Seek (The Unwelcome Trilogy Book 2) Read online

  Seek

  Book Two of The Unwelcome Trilogy

  R.D. Brady

  Books by R.D. Brady

  The Belial Series (in order)

  The Belial Stone

  The Belial Library

  The Belial Ring

  Recruit: A Belial Series Novella

  The Belial Children

  The Belial Origins

  The Belial Search

  The Belial Guard

  The Belial Warrior

  The Belial Plan

  The Belial Witches

  The Belial War

  The Belial Fall

  The Belial Sacrifice

  Stand-Alone Books

  Runs Deep

  Hominid

  The A.L.I.V.E. Series

  B.E.G.I.N.

  A.L.I.V.E.

  D.E.A.D.

  The Unwelcome Series

  Protect

  Seek

  Proxy

  Be sure to sign up for R.D.'s mailing list to be the first to hear when she has a new release!

  “Knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom.”

  - Aristotle

  “Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves.”

  - Henry David Thoreau

  1

  Lyla Richards stood in the remains of Attlewood. Three piles of dust were being slowly taken away by the wind. One was Angel, one of her Phoenixes. She wasn’t sure who the others were, but they had six people missing altogether. Six dust piles had been spotted, so they were all accounted for, though who was who would never be known.

  There was no time for a proper burial. But Jamal Nguyen, another Phoenix and one of Lyla’s best friends, was collecting their ashes into a wooden box. When they reached their new camp, they would have a ceremony.

  Right now, though, time was of the essence. They had defeated the Unwelcome contingent that had attacked the camp. It was only a matter of time before someone came looking for them. Lyla had sent Frank and Miles ahead with the wounded and those who would be moving slower, those with children and the elderly. She’d sent most of her Phoenixes with them as well. All that remained was a skeleton crew that was now combing through Attlewood for any supplies they might be able to use. It killed her that they had to leave most of what they had built behind. She and Frank had led Attlewood for years, finally achieving some safety, until the Unwelcome had ripped it all apart.

  “Lyla?” Her nephew, Riley, stepped from between two cabins that had belonged to the Carolinas and the Hallidons.

  Once again, she was struck by how grown he was. She still thought of him as her little nephew, the love of her sister Muriel’s life.

  She pictured him as he had been before the Unwelcome had arrived: tousled brown hair, blue eyes bright with mischief. Dirt smudged across his face and knees. He’d been adorable. Completely aware of her own bias, she still thought he was the most beautiful little boy she had ever seen.

  But that little boy wasn’t who walked toward her now. At seventeen, he had the strong muscular build of a man, although the smoothness of his face gave away his youth. And those blue eyes, once filled with such mischief, looked at her with determination. She shook off her remembrances, clearing her throat. “Yeah?”

  “We’ve done the last sweep. We found a few more supplies, blankets, a bag of oats in the back of the barn. I tied them to Jamal’s horse.”

  “Good. Well, I guess that’s it.” She took one last look around and headed for the entrance. A tall muscular woman with skin the color of rich chocolate turned at her approach, wearing a green-and-brown Phoenix cloak. Addie Hudson, one of the Phoenixes and Lyla’s other best friend, stood holding the reins of two horses. Next to her, Jamal secured the box of ashes to one of them. Addie’s eyes were bright, no doubt from holding back tears. Losing their people and leaving Attlewood wasn’t easy for any of them.

  But Addie’s voice was steady as she spoke. “You sure about this?”

  “Yeah. You guys catch up with the group. They’ll need all the help they can get. We’ll be along as fast as we can.”

  “You sure you don’t want the horses? It would probably speed up the trip.” Addie looked over Lyla’s shoulder to where the group who would be accompanying Lyla stood: Riley, Petra, Adros, Rory, and two Unwelcome, bound from hand to foot. Arthur would also be joining them; he was scouting ahead, making sure there were no more Unwelcome nearby.

  Lyla turned back to Addie. “No. You need to get to the rest of the camp quickly. That’s more important.”

  Lyla wasn’t sure how long it would take for the Unwelcome to respond to the missing ship and liaison, but they had to be aware by now. And they would send someone to check soon. Everyone from Attlewood needed to be long gone before that happened.

  Jamal nudged his chin toward the two prisoners. “What if they don’t cooperate?”

  Lyla flicked a glance over both of them. The male had blond hair. The female had short red hair, just like her brother. She was glad Arthur wasn’t nearby right now to hear her words. They were bringing the Unwelcome with them for questioning. They needed to learn all they could about what the Naku knew and what they planned. Killing them before, when they offered no threat, felt like murder. Even now, the thought of it felt cold blooded. But if they in any way endangered the people with her?

  She looked Jamal right in the eye. “Then they die.”

  2

  The lights that lined the dark-gray metallic floor emitted a soft hum. Xantar’s gray body was covered in a white tunic, and he wore slipper shoes on his feet, the material of both almost weightless. The fragile Naku bodies could not handle the friction of any heavier material against their skin.

  The hum followed Xantar as he made his way slowly down the hall. His legs ached today and had begun to shake even before he reached the end of the hall. He paused, one thin gray arm resting against the wall. In the muted white light, it looked even a few shades paler than the normal gray. His long fingers rested there, his large bony knuckles stark in the light.

  He tapped his wrist unit, and a door slid open down the hall. A whirring noise approached him. He turned as his glider lowered to the ground next to him. Grasping the railing along the top, he slid his body through the opening and sat down with a sigh. The foam on the seat cushioned his aching bones. More foam slid from the wall of the glider, encasing his legs and massaging his aching muscles.

  Ah, much better. He directed the glider to the control room. He had been notified that there was a problem with one of their veerfinah. The doors to the control room slid open at his approach. All Naku inside turned to him, placing one finger to their forehead before returning their focus to their work.

  Windows lined the far wall, providing a view of New City below and the land for miles around. Xantar did not even glance at it. Views were not important factors. Why the makers of the ship had thought to create a glass wall was beyond Xantar’s understanding.

  Fejel stepped away from his console. He was a younger Naku, with far fewer wrinkles on his face and an ability to stand for much longer periods of time. But his mind was not as finely attuned as Xantar’s. At one thousand three hundred years old, Xantar had accrued the most knowledge of any Naku on the ship, making him their leader. When he passed, the next oldest would take the mantle of authority. There was no ambition, no jealousy. Efficiency was the key to the Naku society—efficiency and unemotional reason.

  But in Xantar’s opinion, that lack of emotion was their one flaw. It made them reliant on others when dealing with more emotional species, like the humans.

  There were always risks with such species. They could not be trusted. They often said one thing and meant another. Their liaisons were kept on a tight leash, with constant mental probing to make sure their actions were being conducted in the best interest of the Naku. The probing, however, damaged their brains beyond repair within a few months, rendering them nonfunctional. But there were always more humans that could be utilized.

  Xantar focused his energy on Fejel, pulling his mental signature from the others in the room.

  One of their liaisons had disappeared with a contingent of avad, the Naku’s slaves who the humans had dubbed the Unwelcome. Has the liaison been found?

  Yes, Esteemed Leader. He is dead.

  By whose hand?

  Unclear. His contingent is dead as well.

  All of them?

  Two are missing, and based on the other avads at the scene, we deduce they are dead as well.

  Xantar paused at the unexpectedness of Fejel’s words. They had created the chelvah to be powerful. Their uniforms were designed to further protect them, as were their weapons. And they had been bred to follow the Naku’s orders unquestioningly. They could be killed. In fact, the Naku regularly did so when they reached a certain age. But them dying without the Naku’s orders was extremely unusual.

  How were they killed?

  Fejel frowned as he looked at his screen. Three were killed with a romag.

  The weapon of the chelvah. Shaped like a spear, it emitted a bolt of energy that reduced humans to ash. The uniforms of the chelvah insulated them from most of a romag strike unless in very close contact.

  Fejel continued. The other seven were killed by severe trauma, resulting in internal bleeding and broken necks.

  Xantar narrowed his eyes, Fejel’s words setting off a flurry of analysis within Xantar’s mind. That was not possible. There were no creatures on this planet capable of breaking a c
helvah’s neck.

  The human liaison was killed as well. He was stabbed.

  His death was of no consequence, but the method of death suggested a human was responsible.

  Where were they found?

  A human camp called Attlewood. It is affiliated with Lyla Richards.

  The woman they were searching for. There was something special about her, something she had in common with the Cursed. Which meant she and the Cursed were the reason he had lost a contingent of avad.

  Have them detain all members of the camp.

  The camp was deserted when the chelvah arrived.

  Have them search the area. Find the members of that camp. He paused, calculating the options. And send for the hunter.

  3

  The forest was still as Vellum walked through the undergrowth. His footsteps made little noise. Normally such a stillness would make Vel pause, knowing that the forest was warning him of danger ahead. But this danger he was expecting. Still, he paused behind a large Spanish moss before he reached the clearing, taking stock of what lay ahead.

  Four Unwelcome stood halfway between Vel and the middle of the clearing. They were spread out—two facing him and two with their backs to him. And in the middle of them sat the veerfinah, the Unwelcome ship, its ramp down. He eyed each of the Unwelcome. As always, they were completely covered from head to toe in their dark-blue skintight suits. The suits did nothing to hide the strength of the occupants they covered, although the dark helmets concealed their faces. Each Unwelcome was at least eight feet tall.

  Vel, who stood at six foot six, had never been in the company of any beings taller than him before the Unwelcome arrived. He was used to being the largest man in the room. He supposed he still was, because whatever the Unwelcome were, they certainly weren’t men. No man grew to those heights or widths. Vel was strong, extremely so, but even his muscles paled in comparison to the Unwelcome before him. And these weren’t even the largest Vel had ever seen. He’d seen one monster who easily stood ten feet. Although that Unwelcome had been unnaturally slow, and from the way the others treated him, most likely stupid. Apparently whatever genetic formula they’d used to create that one had not worked according to plan.

  Vel scanned the clearing once more, looking for any additional Unwelcome or a stray human, but there was no one. He stepped out from the trees and strode toward the Unwelcome. The two facing him whipped their heads toward him as he approached but made no move and no sound. The two from the other side of the ship moved to the base of the ramp. As Vel passed by the first two, they fell in step behind him. The other two headed up the ramp. Vel followed them. Once inside, the two Unwelcome disappeared into the cockpit. The other two closed the ramp behind him.

  Vel caught sight of his reflection in the metal that lined the ship’s wall. A ragged scar ran from his ear to jawline on the right-hand side of his face. On the other, a burn went from the edge of his eye down his neck. He glared at the image as he passed, curling his fist. Bastards.

  He walked to a seat and strapped himself in as the ship began to vibrate. Two Unwelcome sat across from him, strapping themselves in as the ship took flight. The only sound was the slight hum of the engine.

  No explanations of what Vel needed to do were offered. But no words were needed. After all, this was not Vel’s first trip on a veerfinah.

  The flight to New City only took twenty minutes. On foot, it would have taken two days. Vel felt the change in height as they began to ascend. For just a moment, the faint stirrings of fear fluttered in his gut. He didn’t like going to the mothership. Normally he only had to deal with that rat of a human Chad Keyes.

  But apparently whatever the Naku wanted, it required a special audience. He slowly reached down and stroked the hilt of the serrated knife at his waist. The feel of the cool ivory under his fingertips calmed him. They needed him. He did not need them. He would be fine. And if he wasn’t, well, he had learned through trial and error that the Unwelcome had a weakness in their armor: the spot where their helmets met their suits. It was unprotected. And he would not hesitate to exploit that weakness if needed.

  The ship slowed, and two minutes later he felt a small jolt as they landed. The Unwelcome across from him unbuckled. Vel did the same. He cracked his knuckles as they lowered the ramp. Without a glance toward him, the two Unwelcome headed down the ramp. Vel followed as the other two emerged from the cockpit. Both followed him down the ramp, and one started to check the outside of the ship while the other stayed behind Vel.

  Another veerfinah flew over them, heading for the exit, the downwash rustling his hair. It only emitted the slightest of hums. There were about a dozen other veerfinah lined up silently along the bay. This was only one of twenty landing bays on the mothership. He didn’t know what the other ones looked like, as they always brought him to the same bay, obviously not wanting to give away too much.

  The only reason he knew how many landing bays there were was he had spent two weeks camped out below, just watching the mothership, taking note of the number of ships flying to and fro. Watching the lights to see if there was any pattern. He’d learned a few things but nothing too critical. But information was always helpful. The Unwelcome veered to the left at the end of the row of ships, heading for a single metal door.

  The Unwelcome on the left waved his arm over the door, and the bracelet at the cuff of his uniform lit up for a second before the door slid open with a puff of air.

  The Unwelcome slowed as they started down the hall, needing to duck a little to compensate for the ceilings, which stood at eight feet. Dark tiles lined the floor, contrasting with the bright white of the walls and ceiling. The Unwelcome continued down the hall, their shoulders hunched the entire walk. This ship hadn’t been created for the Unwelcome. Which begged the question: Who exactly had it been built for? It was possible it had been built for the Naku, who were smaller in stature, but Vel wasn’t entirely convinced of that.

  The hunching meant a slower pace, which meant he was able to keep up easily with his guard. Doors lined the hall, but Vel only knew that from past experience. Walking by them, the outlines of the doors were completely hidden.

  At the end of the hall, the Unwelcome turned right. Here the ceiling sprang up to fifteen feet, allowing the Unwelcome to straighten to their full height. They passed open archways that led to comfortable seating areas with glass windows. More proof in Vel’s mind that this ship hadn’t been created for the Unwelcome. He had never seen one sitting down. He certainly had never seen one socialize or relax. No, this ship had had a different purpose in the past. The hallway was long and lined with the archways on both sides. While the left held the seating areas with the long windows, the right held small tables and chairs. It looked like an eating area. Vel had never seen the Unwelcome do that either.

  Ahead, a set of ornate doors stood closed. They looked like they were made with wrought iron over ivory. The wrought iron wove in and around it, creating intricate patterns that resembled vines and flowers unlike any seen on Earth. The ivorylike substance behind it almost seemed to glow.

  The Unwelcome strode toward it. Once again the Unwelcome on the left waved his arm over a panel outside the door. The door did not spring open immediately. Vel came to a halt behind them just as the doors opened inward.

  One of the Unwelcome glanced back at him before stepping inside. The ceiling in here was even higher, reaching to at least thirty feet. The room was circular, with seven additional doorways, equally ornate, on this side. A platform had been raised on the far side of the room, hovering five feet off the ground. Six additional Unwelcome stood guard at the edge of the platform. The Unwelcome that had accompanied Vel moved to the side of the doorway and stood at attention. Vel strode toward the platform. His footfalls, though slight, seemed to echo off the material of the floor. It looked like shiny concrete in blues and greens. Every once in a while it would change color, adding a pink, orange, or yellow.

  He continued walking until he reached a black spot on the floor in front of the platform. He stopped there, waiting.