Chapter 1

Five Years Later

Garrett: Callie’s place. @8. Show up l8t.

Toby: You got it. Thx bud.

The clearing of a throat forced his attention upward. Toby Irons brushed the dark hair out of his brown eyes to catch his father glaring at him from across the dinner table.

Emerson Irons sighed, disappointed. “Would it kill you to not text at the dinner table, Tobias? Put your phone away.”

Toby rolled his eyes but complied. “It was just a quick text.”

“Always be attentive to those around you. Have I not crammed that into your head enough?”

Oh no. Toby knew a lecture was coming a mile away, but that didn’t mean he dreaded it any less. Now, any son would be happy to receive just an ounce of their father’s attention. Unfortunately, the brunette was unlike any other teenage boy he knew. Not that he tried to be any different. His life and destiny seemed to be built for him since birth.

“You did your best,” Toby replied.

His father ignored him, shaking his head as he continued with his speech. “You’ll be eighteen in a month. From then on out, you will be introduced to a whole new world where you’ll be tested at every turn. And one day you might thank me for passing the knowledge. It’s time to start behaving like an Irons man now.”

“Oh, come now, dear. He’s not eighteen yet, so he’s still a child. Let him be one until then.”

Next to his father sat Marjorie Watson, or more recently known as Marjorie Irons, the stepmother. To put it short, she was a bitch. The fakest person to parade around in Sheffield. Toby seemed to have a keen eye for people like her who snatched wealthy men only for their money, and Marjorie was a certified gold-digger. And Toby hated her for that.

That and because she served as a reminder of him.

He shook his head before his thoughts spiraled into dark corners, refocusing on his father.

“I worry he won’t grow out of it in time,” he spoke to her, but his eyes remained on his son. “We cannot have a child running the family company. It’s best to start in advance while we have the chance.”

“I can run the company, Dad. I get higher grades than Toby anyway.”

Toby sent an annoyed glance to his left, who sat Maisie, his twin sister. She also had her phone out, but she didn’t look down at it hidden under the table. When she used it, it appeared as if she was staring down at her food.

Toby rolled his eyes again.

“That’s why you’re my backup plan, Princess. Let’s give your brother a chance, yes?” Emerson's lips tilted up momentarily.

Their father wasn’t much a smiler, typically serious in every situation he was in. Though, Maisie tended to be his weakness, her snarky attitude and quick wit bringing out his rare grins. Toby couldn’t remember the last time he got his father to smile, only able to bring out dissatisfied sighs and irritated glares. At least, he was better than Marjorie, who nowadays spent most of her time inside a mall or a spa.

Toby hurried to finish his dinner, feeling his aggravation bubble to the surface. He loved his father and sister to death, but the more taking over the company was discussed, the more he needed space from everything. He just wanted to feel normal for once, which was to play baseball, go to college, and enjoy the rest of his youthful experience. Luckily, his friend Garrett notified him about a party at a former fling’s house.

It was there he could unwind.

A poke at his side had him turning to his sister, who leaned over to whisper as their parents conversed. “Hey. You know I was just teasing. I’m not trying to replace you.”

“I wish you were serious.” It was a pipe dream of his.

Maisie shook her head. “No way. Dad’s too far up your ass to see me. And that’s just the way I like it.”

Toby grimaced at the wording. “Maise, I’m trying to eat.”

She grinned smugly. “You’re choking it down pretty fast.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Just the way you want me,” she winked

Toby rolled his eyes but chuckled nonetheless. Out of the two, no one would expect Maisie to have such an unfiltered mouth. Most days, she was worse than his friends, spewing jokes that ranged from outlandish to downright fucked up.

Later in the night, as he got ready for bed, his father confronted him once more before he was about to step into his room to get ready.

“Tobias. I’m serious. You need to prepare yourself. What we do is no joke. We go through an extremely strict regimen process to weed out the weak. You’ll have to endure it before you can even sit on the throne.”

Toby nodded along, already bored of the conversation. “I know, Dad. I know.” Why did his father feel the urge to remind him of something he’s been spouting for years? It wasn’t that much of a big deal, was it?

Emerson went on. “We’ve taken a significant hit with the whole debacle five years ago. I’ve done what I could, but it will be up to you to rebuild the rest of the blocks. How you do that will reflect on us all.”

“Why not get Maise to do it, though? For real. She knows better about robots… or, androids, or whatever we do.”

He wasn’t into engineering anyway. Building robots and cyborgs sounded cool in an action movie. Not as a career.

“They may be so, but the other families have had a long line of male representatives. No point in being rebels and breaking tradition.”

Currently, Toby sat at the edge of his bed, his mind trying to conjure what his future would look like. Sometimes, it felt like his dad sounded as if he had no other option. Was that why he married that gold-digger, Marjorie? Maybe it wasn’t because of her, but because of…

The brunette reached for a folded piece of paper on a cabinet beside his bed, where a lava lamp and several baseball trophies he had obtained over the years sat. He unfurled and read it for what he believed to be the thousandth time.

MISSING CHILD

13 Years Old

4’9

Red Hair

Blue-Green Eyes

Last Seen: Fountain Vale Children Hospital

~Reported missing from his designated room between 11:30 p.m. and 3:30 a.m. in the middle of the night of January 13^th, 2015.

The impulse to crush the piece of paper into a crumpled speck jabbed at him like an annoying fly, but his fingers wouldn’t cooperate. He did not want to forget that face no matter how much the unwelcomed guilt stung.

Instead, he angrily hissed, “Damn you.”

The party was in full swing.

Music escaped the opened windows of the large brick house and out into the night air, heard by the partygoers ambling around outside and the neighbors close by, most likely agitated by now. An array of colorful lights flashed out, lighting up the surrounding yard, but did not quite reach the distance a strange, black truck hung out from at the opposite end of the street.

In the driver’s seat sat a bald man the size of a lumberjack, his black eyes taking in the scene out of the window of the passenger’s seat. He whistled lowly, his head titled slightly. “This is how you guys party? Have to say, not impressed. What’d you think, Gill?”

In the backseat, a woman with brown, frayed hair shoved her slender body in between the two seats. What remained untouched of her pale skin glowed in contrast to the tattoos that covered her bare arms. Blue eyes looked out the same door when she addressed the man on her left.

“Who’re you even talking about, Thallon?”

“The humans. I mean, they were your people, right, fresh pup?” he questioned the male next to him.

He was smaller. Much smaller. Maroon hair falling over navy eyes due to the hood of his sweatshirt over his head. The boy stared blankly out his window, his body still as he took in the mingling people.

“They’re not my people.”

The response came from a deep and monotonous voice. A voice that did fit with the youth’s build.

Thallon rolled his eyes. “You say that a lot. You wanna go in and party one last time amongst your former kind? Remember the good ol’ times? Take a few bites out of some of ‘em?”

He said this as a trio of girls in skimpy outfits walked down the sidewalk in front of their car. He growled in appreciation while Gillian made a noise of disgust underneath her breath.

“Ugh. Pig.”

“What’s the plan?” the boy asked dully.

Thallon snorted at him. “Party pooper.”

Before he could respond, Gillian beat him to it. “We just need to find one of the Metals and put a little spell on him.”

“Which also means that you’re going to screw one of them,” the huge man smirked at her.

Gillian’s nostrils flared, glaring angrily at him. “Asshole. I can’t tell if you enjoy being a wolf or a pig.”

“Well, choose one. I can’t be all three. Plus, you’re the one who has to get a high schooler all up in ya.”

“One – you can absolutely be all three. And two – we just those eyes of you undressing the brat that walked by. Didn’t we-”

The boy had enough. He didn’t wait for Gillian to finish her fuming reply as he quickly opened the door and hopped out of the truck. He sauntered toward the party with his hood up. He already knew the gist of the plan. The other two were not needed until the second step.

As he got closer, an assemblage of smells hit his nose. He could already scent this party ten miles away, but it only got worse as he closed in on it. Beer, gin, tequila, tobacco, sweat, piss, and sex all invaded his senses as he silently slipped through the front door. Of course, it was packed, jostling bodies here and there, swaying as if controlled by the mere rhythm of the music.

He kept trudging, avoiding as much contact as he could. It felt endless trying to maneuver around everyone, the crowd getting thicker as he moved toward the end of the house. When he did, the first thing he noticed was the people on the longest couch there. The boy felt his insides freeze up as he gazed long and hard into the faces of each of the occupants. Memories assaulted his mind as his sights fell upon one guy in particular.

Dead center sat the target: Tobias Irons.

He was perched in between a bunch of girls and guys, all enraptured by his brunette, tall, and muscled presence as he loudly weaved a tale of his adventures in the bedroom. Hoots and hollers rang out as he made crude gestures with his hands, gaining even more attention from the surrounding partygoers.

The boy tucked his hands inside the pockets of his jeans to hide the blood that seeped down his knuckles because of his tightly clenched fists.

What else was he expecting? Of course, the world wouldn’t stop for a measly, little nobody like him. They were… happy. The people who ousted him on a simple word from the mouth of an Irons had moved on, their faces jovial and red from drunken laughter.

“Fresh pup” closed his eyes, trying to control his breathing. The right side of his head pulsed with the angry drumming of his heart. His pockets went damp, blood staining the insides of his jeans. He needed to get ahold of his rage, lest he murdered every single, fucking human in the god-forsaken cesspool-

A hand touched his shoulder.

He scented Gillian without looking over his shoulder.

“You found them? Is that him?”

The boy nodded, feeling his fury lessen a bit.

Gillian hummed at the sight of Toby Irons. “Well, isn’t he fine? That was pretty fast how you found him already. Now I see how you did. He definitely stands out.”

His scowl deepened. That statement was true without a doubt, but he knew the truth. He knew what hid behind those good looks and charisma.

“Don’t tell Thall I said any of that,” her eyes didn’t move from the brunette, who was taking a drag from a cancer stick passed down to him. “He would never let me live it down if he found out I was doing this.”

The boy hid his surprise at the last second. “You’re going to…”

Gillian nodded and waved a hand toward their target. “I mean, look at him. Who wouldn’t want of piece of him? That one is-”

“Tobias Irons,” he spat out the name like a curse.

“Irons. Good. Time to do my magic. I’ll be back in twenty. Hopefully, thirty,” she giggled as she sashayed over to the group with brimming confidence, unperturbed by the numerous pairs of eyes that settled upon her form.

The boy watched his partner step right up to Toby as if she belonged there. He didn’t bother tuning his ears in to hear what they were saying. He’d rather not listen in on a thirty-something-year-old hit someone twenty years her junior. It didn’t take long for intrigue and traces of lust to grace the Irons’ face. He stood from his seat, his full height allowing him to tower over Gillian. A minute later, and the target was leading the mysterious female deeper within the house.

Fresh pup watched them leave, leaving him to his reverie.

“It was him! It was him, sir!” his stepbrother pointed right at him. “H-He made Ox do it. He made Ox chew the wires and killed him!”

The officers didn’t hesitate, their silhouettes moving toward him like shadows against the blazing background of the crumbling mansion. They moved around the firefighters, who were too busy washing out remaining patches of fire. His mother was only a few feet from him, not moving from her spot as crocodile tears streaked down her face. Beside her, his stepfather’s hands went wild with gestures, arguing with the head policeman.

Sniffles, real sobs of agony, brought him back to the one who sold him out. Toby stood there with his arms wrapped around his twin sister, hugging her close as she cried into his chest.

“I h-hate him! He killed my puppy, Tobs!”

“It’s okay, Maise. He’s going away. They’re taking him away,” he glared pure hatred at the boy. “We’ll never have to see him again.”

He didn’t feel the cool, stinging metal of the cuffs until he was being shoved toward the police car.

“W-Wasn’t… me…” he murmured, his mind circling and breaking all at once over what happened fifteen minutes prior. “Dog… big d-dog… fire… b-breathing…”

It was real. It was all real.

But nobody believed him.

Toby sneered in disgust, evidently having heard his mutterings. “You’re psycho! Stay away from us, Arson Watson.”

The moment one of the officers snorted, he knew the name would follow him wherever he went.

“I knew it. Pot, meet Kettle. Always bitching me out when she just as much a pervy kid diddler.”

He never noticed Thallon come up behind him, having also seen Gillian sneak away with Toby.

“I’ll wait in the car,” the boy turned and sauntered away, feeling the anger coming back. He needed to get out of this house.

“Oh, sure. I’ll just…” his attention drifted to more eye candy, “search for the fun all on my own.”

This group of girls noticed him this time, and they giggled and waved when Thallon winked.

Beau Watson left without replying.