House of Silence (Poisoned Houses Book 3)

by Lyn Forester

  Confused, his frown remains in place. “Yeah. I sign on with Connor, and he takes the second High-Council seat.”

  A knot forms in my throat. “And in this future, what are we?”

  His expression gentles, and he brushes the hair back from my forehead. “The same as now, of course.”

  “In this future, I’ll be Caitlyn Lonette, First Councilor,” I point out, the knot in my throat spreading to my chest, making it hard to breathe. “And Councilor Lonette can’t be seen having dalliances with a secretary, even the secretary of the second House.”

  He rears back, his hands falling away. “Are you saying we can’t be together?”

  “I’m saying are you sure you want to be a secretary?” My tongue tries to stick in my mouth, and I force out the next question. “Have you ever talked to Declan about the future?”

  “I—” Confused, his eyes narrow. “Are you saying I should plan to only be with Declan once we graduate because we’ll be the same station? That this”—he motions between us—”is just something to pass the time?”

  “No.” Panicking, I reach for him. “No, that’s not it at all.”

  “Why did you let me close if you just planned to break it off?” Expression stricken, he presses the pad to open the door before ducking out into the hall.

  “Felix, wait!” I rush after him, the pain in my chest making it hard to breathe. I press a hand over my heart, the ache becoming unbearable.

  He spins back, his angry gaze raking over me. “You really are a Lonette at the core, aren’t you?”

  Behind him, Nikola exits the stairs, and I blanch to have him witness this.

  If Felix would only calm down for a minute, to let me explain... My words aren’t forming right, getting jumbled on the way from my brain to my mouth.

  “Felix,” I push out, catching his sleeve. “Just calm dow—”

  “Don’t tell me to calm down!” He yanks out of my grasp, an expression I can’t identify on his face. “I’m tired of people telling me what to feel!”

  I gasp for breath, but air refuses to enter my lungs. I can’t let him leave like this. He doesn’t understand, but no more words form.

  Gray edges my vision, smearing the color from the world. But I welcome it, welcome the haze forming around Felix that lets me pretend he doesn’t turn to walk away.

  Decisions

  “Get out of the way!” Nikola commands as he pushes past Felix.

  Felix spins back around, lips parting in anger before his attention shifts past Nikola to me. His eyes widen, and he stumbles a step back in my direction. “Sprinkles?”

  Weakness shakes my legs, and I clutch at the front of my shirt, desperate to get it off, to remove any restriction that stops me from breathing.

  Nikola pushes my hands down, bends, then lifts me into his arms. The hall tilts dizzyingly, and nausea rolls in my stomach. I close my eyes, desperate to stop the spinning.

  “Open the door,” Nikola barks, then quieter to me, “Picture your light-ring. Remember how it flowed through you. Energy in every cell. Breathe it in.”

  A red circle of light blooms across my eyelids, humming with energy, with life. The energy wheels on my disc-bike were so beautiful. My lungs burn as I drag in a shaky breath. Then another.

  A hand grabs mine, flattening it against the scanner, and a quiet shush sounds.

  Nikola’s arms tighten as he strides forward, still murmuring softly. “Focus on how the wheel spins. Imagine it’s the blood in your veins, the air in your lungs, moving without restriction.”

  Another shuddering breath makes its way down my throat, this one easier.

  “What’s happening?” Fear laces Felix’s voice, along with a bitter edge of guilt.

  Ignoring him, Nikola shifts me, and a moment later, I settle onto the edge of something soft. A warm hand on my back pushes me forward. “That’s it. Your shirt’s loose, but do you need it off? What about your bra? Is it too tight?”

  “Are you seriously trying to undress her?” Felix demands, anger pushing aside his guilt.

  I reach out, clutching Nikola’s arm, and shake my head. “No. I’m fine. Thank you.”

  My eyes open, and I stare at the familiar patch of floor next to my bed. Nikola stands in front of me, a living barrier that blocks me from view.

  “Take your time.” He rubs soothing circles over my back.

  A gentle tug on my hair releases the band that held my braid in place, and his skilled fingers loosen my curls, easing the pressure on my skull I hadn’t even realized bothered me until it vanished.

  When his fingers move to my temples to massage tiny circles, I tip forward to lean against him. “This doesn’t make me trust you.”

  A beat of silence follows before he murmurs, “I know.”

  My hand tightens on his arm. “I don’t want people to see me like this.”

  “We’ll figure out how to stop the attacks from happening.” His fingers move down to the base of my skull, easing away more of the tension. “Do you want Felix to leave?”

  My breath catches, the panic flooding back.

  “Okay, Felix stays,” Nikola soothes, hands moving to my shoulders to squeeze the taut muscles. “He’s not going anywhere, are you, Felix?”

  A hard edge fills his voice, daring Felix to countermand him

  Instead, Felix shuffles closer. “I’m here, Sprinkles. I’m not leaving.”

  “I hate this,” I whisper, meaning so much more than my panic attack. All the secrets, the social expectation, the inability to just live, to be free, dig in with barbed hooks that will tear away pieces of me if I pull them free. But left in place, they’ll drag me down, bind me to a life in which I slowly suffocate.

  Nikola cups the back of my head, gently hugging me closer, and I don’t fight the intimacy, not when Nikola brought me back to myself. “What brought this on?”

  “Sparks—no, Caitlyn—was just letting me know my place,” Felix spits bitterly. “Looks like there’s only room for one secretary in her life, and you’re filling that place nicely, aren’t you?”

  I jerk away from Nikola, sudden anger blocking out my anxiety. “That’s not what I said.”

  “Close enough,” Felix scoffs, his lip curling. “Good enough to bed, but not to wed, right?”

  My hands curl into fists, my arms shaking with the effort it takes to restrain myself. I want to lash out, to hit Felix so that he might feel even an ounce of the pain he inflicts on me. But I’ve never been trained to fight, never thrown a punch in my entire life.

  As fast as the fire came, coolness washes over me, washing away the anger to leave stillness in its wake. “No, I asked you to think of what kind of future we can have. I asked you to see the whole of me instead of just your idolized Sparks.”

  His mouth opens, then snaps shut.

  My chin lifts, and I manage to stare down my nose at him despite his superior height. “Is this the depth of your love? To be thrown aside at the first hint of difficulty?” I shake my head, curls bouncing around my shoulders. “Words are easy, but action? You seem to be struggling.”

  Hurt and shock flash across Felix’s face. “Sparks—”

  “I’m not Sparks,” I cut him off quietly. “Sparks crashed and burned. Stop holding on to who you thought I was. You didn’t know me then, and I question if you know me now.”

  He swallows hard, his hands opening and closing at his sides in frustration. “How can I fix this?”

  I gesture toward the door. “Go cool your head and think seriously about what you see for your future, and whether that actually includes me.”

  “Of course, I want us to be together!” He takes a step forward, and Nikola steps into his path. Felix eyes the other man. “I guess you’re getting what you want in the end, huh?”

  Nikola remains calm. “Caitlyn has never chosen me for her partner. She chose you. Don’t cast your anger on me because you messed that up.”

  With a last, searching look over Nikolas’s shoulder, Felix turns and st
rides for the door.

  “You, too, Nikola,” I say.

  “As you wish, Caitlyn.” With a bow, he follows Felix out, the door shushing shut behind him.

  Left in the silence of my room, I wait for the panic to return, for the possibility to set in that Felix won’t return. Instead, hollowness fills my chest, a weightless relief to simply not feel for the moment.

  Calm, I pull my palm-port from my pocket, find Connor’s contact, and type out a message.

  Caitlyn: Are you still at the Library?

  Instead of responding through text, Connor calls, and I hesitate to answer. My thumb hovers over the decline button. I asked if he was still at the Library with the intent to go meet up with him and Garrett to work on our project, but I expected to have more time to prepare, to swing by the bathroom and make sure I’m presentable first.

  Before the call switches over to my message box, I force myself to hit accept, and his image comes to life on my screen, the walls of a self-study cube at the Library taking shape behind him.

  A smile spreads over my face, brittle at the edges despite my genuine happiness to see him. The emotion feels distant, one step removed from where I stand, but if I go to him, I’ll sync back up. This empty feeling won’t last in the presence of sweet, calm Connor.

  Unless Felix goes directly to him, tells him of our fight, and Connor turns his back on me.

  Cracks form in the wall around my emotions, and I force them down before they break through. “Hey, looks like you’re hiding. Want someone to hide with you?”

  Through the small screen, he searches my face for a moment before he draws in a slow breath. “Actually, I was thinking about escape. Want to get into some trouble?”

  Excitement flits by, and I try to catch the tail end of it but miss. “What about our assignment?”

  “We have time.” The background shifts as he moves, then ducks out of view before he pops back in. “Pretty sure I can ditch Garrett if I go now.”

  I head for my door. “Where do I meet you?”

  “Between the Entertainment Hall and the Year Three building.” With that, his image goes back to static, and I shove my palm-port into my pocket.

  The sense of excitement circles back, closer this time. We’re not allowed in the upperclassman’s buildings. Their science rooms mix more with halion technology, dangerous even when overseen by a teacher.

  As I reach for the handrail at the stairs, the silver band around my wrist catches my eye. It snugs up to the purple dat-band I’ve worn in one form or another for my entire life.

  The dat-bands hold a citizen’s entire life on it. Without one, people are destined for the streets, unable to work, denied access to even the most basic food and clothing offered by the government. They’re a right of birth and can only be revoked based on a serious offense. To be without a dat-band is to not be recognized as a person.

  The thinner, silver band next to it is a school provided one. It allows access into the buildings open to me as a first year still on academic probation. During emergencies, it emits uncomfortable shocks to let us know we need to return to our dormitory for further information. It also tracks where we go within the glass dome.

  At the main floor, I run into Archie, our RA for the dorms. He wears the same soft blue sweater over brown corduroy pants as he did the first time we met. His favorite combination of the available, color-coded uniforms the school offers its students. As a fourth year, soon he’ll graduate and be released back into the real world. House Vanderby sits eleventh in the High-Council, which is possibly how he can afford to be so jovial.

  There’s so much less pressure near the bottom.

  A pleasant smile spreads over his lips as our eyes meet, and I want to kick myself for catching his attention. Archie’s a nice guy, but chatty, and I’m not in the mood to talk right now.

  He stops in my path, flipping back his wavy hair. “Hey, Caitlyn, how are you settling back in?”

  “Just fine, thank you for asking.” As I move to edge past him, he sidesteps to stay in my path.

  “Do you have a minute?” He rubs the back of his neck, gaze not quite meeting mine. “I need to discuss something with you.”

  I shift from foot to foot before I force myself to stillness. It doesn’t look good to fidget in public. “Of course.”

  “If you will?” He motions toward the back of the room before passing me to lead the way.

  I’ve never actually visited him, only been aware of the location of his room on the first floor. Its door blends in with the paneling next to the snack room, an odd choice for a space meant to be inviting to students in need.

  We pass the iron table in the center of the room, large enough to hold fifteen people. The upholstered chairs are comfortable, but people rarely sit there, preferring the more private areas at the back of the room or choosing to study in the library. The little globe lights that dot the surface add light to the otherwise dim room.

  I peek into the snack room as we pass, half hopeful and half dreading to find Felix camped out there, raiding their supply of fruit. But, like the rest of the room, it lays empty.

  Archie stops in front of his door and presses his palm to the pad on the wall. The red light above the scanner turns green, the door swishing open, and he steps to one side to allow me to enter first.

  Tension fills my shoulders as I walk past, not liking the idea of locking myself in his room.

  I don’t know Archie, beyond our brief interactions at school. With tutors at home, I never had the chance to meet the other children of the elite before coming to APA, nor had I questioned my lack of knowledge about them beyond the dossiers I received before coming here.

  The file on Archie was riddled with exemplary scores in class and philanthropic endeavors with lower level schools that might otherwise struggle to provide supplies for all their students. Admirable, but does it speak to his true character?

  Archie’s room offers a pleasant seating area upon entry, with twin leather settees that face each other over a dark-wood coffee table. The dark-wood flooring from the outer area flows seamlessly into his room, with matching paneling along the bottom half of the walls and hunter green paint above. If not for the private door, this room could be just another extension of the public space on the other side.

  Behind the seating area, a wood and frosted glass frame blocks off what I assume is Archie’s private sleeping space.

  I walk to the small couch on the right and perch on the edge. “What did you need to talk about?”

  “Would you like some tea?” Archie motions to a sidebar off to one side that holds a delicate white teapot and cups. “It might not be up to the standards you’re used to, but I’m told it’s quite good.”

  “No, thank you.” I don’t want to waste time on niceties. Not when Connor is waiting for me.

  Archie walks over and pours himself a steaming cup, which makes me wonder what kind of hidden heater he has in the sideboard to keep the tea so warm. Grandma would shudder at the idea, but it sounds convenient to me.

  He smiles as he turns and walks over to sit opposite me. “First off, I want to say you are not in trouble, so don’t worry about your probation.”

  That makes me more tense. I hadn’t thought I was in trouble in the first place. As far as I’m aware, I’ve have done nothing wrong.

  I still. Is this about the time we all snuck into the kitchen to bake a cake and ended up creating a mess when we discovered none of us even knew how to make a cake?

  Right now, that feels like a lifetime ago. Like it happened to someone else. That’s when I received my first kiss from Declan, then from Felix. We’d been happy, four against the world, or at least against the school’s ban on desserts.

  The ache in my chest returns, spreading wider.

  Returning home to our separate Houses ruined that fragile camaraderie we built. Fractured us and broke us apart. Without Declan here, everything’s broken, our team short a member and left weak.

  “Caitlyn?�
�� Archie disrupts my thoughts, his brows pinched with concern. “Honest, you’re not in trouble.”

  I clear my expression, unsure what thoughts he read on my face. “What do you need to talk to me about?”

  He sets his teacup on the table between us and plucks at the crease that runs down the center of his corduroys. “Well, you see, someone reported seeing Felix coming out of your room this morning...”

  My stomach tightens, and I fight down nausea. Was that only this morning? I’d been so happy, but now I can’t remember what that felt like. “Is that a problem? I didn’t see anywhere in the rule book that we aren’t allowed to have partners while here.”

  Chagrined, he rubs the back of his neck. “That’s technically true. APA’s non-disclosure agreement protects its students from slander outside of the school. You’re free to spend time with whoever you like, however you like.”

  I press my hands against my thighs, wishing now I accepted the offer of tea just to have something to hold. “Then, I don’t see the problem.”

  “Well, you see, you’re rooming with the first-ever female halion allowed to attend APA. That concession came with certain limitations.”

  I frown. “Felix and Myrrine are not interested in each other in the slightest.”

  “That may be so, but...”

  My fingers dig into my thighs. “Bastian would crush Felix if he even looked at Myrrine with interest.”

  Archie sags forward, elbows on his thighs in a look of defeat. “Okay, I’m going to be super blunt.”

  Tired of subterfuge, I motion for him to continue.

  “Felix has a reputation, you know?” His gaze pleads with me to understand. “Halions don’t have things like birth control. At least, not the way humans do. If the first-ever female allowed to attend our school became pregnant with a halfbreed, it would ruin any alliances APA hoped to form with the colonies.”

  A fine tremor shakes my legs, and I press my heels to the floor. As I know nothing about Archie, he clearly knows nothing about Felix and Myrrine if this is his concern. He’s basing this on assumptions and rumors, and nothing else.