Wicked Stalker (Captives of the Onyx Brotherhood #1)

Twenty-Six

Eve

The morning of the Ladies’ Social Club brunch, I wake with angry bees in my stomach. Nothing as gentle as butterflies. It’s so stupid. I’m a captive, but at the moment, social anxiety is taking center stage. If I ever make it out of here, I’m getting therapy.

Gabriel furnishes me with an outfit for the first time in days. The clothes feel almost unfamiliar, scratchy on skin that’s become used to freedom. The outfit is so country club appropriate it makes me laugh—neat white slacks and a sensible blue blouse. Even my mom wouldn’t have had much to say about it.

Gabriel eyes me, frowning. I glance down at the clothes. “Did you get your grandmother to help pick this out?”

His lip quirks at my teasing, but he keeps his face straight. “Don’t you like it? I can send you there naked if you prefer.”

It’s an empty threat, and we both know it. He doesn’t want to anger the fearsome Portia any more than I do. Both Sebastian and Jacob, the only other people I’ve seen recently, wished me good luck yesterday in tones implying I’d need it.

“Seriously, though. You didn’t choose this. Who did?”

He rolls his eyes, but answers, “Sebastian. Who else? ”

“Of course.” He probably grew up at a country club, running around under tables while his mom drank and gossiped.

“And don’t forget your glasses.” He points to them sitting on my bedside table. I only use them for close-up work, and I haven’t been doing much of that here, so I’ve hardly worn them.

“Why?”

“Because you look cute in them. Don’t argue.”

I pick them up, slipping them into the neat white purse that compliments the outfit. Gabriel gestures to the door, though brunch isn’t for hours yet. “Come on.”

“Why so soon?”

“We’ve got a stop to make before the brunch. I want to show you something.”

That, I won’t argue with. Any excuse to leave the apartment. I follow Gabriel down the creepy corridor, mood sinking. Alone with Gabriel, I can sometimes forget my circumstances, and pretend we’re just a couple in a normal city apartment. Pretend the door isn’t locked from the inside. The sinister paintings of long-dead Brothers shatter that illusion.

We head out into the main square, with its weirdly normal vibe. People drinking coffee. Reading books. For a moment, reality shifts, and I look at the Compound in a different light. It’s an island, away from the world. It’s safe. No crime, no poverty; free food and resources. The best medical care in the world.

But like those zombie shows where there’s always a colony that seems perfect until you find out they’re cannibals, the heart of this place is rotten. Men like Kendrick, brainwashing men like Gabriel, Sebastian and Jacob and twisting those who seem otherwise good into believing they have the right to steal women. To keep us .

I lurch to a halt as something strikes me. Looking around at the milling people only confirms my suspicion. “There are no children. Where are they?”

Gabriel’s face shifts from confusion to realization. “Christ. I never went through that with you. The Brotherhood doesn’t allow children. A vasectomy is one of the terms of admittance.”

He watches my reaction closely as I process this big news. A tight knot of tension slips from my stomach. Thank God. I’ve never wanted kids. My mother always insisted it was my duty as a woman to marry young and breed plentifully. “Sowing Christian seeds.” The idea always nauseated me.

It’s also a relief to know Brothers aren’t bringing kids into their messed-up world and raising them to be the next generation. “Good.”

Gabriel relaxes and squeezes my hand. “I knew you didn’t want kids. It’s one of the reasons I chose you.”

I’ve long since ceased to be surprised at all the things he knows about me. And though his words make sense, I don’t believe him. His obsession is what made him choose me; everything else is just rationalization. I keep that observation to myself. No sense causing tension when I don’t know where we’re headed.

The flow of people changes, becoming more purposeful. Men with serious expressions and a much smaller number of women, who look equally focused heading the same way we are. It no longer feels like a lazy day at the park. More the business district at 8:00 a.m.

Women. Despite my resolution to behave this morning and see as much of the Compound as I can, curiosity gets the better of me. “Why so many women? Do the Brothers have them chained under their desks at work, too?”

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, a scalding blush hits me, and Gabriel freezes, lips parted and eyes wide. It’s the first time I’ve seen him lost for words. Then his gaze sharpens into the starving expression I’m very used to, as though he’s considering dragging me back to the room, Portia and the brunch forgotten.

“Jesus, Eve. Don’t give me ideas.” He takes a deep breath, shakes his head, and continues. “Lots of the Wards work. Either with their Patron or with others in the Compound. The work here is better quality than anywhere else in the world.”

“But—”

He put his finger to my lips, cutting me off. “We can chat about this all you want later, but we’re on a tight schedule this morning. Lots to see.”

I don’t argue. We reach a huge, shiny building, where everyone else is also headed. It’s more modern than the others, all chrome and sheet glass. Gabriel holds out his thumb to the scanner. It takes longer than I expect, and Gabriel notices my curious look.

“Security in this building is extra tight. This machine is sampling my DNA. There’s a group called the Calders who know about the Brotherhood and are always trying to steal our tech. We’ve had a couple of breaches lately.”

“Are they a tech company?”

He shakes his head. “More a crime family. Think the Mafia but high-tech. They sell stolen research to the highest bidder, and they’re into worse stuff, too. Arms dealing. Human trafficking. Heavy stuff.”

Unlike the Brotherhood, who are beyond reproach.

I bite back the sarcastic comment. I’m looking forward to the tour too much. At last, the door slides open with a barely audible swoosh.

I was vaguely expecting a reception desk inside, as it has a Fortune-500-company feel, but of course, there isn’t one. It’s not like the Compound has visitors. A few of the men share nods with Gabriel, and before we get more than a couple of paces inside the building, a man heads over.

He’s tall, mid-thirties, and handsome in a scruffy sort of way. Like a down-on-his-luck private detective in a cop show. He claps Gabriel on the shoulder.

“I never got to congratulate you. Impressive work! Are you moving on to larger masses?”

“Thank you. And yes, after the ceremony.”

The man gives me a cursory glance but doesn’t shake my hand or introduce himself. Another of the Kendrick variety, then. “Of course. That comes first. Well, I’ll look forward to…”

“I’m Eve,” I blurt out, thrusting my hand at him. Misplaced social anxiety wraps my chest as he just stares at my offending hand, but I don’t back down. “Pleased to meet you.”

I’m not, of course. But the dinner party introduction just slips out, and I can’t call it back.

He takes my hand and gives it an awkward shake. “Hadrian. I’ll see you at the ceremony.”

He turns away, walking as fast as he can without it turning into a run. I stare at his back as his words sink in. “Wait. Was he making a jab about me being naked?”

Gabriel snorts. “I doubt it. He hardly speaks to anyone besides his creations.”

Creations. Creepy. “Do I want to know what that means?”

“He’s new here, but he’s doing things with AI beyond what you can imagine. I can ask him to show you if you…”

“No thanks. I’m good.”

Gabriel smiles and starts walking again. “We never did get to finish the tour. And now that Jacob has met you and taken some time to look at your work, he wanted me to bring you to his lab. Do you want to see it? ”

Even though I shouldn’t be excited, I can’t help the rush of anticipation at his words. Jacob works at the absolute cutting edge of everything that interests me. Life extension biotech. Is there anything more atheist than wanting to cheat death? If there is, I can’t imagine it.

“Sure.” I keep my voice neutral, but I’m sure Gabriel picks up on the controlled excitement.

He squeezes my hand. “Come on, then.”

As we reach an elevator, a short man with a bushy beard and glasses perched on his nose approaches. “Gabriel, I was going to call. I sent through some new models last night. I know you won’t have had a chance to look at them, with everything”—a nervous glance my way—“but I’d appreciate your feedback when you get a moment.”

Gabriel’s arm lands around my waist. “Thanks. I’ll try and get a look later. Wally, meet Eve. Wally is my assistant.”

He holds out a sweaty-looking hand and stammers, “Hello, Eve.”

That weird flash of unreality freezes my polite greeting before it comes out. Gabriel mentioned his assistant. He’s not a Brother, just someone vetted and considered safe enough to help Gabriel with his work. At first glance, he seems nerdy and sweet. Does he know I’m a captive, or has he been fed a different story?

I file the question away for later and shake his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Gabriel presses the call button. “Sorry we can’t stop by the lab. We’re on a tight schedule this morning. I'll try to drop by later.”

“No rush. Humanity’s waited this long. Another week won’t hurt.” He lets out a nervous laugh. “We’re well ahead of Starfleet. Be beaming people up in no time. ”

He smiles, as if pleased with his own joke, and it further cements my suspicion he must think I’m here voluntarily. This guy isn’t some criminal. He’s geekier than I am.

Could Wally, or one of the other people who only work at the Compound, be the key to my escape? Surely all of them can’t be okay with hundreds of women being kept in captivity. All the more reason to behave myself and gain as much freedom as I can.

After a ride in the elevator and an endless walk through corridors that become hospital-like as soon as we’re off the first floor, we reach a set of sliding double doors. Gabriel presses a buzzer outside, and we enter.

I stare.

It’s a sci-fi-level lab, containing some equipment I recognize as absolutely top of the range and some I don’t recognize at all. I’m used to college workspaces. Serviceable but rough around the edges and put together on a budget. I can’t begin to imagine what the budget for this would be. The national debt of a small country, probably.

Jacob comes over, a hulking figure who looks out of place in a white lab coat, and greets Gabriel with a fist bump. Then he turns to me. “Let me show you around. It’s about time I had someone to talk to who doesn’t just think in numbers.”

He flashes a brief grin at Gabriel and starts to explain his work.

For the next hour, or maybe it’s much longer, I’m lost in fascination. The ground-breaking nature of what he’s trying to achieve leaves me speechless, though I force myself to ask questions. My wildest hopes for my future career never touched on anything like this.

By the time Gabriel taps my shoulder, my throat is dry from talking .

“I hate to interrupt, but you don’t want to keep Portia waiting.”

My heart sinks. Right. The darn brunch.

Jacob nods to Gabriel. “Can you spare her each morning? Nine till one?”

Gabriel considers, but it looks rehearsed. “I don’t know. Eve, would you like to work here?”

It’s a trap, of course. I know it—I can see it—but I can’t help stepping right into the tripwire anyway. Gabriel knows there’s no way I can refuse this opportunity, even though the circumstances are as messed up as possible.

By accepting, I’m accepting more than just a job. It’s a step toward becoming part of this place and turning into one of those happy women I keep seeing blithely accepting their captivity. It doesn’t have to be, though. There’s no harm in learning while I’m here. I can use what I learn when I escape.

The words even sound hollow in my head.

“Yes.”

He waits expectantly, and my stomach flips as I realize what he’s waiting for. Here? In front of someone? I lick my lips. “Yes, Gabriel.”

“That’s my good girl.” He says it quietly, but not so quietly Jacob could have missed it. My face flames, and he smirks. He loves embarrassing me and doing it in public seems to make it even more fun. Even though I should be angry, a low pulse throbs between my legs at the possession of it. He wants to make it clear who I belong to.

Why don’t I hate that thought as much as I should?

Gabriel eyes me closely, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s reading my blasted mind. The air charges between us, and he shoots a look over my shoulder at Jacob before turning back to me and pulling something from his pocket .

“I was going to give this to you later but…” He shrugs and holds it up.

It’s a collar. There’s no other way to describe it, pretty and delicate though it is. It’s black, made of a soft material, and inlaid with tiny sparkling stones in a wavy pattern. It’s tight enough to fit snugly around my throat.

Gabriel rubs his thumb over the edge, and the sparkles shift, changing to a dusky pink and shifting into a new pattern. “You liked the cards so much that I made this for you.”

A maelstrom hits my chest, a twisting tornado of confusion. It’s degrading. I’m not a pet to be leashed. But it’s also a marvel. I reach out, fascinated, and touch the edge, watching as the design shifts into bright blue stars.

“It’s also practical and gives you some freedom. The collar tracks you at all times. You have a designated area you can move within—the gardens, the restaurants, here—but if you go anywhere else, it sounds an alarm and alerts the Gilda. Same result if you damage it or try to remove it. Now that you have this, you can move around the Compound without me.”

I draw in a breath. He missed his calling as a salesman. A magical freedom-giving device. Not a tracking collar ensuring I’ll never be able to sneak away. I hold out my hand for it and change the design again. Spiky purple lines, reflecting my current mood well.

“It had to be a collar.” Not a question. He could have tracked me with a bracelet.

His smile turns wicked. “Of course. I can’t wait to see how this looks on you naked.”

“Gabriel!” My cheeks couldn’t get any redder.

“Jesus Christ. Get out of here. This is my laboratory, not a fucking sex dungeon. ”

Gabriel isn’t the slightest bit abashed by Jacob’s comment. “She’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wonderful. Now fuck off.”

Gabriel snorts, and I trail him out of the lab. Once we’re outside, he makes short work of fastening the collar around my neck. The latch clicks into place with a decisive snap. I’m just beginning to process my feelings on the matter when Gabriel sets off at a quick pace toward the restaurants.

“Let’s go. Don’t keep Portia waiting.”