House of Silence (Poisoned Houses Book 3)

by Lyn Forester

  For however brief our time together, I’m glad I met them, both at the disc-bike races and here in person. They’ve taught me so much in such a short amount of time together, opened my eyes to new ideas and experiences. They’ll survive together when I leave, but a crack opens in my resolve.

  I don’t want to be the anvil their emotions are tested against. Our families push us, stretch our limits, even break us to put us back together in the image they’ve imagined for us. For the first time, I realize agreeing to this unconventional relationship while knowing my future intentions makes me every bit the Caitlyn Lonette Felix fears.

  How can I let them fall in love with me, while holding pieces of my heart back, planning to break their trust in the end?

  Under Pressure

  As soon as we enter the dorms, I know I’m in trouble.

  Garrett and Nikola rise from the large table next to the snack room and move to meet Felix, Connor, and me at the base of the stairs. Nikola’s face remains impassive, while a muscle in Garrett’s jaw ticks.

  “Caitlyn.” Nikola nods to the twins as he stops in front of me. “We didn’t see you at the Dining Hall. Did you eat something? The kitchen is already closed.”

  His level voice holds no judgment, but I tense regardless at the perceived censure.

  Eyes narrowed, Felix slings an arm around my shoulders. “We grabbed some snacks and had a picnic.”

  “Sounds like fun. Maybe we can join you next time.” Garrett smiles good-naturedly. “It’s been a while since I got to sit on some grass. And being under the real suns sounds restful.”

  His easy acceptance helps me relax a little. Maybe he, at least, will ease into his new role as a student here quickly.

  “What are your plans for the rest of the night?” Nikola interjects. “Will you study? Or retire to your room?”

  I bristle at the invasive questioning. Why can’t Nikola just accept he’s not my secretary while here? He doesn’t need to match his schedule to mine.

  Garrett grips Nikola’s shoulder, giving the younger man a slight shake. “What he’s trying to say is, if you’re retiring, can we borrow your tablet? We have some catching up to do before class tomorrow.”

  Beside me, Felix stiffens, his sharp gaze fixed on my two would-be secretaries. I search his expression, unsure if this is jealousy rearing its head again or some other emotion I’ll struggle to traverse.

  After a breath, I reach for the satchel at my hip, slipping a hand into the flap. “Yes, of course. I should have offered it to you before we left the library. If I need it before tomorrow, I can borrow Myrrine’s.”

  I offer the slender device to Garrett.

  He takes it, then passes it to Nikola, who tucks it against his side without comment.

  I sweep the room in search of my roommate, surprised she didn’t linger down here after dinner. She usually likes to ensconce herself in one of the padded chairs near the back while she reviews her notes and goes over the reading material for the following day. She’s tried to get us to join her on multiple occasions, but studying really isn’t exciting.

  My attention returns to Garrett. “Did you see Myrrine after dinner?”

  “She went straight to your room.” His brow creases with concern. “I think she had a headache.”

  I glance at the stairs. “I should go check on her.”

  Felix snorts. “I wouldn’t worry. She has her bodyguard to look out for her.”

  Even so, I worry. Since rooming together, Myrrine’s never been in anything less than peak health. Did returning to APA throw her body out of whack? I don’t know enough about halion physiology to know if this is something I should speak to Archie about. As the RA, he can get her pain relief medicine Bastion might not have access to.

  I slip from beneath Felix’s arm. “I’ll just go pop in on her.”

  But instead of the stairs, I veer toward the snack room. She might like some water right now, or maybe a nutrient bar? It’s possible returning to APA’s more limited diet caused an imbalance in her system.

  Connor trails after me to grab another protein shake and a packet of natural herbs designed to boost energy. “Will you come back down?”

  I crouch in front of the fridge to dig out a jar of water. “I’m not sure. If Myrrine’s not feeling well, I don’t want to leave her alone.”

  He turns to prop a hip on the counter. “She’s never alone.”

  “You’re right.” I stare down at the cold jar in my hand, and my shoulders hunch. “It’s stupid to think she needs anything from me that Bastian can’t provide just as easily.”

  “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that.” He crouches behind me, his thighs on either side of my hips, and slips an arm around my waist. “It’s wonderful you’re concerned for her. She’ll appreciate it. I just meant, if she were truly ill, Bastian would have already fetched a physician, so there’s no need for added stress.” He rubs my shoulder with one hand. “You’ve been tense all day. I don’t want you to fall ill.”

  Closing the fridge, we rise to our feet, and I turn to face Connor. The close quarters of the room leave little space for distance, and I find myself leaning against his slender frame. “It’s difficult.”

  He sets our items on the counter before his arms wrap around me, and he strokes soothing circles across my back. “What’s difficult?”

  With a shudder, I relax fully against him, allowing him to take my weight. Of everyone, Connor puts the least amount of expectation on me, as if he, too, understands the burden we share as heirs to our houses. “Being here, being at Lonette Manor. They’re different roles, different existences, and they all feel so heavy.”

  His cheek presses against the top of my head, his silence and gentle touch encouraging me to continue.

  “At the manor, a stylist came to dress me for my appointments. He had a doll, and with a simple scan, it looked exactly like me. Down to every detail.” I tentatively reach out to grasp his waist, balling his crisp white shirt in my fists. “Its face was so empty, and sometimes, when I think about it, I wonder if that’s what I’ll be in the future. Just a doll with no thoughts of my own, no actions of my choosing.”

  His hand presses between my shoulder blades, molding me firmly to his body. “That’s not going to happen. Don’t think like that.”

  I gasp in his clean scent, wishing it could wash away the ugliness that festers inside. “I try not to. I push it down, lock it away, but what if that’s how I become empty?”

  “Hey, look at me.” He leans back, cupping my cheek to lift my head. Fierce determination chases away his usual calm. “You are not empty. You can’t keep pushing down your emotions, Caitlyn.” I flinch at my name on his lips, and his thumbs stroke my cheeks in reassurance. “Humans aren’t designed to be robots without emotion. If you keep suppressing everything, it’s a dam that can’t hold forever. Face them now before they swallow you whole.”

  Terror floods through me, and I wrench away from him. “I can’t do that. Not now, not here.”

  “Then when?”

  The calm question slices holes in my chest that allow more doubt to flood in. Snatching the jar of water from the counter, I flee the tiny space before the sense of claustrophobia takes hold. I don’t know why I showed such weakness to Connor, but I need to escape now before the full weight of my admission sets in.

  Felix, Garrett, and Nikola still wait where we left them, sentinels who bar my way to the stairs.

  I smooth the emotion from my face before they notice me, but some must still remain because Nikola steps forward, a hand out to assist.

  I step to the side, out of reach, and brush past them, my voice steady as I announce. “I’ll be retiring for the night.”

  “What time would you like to prepare for bed?” Garrett calls after me.

  “You can stay away from any preparing she does,” Felix growls.

  Light steps hurry up the steps after me, and my shoulders tighten. “Not now, Nikola.”

  “Are you okay?” His quiet q
uestion comes from directly behind me. “Did Connor do—”

  “Nothing,” I cut him off without looking back. “He did nothing. I wish to be alone.”

  Heedless of my command, his fingers brush my elbow. “You shouldn’t be alone. What if you have another panic attack? I can help.”

  “I won’t be alone.” I jerk free from his grasp. “Go back downstairs.”

  “Yes, Nikola,” Garrett commands. “Allow Caitlyn the alone time she requested.”

  I stiffen and glance back. Garrett stands only a few steps farther down from us, his steps silent on the stairs. How much did he hear? I don’t need more people knowing about my panic attacks.

  My tone comes out sharp. “I appreciate the sentiment but would like it even more if you had also listened.”

  His head bows, and he takes a quick two steps back down. “My apologies.”

  My eyes cut to Nikola, noting the slight pallor to his face.

  His hand drops back to his side. “My apologies, Caitlyn. I will see you in the morning.”

  With a stiff nod, I hurry up the remaining stairs and the short distance to my room, escaping inside.

  At my sudden entrance, Bastian lurches to his feet, his hand dropping to his hip where I imagine a weapon usually rests. While not allowed weapons at APA, I’m confident Bastian is more than capable of subduing any intruders with his bare hands.

  I shove the door shut and stride past him, throwing my satchel onto the bed. Bastian returns to his station next to the closet, his crystalline gaze fixed on the door in preparation for a new danger. Guy needs to learn to relax. He seems extra on edge since returning to APA.

  Myrrine twists in her desk chair, her feathery pink brows pinched together. “Caitlyn, are you well?”

  I set the jar of water next to her tablet. “I should be asking you that. I heard you have a headache?”

  “Oh!” Pleased pink swirls fill her cheeks. “And you came rushing to my side?”

  I frown down at her. She doesn’t look in pain. She’s acting completely like herself, the die-hard nerd. “I guess I shouldn’t have worried.”

  She lifts the chilled jar and clutches it to her chest. “I will treasure this moment.”

  “Just drink the damn water.” I flop onto my bed to stare up at the ceiling.

  The crinkle of plastic fills the room as she peels back the seal, followed by a throaty moan.

  Propping myself up on my elbows, I glare at her. “Drink it normally.”

  “Is there ever a normal way to relish a gesture of friendship?”

  My brows lift. “Not relishing is a good start. It’s just water.”

  She takes another lusty sip. “In the Riellio colonies, we gather the water from the air into reservoirs. Have you ever tasted a cloud? It is quite unique.”

  I shake my head, mystified by the idea. “The water I drink tastes like what’s in that jar. Though, sometimes it’s filtered to the point of tastelessness.”

  “Cloud water holds a metallic tang to it. Our scientists say it’s healthful for the body, that it attunes us to the planet.” Her nose wrinkles, and she takes another sip as if to wash away the idea of healthful water. “This is better.”

  I frown and sit fully upright. “Isn’t it dangerous to drink water from the sky?”

  “Hmm?” She sniffs the rim of the jar and hums happily. “No, there’s only trace amounts of toxins, which are easily nullified. The storm bringers filter out most of what’s dangerous. The true poison is in the ground.”

  “Eww, storm bringer clouds?” Now, my nose wrinkles. Little is known about the giant, gelatinous creatures besides their hunger for electricity, but they’re still living beings, with all the messy things that go along with that. “I’ll stick to the regular stuff.”

  She lets out a tinkling laugh. “When you are raised on it, it is not so horrible.”

  “Garrett said you came up here with a headache.” I nod to the tablet on her desk, its glowing screen revealing lines of text. “You seem okay, though. Did you take a pain remedy?”

  “Oh, yes, I am fine.” Her expression shutters, and she returns to her homework. “Nothing a little studying can’t remedy.”

  I examine her tense profile. “Did something happen?”

  Her lashes flutter. “Did something happen to you? Your return held a frantic feel to it.”

  “Is this what we’re doing now?” My voice comes out dry. “Deflecting attention away from yourself by asking a question of your own?”

  “It is obvious, but no less relevant.” She shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “Is it your secretaries? They are disrupting the formation of your family group. You should send them away.”

  My brows shoot up. When Myrrine and I spoke before, she seemed more understanding about Nikola and Garrett, as her own family pushes for her to choose their approved mate candidates. It surprises me she now suggests sending them home so quickly.

  “Ignore my lady, she is not thinking clearly,” Bastian rumbles. “It is not her place to say such things.”

  Myrrine twitches, but refuses to look at either of us, and Bastian’s reassurance shoots true worry through me.

  I scramble off the bed and go to Myrrine’s side, lightly resting a hand on her tense shoulder. “Did one of them say something to you? Was it Nikola?”

  Her temperature drops, her muscles turning to ice beneath my touch. “Did he say something about me?”

  “No, he didn’t.” My arm drops to my side. “But if he’s made you uncomfortable in any way, tell me, and I’ll deal with it.”

  On her desk, her hands curl into fists. “He makes me uncomfortable.”

  I step back from her in shock. While I made the offer, I didn’t actually think Nikola was inappropriate toward Myrrine. He’s pushy about me signing a contract with him, but he’s gone out of his way to make sure that every time he’s touched me it’s either clinical or friendly, but never overtly sexual.

  For all my rejections, I believed him sincere when he expressed interest in me, and discovering his subterfuge once more brings with it a bitter taste.

  A sick knot forms in my gut. “I’m sorry, Myrrine. I’ll speak with him.”

  Spinning on my heel, I hurry toward the door.

  Bastian’s hand on my arm stops me, though, and I stare at it in surprise. His large fingers completely encircle my bicep, his hold loose but unbreakable. I don’t think Bastian’s ever touched me before. He always keeps a respectful distance from everyone, even when Myrrine pokes and prods at him.

  When I peer up at the behemoth, his gaze fixes on Myrrine’s stiff back.

  My attention shifts to her as well, and some of the sick feeling eases. “Myrrine?”

  She remains stubbornly silent.

  “My lady, this is not becoming of you,” Bastian admonishes. “You will drive a wedge between Caitlyn and her family when she already struggles.”

  I pat Bastian’s hand to let him know I won’t try to leave, and he releases me with an apologetic chuff.

  Walking to my roommate’s side, I tentatively nudge her shoulder. “Myrrine, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

  In a burst of speed, she spins in her seat, opalescent arms banding around my waist. Her face shoves into my stomach, and she snuffles loudly. “Caitlyn, my flower, you smell so pleasant.”

  Her hold tightens until her arms feel like a corset, determined to squeeze the life from me.

  I shove at her shoulders, wheezing, “Myrrine...”

  She clings to me with a vise-like determination. “You are so soft, so small. If you allowed it, I would shower you with petals of love.”

  My face catches on fire, either from lack of oxygen or embarrassment. My thoughts turn hazy, my vision gray. Lack of oxygen, then.

  “My lady.” Bastian rushes to my rescue, prying Myrrine off with his superior strength. “Caitlyn is human. You will hurt her.”

  Released, I fall onto my bed, air burning in my lungs as I gasp in deep breaths.

  Myrrine’s str
icken face appears above me. “Caitlyn, I am sorry. I did not mean to hurt you.”

  “It’s okay.” I wave away the apology. “You’ve got nothing on Master Pannor’s torture devices.”

  “Who is this Master Pannor?” A storm clouds her face. “I will crush him, and he will never harm you again.”

  “He’s a stylist for the upper-class.”

  “Ah.” Her expression clears with a knowing nod. “We sacrifice much for fashion.”

  Before she gets sidetracked, I say, “Tell me what’s going on with you and Nikola.”

  “There is nothing going on between me and your secretary.” She disappears from view, and when I turn my head, I find her already back at her desk.

  “You said he made you uncomfortable.”

  “Yes.”

  “But he hasn’t done anything to you?”

  She picks up her stylus. “One does not need to take direct action to make others uneasy.”

  “So, he’s taken indirect action?” Now, I’m just left confused. If anything, from what I saw in class and at the library, Myrrine was making Nikola uncomfortable. Realization sets in. “You think he smells nice.”

  “I did not say that.”

  “You didn’t not say it.”

  Her stylus makes a ticking noise as she taps it forcefully against her tablet. “I am a lover of women.”

  Warmth heats my cheeks. “Yeah, I know that.”

  “I passed many a night with Humilia and Troscana. Our passions could set the sky on fire.”

  I push out a heavy breath. “That sounds... exciting.”

  “It was.” She spins back to face me, her eyes alight. “Humilia is a rare blossom, her fingers so nimble. And Troscana, her scent is like—”

  “We were discussing Nikola,” I remind her. I have no interest in the details of her love affairs and get the feeling she could go on for a while about her servants back at the Riellio colony.

  She turns sharply back to her desk. “He is fine. I apologize for suggesting you send him away.”