House Immortal

by Devon Monk

  “I do hope you will refrain from running out for another cup of coffee or starting an in-House war for the next few hours.”

  I released the breath I’d been holding and tried to get my heartbeat under control. The man did such things to me. Stirred my thoughts and need without even a single touch.

  “Sure,” I said, trying not to sound hot or bothered. “For the next few hours anyway.” I smiled innocently.

  He paused, studying my lips, my eyes, and I found myself wondering if he was going to touch me, embrace me.

  Then I found myself wondering why I didn’t just take that step into him and touch him.

  He made a little mm sound, then turned and walked down the hall, leaving me surprisingly disappointed.

  What was wrong with me? I couldn’t have these feelings for the man. I’d known him exactly one day. I had a farm to run, a grandmother to take care of, a brother to free, and a new House to serve, apparently.

  How did any of that, any of the past twenty-four hours I’d been through, add up to the feelings for Abraham Seventh that were taking root in me?

  Foolish heart, I thought. I don’t have time for you.

  But my heart, being foolish, did not listen.

  Okay. Since I wasn’t going anywhere, I pulled the duffel out from under the chair and checked to be sure the scarf was still there. It was half-unraveled and I needed to do something to salvage it before it lost more stitches. I plucked a couple pens off the desktop and used them to knit a few rows, then stared at the clock and pulled the thread back out.

  Time did not stop. So this knitting—however Grandma had done it—was a onetime trick. If I wanted to keep the scarf and the time it held near me, or, better yet, on me, I’d need to cut the length of yarn and bind off the edge so no more stitches were accidentally pulled out.

  The light coming through the window at the end of the sitting room was already bright. I’d missed dawn, and enough of the day had gone by that it was midmorning. Kiana White had told Oscar that she would send a medical technician over to test to see that I was galvanized—a prospect that made me want to barf.

  So that meant I could either pace around the room until the technician showed up, or I could work on the scarf to keep busy.

  Scarf it was.

  But even though my hands were busy, my thoughts just kept on thinking. Had I made the right choice to sign the contract? Would Oscar follow through with his promise to help me find my brother? Would he let my grandma live on our property without House interference? Would he work to make House Brown legitimized among the other Houses?

  Abraham had almost kissed me.

  And I’d kicked him in the crotch.

  That was a promising beginning to a ten-year work relationship.

  I finished tugging the yarn through the last stitch to secure it, then wrapped the yarn around my hands a couple time and pulled until it broke.

  I held up the scarf. It was definitely shorter. Probably wouldn’t drag the floor when I wore it. But the stitches were all locked in tight until I wanted to unknot them again. No accidentally wasting time.

  I tucked the scarf back in my duffel and wound the yarn into a small ball that I also tucked in the duffel.

  “Good afternoon!” a woman’s cheerful, clipped voice called out from the other side of the bedroom door. “Are you awake, Matilda? There is so much to do.”

  “Be right there.”

  The door flew open.

  “Nonsense, darling. I shall come to you.” The small woman who had served us cookies and ice tea—Elwa—powered into the room. Her straight black hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and she wore a gray jacket, skirt, hose, and shoes all cut in a chic style. She had a bundle of clothes draped over one arm.

  A dour-faced man about twice her size, wearing white from head to foot, followed her in.

  “I am Elwa,” she said as she laid the garments across the foot of my bed in the adjoining room. “No need to worry about packing. It is done. No need to worry about what to wear.”

  She turned and gave me a sharp eye, then nodded. “Country living agrees with you, Matilda, my darling. Here. This.” She pulled away a few hangers, leaving behind a lacy tank top, sweater, and slacks, all in shades of gray. “Perfect for your day. Your travel. But first the blood for tests. Quickly, now.”

  “What?” I said, my brain not quite up to the speed of Elwa’s mouth.

  The man in white stepped forward right on cue. “Hold still,” he said with all the bedside manner of an undertaker.

  I held still, eyeing him warily. “What are you doing?”

  “A scan. Then blood.” He slipped the satchel on his shoulder forward and removed a device that looked like a clear, flat screen filled with fluids that shifted with every motion of his hand. He didn’t touch me, but used the thing a little like a camera, holding it above my head, pausing, then shifting it in front of my face, then in front of my neck, pausing, and so on, all the way to my bare feet.

  I didn’t feel anything, didn’t hear anything, didn’t feel anything, but the liquid moved and changed color as the device scanned me from skin to DNA.

  “Now blood,” he said after he’d stowed the liquid-screen thing.

  Another device, this one the size and shape of a pen. He tapped it against my finger, which hurt a little, held it there until it had sucked up enough blood; then that too was tucked back in the satchel.

  “Good day,” he said.

  “Good day.” Elwa bustled over and all but pushed him out the door.

  “Now,” she said. “Quickly.”

  “Quickly what?”

  “Shower. Dress,” she commanded. “Go. I will have lunch brought up. Something light. Something delicious.”

  “I don’t need new clothes,” I said. “I packed clothes. My clothes.”

  She paused and tipped her head so she was looking over her nose at me. “Are they gray?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “Exactly!” she proclaimed. “Go. Shower. Elwa will take care of everything.”

  So I took a quick shower, then hurried back to the bedroom in a towel. I had no intention of putting on the clothes she’d laid out for me.

  “This, my darling.” She marched into the room and plucked up the clothes on the bed. She held out the slacks, a lacy tank top, and a pair of my panties.

  “I’d prefer to wear my own clothes,” I said.

  “These are your clothes. I have shopped for you. Planned for you. There is no need to worry.” She gave me the down-nose look again. “Do not argue, please. I have been running this House for more years than you have been alive, darling, and there is no argument I lose.”

  “I thought Oscar Gray ran this House.”

  She laughed, a musical tinkle. “He only thinks he runs this House. Poor boy. Here now. Slacks. Before you catch cold.”

  She shoved the clothes into my arms and marched out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her. “I will wait. Ah yes, come in and set the food there.” She said to whomever had just entered the sitting room.

  I had to admit, the clothes in my arms were soft and fine. Obviously well-made. And if Elwa was someone who ran the House, she would know what sort of clothes were most appropriate for whatever the hell I had to do next.

  I sighed and put on the outfit, which covered up all signs of my life stitches, as long as I kept my hair down. I refused to wear the soft gray shoes set out beside the bed and instead put on my boots. Worn, dusty, they were comfortable, strong, and mine.

  “Are you dressed?” she called out. “Come out now, Matilda. Before lunch is cold.”

  I was starving. The last thing I’d eaten was a quick sandwich back on the farm. A twinge of homesickness struck me, and I had to take a breath or two before it faded.

  I missed the farm, missed my world making sense, missed Grandma and all th
e stitched-up beasts. I didn’t want to think that it might be a decade before I saw them all again.

  Out in the sitting room, Elwa had brought in a table and set it with a lovely gray cloth, against which shone silver cutlery, crisp white china, and sparkling crystal.

  It was lunch for royalty, not a country girl.

  “What is wrong with your feet?” Elwa exclaimed.

  I shot a look at my feet, expecting them to be on fire or covered in spiders or something.

  “My boots?”

  “You call those boots? My darling, those are a travesty. But no matter. This is your first time, after all. And not a bad effort at that. Although your hair . . .” She stopped moving and talking. I found her intense silence even more worrisome than her constant chatter. “Something must be done.”

  “I like it how it is,” I said. “Is that orange juice?” I hoped shifting the subject would keep her out of my hair—literally.

  “Yes, yes. Orange juice and a light lunch. Hurry, but don’t rush. We’ll meet with Oscar Gray in”—she tapped her finger twice in the air in front of her and a half-dozen time readouts flickered there—“seven minutes. Can I help you with that, my sweet?”

  I had been trying to unfold the napkin out of the shape of what I could only assume was a Gordian knot, and wasn’t having much luck.

  “No, I can—”

  “Shh. Nonsense,” Elwa’s tone took on a much softer edge. “Eat, Matilda. I am here to help.” She took the napkin gently from me, pulled it easily apart, and placed it in my lap.

  All right. If she was here to help, I’d ask some questions. “Do you know what the training is? Abraham mentioned I’d be trained for the gathering.” I took a drink of the orange juice, savoring the rich sweetness. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had it fresh.

  “Every year, the galvanized gather. What they do is a matter the galvanized do not share.” She poured hot tea and honey. “First, you will see Oscar; then you will leave with Abraham Seventh to the training compound. When you return here, I will have everything you need prepared for you to represent House Gray at the gathering.

  “I must say I am so pleased you have chosen House Gray to represent. You will be quite the talk, darling. An exhilarating wonder.”

  I assumed that by representing she meant fighting for.

  Great. I could wrestle a feral beast to the ground, but hand-to-hand with another galvanized wasn’t going to be easy. My only advantage was that I could make them hurt.

  Of course, they could make me hurt too.

  “Are there any things you could tell me about the gathering, since this will be my first time?”

  “Don’t worry. I will collect all the information you need. When you return you will have time to study. So. Now. Enjoy lunch. I will be back soon.” She exited the room and shut the door behind her.

  I helped myself to the squash soup, salad, croissants, and cheeses, the flavors both familiar and exotic. I wondered if I could get some of the spices used in the meal for the farm. Grandma would love them.

  “Tilly?” Neds voice said through the door.

  “It’s open,” I called out.

  He stepped in, wearing, I noted with just a tinge of jealousy, his own clothes.

  “Help yourself.” I waved at the table. “There’s too much for me anyway.”

  “I ate,” Right Ned said, but he came over and Left Ned popped a square of cheese in his mouth.

  “So, what happened?”

  I sighed and leaned back in my chair. “I signed House Gray.”

  “Tilly . . .”

  “I didn’t want to, but it was that or be auctioned off. All the Houses were watching.”

  “All of them?”

  “I guess not all. I didn’t see House Orange or House Gold. The rest, though.”

  “Nothing good comes out of drawing the attention of the Houses,” Right Ned said.

  “Only worse comes of signing with one,” Left Ned said. “Stupid choice, Tilly.”

  “It was the only option I had that outlined anything in my favor.”

  “What’s in the contract? What did House Gray promise you?” Right Ned asked.

  “The same as what I told you this morning. Ten years of my life for help in finding and freeing my brother and the farm staying in the family name with Grandma living there.”

  “What about House Brown?”

  “I don’t know, but I now have ten years to work on it.”

  He was silent a moment or two. So was I. I still couldn’t believe how quickly my life had changed.

  “Come into town with me,” Right Ned said. “You can break someone else’s arm. That will cheer you up.”

  I made a face at him. “I can’t. There’s a training thing the galvanized attend in preparation of the gathering. I’m going to that today. How about you? Did you decide to sign on with House Gray?”

  “Have until this evening to decide,” Left Ned said. “Thought a walk would do me good.”

  “You and I could leave now.” Right Ned’s smile was just a little too tight. “Take some time to clear our heads. We don’t have to be under the lock and key of House Gray to still be aligned with them.”

  “Why, Neds Harris,” I said, “it’s almost as if you don’t like it here.”

  “Almost is, isn’t it? But I’m serious, Tilly. We could leave. I could take us somewhere safe. I know people. People who would take you in. Take us all in.”

  There was a hint of desperation beneath his words. And I wondered if this was my chance. If I should run with him, hide with him.

  But running wouldn’t change my problems. I still had a lost brother and a vulnerable grandmother. If I reneged on my deal with House Gray, I’d just be making things worse for all of us.

  “I can’t,” I said. “Too many people I love would get hurt.”

  “There’s always another way,” Right Ned said.

  “Not this time.”

  Elwa appeared at the door. “Ah, Mr. Harris. Here you are. Is there something I can do for you?”

  “No, thank you, ma’am,” Right Ned said.

  “Was lunch satisfactory, Matilda, darling?”

  “It was delicious.”

  “Good. Oscar waits for you. Both. Go now. I’ll pack your bag.”

  Elwa marched toward the bedroom. I got up and packed my gun belt into the duffel, then shrugged the bag over my shoulder.

  “What about the rifle?” Left Ned asked.

  “It’s mine, so it goes with me.” The rifle was resting near the small couch. I plucked it up on the way out the door.

  We strolled out into the main sitting area, where Oscar Gray stood, once again, by the vast windows.

  “You wanted to see us?” I asked.

  He turned. His gaze took in Neds, me, and my rifle, and his mouth curved in a slight smile.”Yes,” he said. “Before you go, I wanted to be sure that you were satisfied with the outcome of the test this morning.”

  “About that,” I said. “I’d like to apologize.”

  “For what?”

  “It was wrong of me not to tell you I had signed the contract before I announced it to all the Houses. I don’t think I handled that as well as I could have.”

  “Apology accepted. The fallout from that particular event is already being dealt with,” he said. “The matter with House Red and the Fessler outpost continues to be . . . costly. However, I have already opened an investigation into where your brother Quinten Case may be. By our records, he was last working for House Silver. I’ll be speaking with Reeves Silver on the matter this evening.”

  “Thank you,” I said, a rush of hope taking flight in me. “Is there any way I can help?”

  “No. As soon as I have news, I will tell you. In the meantime, there is something I would like you to do for me.”

&
nbsp; I nodded.

  “I want you to remain unannounced to the general public. I don’t want anyone else to know that you are galvanized or that you are claimed by House Gray until the gathering.”

  “What does it matter, Your Excellency?” Right Ned asked. “The Houses all know about her now.”

  “House business is only part of what goes into this position, Mr. Harris,” Oscar said. “There is power to be found in bringing honor or unexpected assets into a House.”

  I frowned, not following his logic.

  He must have seen my confusion. He smiled. “I want to reveal you to the public in a very grand manner.”

  “At the gathering?”

  “Yes. It will be a moral boost for all those who claim House Gray. Since we are the caretakers of humanity, you can only imagine how many people will be excited that their House not only found a modern galvanized, but also brought her into House Gray.”

  I could see how a swell in popularity among the masses would do a lot to argue against his brother’s desire to have him removed as head of the House.

  “Did I ruin that already? With everything that’s happened this morning?”

  “Not at all,” he said. “The Houses know each other’s secrets to an extent. Still, there are certain rules of engagement that are to our mutual benefit.”

  “I promise I’ll keep the lowest of low profiles.”

  “A talent you certainly have perfected over the years,” he said kindly. “Ah, Abraham. I was just explaining to Matilda that I wish her to remain unseen during your time away.”

  Abraham strolled into the room from the other hall. “Did she agree?”

  “Of course I did,” I said.

  Abraham wore a plain cotton shirt, open in a V at the neck, but tight enough across his chest to show the muscle beneath. His sleeves were rucked up to his elbows, adding to the casual look, and along with denim jeans, boots, and a belt, he looked like a man ready for some time off. Everything about him was easy, loose, relaxed.

  And that looked all kinds of good on the man.

  I tried not to think of how good naked would look on him.

  “Of course you did,” he said with a straight face. “Is there anything else?”

  “Neds?” I asked. “Will you be staying?”