iRobotronic

by Bella Street

  “I didn't think of that. Okay, scratch the sleepwalking theory.” He regarded her with a heavy-lidded gaze. “How did you sleep?”

  She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Not so great, I guess.”

  “Serves you right, you know.”

  “I just meant that your bed is lumpy.”

  “Uh huh.” He raised his brows. “Have you ever heard of the morning kiss tradition?”

  “I've heard of it,” she said slowly, “but it's frowned upon, especially considering the whole issue of morning breath.”

  “I don't care if you don't.”

  Seffy stood up. “Sorry, not this time. Now beat it, because I need a shower.”

  Trent crawled out from beneath the blankets and plowed his hands through his hair. She was sure he meant her to notice his manly muscles, but she kept her eyes trained well above the pectoral line of vision.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “So no kiss, huh? Then how about a nap with me later?”

  She sent him a slow smile. “You're on.”

  ***

  By the time evening rolled around, Seffy decided she'd blown the whole intruder thing out of proportion. Trent was probably right. She'd probably been sleepwalking. While she wasn't on any drugs that she knew of, her blood was extra wicked bad. That must account for something.

  Plus it was hard to imagine dark plots after passing a great day with Trent. They'd had breakfast, lunch and dinner together, and had passed a cozy afternoon together napping and talking in the Light Room. Seffy fought back pangs of guilt, thinking she shouldn't be getting over Gareth so easily. Well, maybe 'easily' wasn't the right word, considering the buckets of tears she'd cried, the hellish anguish she'd endured.

  Maybe the toll of exhaustion had been the final death knell.

  She thought about what Trent had said about not really being in love with Gareth. He was wrong, but she'd clearly muddled the whole romance side of the equation. Regardless, Gareth was in her soul. They'd gone through too much together for her to be able to dismiss him from from her life.

  The way he had dismissed her.

  Seffy closed her eyes as she changed into her pajamas. Nope, I'm not going to spoil my day with negative thoughts. She'd had too few good days to just blow them off that easily.

  After brushing her teeth, she snuggled down under her covers, breathing deeply of Trent's leftover scent. For the first time, she had hope that maybe her time here didn't have to be hellish. Maybe she would emerge from this with strengthened friendships and even some new ones. Maybe Fugure was an opportunity, not a prison sentence.

  Seffy closed her eyes, looking forward to a decent night's sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Seffy batted her hand at her face and encountered something cold and hard. The unfamiliar feeling drove sleepiness away. She opened her eyes in the dim room and stiffened in fear.

  A man in black straddled her on the bed, pressing the barrel of a gun to her cheek. His voice was a gravelly whisper. “I've already killed you once.”

  Shock and fright exploded within her. She opened her mouth to scream, but suddenly the man collapsed to one side, falling all the way off the bed. His gun fell into her lap. She grabbed it and looked across the room, sucking in lungfuls of air. Trent stood next to the bed, panting, holding what was left of the room chair.

  “Shoot him, Sef.”

  The man lurched to his feet and lunged for her. Too afraid to do anything else, she pointed and pulled the trigger, watching in horror as he staggered backward, his face covered in blood. The man crumpled to the ground and the room was suddenly silent.

  Trent dropped the chair and crawled onto the bed beside her, pulling her into his arms. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, dry-eyed, but beginning to shake. “Who was he?”

  Trent reached past her and switched on the lamp. Seffy peered over the edge of the bed, staring at the body with wide eyes. “He looks like one of those guys from L.A.” She turned to Trent. “He followed me! Just like the other one!” She scrambled from the bed, holding the gun on the body. “What if there are more?”

  Trent got up and searched the man's pockets. “No ID, just like before.”

  For the first time, Seffy noticed Trent was fully dressed. “How did this happen?”

  “I hadn't gone to bed yet and decided to check on you, hoping to see if you were awake. I found him on your bed and grabbed the closest thing.”

  She released a breath that broke on a sob. “Thank God you were here.”

  Trent eased the gun from her hands and stuffed it into the back of his waistband. “We have to think through what to do next.”

  Seffy stood, breathing hard, trying to hold back the tears. “It's like L.A. First me, then you, then the others.” She gasped, her hands pressed against her cheeks, her eyes wide with fear. “Oh no!”

  Trent made it to her door before she did. They flew down the empty hall, arriving at Lani's room first. Trent kicked the door open. A man stood over her bed, pointing a gun. Lani woke up, screamed, and rolled to the side. Trent pulled out his gun and fired at the man at the same moment he fired at Lani. The man went down, collapsing onto the floor in an undignified heap.

  “Lani! Are you okay?” Seffy rushed to her side while Trent ran from the room. She grabbed Lani and began looking her over for wounds.

  “I'm fine! What's happening? Who is that guy?”

  “I don't know. C'mon, let's get you out of here.” She helped Lani up and together they stumbled from the room. “We need to check on the others.”

  “Why?”

  “Because someone wants us all dead.”

  As they ran down the hall toward Gareth's room, Seffy saw the door open and Trent stagger out. He drooped against the wall, his head back and eyes closed.

  When he heard them coming, he looked over and shook his head, his eyes bleak. “Sef, they got here first.”

  No no no no. Releasing Lani, Seffy raced into Gareth's room and stopped. Addison sat on the floor holding Gareth's limp body in her arms, both of them covered in blood. When Addison turned and looked up at her, her face was streaked with blood and tears.

  She pinned her flooded green eyes on Seffy, her expression contorted with rage. “This is all your fault!”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Get out, get out, get out! You'll contaminate him!”

  Seffy staggered backward before Addison's wrath. She stared at Gareth, wondering if he was dead or alive, but too terrified to ask. A hand gripped hers and pulled at her.

  “Come on, let's give them some room.”

  She looked over to see Lani weeping and tugging at her hand. A commotion sounded behind them. Medical personnel arrived with a gurney and crowded into the room. Someone recognized Seffy.

  “What is she doing in here? Get her out of here now!”

  Gloved hands pulled and pushed at her, shoving her out into the hallway. Seffy lost her balance and pitched forward onto the floor.

  “Someone keep her away!”

  She turned over and got to her knees, only wanting to get back to Gareth. Guards appeared out of nowhere, advancing on her with guns. Lani sagged against the wall, crying into her hands.

  Suddenly Trent appeared, shoving past the guards. He reached down and helped Seffy up.

  “I'll take care of this,” he said to one of the uniformed men.

  “Are there more gunmen?” Seffy cried, trying to free herself from Trent's grip. “They could still be out there!”

  The guard looked at her with revulsion. “This area is secure. Go back to your room and stay there.”

  “Someone needs to look after Lani. She could be next!”

  The man looked over his shoulder where the brunette stood, wiping her face. “I'll make sure she accompanies the medical team.” He turned back to Seffy. “Everyone will be checked out for trauma.”

  Except me. His eyes said it as if it was audible. Seffy felt tears on her cheeks. “Is Gareth alive?”

&nb
sp; “That's none of your concern now. Just go back to your room.”

  “Of course it's my concern!” she screamed, livid beyond belief. “You can't keep me away from him!”

  Trent put his arms around her, trying to calm her.

  The guard smirked at him. “Do you have her under control or not?”

  Seffy lurched forward and spit in his face, wild with fury.

  The guard wiped his face with a shaking hand, his eyes like saucers. He grabbed his gun and squeezed the trigger. Suddenly his arm was pointing up and cement dust rained down from the ceiling.

  Trent released the guard's wrist and ripped the gun from his hands. “You better worry about controlling yourself.”

  Seffy shivered at the malevolence in Trent's voice. He took her arm, and continuing to point the gun at the guard, edged her backward away from the scene. Once they were around the corner, he nearly dragged her to his room.

  Once inside, he tossed the gun onto the bed and braced his hands on his thighs, his breathing out of control. “God, Seffy, he almost shot you.”

  Clenching and unclenching her fists, she stared at the door. “I wish he had.”

  Trent straightened. He touched her shoulder, looking more exhausted than she'd ever seen him.

  She stared at him, only dimly aware of tears running down her face. “Is he dead?”

  He swallowed and his eyes were sad. “I don't know, sweetheart.”

  “They're not going to let me see him, are they?”

  He slid his arm around her and pressed his cheek to her hair. “Don't look at it like that. You're going to stay here for a while because you want him to have every chance to make it. And just in case your blood has some kind of anomaly, you're going to make sure nothing puts him at risk, okay?”

  Seffy pressed her chin onto Trent's shoulder, staring at the door with a hardening expression. “For now.”

  ***

  Trent didn't know what to do first. Call Olga for any information? Remove the dead man's body from Seffy's room? Or deal with Seffy? She sat on the couch, her knees under her chin, her eyes wide like she was catatonic.

  He decided to call Olga first since it wouldn't require leaving Seffy. After listening to the nurse's phone ring at least ten times, finally a machine picked up. Trent asked her to call with information as soon as possible. He turned to Seffy and crouched down in front of her.

  “Sef, let's get you to your room and get you some clothes. You'll feel better if you change.”

  She stared straight ahead. “I'll never feel better.”

  Her monotone voice made him shudder. It made their jokes about robots suddenly seem sinister. “I'd go get you some clothes myself, but I don't want to leave you here alone.”

  “It doesn't matter.”

  He stood and took her hand, pulling her up next to him. She didn't resist, which was a mercy and depressing at the same time. Trent led her through the passageway, his gun at the ready. Pushing open the door, he scanned the room for anything suspicious. The dead man's body still lay crumpled on the floor near the bed.

  Trent flipped on the light switch. He turned to Seffy and gently pushed her against the wall of the passageway. “Stay here for just a minute and I'll get you some clothes.”

  She stared at him with unseeing eyes. He released her and hurried into her room. After grabbing the first garments he saw, he returned to the passageway. Once he had her back in his room, she took the clothes into the bathroom. Five minutes later, she walked out past him and sat on the couch. As she put on her shoes, Trent grabbed a bottle of orange juice from the refrigerator and handed it to her.

  Seffy shook her head.

  “You need to drink it.”

  She accepted the bottle but laid it on the couch cushions. Trent sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulder. She sat stiffly, but he felt the tremors rippling through her body. Resting his forehead against her temple, he closed his eyes, knowing how tightly wound she was—how close she was to the snapping point.

  And no matter how much he wanted to comfort her, there was a limit. Because he wasn't Gareth.

  The phone rang, making her jump. Trent got up and answered it, his stomach twisting when he heard Olga's voice. He looked at Seffy and caught her staring at him, trying to discern the nurse's words from his expression. After a moment, he hung up.

  “Gareth is alive,” he said slowly. “But he's critical. They're doing everything they can.” Trent watched her face, concerned at her pallor. He decided not to mention Olga's last words. He won't make it unless there's a miracle.

  Seffy's lips trembled. “If he dies, I die.”

  She stood up suddenly and walked over to him. Before Trent could figure out her intentions, she pulled the extra gun from the front of his waistband.

  “But first, I take out Eugene, Fiona, and most of all...Fenn.”

  ***

  Fenn watched his sweat fall and bead up on the toilet seat. He swallowed convulsively as another wave of nausea shook his frame. Breathing through his mouth, he stared at the object at the bottom of the clear water in the bowl, wondering if going through this was worth it. But it was. Everything—everything that meant anything—depended on it.

  He had to do this cold turkey—again. The methadone made him feel high, made him want the needle more, so he spit it out. Something he hid from Fiona.

  But today he was found out.

  “I don't know why you won't cooperate, Fenn. You know I'm just trying to help you.” She sighed. “Now we're going to have to do this the hard way.”

  He closed his eyes against her honeyed words.

  Fiona.

  He suspected he'd made a wrong turn with her somewhere along the line. Finding a girlfriend during a moment of despair didn't exactly promote a healthy relationship. But she was so beautiful. He remembered the first moment he saw her. She was delicate, like filigree, like fool's gold sparkling at the bottom of a glistening brook.

  There was a word the Irish used for a girl like her.

  Fey.

  Magical.

  But there were times she was more witch than fairy.

  He closed his eyes when he felt the prick. When he opened them, he saw her sharp gaze, a view that faded as the drug flooded his system, bringing a rush so ecstatic, so overwhelming, all his reservations about her vanished.

  Fiona removed the needle and patted his arm.

  Then, like pixie dust at gloaming time, she was gone.

  Look for Book Four of Apocalypse Babes, Kumbaya Much, coming soon.