Sparked (The Metal Bones Series Book 1) (20 page)

Chapter 27

My arm nearly jerked out of its socket as we took off. I tripped, my foot catching on a root, and I catapulted into Alec’s arms.

He caught me, said something I couldn’t make out, and I didn’t care. I molded myself to him as we raced through the trees, faster than I’ve ever been before. The wind slammed into my face and threatened to pull my skin apart. It locked me against his body, suctioning me to him.

Trees blurred my vision, and I felt as if we were bounding and leaping and vaulting through the air. The wind paralyzed me and the ground taunted me, flashing in and out of view. Branches popped out of nowhere, skimming my head and brushing my knees.

Alec grunted and came to a sharp stop in front of a towering pine, nearly losing me in his arms.

“W-W-Why’d we stop?” I stuttered, trying to figure out how to use my jaw again.

His gaze was focused upward on the massive tree, and I rotated my head up to see what he was looking at.

He swung me onto his back and my fingers could barely remember how to grip before he yelled, “Hold on.”

“Alec—”

He jumped on the bark and my leg slipped from around his waist. I cursed and my hands grappled for purchase on his chest. His fingers dug into the wood and up we sailed. Branches snagged my hair and my clothes, trying to yank me off. My palms grew slick against his shirt and I slipped down his back again.

“Vienna,” he choked.

I gritted my teeth and climbed up his back, locking my arms around his neck.

I shut my eyes and focused everything into holding on for dear life. My arm dug into his throat and my knee poked into his ribs but, screw it, I was hanging on . . . by a thread.

Under me, his every move was fluid and graceful, like a leopard making its way up a tree—stealthy, powerful, and most importantly silent. If it was night, I think his eyes would have gleamed. He maneuvered us onto a branch. I slid off his back and slumped against the trunk of the tree. My legs burned and my arms clamped up.

He helped me to my feet. “Higher.”

“You . . . must . . . be joking,” I huffed, trying to breathe.

He spun me around and pushed me up the branches, literally, with the palm of his hand hauling my butt up. My boots scratched against the tree, and my arms slipped, scraping on the bark. I sucked in a breath and looked down at my . . . at the . . .

That’s. A. Long. Way. Down.

The abyss.

Miles below my feet. “Holy—”

I was hurled up the next branch and collapsed against the tree. He scaled up after me, his muscles bulging under his turtleneck with each grip.

My silent predator.

He crouched and positioned me with my back against the tree. “We’ll mold ourselves into the bark.”

I was just happy he was moving my body for me.

“I’ll cover you,” he said.

I could only grunt as he moved my different body parts.

He raised his arms around me, locked his eyes with mine, and swallowed me in his black camouflage.

I squirmed as the bark bit into my back.

“Stop wiggling,” he said, and pressed his body against mine to hold it still.

I cocked an eyebrow. “Stop talking,” I whispered, “or else I’ll have to gag you.”

I felt his lips turn up against my cheek. We were now pressed against each other in every way, in every intimate way, points of contact all in the most sensitive of places.

The tree bark decided to give one last jab into my back and I arched to try and dislodge it.

He hissed in my ear. “Make one more move and I swear I’ll lose all control and take you right here and now on this branch.”

I froze and my heart raced, pounding against his own sprinting heart.

His voice was clipped. “Now stay still.”

I nodded, my fingers tightening around his shoulders.

His nostrils flared. “That’s still moving.”

I stilled.

His eyes flicked to the ground and he mouthed,
They’re here.

I peeked under his shoulder.

Oh, God.
My heart rammed against my chest.

And I watched.

They slithered through the shrubbery, like twilight creeping over the earth, like a shadow sliding over the ground, smooth and dark and empty.

They signaled to each other and when they turned, a ray of sun glinted off solid black metal.

My heart hammered in my ear.

The tip of a black hole, the tip of a gun.

They were right under us.

My breath came in gasps. My muscles twitched, my skin itched. They were so close. What if they saw us? Right above them? Suspended on a branch.

My fingers clawed into Alec’s shirt. Could they sense us? What if they were something like Kyle? What if they
felt
us? Where would we run? My eyes darted around the branches.

We had nowhere. We were sitting ducks. We were—

Alec’s mouth caught my whimper. His lips silenced my cries. He took it all. Absorbed it all. His lips caressed mine, like honey. My insides calmed. His sweet flames stroked and melted me. Soft and gentle. Brushing and caressing. My fingers loosened against his shirt. And I relaxed in his arms.

But like most things in life, his kisses and his warmth were short lived. Almost as soon as I relaxed against him, I felt it. I felt heat spreading over my hands, trailing along my arms, and spreading goose bumps along my skin.

“Someone,” I broke the kiss and murmured into Alec’s ear, “someone is watching us.”

Chapter 28

My eyes followed the heat coursing along my arms, leading me up into the skies, into the bright yellow shining eyes of a falcon.  

Charging. Straight. Toward. Us.

“A-Alec—”

The bird shrieked, filling the night.

Alec threw us off the branch, hurling us through the air. We spun. Up and down. Left and right. The sky beneath us. The sky above us. He crushed me against him as the cold air rushed through me, whipping my hair all over.

We were falling. Falling. Falling. I closed my eyes and dug my face in his turtleneck. My stomach rose into my throat. I was going to be—

We impacted, Alec’s feet hit the ground, and the force wrenched me from his body. I saw the leaves and dirt and ground flying toward my face. And there was nothing I could do. I was powerless, my body moving against its will, unable to do anything to stop. I was helpless.

Alec’s arms swung, capturing me and cocooning me back into his embrace, rolling the force of my fall into his body. He cradled me and took off, darting us through the trees, jumping from tree trunk to tree trunk.

“An eagle’s nest,” Alec yelled, over the thunder of the wind in my ears.  

Eagle?

I peeked over his shoulder and stared at the patch of twigs bundled together in the tree, three trees away from our hiding spot.

The eagle circled above, fanning the clouds. The bird had massive wings, twice my height, and a smooth curving golden beak and a white bald head.

It screamed and then plummeted, straight for us.

The small illusion of escape that the tree’s cover gave, that Alec’s kiss gave, vanished before my eyes.

The eagle was leading our enemies straight to us.

And there was nothing we could do.

Something changed in me at that moment. Something snapped.

A deep, dark stirring pooled and oozed out from me like a silent whisper, like black eyes in the night. I let it fill me. I let it drink me in.

I pushed into the eagle’s glorious yellow eyes.
We are not that different you and I.

It squawked and soared between the trees. I narrowed my eyes.

The darkness was filling me, burning through me, giving me strength.

The eagle’s talons stretched out to my face, its pointy claws clenched, anticipating the nearness of my skin.

And I had no sympathy. I felt nothing.

“Kill it,” I rumbled from my core.

We raced up the trunk of a tree, flipped—arching backward, the ground above my head, the sky above my feet—and descended, landing back on the dry leaf filled ground again.

I squeezed my eyes shut as the wind
whooshed
above us, as wings in desperate panic tried to stop. Another crack split the air. The eagle collided into the tree. I heard the rustle of feathers and felt the vibrations of the ground when the eagle dropped to our knees.

Dead.

It was over.

I shivered in Alec’s arms and felt the darkness recoil back into some deep place inside. Sucking out its power with it.

I breathed in and wound my fingers around Alec’s neck.

Shots rang through the air, whistling past our bodies, and my eyes popped open.

Alec jolted up and something sticky stung me, landing on my shoulder. Alec ran, and the sticky goo tore me back, ripping me from Alec’s arms.

I flew through the air.

Again.

I looked up into the black endless hole of a muzzle and watched the gooey substance bungee me into it. And I hit. My shoulder rammed into the tip of the gun and the air was knocked from my body.

My lungs hurt. My legs hurt. My body hurt.

My name roared off the trees, primal, deadly, it shook the branches, and twigs plunged to the floor.

Alec.

“Don’t,” I screamed at him, but my voice was so hoarse it came out as a whisper. His green eyes darkened, turning black, raging, and losing control.

“Alec!” I twisted against the gooey substance suspending me in the air. “Run,” I screamed again. “Run!”

And he ran. Toward me.

No.

My heart stopped in my throat.

“No!” I stared in horror.
The other way. The other way!
“Stop!”

He charged toward me and the slithering robots rushed in—like this was what they had been waiting for—all at once, flying at him. They poured on him like a pack of hyenas on a lion.

“He’ll kill you,” I snarled at the robot holding me. My fingers clawed at the gun in his arms. “He’ll rip you to pieces. He’ll—” My arm prickled and I stared down, watching a needle fall to the floor.

“You stuc-gug m-bee,” I said, words slurring.

“Vienna!” Alec bellowed, my name tumbling off the trees.

Run.
I met his eyes one last time.
Run.

Never
. His eyes glared with rage as he flung the robots off him.

They smashed into him, and he gutted them, cored them, ripped them to pieces, electrical wires flying in the air, sparks dancing around him . . . and his eyes . . . his eyes only on me, straight ahead.

The gun released and I toppled to the ground, collapsing like a broken marionette doll. I struggled to breathe, like a fish out of water gulping in air.

My eyes became heavy and drooped.

My name echoed against the trees.

Alec.

My eyes flitted open.

Alec, run.

Run. Run.

Ru . . .

My body relaxed, and my arms and legs eased into the dirt. A calm filled me.

Everything was calm. Everything was quiet. The noise was muted, as if it had never been. Everything was okay. Everything was going to be okay. I sighed and my eyes slid shut, drifting me into a wonderful, warm darkness.

It was cold.

And miserable. A dampness hung in the air and stuck to my skin. The smell of chemicals filled my nostrils.

I was afraid to open my eyes. Afraid to remember. Afraid of what I might see. I swallowed and my throat was dry and scratchy. My fingers clenched around stiff sheets and my head rolled onto a pillow.

A tinkling sound reverberated off cement walls, and my stomach clenched.  

My head pounded in my ears, demanding to be split in half. My shoulder throbbed against cool concrete.

“She’s waking up,” a girl whispered.

“She’ll only black out again,” a deeper voice said.

“No she won’t.”

“I did.”

“She’s not that bad.” A sniffle. “I’ve seen them bring in worse.”

“Shhh,” the male said.

Boots ricocheted along the floors. They stopped near us, turned, and continued on.

A rocking noise and rustling fabric filled my ears.

“Dean? Stop it.” She shook him. “They’re gone. Look at me Dean. Dean?” I heard the rustling of fabric. “Look. Look into my eyes. They. Are. Gone.” She repeated the last three words slowly, as if trying to convince even herself.

“They come back.” He softened. “They always come back. They’ll come until there’s nothing left to come for. The noises. The sounds. They—”

“Not now. Not here. Not with me.”

I heard him breathe into her shoulder and listened as her fingers trailed through his hair.

Heat spread along my back, burning against my skin.

“She’s awake.”

I stiffened.

“No one’s here,” she murmured, “you can open your eyes.”

I opened my eyes to two figures squatting in the corner. My eyes burned against the florescent lighting and I squinted.

The woman skewed her head. “How you feeling?”

I raised my arm to shield my eyes and groaned.

“That good?” She came to me and studied my arm, resting against my forehead. “They got you good, didn’t they? I’m surprised they didn’t scratch you up a little more. The guards said you were difficult to catch.”

She looked like she might have been beautiful, once. Her long, black, clotted hair looked like it used to be shiny and flowy, silky even. I stared down at my arm, now in her hand. The purple bruised circle of skin brought everything back—the needle, Alec, the gun.

I moaned and tried to get up. My body creaked and ached and cracked all over, making me feel like I had just been spun around in a tornado for two days. I collapsed back onto the bed, unable to move and practically unable to think.

My head drummed.

Pound-pound-pound. Pound-pound-pound.

“It could always be worse,” she said.

I didn’t even want to attempt a groan of response.

Pound-pound-pound. Pound-pound-pound.

I swallowed, and the dryness felt as if cotton had been stuffed down my throat.

The ceiling light flickered and cast a shadow over the man still huddled in the corner. The woman met my eyes and shook her head.

“I’m Paula.” She fidgeted. “And . . .” She looked over her shoulder, at the small, huddled man with empty gold-brown eyes. “That’s Dean.”

Pound-pound-pound.

“V-V-Vienna,” I rasped, and it felt like it took everything in me just to get that word out. I exhaled and sank into the lumpy mattress.

Thump-pound. Thump-pound. Thump-pound.

I closed my eyes.

“It’s the after-effects of the tranquilizer,” she said. “It takes about a day to get out of your system. So you’ll be safe”—I heard her walk over to Dean—“until then.” She settled next to Dean, murmuring soft words in his ear.

Thump-pound. Thump-pound. Thump-pound.

I pressed my lips together and wondered if she could actually see my head physically separating in half and if it looked as nasty as it felt.

“It’ll get better,” she said.

I wasn’t sure if her words were for me or him, for Dean.

The tinkling sound against the cement started again.

“Drop. Drop. Drip-Drop. Drop. Drop.” Dean repeated as if he memorized the exact cycle in which the droplets landed.

Thump-pound. Thump-pound. Thump-pound.

“There, there,” she soothed. “I’m with you. You’re safe now.”

“Safe,” he repeated, and I heard his slow rocking.

But he continued to repeat the melody of the droplets combating with the thrumming in my head.

“Safe,” she confirmed and it seemed like she rested his head on her shoulder.

Thump-pound. Thump-pound. Thump-pound.

The pattern of drip drops, the pounding in my head, and the rocking of the bed, all seemed to be beating the same sounds: In-time. You-will. Die-die. Will. Die.