Sparked (The Metal Bones Series Book 1)

by Snow, Sheena

  My face slammed against his thin shirt, allowing me to feel the warmth of his muscles and wallow in his scent of pinecones. I grasped his shirt for balance, and his heat rushed through my fingers. My hands slid along the dips and crevices of his body. Oh no. My lips brushed against the soft, cottony fabric as I stepped back. Oh boy.

  “I . . .” I blushed, feeling the heat reach the root of my hair. “So-Sorry. About. That.” His heartbeat pounded against my fingertips, and I hastily clutched them behind my back. “I didn’t realize you could actually come to a stop like that.”

  It’s because he’s robot. That’s why. Robot!

  Electric jolts shot through my body when we disconnected, our lack of electrons trying to continue clinging to each other.

  “That’s what robots do,” he said, and the voice inside me smiled.

  Told you.

  “Right. Of course.” I shook my head.

  “Let’s talk in the room.” He guided me into the boys’ room and closed the door. The moonlight gleamed against his dark features, picking out the different tints of black in his midnight hair, showcasing his tanned skin, and the dark lines under his eyes. His broad shoulders slouched, hunching his body over. His arms crossed against his chest and his unruly hair fell in his face.

  “You look awful.”

  He laughed. “That’s what you brought me in here to say.”

  “No. Not at all. I didn’t mean it like that. I . . .” I took a deep breath. “I wanted to ask you about what happens when . . . when we touch.” I saw the muscles in his jaw tighten. “I want to know. Everything. I know there’s more to the story.”

  “You sure?”

  I was more than sure.

  “Yes.” I nodded. “I’m tired of being in the dark.”

  His face hardened, and dread plummeted in the middle of my stomach.

  Was it so bad that he couldn’t tell me? Was something wrong with me?

  “Sit.” Alec gestured for me to sit on one of the beds.

  I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and sat. This was it. This was the part where he was going to tell me that I would never be the same again. I clutched my hands in my lap.

  He sat across from me, staring at the floor, leaning his elbows on his knees.

  “I never wanted you to know,” he said.

  My toes curled in my boots. “I thought you said you wanted to tell me. The truth. About everything.”

  He shook his head. “I said that but there are some things not everyone should know.”

  “Funny.” I pursed my lips and leaned back in the bed. “That’s what the government decided about your kind.”

  He closed his eyes. “Vienna, Vienna. You know where to strike the hardest.” He sighed. “I just . . .”

  “I don’t want lies and secrets to have any part in my life. Lies and secrets only lead to more lies and secrets. And I’m done with it.”

  “This isn’t a lie and this isn’t a secret . . . It’s just something you’re not ready to know yet.”

  I snorted. “And who made you the judge of that. Who made you the judge of me?”

  “I’m not the judge of you.” He slapped his palms against his knees. “This isn’t just something about you. It has to do with me, too.”

  “Well, how convenient for you.” I stood. “That you get to make that call.”

  “Vienna.”

  “Don’t Vienna me.” I headed toward the door.

  “Damn it.”

  I didn’t even hear him. I didn’t hear the whine of springs as he got off the bed. I didn’t hear the creaks of the wooden floorboards as he made his way to me.

  I didn’t hear anything.

  But I felt everything.

  I felt the warmth of his hand as it closed around my arm. I felt my body spin. And felt the solid impact of his torso as he pinned me against his chest.

  My breath caught in my throat. Pinecones seemed to land around us. My hands came up and my fingers trailed along the curves of his muscles. Oh. God.

  “Vienna.”

  My name came out as a caress from his lips and shivers traveled down my body. His palm cupped my chin and his green eyes explored my face, taking in every detail, roaming my features, making me feel beautiful, making me feel desirable, making me feel like all he wanted in life was me.

  My legs turned into mush.

  His warm hands brushed strands of hair from my face, making me feel like they were made of silk. Everywhere he touched, everywhere he stroked, everywhere he looked, he left me feeling like gold, like some prized possession, like a gem shining in the light, like the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

  “I don’t know why it happens,” he whispered in my ear. “Some robots give off sparks of electricity when they . . .”

  “When they what?”

  “When we find the one that fits us. Completely. In every way.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Vienna.” He rested his head against mine. “You fit me. Completely.”

  I shook my head and pushed away from him. “What are you saying?”

  “The pain. The sharing of electrons. It’s all my body’s way of recognizing its match.”

  I froze, still locked in his embrace.

  “Match?”

  “You. Are. My. Match. You are my match, in every way. That’s why it hurts.” His arms dropped from around me and he backed away, the warmth of his body replaced with pain, tingling, numbing, and paralyzing pain.

  I clutched my stomach and hunched over as I waited for it to pass.

  “When we stop touching, my body loses contact with its match. With you.”

  Robot! the voice screamed, drowning everything out. He’s a robot that’s sparked his way into you. Stop it! Stop it now! Run, Vienna. Now you’re trapped to him now, for life. Get away. Get away. They are robots. Robots! Run, Vienna. Run for your life! They’ve got you and they’ve changed you. You’ll always be theirs! Run.

  And I did.

  I stumbled out the door, into a room of vibrant, happy smiling robots and my stomach heaved.

  More robots! Get away! Get out. Out the door!

  I ran.

  “Vienna. Vienna, wait.” Alec’s voice rang in my ears.

  Run! the voice shouted. Run fast. Run strong. Go. Go!

  And I did.

  I bulldozed down the porch steps and charged through the two-foot snow. Running and running.

  My heart pounded in my chest. My boots pounded on the snow. My breath pounded through my lungs.

  Branches struck my face. Roots tripped at my boots. And snow sucked down my feet.

  Further. Faster.

  I pushed and ran harder. Cold air burned down my throat.

  Run.

  I stumbled through a patch of snow and my knees burned as I tried to crawl out. Icy air bit my face.

  Move. Run—

  “Enough,” I screamed on all fours, now buried in snow. “Enough already!” I clawed at my head, trying to claw at the voice. “I know robots are bad. I know they are different.” I staggered up. “I know they are secrets. I know they are manmade. I know they are constructed. I know they are fabrications. I know. They are metal. They are electricity. They are circuits,” I screamed at the trees surrounding me. “I get it.”

  My body shook and I choked on the dry, icy air.

  “I know all the things that make them not human. But also know they have all . . . all the things . . .” My voice failed in the frost of air.

  That make them human. They have feelings. They are nice. They are caring. They are open. They are honest. They are true. They saved my life. They saved my life. They saved my parents. They care.

  “They care,” I whispered. “They care i
n more ways than a human ever could.”

  A twig snapped to my right, and I froze, surrounded by mounds of snow.

  “Who . . . who’s there?” I whispered, blood thundering through my pulse.

  Another twig snapped, and I grappled up through the snow to my feet.

  “Alec?” I whispered. “Is that you?”

  “Please.” A man stepped out from between two Christmas trees. “Enlighten me. Who is Alec?”

  “No one,” I said. I took a step backward and hit a wall of snow.

  “No one normally doesn’t have a name.”

  Chapter 21

  A gust of freezing, skin-prickling wind seared my face and my jacket fluttered in the wind.

  “What’s your name?” I asked instead.

  He walked around me and it was quiet. Still. No crunch of snow under his feet. Silent.

  Goose bumps rose along my arms.

  “I think you’ll find it more interesting that I know your name.”

  No . . .

  “Vienna,” he said, and my name hissed through the frozen air, raising the hair on the back of my neck.

  It was déjà vu. It was my dream happening all over again. My chest constricted.

  “It’s a shame, isn’t it?” He stood beside me, keeping his face out of the moonlight. “Help so close, yet so far.”

  I followed his eyes and stared at the firelight pouring out of the cabin windows.

  “You saved me a lot of trouble, you know. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to get close enough to see if you were actually in there.”

  “Why do you do it?” I asked. “Why do you help the government? Why do you do their bidding?”

  His eyes widened. “You surprise me. No one has ever asked me that question before.”

  “If you have free will, you should have free will to choose what you want and what you want to stand for.”

  He laughed. “So they told you about our kind then.”

  “Why do you let them use you when you know you have a choice?”

  “My dear.” His smile fell, both of us still looking at the quiet, happy, cabin miles away. “What is the point of choices when you know what they want will happen anyway?”

  “Because who are they to say what will happen?” My hands fisted at my sides.

  “Ah . . .” He cocked his head to the side to reveal the silhouette of a crooked nose. “I’m starting to understand why they saved you.”

  “The choice starts with you. Let me go. Make your own choices.”

  “And be the start of a revolution? My dear, I’m sorry, but I don’t think so. They are more powerful than you think. They are more powerful than you could know. There are more secrets than you could possibly imagine. And think, if they have us in their arsenal, imagine what else they have in there.”

  It was over. After all the other robots’ saving and kindness, it was done. I was going to be lost anyway.

  “How does it feel?” I gritted my teeth. “To be their puppet?”

  “Well aren’t you a little spitfire?” He circled me, like a hawk before his prey, his eyes glinting in the moonlight. He pulled out a pocket watch. He flipped it open and caressed the glass, his fingers gliding along with the ticks. “Puppets are safe. Puppets are cared for. Puppets have nothing to fear.”

  “Puppets,” I said, “have nothing to gain.”

  He grimaced. “There you are wrong. When puppets are good, when puppets behave—” He snapped his watch shut and put his watch back in his pocket. “When they behave, they get new parts, they get rewarded. And now, now the reward will be all mine.” His fingers curled in the air, and he squeezed them shut as if suffocating whatever was inside.

  I swallowed and pivoted in the snow.

  He laughed and threw his head back. “My, my, going somewhere?” He flicked open his pocket watch. “Tell me, what time is it?”

  I stared at the moving hands. “Tick-tock.” His head swayed to the motion. “Tick-tock, tick . . .” His eyes flashed. “Tock.”

  My stomach flew into my lungs. “Alec!” I shrieked and raced through the snow.

  Suddenly the world tilted. Trees were upside down, snow flew in my face, and my stomach lurched, connecting with his shoulder.

  We soared through the trees. His arm tightened, and black splotches clouded my vision, my body dangling against his back.

  Branches clawed at the ground, then the ground was the sky and the sky was the ground, the night sky replaced by snow. Air rushed against my face, the trees sped by faster, becoming less recognizable. Everything became distorted and morphed until there were no longer shapes. Only blurs.

  The robot jumped, our bodies suspended in midair, and then something rammed into the side of us. My neck flew back, my body spun through the air, and I collapsed onto a patch of snow.

  Where it was calm. Quiet. And things weren’t blurring around me.

  The snow started enclosing me, little by little, trying to engulf me into its mound.

  I moaned and closed my eyes.

  I welcomed the feel of the iciness closing around me. I welcomed the feeling of relief. I welcomed it all.

  Thunder crackled and shook the sky. The wind moaned through the trees. I opened my eyes and everything was still spinning. Everything was still moving. Everything was still turning. It was useless.

  The frosty breeze stirred my hair against my face. And I listened to snow crackling beneath my ear. I listened to the crash of metal. I listened to screech of steel twist and turn. I listened to the grunts and groans of men in battle . . . of men in battle . . . of men . . .

  My eyes shot open.

  Alec.

  I wobbled onto my legs, my head spinning, and I tumbled back to the ground, the snow crunching under my knees. I leaned on the snow and steadied my breathing. I forced one hand to slide in front of the other and I crawled toward the chaos unfolding, step by step.

  My arms lifted and my legs pushed and I dragged myself over the last mound of snow and my heart . . .

  My heart stopped.

  My mouth dropped.

  And my hands shook. On the news, you hear stories of things. Stories of things people have done. Stories that leave you shocked. Stories that take everything you know about people and twist it and mold it until you’re no longer sure what the definition of people is or if we are even people.

  You never saw it coming. Never could have imagined, that aloof, sweet person was capable of such cruelty, such destruction, such malignance. But you can only stare in shock at the proof and think, my God, are we all capable of this? Are we all capable of becoming that? Are we all already that?

  I stared at Alec, at the bloodthirsty rage on his face. I watched as Alec literally tore the robot apart, limb from limb.

  Electrical cords sizzled, twinkling, in the night air.

  The moonlight highlighted a piece of metal lying a foot away from me. I moved toward it and the thing jerked against the snow, spazzing in a way that I’ve seen only once before, when the robot in my room . . .

  I gagged and clutched my stomach.

  It was an arm.

  The robot’s arm.

  Its fingers gave one last twitch in the snow and then, as if in relief, they unfurled. Electricity sizzled at the ends of broken electric cords that jutted out from the wrist. Shredded muscles and flesh lay peeling off, above the exposed metal bone. I choked and turned away. The stench of burnt flesh invaded my lungs.

  Then something slammed against a rock, the sound ricocheting off the mountains. I looked up in time to see what was left of the robot colliding into a snow-covered boulder. Its limbs flailed in midair as Alec held it. Electricity danced out of its torn-off parts, reflecting on the surrounding snow.

  Alec slammed the robot ag
ain against the boulder and snow fell around them. The robot’s head shook and his eyes glazed over, turning black. His body shivered and then . . . everything shut down.

  He was dead.

  Alec turned.

  And my breath caught at the thunder in his eyes and the fury on his face.

  “Vienna!” he roared. His body tightened and flared like a grizzly bear in full fury.

  And through the rage, I heard the pain hidden in his voice, I heard the loss, I heard a longing, and it triggered something in me.

  A pain I had never felt before burst through my chest upon hearing his cry.

  My heart pounded against my throat and all I wanted, all I desired, was him.

  I choose.

  I choose robots.

  I ran toward him, my feet shaky, stumbling in the snow. I knew the moment he spotted me because his eyes changed. The wrath replaced with softness. The fury replaced with wonder. The tension replaced with calm.

  And my heart melted.

  The distance between us dissolved. He scooped me up, and I wrapped my arms around his neck.

  “I’m here,” I whispered, burying my head in his neck and soothing his soul. “I’m here.” I pressed my body against his, molding myself into him.

  When I met his gaze, his beautiful green eyes lightened, and my breath lodged in my throat.

  His head came down and our lips met. Sweet. Soft. Tangy.

  In that moment, it was like everything else ceased to exist. All I could think was Alec. All I could breathe was him. His pinecone scent took over. My body arched, pinning itself against him.

  It was like the world stopped moving, like the snow stopped freezing, like our hearts stopped beating. All was him.