"Are we going to talk about this, or are you going to keep ignoring and avoiding me?"
I stiffen as Chris closes the distance between us, sidling right next to me. His gaze is powerful, scanning my profile, but I refused to look up. He'll see right through me.
We're home, in my main lab. It's the only place where things make sense. The only place I have peace.
It's massive, hewn into a sphere like cavern and full of technology. Flat panes of glass planes separate the lab into two main spaces. We stand in the first, where hazmat gear and sterilization aren't necessary.
Heavy grey tiles sit on the floor, floating above a concrete floor. They glow with blue and green fiber optics. Screens line the walls from floor to ceiling, centering around two tables positioned to face one another featuring raised touchscreens. In the center is a theater with a hologram projector and sound system.
"I'm not sure what you're talking about."
It's been three days since the incident at the Hold and we're all still reeling. Ryker's on edge, losing his temper at everything little thing and the silence at the Attic is deafening as we all withdraw into ourselves. Catrina, too, is on edge.
The evidence of her rage marks my skin. Dark bruises line my back and the upper parts of my arms. It takes all I have not to shift to straighten the collar of my shirt or pull at the sleeves.
Chris watches me like a hawk, always, and I can't let him see. Not again. The sharpness of his gaze is all encompassing and I loathe to find what he wants to speak about.
He waits until we're alone before he approaches me. He'll stand near me, large body looming in a patient silence. It wrecks my nerves and my focus.
"Yes, you do."
He follows as I move to the other table carrying a stack of hard drives. I gently unstack them, placing each hard drive next to one another on the glowing interface, and wait for Iris to sort through them. She'll download the data, reduce its size and earmark it for contents.
"No, I don't believe I do."
Scoffing, he leans against the table and crosses his arms. I still refuse to look at him. Silence and time yawn open as Iris works and the blue display flickers like lightning.
The elephant in the room only grows in size. It never diminishes. Especially since I know he's caught Catrina sneaking into my room once late at night and twice leaving before the day has begun.
Questions burned in his blue eyes. Questions I don't want to answer. Questions I don't want to examine.
"I nearly kissed you, Blue, and you pushed me away when Catrina called your name."
"No—" I fish for a believable lie. "I pushed you away to answer we were alive."
He leans closer, angling himself directly over my left shoulder. His left hand presses against the display and it lights up, scanning his fingertips. Warm, minty fresh breath washes over me and I shiver. "And you couldn't wait until after I kissed you?"
Stomach dropping, I open and close my mouth. "Ryker was worried."
"He's always worried about you." Chris answers. "It was more than that. It was Catrina."
"It wasn't." I hiss. "Why won't you believe me?"
"Because I've caught her sneaking in and out of your room several times and I see the agony in your eyes."
He reaches for me, but I jerk away. Sighing, he drops his outstretched hand and looks away. I'm trembling, barely able to keep it together.
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"I know I've never seen you wear a long sleeve t-shirt." He motions to my mismatched outfit: long forest green henley and torn cargo pants with white combat boots. "And even though you've tried to hide them from me, your eyes are red with dark bags. Tell me what's going on."
"What do you think is going on?"
He swallows harshly and clenches his fists. "I think Catrina is hurting you."
My heart rate ratchets up. "Why do you think that?"
"Because you're covering up and you never shied away from meeting me head on. You're skittish, Blue. You slide away from me when I'm near and you refuse to meet my gaze."
Stealing myself, I let him come to me. Like a gong, his footsteps echo in the empty space. I count them, doing my best to stay still and not give into the desire to run.
"You swing toward me when I'm close," he whispers, "but now you pull away."
"You tried to kiss me, Chris," I roll my lips inward, "how do you know I'm not uncomfortable around you?"
"That's easy, love," he husks, "even though you pull away, you turn yourself in my direction like you're doing now. You receive me. You don't receive her."
I gasp for my next breath, struggling to keep it together.
"You want me. That's okay, Blue. I want you, too."
My mind whirls and I can't think. This can't happen. It can't.
Last time, she knew. I don't know how, but she knew, and I paid the price. Yearning for Chris Gatlin is one thing, acting on it is another and something I can't let happen again.
"You're lying."
Shrugging, I move away. "What's it to you, Gatlin?"
"Why are yo—"
"Blue!" Ryker steps back into the lab with Catrina on his heels.
He's steaming with rage, tension stringing him from head to toe. Mutiny burns in his gaze and his fists are clenched. Behind him, Catrina's mouth is twisted, but she doesn't speak a word.
Her eyes find me and they cool. I wasn't near Chris, just in the nick of time. She probably would've gone thermonuclear if I was standing too close to him again.
"What have you found?"
"Not much," I admit. "But Iris is nearly done cataloging the records. Should be up in less than a minute."
With a whirl, the hologram projector cuts on and my heart sinks.
Yellow, red and white spin through the first shot and the Oleum's roof sinks like a stone. The small house sitting on top crumples as quickly as a house of cards, falling into the failing structure. Light posts, sand, bits of road and cement pitch into the hole.
Screams echo in the video, but they're drowned by the explosion of materials sinking down around them. Helicopters hover in the air, and ropes come down on either side carrying people dressed in all black. They hold guns in their hands, wearing kevlar with big black boots and ski masks.
They aren't alone.
A matching mass of metal follows on the ground. In formation, they head toward the hole indiscriminately. Bright red eyes laze out of metal skeletal faces.
Chris moves closer to the hologram, horrified. "What the fuck are those?"
Rykers turns to me. "Want to fill him in, Blue?"
"Not really," I mutter, but I don't have any choice. If he's going to work with us—going to stay, he needs to know what he's up against to decide if this job is worth it.
It's odd to bare my life to him and tell him the truth. I've kept this secret close and babied it, hoping I'd never have to speak it. The reality is, Chris Gatlin is observant--too observant--and he would have discovered the truth either way.
"Blue," Ryker gruffs, walking to my side and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. Hissing under my breath, I relax in his hold and ignore the thousands of needle pinpricks lighting up my spine. "He needs to know to better protect you."
"From what I can tell, they're first generation advanced artificially intelligent inlaid into titanium alloy automated machinery."
Rolling his eyes, Chris looked at me. "They're robots?"
"Exactly. I can see with both eyes, Blue. What are they?"
"I call them Mults."
Confusion marred his face, but he didn't comment on the silly name. Since they weren't mine, I was going through the naming process and coining them with something off the spectrum. It wasn't my job.
Whoever owns them probably named them. Strangely, I want to know their names and know their functions—beyond destruction—if they even had one. Curling my hands into fists, I glare at the recording and feed what I know to the newest member of my security team still living.
"I'm not sure manufactures them, but they're of cheaper make. Their titanium alloy is functional and strong. Yet, there are parts of the machines more susceptible to damage than others.
They move in unison, and they also act independently. Meaning, they'll gather as a group and attack individually to protect someone or something in the center of their collective. From what I can tell in the recording, they were sent on a seek and destroy mission."
"Who are they seeking?" Chris asks.
"I think you know," I respond.
He glances at me, and our gazes catch. Maddeningly attractive blue eyes hold mine captive. He's testing me to see if I'll break the connection first, but I can't.
The longing inside of me unfurls faster than I care to admit. I want to be close to him. I want him to hold me as he did in the midst of the destruction and kiss me.
It's a silly wish and one that'll get me in hot water, but I can't help how I feel.
"What is it you have they want?"
I'm tempted to lie, but what would it solve? He has to know the truth sometime and I can see the glimmer in Ryker's eyes. He's letting me answer the question how I wish.
I can lie and say they're after me for the technology I've designed or I can tell the truth and admit the choice I've made. Tricky choice. If Chris can't be trusted, then I've placed our entire company in danger.
"It's not what I have, but what I am."
He smirks. "Intelligence? Sarcasm?"
I shake my head to both and his eyes soften.
"Beauty?"
Catrina clears her throat, glaring him down. I'll pay for his little comment later, but Ryker is enjoying the banter. He's staring openly wearing a mile-wide grin in his newly replaced black dress shirt, black dress pants and shiny black Oxfords.
I truly need to take the man shopping.
"I'm not completely human."
Laughing, Chris takes a few steps back. "What are you? An alien?"
"No."
His laughter tapers off and he stares at me incredulously. "Then what are you?"
Ryker poses the question to Iris. "What is Blue, Iris?"
"Blue is the recipient of cognitive and physical improvements made to increase stamina, intelligence, and other biological aspects through human augmentation."
"Human augmentation? You're augmented?"
Anxious, I nod. "Yes."
"How long?" None of us speak. "I'll ask one more time: how long?"
"Since right before you arrived..." I admit. "I was being augmented when the Hold went down."
His jaw ticks, and blood pools in the tips of his ears, turning them red. I fall into my systems to monitor his vitals. After a few moments, his vitals fall back to normal and he breathes out.
"That's why you were in the hospital bed?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell me before?" His body moves in my direction, but Catrina intercepts him.
"That's close enough, Chris."
He doesn't even bother looking at her. There's one objective, one mission, and it's me. He won't be stopped, no matter what I say or do.
I don't know much about him, but I know he'd never hurt me. His lips pull down on the sides and his hands shake. Beneath the bravado is a man who cares deeply.
"Why didn't you tell me about this?"
Hesitating, I ask him a question as an answer. "Would it have made a difference?"
His response knots my stomach. "It would have made all the difference."
Without another word, he turns and walks out of the lab without looking back. Utterly destroyed, I close my eyes and sink my teeth into my bottom lip.
"Wow..." Catrina mocks, "I guess prince charming can't handle everything like you thought, Ryker."
Ryker frowns at her. "Head to the rear lab. I want you to watch every stitch of this video to determine who breached Blue's surgery first."
Her mockery ends in a pout. "Iris can't do it?"
"Yes," he says, "but you're pissing me off."
"Fine. Want to keep me company, Blue?"
"I can—"
My lungs snap shut and I fall to my knees as my mind splinters. An echo of snapping and popping zaps through my ears, rendering me useless. Like a lodge falling over a waterfall, I slam to the ground, face first.
In the back of my mind, Ryker and Catrina's voices filter through, but I can't understand their words. There's a cacophony of sounds in my mind, slamming against one another incessantly. My tongue clings to the roof of my mouth and my eyes roll.
Acid builds at the back of my throat, threatening to vomit over the floor. Sweat beads on my neck and chest as a tumult of images flash through my head. They're unfamiliar, grainy and look like old polaroids scanned into a photo database.
Nothing compares to the voice. It's a garbling mess of words, sounds and scratches. It turns through the sights like a lightning bolt and I seize, knocking on the ground and viciously kicking out.
Wetness spreads across my back, and Ryker flips me to my side, removing my shirt. His hands freeze and he glances at my face.
Make it stop.
Why won't it stop?
Radiating from my brain to my neck and arms, the static fries my control. I'm flailing wildly, thrashing and lashing out. Catrina can't hold me, and neither can Ryker.
As darkness sets in and my mind surrenders, Chris' form shadows mine and I offer a watery smile before passing out.