Queen of Spades: Awakening: Queen of Spades, #1

By E. J. Dawson

Ayla is a villain. With a gift that allows her to see when anyone will die, she's remorseless in her profession as the perfect assassin. When she wakes up in a cryo-tank three thousand years in the future, and no idea how she came to be there, all that matters is survival.

Rescued by Leith and the crew of the Nuria, Ayla discovers a far evolved world of space ships and galactic colonization. But everything comes with a price, and though Ayla is no princess locked in an icy tower, she still has to pay for the rescue she didn't know she needed.

Given over to Leith, a darkly handsome man who reads Ayla far easier than she'd like, they must work together if Ayla is to repay her debt. As the pair come to learn how dangerous one another are, so too grows a lustful bond that comes with rules of its own. Fighting to learn why she was frozen, Ayla's dragged into Leith's past with a criminal organization seeking to take over this sector of the galaxy. In order to survive, Leith will need Ayla's help, but Ayla doesn't know if she's willing to pay what it will cost her…

• Language: English
• Publisher: E. J. Dawson
• Release date: Apr 10, 2020
• ISBN: 9780648222439

Book preview

Acknowledgements

Thanks to my CP’s, Jenn & Heather.

Editor: Marcus Vance (marcusvance.wordpress.com)

Proofreader: Jennifer Jarrett (JennJarrettEdits.com.)

Cover: Violeta Nedkova (violetanedkova.com)

Queen of Spades Trilogy

Awakening

Darkening

Reckoning

Copyright © E. J. Dawson

FIRST EDITION PUBLISHED April 10 2020

This is a work of fiction and all references to people, places or events are entirely coincidental.

This book may not be reproduced in any form, either electronically or in print without written consent from the author.

ISBN: 978-0648222439

Dedication

This is for my husband and all the non-toxic men out there who just want the best for their friends, partners, wives, and women in their lives. You are good guys. You are the Leith's. Still sexy AF.

Prologue

HANG IT HIGHER, AYLA. That’s it.

Ayla tweaked a thread over the pine’s needles so that the little, turquoise ball shimmering with silver glitter spun gently on its branch and held.

Beautiful, the melodious voice complimented.

Ayla smiled over her shoulder at Izzy before turning back to the tree, working out where the next spot to hang a decoration should be. She plucked a giant, fat berry of a ball from the box, silver banding it like a spider’s thread. It needed to go lower.

I’m going for a swim, her brother, Seth, called from the door.

The ball dropped from her fingers and bounced on the carpet, and she only had a moment to breathe in relief that it didn’t shatter before she whirled around to face him. He was already in his favorite, green swimming shorts, a towel over his shoulder and defiance in every line of his face.

No, Mom left me in charge until she picks up Dad. You can’t leave the house, Ayla said, and Izzy didn’t contradict her, even though she was the adult here. She stayed lounging on the couch, one arm propping her head up, the other holding a nearly finished cocktail.

Seth shook his head, and Ayla clenched her hands even as he spoke.

She didn’t say you had to keep me inside all day. I’m old enough to go by myself.

You’re ten! Go read a book or watch TV. They’ll be home any minute, and we haven’t seen Dad in three months. Don’t you think they’ll want you to be here? She implored instead and the mutinous glare in Seth’s eyes faded.

Fine, he sulked, stomping off upstairs to his room.

You needn’t be so mean, they won’t be back for another few hours, and it’s so hot, Izzy gulped her spiked iced tea, beads of sweat on her brow.

Ayla bent to retrieve the forgotten decoration. It’s not the point. He can’t go to the lake today. It was so important that he didn’t go to the lake. Except she’d been told not to say why. Mom had told her that of all the people in the world, she mustn’t tell Seth what she knew.

She hung the bulbous ornament on a lower branch, happy with how the tree was turning out: surrounded in Dad’s favorite colors and topped with a silver star. She’d decorate it, Dad would be home, or what counted for home on the other side of the world, and everything would be as normal.

At least for her.

Izzy shrugged. I can go with him.

No! Ayla said. No . . . stay here. We should all stay here until Mom and Dad get home.

Izzy stared at Ayla with a quirked brow, but Ayla was used to that look. Izzy was just the help, but when Ayla’s parents weren’t here, she relaxed, and they never told on her. She cleaned up after Mom when things got ugly. And they’d been dreadful lately.

Can you pass me another green one?

You like green, don’t you? Izzy handed over another, stepping away to the bar to refill her drink. You know Seth is only a couple of years younger than you⸺

Two years and five months. There wouldn’t be any way she’d forget it. Izzy sighed and kept mixing her drink, so Ayla got the next bauble from the box.

There was a crash and Ayla looked toward her, but she was staring at the ceiling. What was that? Did that come from upstairs?

Seth! Ayla raced across the living room to the stairs, slipping on wood and hitting her knee, hobbling up the last turn. She could see into her brother’s room, where the French doors were open to the summer breeze from the balcony. Another banging noise, this time on the side of the house, followed by a short scream. Then silence.

Oh god! Oh god, Ayla, get the phone. Izzy was screaming downstairs. Ayla ran, grabbing the handset off the end of the bar.

Ayla knew already. Seth was dead.

It didn’t slow her down. She ran out onto the veranda, bare feet slapping on the timber deck. Jackaranda trees swayed over the house. Their wide branches hadn’t been strong enough to support him. Seth lay on his back, eyes wide and vacant. Izzy was beside him, blowing into his mouth, but it didn’t matter.

Call an ambulance, now, Izzy said between breaths, and Ayla’s fingers pushed the buttons.

"Operator, what is your emergency?"

My brother, he fell off the roof. He’s dead.

"Is there an adult there?"

Yes, but she’s giving him CPR. It doesn’t matter, he’s dead . . .  She couldn’t see, everything was blurry.

"Not if she’s doing CPR, I need you to tell me where you live so I can send an ambulance . . . "

There was no one to send for⸺Death was already here collecting the foolish brother Ayla hadn’t let go to the lake. But if she had, he would have drowned. Wouldn’t he?

Ayla had tried to avoid his fate, and if she couldn’t change it for the person she loved most in the world, then she couldn’t change it for anyone.

Chapter 1

THERE’S NOTHING IN the blackness.

No light. No sound. No escape.

Forever sinking in a timeless sphere.

Nevertheless . . . she was awake.

Floating in a void, only burgeoning awareness battled the slick restraints about her mind that were trying to curl her back into Morpheus’s embrace. Holding her a captive to sleep.

The struggle stirred her from slumber. She fought for each trickling thought as the hush lulled her. The warmth and safety weren’t a balm she wanted. With no perceived existence, cognizance spilled from her consciousness, slipping away like sand between her fingers.

She clenched her fists. Held nothing in hands she couldn’t see.

Incited, she rebelled at the confinement.

The barest ripple touched her, coming from the heart of the abyss.

Something out there sought her, and she wanted to answer it.

This was a prison, and someone was pounding on the walls.

A shadow called within her, one she wasn’t frightened of but welcomed like an old lover, gone too long, leaving her alone in the dark. A power to see inside the soul of someone and know when they would die. Not the circumstance. Not the time. Not the year. Just the day and the month.

Death day.

It led her to the stirring of time, a calendar counting down.

The intangible beat of life, a thrum she heard without ears. Along the thread she followed, sound growing with every pull. Dull ringing echoed through her, as though the noise traveled through water. The knowledge of death restored spatial sensation.

Akin to the moment flesh is pierced, only when the blood wells does pain blossom.

A current sparked through her, drawing agony in its wake.

Pain pierced through the darkness, streaks of silver that stung every square inch of her flesh. They darted from the night around her, sharks seeking the kill. Her body was trapped, throat constricting as she tried to cry out.

Bones bent, muscles spasmed, nerves burned.

She curled in on herself, willing it away, fighting for control. The movements only served to make everything hurt, sucking her last ounce of strength and slowing her heart. The hammering that had awakened her came further and further apart, bringing true death ever closer.

Ice struck her heart and vision returned.

A man stood over her, sweat pouring from his brow, hand on a syringe plunged in her chest.

Blue eyes like the ocean, blonde ponytail. A stranger’s face.

Death day: June twenty-eight.

She absorbed the time he had left, the calendar within him slumbering; a death day not for years to come. But even with its quiet, it didn’t change that she did not know him and was at his mercy.

Lethargy evaporated and, in its place, burned resentment at her chaotic rebirth, a fury goaded by confusion and self-preservation. Lying naked on a metallic table, bursting with adrenaline, she attacked.

Reaction was faster than thought; she yanked the needle out at the same time her hand struck his throat. Gasping, he doubled over, enough of a window for her to pluck the gun from the holster on his hip. Soft in her steel grip, it fit neatly in her palm, her finger tense on the trigger.

The stranger grabbed the edge of the table, struggling to stay on his feet.

With no time to wonder at the viscous liquid all over her body, she sat upright to spin off the edge of the table, sliding behind him to grab his ponytail and yank his head back to meet the barrel of the gun.

Don’t move, she warned, eyes scanning about her. He lifted his hands, and between his upraised arms she scanned the rest of the room. Stained concrete walls, watermarks, crates of equipment stacked against walls. One distant bay door, ten meters high. And fifteen staring sets of eyes between her and the exit.

Sweet starfire, one swore. She’s awake?

Easy lady, a nearby man said, hands pacifyingly wide. But she saw from his tensed legs he was preparing to jump her. Due to die on September sixth. The date was loud, an echo of the pulse in her ears screaming soon, soon, soon.

Confusion threatened to overwhelm her.

Where am I? Her voice burned in her throat, itchy and aching as though she’d inhaled a room full of smoke. The pain’s effect was debilitated by the shot of adrenaline, and details sunk into her hyper-focused mind as she studied them. Easily petty thugs from tattoos and appearance, wearing the same grey jumpsuits, all of them armed. Nothing about the emblems on the crates or the uniforms of the men triggered her memories.

Three wore metallic suits, an unfamiliar armor.

Flexible metal plates covered them head to toe, except for a black strip across their eyes. Dual pistols at their hips, two had their hands on their weapons. They hadn’t aimed at her yet, but she wasn’t counting on the situation to stay that way. She couldn’t see their dates behind their visors, but the others sung the same one.

September twenty-third.

Each bore a calendar date that was shrieking at her senses; the louder the noise, like a beating heart of disappearing seconds, the closer the date, and everyone in the room was due to die within weeks. She could sense it like she could pick out colors or hold a gun. The difference between a distant whisper, barely heard, and the sound of screaming from a foot away. An ingrained memory unequivocally certain in her mind.

She needed to escape if she was to avoid their fate.

An armored man walked through the throng toward her, steps slow and measured. The only difference between him and the others were his bare arms, intricate silver tattoos contrasting with his dark brown skin.

He stopped a few meters away without her demanding he keep his distance. His relaxed stance should have told her he wasn’t alarmed, but there was something in her that recognized a danger coiled within him; he wouldn’t need a weapon to kill her.

Answer the question or I shoot, she said, keeping her hand tight around the prisoner’s ponytail for good measure. Where am I?

Even if you do, the leader said, voice disembodied by the helmet, the odds aren’t in your favor.

She scanned the room again. The men might be thugs, but their hands dropped towards their weapons. Each one was an opponent whose motivations were an utter mystery. Crates laid open, trolleys half loaded near the doorway. Whatever they were here for, they were getting. That could well include her.

Slimy gel covered the concrete beneath her feet. The air was musty, a chill brushing her bare skin, an unwanted touch. Underground. Deep if she had to hazard a guess. Not a good place to get lost in, an unknown rabbit warren, but it was better than staying here.

I just want to leave, she said.

Not like this. The brute shook his head.

She didn’t like her chances.

Even if she took down the three, armored men, that left twelve more. And the drug was fading out of her system fast. She fought not to shake her head as her vision started to fade. Only her rigid control stopped her legs from shaking. She had less than a few minutes before they gave out.

No scrap of memory gave her the answers she needed or the capacity to list her options. If she wanted to decide what to do, it needed to be soon.

The thug on her right took the opportunity of her hesitation, leaping towards her.

Her reflexes were silken as she slipped inside his mind, found the date he’d die, September sixth. She looked into the man’s eyes, wrapped invisible hands around the date, and tore. Like a calendar on a desk, flipping pages, shred the date, steal time.

Pain flickered, pinching her eyesight, but it was nothing compared to the man’s reaction. His lunge fell short, stumbling to one knee, putting him in a perfect position. She twisted her gun hand toward him. It was September fifth, good to know.

No indecision as she squeezed the trigger.

A spasm of light hit him square in the temple, and he crumpled to his face. There wasn’t even blood. He could have tripped and fallen if it wasn’t for the stillness within him. Definitely dead.

Everyone stopped, faces turning towards the downed man. And her, staring at the gun she didn’t recognize in her hand. Nothing moved for too many moments.

The leader took two swift steps forward. She saw it in her peripheral and swung the gun back to her hostage’s head.

Not another step. She was already trying to reach around the leader’s mask, do as she’d done to the dead guy. Changing the date gave her the seconds of shock she needed to get the advantage.

Wait, her hostage shouted. Just give me a second, Leith. I don’t want to end up fried.

Not going to let that happen to you, Kabe, Leith, the leader, said with ease. He waved down the man on Ayla’s right, who was twitching to have a go.

Not up to you, she said, but she felt the fine trembling in her legs spread to her hands. No amount of determination would keep her on her feet.

Listen, Kabe said, swallowing against the angle she’d pulled his neck into. You’re confused. You don’t know where you are. I get that. But in a couple of minutes that adrenaline will wear off, and you’ll be down for the count.

She pulled his hair again. Thanks for the warning.

Lean on the table, or sit on it, Kabe said, just don’t fry me by accident!

Leith held up his hand, and the others moved away from her, giving her more space.

She wanted to get to the exit.

Leith still stood in her way.

Out those doors are the same people who’ve been holding you captive, and by judging, against your will, he said, folding his arms over his broad chest. If you shoot us or go out there without backup, you’ll get fried or recaptured. I sure as dark don’t want to take you with us, but I’ll leave you here if you kill anyone else.

Captive? She tasted the word, lip curling in a sneer. By who?

Aquacore. Leith pointed to her hostage. Kabe here’s our ship’s doc and thought you might like to get out. He’s the reason you’re alive, given we couldn’t take your cell with us. When he gestured behind her she didn’t turn, but the gel squishing between her toes, and what it meant about where she’d been kept, was damaging her finite control.

She adjusted her grip on the gun, disliking how alien the model felt in her palm.

Come with us, Leith said, or stay here. Those are your options. Your ability to choose which will run out in three . . . two . . . one.

She let Kabe go. He doubled over with his hand holding his throat, retreating from her.

Good choice, Leith said. An armored man came to his side, handing him a square of cloth he held out to her. Not that you aren’t a fine woman, but you want to put something on.

He tossed it to her, the cloth a distraction. His thighs tightened as he sprang to disarm her.

She dropped to one knee, shooting him through the cloth. The light flew to his armor, and he grunted as the impact hit him, slowing his progress. He was still moving too fast for a second shot.

His leg whipped out, faster than she could see, sending the gun skittering to the floor. She tried to side sweep with her leg to cripple him behind his knee, but the impact was only enough to buckle it, armored suit taking the brunt of the impact. He dove for her throat, and she scrambled out of reach. She couldn’t hit him hard enough.

Her back slid across snaking tentacles.

She jerked back when they moved; no amount of self-preservation stopped her turning around to see what she had fallen on.

Cables.

Ropes of soft tubes.

Biological rather than plastic, spilling their contents onto the floor.

They lay on the ground, covered in blood, threading crimson through the green gel.

Her eyes trailed up their lengths to a huge tank, half full of liquid. Lying on an incline, the tank’s glass lid was open, a host of squirming cables pouring out gallons of liquid all over the floor. It was clear the occupant of the chamber had just been evicted.

Nobody got prizes for guessing who.

Screens hanging above the chamber were blank except one that still held an image of a suspended woman. Hooked up to those machines and cables. It was her; she recognized that face.

Olive skin, long dark lashes with dark hair fanning about her sleeping form. She’d always kept it short, but now the wet ends slapped against the tops of her thighs. A pretty face with pouting lips, sharp jawline. Her eyes were closed in the image, but she knew they were brown.

Why was everything else so hard to remember?

She’d been cryogenically frozen and left, wherever this was, alone.

To lay suspended, trapped, with no will of her own.

Her mind flooded with bone-shattering rage. No explanation, no vision, and no person’s name came to her—only a wave of unimaginable hatred. The wrath at being left behind in time was a physical blow. It was wrong to leave her imprisoned, worse still to have left her there for who knows how long.

She drew her knees to her chest, losing herself staring up at the image on the screen. There was something wrong with her, but she could no more specify it than describe the dark side of the sun.

Leith hadn’t made a move to touch her, though she felt his presence behind her.

What happened to me? she whispered, barely loud enough to carry on her breath.

He knelt by her side. A hissing noise made her turn, and she saw that he’d taken his helmet off.

She stared into dark eyes, deep set and intense as they watched her. Amber dark skin of his head was left bare to the light, hair completely shaven, it left his eyes all the more stunning with his features. Chiseled with strong jawline and cheekbones, handsome but almost too much as they tapered down to his square jaw. His rounded soft lips were set in a grim line.

We can help you find out. He was holding out the cloth. She took it from him, pulling it across her shoulders to wrap around her chest. Even as she did so, a starkness in his eyes drew her in, arresting her in his gaze. She wasn’t sure whether it was the sympathy she saw there or something else.

Why won’t you answer my questions? she asked his fathomless eyes.

You’re about to go into shock, he whispered, and we’re running out of time if you don’t want us to get caught and have them throw you back inside that thing.

She flinched, jerking to her feet, horror at what might yet befall her urging her on. But the shaking that had crept up was worse now, and her bare feet slipped in the slime. Leith rose in a fluid movement, his hand shooting out to catch her wrist. She tensed to defend herself, but she couldn’t draw the energy to even stand. In one sweeping movement Leith brought an arm under her crumpling knees.

Kabe, Leith called, and she turned her head to see a gurney.

It hovered beside Kabe. She frowned, besieged by uncertainty.

Just try to relax, Kabe said, voice hoarse from where she’d grabbed him. There was a half-smile on his face, easy and assuring. Do you hurt anywhere?

I think I’m seeing things, she whispered, not about to lie to a medic, as bile tried to crawl up her throat. How long was I in there?

We’re not sure, Leith answered. Kabe’s got the data, but we don’t have time to analyze it.

Kabe ducked his head. He was a lousy liar. Leith wasn’t telling her everything.

Can you get all those files? she asked Kabe.

He held up his arm. Downloaded already.

A silver streak of metal studded with lights was embedded in his skin, and a holographic display popped up from between them. Her eyes widened as they darted between his arm and the hologram.

Technology that was only theoretical.

Her memory was a slippery eel, flashing its fins deep within the waters of her mind, but little was coming to the fore. She remembered how to speak, to ask questions, to trust her trained instincts, but nothing else.

She tried to sit up, but Leith was there, placing a hand on her shoulder.

You want out, then you do as you’re told, or you stay here. He waited until she lay down on the gurney. Kabe adjusted the cloth to cover her as she shivered in the room’s chill.

Let’s go, Leith called the group. We’ve got less than ten minutes before the reinforcements arrive, so get moving if you want your cut!

What about Harper? A man called, standing over the dead thug.

Leave him, Leith said. It’s what happens when you move without my orders.

As if goaded by Leith’s threat, the men hurried to finish loading the trolleys floating around the room just like the gurney was. Much wider, their fat loads weighed them down to a foot off the ground. Her neck arched as she scanned what they were stealing, seeing so many of the heavy boxes waiting to be ferried out.

If you don’t want to get shot then stay down, Leith said, coming up beside the gurney. True to his word, as the bay doors opened, there were sounds of sizzling fire ahead. On the tail end of the convoy trying to escape, she glanced back one last time, burning the image into her mind.

The empty tank.

Dusty crates and machinery.

The metal doors covered with warnings, restricted access only. For a moment she couldn’t make out what they said because the paint was faded and covered with dirt. The concrete cave they’d been in only opened onto more tunnels, round skylights letting in a dim daylight.

Wrapped with an overwhelming urge to torch the place, she tried to memorize every detail.

The noise of the guns was growing, echoing down the walls, hurting her ears.

Get her through, Leith said to Kabe, who nodded, flicking through the display on his holo-arm. The gurney sped up, passing behind the two, armored men and several others laying down suppressive fire on a distant enemy. She only had a brief glance between the guards to see the foe. Dressed in white, logo on their chests, she gathered their dates. Only a few of them would die in this firefight. As they returned the barrage, she saw a man on their side fall without any obvious injury.

The guards for the facility were shooting to stun.

To take them alive.

She hunkered down on the gurney, glad they were taking her away. She had to get out of here, figure out what happened, kill those responsible. Slowly.

They barreled down another corridor and she was grateful for the lift. Her legs started to spasm, and though she felt nothing, she was struggling to control her own body.

What’s happening to me? She lifted her head to Kabe. He glanced back over his shoulder, but Leith had fallen behind with the shooters.

You’re going into secondary stasis, he said, you’ve been asleep for a long time, so the next stage is critical. We need to get you to a MediKate and stabilize you. You shouldn’t even be awake. The latter was said with wonder and worry, neither of which reassured her.

Why did you get me out?

Kabe glanced at her then turned his attention ahead. The sound of an engine coming to life purred down the tunnel, blowing dust in the air. Ayla forced her head to slant enough to see where they were going. Ahead, the back of a craft with an open cargo bay waited for them. The tunnel only showed the gaping mouth of its gangway and a wedge of daylight, nothing about the landscape beyond. She wanted to know where they’d kept her, but it was more important to get away from here.

Kabe ran up the ramp, gurney hovering by his side.

She tried to look around, see something that would tell her where she was, when it was, but there were only more of the boxes with the Aquacore symbol. She fell back, washed in a wave of weakness. Her focus was failing, limbs jerking. Everything ran through syrup, all her instincts to fight melting to nothingness.

Did we get it all? Kabe asked.

A man nodded. Loaded and secure. Team’s retreating now.

Brilliant, Kabe said, dumping his medical bag and drawing her gurney to a docking port inside the craft. With a few more taps on the holo-arm, it locked itself in. Her head tilted to ask Kabe another question, but the guy counting crates had stopped to stare at her. It wasn’t a friendly look. He was the same one who’d been standing over Harper, the man she’d killed. The longer the moment stretched, the more she was sure it had nothing to do with her nudity and everything to do with her killing his teammate. He took a step toward her when she didn’t look away.

Leith entered the rear of the jet, and