Bree has recovered from surgery, but we’re still scheduling these ahead as we work on a secret project! Mwahahahaha! This serial was originally posted (mostly!) on Patreon, and has been edited and finished to be posted live on our blog over the next few weeks. But for those who just want it NOW, or who hate reading on a blog and would like an epub… Well here is the epub!
Return to the world after the Beyond Series and meet the residents of Sector Three…
When Ashwin asks Six & Bren to take in an emotionally fractured Makhai soldier, there are a thousand things that could go wrong. But they are hard at work building their school and rebuilding their sector, and Sebastian is a genius who can fix anything. Anything. In return for his help, all they have to do is give him a safe place to find out if his emotional wounds can be healed.
Just one traumatized supersoldier in the middle of a school filled with former feral street kids, war refugees from exclusive brothels, and a few dozen kids who barely know what a school is.
What could go wrong?
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DISCLAIMERS: this is a serial meant for existing readers of the series. it contains full series spoilers for the Beyond Series and may not make sense if you haven’t read it.
It is also NOT erotic. This is the first part of a very very very slow burn romance between a broken Makhai soldier and an artist who escaped Sector Two after the bombings. There may also be a few other romances a brewing… consider this more like a TV show with multiple members of the cast up to hijinks, even if there are two main characters.
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Blue whistled as she moved through the barn after her last morning class, gathering gardening trowels and hand cultivators as she went. The kids were always eager to play in the dirt, but by the end of class, their rumbling bellies were more focused on lunch than picking up.
No matter. She had some things to do before she headed to the kitchens anyway. Zayan was back in the sector for a while, which meant he’d be running his customary Friday night poker game, and she planned on claiming a seat at the table.
It was the only way she’d ever win her money back from Zeke James, Sector One Rider and certified poker hustler.
Blue dumped the tools in the bin by the door and made her way into the greenhouse. Here, the dry, dusty smell of dirt gave way to the scents of life–the sharp tang of greenery and the humid earthiness of loamy soil. She breathed deeply, drawing it in as she moved down the rows to her destination.
The tomato plants were doing well, with strong vines and robust production. She counted down the row until she found what she was looking for–the third plant from the end.
She’d found the recipe in a pre-Flare cookbook of sorts, in something called a magazine, according to Bren. Its pages had once been shiny, but age and wear had rendered them brittle. Not so brittle, however, that she couldn’t make out the recipe for the mouthwatering sandwich on the page.
It was called a BLT. Blue had already picked her lettuce, and Sally was saving her some bacon from Hawk’s last trip. All she needed now was one perfect tomato, and she’d had her eye on this one for a solid week.
She knelt beside the plant and stopped short.
It was gone. The gorgeous tomato she’d left ripening on the vine for days was just…not there. She examined the stem left behind. The tomato had definitely not overripened and fallen off, which meant someone had picked it.
Blue supposed it could have been one of the students, or maybe even Sally. Except…it had been hidden within the dense foliage of the plant, not visible at a glance. There were much easier tomatoes to be found.
Odd.
Oh well. She picked the next best tomato and carried on, resuming her whistling as she ran it under water at the greenhouse’s ancient, rattling sink. Then she scrubbed her hands, carefully removing as much grime as she could.
The shed just outside the greenhouse housed their medicinal plant and herb preparations. Since proper medicines from Sector Five were readily available, these herbal alternatives weren’t typically used, but Blue felt better having them in case of emergencies, and Six had agreed. Besides, some of the staff preferred them–like Sally, who had asked for a feverfew tincture because her arthritis was acting up.
Because of the potential danger to younger students, they kept the shed secured with a padlock. Blue opened it, then blinked at the shelves. Her carefully stocked medicines had been rifled through, and some were missing. Half the plantain poultices were gone, as well as bottles of feverfew and willow bark tincture.
Bandages and pain relievers. Blue frowned. As far as she was aware, no one had been injured. And she knew that she had the only key to the shed. Lifting the padlock, she examined the keyhole closely and finally spotted them–tiny, telltale scratches in the metal.
Someone had picked the lock.
Blue peered into the shed once again and spotted a rust-colored smudge on the edge of the shelf. Dried blood.
She bit her lower lip. She should probably replace the lock with something tougher, or temporarily relocate the supplies. But if someone had been bleeding and desperate enough to break into the shed and take medical supplies, then someone needed help.
The idea made her throat hurt.
She hurried toward the main building of the school–not to the kitchen, but to the teachers’ lounge, where they stored the emergency medical supplies.
Leah was there, sitting at a table with a steaming cup of tea. She glanced up when Blue rushed in, greeting her with a hum and an arched eyebrow.
“Hi. I just need some things,” Blue told her as she used another key to unlock this cabinet. “For the barn.”
Leah hummed again, her politely bland expression making it clear she didn’t give a damn what Blue was doing.
Just as well. The blonde made Blue nervous. She almost dropped the stack of bandages, as well as the tube of med-gel she’d taken. She rebalanced the stolen–borrowed–items and, after a moment, added a small bottle of a topical painkiller.
Blue hurried back to the door. “Anyway,” she called over her shoulder. “Bye!”
Her heart rate didn’t begin to settle until she’d placed the items on the shelf in the shed, carefully arranging them so that whoever came looking was certain to see them. If they came back at all. Every street kid learned fast that hitting the same place twice was just asking for trouble, but Blue could hope.
And she did, because whoever had broken into the shed needed help, and she knew what that was like–the fear, the loneliness. Running through every angle and coming up with no good options. It was a scary way to live, one she wouldn’t wish on anyone.
Come back, she pleaded silently. So I can know you’re okay.
And maybe, just maybe, convince them to stay.