The Six: Genesis | A Reverse Harem Novel

Eighteen

You wouldn't guess she's the Commander of an elite unit sub-contracted by the military to capture or kill the worst of the worst. She's young for her post but strong, decisive, and excellent in a crisis. Her team respects the hell out of her, and they wouldn't hesitate to put their lives on the line to ensure she lived.

She'd do the same. Truthfully, I'm saddened she isn't on my personal protection unit instead of Catrina. Darcy would never expect or ask me to do the things Catrina requests.

No one should ask the things she does.

Over my shoulder, I watch as Gatlin hits the ground. His transition from air to ground is seamless and silent. No matter what I throw at the man, he easily conquers it.

Shaking away those thoughts, I focus on her as she releases me. We're about the same height and the same build, but her movements are fluid and confident. I'm confident, but not like her and I don't have the same strengths.

"New accessories?"

For a moment, I'd forgotten Charlie and Gatlin were even there. Slowly, I turn and motion them forward. Gatlin hangs back a bit, studying my reaction to Darcy. I already know what he's thinking. I shake my head at him—we're platonic and always would be.

"Darce," I point to Charlie first, "this is Charlie, and that's Gatlin."

She frowns at Gatlin. "That's an interesting first name."

His eyes roll. "Call me Chris. Blue is the only one who calls me Gatlin."

"Oh," Darcy raises an eyebrow at me surreptitiously. "It's a pleasure to meet you both." She turns back to me and mouths, 'they're hot.'

Yes. They're gorgeous, but the last thing they need is me pumping up their ridiculously high ego. Especially Charlie's. I just met him and I already know he thinks he's hot shit. So does Gatlin, but he's more graceful about it—more guarded. I'm not sure his attractiveness has always been a positive in life.

"Likewise." Charlie says.

She turns back to me. "What's with the entrance?"

"Ah, we call them MAG suits." I said, brushing my clothes off. "What? Don't like the name? What do you have in mind?"

Scoffing, Darcy motions toward Gatlin whose suit is slowly pealing back across his skin. The nanites trill and light up with a wonderful menagerie of gold, white and blue. They recede quickly, climbing his arms, legs, and shoulders to find their home in the necklace affixed to his neck.

"Why don't you paint them yellow and call them the iron minions?"

"If you'd let my team try them out, they'd be closer to full release."

"No," I shake my head. "If anything happens and your team members died, I'd never forgive myself."

"Parachutes exist, you know."

"The speed and height we attain... it's not wise."

Charlie's voice calls us to a halt. "You had us travel over 600 miles using prototypes?! Are you kidding me?"

"You're fine. You were perfectly safe, Charlie."

"And it we weren't?"

Waving Darcy forward, we continue across the parking lot and toward the massive airplane hangar. "I did tell you before we left, the ground would happily catch you in 35,000 feet."

He doesn't speak again for a long time. In silence, he and Gatlin follow Darcy and me until we're under the safety of the metal hanger. A few people loiter around a small aircraft, but a pair of twins—a full three heads taller than anyone else—come outside with another friend I hadn't seen in a long time.

"Blue! Shit! They said you'd be here! I thought Darcy was bullshitting me," she screams, launching herself around the twins and into my outstretched arms. "Did you bulk up or something? I don't remember you being this... solid."

Narrowing my eyes at her as she pulls away, I ask, "are you calling me fat?"

"Really, bitch? Fat?"

"You're the one who said it!"

"Last time I jumped on you, you dropped both of us!"

"It's not my fault you're a flaming hippopotamus!"

Charlie snorts, coming around to my left side to introduce himself. "I'm Charlie and he's Chris. Who are you?"

A smile covers her face as she regards him. The twins, never happy to see another man so close to the love of their life, saunter closer. Their shadows paint overs, easily dwarfing us, but Charlie—bless him—doesn't move an inch and doesn't back down. He's not intimidated, and neither is Gatlin.

Good. They'll need all the confidence they can get for when they meet her other seven boyfriends... or are they husbands? I haven't seen her in so long my chest aches.

I've missed my friends. Isolation for no good reason beyond a looming threat is boring and emotionally debilitating. I wish for the old days when Ryker was still cautious, but let me explore more.

Since the first attack, he's been more on edge than before. And his disappearing acts—which were always frequent—are ratcheting up higher and higher while the days fly by. If he's not careful, I'll be older than he remembers and no longer the person I once was.

"Everybody calls me Zhyv."

Charlie nods and over pronounces her name. "Zhyv... what?"

Spelled with four letters rather than three, Zhyv's name struck a chord with me. The first time I spelled it 'Zev', like it's pronounced, she'd been giddier than a schoolgirl. Apparently, that's the closest anyone had ever come to getting it right. Though, her accent wraps the letters oddly.

Zhyv shakes her head. "Just Zhyv."

Doctor Zhyvenshya Wrath is like me—a child prodigy. But the haunting glow in her eyes is nothing like mine. Each day she lives in a hard won battle.

I build weapons of war. She builds the weapons of the future. And Darcy... Darcy's built to herald us into whatever evolution brings.

Taller than both Darcy and me, she's perfectly situated where she stands. Like Darcy, she'd rather be in cargo pants, t-shirts and black boots. Hers make a heavy thud and clink when she walks as if they're hiding secrets. I've been eyeing them forever, hoping she'll tell me what they are and offer me a pair—or two.

Black and platinum blonde locks drape down to her mid-back. Her high cheekbones, dimples, a full mouth and a flat nose enhance her heart shaped face. Almond shaped eyes stare at me. Today, they're green with specks of blue and white. Vaguely, I wonder what they'll look like tomorrow. Her skin is an even shade of warm milk chocolate, unblemished, and it glows even in the dark.

It's easy to see why she had nine boyfriends.

"What are we doing here, Darcy?" Zhyv asks, leading us through the pair of huge metal doors and into a posh space. We halt at the center, above a massive granite mandala carved into the floor. With a hiss, the mandala unlocks to expose the interworkings of an underground building.

We ride the mandala-turned elevator downward. Darkness creeps upon us but is kept at bay by lights flickering on the further we descend.

"Yeah, I second the question. Why are we here, Darce?"

She smiles, but its forced. "No questions, yet."

Zhyv frowns. "Why not?"

Darcy shrugs. "Because I'd rather you see it first."

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" I ask.

"No," Darcy grits, "no, you won't at all."