Planet Heist (The Dunham Archives Book 1) (12 page)

“The black door in the middle is mine, the red one is Rowan’s, and the white one on the left is yours.” I nodded toward his door, “I hope you like it, as I designed each of the rooms myself.”

“I’m sure I will. I’ll meet you outside then.”

I walked into my room, smiling at it. This is, of course, my favorite suite that I had ever designed. The front room is silver and blue, out of my usual color theme. More floor to ceiling windows were on the back wall, looking out on a view of the waterfalls that I had fallen in love with as a child. The silver curtains blew around as if in a breeze. On the wall was a large painting, 36x36. The painting itself was of a bright white birch tree with a pristine silver sky behind it. Of course, the painting itself isn't important at all; what is important is the safe behind it. In that safe is something that I will reveal later.

In this room sat a white couch, a silver desk and computer, and a broad archway leading into my bedroom, where the largest bed I had ever purchased sat invitingly. The blankets were white silk with bright blue embroidery and my silver calligraphy initials. There were ten pillows on top of my double king size bed, all made of lavish material from foreign lands.

And then there’s my closet.

My closet in Saize would be the envy of every woman and teenage girl in the entire world, if they were to see it. The closet is about the size of the kitchen, so fairly large. This is the house where I really indulged my every want. There are several closets inside of it, containing all of my favorite articles of clothing, from sparring clothes to formal attire. Drawers on the side of the room – at least thirty of them – are filled with priceless jewelry; diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, rubies, and rare gems found only on my home planet – umanis, a rare, bright blue crystal, saindas, bright yellow gems that can grow as large as my head, and ikielies, an effervescent, neon gem worth more than eighty billion dollars for a half carat piece the size of a bead. I sold one to the forty-fourth president of the United States and he gave me four trillion for it – and that’s why the economy crashed. In one of the closets is a whole scene of disguise things, from body paint and vibrantly colored contacts that’ll actually cover my black eyes to fake noses and hundreds of pairs of glasses. But my favorite features are the shoe racks. From the ceiling, if I pressed a series of buttons on the wall, floor to ceiling racks of shoes, each holding a hundred or so pairs, came down in front of me. In total, I believe I had four-thousand pairs of shoes in this house, all catalogued so I’d be able to find them, no matter what room they ended up.

I pulled off my dangling diamond earrings and necklace and placed them carefully into a case, and then walked over to one of the closets that contained light sparring clothes, mostly form fitting tank tops and shorts. Of course, I could fight in anything I happened to have on at the time, but it was simply much easier to wear comfortable, casual clothes to brutally attack people. So, I put on a red sports bra, (knowing that I would probably get hit in the stomach and not wanting to have to change to heal myself) and a pair of black shorts, becoming mentally prepared for another fight. I put my hair up in a ponytail, exposing my tattoos. I had gotten the first on the back of my neck, and then decided to get the second next to it.

The first is a diamond, because I stole one of earth’s priceless artifacts, the Sceptre with the Cross, some king’s scepter, after it was redesigned to hold the Cullinan I, the second largest polished diamond on Earth, weighing 530.4 carats. It’s kept in my home Lair on Saize. The second tattoo is of a golden bullet, shot out of the most expensive and powerful gun in the universe, the Kalim 7v5, perfected on the planet Neara, a gun that can shoot thirty-thousand miles per second. I stole it from the reigning monarch on Neara, King Thama VI. Both tattoos had the date I had stolen them under the picture itself, one from when I was twelve, the other when I was fourteen. I’ve tried to do one crime a week, except for big ones, so I reach a hundred every two years, with a moth to plan a spectacular crime in between.

I thought back to my fight with Salah, trying not to be distracted.

I had already decided not to use my mental powers to break him down, so I would have to simply use my wits and sheer strength to possibly break several of his bones. Now that I have the healing formulas that Hearthwood gave me, I wouldn’t have to go easy on him anymore, and I was forced to assume he wouldn’t extend that courtesy to me, either. I slipper the healing things in my back pocket.

After I had changed, I walked out of my room and walked down the hallway. I decided quickly to take the stairs, a premature warm-up. I ran into Rowan when I reached the bottom floor.

“Take these, will you?” I asked, placing the tubes and spray bottle in his hand, “I plan on breaking several of Salah’s bones, so I’ll need those later.”

“I see you’re ready as always. I really hope you’re planning on avenging my loss.” He said quietly.

“I don’t think that ‘loss’ was really that. I think that since the police were screwing with your brain, it was pretty much a cheap shot on Salah’s part,” I smiled.

“I know. But he technically won, so let me just say that he won a bet involving you.”

“What?!” I asked, angry and shocked, “What did I tell you about betting on my fights?”

“Well, we didn’t exactly bet on
your fight
, per say. It was more about you physically.”

I said, knowing where this was going, “You didn’t.”

“I did, actually.”

“How could you?! You know I don’t believe in relationships with co-conspirators! I yelled angrily.

“I never thought he would win!”

“Yeah, you obviously didn’t think
at all
about that little situation!” I said, my rage boiling over more than a little. I do now know for a fact that Salah is paying too much attention to me for a reason that’s been prevalent through the small stay together. Though, I hate to admit, Salah is stunningly attractive and I might be a little engrossed in him, but at this point the Xeron is my first and only priority.

“Kai, calm down. When I beat him today in a rematch, I win the bet.”

I took a deep breath to avoid hitting him in the face.

“Well then, if you don’t win, I will punch you so many times you’ll breathe through your forehead.” I said seriously.

He chuckled and we walked outside together, where I saw Salah stretching. I personally, unlike most, don’t care about stretching since I’m already in top physical condition, ready to beat everyone and anyone who comes at me.

I walked up to him and he stopped stretching, immediately smiling at me.

“So, what did you think of the rooms?” I asked in an attempt to be innocuous.

“Cut the crap and let’s fight.” He replied seriously, shocking me.

“Alright. I hope you know that I won’t go easy on you now that I can heal you faster than I could before.” I told him.

“Is
that
why you were going easy on me before?” He asked suggestively.

“I was worried you couldn’t take it.” I said honestly.

“Well we’ll find out, now that my ribs have healed since the last time you broke them.”

“I’ll just have to fix that then.”  I said as I stepped into a stance of battle, “No count, just come at me.”

I waited for about thirty painstaking seconds, and then he ran at me, taking me by a bit of a shock. But then I was on my game. As he tried to grab me by the wrist, I put him in a headlock and flipped him onto the ground. He jumped up immediately and then took a hit at my face, landing a square punch on my jaw, thoroughly enraging me. That’s the second time he’s hit my face. I slapped my hand across his face as he did mine a week ago, left four scratches parallel across his cheek. Then I cracked his shoulder with a sideways punch. He punched me in the stomach, but his fist just bounced off my stomach muscles. Of course, I could still feel the crunch of my ninth and tenth ribs. Enraged, I allowed my full power to pulse through my muscles, setting my soul on fire as I sent a right hook at his shoulder, a distraction. Although by now, he knew I would attempt a distraction, so I employed a counter distraction, what he would perceive as my real move. In the moment of his block, I jumped in the air and kicked him in the chest, leaving him struggling for balance. During his split second of weakness, I elbowed him in the side, punched him in the neck, and kicked in his left shin, breaking it. He collapsed on the ground, but in strong persistence grabbed my ankle and pulled me to the ground, where he smiled at me. Even with a leg broken, he managed to get onto one of his knees, and, in a rather pathetic manner, elbow me in the stomach, landing a serious blow. As his arm made contact with my torso, I grabbed his hands and crushed them inside of mine, using the full force of my strength, quelling any tiny dreams he still possessed of winning.

“Surrender?” I asked, “I don’t want to have to break any more of you bones.”

“I surrender. Fix them now, will you?” He cringed through the pain.

“Alright.” I walked toward him and Rowan came toward me, handing me the healing implements.

“Give me your hands.” I said. Once I had his hands, I rubbed the white cream across them and felt them heal under mine. I could still feel my broken ribs, cracked terribly close to my sternum. If Salah’s blow had been one inch over, I wouldn’t have been able to heal it. They say a break in your sternum is the worst because the tip of the bone can break off and pierce your heart. When I looked at his leg, I felt almost bad about it. It was an open fracture, and the bone was poking through his skin, just above his ankle. I spread the blue gel over it, and as the skin closed, I spread on the bone healing cream on my leg, and then over my ribs, where I felt the bones in my chest reforming themselves.

“Alright, since I win, I get to watch while you fight Rowan. And Row,” I reminded him, “If you don’t win, we’ll be fighting later, and I won’t be civil.” I threatened.

Salah obviously caught on to why I was mad at my brother, “Oh I can assure you he won’t.” Salah cut in.

“Rowan better win, or I’ll skin you both due to your own stupidity.” I growled.

“Fantastic.” Rowan chuckled, “On that note, I believe we should fight.”

Salah stood up, his healed wounds now giving him a jolt of adrenaline. When your body speeds up healing processes, the after affects are heightened senses and altered hormone levels. That means I could’ve just set up for Rowan to lose his fight.

Rowan struck out first, thumping his opponent in the chest with more force than imaginable. Salah returned with a slam to Rowan’s neck and then and elbow to the shoulder. My brother slammed his fist into Salah’s side, right over his appendix. Salah then unleashed an onslaught of slams on Row’s collarbone, slowly pushing him to the ground. Rowan’s legs bent under the continuous pressure, and soon he was on his knees. When Salah stopped smacking his collarbone, he began brutishly smacking Rowan in the stomach with his knees. Rowan saw the obvious opening and grabbed Salah by his ankles and flipped him down, where he smacked against the turf. But then, when it seemed that Salah would lose, he used the flat of his left hand to smack my brother in the head.

Rowan went out cold.

“I win.” Salah said turning to me. I waited for my brother to wake up, but figured it could take a while, so as Salah walked towards me, I began.

“So, what
exactly
did you guys bet?” I asked suspiciously. I figured that I was safe to talk about this while my brother was passed out.

“He said I could take you on a date if I won.” He smiled charmingly.

“I know. And I have a confession: I’m not mad that you won.” I told him, and the smile on his face broadened.

“So-”

“Wait. I like you. A lot. But the thing is…I can’t…be with you.” I told him in a rare attempt at being nice.

“Why not?”  He seemed stunned.

“Most importantly, I’m ruthless. If I allow myself to get attached to you, I’ll have a weak spot. I know that if, for example, Dmitri Ivanov said that to kill him, I’d have to kill you, and even now I know I would never be able to do it, though it’s been one of my main goals since I was ten to destroy him. If I killed you, I’d never forgive myself. For another reason, I live on another planet, and this is the first time you’ve been off of Earth. My brother hates you, and he’s the person I trust most in the world. I trust his judgment. And I killed your father. I don’t understand how you can even look at me without wanting to destroy me.” I told him, “So-”

“No. You listen to me. If Dmitri Ivanov attacked me, I would kill him. I don’t care if you live on another planet. I’m an orphan, so I can live wherever I want. I’ll make your brother like me if that’s what it takes. Finally, my father was a horrible person and I was already plotting to get someone to kill him and then you did. It was a dream come true. He was never a real father to me and never a husband to my mother. My mother died when I was six, and since then I’ve pretty much been raising myself. And,” He continued, “I’m not giving up on you until you fall for me.”

“Well, if you can sway me, you win. But if you can’t, you’ll have to deal with us just being…accomplices.” I told him, knowing this was a battle I would win.

“Fine. So you’ll go to dinner with me tomorrow night?” He asked suddenly.

“I guess so, if you can figure out somewhere to go, because I’m not going to tell you that my favorite restaurant is Aliquam in the capital on a road called Viridis. Have fun.” I lied, not wanting him to know my real favorite restaurant. “And don’t tell Rowan. I’ll tell him some lie so he won't gut you like a fish.” I smiled.