11. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
Jacob
The eyes of the creepy old paintings in the initiates’ building follow me as I walk away from Quinn. Every step makes me more uneasy. Leaving any brand-new Ward alone at this point would be a bad move, but with Quinn, it’s a disaster. I call Gabriel for the third time as I exit the building.
This time, he answers, sounding breathless. “Hello?”
“Put some bloody clothes on and get over to my place. Kendrick’s called me to an emergency meeting, and Quinn’s by herself.”
“What? Okay, I’ll be a few minutes. I’ll bring Eve. She liked Quinn.”
“That’s the reason I rang you three fucking times instead of just calling Seb. Try and keep her happy. I put a code on the door for you. Three, six, nine, eight. Got it?”
“Sure.” There’s a long pause as I take a second to breathe in the cold air. “How’s it going so far?”
Gabriel sounds dubious, and I don’t blame him. He’d been obsessed with Eve for months by the time he took her. The idea of me taking a random stranger horrified him. I angle toward Kendrick’s office. “She’s a spitfire, but honestly, I think I like it.”
“Okay. I’ll go get ready. Good luck with Kendrick.”
I reach main admin and summon the lift. The big man’s office is on the top floor, always guarded by two of the Gilda. When the elevator doors slide open, the two young guards wave me straight through.
Kendrick’s office reminds me of an old stately home I visited on a school trip as a kid, except that place was falling into disrepair. Kendrick’s office is pristine, from the carved doors to the rich carpet to the shiny suit of armor that stands behind his desk.
Seb nicknamed it “Sir Fucksalot,” and now, every time I visit Kendrick, the stupid name is all I can think about.
Three men wait in Kendrick’s office. The man himself, a young nerdy chap I’m pretty sure is part of the IT support team, and Hadrian Glass. He joined a couple of months after I did, but I haven’t spent much time with him. He’s working on secretive AI projects and is supposed to be a bit of a dick.
This group makes no sense. I’d expected the Gilda, and Brackis in particular, to be the subject of this meeting. I have no idea what these people have to do with me and am instantly wary. Kendrick doesn’t do anything without good reason.
I take the remaining seat. Kendrick, as usual, doesn’t waste time with small talk. “Jacob, thanks for coming. I know the timing is poor, so I’ll make this as brief as possible. Brody, please explain what you’ve found.”
The young guy clears his throat and turns to me. His skin still has a few pimples, though his hairline is already receding. Poor bastard got the shit end of both those sticks. “Mr. West. As part of my role, I monitor all internet chatter about anything Brotherhood related. Last night, you were everywhere, and not in a good way.”
He takes a nervous sip of water and glances at Kendrick before continuing.
“It’s one of the most severe coordinated smear campaigns I’ve ever encountered. Across message boards, social media, anywhere people know your name. Fabricated evidence of you engaging in foul behavior. Using racist and homophobic language. Making inappropriate comments to young girls.”
My hand clenches into a fist, and I force myself to relax it. My mind tracks over all the possible perpetrators and struggles to find one. Plenty of people hate me, but none of them would have the skills to do something like that, or the money to pay someone else to.
“What actions have you taken to remove it? And do you have a lead on the perpetrator?”
Brody’s tense shoulders relax. He’d probably been scared I’d bite his head off. “We’re working on removing it, sir, but—”
“That’s why I’m here,” Hadrian cuts in. He’s around my age, late thirties, but he looks tired. Like the world gave him a kicking.
“Social media is the best proving ground for my creations. They’re currently running around ten thousand accounts each, all through a secure, limited server. I don’t let them access the open internet yet.”
“Your creations?”
Hadrian frowns. “Apologies, I forget you’re not familiar with my work. I’m creating cybernetic intelligence. The CIs, they call themselves.”
Call themselves? They’re coming up with their own names?
Hadrian turns to Kendrick. “Travis passed the Turing test last week. The first of the males to do so, though none of the others come close to Candice, of course.”
I still feel lost, and it’s grating on me. “Candice?”
“Yes. My prodigy. The most advanced CI ever created.”
Every word screams proud parent , and it makes me shiver. Give me a human to tinker with any day of the week.
Kendrick graces Hadrian with a rare smile. “His work is truly groundbreaking.”
At the Brotherhood, we’re all about pushing boundaries, but I have strong reservations about true cybernetic intelligence. Any sane person should. I shoot a glance between Kendrick and Hadrian. “Sane” might be a bit optimistic in the Compound.
Hadrian turns back to me. “Anyway, back to your issue. Whoever did this used a very sophisticated method to flame you. I have my creations working to counteract the allegations and get some leads on where the point of origin is. We should be able to narrow it down.”
I nod, and Kendrick asks the question I knew was coming. “Do you have any suspicions as to who might be to blame?”
I take some time to run through the possible options. The most obvious is a jealous competitor. I’m well ahead of the pack in my field of life extension research, and unlike most of the Brotherhood, I don’t keep my identity hidden. I spend a lot of my time educating promising young students.
But the level of spite involved has a personal feel. A competitor might try and discredit me academically, but would they go as far as destroying my personal reputation? Just thinking about it has my jaw clenching. I’m glad Grandad doesn’t have a phone.
The other, more worrying option is an enemy from my army days. I have a few of them, but this doesn’t feel like the approach they’d take either. I’d be more worried about a sniper’s bullet in my back.
“Not at this stage. Have you considered the Calder family?”
Bottom-feeding tech thieves, the Calders are desperate to steal Brotherhood research. Kendrick shakes his head. “It wouldn’t make sense. They have the resources, but where do they stand to gain? Everything they do is for profit.”
I consider it. “Agreed. So we have no leads. I’d like to examine some of the posts.”
“Of course. This is going to be a distasteful process for you. Brody?”
Brody jumps, reaches under his seat, and extracts a laptop. “Yes, sir. Just give me—”
My mobile rings. Gabriel’s number. Shit. What the hell has happened? Gabriel’s words spit out of the phone. “Jacob. Quinn fucking attacked Eve.”
Heat spreads through me, starting at my pounding heart and spreading to the tips of my fingers. I want to stand, pace, smash my fist into Kendrick’s desk. Instead, I manage to keep my voice level. “Is Eve okay?”
“Yes, no thanks to your crazy fucking Ward. You need to—”
“Gabriel. Where are the three of you now?”
“Still at your place. I used two sets of your handcuffs to restrain Quinn because she wouldn’t calm the hell down and I needed to look after Eve.” He pauses, and his voice sounds more like his normal self when he adds, “That’s quite the collection of equipment you have.”
I can picture the shocked look on his face when he saw my bedroom. I’ve kept everyone out of there until now.
“Tell me what happened.”
“I got a call just as we got to your door. I took it, and Eve opened the door before I could stop her. She was excited to see Quinn.” There’s a hurt, reproachful note in his voice, and it gets to me. I really like Eve.
“I told her to wait, but you know what she’s like. She thought I was being ridiculous and opened the door anyway. Quinn smacked her in the head with your toaster and ran for it. I dragged her back inside, kicking and scratching. She’s insane.”
Shit. I can see exactly how it played out. The bloody toaster. “I’m sorry, Gabriel. It’s my fault. I should have left her tied up.”
“You should have! Eve’s got an icepack on her head now, but I want to take her to medical.”
I open my mouth to say I’ll be right there when a better idea hits me. It’s important Quinn learns her actions have consequences, and that I’m not going to let her control my day. Medical is on the ground floor of main admin, right where we are now.
“Can I ask you one more favor? I’ll owe you.”
A long pause, and Gabriel sighs. “No. You don’t. What do you need?”
“Can you carry Quinn? She weighs fuck all. Keep her in the restraints, and there’s something I need you to get from my bedroom.”
***
Ten minutes later, a Gilda guard opens the door. “Sir? The people you mentioned are here.”
Quinn’s voice fills the room. “Put me fucking down! I can walk, you bastard. Let me…”
Her stream of insults and curses continues as Gabriel enters looking as pissed off as I’ve ever seen him. He has Quinn over his shoulder, her legs gripped tight as she struggles as best she can with her ankles bound and her hands locked behind her back. He marches over and dumps her on the carpet next to my chair.
“Good fucking luck with her. Eve is in medical, so I need to go. And here.” He holds out the item I asked him to collect. “You’ll need this.”
I have to raise my voice to be heard over Quinn. “Thanks, mate. I’ll send Eve over something nice to say sorry.”
Gabriel gives me a tight smile in response, nods to Kendrick, and leaves.
Kendrick and Hadrian watch Quinn with mild interest as she twists about on the floor, trying to get herself upright. Brody, the young chap, looks like his eyes are about to fall out of his head. Part of me wants to smack and tell him to keep his eyes where they belong.
The other part of me knows an audience will make this much worse for Quinn. All three men agreed to this, and it means we can still get this bloody meeting finished. This day already feels like it’s been a year long.
“Sorry, gentlemen. I’ll just shut that noise up.” I hold up the gag I had Gabriel collect for me right in front of Quinn’s face.
She shuts up instantly, eyes going round as she stares at the thing. It’s a ball gag, with a large ball designed to be messy and uncomfortable. She’ll be drooling uncontrollably.
She knows it, too, because she shakes her head and says in a polite voice, “I’ll be quiet.”
“I don’t care what you’ve got to say for yourself. You hurt Eve, and you’re going to be punished for it.”
She winces. “I didn’t know it was her. I thought it’d be one of those goons”—she nods toward the door—“so I—”
I don’t wait for her to finish. Grabbing a chunk of her hair, I force the gag into place and cinch it tightly shut. She shakes her head, trying to dislodge it, and a pitiful whine comes from her mouth. Her lips are spread wide, in a frozen O shape, and fuck if it doesn’t send a jolt straight to my cock.
When we get home, she’s going to do something about that.
All the careful training plans I had in place for Suzy are crumbling. As I pick Quinn up like a doll and settle her face down over my lap, reality starts to sink in. Quinn isn’t going to kneel for me and smile. She’d probably headbutt me in the crotch or bite my dick off.
She’s going to need the firmest hand possible, and I can’t let my guard down for a second. The prospect should be depressing but my blood is pounding in my ears, and I have to ask Kendrick to repeat himself. “Sorry, sir?”
“No need to apologize. I asked if you’re ready to continue the meeting.”
I lift Quinn’s skirt up and slide her knickers down, baring her arse to every eye in the room. She goes crazy on my knee, bucking and mumbling. I’d been right. She hates having an audience. The red mottling on her arse and thighs has started to darken to purple, and the effect on her pale skin is stunning.
This is really going to hurt, but too bad. She needs to learn.
I land a savage slap as I answer Kendrick. “Of course.”
My hand has left a beautiful print on her, and it’s hard to tear my eyes off it and back to the laptop balanced on Kendrick’s desk. Brody coughs, manages to unglue his gaze from Quinn’s arse, and starts going through all the false posts made in my name.
I bring my hand down again, this time on the other cheek. Quinn jerks, kicking her legs and flailing her head. As Brody switches to another post, I lean down and whisper, “We’re going to thirty. Every single time you fight me, you get five more. Don’t test me on this, Quinn. I was gentle with you yesterday. Now, I don’t give two shits if you can’t sit without pain for a month.”
She goes very still, my warning hitting its mark. Brody stammers for a moment, then carries on with his presentation.
The flood of posts is disturbing. Almost disturbing enough to distract me from the way Quinn’s little body shudders each time I bring my hand down and the pathetic mewling noises that make it past her gag. Her saliva is soaking my jeans, and if I’m not mistaken, there are some tears there, too.
Usually, I’d feel bad about that, but the image of her smashing a toaster into poor Eve’s head is too fresh for any sympathy to sneak through. She’s going to cry today.
The posts all have one thing in common—they’re personal and aimed at subjects that disgust me rather than just things that would outrage the public.
The young girls “I” made sexual remarks to all resemble my little sister. The black footballer “I” called a monkey is the star striker for West Ham, my favorite team. The disabled gay soldier “I” called a useless faggot was in my old army regiment.
The person who did this either knows me well or has researched the things that would hurt me the most. Either way, it’s a fucked-up situation.
I look down to check on Quinn. She’s limp across my knees now, sniffling constantly. Her skin is bright red all over again. I rest my hand on her arse, and even that makes her twitch. “That’s fifteen. Halfway there.”