House of Silence (Poisoned Houses Book 3)

by Lyn Forester

  “My lady kept me on my toes,” he rumbles.

  “I’m sure she did!” He waves at Myrrine. “Hey, welcome back.”

  She flutters her fingers in response. “You, as well, Archie.”

  “So.” He claps his hands together and turns back to Nikola and Garrett. “We need to find you guys a room and a set of uniforms. The first won’t actually be that hard. We don’t have as many students this semester as graduated last year, which leaves us with space. Unfortunately, none of the available rooms are close to the communal bathroom.”

  Garrett’s brows lift at that, but this time, he stays silent. Didn’t they share a bathroom at their school? Did he expect APA to be more luxurious? Boy will he be in for a surprise.

  “But, first”—Archie holds up a finger—“let me show you the snack room. Everyone loves it.”

  I resist the urge to roll my eyes. No, everyone does not love it. We all wish it had actual snacks and not more veggies and fruit like what the cafeteria serves. Even the protein shakes are unflavored. Felix practically had a meltdown when he realized how tight their restriction is on sugar. APA believes in education of the mind and body, which means adhering to clean eating.

  As I trail behind the three men, Nikola glances back. “Caitlyn, why don’t you adjourn to your room and settle in? We can manage to stay out of trouble while you’re gone.”

  “Don’t worry.” Archie grins. “I’ll keep a close watch on them. All part of the RA job.”

  “If you’re sure...”

  Myrrine grabs the back of my waistband. “He’s sure. Come on!”

  Relieved for the reprieve, I let Myrrine pull me to the stairs that lead up to the second floor. At the top, she turns to the left, and we walk the short distance to our room. Bastian enters first while we wait in the hall, lest assassins lay in wait for us.

  Myrrine and I exchange amused glances.

  APA is the safest place for us. Everyone who enters must pass through the administration building, where hidden cameras set for face and voice recognition alert security to everyone who passes the wrought-iron gates into the grass field. Even if someone made it past the first line of defense, the wide-open expanse of grass that separates the admin building from the school leaves people exposed for further scanning.

  Anyone not on the pre-approved list will be flagged and dealt with before they ever make it to the school.

  Bastian returns to the entrance. “All is as we left it.”

  As soon as he steps to the side, Myrrine runs in.

  I follow at a slower pace and find her sprawled across her twin sized bed. One slender leg dangles off the side.

  She throws her arms over her head to block out the light that comes from the faux-window over our desks. “I missed my human mattress.”

  I pause at the foot of her bed to stare at her. “You don’t have mattresses in the colony?”

  “No, we have sleeping mats.” She waves a languid hand toward the closet where Bastian sleeps.

  Through the open door, I spot his thick mat rolled against one wall, his blanket and pillow on top. I assumed the school provided it as a concession to his presence here.

  My gaze lifts to the shelf at the top of the closet, which holds a second mat. I always wondered why he didn’t use both, but chalked it off to his warriorness. Bastian’s not a man who needs the comfort of a double-thick pad.

  Bastian settles on the floor in the narrow space that divides my side of the room from Myrrine’s, his back against her bed. “You will grow soft and lose your posture. Then all the maids will run away from you.”

  “You’re an evil man.” She pushes the back of his head, mussing the sleek perfection of his braid. “How dare you play on my vanity.”

  Hidden from Myrrine’s view, his stoic face breaks into a smile. “Troscana will ask for a transfer, unable to stand the sight of your sloped shoulders.”

  She bolts upright. “That’s not true.” Then her gaze finds me, and she relaxes once more. “Caitlyn has perfect posture, and she sleeps on a mattress all the time.”

  Bastian studies me, too. “Caitlyn stretches. She is an exception, not the rule.”

  I blush, surprised he caught me performing my calisthenics. I tried to sneak them in while Myrrine showered in the mornings. Until coming to APA, the stretches were part of my morning routine, assisted by my personal maid. But the small room limits what I can do, and my diligence slacked off.

  Myrrine peers over at me. “You stretch?”

  “I try to.” Settling on the center of my bed, I pull my legs up to leave Bastian maximum space. “At home, there’s an exercise sphere for running, but I hate using it.”

  “Exercise is a sweaty pastime.” She shudders delicately. “But perhaps you can show me these stretches?” Her gaze cuts to the back of Bastian’s head. “I would hate to develop sloped shoulders.”

  “I’m not sure mattresses actually cause poor pos—” I cut off at Bastian’s scowl of disapproval. “Yeah, sure, we can do stretches together, but it’s difficult in here.”

  She glances around the room. Between our twin-beds, matching desks, and the short dressers at the foot of our beds, not much space remains. Then she brightens. “We should put our beds together.”

  I blink at her, unable to follow her thought process. “What?”

  “We can rearrange the room!” She swings her legs over Bastian and leaps to her feet in excitement. “If we put the beds together and move the desks, it will provide more space near the closet for stretching!”

  She lifts one side of her bed easily, and Bastian grumbles in displeasure. “My lady, please. Not everyone is as comfortable sharing a sleeping mat as you are.”

  She freezes, bed still a foot off the ground, before peering over her shoulder. “Caitlyn, would you not like to share a bed?”

  The last time I fell asleep with Myrrine in the same bed, I woke up to her sprawled on top of me. I shake my head. “I’m used to sleeping alone.”

  The bed drops back to the floor with a forlorn thud. “But did you not share sleeping space with your secretaries? Did I misunderstand how that works for the Lonette family?”

  “You didn’t misunderstand.” I wrap my arms around my knees. “But I haven’t signed a contract with either of them. It’s not something I’m ready for right now.”

  Or ever. But I keep that last thought to myself.

  She nods glumly. “I, too, am having a difficult time choosing my malnupti. The ones I desire are... not appropriate. The ones who are acceptable do not interest me.”

  My voice softens. “Because they’re all men?”

  “None smell as sweet as my Troscana.” Her blue eyes find mine. “Or as you, for that matter. It makes things more... difficult.” Unhappy blue swirls in her cheeks. “Do you find Nikola and Garrett pleasant to the senses?”

  “I’ve never thought about it.” I tuck my chin into the dip between my knees, before admitting, “I don’t want to find them appealing. I’ve known Nikola since I was born, and the expectation was always there for us to... And I’ve been aware of Garrett for some time, though we interacted far less frequently.”

  She lifts a brow in question.

  “His grandfather is my grandmother’s secretary. He visited the house a few times.”

  “Ah.” She nods. “So, they are like siblings to you.”

  My brow furrows. “No, they’ve never once felt like siblings.”

  When she stares at me in confusion, I struggle to put words to it.

  “Nikola and I were always aware we weren’t related. The time we spent together was supervised, either by a tutor or one of the maids. And when I interacted with Garrett, it was in passing. He was more of a presence off in the distance while I visited with Grandmother.” I shake my head. “I can’t even imagine what it would feel like to have a sibling.”

  “Intrusive,” Myrrine supplies. “And often horrifying.”

  “Your hatch-mates are not monsters, my lady,” Bastian admonishes.

/>   She kicks him none-too-gently in the shoulder. “Matthian put glue in my hair, and I was bald for a year!”

  He barely shifts beneath her abuse. “After you dipped his hair in ink.”

  “After he put Petro on a pole and paraded him around the rock garden!”

  My mouth drops open in shock. “Who’s Petro, and is he okay?”

  “He was my lady’s stuffed sky skipper.”

  “Traitor of secrets.” She kicks him again, harder.

  He leans forward an inch. “It’s not a secret when you already revealed it.”

  She leaps from her bed to mine in a graceful pounce. “Caitlyn, do not think less of me. I was very young.”

  “Fifteen,” Bastian coughs loudly.

  She pulls my hands from my legs to clasp them to her breast. “A very young fifteen. And it no longer bothers me.”

  Unable to help myself, I laugh. She looks so serious, as if such a small thing will turn me against her. But when she droops with sadness, I force the amusement away. “It’s okay. I have my own share of comfort objects.”

  She squeezes my fingers. “Really?”

  “Yeah, of course. Though I had to hide them from my father.” I pull free of her gasp to kneel on the edge of my bed and pull my carry-on out from under it.

  I hid the small duffle bag there when I first arrived and haven’t looked at it since. The school provides everything we need, so there was little use for the outfits Father insisted I bring. And with Bastian taking up the closet, I left everything packed.

  Now, I drag it up onto the bed and unzip it to reveal a starry blanket. I reach in and caress one tattered corner. “In one of her more affectionate moments, Nikola’s mother, Nadine, gifted this to me. It was one of the few items not approved of by my father.” I peek at Myrrine, whose attention fixes on the blanket. “I used to think Nadine acted as my surrogate, and this was some sign of that.”

  Now, Myrrine’s attention shifts to me. “But she did not?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “My father would never have allowed that kind of inconvenience. I doubt she was even allowed to carry Nikola.”

  Her hand lifts, fingers plucking at her pink hair. “Humans are amazing. We would have so many more children if we could use surrogates.”

  It amazes me, sometimes, the different ways our minds work. What I see as a downfall, Myrrine views as an achievement in genetic excellence.

  While halion physiology is very close to humans, their reproductive cycle differs. They have four cycles a year during which they’re fertile, and they carry their eggs for only three months before birthing them, at which point they go into some kind of incubator until full gestation.

  Technically, it would allow them to quickly outpace the human population, but halion women have a harder time becoming pregnant, and the men far outnumber the women, leading to an imbalance in their race. The way Myrrine explained it, it’s part of why their people practice malnupti, or multi-partner relationships. For maximum chance at reproduction and to even out the male to female dynamic.

  It also makes the desire for females high, which is why they’re rarely let out of the colonies and why I was forced to accept sharing quarters with Myrrine’s bodyguard.

  There are enough male halions at school to put Myrrine at risk. She can’t crush them as easily as she can crush a human male whose attention she rejects. Not that I’ve seen her approached by any of the halion men. They’re all in the upper classes, and our schedules don’t intersect with theirs. And in the cafeteria, Bastian’s presence is more than enough to discourage anyone from approaching.

  Myrrine nibbles her lip for a moment before she asks, “Nikola is the son of your father’s secretary. Does that not make him your brother?”

  I rear back, horrified. “No!”

  “But...” Her hand pats her shoulder, as if in search of her braid, before it drops back to her lap. “Maybe I don’t understand the Lonette secretary. I did not think... liaisons would be permitted?”

  “No, the secretary and councilor are exclusive.” Which make Nikola’s offer to arrange meetings between me and the guys all the more shocking. “My grandmother designed my conception, choosing donor eggs screened through a special genetics company to combine with my father’s DNA. She would have arranged for the surrogate who carried me, as well.”

  Her head tilts to the side, and even Bastian shows a glimmer of interest. “Your father didn’t choose who his genes would be combined with?”

  “No.” My hands tighten on my duffle bag. “My father will design the next Lonette line, as I will design the one after. It keeps power in the family... more even.”

  “Humans truly are amazing.” Myrrine tentatively reaches out to stroke my blanket. “Do the stars have meaning?”

  I stare at the blanket for a moment before my mind gets back on board with our previous conversation. “It’s the constellation the holo-sky puts over Lonette Manor.”

  “There are so few.” Her finger brushes over a cluster that resembles a funnel of stardust. “Why aren’t there more?”

  “I think the panels are set to emulate what historians believe Earth’s solar-system will look like, should we ever return.” When her hand drifts close to where my folding-port hides beneath the blanket, I gently move it away to rezip the bag. “I far prefer being able to see the stars of this solar-system. I was surprised how many there were the first night here.”

  Myrrine lies down, her head on my pillow and her knees curled next to my hip. “You should see them from the Riellio Colony. At night, they reflect off the glass spires and make the whole city a star-scape.”

  “That sounds beautiful.”

  She hums a quiet agreement, then covers a yawn. “The day has been long.”

  I shift a little to drop the bag back to the floor, then use my heel to push it back into hiding. “Did you not sleep at all on the flight back?”

  Eyes drifting shut, she shakes her head. “No, I was too excited to return.”

  She speaks of her home with such reverence I don’t know why she would want to leave. But from past conversations, I know her family is difficult to be around, and not for the youthful pranks exchanged as children.

  A quiet coo escapes her parted lips, followed by a soft snuffle.

  Alarmed, I nudge her shoulder. “Myrrine? Go back to your own bed if you’re going to sleep.”

  She releases another coo in response. It brings with it a comforting sense of safety, and exhaustion drags at my own eyes. I can’t remember the last time I slept without one eye on the door that connected mine to Nikola’s.

  It really is good to be back.

  The Challenge

  The next morning, I rush through getting ready, glad I don’t run into either Garrett or Nikola in the bathroom, but sad when I also miss Felix and Connor.

  The twins messaged me late last night that they arrived and would see me down in the cafeteria, but I held out hope to run into them earlier.

  When I return to my room, showered and hair frizzy from the sanitizer, I give in to Myrrine’s insistence that I allow Bastian to tame my wild curls. Impatience pushes at me to run to the cafeteria, but propriety says I need to be decent before I leave the room. Even so, I fuss through the entire process, my knee bouncing with the need to move.

  When a knock comes at our door, my heart leaps with hope. Bastian ignores it long enough to tie off my braid, and I spring out of my desk chair to shove my feet into my shoes while he goes to answer it.

  Myrrine, still shirtless, finally selects one of the white button-ups indistinguishable from the others in her dresser and slips it on. Her hair, plaited into two thick braids, lays across either shoulder and ends in twin puffs of pink at the ends.

  A moment later, Bastian returns. “Your men are waiting in the hall.”

  Myrrine releases an irritated sigh. “Then let them in.”

  “No.” His clipped reply comes with a firm frown, which she ignores.

  “That’s okay, I’m ready
anyway.” I grab the satchel off the back of my chair and slip it over my shoulder as I head for the door. Myrrine’s still half-clothed form catches my attention, and I pause. “Unless you’d like me to wait for you?”

  “No, go on.” She waves a distracted hand toward the door. “You are eager. I will not hold you longer.”

  I bite my lip, unsure, but the need to reunite with Connor and Felix outweighs my desire to be a good friend. “I’ll see you in the cafeteria.”

  With a nod for Bastian, I run to the door and fling it open, bracing for Felix’s attack.

  Instead, I find Nikola and Garrett on the other side, wearing matching first-year uniforms. The white shirt somehow manages to show off Nikola’s slender lines while also enhancing Garrett’s broader build, and their matching slacks fit as if tailored for them.

  Nikola tucks his palm-port away as I step out into the hall, his gaze flickering to my hair with a small frown. “If you will tell us your standard routine for the morning, we will endeavor to match ours so that we may still make you presentable.”

  I lift a self-conscious hand to my hair. While Bastion lacks Nikola’s skill with hairdressing, I thought he did a respectable job, especially on short notice. He’s used to Myrrine’s cotton candy hair, so he wrangled my loose curls with ease. “Bastian doesn’t mind.”

  “Bastian is Myrrine’s servant,” Garrett points out. “We are yours.”

  “Actually, you’re my peers while here, not my servants.” I glance down the hall toward Felix’s and Connor’s room, but find us alone in the hall. Reluctant, I turn to the staircase in the opposite direction. “You don’t need to come escort me to meals or arrange your schedules to match mine.”

  Garrett takes up the position on my right. “But Dean Koffman put us under your supervision.”

  On my left, Nikola matches his pace to mine. “Please bear with it until we’re fitted with our school bands. I would hate for one of us to step unknowingly out of line and have it reflected back on you.”

  But the entire goal of returning to APA was to be away from these two. How will I function with them hovering around me all the time?