Artificial Mates - Chapter 129

Grant stirred beside me, there were low murmurs on the other side of the door. He lifted up on one elbow, I rolled around to face the door.

“What’s wrong?” I said with a sleepy voice. The dim morning light illuminated his frowning face. He pushed the covers back. Last night, I didn’t know when he came to join me in bed. I was too tired to wait for his long conversation with his cult members to end. Grant was wearing only his pajama bottom. My hand glided over his bare skin. He peeked over his shoulder with a smile.

“I’ll be right back,” he got to his feet but a glowing figure materialized in front of the door leading to the living.

“Master,” called Jil, she lowered her head as she noticed me. “Sorry, I know you don’t like me stepping in your room but—” Grant pulled a shirt on in hast.

“What’s going on?” he cut her.

“Olga is here,” Jil added with a serious face. I struggled out of bed following Grant. What was she doing here this early? The door opened and all eyes turned their focus on us. Olga was sitting crossed-leg on the floor with the other artificial settled in a semi-circle facing her.

“Good-morning,” she smiled. Olga was not wearing her usual pricing dresses with heels but training legging, a black top, and running shoes. Her hair was braided and fell on her right shoulder. It was strange to see her without makeup, she almost looked human. Was she here to complete my combat training?

“Good morning,” said Grant but he couldn’t mimic her enthusiasm. “Did you came to take back your car?” his eyes darted from her to Nicolai sitting in the front row.

“Something happened a couple of hours ago,” her smile dropped. She turned back to the assembly. “And you can’t keep your little friends here,” she shifted her focus back at us. “Get ready we need to head for the lab, right now,” at the mention of the lab,fear kicked in. I frowned at her.

“What happened, exactly?” I urged. Olga got up in one fluid movement.

“Atlas went berserk and attacked Dr. Laurell,” a terrifying silence felt on the audience. Blood drain from my face, I felt faint. Heart pulsing in my ears.

“Wh-what about Demos?” my voice a mere whisper. Olga kept quiet.

“Let’s get ready,” Grant suggested. Then he turned to the group still sitting. “What about them?” the question was targeted towards Olga but his eyes were lost int he distance. I felt the many gears ticking through our connection. He was as scared as I am.

-Go take a shower, I’ll make you some tea. While you’re drinking I’ll get ready.

I didn’t argue with him and did as he told me. I hand shook as I squeezed the tap shut, I had to take several deep breaths to stay calm. Demos is ok, he is safe, I kept chanting as I slipped into a pair of jeans and a white shirt, when I got back to my room I noticed in the large mirror that I was wearing Demos’ T-shirt. I wave of unbearable pain gripped my stomach. I groaned and wrapped my arms around my midsection. The door slammed open startling me. Grant stood against the light from the living room, worry plastered all over his face.

“I-I feel sick,” I gasped. In a few stepped he closed the distance between us. I ran to his open arms, they closed around me giving a sense of security. “I need to get a grip. I need to be strong,” I shivered, he rubbed his hands on my back to reassure me. He buried his face in my hair.

“I’m terrified,” he admitted. We both froze, the world fading around us. At this moment, we were only us two with a huge gap beside us. Space where Demos was supposed to occupy, empty. I quickly wiped my wet eyes and stepped away.

“Go,” I sniffed, turned around without knowing what to do. He watched me for a minute.

“Your tea is waiting for you in the kitchen,” he paused then added. “I’ll be quick,” I nodded and went to meet the others. To my surprise I found only Olga waiting for me.

“Where⁠—” my voice trailed off. Olga was perched on one of the tall chairs by the bar. She uncrossed her legs and tilted her head tot he side.

“I told them they couldn’t stay. It’s still early, it safe for them to travel under the under of darkness,” when she noticed my worried face she went on. “Where I’ve sent them they will be secure,” a pink mug was waiting for me with steam rising and a sweet aroma coming from it. Another reminder that stabbed me in the heart. Demos! Please be safe. I sipped on my tea while gripping the front of my T-shirt⁠—Demos’ T-shirt. Olga watched me with curiosity.

“When the moment comes⁠—your state of mind will play a big role. It will either kill or save you,” I settled the half-empty mug by the sink. I didn’t dare look at her.

“I’m sorry for being human⁠—being ruled by my emotions. I’m a mess right now,” I swallowed then met her judging eyes. “I’m a mess, cause I love them both. I feel useless being left in the dark. I’m f.u.c.k.i.n.g scared of losing Demos⁠—and even more of losing Grant,” I glared at her for being this calm. “So yes, I will probably f.u.c.k up when the moment comes, I’ll try my very best that’s all I can do, I will crawl and bite them with my teeth if I can’t move anymore. So do not throw your logic machine bullshit at me,” by then I was panting. Olga got off her chair and slowly clapped her hands with a grin.

“How I’d love to get such a love declaration from my mate,” she commented. I just stared at her in utter shock. That was not the reaction I was expecting. The door to the room creaked open and Grant stood there with a shy smile. Our head sprang in his direction. Olga burst in a throaty laugh, it made me flinched. The sound was so uncharacteristic of her behavior.

“Did you head that?” she laughed. Grant lowered his eyes.

“I did, I’m a little shaken by it,” he murmured. I cleared my throat to get their attention. I never planned to make a love declaration in front of Olga or all people. She was their maker for god sake. I was like I was complimenting her work. I wiped an invisible sweat off my forehead. A clear sign of extreme nervousness. Actually I was embarrassed beyond reason and wanted to switch the subject.

“Weren’t we in a hurry to save the world or something? Or did we forget about Atlas,” Olga’s smile died like wiped from her face?

“Get in the car, I’ll explain everything,” she announced in her usual serious tone. I like her better when she was herself⁠—the cold detached beauty that can chop you to pieces with her bare hands.

***

The car sped uphill as the sun appeared on the horizon. We watched the dark clouds given way to a palette of orange and pink on deep blue skies. After the recap of what had happened to Dr. Laurell, we left in a heavy silence. Grant was staring outside with one hand cupping his face and Olga was focus on the road. Since we left out home, the car was on manual I think she hasn’t noticed it yet.

“So, we don’t know what happened to Demos?” I asked for the hundredth time.

“We’ll find out when you arrive,” simply added Olga. Texson City finally peeked between trees in the distance. My heart raced in my chest, both eager to meet Demos and scared to find out what happened. We slowed down as we passed the welcome sign. The streets were strangely deserted even this early. Usually, there were trucks going around, moving goods and materials.

“Be on your guard,” muttered Olga, her hands gripping the steering wheel hard. When we reached near the lab we were stopped by a barricade, a dozen human guards were searching each vehicle and checking IDs.

“Madame,” waved a guard with a flashlight. “Pull over,” a second one stepped to the speaker. They peered inside the car at us. “IDs, please,” Olga rolled down the window and flashed the guy a smile.

“Hello officers, is something wrong?” the guards didn’t smile back. The one holding the flashlight shone it into her face. She stared straight at him without blinking. Her face blank and beautiful.

“IDs, Mad’m,” said the other with a heavy accent. She stretched her left arm out showing her pink bracelet. The digital ID appeared above her wrist. Both stared with astonishment, one of them murmured something in his radio. My anxiety level went to the roof when I noticed more guards converging towards us.

“Mad’m, stepped out of the car please,” Olga frowned at him. The guard took a step back while touching his holster.

“Is something wrong?” she asked. The second one had taken out his weapon and pointing it to the ground.

“You are under arrest Mad’m or whatever the hell you are,” his voice rose to an angry pitch.

“Liliane Kerry and artificial Grant step outside also,” said the one pointing his gun. “You are under arrest for sabotage,” shouted the guard. My eyebrow arched up. What the hell was going on?