Maybe I wasn’t the best judge. If no one else thought he was acting strangely, and since they all seemed comfortable with him, I had to assume that was true, then it must just be the way he was.
I stopped next to the game table, behind Abraham’s shoulder. He tipped his hand and thumbed the cards so I could see them.
A pair of twos and nothing else.
“Want the next hand?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said. “What are we betting?”
“Favors,” Welton said.
“It’s flexible,” Dotty said. “Since you’re House Gray, you can bet Abraham’s money.”
“Hey, now,” he said. “Don’t go promising my pocket, Dotty.”
She chuckled and won the pot on three aces.
Abraham shook his head and pushed away from the table toward the kitchen. “And you all think I cheat.”
“What did you have in the pot, Bram?” she asked.
“Must be something good.” Loy winked at me and took a drink of beer.
“One free month of workforce on one job,” Abraham said, “fifty people or fewer.”
She plucked a piece of paper out of the pile she’d gathered up. “No, honey, you promised me one free month of workforce on one job, two hundred people or fewer. And I know Feye Green is gonna be happy with that one.”
“Oh, I’ll win it back,” he said.
She grinned at me. “It’s cute when he thinks he’s in my league.”
Welton laughed. “None of us are in your league.”
Helen return from her walk, settling on the couch across from Wila and Bede.
Robert crossed the room and stopped next to me.
“Matilda,” he said, “I would like a moment with you, please.”
“I think I’m in the next hand,” I said.
“It is important.”
He’d helped Abraham bring us to the city undetected. I supposed I could give him a minute or two of my time.
“Sure, all right. I’ll catch the next round,” I said.
“Suit yourself,” Dotty said.
Robert led me out of the room and down the hallway toward my bedroom. I stopped midway between the living area and the darker reaches of the hall.
He might be Abraham’s friend, but I did not know the man.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” I asked.
“You will come with me to someplace more”—he glanced at the living room behind me with disdain—“private.”
There was something really off with him. Sure, I didn’t know him all that well, but every instinct in my body was screaming that something was wrong. Really wrong. And, sure, I could take care of myself in a fight, but I was not dumb enough to go somewhere private with a man I’d barely met when my instincts were pushing the needle to red.
“Actually, I’m very tired,” I said. “Apologies, Robert, but I’m going to say my good nights and go to bed now.”
I took a step to move past him, and he reached out and grabbed my hand.
“You go nowhere without my permission, stitch,” he snarled.
26
This, now, is something even the Houses do not know. The Wings of Mercury experiment did more than create the galvanized. It altered time, but not in the way Alveré Case had predicted it would.—2184
—from the journal of L.U.C.
“If you don’t let go of my arm, I will break yours,” I said calmly.
“You dare—”
“Robert,” Welton called out. “We’ve dealt you a hand. Come on over before we decide your antisocial behavior is because you’re trying to hide something. We have ways to get you to talk, you know.”
He squeezed my arm a little harder before letting go. “We will speak tomorrow, after you have rested.”
“Sure,” I said.
No way in hell.
He walked away and I stood there taking ten or thirty breaths to tie down my anger.
He had threatened me. He had treated me like something he owned, called me stitch.
I didn’t care that he was Abraham’s friend. He was not mine.
I strode down to the bedroom, locked the door, then took a shower, letting heat and water wash away the anger in me. I quickly toweled off, dried my hair, and slipped into the silky gray nightgown I found in my luggage. Just in case, I placed my boots right by the bed, easy to get into, and my revolver on top of the quilt next to me. I wrapped my arm through the duffel.
If I had to run in the middle of the night, I’d be ready.
Even though I was tired, my thoughts raced. It might have been rude of me not to tell everyone I was going to bed for the night, but manners be damned. I wanted as far away from Robert, January, and Helen as I could get. Hell, right now I wanted as far away from here, and anything that had to do with galvanized and Houses, as I could get.
But we still hadn’t found Quinten.
“Tilly,” a voice whispered.
I opened my eyes and stared straight ahead, shocked into stillness, fear sweat prickling across my face and chest. Someone was in my room. The thin blue light coming in through the window meant it was already dawn.
I had fallen asleep.
“Tilly,” the voice whispered again by the partially open window.
Someone wasn’t in the room; they were just outside it.
I rolled over and sat in the same motion, grabbing up my revolver, aiming straight at the voice.
Standing just outside the open window with the rising light at his back was a familiar two-headed figure.
“Je-hellzus, Matilda,” Left Ned said, backing away from the window. “Put the damn gun down.”
“Did you get my message?” I set the gun on the quilt and pushed out of bed. I shoved feet into boots and crossed to the window.
“Yes,” Right Ned said. “And your brother . . . he’s not safe. But I have an idea on how to get to him.”
“Let me get Abraham. Hold on a second.”
“No,” Left Ned said. “You need to come with us. Now. You’re not safe here. Grab your stuff.”
“If I leave, I’ll lose my standing with House Gray. Some other House can claim me and my land, and Grandma might not be safe. Have you talked to Boston Sue?”
“Just”—Right Ned held out his hand—“trust me, Tilly. I promise you I can make this all right.”
I hesitated. Leaving wouldn’t go over well with House Gray. Or Abraham. But if Neds knew where Quinten was and how to help him, well. . . . I’d deal with the fallout after my brother was safe.
“Get in here.” I pushed the window open so he could step up into the room. “Let me change.” I grabbed my duffel and jogged into the bathroom to get into my pants and shirt.
This was a stupid idea. Oscar wasn’t going to be happy about it. But if Neds and I brought my brother back to House Gray, he’d take us in, wouldn’t he? Quinten was still claimed by House Gray.
If House Gray wouldn’t take me or Quinten, some other House would want us. Who would be powerful enough to claim us? Welton?
No, forget that. If my brother and I were together again, we’d just disappear. Fall so far off the radar even House Brown wouldn’t know where we were. We’d stayed hidden for years. We could do it again.
But what would happen to Grandma?
I finished getting dressed and strapped the duffel over my shoulder. “Okay,” I said, walking out of the bathroom. “Let’s—”
Robert stood in the middle of the room. He had a gun in his hand. A gun pointed at Neds.
“What is this mutation doing here?” he said.
“Mutation?” Left Ned said.
“He’s a friend, remember?” They’d met in the parking garage. How could he forget that?
“That’s not Robert, Matilda,” Right Ned said quietly.
??
?What?”
Robert lifted the gun even with Right Ned’s head. “Leave. Immediately.”
“Tilly,” Right Ned said. “I promise you, I’m not crazy. Please listen to me.”
“You have made a very poor decision in coming here,” Robert said.
“Whoa, hold on,” I said. “Just settle down. We don’t need a discharge of weapons to settle this. I’m not going anywhere. Neds are leaving.”
I slowly walked over until I was standing between Neds and Robert.
Neds were holding very still but hadn’t raised his hands. If his habits remained true, he had a couple weapons stashed on his body.
This could go so very bad so very quickly.
“Tilly,” Ned said.
“There is no fight here,” I said. “Nothing is wrong. Do you understand me, Robert? Everything is all right.”
“And why,” he asked, taking his eyes off Neds for just a moment to look at me, “do you think I would listen to you?”
The chill behind those words was enough to stop me cold.
I was standing so close he could touch me. Which was hopefully close enough that I could stop him from firing that gun on Neds.
He turned the gun on me.
Oh, hell, no.
I grabbed his wrist and swept his foot. The gun fired.
“Go,” I yelled to the Neds. “Get out of here.”
Robert swung at my head.
I ducked, holding on to his hand and twisting his arm to make him drop the gun.
He yelled, because, hey, one of us was used to feeling things like pain, and that was me. The other one of us had spent years without any sensation.
The gun dropped. He tripped up my feet, and we tumbled to the floor. I hit my head on something, maybe the footboard of the bed, and twisted away from him.
He was shouting nonstop, though I was only catching about every third word.
“Bitch . . . will do as I say . . . own you . . . use you . . . throw you away.”
I scrambled onto hands and knees, looking for that damn gun, spotted it the same time he did, and kicked it under the bed and out of both of our reach.
I dove for my revolver, pulled it up, and swung it his way.
That’s when I realized the room was full of people.
“The hell happened?” Abraham yelled.
“. . . okay, Matilda?” Dotty asked.
I was shaking and the slick heat of blood coated my throat. Maybe I’d gotten a little more banged up than I thought.
“You’re all right,” Abraham said, walking toward me with his hands up. “Put down the gun, Matilda. This won’t be solved with bullets.”
Yeah, I thought that a minute ago too. Changed my mind.
“Matilda.” Abraham touched my shoulder gently, his voice calm. “Don’t shoot him.”
Robert was already being escorted more than firmly out of the room by Buck and Loy.
Dotty and Helen remained in the room with Abraham and me. Helen was looking out the window.
“Was there someone else here?” Dotty asked.
I glanced at the blood on the floor. Maybe mine. Maybe Neds.
“No one out there,” Helen said. “You want to try to explain this?” She turned her scowl on me like this was my fault.
“She’ll explain in front of Welton,” Abraham said. “I don’t want any misunderstanding or contention in this.” He was back to using his official, I-will-be-obeyed voice.
Helen nodded, and she and Dotty left the room.
I sat on the edge of the bed, feeling a little woozy.
“What happened?” He walked into the bathroom and came back with a white washcloth, which he pressed against my temple.
“Ow,” I said.
“Sorry.” He backed off the pressure a bit. “What happened?” he repeated.
“Robert came in here with a gun is what happened.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. He’s your crazy friend. You ask him.”
“Is that all that happened?”
“Neds were here.”
“And?”
“And he wanted me to leave with him. He knows where Quinten is.”
“Is he still here?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Okay. We’re going to settle this in front of Welton. He’s head of a House and can absolve you both of any wrongdoing.”
“Robert pointed a gun at me. He tried to shoot my friend.”
“If this goes public before the gathering, it will negate our claim and paint you as dangerous.”
“I hate this,” I said, wincing at the throb of pain in my head. “Threats and rules and whatever the hell his problem is, isn’t my problem.”
He placed both palms gently on my arms. “Welton is a fair mediator. He’ll settle this. Then you and I will leave, find Neds, and find your brother.”
“We can do that?” It came out a little more hopeful than I’d wanted.
“It’s our day off. We can spend it any way we want.”
“Good. Let’s get this out of the way and go.” I pulled the cloth away from my head and strode out of the room. I was bleeding, but I didn’t think I was concussed. Yes, I left the gun behind. Right now I’d be too tempted to use it.
“There you go again,” Welton said when I walked in. “Adding excitement to our otherwise boring lives.”
He sat on the couch and hadn’t changed out of his jeans and snail T-shirt. It looked like he’d just woken up. He also sounded a little drunk. “Do tell your side of the story first, Matilda.”
Bede walked over and offered me a glass of water. “Is your head okay?” she asked.
“It’s fine. Thanks.” I gulped the water to get rid of my dry mouth and raw throat.
“Do you want to sit?” she asked.
“I’d rather not.”
“Please,” Welton said again to me. “Begin.”
Foster stood behind Welton’s couch, the burning red of his gaze focused on Robert, who sat in a chair, Loy and Buck standing guard on either side. Everyone had changed into pajamas or more comfortable clothing except Foster and Welton. The sun broke the horizon and yellow light poured through the east windows.
“Neds were in my room,” I started.
“What’s a Neds?” Welton asked.
“Ned Harris. My farmhand,” I said. “You offered him popcorn on the street yesterday.”
“Two-headed chap?”
“Yes.”
“Got it. Go on.”
“He asked me to leave with him. I was getting dressed when Robert broke into my room with a gun.”
“Lies,” Robert said.
“Not your turn to speak,” Welton said around a yawn. “But there was a gun fired in this home—your gun, I believe. We need to settle that—between Houses, if needed—before we deal with anything else.”
He pushed up off the couch and scrubbed his fingertips over his scalp, pulling his bangs back and shaking them, then letting them fall in a mess. “Coffee?” He shuffled to the kitchen, poured himself a cup, and looked over at me.
“No. What more do you need to know?”
He held the pot up toward Robert. “Rob? Coffee?”
Robert frowned and gave Welton a look of complete distaste.
“What crawled up your ass today, Robert?” Welton asked with a chuckle. “Has Slater been using you as a pillory boy again?”
“I was simply trying to keep Matilda safe from the intruder,” Robert said. “I had no intention of using deadly force.”
“Which is why you took your nondeadly gun into the room with you?” Welton asked. “I am assuming you’re not going to deny that you had the gun. Is this correct?”
“Yes. To defend Matilda from that . . . shortlife.”
Welton ra
ised his eyebrows as he took a gulp of coffee. “And I see you’ve picked up Slater’s bigotry too. You really should trade up, man. Come on over to House Yellow. I’m sure Foster would love a fellow galvanized to play with.”
Foster was pacing the perimeter of the room. He grunted once, which made Welton grin.
“All right, Matilda,” Welton said. “Anything else? Spare no detail.”
“Neds asked me to leave with him. He said I was in danger, and then Robert came through the door with a gun. He threatened to shoot Neds. I stood in the way of his shot, kicked him, twisted his arm to make him drop the gun.”
Buck, who hadn’t taken his eyes off Robert said, “There are no guns allowed here. No weapons allowed, ever. You know that. Why in the world would you bring one with you?”
“I was concerned about Matilda’s safety.”
“And why would that be?” Welton asked.
Robert just glared at him. “Some matters remain within House.”
“That’s a dick reply,” Welton said with a grin. “All right, let’s declare someone guilty of something, mete out a price, and get moving. Robert Twelfth. Did you enter Matilda Thirteenth’s room with intent to do her or her House harm?”
“No, I did not,” he said.
“Matilda Thirteenth, do you wish to dispute his claim to innocence?”
I glanced at Abraham. He shook his head slightly.
“No. Is this done now?”
Welton held up one finger, so I waited.
“As House Yellow, I declare this a nonevent, of which there will be no legal action or injunctions brought between either House regarding this matter. This matter may be reopened by either involved House, Orange or Gray, if in the future further evidence is brought before a ruling House. Witnessed by Obedience Tenth, House Blue.”
“So witnessed,” Bede, next to me, said.
“Witnessed by Bernard Eighth, House Black.”
“So witnessed,” Buck said.
“All right, then,” Welton said. “Let’s get back to having fun, shall we?”
“Matilda and I are leaving,” Abraham said.
“Where?” Robert asked.
Abraham shook his head. “You and I are friends, Rob. But right now I don’t want to be in the same building with you.”