Page 75 of Stitched Up in You
“Down here is where I spend most of my time while at the mansion, but this is also my longest visit. I usually never stay the night and instead head back to the city after visiting Brom,” I say as the electrical pod designed to fit my frame comes into view.
“What’s that?” she asks.
“I’m an energy being, and that’s the machine I use to siphon my power and fuel the village,” I answer.
“What does that mean exactly, energy being?” she asks, seeming more interested than perturbed.
“My body produces its own power and substance that manifests in an electrical current. I don't need to sleep, eat, or drink, although I can,” I say, pulling a spark into my hand to show her.
She looks down at my hand and nods as she lets out a sigh. “So, you were awake the whole time when I was leaving your room.”
I grin, forcing my power away and taking her hand in mine when she still doesn’t seem like she wants to run. “Come here and I'll show you how it works,” I tell her, pulling her toward the pod filled with soft leather. “It’s surrounded and cocooned by reinforced steel when closed, and the insulated stone houses the piping structure that contains the power until its put into use anywhere electricity is used on the property.”
“That’s cool, but what about all the storms popping up lately?” she asks.
“Yes, on occasion, I can influence the weather, but it's exceedingly rare,” I tell her honestly. The last few weeks have been the most unusual with my power displaying itself in a way it hasn’t before, but that’s common with mate bonds.
“Doesn't seem very rare,” she mutters under her breath. She pushes her glasses up her pert nose and peers around.
I watch as she peaks inside the two rooms that are located downstairs, one that's my closet and the other a shower. Once she's done, she makes her way back to me, shaking her head as she does. “So, let me get this straight. You sit in the huge egg-shaped thing, feeding your energy into it, and you can control the weather?”
“Yes, and any electrical grid,” I answer.
She gasps, her brows scrunching together on her face as she scowls. “No wonder I couldn’t take over Talbot that day. You asshole, did you watch me the whole time?”
“We did. I even let you have your freedom to see who you were working with, until we figured out the truth of it,” I confess.
“I’m guessing that’s why I never found any electronics in the house either,” she says, as if putting it all together.
“Like I said, I'm not here often, and before you arrived, I'd not been here in months. The mansion has never been lived in since I’ve owned the property. I stop by often enough to keep Brom from setting the fields on fire and attracting unwanted attention.”
She laughs, and the twinkling sound tickles my eardrums and sends a flutter flow in my belly.
“What’s through there?” she suddenly asks, pointing behind me to the large steel double doors.
“That leads to the train.”
“You have a freaking train?” she asks, her jaw dropping a little as she rushes toward the access.
I watch, amused when the doors fall open from her proximity and she bounces in place like an excited child discovering sweets for the first time.
“Would you like to take a ride?” I find myself asking, noting that Jekyll did say to romance her, and she seems excited enough at the idea.
“Yes!” she shouts.
We make our way through the doors to the small white maglev train. “It’s a maglev train built to carry only a handful of passengers. It was originally made to transport the electrical pod underground, but now I use it to travel between my place and the lab,” I tell her, wondering what information she would find interesting.
“You have a lab?” she asks, her gaze telling me I’ve somehow piqued her interest again.
Once she takes her seat, I settle in beside her, careful to give her space on the cream-colored leather. I’ve never ridden in the train with anyone, and the close confines makes me keenly aware of my size.
“Would you like something to drink?” I ask, remembering there’s a compartment fridge somewhere I’m sure is still stocked as I’ve never taken anything from it. If I can find the button.
She raises a brow and presses at a button near the edge of the chair arm, and out comes a cooled refrigerator with bottled water wine and champagne. “I’ve seen some articles online about the ridiculous things celebrities buy, but this takes the cake,” she announces, grabbing water from the console.
“I’m hardly a celebrity,” I say, uncomfortable with the term that humans seem obsessed with.
“Either way, this had to cost a fortune,” she says, glancing around the opulent railway as we begin to move.
