Pyxis: Book Three of The Stardust Series

by Autumn Reed

  We leisurely enjoyed the desserts before Jackson paid the check. I didn’t want to think about how much it cost, but fortunately, it was expensed to Zenith. After a stroll along the wharf, we returned to the hotel. Although it was fairly late when we got back to the room, it wasn’t quite time for bed. Ethan and Liam settled on a sports talk show while Knox and Jackson disappeared into the other bedroom to discuss Zenith business, no doubt.

  After about fifteen minutes of mindless football discussion, I stood up from the couch to head into the bedroom I was sharing with Knox.

  Liam caught my hand. “Are you bored? We can change the channel.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’m going to get ready for bed, and there’s a TV in there if I decide to watch something else.”

  “Okay, then.” Liam turned my hand to his mouth and kissed my fingertips, causing my skin to tingle. “Goodnight, gorgeous,” he said with a surprisingly tender smile.

  “Goodnight. Night, Ethan,” I called over my shoulder, since Ethan barely glanced my way when I got up to leave. I wondered for a moment if he was still annoyed with me for bringing up the self-defense lesson but decided not to worry about it. If he was, he needed to get over it.

  After finishing in the bathroom and changing into my pajamas—pink and white plaid flannel bottoms with a pink long-sleeve T-shirt—I peered at the bed with equal parts trepidation and excitement. Considering how big the bed was, I wasn’t anticipating a repeat of my most recent sleepover with Chase, even without a pillow wall. But, I would still be sleeping a mere foot or two away from Knox, sharing the same air . . . and hopefully not drooling.

  Selecting the side of the bed farthest away from the door, I turned on the bedside lamp and switched off the rest of the lights. I pulled back the covers and slipped into the cool sheets; not wanting Knox to walk in and think I was sleeping, I adjusted the extra pillows and leaned against the headboard. When I heard noises outside the door, I hastily picked up my book and opened it to a random page.

  After a few brisk knocks, the door inched open and Knox’s voice asked, “May I come in?”

  “Of course.”

  He entered the room and shut the door behind him. “Had enough of ESPN, I take it,” he said with a grin as he perched on the edge of the bed.

  Affecting a shocked voice, I responded, “Who, me? I can never get enough statistics and game recaps. You must be thinking of someone else.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” he said with a laugh. “I must have been thinking of the other girl who lives with me and falls asleep anytime ESPN is on.”

  “I do not fall asleep,” I argued playfully, dropping my book and shifting closer to Knox as I grabbed the pillow next to me and threw it at his face.

  Knox caught it easily and held it up, threatening to retaliate. “Really, sweetheart? That’s how you’re going to play it?” his deep voice growled at me.

  I squealed and scooted back as I snagged another pillow, gripping it tightly in front of me. Knox slowly inched closer to me on his knees, an evil grin taking over his features. Just as he swung his pillow toward my head, I ducked and frantically aimed mine at his side. After a series of swings, some misses and some hits, Knox managed to steal my pillow while simultaneously pressing me down into the mattress.

  Out of breath, I peered up at him hovering above me. Unable to maintain eye contact with his face so near, I let my eyes skim over his nose and down to the scruff surrounding his mouth and over his jaw. I studied the short hairs, wondering what they felt like. Would they be rough on my skin or deceptively silky?

  Shifting my gaze back to his, I found him watching me closely. “Do you surrender?” he asked in a quiet voice.

  Unable to speak, I finally met his eyes and nodded. He carefully shifted back to the other side of the bed and walked to the closet. Rummaging through his duffel bag, Knox pulled out a couple of items and then headed to the bathroom. “I’ll only be a few minutes. I don’t want to keep you up.”

  Hoping to keep the mood light, I teased, “Don’t worry about me. I get to sleep in.”

  He groaned. “Thanks for rubbing it in.”

  After placing my book on the nightstand, I straightened the covers and slid down in the bed. I turned on my side away from the light and unconsciously watched the blinking of the smoke detector while trying to remain calm about Knox’s return.

  When he emerged from the bathroom in a pair of sweatpants, I tried not to stare . . . and failed, miserably. Despite the fact that we lived together, I almost never got to see him shirtless, and boy was it a sight. All of the guys had fantastic bodies, but Knox’s was sheer perfection. His wide shoulders and sculpted biceps made him appear strong without being excessively muscular. Every inch of exposed skin looked like it could have been carved from stone and was probably almost as solid. My hands itched to explore every peak and valley of his chiseled abs and hipbones.

  Forcing myself to look away while he climbed in bed, I lifted my hair off the back of my neck briefly to cool off. When I finally felt like I could react to him again without embarrassing myself, I glanced Knox’s way. His back was to me as he messed with his phone, and I noticed the tattoo over his left shoulder.

  Although I had glimpsed it in the past, I’d never gotten a close enough look to distinguish the shape. Now, with the light shining on the tattoo, I made out the animal with the head and wings of an eagle and body of a lion. It was inked in black and drawn with almost tribal elements, making the design fierce but also artistic.

  “Your tattoo. It’s a griffin, right?”

  Knox laid his phone on the nightstand, then rolled over to face me. “Yes, although I’m surprised you recognized it. Most people think it’s a dragon or a strange bird.”

  “Well, I have to admit this is the first time I’ve seen it well enough to figure it out. I love the artwork, but why a griffin?”

  Knox stretched before settling more comfortably under the covers. His usually gravelly voice seemed softer, almost like he was whispering a secret. “There is a lot of mythology surrounding the griffin, but it’s generally considered to be a symbol of strength and courage, a protector. When I got the tattoo, it was during a time in my life when I found myself longing to embody those particular characteristics; thus, the griffin.”

  I smiled at Knox’s explanation. He had just given away more about himself in those few sentences than he had in all the months I’d known him.

  “Well, it must have worked, because I don’t know anyone who is a better fit for that description than you, especially the protector part.”

  Even in the relative darkness, I could make out his smirk. “I’m choosing to take that as a compliment even though I know you don’t always appreciate my protective interference.”

  Laughing quietly, I said, “It was a compliment, and let’s leave it at that.”

  “How about you? Would you ever get a tattoo?”

  “Honestly, I haven’t given it much thought, but I’m open to the idea. I would definitely want it to be something meaningful, like yours but much smaller of course.”

  “Hmmm,” he said thoughtfully. Reaching over the expanse of space between us, Knox encircled my wrist with his hand. Gently rubbing the sensitive skin on the inside of my wrist with his thumb, he whispered, “I think right here would be the perfect spot for it.”

  Breathless, I whispered back, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Hidden Messages

  I clutched at the material beneath me and slowly opened my eyes to the startling realization that I was lying in an extremely large nest. How the heck did I get here? I thought. I hobbled to the edge and peered over, gulping when I realized just how far I was from the ground.

  I briefly wondered how I would get down but didn’t have long to dwell on it. My attention was immediately drawn by the smell of smoke and a crackle of twigs and leaves. Only a few tree limbs away, a branch was burning and the flames were catching. The fire crept toward the nest, and I was beginning to panic. Unable to breathe, tear
s streamed down my face as I screamed for someone, anyone, to help me.

  Suddenly, a large griffin appeared and perched on the nest. His emerald eyes looked remarkably familiar, and he motioned for me to climb on his back. I clutched his soft fur between my hands, and the griffin flapped his large wings effortlessly before taking flight. When he launched us smoothly into the clear blue sky, a loud sound erupted from his beak.

  I buried my head under the pillow in a vain attempt to ignore my alarm. Finally, I grabbed my phone off the nightstand to silence it. How is it already eight?

  Either Knox was even stealthier than I gave him credit for, or I was more tired than I realized, because I didn’t remember waking earlier when he showered and left. Since the bank didn’t open until nine, I figured I may as well enjoy a day of sleeping in. And, clearly, I needed it.

  Shaking my head at the bizarre dream, I pushed myself from the bed, throwing open the curtains and observing the city. Fortunately, the nightmares didn’t happen as often as they used to, but I still dreaded them. At least this time I had been rescued by a griffin; the thought comforted me and made me smile.

  I took a shower, hoping to clear my mind, but the lingering smell of Knox’s body soap only muddled my thoughts. Every time I closed my eyes and inhaled, Knox’s muscular upper body instantly sprang to mind. I imagined him standing there, his dirty-blond hair wet and slicked back from his forehead, water beading down the hard lines of his face and chest. First the griffin dream, and now this, I thought. My imagination was already in overdrive after one night in the same bed as Knox, and we still had three more together.

  After getting dressed and stopping for breakfast at a nearby café, I was finally ready to put my plan into action. I clutched my purse to my side, anxious about the substantial sum of cash I was carrying. I still had yet to open a bank account in Santa Cruz and liked the idea of keeping at least some of my earnings in a separate, secure location. I knew I would breathe a sigh of relief once this chunk of cash was deposited in the safe deposit box.

  I walked several blocks to the Asian Art Museum before entering and purchasing my admission. Hopefully there would be time to enjoy the exhibits later, but for now, the museum served my purposes. After inserting coins into the day-use locker, I placed my cell phone and rain jacket inside and ensured it was secure.

  Although I would still glance over my shoulder to confirm none of the guys were following me, at least this way I knew they couldn’t use my cell phone to track me to the bank. Even if they decided to check my location, it wouldn’t look suspicious that I was at the museum for several hours.

  Okay. I took a deep breath and double-checked that I had my key to box 738 before exiting the museum. The route to the bank was fairly straightforward, but I was too distracted to truly enjoy the sights and sounds of San Francisco. Even without knowing what the safe deposit box contained, my pulse thrummed in anticipation while I reminded myself not to get my hopes up.

  Reaching 65 Post Street, I paused on the sidewalk as I was transported back to my birthday and heard my dad’s voice clearly in my mind. If anything happens to me, promise me you will run away and take care of yourself. Don’t worry about me, and don’t go to the police. When you think it’s safe, go to the First National Bank on Post Street in San Francisco. When I agreed to his warning, I never expected to be standing here, anxiously seeking a connection with him months after his disappearance.

  Inside the bank, I was asked to present my key and ID for verification. Outwardly, I stayed calm, but I almost panicked when the bank employee vanished for several long minutes with my (still fake) ID. Finally, I was ushered down a hallway to the vault, and he laid a large metal box on the counter in front of me.

  Once alone, I stared at the box for several moments, still doubting that the long-awaited moment had arrived. Hopefully I wasn’t about to open my own version of Pandora’s Box. Chill out, Haley; it’s not like the box is going to hold secret codes to nuclear warheads or a vial with a deadly virus.

  I opened the box with shaking hands and sifted through the documents within, placing each item on the counter as I went. There was a birth certificate for Kira Taylor. Guess that’s me, I thought. Below that was a stack of cash, an insurance policy for the Coleville house, and a few other documents. Interestingly enough, there was a set of two IDs and social security cards for me and my dad with names that I couldn’t recall us ever using. Finally, at the bottom, I found a basic TracFone cell phone and charger.

  I returned the documents to the box, adding in the cash I had brought with me, while I waited for the phone to power on. I honestly didn’t expect there to be any messages but figured my dad must have left the phone for a reason. To my surprise, the screen indicated that there were two unread text messages. I held my breath and tapped the screen.

  Unknown Number: I’m okay. Don’t look for me and stay safe. I love you.

  The timestamp was dated September twenty-first, just a few days after the fire. I stared at the screen for what felt like minutes, happy that he’d reached out to me but also wishing I’d seen his message sooner.

  The next one was almost identical and dated about a month ago, not long after Knox and Ethan returned from El Segundo. Relief washed over me as a barrage of questions ran through my mind. Was Dad waiting for a response? Could I still reach him at the number he sent the messages from? Would he even want me to? I decided it was worth a shot and tapped out a short text.

  A few moments later, the phone vibrated. “Message not delivered.” I tried responding separately to the first message, hoping for a different result, with no luck. Not surprising, but still disappointing; apparently I’d have to wait for him to contact me again. Knowing my dad, he had sent the messages from disposable phones before ditching them.

  I silenced the phone and shoved it deep in the interior pocket of my purse. Please let me see his next text in time to respond, I thought, knowing it was going to be difficult to check the phone as often as I wanted with the guys around. As much as I trusted them, I couldn’t jeopardize my dad’s safety and decided that the phone needed to stay a secret. More importantly, I realized that their continued involvement was as much a risk to them as it was to him.

  At the last minute, I decided to leave my e-mail address. I had no idea if Dad would risk coming to the bank, but if he did, he’d at least have another way to contact me. After locking the box, I lingered for a moment and then exited the bank feeling a sense of accomplishment.

  Since it was still mid-morning, I strolled back to the Asian Art Museum. Now that I was no longer on a mission, I was able to appreciate the beauty of the building. The large stone facade was imposing and immense, and I surmised the interior had to be pretty large to house one of the most “comprehensive Asian art collections in the world,” as the brochure advertised.

  My brief visit earlier had been necessarily limited to the ticket counter and coat check, and I quickly immersed myself in the extensive collection. I passed a few school tours and other individuals, but mostly the museum was quiet, my steps echoing on the tiled floors. The array of art and artifacts was astounding—Samurai armor, porcelain, textiles, and jade carvings, to name a few.

  After a delicious lunch and a small purchase from the gift store for Theo, I wandered around the city with no particular destination in mind, stopping whenever something caught my eye. My strategy was somewhat whimsical, but it gave me a decadent sense of indulgence and freedom. Just people-watching and taking in all the new scenery was exciting, from the grand architecture of the Supreme Court of California and the War Memorial Opera House to the green spaces that appeared at random between the buildings and homes. I snapped pictures with my phone along the way, wishing Theo was with me. I was sure he’d have interesting facts to offer, stories to tell, his usual unique perspective to share.

  As much as I was enjoying San Francisco, questions about my future kept creeping in. For months, I had been consumed with my goal of accessing the safe deposit box. Now that I h
ad completed my mission, I was feeling unsure, aimless even. There was no guide to follow, no instructions to tell me what to do next.

  Was my future with Knox, Jackson, Ethan, Liam, Chase, and Theo? All along, I kept telling myself that my stay in Santa Cruz was temporary, but the thought of leaving them filled me with dread. Actually, the feeling was more how I imagined a full-blown panic attack.

  Having turned back to walk in the direction of the hotel, I contemplated the advantages and disadvantages of my current situation. I couldn’t see a reason I had to leave them or Santa Cruz, and I certainly didn’t want to. As I passed the “Painted Ladies,” a row of famous Victorian houses painted in beautiful colors, my phone dinged, indicating a new message.

  Theo texted, “I’m free!” followed by a shot of himself mid-air with his arms raised and a huge grin on his face.

  I know the feeling. I laughed aloud, delighted by the picture and relieved for Theo to have completed his finals. Apart from this text, I hadn’t heard from any of the guys all day. I had to give Jackson credit for keeping his promise that they would back off.

  I responded, “Way to go! Wish you were here,” accompanied by a picture of the beautiful facade of the Asian Art Museum, followed by a shot of the colorful Victorian row homes San Francisco was known for.

  Theo: Ugh, I’m so jealous!

  Theo: Did you know the Painted Ladies were featured on the opening credits of the TV show, Full House?

  Me: I knew they looked familiar! Where’s my tour guide when I need him?

  Theo: Trust me, if I could have skipped my finals, I would have.

  I wasn’t sure how far I had walked by the time I returned to the hotel, but my feet were dragging, and I was eager to sit and relax for a while. Since I still had tomorrow and Saturday to explore, I didn’t feel pressured to cram in attractions. Besides, I had accomplished my goal of visiting the safe deposit box; the rest of my day was merely a bonus.