Ruckus’s expression tightened, and then they were moving once more, this time at an even quicker pace. “We can’t talk about that here. I need to get you somewhere safe.”
She’d been removed from the ballroom along with the other three regents. From what she’d gathered, the rest of the guests were being kept there until Ruckus’s soldiers were certain that the shooters had all been accounted for.
Pettus was already waiting for them outside the science wing, a bundle of clothing neatly folded over his arm when they got there. When he spotted them, he bowed his head, and the look of pity on his face made her want to throw up for what felt like the millionth time that day.
Delaney hated feeling like this, scared and weak.
They wordlessly entered one of the large workrooms, and Pettus handed the clothing over to Ruckus. Afterward, he moved toward two metal doors and exited, leaving them alone.
“Here.” Ruckus held out the bundle and then spun pointedly on his heel. “I won’t look. Dress quickly.”
She couldn’t get out of the bloodied clothing fast enough, and yet her fingers shook around the zipper, unable to hold it steady to get it down more than an inch. After the fourth attempt, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, nearly jumping out of her skin when she reopened them to find Ruckus had turned around and was now less than a foot away.
“Apologies,” he mumbled, then motioned for her to turn. “Let me.”
He slid the zipper down and then stepped back.
“Thank you.” She dropped the dress to the floor, never wanting to see it again, and slipped into a pair of black pants and a brown shirt that exposed her midriff. Done, she barely resisted the urge to kick the dress under one of the heavy metal tables.
Instead she stepped closer to Ruckus’s back and eased her hand into his from behind. When he started to turn, she rested her head against the side of his arm. She was shaking and trying really hard to get a handle on herself. The horrible things that had happened that day kept replaying in her mind, and she just wanted it all to stop.
He reached around until he was holding her waist and hugging her gently to his front. The smell of firewood surrounded her, and for a moment neither of them spoke, giving her a chance to pretend that she was somewhere else. That they’d met somewhere else.
That they were even a remote possibility.
“Gibus believes he’s completed the machine to reverse the effects on your appearance,” he told her, breaking the silence and forcing her back to reality. “And the last report we received from Earth stated they were close. They’re going to find Olena soon.”
“Not soon enough.” She took a deep breath and repeated, “Why do you think he did it?”
Ruckus didn’t need her to elaborate, but when he didn’t initially respond, she looked up to catch him glaring off into the distance. “Haven’t you noticed the way he looks at you?”
She blinked. “Are you … You sound jealous. Of Trystan. Who is psychotic.”
“Of Trystan,” he corrected, “who just saved your life. He took a zee for you, Delaney. I’ve never seen him—” He clenched his jaw, tried again. “He’s the only heir of the Rex of Kint, and he put his life in jeopardy to protect you.”
“Olena, you mean.” She wasn’t sure how she felt about his odd reaction toward the Zane.
“No.” He shook his head. “I mean you.” His shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly. “I might not be the only one who can see past her face. He’s trying to see you, and maybe he already has.”
“Ruckus—”
He stepped back, running a hand through his dark hair in a poor attempt to smooth it back down. “I am jealous.”
She frowned at him. “You’re jealous because he took a bullet for me and you didn’t?”
At her pointed look, he sighed, the corner of his mouth just starting to twitch upward. “And you were saying he’s the psychotic one?”
“Oh!” The sound of Gibus’s excited voice interrupted them, putting an abrupt end to their conversation. He appeared across the room behind one of the large metal workbenches, grinning ear to ear at them. “I thought I heard you! Come in! You’ve got to see this!”
Cautiously, they made their way closer. There was nothing on the table to indicate what he was talking about, and their gazes swept around, searching out anything of interest. Seeing them, Gibus shook his head, sending long tendrils of his brown hair around.
“No, no.” He angled his body toward the right, through the door he’d just entered. “This way.”
Pettus had a hip propped against the side of a table, idly flipping through a book of some sort. He straightened when they entered the room. “They’re ready for you, Ander.”
Ruckus nodded. “I’ll leave in a moment.”
Ignoring their exchange, Gibus continued leading them over toward one of the glass cases, then he stooped down, blocking their view. A hum started up at the back of his throat, a tune that Delaney didn’t recognize, and he bounced a little on the balls of his feet. Obviously the assassination attempt against the royal family an hour ago had done nothing to damper the Sutter’s mood.
“Look, look.” He wiggled two fingers at Delaney without even turning to her.
Awkwardly, she stepped up, curiosity getting the best of her. Stopping close enough that their shoulders brushed, she bent down so that her face was at eye level with the glass. It was basically a twenty-gallon fish tank, only with a glass covering that had tiny pinpricks drilled into it.
The tank was filled with weird plants she didn’t recognize, some with spiky bright red leaves, others with vibrant green ones that appeared to have a waxy texture. They’d been planted in a fine two-inch-thick layer of dark soil, and twisted every direction, obscuring anything else that could be hidden within.
“What am I…” Her words trailed off when she caught sight of a marble-sized eye. It peeked out from beneath the tip of one red leaf, blending in so much in color that she almost hadn’t noticed it.
For a second all it did was stare at her, but then a head eased its way out from under the foliage, exposing bright neon-pink scales. The creature had a box-shaped head, with two large, glassy red eyes, two slits for a nose, and one for a mouth. It gaped a little, exposing a row of pointy teeth and a long curled brown tongue.
It pulled more of itself into view, so that she could see the long double-jointed legs on either side of its low oval-shaped body. A tail tipped with tiny razor-sharp pricks that mirrored its teeth flicked from under a green vine, clinking against the glass.
It took her a moment, but she realized with a start as it continued to tap its tail that it was doing so to the beat of Gibus’s humming.
“Please tell me that’s not a crumvit.” She gulped, recalling the name of the breakfast she’d been served that first morning on Xenith. Even though she hadn’t tried it, the idea of a dead version of this creature on her plate still made her queasy.
“What?” Gibus dropped his tune and gave her a disgusted look. “No. This is a spinik. Duh.”
“Human here, remember?”
“You don’t make it easy to forget,” he said, and snorted. “Anyway, I named her Missy.”