Jonah

by Nikki Kelly

  I blinked heavily, becoming increasingly tired from the strain I was placing on my right eye due to the lack of sight in my left. Jonah never missed anything, and his tone changed. “Lailah, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Why’d you follow me here?”

  “Oh, I dunno, maybe because given the chance, you’d have told me not to, and you know how I like to ignore you.”

  He smirked.

  Bad humor and ambiguous sarcasm were the closest Jonah ever really came to an apology. He had hurt me this morning when he accused me of trying to take the easy way out by going to the third to die.

  I sat on the edge of the mattress, scratching my cheek. The resin securing my mask needed reapplying. It was starting to irritate my skin. “My jeans pocket,” I said flatly.

  Jonah hesitated, but then was in and out of the bathroom in a blink, producing the piece of paper I’d stolen from his sketchbook. Unfolding the sheet, he took one look and said, “You took this?”

  “Yes. It’s the reason I’m here.”

  Jonah tugged the back of his thick hair, shifting his weight.

  “When you apologize for keeping things from me, I’ll apologize for snooping,” I added.

  His hazel eyes narrowed, and he took a moment, but finally he said, “Fine. For the sake of not wanting to spend the night on the floor, I’m gonna let this go.”

  “You’re very sure of yourself.” I pulled a camisole-and-shorts set from my overnight bag.

  He was quick-witted as always. “That’s because I am always a sure thing, beautiful.” He winked at me, and I rolled my eyes, but the action stung. Grimacing, I let the satin pajamas drop to my lap, raising my hand to my right eye.

  Jonah lunged forward, his chest falling as he breathed my name. “Lailah—”

  I cut off his growing concern with a wave of my hand. “Can you please tell me how, from the little description I gave, you managed to piece together a robot?”

  He hesitated. “Because I saw the same thing you did, only I saw all of it.” He wandered over to the drapes and tugged them closer together.

  “What? How?”

  His answer was not forthcoming.

  “Jonah?” I said in a sharp whisper.

  He turned around. “Because I dreamed it, too.”

  “You’re a Vampire, you don’t sleep.”

  “Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.” Marching across the room, Jonah pulled off his jacket and launched it too hard at the chair in the corner, making it wobble and nearly tip over.

  “Shhh,” I warned, pressing my finger to the middle of my pursed lips. I racked my brain for any possible explanation, finding only one that made any sort of sense.

  “I—” Jonah started, at the same moment I said, “Maybe—”

  We both stopped, and Jonah gestured for me to go first.

  “Maybe it has something to do with the time distortion. We were both in the third, after all.” I paused, collecting my thoughts. “I don’t have to be asleep to experience a vision. Maybe you weren’t, maybe it just felt like you were.”

  Jonah’s lips parted, but he stopped short of saying whatever he was about to. He swallowed and then stretched his lips into a small smile. “You’re probably right.”

  “Was that all you saw?” I pressed. It was chilly, so I slipped under the duvet and untied my dressing gown.

  “Yeah,” he said, now more than a little distracted as I attempted to change underneath the covers. “So what’s the tin man got to do with the toff?”

  I shimmied the shorts up my legs, letting the waistband rest below my hips. I’d begun to pull the camisole on over my head when suddenly Jonah was pressed against me, the duvet the only thing separating us. I froze as his smooth hands wrapped over my wrists, the feel of his skin against mine heating me. Slowly, he tossed my camisole aside and leaned in, touching the tip of his nose to mine. He wet his lips as he slid his hand through my hair. My breathing hitched as he unclasped the crystal hairpin. All the while, his hooded eyes never left mine.

  “On second thought, tell me in the morning,” he murmured.

  SEVENTEEN

  I LAY ON MY SIDE, facing the drapes, with one arm under my pillow. My back was to Jonah as he traced his fingertips over the scar running down my spine. Then, bringing his arm over my chest, he nuzzled into the crevice of my neck. His fragrance was ever changing. Lately the summertime woods aroma I’d favored had been replaced by that vanilla cologne. But now as I breathed him in, he had a sweet, musky, manly sort of smell.

  Jonah sat up and tucked my hair behind my ear, his hazel eyes growing wider. It was as though he were seeing me for the very first time. “You have never looked so beautiful, beautiful.”

  Squeezing my hand over his, I said, “Jo—” I didn’t get a chance to utter the second syllable that made up his name because his finger pressed the middle of my parted lips, and he shook his head from left to right. “Just one more minute.”

  One minute became five as he silently stared at me. Finally, he leaned in and, taking advantage of my parted lips, molded his mouth to mine. His kiss sealed a promise, and though it was well intentioned, it couldn’t be anything but cruel, because it wasn’t one he would be able to keep.

  “Before,” I began, “when you said just one night—”

  “I meant what I said.”

  “But you knew, didn’t you?”

  Jonah didn’t reply.

  “You knew that’s all it would take,” I said. “Just one night to break me.”

  It was slow to form, but a soft smile edged the corners of his delicious lips. “Knew is a strong word.”

  “What word would you use?”

  He considered me before offering an answer. “Hope. I hoped one night would be enough. That one would lead to many. That it would give you reason to add another soul to your list of those worth fighting for.”

  “What are you talking about? I’ve been fighting for you ever since the day we met.”

  “No. Not me. You, Lailah.” He took a breath. “You.”

  A shiver ran up my spine, and I knew for sure then what he had done to me. I brought my knees to my chest and swung my legs off the bed. Grabbing my jeans and shirt, I dressed quickly.

  I stuffed my pajamas into the overnight bag. “I’m going to die, Jonah. I have to die. All you’ve done is made it that much harder, that much more painful to let go.”

  “I won’t let you let go.” Jonah’s hands clamped over my hips, and he drew me into him, staking his claim. “You don’t have to die.”

  Exhaling, I closed my heavy eyes, and the luminous green triangles were waiting. I fluttered my eyelashes to escape them. “There’s a painting out on the landing that says different.” I pulled away, making for the door. “Get dressed. I’ll meet you out front.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To say good-bye to my friend.”

  I closed the door and headed for the stairs but was interrupted by a loud clatter coming from Darwin’s bedroom. Though my Angel lineage meant I was capable of sleeping, Jonah’s sudden appearance had put a stop to any rest I might have had. I didn’t know what the time was, but perhaps it was a little early for breakfast. I drifted to Darwin’s door and knocked twice.

  “Darwin?”

  “Come in,” he replied quickly.

  He was down on one knee, picking up a spoon and tray that must have fallen to the floor. Fortunately, the pot of tea that had likely found its way here on that tray was safe on his desk.

  “You’re working already?” I asked.

  He straightened, setting the tray on his desk chair. “You know what they say, early bird catches the worm.”

  He was far too chipper for someone who had spent the night before knocking back as much plonk as he had.

  He began to pour himself a cup of tea. “Sorry, let me get a second cup for you.”

  “No, thank you.” Though the clock above his laboratory table read just after 6 a.m., I wasn’t intending to stay. But then my
eyes scanned the pile of books littering the table, and one in particular demanded that I remain a little longer.

  “Dark Matter?” I said, noting the title. Given the state of the third dimension, I needed to see what he knew on the subject. “Has something to do with your field of study—with M-theory, was it?”

  “You could say that.… Though it’s part and parcel, really.” He stirred his tea. “There’ve always been plenty of theories on the stuff, but it’s only in recent years that we’ve gotten closer to finding evidence of its existence in the universe.”

  “How?” I asked.

  Blowing on his brew, he answered plainly, “Light.”

  “Light?”

  “Clusters of it, radiating from the Milky Way.”

  I wriggled my nose. “I would have thought there’d be plenty of light coming from the Milky Way, but I don’t understand what that has to do with dark matter.”

  “You’re quite right, but light comes in many forms, and a specific set of characteristics were present within some gamma rays emitted from the center of the Milky Way, which wholly supports the theory of dark matter.”

  My face must have given away my incomprehension.

  When he took a deep breath, I knew I was in for a Darwin-esque explanation. “Dark matter is essentially made up of weakly interacting massive particles—otherwise known as WIMPs—and when they collide, they completely destroy one another. When that happens, naturally it creates an explosion.” He took a sip of his tea. “What we’re talking about here is highly dense pure energy, which, post-explosion, decays in the form of gamma rays. The characteristics discovered in the ones more recently detected can’t be attributed to anything else. It’s a real leap forward in proving that dark matter actually exists.”

  “Right.” This may have been Darwin’s version of simple science, but it was still pretty mind-boggling.

  “You were saying before, at the bar, about different dimensions,” I said. “Do you think an entire world could be made out of this dark matter?”

  Darwin placed his cup in its saucer as he considered my question. “Yes, but I wouldn’t say ‘made out of.’ Dark matter is just that; it’s dark matter. We’re only partway to proving it even exists because of the gamma rays. If you had a dimension that existed entirely in a state of dark matter and nothing more, the aforementioned WIMPs would eventually collide and explode.”

  That didn’t make sense. The third was like a world of freezing black ice. It certainly hadn’t been exploding when I arrived. The fact that it was breaking apart when I left had less to do with dark matter and everything to do with me.

  Leaning against the front of his desk, he said, “There is a difference, of course, between cold and hot dark matter.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The specifics would only bore you.” He collected his glasses from the desk and began to clean them with the bottom of his T-shirt.

  “Please, I’m interested, but perhaps give it to me in layman’s terms.”

  Darwin fixed his retro glasses over his ears. “Well, the particles that make up cold dark matter travel at a speed far slower than the particles present in hot dark matter. Meaning cold dark matter has a lower energy that, along with its high mass content, would make it far more likely to form objects—if, of course, it were in the right environment to support it.”

  “Objects like structures?” I said, jumping in.

  “Yes and no. In theory, though it could form something tangible, it would only be a random collection of mass. To create a structure, you’d need an entity that could control and manipulate the particles, and that’s where we start getting into science-fiction territory.”

  I smiled, trying not to come across too eager as I asked, “And the hot dark matter?”

  “It possesses a far higher energy, making it more fluid in its nature.”

  It all made sense. In the third, the structures rose up out of the ground, cold dark matter manipulated by Zherneboh. And the hot dark matter, brought to the third by the scavengers, was kept in a liquid state by being cooled; it was used to fill the sea of souls to keep Zherneboh and his Purebloods in constant supply. And it was being churned clockwise to prevent the particles from colliding and smashing into one another, to stop them from obliterating themselves.

  Darwin’s eyes narrowed from behind his glasses, his analytical mind assessing my interest, and so I quickly tried to make it seem as though I were merely being polite. “Well, it sounds like a really fascinating subject matter.”

  “Quite.” He nodded. “Right, then. As we’re both up, we might as well finish our game of chess while we wait for breakfast.”

  “Thank you, but—” A gentle warmth prickled up my neck, and I tripped over myself to escape the ray from the rising sun shining in through the open terrace. One little sparkle, and I might as well be wearing a glowing sign that read “Alien.”

  Darwin caught my elbow just as I bumped into his laboratory table. I stooped down to collect the equipment I’d knocked onto the floor, and he joined me.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  Clonking down a pair of pliers, he asked, “Are you all right?”

  A handful of what appeared to be flat-ended syringes lay scattered behind my feet. As I gathered them, I was surprised at how heavy they were.

  “Careful!” Darwin said, clasping his hands around mine, trying to help me carry the weight.

  “What are they?” I asked. The tiny, button-size syringes should have been light as a feather, but instead they were like paperweights—with a shimmer I recognized. “Crystal,” I said without thinking.

  Darwin’s eyebrow arched. “And what do you know of crystals, Cessie?”

  I snapped back to attention. “Very little,” I lied.

  He stared at me, studying my face before finally saying, “I couldn’t help but notice you’re no longer wearing the one around your neck.”

  I stepped away from Darwin. “I’m sorry, I should probably go.”

  “You know, don’t you?” he said, reaching for me.

  Meeting his expectant expression, I murmured, “Know what?”

  “They are the key.” He dropped his hand to his side. “I saw you with my father’s business associate. Gabriel, I believe was his name. Did he give you the necklace you were wearing? Where is that crystal now, Cessie?” In the pub, when Darwin had shared his secret about the dimensions, he had said he was warning me because I reminded him of the person he lost, and I now knew that person to have been his sister, Rose. And while I believed he was trying to “save” me where he could not “save” her, as he claimed, the mention of Gabriel and my association with him now made me think that Darwin suspected I knew more than I was letting on. Perhaps he had thought if he confided his secret in me, I might respond in the same manner.

  I ignored his questions. “The key for what, Darwin?” How much did he really know and how much was he surmising?

  He didn’t hesitate to answer. “The doorways between dimensions.”

  Three years was clearly enough time for someone as smart as Darwin to have joined together a few more dots.

  “You’re still trying to find a crystal that possesses active elements?” I said. “So, what, you can open one of these doorways and walk into another world? You dislike this one so much you feel the need to put your life at risk to see if the grass is greener?”

  What was Darwin’s agenda?

  “Not at all. I’m a man of science. I’m not trying to put myself in so much as I’m trying to take something out.” Looking to the syringes, he continued on as though I might understand, as though I would give up the information he was starting to suspect I had in order to help him. “The crystals may not have contained enough active particles for study, but it didn’t mean they weren’t useful in another way. The material they’re made from is unlike anything on Earth. We don’t have an element on the periodic table to even begin to try to define it.” He opened a large rectangular box and placed the button syr
inges inside it, next to a handful of needles. “If I could get a sample…”

  My eyes fell back to the cover of the book that had been the catalyst for this entire conversation. “Dark matter?” I cut him off. “You think you can collect it from a doorway?” Worryingly, he was right. The rift to the third dimension dribbled with the stuff.

  “They’re there somewhere, Cessie. Extreme temperature readings have been coming out of Lucan for years—the kind of numbers that could only suggest dark matter. I’m still searching for the source.”

  “Say you’re right. Say you could extract and contain it using those.” I nodded my head to the box. “Why would you want to?”

  “Dark matter makes up a possible five-sixths of the universe. It was created at the time of the big bang. If ever there was anything that might reveal the mysteries of our universe, it’s dark matter. Scratch the surface, remember, to see what’s underneath. If we could study it, maybe then we’d understand.”

  “We’d know the meaning?” I breathed.

  Darwin nodded just once. “Mankind’s most profound question, answered once and for all by science.”

  I squeezed my lips. Maybe in the beginning, Darwin had been content purely dissecting data in a bid to answer the “how” regarding the origin of life. Maybe after the death of his siblings, he could no longer settle for the how; perhaps now he needed the why. I didn’t know what to say, and so I said the first thing that popped into my head. “And here I was thinking it was the number forty-two.”

  “Help me, Cessie,” Darwin implored. Though he was ignorant as to who I was and what I could do, his gut instinct that I held information that could forward his pursuit was spot-on.

  “I am sorry about your sister and your brother, Darwin. But the answer will mean nothing to you if you’re dead. Stay away from Lucan.”

  Darwin’s mounting protest was cut short by a shrill scream coming from the landing. He launched himself through his bedroom door and I followed. Jonah was picking himself up off the floor, and a plump woman dressed in an apron was desperately scrambling to get away.

  I scowled at my Vampire for being so careless. Why had he allowed himself to be seen? More to the point, why was he still inside the house?