Futureblood Society: A Futuristic Urban Fantasy Series (Episodes 6-10): Futureblood Society, #2

By A.W. Cross

I, Ever Liddell, am a mutant—and I'm not the only one.

 

The Futureblood Society is on its first case—but it could be our last when someone discovers what we're up to.

 

And if that's not bad enough, Hale's past—with flaming red hair and a serious attitude problem—comes back to haunt him.

 

Saving his life will take all the Society's powers. Too bad mine is out of control…

 

For those who like fun, fast-paced futuristic urban fantasy and twisted fairy tales—because even mutants deserve a happily ever after!

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.W. Cross
• Release date: Jan 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9781989884133

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Futureblood Society: Episode 6-10

Copyright © 2020 by Glory Box Press

Published by Glory Box Press

British Columbia, Canada.

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All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. For information regarding permission, write to Glory Box Press at [e-mail]

First edition, 2021

ISBN 978-1-989884-13-3

Cover design, interior design, and formatting by Glory Box Press

Editing by Glory Box Press and Lynne Fitzgerald

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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I fear nothing when I am doing right.

- Andrew Lang, Jack and the Beanstalk

beanstalkEpisode6

Sometimes my dreams felt more real to me than my own life, and even more confusing.

What do you think you’re doing?

Saving you.

A warm body, identity unknown. Skin on skin and I’m too much, too overwhelming.

An arched back, a tear.

A hope too fierce to breathe life into.

A knock on the door to end it all.

I clamped my pillow down around my ears. If I ignored whoever it was, maybe they would leave me alone. I’d been asleep for nearly twelve hours, but I was still tired.

They kept knocking.

Go away, I shouted, my voice muffled by the pillow.

The knock became heavier, impatient.

Familiar.

I could practically see his scowl on the other side of the door. Hale, I’m exhausted. Come back later. I pulled the covers up over my head. As far as I was concerned, if I couldn’t hear him, he didn’t exist.

I’d been avoiding him and the others for the last couple of days, sneaking out of my room only when they were in the training room or out in the grounds. Despite the initial hope I’d had at Hale’s belief in my ability, I just couldn’t get out of the funk I was in. Was leaving me to wallow in my misery too much to ask?

Ever, we need to talk.

That was even worse. Did he mean talk? Or talk?

Go. A. Way, Hale.

He didn’t. He opened the door and let himself right in. Did the man not know what a closed door meant? I’d have to buy the biggest lock I could find.

He sat down on the end of my bed. Ever—

What the hell are you doing? I pulled myself against the headboard, still cocooned in my quilt with only my head sticking out. It was obvious I wasn’t in the mood to talk.

Hale didn’t take the hint. He just stared at me.

What? My irritation couldn’t be any more obvious.

Are you all right?

No, I wasn’t. I hurt, I was tired, and as emotionally fragile as a vintage teacup. I’m fine. Why?

I need to talk to you about something.

My stomach clenched. Things had been weird between us since that night in Neve’s room. All right. I held my breath.

A young man claiming to be a mutant has contacted Lissa. He has some kind of proposal for the Society—well, the academy, as far as he knows. He coming to meet with us today.

I deflated. Idiot. Of course it was about the Society. So? What does that have to do with me?

He frowned. I thought—We’re a team, aren’t we?

"You mean, you and me? Like partners?" My foul mood lifted just a little.

Okay, more than a little. Did this mean he still believed in me, despite my behavior the last few days?

No, I—

Nah. I flopped back down "Not interested. Go ask another member of the team." I was fully aware how obnoxious I was acting, but I didn’t care.

For a moment Hale didn’t speak, but then he gave an irritated grunt. "Fine. We’re partners."

See, was that so hard?

"Good. Now get out of my room, partner."

He stood. Are you coming or not?

I am. I would like to get dressed first, if that’s okay with you?

He hesitated.

Do you want to watch, or something? Was it my imagination, or did his face color just a little? He retreated to the door with his long strides, the prude. Oh well, his loss.

Don’t take too long, he called over his shoulder.

Shut the d— But he had gone. I grumbled under my breath as I popped open my capsule. I still had put nothing away and had just slept in my underwear.

Ten minutes, fresh undies, and a hairbrush later and I was ready. All I had to do was find my way to the common room. Easy, right?

Not really, but at least it took me only ten minutes this time.

I was getting the hang of this.

Hale didn’t share my sense of victory. Did you get lost again? He was standing over by the elevator, tapping his foot impatiently.

I mustered what dignity I could. Of course not.

He shook his head, exasperated. Let’s go.

In the elevator on the way to the surface, Hale seemed more agitated than usual. Was this more than a simple met and greet?

"Are you okay, Hale?"

He frowned. Yes. Why?

I don’t know. You just seem a bit—

The door opened, and Hale nudged past me and kept walking, leaving me to trot after him per usual.

Where are we going? I hadn’t been off the island since we’d gotten here.

The academy.

Oh. Still, at least it was somewhere other than my room. And besides, I hadn’t seen inside the academy yet. So what’s this guy’s proposal? He was the first mutant to respond to the academy’s appeal for students.

Hale didn’t look back or slow down. You’ll find out soon enough.

Typical.

The stone pillars flanking the academy stairs loomed out of the fog so abruptly, I almost smacked face-first into one. At the top of the stairs were a pair of large, dark mahogany doors adorned with the decapitated heads of two pissed off-looking demons. Large brass rings were clenched resentfully between their teeth.

Um, Hale? What kind of cult were they?

Hale glanced at the doorknockers and shrugged. I’m not sure. I think they worshipped some kind of old immortal demon. Lissa knows more about it than I do. The academy was for their acolytes.

Immortal demons? Hadn’t anyone told them demons didn’t exist?

The doors opened into a long, glossy-floored foyer lined on either side by more stairs. The color scheme and décor were stereotypical demon-cult chic, all reds and blacks, and deeply stained wood.

Wow. They really committed to the whole aesthetic, didn’t they?

The muscle in Hale’s jaw twitched. He probably wished he’d just let me sleep.

He led me down the central foyer to a large office at the back. It must have formerly been the principal’s office…or maybe the head demon’s. Who knew?

Inside, Lissa sat behind a wide, heavy oak desk covered with official-looking papers and the typical interface. She’d dressed for the part, her red hair pulled up into a severe bun, and a pair of heavy spectacles perched primly on her nose.

Huh. Did she even wear glasses? Either way, the illusion was complete. She gestured for us to take the two empty seats on her side of the desk.

Seated in the chair opposite her was a young man, maybe a couple of years older than me, with the brightest red hair I’d ever seen—even redder than Lissa’s. Freckles only a few shades lighter dusted his ruddy cheeks, and his smile was shy and genuine, matching the friendliness in his bluer-than-blue eyes.

As soon as we sat, Lissa introduced us.

Miss Liddell, this is Jackson Smoll. Jackson, Miss Liddell. You’ve already met Mr. Spence. We nodded at each other as Lissa continued. Jackson, please repeat what you’ve already told us to Ms. Liddell.

The young man pressed his lips together into a thin line. I, uh, as I was telling Miss Rivan and Mr—

Hale. Please, just call me Hale.

Wow, Hale was really laying the charm on thick. What was going on here?

Mr. Hale, Jackson corrected himself. I’m a mutant, Miss Liddell. I saw the governor’s announcements, and I thought I should come and speak with you.

So you want to join the Academy? That was great, but why did they need me here?

He scratched at the table with his thumbnail. I—Yes, but I have a …condition.

A condition? Did he mean like a medical one? Is that why Hale brought me? Because I was the resident invalid?

Nope, just me being paranoid.

I need your help with something. After that, if you’ll have me, I think I’d like to join.

Hale leaned forward, his elbows on the table. Well, before you let us know what your ‘condition’ is, perhaps you should show us what you can do.

Jackson nodded, his head bouncing like a puppet on a string. I thought you might say that. He reached into a bag by his feet, then placed a small pot with a tiny seedling in it on the desk. Here goes nothing.

He gave us a nervous grin and cupped his hand over the delicate sprout as we waited. After only a few seconds, green shoots thrust up between his fingers, spreading into wide, tender-looking leaves. A small red bud formed on the tallest stalk, then burst into bloom. The whole thing had taken less than a minute.

Damn.

I wasn’t the only one impressed. Tell us what you need, Hale asked.

Jackson released a long, shaky breath. Three years ago, my father disappeared. I want you to find him.

That sounded way above our pay grade to me, but neither Hale nor Lissa protested.

My father is Jack Smoll. He’s also part owner of Skystalk.

Skystalk? Where have I heard that before? Lissa asked. The name was familiar to me too.

They designed and run the Portfade Central Arcology, Jackson replied.

Even I knew what that was. The PCA was created after the Goldhare Horizon disaster had destroyed most of Foxwept’s agricultural land. The concept was simple enough—a habitat that could self-sustain a large population with a minimal impact on the ecosystem. The original plan had been a fully self-contained society where people could live, grow food, produce energy…and survive the mutant Wildwood pushing Portfade into the sea.

But after the military contained the Wood, Skystalk instead turned the arcology into a massive agricultural complex and plant archive instead. There were several arcologies scattered around the province, but the PCA was undoubtedly the largest.

Hale leaned back in his chair. Tell us what happened.

Like I said before, three years ago, my father left one morning to go to work and never arrived.

And you’ve heard nothing since?

Nothing.

Hale frowned. It’s difficult to disappear in Portfade. Was your father not caught on any of the sensors? Only the central downtown of the city was dotted with official data-sensors, but nearly every district had some kind of security system.

Yes—a mile away from the arcology. The cameras around the PCA itself malfunctioned, and no one noticed for a day or two either side of his disappearance.

Hm. Only a single syllable from Hale, and I could practically read his mind.

That seems awfully convenient, doesn’t it? I asked.

Jackson nodded. That’s what I thought, but nobody took me seriously.

Did anything unusual happen around the time of your father’s disappearance? Hale asked. He sounded very official, like he’d done this before.

Jackson looked away. He’d been unhappy for a while, although neither he nor my mother would tell me what it was about. His partner, Victor Titan, noticed it too, and even thought…well, it doesn’t matter.

It might. What did he think?

That maybe my father hurt himself. It came out in a rush. Or, since we never found a trace, that he took off and left everything behind to start a new life.

But you don’t believe that?

No. Jackson’s voice broke. "I don’t believe that. He would never leave us, or his work, not by choice. He’s my father, and maybe I don’t know everything about him, but I know him well enough to know that."

Hale frowned. Did you tell the investigators?

I did…but they just looked at me…all pitying-like. I— Jackson stared down at his hands. They were thick with calluses and darkened with grime that looked like it would never wash off. He saw me looking and moved them self-consciously under the table. I’m not the smartest person in the world, but— and an honest pride crept into his voice, I’m great at what I do. I’m just not so good with people, and that seemed to matter. Anything I told them, they sort of…well, if I hadn’t been so tall, they’d probably have patted me on the head.

So the last time anyone saw your father, he was on his way to the arcology? But no one saw him arrive? Hale clearly had a few possibilities in mind.

Jackson shook his head. No. I expected to see him later that day. I work there too, you see. He grinned. Which makes my mutation pretty useful.

Do they know what you are? If they did, Jackson was a poster-boy for mutants, proof we had our place in regular society, just like everyone else.

No. I—I never told anyone.

Even your parents? I asked.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. No.

Why not? Though I had to admit, if it hadn’t been for Hale, I wouldn’t have told my parents either.

Jackson glanced down at his hands again. Because. My entire life, I’ve never been good at anything. When I became a mutant…I liked that everyone just thought it was natural skill.

Technically it is, I pointed out.

He put his hands back on the table, his self-consciousness forgotten. I guess you’re right. I feel guilty about it sometimes, but when you put is that way… He smiled. Thanks.

But Hale was all business. Would you normally see your father at work?

Jackson’s smile fell. Yes. We always have lunch together. Sometimes we leave together in the morning, but that day, he had to go in early.

Do you know why?

Jackson shrugged. No. But it wasn’t unusual. Things sometimes went wrong in the arcology overnight, and he’d need to fix them before anyone else arrived.

"Besides being co-founder, what