Cross (The Formicary Book 2), page 1
Cross
The Formicary, Book 2
S.E. Harmon
Copyright © 2021 by S.E. Harmon.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cross © 2021 by S.E. Harmon. Cover Art © 2021 by S.E. Harmon. Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.
All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including but not limited to being stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the author.
For my mother
Contents
Foreword
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
Afterword
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by S.E. Harmon
Foreword
This book is not a standalone, so you might want to start with Chrysalis, book 1.
In writing this story, escapism, romance, and adventure were my priorities. I took liberties with what is and is not possible to tell the story I wanted to tell. So! Bring on the sci-fi, implausible situations, and occasional plot hole. If anything I've mentioned is problematic for you as a reader, I'd give this one a pass.
At the end of the day, I wanted to write a story that was a little off the beaten path. But this is still just a love story…plus assassins and super soldiers. You know, the usual. It’s a story about a guy trying to hang on to the love of his life. No matter what it takes.
I had fun with these guys, and I hope you do, too.
Happy reading,
SEH
“When we are tired, we are attacked by ideas we conquered long ago.”
-Friedrich Nietzsche
Prologue
The past
There was never a good reason to be called into Petar Dobroslav’s office.
I’d learned that time and again, and I had a feeling that this day wouldn’t buck that trend. I stood quietly as he flipped a silver, monogrammed case open and pulled out a cigar. He claimed smoking was his only vice, which was, quite frankly, laughable. By my estimation, enjoying a Cuban occasionally was the least of his offenses.
He cut the end, stuck the cigar in his mouth, and pulled out a solid silver lighter from his desk drawer. I watched as he expertly burned the end of the cigar, rolling it in the flame slowly. The ember burned bright as he took his first leisurely puff. And finally, finally, he was ready to acknowledge my presence…visually, that was.
The Formicary was only a five-story building, but the ride up the elevator had seemed so much longer. That was mainly because I’d known that this cold, merciless stare was up here waiting for me. He’d given me an order to stand down, and I’d done the exact opposite. In his world, that was a very big deal.
I’d like to say it was exclusively pride that kept me standing in place. But pride could only account for about ten percent of me not turning tail and scampering out of the building. The other ninety percent was in the form of Dobroslav’s bodyguard and head of his goon squad, Chaos. He stood behind me, arms folded across his massive chest. I wasn’t sure that guy was entirely human.
I shook my head at my fanciful thinking, which made me wince. It probably wasn’t the best idea to aggravate my head injury. During my attack on Vargas’s compound, some guard had caught me unaware, and I’d paid the price. He’d blindsided me with a fist to the head, which was not cool. Of course, I’d killed him after that surprise attack, but still. Not cool.
His handiwork blended in with the rest of my injuries. My hair was matted with blood above my right ear. I had a cut from razor wire on my shoulder. I’d also injured my leg since I’d underestimated the height of Vargas’s gate…well, not so much the height of the gate as the distance of the drop after I scaled it. The adrenaline of my failed mission was starting to wear off, and I just wanted to go home and lick my wounds. And by “lick my wounds,” I meant drink booze. Obviously.
“Look, let’s just get on with this,” I said impatiently. “If you were going to have me killed, you should’ve let your goon here do it downstairs. That way I wouldn’t drip blood all over your pretty carpet.”
Chaos kicked the back of my knee, and I staggered. When I was sure I wouldn’t fall, I whipped around to face him, fists balled at my sides. He wasn’t even remotely impressed. “I wouldn’t do that, kid.”
Kid? I puffed up further. “I’m seventeen,” I snapped.
“If you want to make eighteen, you’ll shut your smart mouth,” he advised. “Or I’ll shut it for you. You show respect when you talk to the boss, grandfather or not.”
It was easy to forget that this cold man was my grandfather. It was simpler to just think of him as Dobroslav. I turned my ire on him because it had to go somewhere. That bastard Vargas was still breathing, and I was unable to do anything about that until my injuries healed. And God knew how long that would take. I also had to come up with a new plan, one that would account for the new security measures that Vargas was probably adding as we spoke.
“Leave him be.” Dobroslav looked mildly amused. “He’s Katerina’s son, after all. Why should I be surprised that he’s got a temper?”
“Don’t talk about my mother,” I said heatedly.
“I lost Katya, too. You don’t get exclusive rights to grief for her.”
“Then why are you just sitting on your ass doing nothing about her death? Why don’t you care about avenging her?” I felt something trickling down my face, and I froze. Please don’t be tears. How horrifyingly embarrassing would that be? I swiped at the liquid and realized it was just blood from my head wound. Thank God.
Wait. That probably wasn’t good, either.
“Taz Vargas is still alive,” I said lowly. “That bastard had my mother killed, and he’s still out there living and breathing and enjoying his life.”
“Katya knew the rules. She knew what would happen if she failed.”
Technically, she hadn’t failed. But before Vargas died, he’d had just enough breath left to tell his son who killed him. Now it was my job to make sure Vargas Junior joined his father.
“What about my family? My father? My sisters?” I demanded. “Did they know the fucking rules, too?”
“This. This.” He pointed at me with his cigar. “This is why you fail.”
“Because I give a good goddamn?”
“Because you’re ruled by emotion, Christian. Always have been. You’re too much like your father and not enough like your mother. Katya might’ve made some bad decisions in the end, but she would’ve never botched a job like this.” He shook his head. “That’s why I turned you away in the first place. I knew you didn’t have what it took.”
His words stung more than they should have. Why should I care what a man like Dobroslav thought about me? Maybe I was too emotional. I’d been driven by the thought of revenge since I’d found out that Taz Vargas called for a blackout of my entire family. When I should’ve been a kid doing kid things, I’d been driven by the blackest emotion possible. Revenge. And now that I’d taken my shot, I failed. So yeah, I was a little emotional about that shit. Sue me.
“So why am I here?” I suddenly felt extremely tired. “Why did you assign Mr. Roboto here as my watchdog and invisible shadow?”
Chaos chuckled behind me even as Dobroslav put his cigar in a crystal ashtray that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. He folded his elegant hands. “Because I made a promise when my Katya died that I would make sure you didn’t go down our road. That you would be normal and do normal things. I did not want death and violence to be the force that drove your life.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not what I wanted.”
“That’s what Katya would’ve wanted. And now look at you. Angry. Embittered. So injured you can barely stand on your own two feet.” For the first time, I saw genuine emotion on Dobroslav’s face as color suffused in his cheeks. “I didn’t bring you here to punish you, foolish boy. You’ve done that enough. I brought you here to ask you to change your ways. Let this go.”
I set my jaw. Not a chance in hell.
He read my defiant answer on my face. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“That’s my decision. And it’s my life.”
Or lack thereof. Planning to singlehandedly take down an outfit like Vargas’s didn’t leave much time for a social life, and that was just the way I preferred it. I couldn’t be effective if I was worried about who I would leave behind. No, this way, the only one who would care about my death was an estranged grandfather who saw me as a liability.
I would go back to training. I needed to go back to the shooting range for more practice and more training down at the dojo. I’d heal and get myself back in fighting condition. Then I’d see what new measures Vargas put in place and figure out a plan. My aching leg made me wince, and I amended that a tad—-a better plan.
In the end, support came from an unlikely source. “You might as well help him,” Chaos said, his tone the epitome of boredom. “Otherwise, he’s not going to survive his next attempt.”
“I don’t need your fucking help,” I snapped.
I immediately wanted to kick myself. Why would I turn on the only person in the room who was on my side? I was acting like a dog who’d been abused one too many times and saw everyone as a foe. Maybe Dobroslav was right. I was too emotional.
“Oh no?” Chaos raised a mocking brow. “You triggered a hidden alarm as you were breaking into the compound. I had to kill three of Vargas’s guards that you didn’t see. Not to mention the sniper I took out. He had you in his crosshairs the entire time and radioed in your position to Vargas.”
“Why didn’t they stop me?”
“Vargas was watching you on his security cameras the entire time. If I had to guess, he probably wanted you to find all the weak spots in his compound. Then they could shore them up after they put a bullet in your skull.” He shrugged. “He may not be quite the kingpin his father was, but he’s not a complete idiot.”
Like you. Everyone in the room could hear the rest of that sentence. I could feel my cheeks getting red. I was well aware that a thank you was in order. I gave gratitude in the form of the cold shoulder instead. It was a fledgling branch of Hallmark I was trying to get off the ground—when you know you owe someone a thank you and maybe an apology, but you’d rather die than say it. My company motto would be, Turns out this is the hill I want to die on.
Dobroslav sighed. “I will help you, if for no other reason than I don’t want you to end up like your mother.”
Even after the way I screwed up so spectacularly? I couldn’t believe my ears. I was this close to getting everything I ever wanted. I thought I could take down Vargas on my own, but I needed Dobroslav’s resources. And clearly, I needed more training than my money could provide.
I was almost afraid to ask, but I had to be sure. “You’ll let me join the Formicary?”
He nodded his head affirmatively. “But you have to go to school. You will get an education and finish college.”
I knew it was too good to be true. I bit my tongue to hold in words better left unsaid and went with the generic, “Why?”
He stood and rounded his desk, and I resisted the urge to shrink back. But he only leaned against it, his thumbs hooked in his belt. “Because that’s what Katya would’ve wanted. And because you’re going to need an education when you take over this place.”
I frowned at him. Take over the Formicary? I was momentarily nonplussed at the hint of life beyond my revenge on Vargas. Honestly, I didn’t see myself getting out of Vargas’s compound when I finally killed him. That’s why I focused all my plans on a way in, not a way out. Thinking about the future beyond that was...strange.
“I don’t want you out in the field forever. If you’re going to join us, you’re going to do it right.” He raked that cold gaze over me, head to toe. I wasn’t sure if he found anything to be proud of, or if he just saw me as a misshapen lump of clay that he needed to throw on a pottery wheel. “You’re a Dobroslav, Drone. And Dobroslavs strive for perfection.”
I was a Cross, actually. My father was Sean Cross, and I carried my surname with pride. But I wasn’t about to ruin things when I was this close to the finish line.
“Drone? Why do you call me that?” I frowned as I jerked a thumb toward Chaos. “Why does he get a codename and I’m a fucking drone?”
“Because you haven’t earned your codename yet.”
“When will I earn it?”
“When I say so,” he snapped. “Until then, you’ll be known as the nameless, faceless drone you are, who can impress me by not fucking anything up.”
I gritted my teeth. But when you made a deal with the devil, you didn’t go over all the clauses in the contract with a magnifying glass. A voice in your head just cried, sign, sign, sign. And you did.
“What will my codename be?” I asked when I could finally speak without cursing him out or telling him what he could do with his precious organization.
“Your mother named you Chrysalis because she saw you as her new beginning. And despite the idiocy of naming a child after a cocoon, I will honor that.” He pushed off the desk and came closer. I stood my ground, even when he put his hand on my shoulder none too gently. “But only when you’ve proven yourself.”
I was going to let that idiocy comment go. For now. I held in a cry as he squeezed my shoulder with the injury, and I knew it was purposeful. “I won’t let you down.”
“I hope you don’t. I’m not a man to be trifled with, Drone.” He looked at me almost fondly as he squeezed harder and finally got me to wince. Blood rose to the surface of the wound as it started to weep again. “If nothing else, you’d better learn that.”
I nodded shortly.
He enrolled me at Cresthaven University a week later. I’d missed the enrollment period for the prestigious school, but somehow, he’d made it happen. I didn’t ask any questions. I was starting to learn that Petar Dobroslav made a request and the world moved. My coursework was challenging; my schedule was brutal. When my guidance counselor—a lovely, rosy-cheeked woman named Pearl—objected, my grandfather just looked at her blankly. Christian will do what is required of him, he said briskly. And that was that.
After my first class, I walked across the scenic campus feeling completely out of place. The leaves were starting to turn and fall, which was some sort of beautiful. The weather was crisp but still nice enough to sit outside, which many students took advantage of. I passed lots of them sitting in the grass, talking, laughing, and studying with friends. Some guy in a backward cap leaped for a frisbee and wound up in the fountain as his friends laughed uproariously.
I curled my lip as I walked on.
I passed by the glass wall of the administration building and froze, confronted with my reflection. In ripped jeans, a graphic t-shirt, and some battered Converse, I could’ve been any normal college student. I also had on a hoodie and an army-green crossbody satchel, the latest model of iPhone in my back pocket. Dobroslav had given it to me, with the instruction to keep it on and charged, always.
“What if I’m in the bathroom?” I’d asked.
He’d given me the did I stutter expression that meant he was just about out of patience. I enjoyed being a smart aleck to him, but I knew how to toe the line. Unfortunately for me, he’d jumped into the grandfather role with both feet. I almost expected the old bastard to meet me on the weekend with a batch of homemade brownies…then slap me for daring to eat such a childish thing.
Just because I was starting to warm to him didn’t mean I’d forgotten he was a coldblooded killer. He didn’t want me to forget, either. I was the heir to his empire, but I had to watch my step. Follow the rules. His rules.
“A soft man like your father doesn’t inherit all this,” he’d informed me.
I’d wanted to punch him in the face for that. He stared at me impassively as I got my emotions under control. I was getting a lot better at that. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.
