{Enki}

“No!” Tameka, the nacre-draining Progeny known as Fury, slammed her tawny brown fist against the invisible barrier. It once led to the conduit to Primary Rem’s sanctum. “This can’t be happening. They sealed it.”

Over the earpiece, Caedes’ gravelly voice assured, “We expected as much after Tumu caught you there. But we know it’s not permanent. And we’re developing a work-around.”

Just the sort of optimistic reasoning she’d want to hear from Xelan right about now. Her heart squeezed tight at the thought of her son’s father. They already lost him to this war by the time Pax was born. Pressing her forehead against the barrier, Tameka allowed herself a single sob. Frustrated and exhausted, her endless positivity ran dry within the last week after Sagan failed to make their last rendezvous.

An unfortunately timed failure. Without the Seamswalker, Tumu, former Tritan Primary and current Officer of the Third, caught Tameka in the Pantheon sans exit strategy. The Tritans regarded the continent-sized temple in Enki as sacred ground. He somehow rendered her unconscious. She woke up the next day in her own bed, but she worried something happened in her sleep. Ever since, she suffered from multiple headaches throughout the day that left her dizzy and nauseous. Symptoms her nacre should prevent.

And there was the issue with Enki’s star—

“We’ll find her.” The Icarus in her ear sounded as certain as the day he swore allegiance to Tameka’s red hair.

His faith in them pulled Tameka from the barrier, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin. No time to sit here and cry. Pax needed his mommy strong. The Shadow needed her to find Sagan. No matter how much that blond-haired, violet-eyed Progeny flaked on them in the past, last week wasn’t a matter of dependability. Her best friend—her sister—was lost out there somewhere. Sagan needed their help. Tameka felt it in her marrow.

They unlocked Razor’s drive. The dossiers on Imminent’s organization were legitimate. But the sinister alien encoded the most crucial information. Likely to keep enticing Sagan to return for more of his bullshit. Now…

Tameka cleared her throat to speak around the emotion. “Tumu’s our only option now.”

“That may be. But he hasn’t come around since he dropped you off last week.”

Gripping the chain around her neck, the young woman in her twenties promised with conviction, “I’ll go to him. Can you locate him for me?”

“Roger that. Head back this way. I’ll search in the meantime.”

“Thank you, Caedes.” Tameka meant it.

Warmth and pride suffused the line before he answered with more gravel than usual, “You’re welcome.”

It hurt her to hear the tall, bald warrior sound so affected by her gratitude. Hidden beneath a gruff exterior, his kindness kept her moving since her forced residence in the Dyson’s Sphere. His blood, too. But although he offered his heart in his deep green eyes, Tameka kept hers aloft. No matter how wonderful Caedes was with Pax, the toddler’s father remained the love of her life. Nothing short of Xelan’s spectacular grin and sparkling dark eyes would move her again.

“Fury, he’s at Karter’s residence. Next door. What’s your ETA?”

Tameka went from walking to running down Enki’s corridors, racing through intersections. “Ten minutes. Keep him there. Whatever you have—”

“Ow!” A second female voice cried out as they slammed into each other.

That collision sucked.

Coming to her hands and knees from the floor, Tameka found herself face-to-face with Pehton. The Lyrik with true black skin. Even her frown looked lost. And not in the directional sense.

Fury stood first and offered her hand. “I’m sorry about that.”

The small woman took it. “Sovereign Ambassador, I was heading your way, actually. I—”

The redheaded Progeny stepped into the orange-feathered Lyrik’s personal space. “Where is Sagan?”

Those red eyes looked away. Shame. She felt ashamed.

Not good. “I mean it, Pehton. You tell me where she is, or I’ll—”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“I don’t know. I swear I don’t.” As Tameka relaxed by inches, Pehton continued, “Razor says he has her, but I haven’t seen her at the Emporium. That’s all I know.”

“Korac?”

The Lyrik looked down one hall and then the other before muttering, “Can we please head to your place? I’m sure it’s more secure, and I actually want to talk to you. And Tumu. He’s waiting for my report at Eminent Karter’s place.”

On her nod, they raced down the hall toward her apartment. Pehton followed wordlessly. Almost there.

Caedes’ words in her ear startled Tameka, “I take it we have company.”

Fury chose not to answer. Instead, she silently measured the shorter woman. Exhausted. Sad. As if some recent horror extinguished a fire in her. Tameka’s instincts toward Pehton switched from “pummel for information” to “protect at all costs.” That was the way of the Shadow.

Maybe now was a good time to try it on someone outside the Icarean family. Reaching into the well that sourced her power, Tameka found it filled to the brim with nacre energy. Buzzing like a massive battery. Alive. With little thought, she sent the energy out from her nacre and into that nanite field that surrounded Pehton.

The Lyrik stopped. Like her heart stopped. Her hands went to her chest, and she gasped for air. She fell to her knees.

Tameka ran to her. “Are you—Ow!” Pehton’s skin burned where the Progeny touched her shoulder. “You’re on fire.”

When the inhale finally came, a melodic whistle followed along with the smell of kerosene.

“Pehton, are you all right?”

A heartbeat passed. Two. After a few heaving breaths, the smell dissipated. The Lyrik raised her gaze to Tameka’s eyes. “What the fuck… did you do to me?”

Ignoring the question, the Progeny scanned the other woman. “How do you feel?”

Red eyes sparkling. Back straighter. Skin radiant. Pehton looked beautiful. “I feel… great. But how?”

“Yes, Peaches. How?”

They both looked to find Tumu down the hall near the wing they occupied in the otherwise empty glass and white stone colony.

“Busted,” Caedes called over the mic.

Oh, now the boy’s got jokes.

Ten minutes later, the entire crew—Chris, Karter, Para, Caedes, Pehton, and Tameka, excluding John and Jack—sat around absorbing information in Karter’s oceanside bungalow. Freshly elected to Eminent, the Icarean Valkyrie and super kick ass warrior woman, Karter, sat on the couch between her lovers, Chris and Para. Para, known as the tiniest Valkyrie, habitually fluffed her freshly dyed short blue hair. The five-foot, eight-inch woman warmed any room with her genuineness and sweet sense of humor. Chris, protector of the King Regent and Rayne’s brother, Jack, kept his fade clean cut even in the worst disaster. Already a war veteran pre-Volcano Day, he offered a ray of sunshine to any dark night. The three of them were consistently cute enough to make Tameka a little sick. In a good way.

Every person in the room wore a chain, except Tumu and Pehton. Even Jack and John, who were currently off-site preparing for the nacre dispensation on Earth. That was some tough bureaucratic bullshit, and it kept Abresson busy—a most unpleasant Tritan Eminent. Rayne’s younger brother worked out great as her Regent of Earth. The Tritan bureaucracy welcomed his tenacious energy and dedication. John schmoozed the best out of all the Shadow. He convinced the Tribunal his interest in Enki was purely educational, drawing a curriculum from the great race of Tritans to school Earth on the Vast Collective. In actuality, he and Jack made for the best team of harmless-seeming distractions.

Unlike Tameka, who garnered entirely too much attention. Maybe it was the creepy reproduction program Imminent considered forcing the three Progeny women into. Or maybe it was the occasional power surge with her as the epicenter. Tumu was the only Tritan who witnessed most of her ability. It was time to discuss the rest.

Pehton sat on the white sofa’s armrest. She broke the silence first. “So you shared energy with me you’ve ‘sipped’ from around Enki. And that’s why I feel defibrillated by the sun?”

“Right.” Tameka stood in the middle of the white room hugging herself. She curled her bare toes into the rug beneath her feet, drawing comfort from the uber softness of it. That and her son’s gentle snoring. Pax slept at Karter’s feet where the toddler passed out clinging to her leg.

“That’s a pretty badass superpower, Fury. Hey, do you think it might help in the bedroom—Ow.”

After thumping Chris’ knee, Karter turned to the group. “Never mind that. How can we support your search for the Seamswalker?”

Behind Karter, Para shot Chris a wink and mouthed to Tameka, “We’ll. Talk. Later.”

Tameka appreciated the need for comedy. She did. But Sagan was out there missing. “I need to talk to Korac somehow and see if he knows anything.”

Pehton tossed her hands up and shook her head in frustration. “Without official visitor’s status, your nacre won’t make it through the floor to the basement. Not on that level.”

“I’ll give the official status,” Tumu offered from a cozy armchair. “But first we need to address the problem on Earth.”

Chris waved a dismissive hand and rolled his eyes. “Right. Nacre-free humans or whatever this new cult calls itself.”

Karter folded her arms and scoffed, “I can’t believe people are so ungrateful and stupid.”

“I can.” Para lived through some shit.

Caedes stepped away from the wall he leaned against and volunteered, “I’m going with you. I’ve punched nothing in two years. What was the last report?”

Tumu listed off on his fingers. “Protests. Physical altercations, but nothing life-threatening. The situation is still escalating.”

“What about the others?” They all turned to Pehton. She raised a brow and pressed, “The other Shadow?”

Tameka glanced at Tumu, who nodded. “Lucas said they’re still locked in the Arsenal.”

“I’m sorry, what?” The Lyrik blinked, bewildered.

“Celindria’s taken Kyle’s volition, and she’s controlling his body,” Chris clarified non-chalantly.

Pehton grew quiet as emotions warred on her pretty face. Confusion. Grief. Rage. Her voice came hard when she offered, “If you take me to him, I’ll get her out.”

“You can do that?” Karter’s rainbow mohawk tilted with her head and narrowed her gaze at the tiny woman as if measuring her.

The demonic glee in Pehton’s eyes chilled Tameka’s blood as she assured, “I can. And I’m looking forward to it.”