Destiny Rising Read online

  “Helping you out of your clothes, or were you planning to sleep in your shirt and pants?” His forehead lifts and a grin curves up the corners of his mouth.

  “Sounds fine to me.” I’m content to sweat in my clothes.

  “Ariana,” Cal says, exasperation in his tone. “It’s not like I haven’t already seen you naked so I don’t understand the big deal. I’m just helping you into your sleep clothes. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I gulp, realizing I’m being silly. Taking a deep breath, I lecture my inner self-consciousness, telling myself to grow up. Cal quietly replaces my clothes for my sleep shorts and tank top, taking extra care to be gentle. Then he tucks the comforter up to my chin and plants a soft kiss on my forehead. I’m asleep before he has even returned with the promised glass of water.

  The sickness hasn’t abated the next morning, and I don’t object when Cal insists that I stay in bed. While he goes in search of breakfast, I try to empty my brain and will my body to fall back asleep. But it’s a futile exercise. I can’t switch my mind off, and now that there is nothing to distract me, everything that I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about rises to the fore.

  The return of my pregnancy sickness has brought the issue of the baby to the forefront of my mind again. I’m still feeling conflicted over it. I don’t know that I’m ready to be a mom or that I even know how. These days, I’m barely capable of looking after myself, let alone a dependent child. Cal will be an amazing father; I have total confidence in him. It’s just me that I have little faith in.

  And then there’s Zane. With a heavy heart, I realize that I need to accept that he’s gone; lost to me and this world forever. If there’s one thing I know about Zane, it’s that he would never let so much time go without contacting me. If he were alive, he would have found a way to connect with me by now. A sharp pain pierces my chest and gut-wrenching sobs lie entrenched in my throat. A deep ache builds inside me, and I feel crushing weight settle in every part of my body.

  Everything that I feel for him, and have felt for him in the past, mixes with the confusion and sense of helplessness I feel when I think of what I’ve done. Of what happened to … Siva. I finally force myself to confront his name, and the images of that terrible morning swamp my mind. Pressing my palms to my forehead, I try to scrub my brain, desperately wishing I could reverse the clock and remain blissfully unaware.

  Zane is the only other person in this entire world that knows what happened that fateful day. And now he is gone. And I’m left shouldering the burden of it and dealing with the overwhelming guilt all on my own.

  Oh, Zane. Where are you? You can’t be gone. This is all my fault. What happened to Dad, Mom, Cal, you. It’s all on me. I brought this on us with my actions. I need to talk to you about it. I need you.

  Tears leak out of my eyes, and I tug the comforter up over my head. How I wish I could inject myself with the Nostalgia elixir all over again, to wipe this permanently from my mind.

  This changes everything.

  Cal will never be able to accept this. And what about Deacon? What is Cal going to think when he finds out that Deacon is his half-brother? That his Dad craves a relationship with him? Part of me can’t understand how Mom could do this. But there’s that other part of me that can readily relate because I feel a pull in two different directions too.

  The sound of approaching voices brings me back to the here and now. I swipe my hand under my eyes and smooth away the tears just as the door slides open and Cal appears in the room, flanked by Ben and Ruby. Strange smells waft from the covered plate in his hand and I gag. He steps forward quickly. “Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

  Slamming my hand over my mouth, I shake my head. “Can you just get that out of here?” I ask, pointing to the plate.

  Cal frowns. “You need to eat something, Ariana.”

  “I can’t stomach anything now and that is making me feel sicker.” I pinch my nose closed with my thumb and forefinger attempting to block out the noxious odor. Cal steps out into the corridor, depositing the offending plate on the floor.

  Once the door has closed, I release my nose. The smell still lingers, and I look around for a window, before remembering that we’re underwater. A small laugh escapes my mouth. Cal peers at me questionably. “I was looking for the window,” I explain.

  “It takes some getting used to, doesn’t it?” Ruby says, perching carefully on the edge of the bed.

  I straighten upright and press a hand over my hair self-consciously. I’m fairly certain I’m sporting a particularly nasty case of bed-head hair, and not the sexy, alluring kind. “That it does. The whole place smells so weird. Though, that could just be me.” Sudden realization hits me. My whole sense of smell has been totally whacko since I got pregnant.

  “No, I agree. It smells so”—her eyes glaze over as she tries to identify the right word—“sterile and starched.”

  We grin at each other. “How’s your leg?” I ask, inwardly cringing as I recall her ear-piercing screams back at the Clementia compound when she was trapped under a large piece of fallen debris.

  “I’m just like this place now,” she says, flexing her leg with remarkable ease, “all shiny and new.” The wonders of modern medicine.

  Cal and Ben wander off in search of Xander, leaving Ruby and I alone to chat. Though I have much to tell her, I don’t utter a word. Instead, I focus on an easier topic of conversation. “So, dish the dirt.” I drill her with a curious look.

  “What?” she asks, palms raised in front of her.

  “A few days ago, you said you had a hot boy of your own. Deets, please.”

  Her skin flushes ever so slightly. “It’s nothing really. Um.” I stare at her. I’ve never seen her this tongue-tied. “I kissed Jaden.”

  “Whoa! Hold up there. Jaden? As in Jaden Remus? Cal’s brother?” She nods shyly. “Totally didn’t see that coming,” I admit, tipping back against my pillow as a burst of nausea rises in my throat. “Seriously?” My face contorts unpleasantly. I honestly can’t fathom the attraction. Though he’s Cal’s brother, he is nothing like my fiancé, in either the looks or personality department. In fact, most of the time, I find him quite reprehensible.

  “I know you have issues with him, but I think there’s more to him than meets the eye.”

  “I’ll have to take your word for it.”

  “It’s not like it’s a big deal, anyways,” she says, thrusting her fingers through her short dark hair. “It was only a kiss. Albeit, a pretty damn impressive one.” She smirks. Perhaps the brothers do have something in common, after all.

  “So, are there any labels? What’s going on now?” I inquire.

  “No, nothing like that. Then again, we were rather pre-occupied with our near-miss annihilation. You remember?”

  “Hard to forget something like that.” My mood instantly darkens.

  “Things have gotten really crazy, haven’t they?”

  “Yep, you said it. It feels like I’m on a constant merry-go-round, lurching from one scary ride to another.”

  “Wonder what the next one has in store?” Ruby ponders, eyeballing me. “Did your dad say anything about your likely assignment?

  “No. We haven’t spoken about that.” There wasn’t time in between all the other dramas being played out.

  “I hope I’m assigned to the lab. I actually can’t wait; it’ll be good to have a purpose. To be doing something useful for a change.”

  I haven’t given any thought to what I’ll likely be doing, but now that Ruby has thrown down the gauntlet, I wonder what they have in mind for me. I can relate to Ruby’s sentiments. I’m itching to contribute to the revolutionary effort, though I think both Cal and Dad may have something to say about that. They can voice their objections all they want, but I will fulfill all that I’ve been trained to do. Being a soldier is all that I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember, and I’ll be damned if a little fact like being pregnant is going to hold me back.

  The next couple of days
pass by in agonizingly slow fashion. We are all bored silly at this stage. The nausea comes and goes but it’s manageable. Much to Cal’s disgust, Taylor has been personally assigned to care for me. I suspect Calista Corr has had a hand in that. While Dr. Taylor Jennings is the most outrageous flirt known to mankind, I couldn’t be in safer hands. He is Saoirse’s most prodigious doctor, and there’s no denying the man is a genius. I’m just grateful that whatever anti-sickness injection he’s giving me grants a reprieve from feeling ill all the time.

  I’ve barely seen Dad so there’s been no time to continue the conversation. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he was avoiding me. Commander Remus is also in the thick of it, so there’s been little opportunity for him to speak with Cal. Perhaps, I should’ve told him about Deacon, but I’m fearful that it’s going to be the cause of further discord between us and I’m loath to go there. Plus, I figure it’s something his dad should tell him. Nonetheless, I’ve been encouraging him on a daily basis to seek him out. The longer this goes on, the guiltier I feel for not divulging what I know.

  I’m still trying to work out how I feel about it and worrying over the potential fallout. It doesn’t appear likely that Commander Remus will drop the subject, so we are going to have to tell Deacon and Lily about it soon. I can’t even contemplate what it’s going to do to my little brother. To find out that the man you think is your father actually isn’t has got to be one of the most shocking things you could ever discover about yourself. He’s too young to be told, and it’s the last thing any of us should be considering dealing with given our current fragile situation. But I know Cal’s dad is stubborn, and I sense he’s not going to let this drop.

  We’re sitting in the cafeteria eating dinner and the normalcy is comforting. Lily sits to my right, deep in conversation with Ruby about her medical training. She’s already been assigned to the Medical Center, and from what she tells me, Taylor has taken her under his wing. I make a mental note to caution Taylor from exerting his usual flirtatiousness around her. She’s only just turned fifteen, and I can tell from the way she talks about him that she’s rocking a major crush. The last thing she needs is for him to indulge it in any way.

  Cal taps on my arm, distracting me from my thoughts. “Hey, you in there?” he asks, his fingers lingering on my skin.

  “Sorry. I was miles away.”

  “You’ve been doing that a lot the last few days,” he admits, staring at me inquisitively.

  I shrug. “There’s a lot going on.” Lifting my fork, I stab a potato. “Have you tracked down your dad yet?”

  “Yeah. He wants to talk to me in the morning.”

  Tightness stretches across my chest and I shift in my chair. “Good.” I shove a hunk of meat into my mouth and ignore the pensive way Cal is looking at me.

  “You know what it is? Don’t you?” There’s no avoiding his probing gaze so I decide to come clean.

  “Yes,” I admit, putting my cutlery down.

  He leans back in his chair, his fists clenched at his sides. “I thought we agreed no more secrets?” he grits out.

  “Yes, we did. But I’m not the one keeping this secret from you. And before you start criticizing, it’s not something you should hear from me. We can talk about it in the morning after you speak with your dad.”

  He opens his mouth to respond, but the words die on his tongue as the large screen at the back of the cafeteria springs to life. Nothing, or no one, could quiet the entire room so rapidly. All eyes focus on the government seal and then President Calavero’s image appears in front of us.

  “Citizens of Novo and Earth,” he begins. I squirm in my seat at the sight of him and a deep shudder works its way through my body. Fleeting thoughts that he could be my baby’s daddy always have this effect on me. Mentally shaking myself, I focus my attention on the broadcast.

  “It has recently come to our attention that a group of unorganized militants have attempted to undermine the authority of the government by instigating rebellion. Such monstrous intentions threaten the future of our world and all that we’ve worked so hard to achieve in the last few years.” A chorus of jeers and blasphemies are shouted at the screen.

  “I want to assure you that the government is taking all necessary actions to quash this threat and restore peace. If you are approached by anyone representing or claiming to represent this group, I advise you to exercise extreme caution. Any individual discovered to be colluding with the enemy will be immediately guilty of treason. All acts of treason are punishable by death or lifetime incarceration as decided by the Military Council on Novo.”

  The image switches from the President to the exterior of NSAF. A row of Rangers, pristine in their uniforms, line up outside the main entrance. A group of seven men is on their knees in front of them. Hands cuffed behind their backs, they stare blankly at the screen. Blood stampedes through my veins and bile rises in my throat. I watch in complete shock as the Rangers aim and take fire. Seven bodies slump to the ground and horrified screams fill the air around me.

  Next, the image switches to Earth, to a compound identified as a local rebel base in Texas. We watch, powerless, as the government fleet drop missile after missile on the Clementia facility, sending a huge spiral of smoke and fire shooting into the air.

  The President finishes his rousing speech with a reminder to avoid all interaction with rebels or be prepared to pay the ultimate price. Then the screen blacks out.

  It works as a very successful mood-killer, pretty much eradicating all conversation in the room. The previous light-hearted atmosphere is gone, replaced by a formidable sense of unease.

  Cal and I spend a couple of hours in the Training Unit, which is similar in layout and structure to the one in the Clementia compound, though it’s been super-sized. I’m pleased to discover that Agent Leena has been assigned to look after the training here as well; it’s good to know we’re in competent hands.

  We are walking back toward our apartment when the drone of matching footsteps causes us both to swivel around at the same time. At least a hundred soldiers, all clad in khaki green and black attire march uniformly forward. Each soldier shoulders a large rifle and carries a black satchel on his back. Anxiousness bleeds into the air. Their expressions are grim but resolute as they stride out of our line of sight. “That must be one of the first ground force units,” Cal says. “I hope they announce our assignments shortly before I crack up.”

  “Where do you want to be assigned?” I ask, not actually needing an answer.

  “I’d like to be part of the ground team.”

  “Me, too,” I admit, pleased that we’re both on the same page.

  His brow puckers and he opens his mouth to speak but obviously thinks better of it. However, he forgets that I can sense his emotions and disapproval leaches out of him in spades. Anger flares instantly inside me, and I’m on the verge of venting my feelings when he dips his head and plants a soft kiss on my lips. “Don’t say it. I don’t want to fight.”

  And neither do I, because we’ve only just gotten over our last disagreement and I can only guess how things are going to go down once he finds out what his dad has to tell him in the morning. This argument can wait.

  Ben is lying on his side in bed, messing around with a handheld digital screen. He’s so engrossed that he doesn’t even hear us enter or lift his head until Cal slaps him firmly on the back and snatches his attention. Shaking my head, I trot into the compact bathroom and change into my sleep clothes. I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Bruising shadows darken the skin under my eyes and my grayish pallor highlights the effects of my pregnancy sickness and lack of adequate sleep. I look like a hot mess though that’s the least of my concerns. Sighing, I open the door and join the others.

  Ben’s close proximity does nothing to dampen Cal’s grabby hands, and in next to no time, I’m feeling all hot and bothered under the covers. His body lines up behind mine, and I can tell he’s dying to get all kinds of naughty, but there’s no way I’m havin
g a repeat of the other morning. Nuh-uh. That’s definitely not happening. I still haven’t gotten over the embarrassment. So, I shove his hands away and move forward, creating some much-needed space. His head appears on my shoulder and I sigh loudly. “Behave,” I hiss under my breath.

  “Spoil sport,” he mutters, brushing aside my hair and kissing my neck. I instantly flinch and his smug laugh tickles my eardrums. Settling back down on the bed, his arm snakes out and he tugs me back against his chest. “Go to sleep, baby,” he whispers. “I’ll behave. Scout’s honor.” I snort and Ben’s head swivels around. He shoots us a quick warning glance, and I force my eyes shut and will myself to sleep.

  Zane is lying inert on a steel counter, a white sheet draped loosely over his lower body. Circular discs dot his chest in a strangely artistic format. The glare from the bright lights glints off the clinical, clean surfaces. A man steps forward, clothed in a blue gown with his hair secured under a matching blue hat. Raising gloved hands, he hovers over Zane and forces his eyelids open with one hand. He shines the flashlight into one eye, then the other. Turning around, he shakes his head at the man standing behind him. The man advances toward Zane, a silver blade in his hand. Dipping down, he raises his hand, and I watch in horror as he slices across Zane’s immobile chest.

  CHAPTER 4

  I’m surprised my screams haven’t roused the entire compound. I can still see Zane’s limp body as the man prepared to butcher him. A loud wail emits from my throat and I’m rocking back and forth on the bed, my arms clutched around my waist, desperately trying to hold myself together. I’m vaguely aware of Cal and Ben talking in hushed voices.

  The click of the door as it closes startles me. “Baby,” Cal says, cupping my face. He kneels in front of me, eyes flaring with concern. “Tell me what you saw.”

  I drag my lower lip between my teeth. My chest heaves as sobs clog the back of my throat. “It was Zane,” I say, sniffling. Cal’s fingers caress my skin in smooth circular patterns, and I focus on that activity to distract myself. “He wasn’t moving,” I whisper. “He … they …”