7

I yawn, stretching out like a cat. “Rise’n’shine.”

Sekera groans, rolling over. “How do you sleep on such?” she asks, scowling at the back-alley nook I found. My perfect idea of cozy.

I shrug. “Been sleeping in ‘em my whole life. I’ll take it over a bed any day.”

“You’re nonsense. Hey, that thing on your pants is beeping.”

“Huh?” I ask, looking down. Sure enough, a small, metallic object is flashing like it’s about to explode on my waistband. That would be hilarious. “Oh. Kaloaan gave it to me the other day. Says its so that we can contact each other… in case of an emergency.”

“Shouldn’t you answer?”

“Well, I would,” I start, pulling it from my waistband and sliding it’s smooth, pebble like figure in my hands. “But I’m not really sure how to. Not the most tech savvy.”

“Damnit Kallix you’re a cave man,” she mumbles, snatching it from me. It takes her a second to realize that there’s a discrete button along the side of its ovular shape. She presses it down and a crackly voice emerges out.

“Kallix? Kallix can you hear me?”

Sekera glares at me expectantly.

“Yeah I can hear you. What is it? You kinda interrupted something.”

Her glare deepens.

“Sorry. I just… needed to contact you.”

“Well? What is it?” I demand.

“It’s Zorikan.”

“Don’t tell me he’s attacked again.”

“No.”

“He’s dead?”

“No! Just listen for a second.”

I listen.

“He sent one of his men. Swifters, they’re called?”

“Yeah. What’d he say?”

“She, actually. She said that Zorikan’s ready to… make a truce.”

“A truce? Really?”

“Yeah, apparently. I’m not sure, it seems like a rig. I’ve got half a dozen men surrounding his complex.”

“What? You found it? How?”

“Tash followed you. I told you he’s the best.”

“That’s disgusting!”

“Anyway, he wants a truce. Just after he tried to burn down the headquarters. I don’t know what’s got into him. I just wanted to call you because… well, you know him better than the rest of us.”

“So?”

“So I want you here when I talk to him.”

“To make sure you don’t shoot him? Like you did to Dainin?”

“Why’re you talking like your friends with him?”

I suck in a breath through my teeth, sharp enough for him to hear. “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t say that.”

I hear him exhale and can practically picture him pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Relax Kaloaan,” I say. The name feels foreign and awkward on my tongue. “When and where?”

“Meet me at the HQ. Tonight. Nine.”

“Yeah… I’ll be there. If nothing else comes up, that is.”

Sekera’s eyes roll at the unnecessary snide.

The light of the device winks off without a warning. I clip it back to my waistband.

“Are you going to go?” she asks.

I crack my neck obnoxiously. “Maybe… if I feel like it.”

~

I rest my head against the tinted window, watching the raindrops race against each other.

“You really should put your seatbelt on,” Kaloaan mutters, sitting next to me at the back of one of his boxy police SUVs.

I show him the finger without turning away and flap the opening of my shirt. It’s already sweat stained from my run to the HQ, and the car heater isn’t helping. I can smell my musk.

“Don’t do anything rash.”

“You’re telling me?” I ask.

That silences him.

My hand scrunches into a fist in longing for Sekera’s warmth. She’d told me that she wanted our ‘sunrises everyday’ to come faster, so she needed to find Amethyst. I’d told her to wait a day, so I could go with her. A day. Bitching impatient bitch. I’d given her my weird ovular transmitter and told Kaloaan I’d lost mine. He’d given me his and said that he’d have another made.

The car turns pristinely into a driveway. “We’re here,” Tash says, leaning over from the passenger seat. Grell twists the key and the soft white hum stops. I swallow my nausea and step out into the rain. I follow the policemen figures inside. Inside the door, we pause, in a small, dusty room. Grell looks like a boulder, with his dripping beard, bald head and beady eyes. I watch as Tash has to duck his long form to get inside.

“Alright, it’s just the two of us,” Kaloaan tells me.

“What?” Tash asks. “Since when?”

Kaloaan tightens his jaw. “That was Zorikan’s demand.”

“And if it goes south? You expect…” he gestures at me awkwardly, “to have your back?”

“You’ll be just out here. Take this earpiece, you’ll hear everything that goes on inside.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

The officers snatch up the small metal pieces, a tentative look on Tash’s face.

Kaloaan then pulls his pistol out of its holster and hands it to him as well. Kaloaan and I walk through the heavy, bullet proof door. I notice him walking a step behind me. It’s not because he rather I die than he, but he knows Zorikan won’t kill him.

The room is small with walls and a single, black table with two chairs on one side, and one on the other. Before sitting down, Kaloaan says, “Alright, we’re inside.”

A crackly voice comes through a hidden microphone. “Sit down.”

Kaloaan sits, and I push my chair, in standing behind it.

“You too, Kallix.”

I snort, slumping into the chair.

The door across from us opens, and Zorikan eases into the room. He walks towards us with a ghastly look in his pale eyes. His gate is relaxed yet menacing at the same time. Nonchalant while authoritative. He pulls out the chair slowly, letting its legs drag on the ground, and sits down like a kingpin.

“So?” he asks, leaning forwards and folding his hands on the table. “What can you do for me?”

Kaloaan is stunned at the directness of his statement, but quickly hides it under his police rigid dark eyes. He too, leans forward, in a subtle challenge of Zorikan’s power. “You called this meeting. You tell me what you can do for me.”

I take the moment to compare the two of them. Kaloaan is bigger and broader, but anybody can see the tired kindness in his eyes. Zorikan is leaner and more muscular, with something eel-like about him. His mouth is a dark straight line, and his rigid, defined cheekbones show no hit of a smile. The silver ring, dangling from his left earlobe only adds to his “God of the Underworld” aura. It’s then that I notice a new scar across his wrist. His visage is solid, but I know he’s in no position to make demands here.

“I want you to stop trying to kill my men, so that I can deal with the larger threat at hand.”

“That’s an odd demand, coming from the one who commit arson on my head-quarters,” Kaloaan responds.

Zorikan shrugs. It’s an unnerving motion when coupled with his unwavering gaze. “It was a retaliation. You killed one of my men, as I explicitly stated you shouldn’t do.”

He doesn’t say anything about Dainin being his best friend.

Kaloaan slams his hands on the table, the feeble justification flaring up his temper. “You had kidnapped my brother.”

“Saved,” Zorikan corrects. “Saved him. I’m not sure where you were when he was being shot at by Qiara’s assassins.”

Kaloaan stands, the chair toppling over behind him and strides around the table. Zorikan looks at him, unflinching. “Are you sure you want to keep talking like you have an army?”

Zorikan laughs. “I do, and if you aren’t careful, you won’t. So why don’t you sit down, and stop behaving like an uneducated child cave man, and perhaps we can negotiate.”

Kaloaan is fuming. Through gritted teeth he says, “Qiara needs to go, but it won’t be difficult to get rid of you first.”

Zorikan smiles. “It’s no wonder Kallix refuses to live with you. You’re a brute.”

That makes Kaloaan snap, and he starts at Zorikan. But the King of Thieves is too fast, ducking out of the way. He kicks Kaloaan’s knee and shoots a hand to his throat. Kaloaan grunts, pulling Zorikan off him and shoving him away.

“Stop, you idiots!” I holler, standing up as well.

Kaloaan throws a punch, but Zorikan dodges, swiftly maneuvering around the Chief and leaping into a headlock. Kaloaan tries to flip him off his back, but can’t. His face turns red.

“That’s it!” I shout, standing and pulling the knife from my pocket. I realize that if Zorikan’s got any back up, which he does, they’ll be on me in a second. “I’m going to stab somebody.”

Zorikan releases Kaloaan, who staggers into the table, gasping.

“I think it’s clear the police force wants nothing to do with the Swifters. So we’ll have to remove them from the picture before we get rid of Qiara.”

“Fool!” I bellow, through a voice crack. “You know well enough that Qiara’s killing off you Swifters faster than you can count. You know you don’t have the man power or the weapons to take her out. I’ve heard them talking, the Swifters aren’t loyal to you anymore, Zorikan. They’re thinking of a swift in leadership. Qiara is offering that.” The last part is a lie, but I know it will throw him off.

His eyes narrow, and he calmly sits back down.

“And Kaloaan, you do have the manpower and the weapons to take her out, yet you’ve accomplished nothing! No leads, no advancements, zero progress. She’s too smart, to quick. Your academic mind can’t think like her. She outmaneuvers you every dame time. You don’t stand a bloody chance. And both of you are on her kill list! You’ll probably both be out of the picture in a week’s time if no change occurs.”

Kaloaan is shocked by my outburst, and I can see gears start to shift in Zorikan’s mind.

“I don’t give a DAMN if that happens! Qiara can take over for all I care, she’s probably better than that blasted mayor anyway! But you know who else is on the kill list besides you two baboons? Tauren, one of my best friends, so that is the ONLY damn reason I’m hear screaming at you like your freaking teacher. So please for the love of the bastard god or whatever, stop bickering like old lovers and freaking figure out how to kill that bitch!”

The two of them are stunned into silence.

And then all hell breaks loose.

The first thing I see is Tash, barreling through the door and diving into Kaloaan, tackling him to the ground. Grell staggers through after him, an assault rifle in one hand while his other holds his side. “Qiara,” he gasps, stepping to the side of the doorway.

Zorikan and I duck behind the desk just as a flurry of bullets rip through the door.

“Snake’s found us! Get in here,” Zorikan hisses into a walkie.

Kaloaan pushes Tash off him. “Kallix! Kallix are you alright?” he asks, army crawling to me.

I nod. Bullets glance against the metal desk. I lie down flat, peering under. I see an assassin, with the telltale red and black camo of Qiara’s men, walking wearily forwards with an assault rifle. He stands at the doorway, inches from Grell.

“I can’t see any of them,” he whispers.

“Must’ve escaped. C’mon before they get too far,” another, out of my sight replies.

The first assassin takes a step in and is instantly gunned down by Grell.

“Shit!” one of them hisses, and a grenade is hurled inside.

Kaloaan literally flattens himself on top of me as it explodes. Thank god the desk his metal.

The back door opens and five or so swifters enter, sliding Zorikan a gun. Flashbacks of the shootout in the dunes reopen the scars in my mind as I go deaf with gunfire. The next events happen in a series of blurs and screams.

I can see Grell shooting down the assassins that go through the doorway, but he’s got shrapnel in his side. I almost hurl in horror as he tries to dive behind the desk, but another bullet rips through his torso. Kaloaan manages to pull him around.

“Grell! Grell can you hear me?”

All I can do is watch as blood soaks his beard. He splutters inaudible words, his massive hand outstretched. All I catch is ‘Adrikar,’ and ‘sorry’.

One of the Swifters is shot, and we’re flooded.

Kaloaan half drags me out of the room and into the hallway. It’s needless to say that we’re nearly shot a dozen times.

Tash and Zorikan leap through after us. “Come on,” Zorikan huffs, barreling past us.

Regretfully, I glance over my shoulder, only to see another Swifter being pummeled into the hall with bullets. An explosion shakes the building so much that Kaloaan and Tash are thrown off their feet.

We round a few corners before Zorikan stops at a circular trap door, turning a wheel latch to open it. “Let’s go,” he instructs.

Kaloaan shakes his head. “No, SUVs right there.” He nods at the dusty window. The car’s only a couple feet away.

“No. You’ll die. She must have snipers everywhere!”

“We’ve got the truce, but you things your way, and I’ll do things mine,” Kaloaan says, bluntly.

Two of the swifters scramble into the room. “They’re behind us. We need to hurry.”

Kaloaan snatches Zorikans gun and shoots out the window, vaulting out. Tash follows him. I’m conflicted for a moment, but I remember that there’s no way in hell I want to spend more time with Zorikan, so I go with them.

We duck to the car, opening the doors as bullets begin to strike. Kaloaan and I dive into the back while Tash gets the wheel and slams down the accelerator.

Bullet marks form on the rear and side bullet proof windows as we careen onto the road. I look back, seeing one of the snipers shooting at us in vain. We’re safe.

“Tash! Sniper!” Kaloaan hollers, pointing ahead. I see the glint a second to late.

I’ve already felt the bullet rip through Tash’s brains, and then through mine before it’s shot, aimed perfectly at his head… but the windscreen stops it, sending a spiderweb of cracks. This is some tough ass glass.

The next bullet comes, but Tash’s swerved out of the way, so it hits the metal frame of the car. The third bullet hits the edge of the windscreen, spreading the cracks even more.

Kaloaan grabs my head and forces me down as a bullet shatters the screen, giving Tash a face-full of glass. The car veers left and hits something solid, crushing the hood, nearly flipping forwards, and sending Tash flying out the gaping hole where the windscreen had been.

Kaloaan and I slam painfully against the seats in front of us. Before my head’s stopped spinning, I’ve been hauled out of the car. We scramble for the cover of the alleys, but another clean sniper shot booms in my ears.

Kaloaan topples forwards with a bellow of pain, and I’m forced to leap over him so I don’t trip.

“Kalo!” I gasp, crouching beside him. I can hear the seconds counting in my ear before I’m shot.

“Go! Go!” he shouts, trying to haul himself to his feet. His left leg is completely limp.

There’s the next shot. I don’t feel anything.

Kaloaan somehow manages to stand, tackling me behind a building. My vision goes hazy as I see his face, spinning as he holds my cheeks. My neck feels hot. The rest of my body feels cold.

He looks worried. Scared. Genuinely scared. I peer to the left, seeing his hand covered in bright red blood. My blood. Is that my blood? I don’t feel anything. Just cold. Really cold. And hot. Wait how does that make...