House Immortal

by Devon Monk

“Do what?”

  “Disappear?”

  “I didn’t disappear. I walked right past you. And found the contract.” I held up the paper to prove it. “I’m quicker than I look. Don’t forget it.”

  “You signed?”

  I glanced down at the paper, the reality of what I’d done sinking in. “Um. Yes. I did. Ten years.” The last came out too soft.

  I’d just given away a decade of my life.

  Abraham was suddenly in front of me. “Matilda?” He touched my shoulders, then drew his palms down to grip my upper arms. His hands were hot as furnaces.

  I felt like I’d been swallowed in ice.

  “We need to go.”

  I was too frozen to move.

  “We really need to go,” he said a second or two later when I still hadn’t moved.

  I heard him, I was just stuck on the reality of what I’d just done.

  His hands shifted, sliding up and up until the heels of his hands were braced beneath my jaw, his fingers spread back into my hair, his thumbs stroking the corners of my lips gently.

  “Matilda?” he said softly as he lowered his head to mine, his eyes shifting to gaze at my lips, then back to my eyes.

  He was going to kiss me.

  That realization came with a collision of feelings and wants and things I didn’t know how to define. That realization also came with a heartbeat that pounded heat through my veins and unfroze me. I melted into his touch, wanting that kiss more than anything else.

  “Y-yes?” I breathed.

  His lips were almost on mine. His body bent over me, closer, closer. I thought I’d burst for want.

  I held my breath and closed my eyes.

  His fingers squeezed the back of my neck, gentle and possessive.

  “If you make me late,” he murmured, his breath warm across my mouth, “I will throttle you.”

  Wait. What?

  My eyes snapped open.

  He drew away so quickly a cold breeze whisked over my skin.

  By the time I pulled my thoughts together, he was already out the door.

  His voice floated back to me. “Move, Matilda. We’re late.”

  That was it? No kiss? What was wrong with that man? He was sending off more mixed signals than a three-armed traffic cop.

  I stuffed the scarf back in my duffel, zipped it tight, and tucked it under the desk.

  “You know what you are, Mr. Vail?” I said, storming out after him.

  “In a hurry?” he answered.

  “A coward.”

  “Is that so?”

  He was already a set of stairs ahead of me. I pounded down them to catch up. “Yes. A man makes a move like that, he follows through.”

  “And what makes you think I won’t?”

  “Men like you are all talk and no tango.”

  He paused in front of a metal door, his hand on the latch. “How would you know?” He yanked on the door and held it open, blocking my passage with the bulk of his body, a smug smile on his face. “You’ve never met a man like me.”

  Yeah, well, he hadn’t ever met a woman like me either.

  I pushed by him and stepped on his foot hard enough, he winced and sucked in a surprised breath.

  Galvanized didn’t feel pain. But the galvanized that I’d touched had felt me.

  That was to my advantage in this fight. Working the farm with the beasts and ferals meant I was no stranger to bruises and breaks. I was used to pain.

  Abraham Seventh had been practically numb for nearly three hundred years. Maybe it was time to see if he remembered how to take the hurt.

  The training hall stretched across the entire floor of the building and was beautiful in its simplicity. Light wooden floors soaked up the sunlight pouring in through the huge windows overlooking the city, while white and wood panels separated the space into smaller areas.

  Oscar Gray sat on the other side of the training mat that filled a quarter of the space. John Black sat next to him, and Buck stood at his back. The white panels behind them were filled with images of very pretty, very young people, each wearing a distinct color.

  The heads of the Houses. Well, seven of them, and one blank screen that held the symbol of House Gold, Money, which probably had a committee listening in.

  I took a minute to gawk at faces I’d seen on only scratchy feeds, displayed here in such clear rendering, it was as if they were really in the room with us.

  Troi Blue, Water, didn’t look a day over twenty. She wore a plunging pale blue dress that rippled against her midnight-dark skin. Her hair was glossy black and fell in gorgeous waves around her shoulders, and her features were soft and perfect. She held herself like royalty, a ruler, superior to all others.

  Feye Green, Agriculture, was almost her opposite. Small and slight, she was ghost white and doll-faced. Her pale yellow hair formed a kinky mane that only made her look smaller and more fragile. She was moonlight, and even the pale green of her sweater threatened to swallow her.

  “Matilda Case,” Oscar was saying. Introducing me, I thought.

  I was catching only about half of it, too nervous about all the eyes of all the world’s power on me.

  I had promised Quinten I would stay hidden.

  So much for that.

  Gideon Violet, Faith, paced while Oscar talked, his corporate-style plum suit almost old-fashioned, his tie loose, his steel-gray hair making what may have been a handsome face sad and old.

  “Newly awakened, newly discovered,” Oscar went on.

  The other two women were Kiana White, Medical, and Aranda Red, Power. Aranda Red wore her dark hair short and slicked into points at each temple. She had the coloring of a woman who avoided the sun. Her lips were bloodred, her eyebrows and lashes darkened and arched. She looked at me with a slight smile, calculating, predatory. I wondered if her smile would contain fangs.

  Kiana White wore her honey-brown hair pulled back loosely, giving her friendly face a golden glow. Her slightly tilted, catlike eyes glittered with curiosity and she sat forward, taking in every detail. She wore a soft white blouse tucked into tailored white trousers, and an air of composure far beyond her apparent twenty-five-year-old looks.

  “Today,” Oscar said, “she has agreed to prove herself galvanized. Abraham Seventh will assist in the display of her skills.”

  There were only two other faces up there on screens. Welton Yellow, Technology who was still wearing the yellow frog shirt and half-lidded eyes, but must have finished his popcorn, and a man with short white hair and dark glasses, wearing a silver sweater.

  White hair would be Reeves Silver, Vice. He looked like a betting man and had on his poker face.

  “Abraham Seventh, Miss Matilda Case,” Oscar continued. “Please step onto the mats. We are ready for you to begin.”

  “No more talk,” Abraham said quietly as he walked past me, barefoot. “Let’s tango.”

  He bowed to the Houses, then turned and bowed toward me.

  “Hold on,” I said. “Excellencies.” I gave them a nod, then turned. I took off my boots, shrugged out of my coat.

  I’d never felt so naked.

  He might be strong, but I was fast. He might be a better fighter, but I didn’t have a half-healed gut wound.

  I drew my hands over my hair and tied it into a knot at the back of my head, then turned to the mat.

  I bowed to Abraham, mostly because I was already feeling a little guilty for what I was about to do to him.

  He stepped out onto the mat. So did I.

  He swung at my head, his fist big enough to knock a hole the size of Bangkok through the wall.

  I ducked, threw a punch toward his neck. His hands blocked upward . . .

  ...and that’s when I kicked him as hard as I could in the balls.

  He buckled and slammed down on his knee
s with a groan.

  I stepped behind him and clamped my hand on the side of his neck. I didn’t know how long the sensation of touch remained after I let go, so it seemed safer to just hold on.

  “This auction is over,” I said to the Houses. “I am off the block. I’ve chosen House Gray and signed the contract with them. I’m sure there are medical tests I could pass to settle the matter of being galvanized.”

  Welton Yellow burst out laughing. The other Houses appeared angry and annoyed.

  Buck still stood behind John Black, but his gaze flicked between Abraham and me, then settled on me with a new sort of caution.

  “House Gray,” Troi Blue said. “Have you brought us here to mock us?”

  “No, House Blue, I have not,” Oscar said. “The galvanized did not consult with me in this regard.”

  “Is it true?” John Black asked. “Did you sign a contract?”

  “Yes.” I let go of Abraham and immediately got out of his reach. I wasn’t dumb. “I brought it with me, if you need to see it.”

  “Stop speaking,” Troi Blue snapped. “Until spoken to.”

  I pressed my lips together to keep from telling her off. This wasn’t an argument I could win by being angry. This was a situation that would work out in my favor only if the contract I signed held, and if Oscar and the other Houses agreed that we had a deal.

  “You have to admit it was fun,” Welton Yellow said. “Thank you, Oscar Gray, for today’s entertainment. I concede your claim to the galvanized Matilda Thirteenth, as long as the contract is witnessed and she indeed proves to be galvanized.”

  “House Yellow,” Troi Blue said. “You overstep.”

  “No, I don’t believe I do,” Welton said. “Who else wants to bid for a creature that can’t be bought? I’d rather not display my wealth, nor favors.”

  “Conceded,” Gideon Violet of Faith said. His screen winked out.

  “What House did it claim before coming to you?” Feye Green asked.

  “None,” Oscar said smoothly. “She was without House.”

  “Unbelievable,” Aranda Red said. “And how is it you found her, Oscar Gray?”

  “Accidentally,” Oscar said.

  Her eyes flashed. She wanted him to say more, to tell her where my home was and what had tipped him off, but Oscar, bless the man, remained cheerfully silent.

  “Let’s see the contract,” John Black said. “Matilda, bring it to me.”

  Abraham had gotten up off his knees, a sheen of sweat over his stony face. He stood between me and Oscar and refused to make eye contact.

  I walked over to my coat and dug through the folds to the inner pocket where I’d stashed the paper.

  Abraham took it from me before I’d gotten halfway across the mat and handed it to Oscar.

  Oscar tapped something on the side of his wrist, and each of the Houses now had an image of the paper in their hands. Oscar handed John Black the original.

  “So witnessed.” John Black shook his head. “I have some matters to go over with you, Oscar Gray,” he said.

  “Of course. You are welcome to stay.” Oscar looked up at the screens.

  So did I. Only Welton Yellow was grinning, a lazy cat smile. “Good day, all,” he said. Then his screen winked out.

  Kiana White, Medical, spoke. “Well. That was very interesting. Oscar Gray, will you accept a technician from House White to confirm Matilda Thirteenth as officially galvanized?”

  “That would be fine, Kiana White,” Oscar said.

  “I’ll send someone immediately.” Her screen flickered out.

  Aranda Red scowled and said nothing before her screen went blank.

  Troi Blue raised her chin. “This display of power and trickery does not sit well with me, House Gray. We will speak more of this at the gathering.” She snapped her fingers, and her screen went blank.

  That left only Reeves Silver, Vice, on the screen. “Welcome to the fold, Matilda Case,” he said coolly. Then even he was gone.

  The room went silent.

  After a moment, Oscar cleared his throat. “Well. We have some things to go over, don’t we, John? Would you join me in my office?”

  The two of them left the room. Buck threw Abraham an explain-later look before following behind.

  21

  The twelve refused to stay hidden, secret. They refused to be property. Together the galvanized stood against the world and declared war upon the Houses.—2099

  —from the journals of L.U.C.

  “Don’t you need to go with Oscar?” I asked.

  Abraham took a deep breath and his eyes, when he finally turned to look at me, were cinnamon red again. Maybe pain. Most likely anger. “You have a special skill of stirring up trouble. Do you know that?”

  “I was trying to untrouble the trouble,” I objected. “I signed the contract. I, um . . . ended the fight quick.”

  “About that,” he said. “Dirty move, Tilly.”

  It was the first time he’d used my nickname. I liked the sound of it from him.

  “Yeah, well. I never said I was any good at the tango either.” I picked up my coat and boots. “I suppose someone will let me know my penance?”

  “It shouldn’t be too severe,” he said.

  I was joking.

  He was not.

  “They might just write off the whole thing to you being excited and new and untrained. Tomorrow, though, we’ll see that you’re trained for the gathering.”

  “Two things,” I said. “Which part of all this am I hoping they’ll write off?”

  “Your attitude, breaking rules, breaking arms, breaking protocol, and telling off the heads of the Houses. Not the best start for a galvanized.” He should sound angry about all that. Hell, he should be angry at me for dropping him to his knees. But he just looked . . . I don’t know . . . impressed.

  “And the training?” I started up the stairs, and Abraham’s footsteps were soon echoing behind mine.

  “You haven’t heard of it?” he said with overly casual interest.

  “Has to do with the gathering?”

  “Yes. The annual event where all the Houses gather and pose and position for who will wield the most power in the next year. It used to be a time when grievances against the Houses could be heard, but a three-day gathering isn’t nearly long enough to hear all of that. Systems and courts and procedures were put into place to address complaints on an ongoing basis, which allowed the gathering to devolve into a bragging match.”

  “What do they brag about?”

  “Who had higher profits, gained more assets, had a breakthrough in technology or some other advancement. And, of course, who looks the youngest.”

  “Really?”

  “It’s become the big race. Youth—or the appearance of it, at least—is a House obsession. The younger the heads of Houses appear to be, the more power they wield. Staying young takes a lot of money, time, and deals between Houses.”

  “Oscar doesn’t look all that young. Neither does John Black.”

  “Oscar hasn’t ever bothered with vanity. John Black prefers people to underestimate him.”

  “All right, so who’s the youngest?”

  “It’s a toss-up between Troi Blue, Feye Green, and Aranda Red.”

  “What about Welton Yellow?”

  “He’s about as old as he looks.”

  “Oh. So how old are Blue, Green, and Red?

  “Just over a hundred.”

  “It’s a strange world you live in, Abraham Seventh.”

  “You have a dragon in your backyard.”

  “It’s a lizard.”

  “A lizard with wings.”

  “Okay, so that’s a little odd. Why do I have to train for the gathering?”

  “Galvanized represent their Houses. If there are House disputes, galv
anized may be used to settle the issue.”

  “Settle?”

  “Fight.”

  “Wonderful.” We were out of the stairwell and across the sitting room now. “Is that what those posters of you and Loy Ninth were about on the street?”

  “No.”

  I looked over my shoulder. “Just no?”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “The gathering isn’t the only time we are on display.”

  “Okay,” I said, not knowing what else to say. “Should I mention we talked to Welton Yellow when we went for coffee?”

  “We know. He’s a friend of our House. He sent you to that coffee shop so I could pick you up. We thought it was public enough no other House would make a move on you, and we thought it was crowded enough you wouldn’t do something stupid. Missed that by a moon.”

  “Hey, now. I was handling it just fine before you showed up.”

  He raised one eyebrow. “Broken arm and a revolver. A revolver, Matilda? You’re a couple centuries out-of-date in your choice of weapons.”

  “I like that revolver. You’d be surprised what a chunk of lead and gunpowder can do to even out a situation.”

  “No,” he said, “actually, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  “It’s not illegal to own a revolver.”

  “Neither is it illegal to own a canon. Not a lot of people lug them into a crowded metropolis.”

  “Well, I hadn’t planned to be walking around in a crowded metropolis. Then you showed up on my doorstep, all good-looking and bleeding and . . .”

  We were in front of my door now. He stepped up and draped his hand on the door above me. Leaned in just a fraction shy of intimate distance. Close enough I could feel the heat of him, smell the warm notes of the cologne he wore.

  “Good-looking and what?” he asked with a burr in his voice that gave me shivers.

  “And I couldn’t leave you bleeding.”

  “For that, I should thank you.” He moved just a half inch closer, his mouth opening slightly on a smile. “Thoroughly,” he added. Then, “Unfortunately, I have other pressing matters to attend.” He reached behind me and was skillful enough that we didn’t even touch as he opened the door. He leaned back so I wouldn’t fall through it by accident and pointed at the room.