Shards of Hope

Chapter 34

AN HOUR AFTER his initial conversation with Walker, Aden called Vasic, Zaira, Cristabel, and Axl to a meeting around a table at Central Command, along with Amin and telekinetic Nerida. He’d also asked Walker and Judd to attend. Judd had always known about Central Command, had kept their secret, and Walker had earned the loyalty of far more Arrows than Aden, his care of them as children something none who’d been in his classes had ever forgotten.

Judd and Walker were also the experts in Arrow integration into a changeling pack—into a family akin to the kind of family Aden wanted to build from the cold ruins Ming and the Council had made of them.

He’d decided to leave Marjorie and Naoshi out of the discussion until they had the basics hammered out—his parents weren’t the best people to have in the room while discussing such a massive shift in Arrow life. He had, however, touched base with them and had their cautious agreement to the new senior Arrow-related duties he’d suggested.

Now, the others around the table listened to his proposal, took their time thinking about it.

Walker was the first to speak. “I don’t agree with moving the children here.”

Aden looked up. “Why? Central Command is safer than any other location.” The fact that Arrow children had historically been taught and housed away from it was linked to their inability to keep the location a secret. Aden, however, wasn’t concerned about that, not given the airtight security around Central Command.

“I’m not saying Central Command can’t continue to exist,” Walker said, “but it should function as the armored heart of a pack. A place where you can retreat to if necessary, hold off your enemies. There’s no reason to live your life in a subterranean space.”

Unexpectedly, it was forty-three-year-old Axl who said, “He’s right.” Eyes of deep blue met Aden’s. “I don’t know emotion, but I know that if you want plants to grow, you need light. Even the wolves from whom we acquired the artificial sunlight technology don’t spend the majority of their time in their dens—their children grow up under the rays of a real sun, feel the chill of natural air.”

Cris, who’d fully recovered from a recent gunshot injury, brought up a map on the table, tapped at the valley in which the training compound was located. Unlike when Aden, Zaira, and the other Arrows here had been children, all training was now centralized. The other facilities around the world had either been shut down or turned into bases of operations.

It was one of the few decisions made by Ming with which Aden agreed. Ming had done it because the children received far more one-on-one lessons with different active Arrows this way, and there were never days in which no one was available to take a session—meaning no days were “wasted.”

Aden liked it because it meant the children had more of a chance to form long-term friendships. There was no risk they’d be separated, as he’d been separated from Zaira. She’d been so furiously angry with him for leaving her, but she’d come to see him one last time regardless. Forced to stay in strict position while waiting for his transport, he’d seen her hiding around the corner of a building, dark eyes flashing fire at him and a heavy scowl on her face.

“The squad owns acres and acres of land around the entire compound.” Cris’s clear voice broke into his memories, drew his attention to the map, though he already knew the location inside out. The squad’s ownership spanned the entire valley and the jagged snowcapped mountains that bordered it on either end. Those mountains curved in on both sides, creating a natural barrier against any force on foot.

It was part of the reason Zaid Adelaja, the first Arrow, had chosen the location for the first training compound. As a result of over a century of quiet moves by the squad to gain control of all land in the vicinity, there were no other structures, roads, or even comm beacons for fifty miles in every direction beyond the mountains.

“I assume the evacuation protocols are up-to-date?” Judd asked while Walker scrolled through the valley specs.

Nerida was the one who replied. The Tk had previously assisted with valley security, but Aden had recently promoted her to the primary position, her predecessor having asked to retire to a quiet place in the sun. “We can clear the children within an hour of any threat notification,” she said. “And the entire area is seeded with surface-to-air missiles and other security measures.”

“It won’t be enough if we intend to use the valley as our home base,” Zaira said bluntly from her position directly across from Aden. “We may want to build a family, but if and when the information leaks, others will see it as a threat or a target.”

It was an important point. No matter how much help Arrows had provided to the general population over the past months, they remained some of the most dangerous and feared individuals in the world. And fear could often turn people malicious as they sought to wipe out the cause of their fear. Aden was working on changing the world’s perception of the squad but it would take time—and regardless, they would always protect their children.

After a short discussion, Nerida and Axl took charge of coming up with a new and even more aggressive security protocol.

Aden, meanwhile, would handle telling the children what was to happen, how their living arrangements would change. No longer would they be in antiseptic dorms—all children were to be assigned to a family unit headed by two Arrows, though, as per Walker’s advice, the latter was to be a slow process. Under the plan, senior Arrows were to be treated as “uncles” and “aunts” with peripheral duties, rather than being in primary charge of the children, unless they requested otherwise and were judged ready for deeper contact and responsibility.

Vasic would start to connect with the youngest children, the ones who were least in control of their abilities but far more in touch with their emotions. His task was to be their point of contact, the one person they could go to without hesitation.

I’m not sure about this, Aden, the other man said.

I am. Vasic was one of the gentlest Arrows Aden knew, and he understood the vulnerable. He’d know how to calm their fears. Bring Rabbit. Your pet is a better icebreaker than any words you could say.

As for Walker, he and Cris would work together to assign compatible children and Arrows to one another, while Judd picked up most of Walker’s duties back in SnowDancer. Zaira was to provide assistance where needed, including liaising with “damaged” or recently retired Arrows in Venice and elsewhere around the world who might want to relocate to the valley as teachers or to build families. While a number were dangerous and unstable, many were just worn out, might well thrive in this new environment where they weren’t expected to be perfect soldiers.

The final member of the team, Amin, was placed in charge of organizing the new living spaces.

“The construction of the family units should be done by Arrows,” Nerida pointed out. “It’s the only way we can maintain security.”

Amin shook his head, the dark, dark brown of his skin gleaming in the light. “We don’t have the expertise.”

“Amin’s right,” Aden said, fully aware of his people and their capabilities. “We were only able to build the extension to Vasic and Ivy’s home because her father and several other community members oversaw the project.”

“DarkRiver is in construction.” Judd’s voice. “I know you won’t want an entire team in the valley, but they can construct the buildings elsewhere and Vasic, I, and the other teleporters can bring them in. Only the foundations would have to be laid.”

“We should agree on the most efficient parameters for the houses,” Amin began.

“They shouldn’t all be identical and starkly functional,” Walker interrupted. “Neither should you set them out in military-precise rows.”

Nerida was the one who voiced the critical question. “Why?”

“Because you don’t want the valley to look institutional.” Walker’s pale green eyes held each of theirs in turn. “You’re creating a permanent home.”

And a home, Aden thought, didn’t need to be only efficient. He glanced at Amin. “We can ask DarkRiver’s architects to personalize the homes in different ways.” They were much better qualified for the task. “Focus on making sure we’ll have the flexibility to accommodate diverse types of family groups—including those families that want to live together with others.”

Getting Amin’s nod, he turned to Vasic and Judd. “I need you two to speak to the other teleporters, make sure we have the capacity for the transfer.”

“It will have to be done in pieces,” Vasic said. “But we should be able to put the pieces together as long as DarkRiver is willing to give us instructions.”

Judd turned to Vasic. “I can’t see them saying no. It’s not like the squad’s planning to go into construction.”

“No.” Arrows had other skills, skills that had a multitude of uses—and they didn’t all have to do with death, not under Aden’s watch.

“There’s also Kaleb,” Cris said, her next words as pragmatic as the neat little ponytail in which she usually wore her dark brown hair—and the lack of flash with which she handled a sniper rifle. “No point keeping him out since we all know he can go anywhere he wants.”

Aden still wasn’t sure about trusting the cardinal Tk, but Cris was right. They might as well use his abilities should he agree to assist. “Vasic—you or Judd touch base with Kaleb. Amin and I will speak to the DarkRiver alpha about the construction.”

The rest of the meeting was taken up with the finer details of what would be a seismic shift in Arrow lives. Zaira, he said when she would’ve left with the others, I need to speak to you.

I’ve been away from Venice too long. Alejandro is unstable. Shifting her attention to Vasic, she asked the teleporter if he could give her a lift, was gone a second later.

Aden didn’t stop her. If Zaira didn’t want to do something, she wouldn’t do it. She had to choose to come to him.

ZAIRA arrived in Venice knowing she was running away. “Thank you,” she said to Vasic. “I believe Marjorie wanted to speak to you. Do you have a few minutes?”

At Vasic’s nod, she directed him to Marjorie’s location, then headed out to check on Alejandro. He wasn’t in the compound, but, aware he didn’t like to wander far, she did a sweep and found him standing beside a nearby canal. He wasn’t alone.

A large man was gesticulating and poking Alejandro. That could’ve been lethal for the man in question if Zaira hadn’t given Alejandro an order not to attack civilians who weren’t a deadly threat. Because though his brain was damaged in certain ways, Alejandro retained all his offensive and defensive skills. He could kill most untrained individuals in a matter of seconds. As she came closer, she heard what the man was saying.

“I’ve seen you lumbering around. You’re a big dumb lunk, aren’t you?” Spittle flew out of the stranger’s mouth, cruel laughter on his face. “You got any fucking brains at all?” The man continued to poke at Alejandro. “I told you this area is ours. No Psy scum allowed. Get lost or I’ll show you the sharp end of my favorite knife.”

Zaira could’ve ignored the insult to Psy, but never to one of her people. Especially not to someone who was deeply vulnerable on a level this bully of a man couldn’t understand. Normally, she’d have threatened the man into retreat. Today, so soon after her disconnection from the Net, the rage not yet trapped in the abyss where it lived, the switch in her brain, the one that had been thrown when she was a child, it flipped again.

She saw her hand punch out, hit the male in the nose. That took considerable control—she could’ve killed him with a single hit. Instead, she just punched him again and swept his legs out from under him. Blood flew and he was on the ground, his bulk no defense against a fully trained Arrow.

No defense at all against Zaira in a rage.

At some point, her arm began to hurt and she was aware the man wasn’t moving, but she couldn’t stop. He’d belittled Alejandro, threatened to harm him in the future. Zaira had to put a stop to it right now. No one could be permitted to see her or her people as weak, because the weak got hurt and no one was ever again going to hurt her.

Zaira.

When Aden’s voice sliced through her mind like a hot blade, she shrugged it off. He couldn’t be here. She’d left him, left the man she wanted more than anything. But his strong hands were pulling her off her target, his hold not painful but resolute. She went to snap his wrist, couldn’t make herself harm him. Changing direction, she twisted and kicked out in an effort to escape, get back to the man with a face smeared in red.

Arms clamping around her, Aden turned her forcefully away from the body. She caught a fleeting glimpse of another man. A tall one with winter gray eyes and dark hair. Some part of her said she knew who he was, but she couldn’t process the thought right then, her mind hot red.

When the world shimmered around her, she screamed in untrammeled rage, conscious she was being teleported away. Then Aden was releasing her, the other man was gone, and they were alone in a moonlit desert, rolling sand dunes as far as the eye could see. Turning on Aden, she slammed herself into his body, taking him to the ground with her momentum. “He was mine!” she yelled, lifting her arm with the intent of plowing her bloodied and scraped fist into his face.

Instead of bringing up his forearm to block the blow, he placed his hands on her hips and just looked her in the eye, the quiet, intense power of him a hum in the air. She couldn’t bring down her fist, couldn’t complete the hit. Muscles straining as she held the position, she said, “I had him.”

“Yes,” Aden said, no horror in his tone. “Vasic tells me he’s barely alive. He’ll be in surgery for hours to reconstruct his face.”

It felt as if her arm would break if she didn’t bring it down.

Getting off this man she couldn’t hurt, she rose to her feet, spun around to find something to fight, but everywhere she looked, there was only sand. It dissolved to nothing when she picked it up to throw, wasn’t solid enough to pummel. Dropping to her knees, she screamed and screamed but the rage continued to boil in her until it consumed her, became her, became everything.

The arms that came around her were strong but didn’t cage. Still she broke away, her hands gripping fistfuls of sand. The screams kept coming. They made her throat raw, stole the air in her lungs until there was no more sound and every muscle in her body ached, but the tension, it wouldn’t leave her. She felt as if she’d shatter with a single wrong move, break apart from the fury inside her.

The madness had come.

ADEN tugged Zaira back against him when she went silent, a rigid figure on her knees in the sand. She didn’t resist this time, but neither did she cooperate, her body stiff and her hands fisted. His own pulse was a drum, his fury for her a roar in his blood. “You’re safe,” he said, not sure what made him choose those words. “You’re safe. I’m here.”

Knowing the horrors of the mental landscape in which she might be trapped, he spoke to the nightmare. “You aren’t locked in that cell anymore.” Never again would anyone imprison her and he wouldn’t allow the past to, either. “You live in the light.”

She didn’t respond, didn’t say a word. It was as if she wasn’t there anymore, as if she’d gone far away from this world where she’d been tortured and hurt and made to see herself as a monster.

No. “I won’t let you go.” He had no compunction in ripping his own shields wide open for her. “I need you.”

Again, no verbal response, but when he eased her to the sand with him, she stretched out her legs. Keeping one arm under her neck and curving it around the front of her body, he put his other arm around her waist and held her tight against his own body so she’d remember this world, remember him. She was so still. Zaira was never still. There was too much fire inside her small form—and too much pain she’d never acknowledged.

It was pure chance he’d been there to stop her from killing the man who’d triggered her rage. Courtesy of Aden’s mother making a request to speak to Aden, Vasic had just brought him in from Central Command when Alejandro had run into the compound. Aden had known immediately that something was seriously wrong even before Alejandro said, “Zaira isn’t Zaira!”

The other man’s words circled in Aden’s skull now. Would the Zaira he knew come back to him? The Zaira who burned so bright even behind the strictures of Arrow discipline. The Zaira who saw parts of him no one else ever had. The Zaira who had always been his unspoken dream.

Or was she lost in a nightmare world formed of old horrors and older pain?

“Zaira,” he said again, his breath making a curl at her ear waft gently before lying back down against her skin. “Stay here. Stay with me.”

No answer.