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  The Enhanced: Conquest

  T. C. Edge

  This book is a work of fiction. Any names, places, events, and incidents that occur are entirely a result of the author's imagination and any resemblance to real people, events, and places is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright 2019 T. C. Edge

  All right reserved.

  First edition: February 2019

  Cover Design by Laercio Messias

  No part of this book may be scanned, reproduced, or distributed in any printed or electronic form.

  BY THE AUTHOR:

  THE ENHANCED SERIES (MAIN SERIES):

  The Enhanced (Book One)

  Hybrid (Book Two)

  Nameless (Book Three)

  Assassin (Book Four)

  Captive (Book Five)

  Renegade (Book Six)

  Invader (Book Seven)

  Avenger (Book Eight)

  Defender (Book Nine)

  Nemesis (Book Ten)

  Sequel (to main Enhanced series, and Warrior Race series):

  The Enhanced: Awakening

  The Enhanced: Conquest

  THE WARRIOR RACE SERIES (ENHANCED UNIVERSE):

  The Warrior Race (Book One)

  The Red Warrior (Book Two)

  Angel of War (Book Three)

  CHILDREN OF THE PRIME SERIES (ENHANCED UNIVERSE):

  The Chosen (Book One)

  Trial of the Chosen (Book 2)

  Blood of the Chosen (Book 3)

  March of the Chosen (Book 4)

  War of the Chosen (Book 5)

  Fall of the Chosen (Book 6)

  Rise of the Chosen (Book 7)

  OTHER BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR:

  THE WATCHERS SERIES:

  The Watchers Trilogy:

  The Watchers of Eden (Book One)

  City of Stone (Book Two)

  War at the Wall (Book Three)

  The Watchers Trilogy Box Set

  The Seekers Trilogy

  The Watcher Wars (Book One)

  The Seekers of Knight (Book Two)

  The Endless Knight

  The Seekers Trilogy Box Set

  THE PHANTOM CHRONICLES:

  The Last Phantom (Book 1)

  Phantom Hunter (Book 2)

  Phantom Legacy (Book 3)

  Phantom Unleashed (Book 4)

  Contents

  1. Brie

  2. Kira

  3. Brie

  4. Kira

  5. Brie

  6. Brie

  7. Kira

  8. Brie

  9. Brie

  10. Brie

  11. Kira

  12. Brie

  13. Kira

  14. Brie

  15. Kira

  16. Brie

  17. Brie

  18. Kira

  19. Brie

  20. Kira

  21. Brie

  22. Brie

  23. Kira

  24. Brie

  25. Brie

  26. Brie

  27. Brie

  28. Kira

  29. Brie

  30. Kira

  31. Brie

  32. Kira

  33. Brie

  Next Up…

  Also by T.C.Edge

  1

  Brie

  I sit at the edge of my bed, Adryan sleeping soundly behind me.

  The night is dark, cold, caught in its deepest ebb. I feel a slight chill run up my spine, one I can't quite explain, one that ever serves to wake me up at strange hours like this.

  Something...something concerns me, something that's been bothering me for some time.

  I reach towards the bedside table, quietly pulling it open. It creaks just a touch. I turn back quickly to look at Adryan. He stays asleep, breathing softly, his silver eyes hidden behind a calm, relaxed expression.

  I smile at that face, that face I love.

  The last few months between us have been so good, so happy. Months that have seen the city of Haven, now renamed New Haven, being rebuilt and redesigned, some things added here and there to offer additional protection should we ever need it.

  We will, I think, my thoughts on that subject always so dark. Oh, we will...

  I reach out, pulling the drawer completely open. Quietly, I remove a small stack of books from inside, books given to me by Emperor Domitian of Neorome, documenting the history of that fascinating place. A place, now, that I've even visited, months ago, when I went there with Kira to help solidify this new alliance we have struck up with their city.

  What a place. What a staggering, magical place.

  We were there, of course, on official business, myself and Lady Orlando, along with Commander Burns, and Adryan too. All, now, have slightly different titles, the political structure of the city taking on a new form, just as it's taken on a new name. As Haven has become New Haven, so Lady Orlando has cast off the old title of Director, in favour of President.

  The former, well, it has some negative connotations.

  Commander Burns, equally, has been promoted to Defence Secretary for the city, overseeing all our combined military and policing forces. Or, at least, what's left of them. While we have been engaging in conscription, our numbers of proper, experienced soldiers is worrying low.

  Gently, I place the books on the top of the bedside table. With another furtive glance back at Adryan, I reach in and begin feeling at the rear panelling with my fingers. I take a grip of a tiny handle on the wood, slide it a little across, revealing a hidden section at the back.

  I draw out a bundle of cloth hidden back there and place it onto my lap, unfolding it to reveal two small wooden figurines.

  I lift them up, peering through the dim light using my Hawk-eyes, taking in the fine detail. One is more intricately carved, a figure of me, dressed in robes, my arms outstretched, a wild grin upon my face. The other is less detailed, though carries the same posture and look, the figure of a man, his head bald, his forehead marked with stage symbols, cut into the wood.

  Just, I think, as they were cut into his flesh...

  My mind turns back many months, to that fateful experience, that dreadful, eye-opening adventure to the north.

  Herald Nestor.

  The Cult of Awakening.

  The strange powers he and his soldiers possessed.

  I stare at the figurine of the man himself, Nestor, a Herald of Awakening from a city far away. Still, even now, he haunts me. What Kira and I saw up there will never be forgotten. And every day since, I have thought about what happened. Every day, it has driven me to be stronger, wiser, harder.

  A cold feeling stirs inside me again. A feeling that has been growing by the day.

  They are coming, whispers a familiar voice. You must prepare. You must be ready...

  "What are you doing?"

  The croaking voice behind me has my heart missing a beat. I instinctively gather up the two figures, bundling them into the cloth, hiding them in my lap as I turn. There, Adryan looks up at me, frowning, those silver eyes glinting with the faint light shining in from the windows outside.

  "Did I...wake you?" I ask, my voice a little high pitched. Hiding something. He's smart enough to see it.

  "What's that in your lap?" he queries. He draws himself up from his lying position, moving to his elbow, displaying his firmly toned shape and form. Even now, in his new position of prominence as senior advisor to President Orlando, he still finds the time to exercise and keep in tremendous shape.

  I shuffle awkwardly, trying to drop the figures back into the drawer without him seeing. It's all a bit clunky and graceless. I never felt that Zander's elegance on the battlefield, his wondrous poise, was shared evenly with me. Twins, yes, but not entirely equal.

  "Nothing, nothing," I stammer, doing an awful job of covering my tracks. I manage to get
the bundle back into the drawer, push it shut with a clunk, and lie back down. I smile up at him alluringly. "So, um, busy day today? I hear the Oasis is nearly complete?"

  He stares at me blankly. No, this isn't his Savant detachment coming through. It's simply an expression to show he can see right through my games.

  "Brie, I know full well that you hide those figurines in the back of that drawer."

  My eyes widen. "You...what?"

  "I found it when I was cleaning." He shakes his head. "Why you think you need to hide it from me is...well, it's beyond me. I'm your husband, Brie. You can share these things with me. You know you can."

  My bright, diversionary expression falls away. I sit up again, deflated, shaking my head. "I guess I feel..." I go quiet again, the words not properly forming.

  "What? What is it, darling?"

  "I don't know. Like no one's taking this quite as seriously as I am. With Kira away, there's no one else who was there with us. I don't think we're doing enough."

  Adryan looks at me sympathetically. "We are. Of course we are," he says softly. "We've sent scouts out. We've rebuilt the defences bigger, better, stronger than ever. We have the Oasis. We've been conscripting new soldiers, and have Commander Ares's detachment here from Neorome. I...I don't know what more we can do, to be honest."

  "Well, when you say it like that," I mumble.

  "Look, we all know what you and Kira saw and went through was...horrific. But, the truth is, there's nothing to say we're under threat here. Our scouts have turned up nothing. There's no unrest, no news at all. And there are other, more immediate things for us to worry about."

  I know he's talking about the growing population and social issues we're seeing. Yes, we saw enormous losses in the civil conflict, and war with the Cure that immediately followed, but in the previous few months, things have begun to change.

  We are, finally, living up to the title of the city itself. A haven. A refuge. With word spreading of the fall of the Consortium, many have now begun to arrive at our doors, hoping to seek asylum from the dangers of the world beyond. It has, while enriching the city in many ways, caused a bit of strain. And, certainly, become the foremost issue the city is facing right now.

  I let out a breath, knowing that all of that isn't really my forte. No, like Zander, I am finding myself increasingly drawn to conflict. A part of me - that part of Zander, perhaps, that continues to whisper in the shadows of my mind - desires something to keep itself busy. A purpose beyond the mundanity of city life.

  A purpose that, ever since that fateful journey to the north with Kira, has become extremely important to me. An obsession, almost, to protect this city and its inhabitants from the devilry that resides beyond.

  Yes, I've had a few adventures since, both with Kira and without, yet nothing to match what we experienced far from here. An experience that, clearly, has scarred me, changed me, opened my mind...

  And most of all, given me the focus, the singular focus I need to continue to develop my powers. Continue to ensure that my people are protected.

  Adryan draws closer to me, as we sit against the headboard, his arm wrapping over my shoulder. I fall against his chest, my flowing locks of brunette hair cascading down his body. I feel tired, all of a sudden, my early wake up call, the whispering in my mind, now doused once more.

  My eyes glance to a clock on the wall. It's only four in the morning.

  "You need to sleep more, Brie. Don't think I haven't noticed you waking at night, going off on your...private little missions." He says it playfully, his tone staying light. The subject of my growing status as soldier, protector of New Haven - at least, that's what some of the people think of me - is a fairly sore one between us.

  Adryan never wanted me going off with Kira, dangerous as that mission was always going to be. And ever since, I've tried to keep him apart from my protective role here, separating my personal life from my military one as much as I can.

  It...well, it's not easy, given his position at my grandmother's side. It's the elephant in the room, especially at times like this. Try as he might to persuade me to give up on this new life, he'll never achieve it.

  I don't answer him, but merely nuzzle a little closer to his chest, feeling the warmth of his flesh against my cheek. We sit there for a while, my mind calming, my eyes beginning to grow heavy once more. Yet, something stops me from falling asleep.

  Is it this feeling? Being next to him, enjoying these quiet moments before I rise and pursue my endless task, and he heads off to his important work of seeing the city back to full health, see it prosper like it never has before. They are precious to me, moments like this. Though we make sure to spend as much time together as we can, I know I could do with more.

  Eventually, he shifts his position, settling me down against the bed, thinking I'm asleep. I watch as he dresses, slipping into his exercise gear, setting off for an early morning run around the centre of Inner Haven. He does so everyday before work, passing each morning by the war memorial that stands where the High Tower once did, honouring the many dead.

  It is his form of therapy, I know. His way of dealing with what we've all been through, easing the burden, respecting the fallen as he stops, each day, and spends a quiet moment before the cenotaph. We all have them, these little rituals we follow, these things we do to keep ourselves stable.

  Mrs Carmichael, my old guardian, has thrown herself into her work. That's her thing. That's what she does. Now, she's head of the entire city-wide drive to house, feed, and educate the many orphans of the city, their parents lost to the war.

  Tess does the same, helper to Mrs Carmichael as Adryan is to my grandmother. She spends almost all her time helping the kids now. Like our guardian, she has grown passionate about bringing the most affected kids back from the brink, stopping the trauma they've suffered from affecting their lives.

  At least as much as she can.

  Drum has also found his life's focus, committing to his path as a soldier within the reconfigured City Guard. Others are the same, following a singular route, a singular passion. Sophie, helping to run the refugee effort. Her half-Hawk husband, Rycard, now fitted with bionic left leg after losing his limb during the war, becoming Deputy Commander of the City Guard.

  All are seeking a way to be better, to do better, as a way of dealing with that's happened. All have excelled.

  And me? Well, my calling is just as singular as theirs, my passion just as fierce.

  To see this city safe, its borders protected.

  To make sure that, should anyone threaten us again, we send them right back from wherever the hell they came from.

  That is my life now.

  And whether Adryan likes it or not, it's not going to change.

  2

  Kira

  The sky is a wondrous mix of colour, the sunset a painting of reds, pinks, and warming, glorious purples.

  I'm hardly one for admiring such things like others are, but it's hard to deny the spectacle right now as I walk along the Tiber, the river reflecting the sky in strange patterns as it gently flows through the middle of the city of Neorome.

  I take in a long breath of fresh air, looking at the little stands and shops lining the river, the many small popinas and wine bars that draw in the local crowds at this time of day. There's a hustle here, a vibrancy that I quite like. With the suffocating grip of Empress Vesper now a fading memory, life here has begun to move on, the people able to live with a greater degree of freedom and security.

  I'm not alone, of course, as I wander down the river, naturally drawing the attention of the people as I pass. It's hard to know, really, who catches their interest more. Me, the Red Warrior, reigning and last ever Champion of the Imperial Games, or Domitian, their new co-Emperor and joint ruler, whom they owe much of their recent fortune.

  Or, perhaps, it's the large retinue of Imperial Guards that wander alongside, and around, us, keeping enough distance to give us privacy, and yet creating a perimeter that no one could e
ver hope to get through, should they be foolish enough to try.

  Yes, Dom and I can quite easily take care of ourselves, but you can never be too careful.

  Within that protective cordon, we stroll without a care in the world, smiling foolishly as we go. Though I miss certain people from back home, I must admit I'm happy for their absence right now. Were Brie to see me like this, I'm certain she'd have a few mocking words for me, blissful as my expression is, deliriously happy as I am.

  I...wouldn't blame her. If I caught my own expression in a mirror right now, I might just be in for seven years bad luck. I know how vomit-inducingly loved-up I must seem, but frankly, right now, I'm indulging it. I've lived my entire life running from personal happiness and, well, love. I'm damn well going to enjoy this while it lasts.

  "Beautiful tonight, isn't it," Dom muses, dressed in his flowing tunic of dark maroon, regal robes draped over his shoulders and all but hitting the floor. It's a little...ostentatious, but he still looks fantastic.

  I look ahead at the sunset, still changing by the moment, growing ever more glorious. A flock of starlings fly past, grouping and swirling in rhythmic patterns, all silhouetted against the dying light. "Not bad," I say, grinning. "I've seen worse."