Sparked (The Metal Bones Series Book 1)

Home > Other > Sparked (The Metal Bones Series Book 1) > Page 16
Sparked (The Metal Bones Series Book 1) Page 16

by Snow, Sheena


  His full, soft lips molded against mine, rubbing and caressing. His lips hummed as an undercurrent of electricity raced into me, raking up and down my body, leaving delicious shivers shooting through my toes. The heat of him tore through my chest.

  His lips left mine, breaking the kiss, and he panted against my neck.

  I buried my face into his chest and felt his heart racing against my cheek.

  Human in so many more ways than one.

  He leaned his forehead against mine and our noses touched.

  “Hang on,” he whispered, and then suddenly snowflakes whizzed across my cheeks as he raced us away. His feet swept us across the snow, and I felt like I was on a motorcycle gunning at top speed.

  The cold air stung my face, and I burrowed into the warmth of his shoulder. His arms tightened, warming me against the frosty winds.

  We slowed and then clumped up the stairs, to the cabin. His muscles tensed under my body and then with one slight move of his leg, Alec kicked the door down.

  “They’re here,” he announced.

  Chapter 22

  I felt my face heat as everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at us—me still in his arms, and then at the door beneath Alec’s feet. The cold wind howled behind us.

  “She’s okay. Right?” Bonnie zipped back into the room, holding a suitcase.

  Alec eased me down and pinpricks cascaded all over my body.

  “Nothing happened to her,” he said, and I was grateful he didn’t say anymore.

  “That’s all we could ask for.” Bear nodded and shoved another can from the pantry into a bag.

  “We’re ready.” Peach came out of the room with a checklist in her hands. She eyed me but didn’t say anything.

  I felt her message all the same. This is your fault.

  Only this time she was right. This time, it was my fault.

  A cold rush of air blew across my skin, knotting my hair around my face, and the door creaked beneath my feet as Alec and I moved off of it.

  “Let me do it.” Alec said, maneuvering around me to put the door back into its place.

  I watched his muscles bulge beneath his shirt, and I tugged at the collar of my suddenly too-tight parka.

  “It’ll need new hinges,” Alec said.

  “I didn’t mean to run from you.” My fingers clutched the collar of my parka.

  “We can talk about it later.” Alec put a chair against the knob. “We need to move.”

  “But still, I’m sorry.” I grabbed his hand. “You opened up and I just . . . ran away from you when you did.”

  “Vienna.” Alec sighed. “We can talk about this in the car later.”

  “Still. I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  He stopped in the process of hauling one of the bags over his shoulder. “I’m not.”

  “You’re not?” I frowned. How could he possibly not be angry at me at me for what I did? And putting us all at risk?

  He stepped toward me and every nerve in my body came to life. “You can run as many times as you want. Forever.” He halted when we were nose to nose, well nose to chest, and my blood pounded in my ears. “As long as you kiss me like that every time after.”

  A zing shot straight through my entire body.

  “Alec—”

  He hushed me with his finger. “Once we’re in the car.”

  I kissed his finger, even though the others were moving around us, and his nostrils flared, tightening my stomach muscles.

  He took one long glance at me and then turned back to what he had been doing.

  “I liked it, too,” I said and walked away before I could see his reaction.

  I sat in the car, warming my hands on the heater, watching as the crew revealed the use of their specific robot skills.

  Kyle had extinguished the roaring fire in the fireplace with one deep breath, Peach had somehow magically replaced the hinge and when she went to lock the door her hand morphed into a key to do it, and Bonnie had turned into a snowplow machine shoveling two feet of snow out of the way faster than any machine could dream of doing it. Bear’s contribution was a strong bang on the cars’ hoods, freeing them from the mountain of snow.

  To say whoa around this group, would be an understatement.

  Everyone had automatically filled in, helping where they were needed.

  Much like a well-oiled machine. No. I shook my head. Much like a family. A family that knew how to work together.

  I grimaced. Would I ever fit in? Just sitting here, in the car? Not being useful to anyone?

  I rubbed my frozen nose and listened to the wind howl outside. Additional heat filled the car when Alec sat inside.

  A thud sounded outside after Alec closed the car door. Ice and snow flew through the air, over Bonnie’s head, landing all over the place. Pieces twice as big as my body soared through the sky. Another crashed into a nearby tree and took out half the branches.

  Bonnie was . . . amazing.

  “No way,” I breathed.

  Alec nodded. “Way.”

  I pursed my lips. So Alec knew some human slang. Nice.

  “I hope . . .” Alec sighed, leaving the keys hanging in the ignition. “I just hope we don’t seem too weird to you.”

  I snorted. “Name one person who isn’t weird.”

  “Does that mean you’re comparing us to people? Human people? Did I just hear correctly?” He made a show of cupping his ear.

  I looked into his green eyes and smiled. “Yeah. Maybe.”

  His lips twitched up into a smirk and my heart flipped.

  “The road,” Peach yelled through the window in front of us, and I jumped in my seat. “All clear.”

  The road was clear. Completely. And it had only taken Bonnie a couple of minutes.

  “Peach means well. She really does.” Alec’s voice softened. “Peach has always been watching out for us. But recently”—he watched her walk away—“she’s taken it to a new level. I know she cares, it just doesn’t show like it should.” He rubbed his head. “Peach is part of us. We stick together. No matter what. We’re always there for each other.”

  I played with a button my jacket. Peach fit. But would I fit? Would I fit in with robots?

  Robots.

  No, I corrected myself. People. They were people, too. A different kind but still people.

  I tried to sleep but when I closed my eyes all I saw was Crooked Nose, running toward me, playing with his pocket watch, and the soles of his feet from when I was slung over his shoulder. Amazing. Out of everything, that was the thing that bothered me most. Not Alec ripping him apart. Not a shredded piece of an arm with electrical cords sizzling against metal bones in the snow next to me. No. It was him. Stalking me. Laughing at me. Tossing me over his shoulder and running. Maybe that was what scared me the most. Me, being taken some place where there was no turning back. Where there would be no more me.

  No more anything.

  I opened my eyes, trying to take myself away from the images, and what did my eyes do? They immediately drifted to Alec’s face, and lingered on his full, lush lips. New images flooded my mind—his hands, his chest, the warmth of his breath, his scent. The assault of the new emotions surfaced within me, and I winced.

  We still hadn’t talked about the kiss, and I didn’t know if I should wait for him or if he was waiting for me.

  I leaned back against the headrest.

  We’d been driving for six hours. Six long hours. My legs were stiff and my lower back ached. I tapped my foot against the floor, trying to restore feeling. Pins and needles stabbed their way up my knees. I sucked in a breath and clenched my teeth together.

  I wasn’t equipped to deal with this. Any of it.

  Mom. Tamera. I pushed them away.

>   I needed my friends. Sydney would know what to say, Carmen would know what to wear, and Jayla would know what to do. I need them. It was too much. I pressed my lips together. It was all too much.

  “You haven’t said anything the whole trip.” Alec traced his hand on the steering wheel. “I thought you’d at least be curious about where we’re going.”

  I hugged my jacket against my body. So this is the conversation he chose to break the silence. Not, Now is later. Not, I still remember our kiss. Not, I still remember the way you felt in my arms. Not, I want you.

  I pulled my hoodie over my head. And why was I so darn afraid of bringing it up? “It’s not like you would tell where we’re going anyway.”

  I felt his eyes on me. “What’s wrong?”

  That I want you. That I miss the way I feel in your arms.

  I turned away. “Nothing.”

  And just like that, Alec shut down. Both of us ignored each other, pretending the same dull dead trees passing by were more interesting than I wanted them to be.

  The radio deejay chose this moment to play a sad, slow song that I didn’t know. I became aware of Alec’s closeness to me, of the distance of his body from mine, of his warmth running through me, and of the reason we were on this expedition, in this car. Me. I was the reason he was putting everything on the line, putting everyone on the line.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “I know you didn’t. You want to tell me what’s really bothering you?”

  “The kiss,” I said.

  “I thought you liked it.”

  “And I thought you said you liked it.”

  Alec’s warm hand slipped into mine.

  “I did.”

  And with those two words, his warmth poured over me. I wove my fingers deep into his and he squeezed, locking our hands together.

  I latched on to him. On to his support. On to his strength. Everything would be okay. Everything would be all right. Mom. Tamera. My friends. School. This wild-goose chase. It was going to be okay.

  We drove like that for some way. My head pressed against the cool windowpane, his eyes focused on the road, our hands clasped together and my eyes . . . my eyes focusing on nothing.

  Nothing at all.

  I once heard how people partitioned their minds. They secluded the images, the things they couldn’t face and put them away, into a section of their mind where they locked them up and threw away the key, until a time when they could face them. A survival mechanism, waiting until they’ve built up enough armor to face their demons.

  I wondered if I’d been doing that my whole life. I wondered if that was why it was so easy for me to do it now. With Tamera. Had I been doing it all along with Mom? Did I have two separate places, one where nice, happy, smiling Vienna lived and another were lonely, scared, depressed Vienna lurked?

  I must have, because that was exactly where I pushed Aunt Tamera, to the back of my mind, to the space where I kept Mom. Like true sisters, they could share the space together. Only for different reasons. For very different reasons.

  I forced Tamera there, with Mom, staring at me, and then lowered the wall, leaving them locked behind the partition. I’m sorry, I told them. But I couldn’t deal with the love, loss, and heartbreak, and even though I was locking them away, I knew I was locking away part of myself. And it hurt. Like I was denying something from the very fiber of my being. But I had nothing left to give. Nothing.

  As of now, it would be over. That was then. This is now. They will be sorted out sometime later, in the future, when I could bear to open it. Not now, though. Not now.

  I twisted in my seat.

  Alec’s hand brushed against mine, and I froze.

  I forgot about that—about his hand in mine.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Define the meaning of okay,” I said.

  “I know. There’s been a lot put on you.”

  I tapped my foot on the bottom of the car floor. “Tell me,” I said, “I want to know, about life as a robot.”

  He pulled his hand out of mine and rubbed his face.

  Electric jolts shot up my arm.

  “What do you want to know?”

  I wanted to know him. A look inside the hard-core exterior of Alec, of the commander, of Green Eyes . . . of my savior.

  I tugged at my lips, my finger gliding over the chapped skin. “Whatever you want to tell me.”

  He laughed, a harsh bitter sound. “It’s nothing to romanticize about.” He tapped his fist against his knee. “Believe me.”

  “Then tell me the good parts.”

  “You mean the gore, the savagery, the rules and commands aren’t the good parts?” He shook his head.

  My fingers traced the threads in my jeans, following their uniformity. “So there was nothing then?”

  Nothing good or beautiful? Nothing unique to them? Nothing special?

  The car motor hummed, filling the air, telling me more than he ever would.

  “I see,” I said and curled into a ball on the seat.

  What did I think was going to happen? That he was going to open up? To spill his soul to me? It had only been a kiss. One kiss we shared. It didn’t mean I had been granted access to his soul.

  His hand raked through his hair and my eyes burned, remembering the closeness, the comfort he had given and then so sharply taken away.

  I tucked my knees under my chin and leaned against the door, still feeling his warmth radiating through the car, through me, still feeling his presence next to mine, still feeling too close.

  Still feeling him.

  I guess kisses don’t open all the closed doors. I guess sometimes kisses don’t mean much at all.

  Chapter 23

  We took a rest stop and I walked to the end of the street and sat on the curb facing the city below. Whatever city we were in now. I hadn’t been paying attention to the signs. Did it really even matter anymore? I might be traveling like this forever. I might never see my friends again. I might never see my family again. Dad. Mom.

  Mom?

  I choked and I felt Mom bang against the other side of the partition, her echoing cries vibrating in my head.

  I imagined the barrier and put everything I had into reinforcing it, making the walls, the doors, the floors, everything, soundproof—I clasped my head and focused—strengthening the walls, watching the fortifications seal the gaps as I pushed them up the wall and then . . . I relaxed.

  Blissful silence. Nothing but calm and tranquility.

  “Vienna?” A warm hand rested on my shoulder. “Are you ready to go?”

  Bonnie’s hand rubbed my shoulder, and I opened my eyes. Now there was no banging. Only silence. Wonderful silence.

  “Yes. Help me up.”

  Bonnie wrapped a hand around my waist and hauled me against her. We headed toward the car and I saw Alec standing outside.

  I stiffened, remembering our last conversation and his unwillingness to open up to me.

  Bonnie ran her fingers through my hair. “He’s not used to it.”

  “To what?”

  “To you.” Bonnie pushed me toward the car.

  I stumbled and opened the car door, feeling Alec’s eyes on me.

  When I peered inside the car, I saw that two more books and another box of the chocolate chip cookies I liked so much sat on the floor.

  I closed the door and flipped to the back of the books.

  “I didn’t mean to shut you out,” Alec said.

  “Then don’t.”

  “Vienna,” he said with a sigh. “I’m not . . . I’m not the hero you make me out to be.”

  “You’re not the monster you make yourself out to be either.”
/>   He traced his hand on the steering wheel. “You don’t know how bad I wish that was true.”

  “It’s true.” I flailed my arms in the air. “You’re not a monster. And you never will be.”

  “But you don’t know . . .” He tugged at his shirt, trying to cover the scar that rested on the side of his neck. And I knew the flashbacks he was having, the memories going through his mind. But he wasn’t the only one with demons in his closet. He wasn’t the only one with two sides.

  “And I don’t care.”

  “How can you say that?” His fists tightened against the steering wheel. “You don’t even know anything about me.”

  “Then tell me.”

  He snorted. “You wouldn’t want to know.”

  I grunted.

  And you wouldn’t want to know about the soundproof wall in my head.

  I crossed my arms. “You can’t know that.”

  His voice deepened. “But, Vienna, you haven’t seen—”

  “I was there!” I bolted out of my seat. “Where were you? I was there. I watched the whole thing. I watched you rip him apart, and you know what? That’s not what scares me. That’s not what haunts my thoughts when I close my eyes. That’s not what creeps into my mind and freaks me out when I’m alone. You’re not it. You’re actually the only one that even comes close to making everything okay. You’re the only reason I can close my eyes and don’t start screaming. So stop with the you haven’t seen. I have. And you’re the reason it’s all okay. So stop.” I breathed in gulps of air and turned away from him. “Just stop.”

  I dropped my head into my hands and my heart pounded against my ribs.

  What have I done? What have I told him?

  I pressed my palms against my eyes, trying to make everything go away, trying to take my words back.

 

‹ Prev