Page 8 of Jorax (Arixxia Fields #4)

Chapter Eight

S yrryn

Sometimes I confuse myself. Just when I’d decided that all I wanted to do was focus on getting to know my adopted new town and move into the little house I’m renting, I’ve accepted another date with Icaron. It’s odd. I’ve never been a hot and cold person before. I usually know my mind pretty well.

The male has all but ignored me these last few weeks. At first, his absence hurt my feelings. In the sculpture garden after that sumptuous meal he treated me to, it certainly seemed as though he was interested in me. Then he all but disappeared.

Since I’d decided not pursue anything personal with Icaron, I’m not exactly sure why I agreed to go on this date. Well, it could be his vid-star good looks. Funny, I never considered myself so fickle before.

One more date in a hover-limo couldn’t hurt anything, could it?

I smooth the sleek white dress over my hips, admiring my reflection. Icaron invited me to the opening of a play tonight. I couldn’t resist bringing this dress along to change into after work. His intensity both captivates and unsettles me. Perhaps that hint of danger is part of his allure.

As I step out of the bathroom adjoining the lab, Jorax glances up from his workstation. His gaze catches on my plunging neckline before jerking back to my face, his patchwork skin darkening.

“You look… nice,” he rasps. “Special occasion? ”

I sweep my hair over one shoulder. “Icaron invited me to some exclusive theater premiere.”

Jorax makes a non-committal sound, bending back over his notes. Disappointment twinges through me. Over the past few weeks, I’ve come to rely on his self-deprecating humor to lighten my days. When he allows himself to relax, he has a dry wit that never ceases to remind me how brilliant he is.

His shy companionship stands in such contrast to Icaron’s hot and cold overtures. I often wish Jorax would be a little more forthcoming. I’d like to get to know him better.

My comm device pings with an incoming message. It’s from Icaron, terse and vague about an unexpected issue arising that requires his attention tonight. He doesn’t suggest an alternative date. He simply cancels at the last minute.

I huff out a frustrated breath as I toss my beaded bag onto the counter in irritation.

“Everything okay?” Jorax asks, tipping his head and focusing his yellow eyes on me as though I’m the only person on the planet and he’s dying to hear my every thought.

“Icaron just canceled. Something ‘came up.’” I make air quotes with my fingers.

Jorax shakes his head. “That’s unfortunate.” Is that a glint of satisfaction in his hooded eyes?

I glance down at my dress. “I was so looking forward to tonight, too. The reviews were good and the play sounded… interesting.”

Jorax fidgets with his notes. “Well, I know it’s not a fancy restaurant or an invitation-only premiere of a play… but the haunted house is supposed to be exceptional this year. Maybe I could take you there? If you want company…”

Warmth spreads through me at his bashful offer. “I’d love that!” Going to the haunted house with Jorax sounds much more fun anyway. I kind of oversold the play as interesting when what I wanted to say was “boring and pretentious. ”

I quickly change into my original jeans and sweater and soon we’re strolling across the ancient house’s front lawn as shouts and creepy music float from the purportedly terrifying haunted mansion. My earlier disappointment at being dumped at the last minute has vanished.

Jorax pays our admission, laughing off my concern that I can buy my own ticket.

“We always split the cost on our little jaunts. Tonight is my treat.” He ushers me inside with a courtly gesture at odds with his hulking frame.

We traverse room after room of elaborate scenes populated by both actors and holograms. Ghosts sail through walls, zombies lurch from the shadows mumbling, “brains, brains,” and mad scientists conduct deranged experiments in nightmare facsimiles of medical laboratories.

The atmospheric design keeps me gripping Jorax’s sturdy arm.

In one hallway, the lights cut out completely.

I yelp as something brushes my ankle. Jorax’s gravelly laugh vibrates through me when I cling to his side.

When the lights flicker back on, I realize this is the first time I’ve seen a genuine smile stretch across his face.

It thrills me to know he’s having as much fun as I am instead of treating this as a mercy date for the poor, pitiful human whom Icaron stood up.

“They’ve outdone themselves,” he remarks as we stroll out the exit into the autumn air.

I playfully swat his shoulder. “Did you know that last part was coming? You didn’t even flinch. Still, it was such fun.”

We meander across the lawn toward his hover discussing our favorite exhibits, when two small children round a row of hedges. At the sight of Jorax’s imposing figure, they skid to a halt, mouths agape. One begins whimpering behind his hands.

Jorax deflates before my eyes, his smile crumbling. He ducks his head and gives the youngsters a wide berth. My heart cracks for him. No matter how often it happens, the prejudice around his appearance must sting .

As we crunch on the parking lot gravel, Jorax forces a shrug. “Not everyone can be a pretty poster boy like Icaron.” But his flippant tone rings hollow.

I grip his forearm. “It’s their loss for judging on appearances. You’ve shown me beauty comes in many forms, my friend.”

Jorax looks at me with such surprise and naked gratitude that I make a silent pledge to remind him of that truth more often.