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  HOUSE OF ARTIFICE

  POISONED HOUSES

  BOOK 2

  LYN FORESTER

  COVEY PUBLISHING

  HOUSE OF ARTIFICE: POISONED HOUSES BOOK 2

  COVEY PUBLISHING, LLC

  Published by Covey Publishing, LLC

  PO Box 550219, Gastonia, NC 28055-0219

  Copyright © 2018 by Lyn Forester

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the writer, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design Copyright © 2018 Covey Publishing, LLC

  Book Design by Covey Publishing, LLC, www.coveypublishing.com

  Copy Editing by Covey Publishing, LLC

  Printed in the United States of America.

  First Printing, 2018

  ALSO BY LYN FORESTER

  Poison World Universe

  Poison World

  Beneath a Holo-Sky

  Ash in the Blood

  A Darker Shade of Gray (Coming Soon)

  Poisoned Houses

  House of Glass

  House of Artifice

  Tails x Horns Universe

  You to Me

  Just Not You (Coming Soon)

  Thread Reader

  Bound to Be

  Tied by Fate

  In the Loop (Coming Soon)

  Thank you to my wonderful, patient readers! This book has been a long time coming.

  Table of Contents

  Spit it Out

  No Time

  Resist Assimilation

  Lonette Manor

  Yes

  Burdens

  Choices

  Clean Slate

  Play the Part

  Small Dreams

  Gauntlets over Breakfast

  Blue Fall, Blue Rise

  A House at Odds

  Saving the Princess

  Not Love

  The Hope of Bloom

  Who Needs Cake?

  Breaking the Mold

  Venom and Poison

  About the Author

  Spring-Cycle

  Location: Leton

  Season: Spring-Cycle: Day 28

  Year: 895 PL (Post Landing)

  SPIT IT OUT

  “Hurry.” Declan juggles four jars of water in his arms, the plastic seals on top the only reason he doesn’t soak the front of his shirt when he twists to stare at the dorm’s entrance. The sound of other students arriving drifts back to the snack room. “The Entertainment Hall’s going to be crowded before we get there.”

  Crouched in front of the open icebox, I push aside white cartons of protein shakes.

  “Search faster, Sprinkles.” Felix’s knee nudges me between the shoulder blades as he hunts through the cupboard over my head for veggie chips.

  “Felix, I’m telling you. Your choices are strawberries or carrots. The kitchen doesn’t keep jam in here.”

  “Are you sure?” Paper crinkles, and he squats behind me, long legs bracketing my body as he peers over my shoulder. “Why are they so stingy?”

  “Because people like you would just eat it with a spoon,” his twin, Connor, points out from the back wall of cupboards. “They have rice balls. Anyone interested?”

  “What flavor?” Glass clinks together as Declan shifts his load around to free up one hand. “Any sweet bean?”

  Behind me, Felix perks up, one hand resting on my hip as he straightens in excitement. The bag in his other hand presses against my side, and I check out what he found. Roasted beans. Guess they still aren’t giving students veggie chips.

  “Vegetable protein paste.” Mild disgust fills Connor’s voice. I glance up as he tosses the rice ball into the hole in the back wall that shoots down to the incinerator. He scrubs a hand across his mouth as if to wipe away the taste.

  “Sparks, just grab some protein shakes, and let’s get going.” Impatient, Declan taps his foot against the dark wooden floor.

  “Eww.” Felix makes a gagging noise. “None for me.”

  Declan walks into the room, crowding the small space even further. “You need to eat more protein.”

  “Then they should give us real meat,” Felix argues.

  “We had mesuki at lunch today,” I remind him. The greasy meat left a nutty taste in my mouth no amount of water could wash away.

  “I’m not sure mesuki counts. I can’t believe they’re serving us that here.” Despite Declan’s grumbles, he had no issue scarfing down the thin slices of grilled meat earlier. Of course, he eats the protein cubes at breakfast and dinner with equal determination.

  “There’s nothing wrong with mesuki.” Connor abandons his search to join Felix and me at the icebox.

  “It’s disgusting,” Felix and I say at the same time.

  “Aww, look at us, totally in sync with each other.” Cold air wafts out of the ice box, and I shiver. Felix’s chin rests on my shoulder, his hand moving to rub my thigh. “Are you cold, Sprinkles?”

  “That’s the point of the icebox, right?” I keep my tone level as another shiver flows up my spine, this one not caused by the chill emanating from in front of me.

  His hand, hot against the cold of my school uniform slacks, leaves tingles in its wake. In the last two weeks, I’ve gotten used to his casual clinginess. It’s just part of who Felix is. He hangs on all of us with equal disregard. But in moments like this, his touch leaves imprints on my body that burn for hours after he leaves.

  Felix’s nose nudges through the red curls of hair over my ear. “Do you want me to warm you up?”

  I lick my lips, gaze focused on the white containers on the shelf in front of me. “I want you to choose what you want.”

  His hand tightens on my thigh. “I already did that.”

  My heart trips, a warm flush spreading across my chest and up my neck. “That’s not what I meant.”

  Two weeks ago, I took a huge risk when I agreed to try being in a relationship with all three of them. My acceptance, though, had the opposite result of what I expected. Instead of charging forward, the three men backed off, patient while they let me get used to all the casual touching.

  Now, it feels like they wait for me to make the first move, to give them some sign. Inexperienced in social interactions, I hesitate on how best to progress. Their restraint leaves us in limbo, our relationship moving at a crawl.

  Over our heads, Declan and Connor continue to argue the finer points of forcing us to eat mid-level cuisine in order to better understand our citizens. They seem to disagree on whether or not eating the large rodent really teaches us anything.

  Felix’s hand drifts higher, sweeping toward my inner thigh, and I slap it away. “Stop that.”

  “Sorry.” The tip of his nose skims along my ear. “It’s just so nice to touch you.”

  My eyes close against the sensation. It does weird things to me, making my stomach tight, and my breath unsteady. I wait for him to cuddle closer, but instead, he pulls away, fingers trailing along my hip. Surprised, I peer over my shoulder as he stands. Every time I expect one of them to push, they pull away, and it leaves me even more uncertain.

  He turns away quickly and shuffles around Declan as he says, “Just grab the strawberries. They’re nice and sweet.”

  “Protein shakes, too,” Declan comma
nds as he follows Felix out of the room.

  On my right, Connor crouches. Turning, his glasses flash as he watches them leave before he extends a small basket to me. “Here, put them in here. Some carrots, too.”

  As I stack the items inside, I frown. “I’m not doing this right.”

  Connor’s gaze drops to the basket, his brows knitting together. “Looks fine to me.”

  With a huff, I take the basket from him. “No, I mean…this.”

  He takes in the hand I circle through the air, and his confusion clears. Gaze serious, he cups my cheek. “There’s no right way to do this.”

  Calm sweeps through me at his touch. Where his twin throws me into spirals of uncertainty, Connor quiets the storm. Being near him feels natural, and quiet contentment fills my chest.

  “Come on before Declan starts tapping his foot again.” He reaches for my hand to lace our fingers together as he stands and pulls me to my feet. I kick the icebox door closed, and the sudden lack of cold causes my skin to prickle.

  The intimate press of palm against palm, the slide of fingers weaving together, sets my imagination spinning toward how it would feel to press other parts of our bodies together. My stomach flutters with equal parts fear and excitement.

  If hand holding still feels this risqué, how can I bring myself to take the next step?

  ~

  Other students had the same thought as us, the Entertainment Hall already filled with students ready for their weekend. In the open space of the front room, small clusters of upperclassmen circle the 8-Ball tables, the clack of balls striking together loud in the front room. Above them, and toward the back, plas-glass encloses a balcony where an empty ballroom waits for dancers.

  We hurry to a soundproof theater down a hallway on the left. Dimly lit, the dark gray curtain covered walls cut off the noise from the other room. Plush couches, covered in dark blue on blue paisley, sit two deep in front of the large holo-screen. With the lights off, the room will be pitch black for a full immersion experience.

  “Nice. We’re the first ones here.” Felix hustles to the front couch and tosses his bag of roasted beans onto the low wooden coffee table.

  On a Friday night, we’re lucky to get the theater to ourselves. Even with skipping dinner in the dining hall, there was a high risk that other students would get here ahead of us. We hadn’t even taken the time to change out of our uniforms before we headed over.

  Connor releases my hand, takes the basket from me, and joins his twin to add our bounty to the table. Purple carrots, a box of strawberries, and two protein shakes. Not the best snack options, but the Academia for Planetary Alliance, APA, restricts junk food during the week.

  Carefully, Declan sets down his jars of water, then parks himself in the center of the cushions. He spreads his arms over the back of the couch, transforming a piece of furniture that should sit four into a lounge for one.

  “Come on, Sparks. Take a seat.” He pats the space next to him as Connor turns on the holo-screen.

  Eyes narrowed, I stare pointedly at the couches behind him, before switching my gaze back to him. I fold my arms over my chest. “Scoot over.”

  He waggles his eyebrows. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite.”

  “But I will.” Felix’s arm loops around my waist as he plops onto the couch, into the spot beside Declan, pulling me down with him. I land half on his lap, his thigh hard against my butt. “We can all snuggle together.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll pass.” Connor wedges himself into the corner on my other side and leans forward to stare around me. “Dec, move over.”

  Declan’s golden-brown eyes narrow. “But I want to sit next to Sparks.”

  “Then, you shouldn’t have said you don’t bite.” Felix bounces his knee, jostling me. “Sprinkles likes biting.”

  “I do not.” Flushing, I shove his arm away and slide off his lap into the narrow gap between him and Connor.

  Felix moves his arm behind my shoulders. “That’s not what I remember.”

  My neck tingles with the memory of his teeth against my skin. The night we raided the school’s kitchen in an attempt to make cake lead to a lot of confusing events. I went from never having experienced a kiss to being kissed by both Declan and Felix in quick succession. Later, Felix tried to take it a step farther.

  I glare at him. “Do you want me to throw things at you, again?”

  He smirks. “Only if you’re throwing yourself.”

  Annoyed, I brace my back against Connor’s shoulder and shove Felix. He flops across Declan’s lap.

  The other man smiles down at him as he ruffles Felix’s already messy black hair. “If you wanted to cuddle, you just had to say so.”

  He blinks grass green eyes up at him. “I want to cuddle.”

  Connor and I sigh with relief as the other two scoot over, and the couch becomes less cramped.

  News scrolls across the holo-screen, announcing produce levels and estimated rice distributions for next quarter. Boring.

  “Are you sure we have the right channel?” Anxious, I check my purple dat-band for the time.

  Connor leans forward to snag a purple carrot. “It won’t start for another half hour.”

  Spring-Cycle Races air today. Every disc-bike racer dreams of competing in the Level 11 Spring-Cycle Races. The prize includes instant Level 11 citizenship for the winner and three family members, plus an entertainer’s contract for life. Whoever wins this race will never have to worry again. With our favorites racing, we need to see who wins.

  I glance around at the guys, Declan and Felix cuddled comfortably together on my left, and Connor, munching a carrot, on my right. We first met while pretending to be other people. I’d taken on the name Sparks to hide my identity as a High Councillor’s daughter in order to enter the lower-level disc-bike races. I’d planned to save enough credits to send myself to a halion run school to learn to become a mechanic and build my own disc-bikes.

  Declan, who I knew back then as Blaze, showed up out of nowhere a year ago and became my toughest competitor on the racing circuit. The twins, too, going by their racer names, Vice and Rush, added their own kink to my winning streak.

  Unknown to me at the time, we formed one of the Night Pirates’ most lucrative circuits. Well aware of our true identities, Pirate Captain Skittles charged us extra to compete, then sold holo-vids of our races on the black market for extra credits. A deadly crash in our last race ended it all when it alerted our parents to our secret lives as disc-bike racers.

  When I met them again at APA and realized they were also peers of the highest ranking members of Leton society, I wanted to steer clear of them. I needed to pretend to be a dutiful daughter until I turned twenty and could legally escape my family. Refusing to accept my rejection, they wore me down until I realized I didn’t really want to spend the next two years alone.

  Now, instead of being my competitors, we formed an official team, making a pact to be together and keep each other from turning into the political robots our families sent us here to become.

  “You want some strawberries?” Connor wafts the plastic container under my nose, the sweet scent of the red fruit pulling me from my thoughts.

  “Thanks.” When I take the container, his long fingers brush against mine, and he smiles.

  “Me, too!” Felix pushes away from Declan to curl in close to my side. “Feed me, Sprinkles?”

  I shove the container into his lap. “Feed yourself.”

  “But it’s sweeter when you do it.” He opens his mouth expectantly.

  Past experience says he’ll stay that way until I give in. I take a moment to find the largest berry in the container, then shove it into his mouth, stem and all.

  As he chokes, I lift a brow. “How does it taste?”

  “Ish gud,” he mumbles as he struggles to chew. His face scrunches up with distaste as his lips close around the green top.

  “Hey, wait, you can’t eat the stem.” Concerned, I search for something he can spit it into.r />
  His cheek bulges as he shoves the fruit to one side. “I eat what my girlfriend gives me.”

  “You could get sick. Don’t you listen in agriculture class?” I shove the container’s lid under his mouth. “Spit it out.”

  Instead, he swallows, the strong lines of his throat flexing with the motion.

  I stare in horror. “Why would you do that? What if you get sick?”

  Felix glances past me to Connor. “Bro, do you see how concerned my girlfriend is?”

  “Very concerned, bro.” Connor pats my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Sparks. Troehans make sure all our fruits and vegetables are toxin free.”

  Disgusted, I toss the lid back on the coffee table. I forgot about that. The halion race’s plant-crafters have mysterious methods that pull toxins from the soil harvested outside the city walls in order to grow food. For the elite, they go a step further to even remove a plant’s natural poisons so all parts of it are consumable. Needlessly expensive when food can be prepared properly to remove the inedible parts.

  “Yeah. They can’t let anything happen to Leton’s future leaders.” Declan whacks the back of Felix’s head. “Even if they’re stupid.”

  “Shut up.” Felix twists around to glare at him. “You know I’m a genius.”

  “Haven’t seen evidence of it lately,” Declan scoffs.

  “That’s because classes are boring.” Felix settles back on the couch and hunts for another strawberry, making sure to pinch off the stem this time before he pops it into his mouth. Around the fruit, he mumbles, “Give me a reason to participate.”

  “No.” I flop back into my own spot to stare at the holo-screen. Last time we played that game, it led to the cake incident.