Metallic Heart

by Liahona West

  “Am I?”

  Swallowing, Eloise nodded.

  His breathing increased, and Eloise, unwilling to resist, leaned in. Breath puffed across the surface of her skin. Her muscles hummed.

  Children screamed, and they separated.

  Ohmygod. Her face heated. We almost…

  She stole a glance his way—he was still looking at the kids—and smiled, touching her mouth.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Bannack

  He sat up, sweating, and told himself it was the fault of the morning sun on his blanket.

  Eloise filled his dreams during the night. Her hair had spread out from her head in vibrant tendrils, covering the grass she laid in. She motioned to him, her voice low and seductive. He dreamed he had laid down next to her, felt her ivory skin underneath his fingers, and kissed her neck. The imagery was so vivid, so alluring, he spent most of the night awake.

  Yes. The reason he was sweating was because of the sun. Most definitely. For sure. Probably. Maybe.

  Bannack groaned, walked to the water basin on a side table, and splashed his face. A view of Eloise’s collar bone flashed in his head.

  “Come on,” Bannack growled as he gripped the edges of the side table. “Clear your mind. No feelings. I can’t…”

  It’s no use.

  More flashes of Eloise. They mocked him, haunted him, and he wanted them gone and to stay all at the same time.

  Would allowing myself to feel this be so bad?

  It didn’t help that he had touched her hand at the river and leaned in close to her. That had to stop. Completely.

  He let the thoughts swirl and sway in his head, images and desires forming a vibrant dance. At first, he avoided showing emotion over it, but as he entertained the feelings, a smile grew on his lips. She utterly captivated him.

  Despite trying to feel nothing, he felt everything.

  Someone knocked on his door. Bannack gasped, fumbling with the water bowl as it sloshed and tipped before he managed to wrangle it to submission.

  “Yeah?” He called out.

  “It’s Mason. Be at the sparring yard in five.”

  “Sure, boss.”

  He turned to the mirror hanging on the wall above the washbasin and put his index finger on it. “Listen,” he said. “If she’s there, you are going to feel nothing while you’re with her and this will all pass quickly.”

  This is going to go the exact opposite of what I want, isn’t it?

  He looked at the water in the basin, then grabbed a shirt from the new dresser he brought to his room a few days ago. It didn’t slide open well, but it did a decent enough job. With the shirt around his upper arms, Bannack turned to look at his back in the mirror. Four long scars, running diagonally from his shoulder to his spine, were purpled but fading. He’d never sustained scars so severe before. Soora had removed the stitches a week ago. Bannack reached around and touched the longest and deepest raised mark.

  He scooped some ointment up with his fingers that Soora had given him to encourage better healing, massaged it into his skin, then lifted his shirt over his head. The scars pulled but didn’t hurt.

  Bannack walked to the sparring yard, resolve in his mind and determination in his step. He had a plan. And he would stick to it.

  The plan dissipated once he turned the corner. Eloise stood in the hallway, leaning against the doorjamb into Mason and Soora’s room, her ankle crossed over the other and her arm propped over her head. Her olive jacket hung off one shoulder.

  I should run. Yeah. Get away from—

  She turned. Her upturned eyes drew him in, locking his feet into place. Through them, Bannack saw her soul. It was wild, on fire, and nothing stood a chance against the inferno. Including Bannack.

  If he wasn’t careful, she’d burn him.

  The only thing to do now was mask the hurricane inside his own mind.

  “Good morning,” Bannack said, smiling at her.

  She stretched. “Good morning. I hear you’re hitting the sparring yard soon.”

  “I am.”

  “Cool.” She gave a smile. “I’m heading there myself. Just stopped to say hi.”

  Brilliant. This is going so well.

  She leaned into the room and waved goodbye to Soora and Mason, then looked at Bannack. They locked eyes for a moment.

  “Do you want to walk together?” She asked.

  All he could do was nod.

  Eloise watched him for a moment, a faint smile twitching at the corner of her mouth. She leaned in and he stepped back. Eloise masked his movement, stepping forward until his back was against the wall. He stared down at her, his heart loud in his head.

  Eloise chuckled. “Come on, Bo.”

  They took the long hallway and after a few minutes of walking, Bannack and Eloise stepped into the sunlight. When his eyes adjusted, he saw people hanging out in the area, some eating breakfast, others playing games.

  Eloise pointed. “Sparring section’s this way.”

  Old traffic cones marked off an area on the far end of the yard where a pile of sticks and various blunt weapons waited. A heavy bag hung on a metal frame. As they approached the blocked off area, Bannack pushed the heavy bag. Its chain chinked together gently.

  “Ready?” Eloise asked.

  Sticks clacked together, and Bannack turned around to see a thick piece of wood flying toward him. He jerked out of the way, heart racing, and snatched it out of the air.

  Wind rushed against him. She disappeared underneath his arm. Next thing he knew, her boot slammed into his backside and he stumbled. The ground rushed out from underneath his feet. He caught his footing, then unleashed several forward attacks to push Eloise back. He needed the upper hand. And fast. Or Eloise was going to best him in a simple fight.

  As Bannack brought his stick up, jarring vibrations shaking his shoulders, Eloise danced around him like a cat. Her movements were controlled. Fluid.

  “Come on, Bo. Don’t go easy on me. Fight me!”

  He was going easy on her. Truth be told, fighting her at his best terrified him, not because he would hurt her—she had proven she could hold her own—but because of too many bad memories.

  Eloise crouched in front of him, her gently defined muscles flexed to support her position on the ground. “I want you to fight me. I can tell you’re holding back. Come on!”

  Her yell resembled more of a battle cry and in one leap, she pushed off a concrete block sitting against the chain-link fence and brought her stick down toward him. The collision of wood-on-wood rattled Bannack’s teeth. She smelled of sweat. His heels made tiny mounds in the dirt.

  “Is it because I’m a girl?” Eloise whispered through gritted teeth and a smirk.

  “No!” In one heave, Bannack shoved her off him. He ran his stick along the chain-link fence, making a rattling sound, and took a defensive stance.

  On the next attack, Bannack faked an uppercut, then swiped with his legs. Eloise hit the ground, coughing. Sweat made the edge of her hair wet. Her chest expanded and contracted. She chuckled. “Sweet move. Now watch this!”

  Eloise rushed him again. He picked out a tell—her elbow moved a second before the rest of her arm—and with that information, he dodged the incoming punch, faked his own, grabbed her shoulder, and slammed her body into the ground.

  “What were you going to show me again?” Bannack asked, laughter at the edge of his words.

  Eloise narrowed her eyes.

  Something exhilarating awoke in him. He thought it was adrenaline at first. He was almost…having fun. He smiled. Then a chuckle rippled gently through his body.

  Underneath him, Eloise smirked.

  Her feet dug into his stomach and he hit the ground. Hard. Shock that Eloise had the leg strength to lift him into the air made his hair stand on end.

  Bannack’s lungs crackled when they expanded finally. Eloise appeared over him, her braid swinging as she brought her stick down. He rolle
d. Sound waves from the sparring stick made his ears ring.

  “How in the world?” Bannack gulped precious air to fill his angry lungs.

  “Mason’s a good teacher,” came Eloise’s rasp. She stood straight, stretched out her back, and rolled her neck. “Why? You tired yet?”

  He chuckled, shaking out his arms. “You wish.”

  Bannack surged forward.

  Eloise danced away.

  Gritting his teeth, Bannack attacked with an overhead arch. Eloise brought her arm up to defend but reacted slower than before and he clipped her face. But she kept attacking. Bannack’s arms threatened to fail. An ill-timed swing gave Eloise the advantage, and she ducked under his arm. His spine absorbed a sharp blow. A pained groan clawed out of his throat. Then she touched his Adam’s apple with the end of her stick.

  “Gotcha.”

  Huffing, Bannack grabbed her stick and twisted. Eloise gasped and stumbled into the chain-link fence, pinned.

  His entire body burned from the countless bruises he would wake up to the next morning.

  She should have counterattacked.

  Eloise remained still against the fence. When she placed her hand on his chest, the gentle warmth and dampness of her skin bloomed across his torso. The scent of salty sweat and fresh air tumbled off her body, reminding Bannack of the ocean. He leaned in dangerously close. She should have pushed him away. She didn’t.

  Bannack whispered, “No. I got you.”

  Those words, tossed from his mouth before he could stop them, froze Eloise in her tracks and she released a quiet shaking gasp. The pressure of the stick Eloise kept against Bannack’s chest eased, allowing him more room to draw closer to her. Their noses almost touched, and electricity hummed in the space between their bodies.

  They assessed each other. Eloise’s breaths made her upper torso push against his own. Her hand drifted to his waist, and she kept it there. The smallest amount of pressure almost made him collapse and the air surrounding them cracked with an energy foreign to Bannack.

  Eloise swiped the tip of her nose against his own. A shudder ran through him, from his back to his shoulders, and it was all he could do from falling over in a massive heap.

  “Bannack,” she whispered. A shiver moved through her. “I like fighting with you.”

  He thought for a moment, his eyes flicking to her lips, and smirked. “So do I.”

  “I need you to tell me something.”

  Her breath exploded across his face as he inclined his head down to her. The most powerful urge to kiss the line of her scar seared his lips, and if he didn’t kiss her soon, he would burn. He wanted to kiss all of her, love all of her.

  Bannack licked his lips. “Yes?”

  “Do I have any chance with you?”

  Oh, my God…

  After a quiet groan, Bannack said, “I thought you were taken.” When she furrowed her brow, he clarified. “Finch.”

  “Well, she’s great and all, but I don’t like sharing. If I went with her, I’d have to.”

  Spontaneous combustion wasn’t possible, but he came dangerously close to debunking the myth. He tilted his head to the sky. When he brought his head down to look at Eloise, she was smiling at him with her head tilted. He shuddered. Her hand touched his hip and chest, and her palm burned a hole into him, making him take deep, shaking breaths.

  “You are the most beautiful human being I have ever met. I…” He stared at her lips. As if to tease him, she parted them.

  “Bo,” she whispered, and he responded with a quiet grunt. She continued, “We have an audience.”

  All his willpower went into looking where she gestured with her head and he noticed the crowd, Sibyl at the front, smirking.

  “We should probably go,” Eloise said. Her voice was heavy.

  “But I like it here.” When he leaned in, he wrapped his arms around her waist.

  Eloise put her hands on the back of his neck, cleared her throat, and the previous sultry tone to her words left. “Me too, but they’re waiting.”

  Pouting, Bannack relented and stepped back. Eloise slid her hand into his, making a wave of gooseflesh rise on his arm, and she smiled. Together they walked past the crowd.

  “Don’t you dare,” Eloise said as she pointed at Sibyl who threw her hands in the air.

  “What?” Sibyl asked, faking shock. “I didn’t say anything!”

  Eloise smiled, and Bannack watched, fascinated by her face. She looked up and nudged him, saying, “Wanna run away with me?”

  The words warmed him, and he squeezed her hand. “Let’s go.”

  They spent the rest of the day together, most of it at the river.

  While Eloise gathered food for their dinner, Bannack meandered through the open forest glade, looking for the perfect piece of wood to carve. His maame had taught him. She spent much of his childhood combing the beach for the perfect piece of driftwood. As she carved, her tongue poking out the side of her mouth, Bannack would sit on her lap, on the table, or in a chair next to her and watch her hands move and create effortlessly. When he asked her to teach him, never did he expect woodcarving would become a way to stay close to her. To remember her.

  Eloise bumped into him, and he smiled down at her. The way her gold eyes, so light they almost were golden, blazed through his skin was enough to make him shiver deep in his bones, and his eyes shifted to her face.

  God, you’re beautiful.

  He took inventory of his emotions. Beating heart in his chest and neck. Heated face. An electrical buzz between them as she stood in her warrior’s stance.

  I’ve had other crushes. Other women. So why her? Why is she different?

  It couldn’t be one thing. It wasn’t just her strength, or her skill with a knife, or their shared past. His attraction truly blossomed because of her wit, strength, and kindness. He…wanted to share things with her.

  “Oi, Spaceman.” Eloise grabbed his hand.

  She kissed his palm.

  Good God. She was going to kill him. He’d have a heart attack right there on the sand.

  The way her lips brushed his callouses, feather-light, threatened to bring him to his knees, reduce him to a shuddering mess, and by God, he’d thank her for it.

  They settled onto the grass at the riverbank, admiring the setting sun’s rich yellow, red, purple, and orange. Eloise nestled against his chest and he rested his forearm on his bent knee.

  Eloise crossed her legs. “I’m curious…Morning person or night owl?”

  “What?” Her hair tickled his nose, and when he hung his arm over her shoulder, he couldn’t help but smile. He pressed his lips to the back of her head.

  “Are you a morning person or a night owl?” She clarified. “This is important information.”

  Bannack chuckled. “As a kid, I was a night owl, but I am getting old and like my sleep.”

  “Ha!” Eloise snorted. “You’re old? Please.”

  “Okay, smartass, now it is my turn,” Bannack inhaled as he thought. “Mmm. Got it. Why are your eyes gold? They were hazel when we were kids but now, they are not.”

  “The nanites.”

  That took Bannack off guard, but he stayed quiet.

  “When the nanites fused to my organs, something in them changed my eye color. I don’t really know why but I’ve never tried to find out because I kinda like people’s reaction but also it doesn’t hurt me. Just some weird quirk, I guess.”

  “Who knew nanites could do something so cool.”

  Crickets chirped as darkness grew around them. The space between his socks and hem of his pants chilled when cool air ran across his body and he was grateful for Eloise’s body heat.

  “As a child,” Eloise snuggled deeper into his chest, “what did you want to be when you grew up?”

  “My dad.”

  Eloise turned to stare at Bannack for several seconds, surprised. She shouldn’t have been, though. Kwadwo Owusu was a quiet man, preferring to r
emain in his study, prepping lectures for his students at the local university. When he spoke, it was calm, careful, and slow, like the ebb and flow of the ocean waves. He rarely smiled with his mouth, preferring to do so with his body and actions. Kwadwo, called Kojo by Bannack’s mom, was a peaceful presence and made everyone feel at home whenever they visited.

  I miss you so much.

  “Why your dad?”

  Although it stung a bit to open up about his dad, which he hadn’t done since his father’s passing years ago, what struck him as pleasantly odd was opening up to Eloise made the pain less severe.

  “He came here from Ghana with nothing. The amount of hard work he must have put into just getting that far is incredible, but then he went even further and became a professor of Ghanaian history, then later my Maame joined him and they became a team. Separate from Maame, he was known for his papers and progress in the field. People came to him. They revered him. He became the world’s best historian. He and Maame gave me and Malikah an incredible life because of his perseverance. Yes. I want to be just like him. Fearless, strong but quiet, and kind.” When he stopped talking, Bannack noticed Eloise smiling at him. “What?”

  She smiled and leaned forward. “It’s nice to hear you open up.”

  A sad chuckle escaped through Bannack’s nose. “It has been a long time since I talked about him but you,” he spread his arms around Eloise’s waist, drawing her close, and warmth radiated off her, “make it easier to talk about him.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Joy

  “Dr. Pierce!” A guard rushed out from the facility. “Seth had a seizure minutes ago. We did our best to help, but—”

  Joy bolted into the building, the glass door shattering as it collided with the wall. Banging footsteps echoed in the stairwell and as Joy reached the first landing, she heard her name.

  “Mama!”

  Her stomach clenched.

  I can’t take many more of these.

  Four. Four seizures since she agreed to leave Eloise alone