by Megan Curd
My stomach clenched. “Why?”
“He wants to make sure you’re not traumatized from today,” he said, his lips curling upward. “Which, by the way, you’re not. You spent the morning in your room reading and enjoying the luxuries that Riggs has so graciously provided you.”
“I see. And what am I supposed to say if he asks questions I don’t know the answers to?”
“Say you’re excited to start your courses and help fix our broken planet any way you can. That should placate him for now, but if not, just start sobbing and saying how you are overwhelmed by this place.” He winced as Xander was stitched him up. “By the way, he’ll probably bring up your parents.”
“I don’t know anything about my parents.”
“Precisely why he wants to discuss them. He does.”
I felt doused in ice water. I’d always wanted to know about my parents. Now that the possibility of gaining answers lay before me, I saw it as a double-edged sword. As long as I didn’t know, I could fashion myself a set of parents who loved me dearly and did everything they could for me. If I learned otherwise, though, there was no way to keep that image alive in my mind.
“What if they were bad people? What if it’s better off to not know?” I asked.
“Don’t sweat it,” Jaxon said, making a fist and flexing the muscles in his forearm. They rippled under his caramel skin and pulled at the fresh stitches. Xander pursed his lips in distaste. “There’s nothing that could beat my dad in the suck-factor.”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Because Riggs is my dad.”
JAXON PICKED AT the gauze that Xander had wrapped around the stitches. The edges were already frayed from his mindless tugging, and we’d only left his office five minutes earlier. I covered his hand with my own to stop him from ruining it completely. “If you don’t stop playing with it, you won’t have anything left.”
“Funny.” A wicked grin worked at the edges of his lips. “I’ve always heard that if you don’t stop playing with it, you’ll go blind.”
“Pervert.”
“Sixteen. Male. That shouldn’t come as a surprise.”
His long sinuous frame rested between two of the crenellations in the outer wall of the fountain in the atrium. Misty water danced in the sunlight and fell on his shoulders. The simple white shirt he wore was quickly becoming see-through. It rested tight against his chest, and I watched it rise and fall with every breath he took.
He gripped the stone pillars until the tips of his fingers were white. His smile was easy, as though he was enjoying a joke that only he was privy to, and his eyes gleamed from the rays of the setting sun. “Oh Pike, I’ve known you for less than forty-eight hours and I already know how to get under your skin.”
“No you don’t,” I lied.
So many things about him irritated me—the haughty way he held himself, his constant sarcasm and dry humor, and the way he held his lips to the side when he was winding up a new insult. Most of all, I was irritated by the fact that he was giving me a smug look while twirling a blonde dreadlock around his long finger…and I liked it. I liked him. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “Why do you call me Pike? Only Legs calls me that.”
“Why do you call me Jaxon? No one calls me that.”
He’d caught me off-guard. “I—well, your friends call you Jax.”
“And you’re saying you’re not my friend?” His eyes were clear and inquisitive. He raised an eyebrow, obviously waiting for my response.
“Ahem. Well, like you pointed out, I’ve only known you forty-eight hours. That’s hardly enough time to make friends.”
He pushed off the fountain and shook his head as he passed me. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You were at your old dome how long and didn’t have any friends?”
“That’s out of line,” I whispered, rooted to my spot, as I stared at his back. Was there any part of him that didn’t have ripped muscles? It seemed ridiculous that someone would have that much definition in their back. I shook my head. Avery, get a freaking grip. He’s a tool bag, whether you could wash your clothes on his abs or not.
Still, his words cut through me. Truth was, those very words had drifted through my mind on a daily basis when I lived in Dome Four. Why couldn’t I let down my walls long enough to make a friend besides Alice?
Somehow I formed a coherent sentence. “You don’t know me.”
“Let me be your friend, and I’ll get to know you.”
“Make me think that’s a good idea.”
He dipped his head in acknowledgement and walked toward the library corridor. “Fair enough.” He waved a hand to beckon me. “Smile at Riggs when he talks. Make him feel important. He wants you to be happy here. If you play your part, he’ll give you anything you want.”
I was moving double time to keep up with his long strides. He seemed so sure of himself, so in control of his destiny, even in this place, where he claimed we were imprisoned. I didn’t have a shred of doubt that what Jaxon wanted, Jaxon got. He owned his life. I so desperately wanted to own mine as well. Could he help me take control of it, or would he cause it to crash around my feet? For some reason, it felt like either option would be exhilarating if he were involved.
Exhilarating and dangerous.
The back of his shirt was soaked. The small “v” of muscles at the base of his spine flexed as he craned his neck to make sure I was still behind him. Why did that give me butterflies?
He turned and smiled. “Are you even listening to me? You’re way past your ogling allotment.”
“I’m not ogling you.”
“Trust me, I’ve experienced enough ogling to know it when I see it. If you’d prefer to ogle in peace, I’ll turn around again. There have been contests where my ass took first place in squeezability.”
“You must have been the only person in the running.”
He grinned mischievously. “And the only one to vote, but a win is still a win, right?” His smile faded as the cherry doors came into view. He swallowed and clenched his jaw, his face losing the joviality that moments before had sent thrills through my body. “Do what I told you, okay?”
“What if you’re feeding me to the wolves? You’re Riggs’s son.”
A split second passed before Jaxon towered over me with an intense gaze. He lifted his hand toward my face, but as he was about to touch my cheek, he lowered it back down. He leaned into me, his voice barely above a whisper. “If I wanted to feed you to the wolves, I would have left you in Dome Four to suffocate to death.”
“So you’d rather bring me somewhere that I’m forced to stay against my will?”
“Pike…” His steel blue eyes bored into mine.
People said you could see a person’s soul through their eyes. While I didn’t believe it, his expression stirred something within me. There was an intensity in those blue eyes that despite not matching his caramel skin seemed so perfectly in place. I closed my eyes to stop the tears already forming. I felt so alone. I needed a friend. I needed Alice, not Jaxon, but for some reason, I felt at home there beside him.
“Pike,” he repeated as he lifted my head to his. “Look, I’m not saying what I did was right, but I had to. And…and I wanted to see you after hearing Riggs talk about you for so long. I’m selfish to a fault. You’re better off not getting attached to me, or anyone else here, for that matter.”
All the same, he leaned in cautiously, as though daring me to argue with him. I stood stock-still, afraid that moving would shatter the moment into a thousand pieces. My heart thrummed in my ears, and I prayed that he couldn’t hear it. He was too close, too personal, too intense.
He was too much.
I took a step back. “And yet you leave me completely in the dark about everything. I have no clue how you know what you do or why you’re supposedly against your father. You say this place is bad, that your father is bad, but he’s been kind to me.”
“Wolf in sheep’s clothi
ng.”
I stared at him intently. “Are you a wolf as well?”
Rather than provide an answer, he closed the gap between us and his lips grazed my ear. I closed my eyes. Precious seconds ticked by, and neither of us moved. I waited, breathless, warring within myself against kissing him. No, I couldn’t.
Well…I could…and it would probably be magnificent.
Just once. Just to see what it’s like.
Before I could decide, his warm exhalation tickled the side of my face as he pulled away. I opened my eyes to see him gazing at me curiously, mouth slightly agape as his lips curled upwards.
“When you’re done here, go back to your room. I’ll come over after lights out and explain what I know. Then you can decide who the wolves are.”
Before I could respond, he sauntered into the library as though he held the world on a string.
“Mr. Riggs,” he said with a slight bow, “Miss Pike, as you requested.”
Riggs sat at the oak desk situated in front of the massive fireplace, reading old papers that appeared water-stained and burnt at the edges. The flames danced and crackled merrily behind him. I gazed at the desk, impressed by its ornate fleur-de-lis carvings around the edges and swirls on the legs. It seemed to be one piece of wood; the tree it came from must have been gigantic.
Books and manila folders with papers spilling out were piled high on the edge of the desk. A rectangular light with a flexible neck craned over the center of the workspace, muting the natural light of the fire. Calligraphy pens and inkwells were scattered amongst the mess. Riggs sat behind his personal fortress, fingers interlaced and a curious smile splayed across his face.
“Thank you, Jaxon,” Riggs said.
Jaxon flinched. Maybe that’s why he didn’t like me calling him by his full name. It reminded him of Riggs.
A boy stood silent beside Riggs, his hands behind his back. Riggs didn’t look his way when he spoke. “Asher, that will be all from you this evening. Perhaps you should go work in your study?”
He nodded excitedly. “Yes, sir. That’s an excellent idea. Goodnight, sir.”
“Goodnight, Asher.” Riggs’s eyes returned to the papers that lay in front of him. He looked bored. “And Jaxon, good night as well.”
Jaxon turned and left. I wanted to make sure he was okay, but my eyes remained on Riggs. The door snapped shut, and the glass rattled in the frame. I hoped he wouldn’t get in trouble for that later.
Riggs sighed. “Jaxon is trouble, Miss Pike. You would do well to remember that.” He sorted the waterlogged pages in front of him into two separate groups, all the while chewing on his lip. He tossed a hand in the air, sending the pages flying. “Ungrateful for what he’s been provided, irreverent of the opportunities placed in front of him, no way to make him understand what I’ve sacrificed.”
It didn’t sound as though I was invited to partake in the conversation, so I remained quiet. For some reason, it was okay when I mentally berated Jaxon, but listening to Riggs do it felt wrong, like someone insulting a book they’d never read or disregarding a painting they didn’t understand.
He looked up, a smile plastered on his face as usual. “I apologize, Miss Pike. This is none of your concern. I simply hope you find yourself in the company of some of our finer students soon.”
I nodded.
He stood and stretched.
I couldn’t help myself. “Sir, if I may be so bold, where is your…your mechanical arm? I assumed you wore it all the time.”
“Oh, that thing?” He gestured to the side of the desk, where the brass and copper creation I’d seen on his arm now leaned. A small piece of cardboard sat beneath it, catching oil as it dripped from one of the fingers. “That’s a prop, my dear.”
“A prop?”
“As the saying goes, ‘When in Rome, do as the Romans do.’ You lived in the steam-producing mecca of our world. It was hardly appropriate for me to come and parade our dome’s electronics around. You wouldn’t trust me, wouldn’t understand. But,” he said, raising a finger as though a stroke of brilliance had struck him, “if I came and looked like one of you, you were more likely to hear me out.”
Jaxon’s words rang in my ears. If you play your part, he’ll give you anything you want. With a big smile, I took a step toward the desk and spoke with as much sincerity as I could muster. “And you certainly managed to do that, Mr. Riggs.”
He smiled indulgently. He inclined his head and I saw his receding hairline. “Why thank you, Miss Pike.” He gestured to the plush armchair on my side of the desk. “Won’t you please sit? Now that you’re here, I’d love to discuss possibilities with you.”
Charisma oozed from him. It was easy to see where Jaxon got it. I reminded myself what Riggs was capable of by calling to mind images of Legs in Xander’s office—Jaxon having to wrestle him to the floor and leaving him passed out with limbs splayed all over the blood-ridden tile. I suppressed a shudder. Was there some way I could help him? I vowed to go visit him later to see if he’d come to.
I bowed my head as I took my seat. My mind worked overtime to stay proper and polite—legs crossed, happy face, hands folded in my lap. “What do you mean, possibilities?”
Riggs sat back down, rearranged the papers in front of him, and pushed a single blueprint to my side of the desk. A dome more massive than anything I could have imagined was laid out in white on the blue sheet of graph paper. Measurements and materials were listed on the left. He jabbed a finger proudly at the dome. “I want you to look at this little beauty.”
“It’s similar to what we have here, isn’t it?”
His eyes brightened. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. This dome would be the one and only. We would unite all domes and live together in one place. It would be the restart of our world as we know it.”
“That sounds like a great idea. The question is, why do you need me? Why do you need any of us that you have here?”
He laughed easily. “Oh, dear Avery.” He used my given name for the first time, and it sounded like sweet honey layered over shards of broken glass. “You will soon learn that I’m a simple man with a vision. I need workers, people with abilities such as yours, to bring this vision to fruition.”
“I doubt my ability to manipulate steam is worth much to you.”
“But that’s where you’re wrong. You’re capable of more than manipulating steam. Like I said before, I believe you can create the elements, and that, love, is exactly what I want you to do—create elements. Give my steel millers and alchemists the items they need. You’re very integral to my success.”
“Say this is true,” I said quietly, hoping my voice didn’t quiver. “Say I can produce elements. Why would I do that for you? I hardly decided to come here. Jaxon happened to show up on the night my home was ransacked by Polatzi and saved me—a convenient turn of events, if I may be so bold.”
His congenial mask slipped for a fraction of a second, and I saw the man Jaxon spoke of that lurked beneath the surface. His lips curled and his hands balled into fists before he composed himself. He took a deep breath and swallowed his anger.
I wished it were poison.
“Miss Pike,” he said, smooth and sickly sweet, “It was the only way I was able to attain you in a safe manner.”
“I don’t think Alice and I running through the streets, nearly having our lungs collapse, is a safe manner.”
His fist hit the desk and rattled the stack of books, causing them to tumble off to the side. He puffed his chest out and swayed in his chair like a cobra waiting to strike. “Miss Pike, you’re trying my patience. I understand this has been quite a tumultuous day, but it gives you no right to speak to me in that tone. I need you to understand the delicacy of my situation. There was no ill-intent in my bringing you here.”
I bowed my head, fear settling into the pit of my stomach. The conversation needed to be navigated to safer waters. “I apologize. It’s been a trying day. In my dome, too many people follow along without asking ques
tions. You pointed that out when we first spoke, remember?”
“Indeed I do,” he said, rubbing his scrubby chin. “Perhaps I’ve been a bit hard on you. Please forgive my insolence.”
Your insolence is probably terminal. I smiled and pulled the blueprint to my lap to examine it. I tried to burn every line, every note, into my brain so I could tell Jaxon and Sari. “When can we start my lessons so I can do my part to make this dome a reality?”
Riggs clapped his hands together excitedly. “That’s the spirit I was looking for!” He came around the desk and gripped me in a side-arm hug. “Would you like to begin now? We could try for an hour, then you could return to your dormitory for the evening to rest?”
“That sounds great,” I said, though in my heart I was scared to death of what he might be planning.
With one hand on the small of my back, he gestured to the couch in the corner of the library. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back in a moment.” He disappeared up the black spiral staircase hidden in the corner of the alcove. His footsteps echoed overhead and I waited, wondering how long he’d be gone.
“Psst! Avery!”
I jumped and saw Sari and Alice peeking out from the nearest row of books. Sari’s hair was spiky and pointed in all directions, as though she’d licked a light socket, especially with her wide eyes. Alice appeared thrilled to be sneaking around. “What are you two doing here?”
Sari waved her hands emphatically and pointed over her shoulder to the bookcase. On the topmost level, the last book had a tiny camera lens in the spine. Xander had been right. There were cameras in more places than we could imagine.
Alice lifted an encyclopedia and tossed it down the aisle. I heard the deep thud and watched the camera lens swivel in search of the sound. Sari took the opportunity to run to my side.
“I’ve only got seventy seconds before the camera comes back, so listen. I’ve been doing some digging, and I think I uncovered some stuff about Riggs.”
My eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
She pressed a finger to my lips. “He’s coming back. Meet me back at the room, and I’ll show you. Alice is going to hunt down a paper trail if she can. Xander—”