Elements (The Biodome Chronicles series Book 2)

by Sundin, Jesikah

  To his surprise, she jumped onto the table top as if it were a chair. Her legs swung back and forth like a child sitting upon a tree limb, the metal lid still hanging from her teeth. Her head tilted slightly as she regarded him, and then she pulled the lid from her mouth.

  “Here, lick it. It’s the best part,” she said in a matter-of-fact way. Coal tentatively took the lid and lifted the flexible metal up for closer inspection, marveling that she removed it with her teeth. “It’s yogurt. Seriously, just lick it off. Everyone does.”

  Not wishing to cause further offense, he followed her suggestion and gave the lid a light lick. A burst of sweet flavor greeted his tongue and he needed no further encouragement to finish off the rest.

  “I have a weakness for yogurt,” she said as her face softened a little.

  “I am fond of yogurt as well. Although, I have never tasted one so sweet.”

  “Poor you.”

  “Indeed.” Coal smiled, turning the cold apple in his hand.

  “Take a bite of the apple. It’s a honeycrisp. My absolute favorite. You’ll die when you experience the first juicy bite.” Lynden issued a look of patient perseverance when Coal hesitated. Nothing appeared as it should since he emerged, and many things were deemed poisoned or polluted. She gave him a gentle nudge on the leg with her shoe. “Come on, I don’t know even know your name. I only poison people I know on a first-name basis,” she said with a straight face.

  Was she insulting his intelligence and mocking him?

  Annoyed, he whispered, “My name is—”

  “Wait on intros!” she said with urgency, eyes wide. In a calmer voice she continued, “Take a bite first. Trust me.” She maintained a serious expression and waited patiently for him to follow her directions.

  Not sure of what to make of Lynden, or her style of interaction with a perfect stranger, he took a bite of the honeycrisp apple. The snap and juiciness were most pleasant as tart and sweet flavors filled his mouth, and he chewed appreciatively.

  “Now let’s meet.” She sighed in dramatic relief. “According to the spell, you prevented the poison by not sharing your name, which only activates with a first bite.” She gave him a bored look and the corners of his mouth lifted in a slight smile, understanding her brand of dry humor. She pulled the apple out of her pocket and took a bite and then said while chewing, “I’m Lynden Nichols.”

  “Coal Hansen,” he replied with a slight bow of his head while suppressing yet another smile.

  “By the way, I’m your Guide to Life or some dumb official title like that.” She puffed at a damp strand of blood-red hair from across her eye. “You passed the first test—surviving a honeycrisp apple.” Lynden placed her feet on the seat of the chair and against his thighs, and Coal looked down in discomfort with her familiarity. “I’m glad you’re not retarded.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Coal jerked his head up.

  “Yeah, first impressions and all that. You looked like a giant oaf out there in the rain. I seriously thought you died smiling.” Coal burst into laughter—the imagery was too rich. Her face relaxed as she studied his face, and then, as if snapping out of a trance, it quickly changed into irritation. “Who does that? Is it some Martian ritual or something?”

  “No,” he replied quickly, attempting to suppress more laughter. “Our rituals are dark and barbaric and involve blood sacrifices.”

  An ill-humored look flashed across her face, one he knew was more in jest. “Which is why you believe in poisoned apples.”

  “Naturally.”

  “What the hell were you doing then?”

  He looked around the room, suddenly feeling foolish. “I had never experienced rain until a few moments ago.”

  “Seriously?”

  He whispered, “Not real rain, My Lady.” The honorary titled slipped out even though he knew it was not used in this world. Some habits were harder to break than others.

  Lynden winced and stared at him for several heartbeats before replying, “Oh my god. How weird.”

  Shame surfaced with her response and he lowered his eyes. The apple rotated in his hands in an attempt to stay busy and contain his brewing emotions. Coal tired of being a novelty.

  She nudged his thigh again with her foot. “Hey, toughen up.”

  Coal clamped down on all comments that burned in him with her insult, and she released a sound that unhappily crossed a sigh with a groan. Lynden jumped off the table with cat-like motions and slinked onto his lap. He dropped the apple and gripped the chair’s frame as she brought her face within inches of his own. A coy smile touched her lips as she bit into her apple. A fleck of juice sprayed his cheek as the rhythmic crunch teased him. He was quite certain the veins in his neck visibly throbbed. No woman in New Eden would ever deign to such a wanton position, and all his training as a gentleman choked at how to handle such a delicate situation. Flustered, Coal looked away, but she grabbed his face and forced him to pay attention to her.

  “My culture will devour you in a nanosecond.”

  “How pleasant,” he said, risking a charming smile to mask his real feelings. Nevertheless, Coal flinched with her words.

  “You’re awesome, remember that.” She continued, harsh and bitter. “Who cares what anyone says about you? And they will talk shit. People are going to verbally destroy you, plaster your image all over the Net, say hateful things about you as if they’re fact, and you need to be indifferent. Got that? You don’t give a shit. About anything.” She removed her grip from his chin. “Why?”

  “Because I am awesome.”

  “Exactly. OK, Mr. Awesome, one more lesson.”

  She readjusted her position and straddled his lap across the chair as she pressed her body against him. He sucked in a quick breath right as her mouth unexpectedly claimed his. Every muscle stilled and every thought disarmed and he furiously attempted to regain composure. She tasted of apple and the sweetness danced across his tongue as his senses flared with temptation, especially when her hands traveled up his chest and down his arms in languid motions.

  What was he allowing?

  Coal jumped to a standing position, gently grabbing her around the waist. Lynden winced and touched her ribs for a moment and then relaxed into an aloof posture. Once they both found their footing, Coal dropped his hands and slipped behind the chair, struggling to maintain self-control.

  She gave an exasperated look. “Worse than I thought.”

  “Are you mad?” he bellowed.

  “Relax. I needed to know how much work was ahead of us.”

  “Forgive my ignorance, but when does becoming so familiar with a stranger create a baseline for work? And I wish it to be known that I would never dishonor you, nor any woman, in such a manner.”

  Lynden’s face softened with disbelief and she nibbled on her lip ring once more. “That’s kinda cute actually.”

  “Please tell me you jest.”

  “I jest,” she said in a mocking tone, rolling her eyes. “Get real. You think what I did was bad? Shit, you have no idea, do you? Did they prepare you for anything before departing your planet?”

  “How is this relevant to any life I shall endure before returning to New Eden?”

  She offered a hollow smile. “Toughen up, Mr. Awesome.” Lynden maneuvered around the chair, intentionally bumping his hip with hers while biting into her apple. “Going to change my clothes. I’ll be down in a sec.”

  He peered over his shoulder, surprised as Lynden passed a young man with wild blue, green, and white hair—the same man from the picture. Coal placed the apple on the table and angled his body to face the stranger.

  How much did the young man see?

  “I feel sorry for you,” the young man said with a straight face. Lynden’s sopping wet jacket pelted him in the head and he yelped. “You’ll rue the day you were ever born, Rainbow! Just wait and see if you don’t!”

  “Done!” she chirped from a distance and the young man laughed, kicking her jacket across the floor. Coal watched
the jacket leave a moist trail as it journeyed beneath the table, releasing a pool of water as it stilled. “So, you’re Farm Boy?” The young man casually leaned up against the door frame and smirked. “Shit, look at you. What exactly do you plow on Mars?”

  “I am not a farmhand.”

  “I know. You’re a blacksmith, Son of Fire, blah, blah, blah.” The man sniffed and walked into the kitchen area, sizing him up. “I like the nickname Farm Boy, though. So, Farm Boy it is!”

  “And what do they call you?” Coal asked, coiled and ready to strike at the slightest provocation.

  “Well, the ladies call me...” The young man slid a sly look Coal’s way as his words trailed off. “Never mind. You’re a noob. Probably your first kiss by the sounds of your manly squeals of protest.”

  Fire entered Coal’s bloodstream and he punched the young man in the face before he realized what had happened. Hanley and Dr. Nichols walked into the kitchen just as the man staggered back, cupping his nose as blood seeped through the crevices of his fingers and dripped onto the floor.

  “Shit! I think you broke my nose!” Vulgarities hissed from the man’s mouth to the floor as he leaned over, tensing his face in pain.

  Dr. Nichols lifted an eyebrow at Coal as her eyes wandered over his appearance. Heat suffused his face as puddles pooled around his feet and as blood dripped over the beautiful stone floor near the other young man’s feet. Coal’s disheveled state was shameful, as were his actions and lack of care or consideration for her home. Although Dr. Nichols was visibly disturbed, Hanley held a mildly amused smile.

  “What did you say, Mack?” Hanley asked in an unruffled tone, as if such occurrences were common.

  In a hushed reply, Dr. Nichols said, “Does it matter? Coal expressed an aggressive response, which should be evaluated further. Perhaps he is not regulating with the over-stimulation of our culture. He should sit out the press conference. I told you he should have remained at the lab one more week.”

  “My nose...!” Mack said in an exaggerated attempt to re-direct attention.

  Hanley regarded Mack for a heartbeat and then turned to his wife. “Mack said something to provoke Coal. Your project is not malfunctioning from over-exposure. And he won’t embarrass you before the world.”

  “Oh. My. God.” Mack cried out melodramatically.

  “My sincerest apologies, My Lady. I am ashamed of my behavior and disregard for your home and company. Please permit me to make amends.” Coal lowered his head and bowed.

  What was a press conference?

  “Holy shit. It was me! I deserved it. Now can someone get something for my nose?” Mack looked up and rolled his eyes at Coal, blood streaming down his hand and all over the floor.

  Dr. Nichols’ mouth set in a tight line as she flicked a glance at her husband and then walked away, the click of her tall, pointed-end shoes echoing throughout the neighboring room. Coal felt so helpless and awkward. This was his first time in another’s home outside of New Eden Township, and already he was the cause of so much distress.

  “Coal, freshen up. We have a press conference in forty-five minutes.”

  “Yes, sir. Where might I find my belongings?” He shifted on his feet, uncertain if he should travel through their home and potentially ruin other floors.

  “Mack, take a seat and keep your head down,” Hanley said, activating his Cranium. Somewhat distracted, he continued, “Your room is the second door on the left after climbing the stairs.”

  Mack looked at Coal. “Ever wanted to sleep in a coffin?”

  Coal pinched his brows together, not sure if Mack was issuing a threat or describing the bed Coal would sleep in during his stay with the Nichols family.

  “Whoa...” Lynden paled as she took in the scene, shooting a frightened look Coal’s direction. “You did this?”

  “Yes, My Lady.” His shoulders sagged as he realized the slip once more.

  How could he be so stupid?

  Mack’s comments were uncalled for and emasculating, but not worthy of a broken nose. After being assaulted by a man, this was the worst possible reaction he could have exhibited in Lynden’s home.

  “I was an ass,” Mack’s muffled voice volunteered. “Let it go, Rainbow.”

  “My temper overwhelmed my good senses,” Coal said. “It shall not happen again.”

  “Are you always trouble?” she asked. Coal shrugged sheepishly in response. Lynden followed the trail of blood to where Mack sat, and then burst into laughter.

  A droll look passed over Mack’s eyes. “It’s all your fault, kusogaki. Why the hell did you tell him to toughen up?”

  “Whatever,” she snorted as she tried to hold in more laughter. “Next time, kiss him instead of pissing him off. Maybe he prefers men over women.” She winked at Coal and laughed once more, but sobered as soon as she noted the disapproval on her father’s face. “Oh, don’t give me that look.” She batted her eyes and moved her body to appear angelic and innocent.

  Dr. Nichols returned with a rag, went to the giant metal box and retrieved ice cubes, and placed the bundle in Mack’s hands. “A doctor should arrive within the hour. Mackenzie Ferguson, you are a mess. Have you learned anything from this experience?”

  “Yeah, don’t mess with aliens. They’ll kick your ass.”

  “Or perhaps diplomacy is a skill an Elite son and heir, such as yourself, should employ more often?”

  “I can behave,” Mack said in a serious tone, almost indignant.

  “The words ‘I’ and ‘behave’ have never paired well together in your life.” Dr. Nichols smiled, amused.

  “Oh please,” Lynden said. “Mack just needs to lick his wounds and tuck his tail, not receive a counseling session.” Lynden looked at the bloodied man and cooed in a syrupy voice, “Don’t ya little fella?” The young man glared playfully at Lynden and made a gesture using his middle finger, and a satisfied grin lightened Lynden’s features momentarily.

  Dr. Nichols’ mouth formed a tight line once more. “Please listen for the front door. I need to finish getting ready for the press conference.”

  “I am most sorry for the mess I have made,” Coal said, as a puddle continued to pool and dribble around his feet, and Dr. Nichols halted her retreat. “Please allow me to clean it up once I have changed. Simply instruct where I may find usable rags.”

  “Thank you for your offer, but no need. Rosa will care for our floors. I have already summoned her.” Dr. Nichols offered a small, distracted smile––her lips painted red––as she smoothed the front of her form-fitting black dress. She was still the most beautiful woman Coal had ever seen. He rolled his gaze toward Lynden, who watched her mother carefully, noting every nuance, before lowering her eyes with a look of disgust.

  Coal let out a heavy breath and shifted on his feet, feeling awkward once more, when he lurched forward. Lynden yanked on his belt with a wry grin and the belittling treatment ignited his irritation. “Please excuse me,” he said hastily as he moved forward at Lynden’s behest once more.

  “Come on, Mr. Awesome.” Lynden pulled tightly.

  He smiled politely as he passed his hosts, averting his eyes toward the ivy climbing the stone wall along the stairwell. Never had a woman touched his belt, let alone led him toward private chambers by one, which nearly made him laugh at such absurdity—as a woman had never climbed into his lap and kissed him before either.

  His nerves increased with each step. A solid blue strand of hair that limply lay against the back of Lynden’s head caught his attention. Her shoulder moved as her arm swung, causing her undershirt to shift. The small sleeve slipped down her arm and exposed the fair skin of her shoulder blade, sprinkled with tiny freckles. He began to turn his head away when a tattoo of a red dragon with yellow eyes stared at him briefly before it disappeared beneath the folds of her garment, peeking at him once more with another swing of her arm. The dragon continued to taunt him with each step, conjuring a memory of the day Hanley asked him to guard his daughter after telling the dra
gon story. Unease trickled through Coal’s body, but he did not know why.

  At the top of the stairs, she stopped and unwrapped what appeared to be a bandage that wound up her forearm. He had seen others with strange wrappings on their arms and legs and concluded it was fashion, not injuries. The white fabric dangled in the air as she slowly turned her head with a serious expression and he swallowed.

  “Close your eyes,” she said in a grave tone. He knew better than to question her after their previous interactions and so he obeyed, even though he did not relish the loss of control over something as mundane as seeing one’s bedchamber. She must have sensed his anxiety. “You can’t look at the black hole until you’ve jumped inside of it.”

  “What would happen should I see this room prior to jumping inside of it?” He flinched when he felt Lynden touch his face with the fabric.

  “You don’t want to know. There’s a reason it’s called the coffin.”

  “How tragically ominous.”

  She leaned against him until her warm breath pulsed on his neck as she wrapped the fabric around his eyes in several layers. Coal made his mind concentrate on breathing normally and not the discomfort of being led toward the unknown or of a young woman’s body pressed against him.

  His mind traveled to images of Oaklee and he pondered their kiss in the Cave, imagining it was her hands upon his face and not Lynden’s. Homesickness was a word he learned this week as his heart sunk with yearning for the faces, voices, and sights of his past as he continued to interact with his future. He missed the musical sound of Oaklee’s voice, her smile, the atmosphere of her presence, her wit, and the graceful ways she used her hands.

  Did she miss him?

  They had never been separated like this, and he felt as though a large piece of his self had been carved out of his soul. Yet, as each day passed, he pondered more and more Oaklee’s resistance to his romance.

  Could she perhaps be right, that they were better off as friends rather than lovers?

  Did he cling to her out of fear of losing that friendship, should she marry another?

  Did he really want her to love him merely as a result of his persistence?