I, Android: A Different Model
Page 50
I found it nestled in my clothes, lifted it to my line of sight, and opened my eyes. There was no glow. Lucas was nowhere close by.
My hyperdrive is broken.
I’d meant it to sound funny in my head, wanting to cheer myself up. But for some reason as I slowly released the pendant to let it rest back against my chest, I only felt like crying more. I listened to the space around me. There was no snoring from down the hall. There was no warm presence of a massive dog or android polar bear. And again, there was no softly glowing blue EED assuring me of my guardian angel’s presence in the shadows.
But… I blinked and frowned. That wasn’t all that had changed. Something else was different, immediately so.
I looked down at the bed I was in, now noticing there was a new throw over the blankets on top of me. And it most definitely had not been there when I’d gone to sleep.
“Holy shit… the throw from Zero’s mansion,” I whispered, recognizing the light pastel colors, so beautifully woven together in a faded rainbow and softer than anything had any right to be. My fingers twitched as I reached my hand over the material. I stopped short, not quite touching it, wondering if it were really there. And if it were, then how?
I remembered I had wanted to steal the blanket, take it with me if I escaped my android captor. But as so frequently happened in my line of resistance fighting, things had gone pear shaped. The throw had been left behind, utterly unimportant in the scheme of things.
And yet here it was.
It had been draped evenly over me, tucked in at the edges around me with careful attention to detail. Almost, one might say, lovingly.
I muttered, “How the nine circles….” But I snapped my mouth shut. Because I should have known better than to ask.
It was there. That was that. I lowered my hand slowly to its surface and marveled at its incredible softness. It carried the vaguest hint of a familiar sophisticated cologne. It was the expensive designer cologne belonging to Malcolm Antares.
A rapping at the door drew my attention away from the throw. A familiar tall figure opened the door slowly and, when I nodded to grant him entrance, stepped inside.
Nick’s stark blue eyes regarded me in the dim light. “Sam,” he greeted. Then, with genuine concern, “You okay?” He came fully into the room and left the door open behind him, probably to make me feel more comfortable. “I’m told you’re having nightmares.”
I worked that out. Of course, I thought. Lex and Shawn had been in the hall right outside when I’d awoken. I’d probably made some sort of sound on my end, and maybe they’d even heard me talking to myself. But that they’d gone to Nicholas about the dreams was interesting.
“I’m okay Nick,” I told him. I was too tired to go into the dream and its bizarreness, and more importantly I absolutely did not want to tell him about the throw. I hoped he wouldn’t notice it. But that was probably an absurd hope to foster. Nicholas was like Zero; he noticed everything.
Nick crossed the room and gracefully sat down on the bed beside me. His eyes were on me, but his hand went straight for the throw. My breathing hitched when he slowly grasped it – but then I softly exhaled in relief as he pulled it higher on the bed so it more closely encircled me. “It’s a little cold in here,” he said with a gentle smile. “I’ll start you a fire?”
I hurriedly nodded, just thankful he hadn’t noticed the pretty blanket he’d adjusted hadn’t been there before. I began to relax, sitting back against the pillows behind me as he stood again and turned to make his way to the fireplace against the far wall. But once there, without looking back he said, “Though I imagine that new silk and cotton blend fleece on the bed is helping to stave off some of the chill.”
I froze, noting that my fingers had even been unconsciously rubbing the blanket between them. They stopped when he spoke. I watched Nick with wide eyes as he leaned down to adjust the controls on the antique gas fire place before he straightened to his full height and retrieved the electric lighter that rested on the mantle. As he turned it over in his hand, he looked back at me over his broad shoulder.
I was no match for that vivid, knowing gaze. And right now I couldn’t even look away from it. “You were hoping I wouldn’t notice,” he said.
“Maybe,” I replied hoarsely.
He didn’t miss a beat. “Maybe means yes,” he said plainly. “And yes means that it was someone we absolutely don’t want enjoying access to you.”
I said and did nothing. There was nothing to say or do.
“He’s getting pretty good with that transporter,” Nick concluded drily. “Don’t you think?” He watched me steadily as he ignited the lighter, the blue of his eyes frosting into something sharp and stark. Of course he knew it was Zero.
After a few beats, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I’d been through too much and was going to allow myself a little self pity. “I’m not going to worry about it right now, Nick.” I opened my eyes again to find him still watching me. “I have neither the patience nor the energy. And you’re wasting the battery in that lighter.”
He observed me for a few seconds more, intense and quiet. And then he gave me an unhurried smirk that rivaled any of Cole’s and turned to light the fire. He crouched down on the long, sculpted-strong legs that I’d always admired and after adjusting the controls once more, he placed the lighter to the fuel stream, igniting it.
And that was when I noticed the jacket he was wearing. It reflected the flames when they lit up and expanded to fill the hearth. I froze as my eyes slid to his right arm and the cuff of the leather jacket’s long sleeve.
It was exactly the same as the one in my dream.
Stay tuned for book two in the series, I, Android by Heather Killough-Walden. Coming soon.
(Cover art by Neytirix.Deviantart.com.)