Sparked (The Metal Bones Series Book 1) (19 page)

So tiny. So small. So insignificant in the forest encompassing it, filled with millions of other leaves. And yet it brought its own beauty to the silent forest.

So weathered and beaten on the outside but so vibrant and beautiful for a moment or two on the inside.

I picked the leaf up and held it to the light. Sunlight highlighted the tiny veins and poked through the minute holes.

“Vienna?” Alec’s voice was soft and rooted my feet to the ground. This was the part of him that wasn’t so human. The creeping-up-on-people part.

“Alec?” I hesitated and then pushed my knees up off the ground. I turned to his pain-laced eyes and my stomach clenched.

And everything fell away. Everything he kept from me. Everything he pretended wasn’t there. Everything he pretended didn’t happen.

I pulled him into my arms, and spread my fingers across his back. He closed his body around me and rested his face against my head.

“I’ve killed more humans than I can count. I’ve hunted so many people it would take me hours to recite their names. I’ve hurt children. I’ve—”

“Shhh.” I pressed a finger to his lips. “It’s all in the past now.”

“I wanted to tell you so bad. I just . . . I never knew how.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Would you change your mind about me if I told all the hurt I’ve caused in this world?” I whispered.

He wove his fingers between the strands of my hair. “I can’t image you harming anyone that didn’t deserve it.”

“I’ve harmed plenty that didn’t deserve it.” I thought about the soundproof wall again, and everyone locked inside, and pushed it away.

We held each other. Me leaning on him, him leaning on me. “I saw it,” I said.

His fingers played with my ponytail. “You saw what?”

“The beauty.” I tightened my fingers on his jacket. “The beauty in the simplicity.” I slid the leaf out of my pocket.

“You found it?” He took the leaf and twirled it from the stem. “In that?”

I rolled my eyes. “You think you’re so funny. Don’t you?” I snatched it from him and shoved the leaf back in my pocket.

“You’re keeping it?” He crossed his arms and cocked his eyebrow.

I rolled my eyes at him.

Yes.
I smiled.
Just like I’m keeping you.

When we came back to the hotel, the sun was setting and the guys were helping Bear clean off the dirt from the car. Bonnie sat next to me, on the curb, resting her chin on her knees. “Steve would”—her hair bounced around her face—“he would have liked you”—her voice kept getting lower until it was as if the wind had carried her words away entirely.

I squeezed her hand, so small under mine. “How long were you together?”

“Three years.” Her eyes glazed over. “Three too short years.”

I swallowed. “It sounds like they were three wonderful years though.”

“Yeah . . .” She threaded her fingers through mine, white and auburn interlocking. “They were. That they definitely were.”

She smiled, her beautiful full lips turning up at the end.

I rested my head on my knees, like her, and saw Bonnie’s eyes flashing back to memories of him. And I saw the joy and the love displayed on her face. I stared ahead and let her enjoy the images. I hoped they were marvelous ones.

She squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back, causing our hands to swing through the air.

The men scrubbed and bubbles lifted on the wind, buoyant and glistening, dancing along with the breeze. And like all bubbles, eventually sinking to the earth, and upon contact, popping.

“We need to talk.” I jumped at the sound of Peach’s voice, from over my shoulder.

“Geez,” I huffed and clutched at my racing heart. “Not all of us have that silent and deadly-approach-thing mastered.” I bent over and breathed.

She gave me a frozen blue arctic stare and before I could open my mouth, Bonnie tugged me next to her again, plopping me back on the curb.

“Any news?” Alec tossed the sponge into the bucket causing more suds to fill the air.

Peach’s stern lips pursed and she nodded her head.

“They’re close.” Kyle said, gazing in what I assumed was the direction of the cottage and then shuddered. “I feel them.”

Alec’s eyes narrowed in the same direction as Kyle’s. “We’re leaving tonight. How many are there?”

“Enough,” Kyle said, and Alec grimaced, understanding everything Kyle didn’t need to say.

I swallowed, wishing they wouldn’t leave me in the dark. It was almost worse. The not knowing. The not understanding. Maybe robots didn’t realize how imaginative human’s minds could be—how complicatingly specific and worst-case-scenario we could immediately assume the situation would be.

“I have an idea. Come on, guys,” Peach said and left, leaving a worried-filled presence swirling above us.

Alec walked over to Bonnie and me, soap suds still on his wrists, and helped us up. “Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to happen.” He kissed my brow. “Pack up and then relax for the road tonight.”

I gave him my best Bonnie smile and he walked off with Kyle. Bonnie sauntered over to Bear and helped him put away the washing equipment, using her super speed.

I stood there, twisting my fingers.

How long could I keep doing this to these people and how long before the robots came knocking down our door? And then what would happen to them?

I made my way into the hotel room, dropped the key on the desk, and collapsed onto the bed, letting my head fall between my knees.

Everything was so screwed up. What would happen to Alec, to Bonnie, to Bear, to Kyle if they were caught? I squeezed my eyes shut and warm tears slid down my face.

For the first time since I left my house, all I wanted was my dad.

I sank back in the chair and stared at the ceiling through my watery eyes.

How were any of us going to get out of this mess?

I rolled my head, and as if the universe was talking to me, there, reflecting in the light, in Peach’s suitcase was a gleaming black cell phone.

My heart eased and I felt like I had just been given a gift.

I licked my lips and I crawled forward. My fingers flittered down into Peach’s bag, Dad’s voice just moments away, and withdrew the black shiny phone. I cleaned away the dried tears from eyes and made for the bathroom door, locking it behind me.

Chapter 26

“Hello?” Dad picked up on the first ring.

My heart stretched for its other pieces at the sound of Dad’s voice and my lip trembled.

“Who’s there?” Dad asked.

“Me,” I whispered and slid down the door to the white tile floor.

“Vienna? My baby. Is that . . .?” His voice cracked. “Is that really you?”

“Oh, Dad,” I whimpered and clutched the phone to my ear. “Dad.”

“Shh, shh, there, there now. Oh, Vienna.” Dad’s voice lightened. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” I said, “I’m fine. I just . . .” My lip trembled again. “I just really miss you.”

And I want out of here. And I don’t want to put these people in harm’s way. And I don’t know what to do to make anything better. And I don’t know where else to turn.

“And we miss you more than you could possibly know,” Dad said.

We?

“Robotatouille is doing a fine job of taking care of us.”

I nearly snorted. The irony of the whole dang thing. “How are you even managing knowing what he is and that he’s all over the house?”

“It’s better than being unprepared. Vienna.” Dad’s voice filled with urgency, and I could imagine him waving his arms around at me from the other side. “I’ve been doing research and I’m on the edge of something. I feel it. Hang in there for a little bit longer, Vienna. Can you do that for me?”

“Of course, Dad,” I said, sounding like my old self again. “And I’m glad you’re okay. Please, keep being safe.”

“Always am.” I heard him smile. “Your mom just left. She’ll be devastated she missed you but I’ll tell her you called.”

My heart dropped. “Of-Of course.”

“She would have loved to hear your voice.”

I nodded, my throat suddenly filled with cotton.

“We miss you.” 

“And I . . .” I cleared my throat. “And I miss you.”

The hotel door clicked open.

My eyes widened, and I scrambled to flush the toilet. “I have to go,” I whispered.

“Take care of yourself, Vienna.”

“You too, Dad.” I hung up and pressed the phone against my forehead. I should have felt guilty for calling. But I didn’t. I missed Dad. And I missed Dad’s voice. I even missed Mom—I did—covered in paint and lost in her own world.

I closed my eyes and waited. My soundproof walls didn’t budge—didn’t echo, didn’t vibrate, didn’t creak.

Nothing.

Mom was lost on the other side.

I leaned my head back against the door.

Blissful, beautiful silence.

“Vienna?” Peach pounded. “You in there?”

Crap!

I shoved the phone into my parka and opened the door.

Peach eyed me, noting the redness in my eyes. “Get ready. We’re leaving in five.”

I nodded. She turned around and gathered her things from the counter and as she did, I dropped the cell phone into her luggage and grabbed her purse lying right next to it. “Here,” I said, and handed Peach her purse.

Peach stilled and gave me that what-just-happened-to-you-look.

I shrugged. “Meet you outside.” I stashed my hands in my pockets and walked out, leaving her standing there, looking as if her purse had suddenly been sprinkled in fairy dust and lifted off the carpet.  

I turned around as we drove past them, leaving them in the dust. Far in our dust. “You act as if this is a racing competition.” I held my hands up to the heater.

“Everything is a competition for us,” Alec said.

Humph.
“I see. And why do you even have cars if you guys all have super speed?”

“Because.” Alec pulled my hand away from the heater and kissed the top. His kiss was even hotter than the air vent. “Not all of us have super speed.”

“Ah. You mean Kyle, Bear, and Peach,” I said. His fingers caressed my hand. “I keep forgetting you all have your own specialties.” I stared at bleeps on the radio. “They wouldn’t want . . .”

“They wouldn’t want what?” he asked.

My heart dropped in my chest.

Goose bumps formed along my arms.

“Where’d—” My tongue stuttered in my mouth.

Oh God.

“Wh-Wh-Wh-Where’d”—I hovered in front of the green beeping dots, on the radio—“Where’d-Where’d Bear’s car go?”

“Bear’s . . .” He frowned and tapped the radio. “Bear’s always . . .” His faced drained.

The car swerved. We jolted off the highway. I pummeled into the car door, fumbling to clutch the door handle. We sped past an abandoned gas station and into—

“Alec!” I screamed.

My head slammed into the roof as we drove into the trees. The car pounded against the ditches, blew over stumps and roots, and skittered across dry leaves. My seatbelt strained against my chest and my head thumped against the headrest.

Branches smacked against the windshield, screeching against the windows. Trees. Branches. Trees. Branches. Left—right—left.

We swerved . . .

And hit.

My neck whipped forward. My body snapped back and I collided with the seat.

Ugh.

Everything was moving and turning and flipping and growing and hovering and—

I dry heaved onto the floor.

“Vienna?” Alec opened my car door and lifted me out, cradling me in his arms. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

My ears rang.

Ring-ring-ring-ring-ring.

“I lost control and the car spun out,” he whispered in my ear. 

I moaned as his heat rushed into me, warming me, trying to revive my jelly-filled bones.

Ring-ring-ring-ring.

The car sputtered next to us, shaking and sparking and smoking. The passenger door dangled helplessly in the air and a hissing sound came from under the hood.

Ring-ring-ring.

Alec set me against the trunk of a tree and tugged at my parka zipper, trying to open it.

Ring-ring.

“As much as I want you.” My hand slumped over his heart, feeling his muscles underneath. “I don’t think now’s the time for this.”

“I wasn’t even thinking about that,” he said, between clenched teeth, “and now I’ll never be able to get the image out of my mind.”

Ring.

My zipper broke in his hands and he cursed. “You’re too hot for your own good.”

Ring.

My heart soared.

“You think I’m hot?” My head rolled against the tree bark and I bit my lip.

“One more word, Vienna, and they’re going to find us in a compromising position right next to a soon-to-be exploding car.”

I smiled and closed my eyes as he gave up and broke open the zipper with his bare hands. He tugged my bright blue parka off and I heard him throw it at the car.

I wondered if my navy jacket underneath was next.

“So if you’re not in the mood, why are you stripping me?” I asked.

“Vienna,” he threatened, and when I opened my eyes, his eyes were the darkest green I had ever seen. “If you open your mouth one more time, I’m going to have to gag you.”

I’d love you to try that.

I chuckled instead and shut my mouth.

Alec narrowed his eyes. “I’ll gag your whole damn body if it means getting you out of here alive. The car tracks will lead them straight to us. Straight to
you
.”

“Lead who?” My head throbbed as I pushed off the tree.

The radio dots.

A thread of panic raced through my body. “They found us,” I whispered, and fell back against the tree.

Ring.

“Don’t move,” Alec said and turned around, listening for something I couldn’t hear.

“I’m fine,” I said. “Really.” I stood and this time nothing moved. “We need to get moving anyway. Right?”

Alec grabbed my hand. “We need to get as far from here as possible. The car’s trail might as well be a sign leading straight to us.”

“How much time do we have?”

“I have no idea.” He tugged me along after him and I followed his lead, my feet landing on the same quiet moss his did, my body contorting around the same prodding branches his did.

“How are you feeling?” he asked minutes later.

“My head isn’t spinning, if that’s what you mean,” I said, worming my way after him through a bush.

“I’m sorry. I knew we had to get off the highway and I couldn’t think of anywhere else to turn the car—”

“You saved my life.” I yanked him around. “Stop beating yourself up all the time.” His dark hair fell into his beautiful green eyes and I traced the angles of his face. “You’re so much more than what you give yourself credit for.”

“If you only knew—”

His words were cut off by the rumbling of the earth.

Metal groaned, being remolded against its will. Glass shattered, knifing through air and stabbing into trees. Branches cracked, splintering and dropping to the ground.

“They’re here.” Alec’s fingers tightened around my hand.

A whistle pierced through the sky from the crash site and we turned to watch our car door swaying in the tree, thirty feet in the air. I gulped. The door fell, smashing and turning through branch after branch until it collided, with a crack, onto the ground. A rain of branches, of all sizes, and leaves dropped on top of it.

The air left my chest as if the impact had been me.

“Come out, come out,” called a hard voice through the trees. “Wherever. You. Are.”