How Beauty Met the Beast (4 page)

He could work with that. “Teletext. Pull this lever to send it.” He stepped back, giving her room to try the machine herself. Sure enough, her hesitation ended, and she stepped into the space he had just occupied, within touching distance of his current location.

Not that he was going to touch. Now that she knew what he looked like, comfortable proximity was probably the best he could hope for. But he’d take what he could get.

Jolie depressed the lever, and the gears on the ingenious little device spun and clacked until a tube sucked up the metal disk with the message he’d typed. It would be transported to the kitchen where Brayden could pick it up on arrival. After reading, he’d dump it into the reuse tube, where it would be cleaned and put back into circulation. No waste, no od.o wasteelectricity, the way the Underlight did everything.

Their little community may lack regular modern conveniences, but it wasn’t without its own strange and ever-evolving technology that had diverted from the world above and never looked back. Hauk’s fascination with it hadn’t dimmed in the few years he’d lived down here, and he doubted it ever would.

“That’s amazing.”

Hauk smiled. “We think so. After breakfast I can give you the tour.”

She hesitated, and for a moment he feared she’d turn down the invitation. But finally she nodded her pretty head. “That would be nice.”

He glanced back at his stained clothes. “I’m going to get cleaned up.”

“Okay.”

They nodded at each other awkwardly. Didn’t he used to be smooth? With a forced smile, he turned away and removed his jacket.

“Oh!” she said, “I’m in your room. You need me to go... somewhere else?”

He pointed around a corner to an area partitioned off from the main room. “Shower’s around that way. I don’t mind you staying. I’ll be on the other side of the screen.”

He’d taken off his boots last night but not his socks. Usually it was a funny game, trying to figure out why his berserk mind had decided to do whatever he’d done the night before. Today it was just weird. He sat on the bed and yanked off his socks as Jolie watched.

“There’s a shower? Good God, what happened to your foot?”

He glanced at the metal appendage La Roche had permanently fitted to his right thigh. “I lost my leg just above the knee in the same fire that made me all pretty. Did you want to use the shower? You can have it first.”
Or we could use it at the same time. Mm...Jolie, wet and naked.
And he was torturing himself with these thoughts, why? Oh yeah, ’cause he still had a dick. Which he used exclusively for pissing. He scrubbed a hand over his face.

“You go ahead. You’ve got the—” she motioned at her chest, “—blood. I may use it after, if you don’t mind.”

He nodded and launched himself from the bed toward the partition, yanking his shirt over his head as he walked.

“G’damn...” Jolie muttered. He had no idea what that meant.

He felt better when hot water poured over him, a nice wall separating him from the angel around the corner. But she raised her voice, and it carried easily into the bathroom and over the sound of the water, like he was attuned to it. “Are these runes? On the weapons?”

“Yeah. Norse.”

“What’s the arrow? It’s on all of them.”

“Tyr, god of the just fight. He sacrificed his right hand to the Fenris-wolf to slow the coming of Armageddon.” At least Hauk had only lost a leg. A lost hand would be worse. Even LaRoche and Tally couldn’t make fingers that articulated like the real thing, and while his leg was perfectly functional, he couldn’t feel anything with it. The rest of his skin was an unpredictable mix of sensitive and deadened sensation, which still surprised him sometimes, but thank the gods his fingers could still reliably feel.

“These are poetry books!”

“You sound surprised.” Hauk ran the soap over his body, trying not to imagine what it would be like if it were her hands on theliehands o soap, rubbing the slick bar across his touch-starved skin. Trying and failing.

“Axes and Byron make an odd combo.”

He laughed and rinsed off his face. “Byron died a soldier in Greece, preparing to defend them from the Ottoman Empire. They go great together.”

“Okay. Yes. I did know that. But Viking runes and poetry?”

He shut off the water and grabbed a towel. He’d neglected to bring clothes in. Oh, well. Now was not the time to develop shyness. After a quick dry, he wrapped the towel around his hips and headed back into the bedroom.

Jolie curiously played with some mechanical pieces he was making for Tally to use in an invention. Everyone in the Underlight had a craft talent; as everything was handmade or recycled, it was a requirement to sustain the community. They also did a bang-up business on Etsy and Craigslist, which allowed them to acquire necessities they couldn’t make. Hauk had chosen metalwork to retrain his fine motor skills after the injuries and to force himself to get near fire again, which had been almost as hard as the rehab. The strategy had worked, limbering his fingers and easing his nightmares, and after a couple years of frustration he was a pretty good craftsman, if he did say so himself.

He smiled to see her playing with his things. It looked good. “The Vikings believed a real man could swing a weapon with strength and write a poem with grace. Don’t believe those nasty rumors spread by the continent. My ancestors saw no reason not to be both strong and smart.” He motioned at himself. “And clean. Cleanest Europeans of the Medieval Era, anyway.”

She stared at him openly, and he couldn’t read the expression. The wider planes of his chest made the scarring less noticeable there than on his face. Or at least, that’s what he told himself when he looked in the mirror. And with no body hair, his musculature, which he kept up to Army Ranger standards, was easy to see. He could only hope that’s what had Jolie’s pretty green eyes riveted.

He stepped toward her, and she blushed but didn’t back up. Gods, he knew better than to stop in front of her,
he knew better
, but his feet stopped anyway. “A look like that could give a man the wrong impression,” he rumbled.

“Oh. Sorry. I...” Her blush deepened until her skin nearly matched the strawberry in her hair. “You came to me. I didn’t mean to...”

He nodded behind her. “You’re between me and my closet.”

“Oh!”

“I know the birthday suit’s a hit, but you’re gonna have to make a decision here. Step aside, or grab the towel and check out the rest.” He was flirting? He hadn’t flirted in five years.

Jolie’s hands clenched. Was it possible she would consider going for the towel? Because she wanted to see him? Or because she wanted to gawk at more scars? She looked him over and her eyes settled back onto his, serious. “It doesn’t bother you.”

His smile faded a bit as he shrugged. “Never was much of a looker. Didn’t matter to me before. What good would it do me to care now?”

“You have beautiful eyes.”

The smile came back. “Yeah, the pink in my face sets the color off nicely.”

She laughed then slapped her hand across her mouth, as if disturbed by her reaction. “You make jokes. That’s so...normal.”

“The fire burned my sup burnedkin, not my brain. Contrary to popular opinion, the explosion did not blow the human out of me.” Might’ve given him some weird aftereffects, like blackouts and a pain-dar, but under the changes he was the same old Hauk, worshiping old gods, writing bad poetry and swinging a fist when the situation called for it.

She bit her lower lip and stepped to the side, the blank expression she’d carefully kept most of the morning replaced with a thoughtful one. Again came the stupid but uncontrollable disappointment that he couldn’t have more with her, that last night’s touches were necessarily their last. But he left his Beauty standing in the middle of the room and strode the rest of the way to his closet.

“I’m gonna use the shower,” she said, but her footsteps didn’t retreat.

He nodded without turning around.

“Hauk, I’m so sorry.”

He pulled out a blue shirt (blue for his eyes?
Stupid...
) and started to dress. “For the accident? Unless you happened to be in Afghanistan five years ago, committing arson on a military base, I’m not sure why.”

“No, for the way I reacted to...” She took a deep breath. “To your scars. I was an idiot.”

He turned to face her, far more comfortable now that he had a shirt on. “Everyone reacts the same, Jolie. The difference is who sticks around long enough to get past it. Something it sounds like you just did. So, far as I’m concerned, we’re five by five.”

She dropped her gaze then looked back at him, still so serious. “That’s big of you. Thank you for your understanding. And for saving me last night. I’ll admit, I was a little freaked when I woke up in bed with you. But Catrina was right. You’re a good man.”

Hauk’s eyes widened in horror. He’d not only taken her to the Underlight (nobody brought strangers home to the Underlight; big community no-no), but he’d dragged her into bed with him? He wasn’t sure which was worse: that he’d effectively kidnapped her or that he’d managed to hold her for eight hours and didn’t remember it
.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “No worries. I’ll take cuddling with you over whatever Dickhead and Asshat were planning any day.”

A
s compliments went, it was weak. But he’d take it.

Chapter Four

Tiny clockwork dirigibles with mistletoe hanging from the baskets flew lazy circles around the great hall. Fireplaces in each corner crackled merrily as they burned real wood fires, and colorful stockings hung from every mantel, each with a name embroidered in a carefully homemade stitch. In the center of the room a Christmas tree stretched up to nearly brush the sixteen-foot ceiling, decorated in lit candles and metal ornaments that moved like wind-up toys. A spiderweb of clear pipes decked with holly and pungent evergreen zipped more teletext messages up the walls and across the ceiling. A gentleman in a jaunty Santa hat scrubbed the stone floor and discussed politics with a young woman dusting the wooden furnishings, and both of them stopped to wave good morning at anyone passing through.

Jolie didn’t know which part was most alien, but she beamed in delight at the décor and waved back at the couple. “What is this place?”

“Welcome to Austin’s branch of the Underlight. Organized in theized eighteen-hundreds, we fight industrial control of our media, government and resources and return the power to the people.”

Jolie looked Hauk over to see if he was serious. “That’s some mission statement. Don’t most communes grow their own vegetables and call it a day?”

Hauk laughed with a cheerful sound she found heartwarming. “We do that, too. There’s a greenhouse out past the kitchen. They have it set up so mirrors bring sunlight in from above. The spinach from this morning’s omelets was grown there.” He shrugged. “Although most of our food is from the farmer’s market. We don’t have the space to grow enough to feed everybody who lives here. But there’s nothing wrong with supporting your local family farms.”

The change-the-world determination in his voice reminded her of her father in earnestness, if not in content. Her father’s rants, however, had more to do with the trampled rights of business owners and fighting immorality in modern society. Papa didn’t know she’d joined a burlesque troupe, and she was keeping it that way. Hauk’s form of idealism sounded closer to her own politics, vague and unformed as those were.

“So how do you—” she tried to keep a straight face and almost succeeded, “—return power to the people?”

Hauk hesitated, like he wasn’t going to tell the whole story. Interesting. She crossed her arms and watched him struggle for words. Finally he said, “There are things most people take for granted as normal parts of living today, normal parts of progress. Or so-called progress. And they’re not.”

“Like what?”

“Like environmental wreckage. Like our health crisis and the insane way we produce and waste food.” His face darkened. “Like modern warfare. It’s... I’m not saying war was ever a jolly good time, but people who think it’s more civilized because we have guns and smart bombs instead of axes and spears don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“A pacifist soldier?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t say that. Anyone excited about war is ignorant or crazy. But there are things—people, ideas, freedoms—that are worth fighting for, and there will always be people who put these at risk. A good soldier fights to protect what he loves or to win something good that can be gained through no other means. I’m proud to be a solider. I’m the strongest fighter the Austin Underlight has, and I choose to forward her mission as best I can.”

He emphasized “choose,” again giving Jolie the impression there was a backstory he wasn’t telling her. So many secrets down here. If Catrina hadn’t been so confident in her safety, she might be worried. Although truly, she didn’t get anything but good intentions off the vibe, and who was she to judge what was normal? Her life was anything but. “I still don’t understand what exactly it is that you do or how, say, the environment—which is a great cause—is connected to the national health crisis. Again, a great cause, but...”

“They
are
all connected.”

“How?”

Hauk hesitated again, looking anywhere but directly at her.

She narrowed her eyes. “Is this some sort of conspiracy theory? Seven men who run the world, that sort of thing?” Of course. The most interesting person she’d met in years, and he’d dragged her to his commune of conspiracy theorist nuts. Well, at least that wasn’t dangerous. Just paranoid.

Before she could tease C cofonhim, Hauk’s eyes locked back onto hers with a conviction that sent a chill down her spine. “It isn’t seven men.”

“What?”

“Who run the world? It isn’t seven men. It’s—”

A pack of children squealed and clambered into the ballroom, interrupting Hauk and breaking the moment with their jubilant energy.

“Tell me later?” she mouthed.

Hauk shut his mouth and looked away, already changing his mind about the confession. She started to argue, but then her faculty advisor from The University of Texas followed the children into the hall.

Jolie did a double take. “Dr. Echelson?” Catrina joining a cult that believed in weird conspiracies was one thing, but Dr. Echelson was one of the most celebrated historians in the U.S. and as far from flighty or paranoid as a man could be. “What are you doing here, sir?”

He looked every bit as startled to see her but, after a glance at Hauk, approached. “I teach humanities to the children. I didn’t realize you were a candidate for Recognition by the Underlight.” He frowned his best professor glare at Hauk. “And as a representative of The Thing, one might think I’d be familiar with all the candidates.”

He taught elementary kids? Her professor? What kind of education were they getting down here? Far from the prep school propriety bunch Jolie had been a part of growing up, they seemed like a normal pack of raucous children, racing around the winter-bedecked hall as they dodged dirigible mistletoes.

“There were, uh, extenuating circumstances last night,” Hauk said, looking decidedly uncomfortable. Jolie might even say squirming. Good to know Dr. Echelson’s imposing brain didn’t make just her nervous.

Some of the professor’s thaw melted into amusement, and he turned to Jolie. “I heard you missed your German exam this morning.”

“That’s my fault,” Hauk said quickly then turned to Jolie. “You’re a student?”

“I’m a doctoral candidate at the university. Comparative Literature.”

“Jolie is focusing on the use of pop culture for propaganda in the twentieth century.” Dr. Echelson smiled. “Come to think of it, she’ll fit right in here.”

“Think you can smooth over the missed exam?” Hauk asked.

The professor looked between them again, his thoughts about exactly why she’d missed clearly written on his face. Oddly enough, he seemed to find it amusing she’d missed an exam for a tryst.

No, that wasn’t it. He was pleased to think she’d had a tryst
with Hauk
. Pleased enough that he might speak with the German department in her defense. Well, if it helped her get a second shot at that exam, he could think whatever he wanted.

Heck, she wished she was the kind of person who could get over Hauk’s looks and give him a chance at something not-so-platonic. He seemed interested in her, and his body, from a shape perspective, was pretty damn incredible. God, those ab muscles had just about floored her when he’d stepped out of the shower. But any thoughts of kissing him, of getting up close and personal with those burn scars, made her girlishly squeamish.

Even if his voice did sound a hell of a lot like Wesley’s. And
that
kiss and
those
touches had been incredible.

She bit her lip, push Cher

Jolie stared at her feet. Nope. She was definitely not the good person Dr. Echelson thought she was. “You can tell him what happened.”

Dr. Echelson smiled genially and raised a hand. “I don’t need details. Hauk, you think I should talk to my friends in the German department and get her a second chance?”

Hauk shifted beside her as his jaw formed words that didn’t come out, and it dawned on Jolie that he might really like Dr. Echelson’s misapprehension. He probably didn’t have a lot of women coming down here; maybe having someone think she was here as his lover had blown up a bubble of pride he was loath to burst.

Well, hell. If Jolie could please Dr. Echelson, bolster Hauk’s pride and get another shot at her German test, that made for a rare win-win-win situation. She curled against Hauk’s side, and his arm slipped around her as automatically as the clockwork ornaments that spun on the tree. “He’d better say yes,” she purred. “Or I might get real offended.”

The grin that lit up Hauk’s face was worth it, even if that was her only reward. But he said, “Second chance. Please,” and Dr. Echelson laughed.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He left them, shaking his head and still chuckling.

Jolie snorted a laugh. “What a hippie! I have a new respect for Dr. E. Is everyone down here that cool?”

Hauk dropped his arm. “Thanks,” he said gruffly.

“Thank
you
. You’re potentially saving me from two years of German.”

“He would do the same thing if I’d told the truth, and nobody would think you and I—”

She punched him playfully on the arm. “Slept together? We did. Maybe more literally than my adviser assumed, but come on. I’m a burlesque dancer. A scandalous reputation increases the mystique.”

His eyes locked back on hers. She hadn’t lied when she’d told him they were beautiful. A bright, startling blue, oddly vulnerable in the bad-ass exterior. She was learning to read the way they spoke his emotions louder than words, and the gratitude there was almost uncomfortable.

Hauk may not mind the way the scars made him look, but he did mind what they’d done to his life.

Ugh, too much emotion. She had to change the subject. “So, how do I become a candidate for Recognition? What is Recognition, anyway? I’m pretty sure I’d like that.” The words were out of her mouth before she’d thought them through, but the truth was, with Dr. Echelson on board, she was suddenly very interested...and not just because of how he could help her future career in academia. He was the best teacher she’d ever had, and his knowledge and understanding of Western history was unparalleled. If he took this conspiracy theory seriously, there was something to take serious.

Plus, it would give her a reason to keep seeing Hauk, and she found she liked that idea very much.

Hauk smiled and ruefully rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah...about that. I’m going to be in a bit of trouble over bringing you down here. If we could get you Recognized ASAP, that would be nice.”

“So, let’s get started. What do I do C Whuld get, apply to The Thing? Is that the governing body of the Underlight? Isn’t that was they call the parliament in Iceland? The All-Thing?”

Hauk’s metal eyebrows rose as if he was impressed.

She grinned. Her dad’s career in news media had stuffed her brain with more random facts than anyone should know. “Yeah, I’ll school your ass at Trivial Pursuit. Bring it.”

He nodded slowly. “You can school my ass however you want.”

Jolie nearly choked on a surprised laugh. She needed to quit being shocked every time Hauk acted like a normal male.

Because he
was
a normal male.

She wagged a finger playfully. “Keep dreamin’, soldier-boy. Now, you going to explain your Thing?” His eyes sparkled roguishly. “The
Underlight’s
Thing? Geez, get your head out of the gutter.”

He forced back a laugh and became serious again, though the lightness in his eyes and the quirk of a grin didn’t leave. “It’s more of an organizing committee than governing body. And anyone with enough votes can get on it, and I mean anyone. In addition to Echelson, the nine members currently include a thirteen-year-old and a robot dog.”

“How do they maintain order?”

Hauk shrugged. “They don’t really. I mean, we only have one hard and fast rule: Don’t tell the outside world. Unless it makes better sense to tell, at which point, do what you have to.”

Jolie shook her head. “So you live in a slightly organized anarchy.”

“That’s about right.”

“And fight the Enrons of the world through dubiously legal means.”

“I didn’t say that.” But he grinned. Apparently that was exactly what he did.

“And there are underground communities honeycombing the world.”

“Most of the cells don’t live together like Austin. Being a...a commune, as you put it, isn’t the goal, it’s the—” he hesitated, “—the fight. We’ve got an especially nice setup here, where we can truly live by the principles of the Underlight. But it’s also the most precarious way of organizing. A lot of the other cells think we’re crazy.” He gave her a guarded look. “If someone were to expose us, we would be raided, wiped out in one attack. Lives would upended in a government quest to force everyone into the system. Or worse. As there is no record of us, there would be no one to look into it if we simply disappeared.”

Jolie lifted her brow. “Do you often carry strangers down in a fit of crazy? That seems detrimental to the whole ‘guarding a big, important secret’ thing.”

The areas of Hauk’s skin that weren’t scarred pink colored to match the burns in the strangest blush Jolie had ever seen. “I’ve never done that before. No.”