Blood Bound

Chapter 1

More than once, Metis had asked Nona and Carol if they were doing the right thing by keeping Apex from the world. If what they had was so very precious, how could they keep it to themselves?

The server came out of nowhere, startling her. "Anything else?" he asked. She jumped. He was very good-looking. Suddenly she was not in such a hurry to get home.

"Chardonnay?" she asked, tentatively.

"Absolutely. Can I just see some ID real quick?" he asked, touching his BodyTech bracelet and holding his wrist out to scan hers.

She had no idea what profile Tiller had put on the bracelet this time. He had a rotating crop of fake identities for each of them, and Metis was supposed to look it over before leaving the house, in case she was stopped at a Checkpoint. But she hadn't. The server's BodyTech buzzed, rejecting her. He furrowed his brow and looked at it. "Weird, it's not working." Tiller's makeshift coding definitely wasn't perfect.

"I'll just take the check," Metis said quickly, her cheeks burning.

The cute server turned and she felt like dying right then and there. Then he spun back around. "I'm 22," he said. "Are you old enough to have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

Her stomach jumped, and she felt herself smile. What was happening?

"I'm 21," she lied, realizing that wasn't an answer.

"That's old enough, if you ask me," he replied.

Her mind flashed first to Nona, then to a million romantic comedies she watched with her mothers. She knew the formula. What, exactly, would she say when he said to her, "So, tell me about yourself?"

She imagined herself, in a black dress, sipping a glass of red wine, then smiling coyly and saying, "Well, I was raised by two lesbians—a scientist and a school teacher—who my mother barely knew, but left me with when I was a baby. Carol and Nona—they're the lesbians—and I live on a farm with Carol's brother, Tiller. Personally, I have no friends. This BodyTech profile is fake. These bracelets belonged to dead people. Which is fine, because legally, I'm dead, too. I've never gone to school, I don't have a driver's license, and I've never had a job. Oh, why? Why, you ask? Because I'm an Apex. Actually, we all are. And my mother and surrogate moms are so afraid of what would happen if anyone found out, that they locked me away on a farm in upstate New York to make sure The Center will never, ever find me, or any of us. So, you want to come over next weekend? Meet the moms?"

Unreal. Impossible. She would never be able to say any of that, and therefore would have basically nothing to say to this man. "I can't tomorrow," she replied. Then, out of nowhere, she heard herself say, "But maybe some other time?"

He smiled at her. "I'll get you that Chardonnay."

He brought her the glass and her bill. She downed the wine and then paid her bill, scrawling her phone number—the house number, an old-fashioned landline and the only one she knew—beneath her name. She prayed he'd never use it. She prayed when he called it would be one of the times when the phone was broken, and Tiller hadn't gotten around to fixing it. She prayed Nona would never find out she'd given that number, only meant for Charlotte Murrow, to a complete stranger.

Selene

Selene followed the nurse to a dingy room. It was her first time, but not her last.

She looked at each person as she passed them, walking down the center of the room, each soul in a sturdy metal pod just like the one the nurse was leading her to. No one looked at her. Each patient was connected to an IV and sensor, which was attached to a screen tracking a personalized pill as its contents made its way through their bodies. Each was engrossed in either their PillTech or their BodyTech – reading, watching movies. No one spoke. They focused on their own pastimes.