's whereabouts did not remain secret for long. My father, Nikolai the Vile, became aware of the project in which your mother took part, and sent his most trusted enforcer - Cancer - to keep her, and you, safe.

Do not ask why. It is not your place to know why our Family became involved. You need only know that it was necessary. 

Throughout your life, our Family has had our hands shaping your future. After my Father's death, I inherited this task. You were never normal, though you tried quite hard to be. Our most sincere wish for you was that you could live, happily and normally, without our interference. Cancer - Jeremiah - grew to love you as though you were one of his own daughters. In a way, although you could never know it, you were a part of us. We cared for you.

But circumstances have changed. It has now fallen upon me to call upon your given purpose - your raison d'etre - and ask for your help.

You were bred to be an assassin. I need you to become a leader.

***

"No." Jei said, unbelieving. She was denying what he asked of her, and denying his words. She repeated it, over and over again, shaking her head. "What in the world could you possibly need me for? This doesn't make any sense. Not even a week ago, I was being accused of killing the president."

Her closed fists slammed onto the table, sending papers flying. "No one has explained to me why this happened. Whether or not it was real. Why Daryl disappeared, and what in God's name he has to do with any of this. Secrets, and secrets, without answering anything. And then this? You're telling me now that my entire life has been some make-believe, science-fiction scandal orchestrated by a crime family?"

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, her heart nearly bursting in her chest, threatening to break through her ribs. 

Marcaim shrugged lightly. "Well, yes."

She laughed, long and hard. "You're fucked up, you know that? You are really out of control. If I didn't know any better, I would think that this was all some sort of elaborate prank. Is Daryl at home, remodeling the house? Wait! Did he buy that place in Rushan we talked about, and we're going to move so I can study abroad? Was he trying to surprise me?" She looked around frantically. "Where's the camera. Can he see this?"

"Miss Akagi..." "Mrs. Trenholm!" She shouted. "He exists. I'm not crazy! I'm not!"

In her frenzy she had not realized that she had forgotten to breathe, the room starting to spin around her. It was too late when she finally realized that it was all crashing around her, and Marcaim was out of his seat in the space of a heartbeat, catching her deftly and lowering her gently to the floor. She swatted at him angrilly, gnashing her teeth as though she intended to bite him. He let her, brushing the bleached blonde bangs that had gotten overlong out of her eyes. 

"Relax, Mrs. Trenholm." He said kindly. "Relax. Shhh. Breathe..."

Jei pulled in a gasping breath, pushing against his chest roughly. "Get me out of here. Get my father. We're leaving. Now." Fresh tears filled her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. "I don't want to play this game anymore. Tell Daryl it isn't funny. I want this to stop."

***

"Stop!" Jei giggled, rolling away from him and drawing the blankets tight around her body, but still the onslaught conditioned. Daryl dug his long fingers into her ribs, tickling fiercely as he slid up behind her, resting his chin in the curve of her shoulder, next to her neck. His teeth nipped playfully at her ear, making her squeal.

"I think we should move to Rushan." He purred, sending a shiver through her body. "Soon. Just you and me, and maybe a little one, too." His hands found her flat stomach, caressing gently. Her laughter stilled, melting into heavy breaths.

"Now?" She asked. "I still have two semesters left, though."

His hands drifted, seeking out the soft mounds of her modest breasts. "You can transfer," Daryl replied. "And find a good job, there. There would be a lot of opportunities to teach, and a lot of undiscovered Alderian culture. And rain, Jei! Plants, green ones! Forests and water." His tongue flicked agains her earlobe. "You would love it there."

His roaming hands continued their quests, searching her body across the blanket that covered her. She could not help how it responded, leaning back into the hardness of his body, and the hardness of other things. He made her moan so effortlessly, as always.

"But Calvin," Jei protested weakly. "You know I can't just leave him here. He'll be alone."

Daryl chuckled. "He can come with us. Or, we can have him to visit. As often as you want."

She often dreamed of an opportunity to leave the desert, to travel the world and to experience it firsthand. While Daryl did well, a good portion of their income went into putting her through school. She had promised, after she was finished, that they would go wherever the wind took them. 

He did not take such offers lightly, but still she worried that it was too soon, that they weren't ready, financially or otherwise. But each time she opened her mouth to protest, he would cover it with us own, assuaging her doubts with his affections. Of course they were treaty. For a family. The move. All of it.

They made love until he convince her, although she had given in long before that. 

When she woke, he was gone.

***

Jei's head throbbed. She was reclined on the couch in the break room, her head resting on Calvin's lap. Her eyes cracked open just enough to take inventory of her surroundings before closing again. She sighed.

"Please. Someone just tell me what's going on." She whispered.

Calvin held his breath. "Are you sure that you want to hear it?"

"Only from you. The rest of them can scorch and burn for all that I care." Jei said.

She could hear he grown in her father's voice. "I don't think I deserve it any more than they do, sweetheart."

He had known, if not all then at least part of what the Rose had told her. But she would not, even for a moment, believe that his intentions were the same. He had never tried to use her, had always loved her. He was the one, the only person in this world that she could trust. 

“You deserve it, Cal.” She said. She felt worn thin, exhausted. He brushed his fingers through her hair, pushing her bangs from her eyes. He had done this to comfort her ever since she was small, and she felt herself relax, but only a little. “You would never do anything to hurt me.”

He shifted. “No. Never.”

“Is he telling the truth?” She asked. “About me. About Mama.”

He coughed, as he always did when he was anxious. “Yes. Your mother was my best friend. I loved her, more than I could ever love anyone.” He ruffled her hair. “That was before she gave me you, of course. When she was in trouble, I couldn’t turn her away. I took care of her and tried to keep her safe.”

He continued, “But I wasn’t good enough. Not for something like that.”

The hand in her hair was trembling. He rarely talked about her mother, but she had known how deeply they had loved one another. Even as a little girl it was her dream to find a love like theirs, even though Eiko’s life had been cut short.

Now she suspected that she knew why.

“Cal,” She whispered. “Stop. We don’t have to talk about this.”

“No.” He said firmly. “I have kept this from you for too long. You need to hear it, even if it breaks my heart to tell you.”

She sensed his approach before she could see him, Jeremiah's bulk casting a long shadow in the doorway.  He cleared his throat noisily. "Am I alright to come in?" he asked.

He must have sensed her anger, retreating slightly from the doorway as Jei lifted her head to look at him. She should have forgiven him, she knew. He was only doing what he was told. But why couldn't he be doing something because he wanted to? What had they dragged her into?

"Come in, Jer." Calvin waved him in. "Make sure you apologize to her. She's grumpy."

Grumbling, Jei said, "This goes beyond grumpy. Grumpy is when someone eats the ice cream in the freezer that had your name on it. I'm livid. You're lucky Calvin calmed me down, or I would break your nose."

"Love you too, kiddo." Jeremiah smirked. "Lord knows it's well-deserved. I'll give you a free swing when you're feeling up to it. You can cash in that IOU whenever you want."

"Noted." Jei said, resting her head back on Calvin's lap.

The more she wanted it, the more she realized that things were not going to slow down. From the moment that she had woken up without Daryl beside her, nothing had been the same. And now, the two men who meant more to her than even her husband, had been keeping secrets - secrets large enough to turn her entire life on its head. She knew that this was only just the beginning.

"What in the world is that asshole asking me to lead, anyway? Aren't I supposed to be some sort of, well, super assassin? Those work alone." Her lip curled in a vicious smirk. "Sounds like a good life, to me."

"Hush." Calvin scolded, frowning.

With her hostilities calmed, Jeremiah let himself in, sitting on the corner of the further couch and resting his elbows on his knees. "Does this mean you're gonna listen? That you're not going to burst a blood vessel or strangle someone so that we can tell you the whole story?"

"No promises." Jei replied.

"Guess that's the best I'm gonna get." Jeremiah sighed. "I should let Calvin tell you. Seems you're less likely to hurt him, and I need to be in fightin' shape soon."

His eyes were ringed with red, the skin on his face seeming to be covered in blisters. For the first time she saw something that had never been there before - a long, white scar, shaped like a fishhook, that curled around his cheek and ended on the bridge of his nose. It was white with age. The blistering on his face and around his eyes only served to accent it, these were new scars in comparison to the other. 

Jeremiah's gloves were off, something she had also never seen. The pads of his fingers and his palms were puckered and cross-hatched with scars just as old as the one on his face.

He had been hiding from Jei her entire life, and she was terrified of what else he might reveal.

Calvin's fingers combed the hair on her scalp, drawing her attention back to him. "Where were we?"

"You were telling me about Mama." She replied. 

"Ah," He nodded. "Right. Jeremiah came to us after your mother died. It was...not an accident. Not like I had told you before. And I am sorry that I kept this from you. It wasn't easy. You deserved to know; you always did."

"She loved you so much, but what she did to bring you into the world was what got her into trouble. The kind of trouble that gets the Jinzan family involved, sending their top bodyguard to keep watch over us for the last twenty-five years."

Jei frowned. "Marcaim called him Cancer. Then he mentioned Virgo and Taurus..."

Calvin nodded stiffly. "The Zodiacs."

The world's most infamous band of mercenaries. Owned and operated by the Jinzan family, meant to carry out their dirty work. Rumor had it that their primary director was the Hammer - the most vindictive of the three. But if they were here.

"When I said Gemini he seemed surprised. Why?"

Calvin's words froze in his throat, his fingers tensing in her hair. "Because," He started, his voice choked. "That was what they called Daryl. At least, that is what they tell me. I had no idea of this, until now."

Jei's heart fell into her stomach, and she rolled over onto her side, retching violently. Her empty stomach gave nothing, and her father's hands reached out for her, keeping her from tumbling onto the floor. She could feel her heart pulsing in her head.

"Jei. Stop."

Her stomach lurched, but she clung to him. "No. Tell me. Everything."

Calvin nodded, setting his jaw.

"The assassination of the president was real. Daryl - from what I understand - was sent to take his place. They had been grooming him for it for years. Before he ever met you."

"It was a job that had been meant for you. They made you take the fall for it, putting him in control and planning for you to disappear. But Marcaim found out. Then the Zodiacs still loyal to him came to collect you."

Jei gritted her teeth. "He wants me to lead. He said that. That motherfucker said that."

"Yes." Calvin said. "Because you are in a unique position. You are one of the only people who know who Daryl really is."

She snorted, pulling herself up to sitting. She hugged her knees to her chest, rocking slowly back and forth. "Who says? Who says anyone knew him? Who says that he wasn't another pawn in this game, meant to make me do something stupid. Was any of my life real, Cal? Was I ever really myself? Or am I who they wanted me to be this entire time?"

Of course she had always known she was different. Normal little girls could not hear through walls to eavesdrop on hushed conversations, or could not move fast enough to catch a kitten falling from a tree. She had done these things, and many others like them, but never once had she considered herself to be unusual. Everyone, she thought, had their own talents to share. These were just some of hers.

To think that someone had created her with the sole purpose of killing others disgusted her. She had never harmed another living being, short of picking fights with boys on the playground. Nothing so malicious that she ever wished them gone. Sure, she had violent tendencies, but they had always been attributed to her quick-flaring temper. Always with Calvin’s help – and later Daryl’s – she had been able to calm and work through it without incident. Surely, she thought, other people got angry too. She was no different.

Only now she was. Different. Outcast. A normal woman would not find herself married to a gangster, or be accused of murdering a national leader. A normal woman wouldn’t be hiding underground while crimelords planned her fate, and had been planning her fate all along.

Calvin could not speak. 

He knew better not to – he knew her better than anyone. He was the only one in her life not in doubt, whatever he kept from her, he kept because he wanted her safe. He had always treated her normally, even when others said that she was strange. He made her feel loved and safe, building her confidence, and making her strong.

Strong enough to deal with this. Just his presence was enough to remind her. What would she ever do without him?

“Let me make sure that I understand.” She said slowly, her focus on the far wall, away from the men she knew were watching her. “I was born to be an assassin. I’ve been watched over my entire life by hitmen and crimelords. My husband is one of them, and is a part of a conspiracy which killed the president – then pinned it on me. Now this crimelord which has been creeping on my existence wants me to lead what – a revolution – against my husband?”

Jeremiah was the one to respond. “That’s about the long and short of it, kiddo.”

She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Right. And at what point was anyone going to ask me what I wanted out of all of this?”

“If I had to be fair, sweetheart, you haven’t given anyone much of a chance. Not that anyone could blame you, of course.” Calvin spoke quietly. “No one would expect anyone to handle what you have told you and take it well. Honestly, you are doing better than I expected.”

“Let’s say that I don’t want to.” She said. “Because what I really want, what I really need, is to be home – away from all of this, somewhere that I can move on and live my life without anyone bothering me. Maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll be able to move on with this and have a normal life.”

When she turned, she saw the glassy look in Calvin’s eyes. He diverted his gaze, not wanting her to see just how much her words had wounded him.

“With you, of course. Always with you.” She reminded him. “But none of the rest of this. Let’s just go. We can move to Rushan. Hell, we can move to Aradel if you want. The year-long rain would be better than this.”

She reached for him, and he grabbed her hand, squeezing it firmly. “If that’s what you want.” He told her. “No one is forcing you to stay.”

Jeremiah’s back went rigid. “Marcaim may not take well to this.”

“He can kiss my ass.” Jei snapped. “They can keep all of my things, for all that I care.” She stood, stretching, her hand still in Calvin’s grip. “You don’t mind riding bitch on Shockwave, do you?”

Her father grinned, the laugh lines crinkling in the corners of his eyes. “Not at all. Let’s get out of here.”

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