Chapter Ten
Hadrian
When the door shuts behind me, I fumble with the mask, panicking when my thumb fails to undo the catch right away. I press it again—same result. My heart picks up, chest constricting. I’m trapped in the mask. It won’t—
Sweat. My hands are clammy, and it’s interfering with the sensor.
I hold my thumb on my cloak for a second, then try again.
The catch clicks, and I pull the mask off, clutching it in a death grip as I gulp in air.
I have to get better at this. If I fall to bits every time I leave Juliet’s prison, how will I cope once she’s with me full time?
In my room. My bed. Back where she always belonged.
I take off the heavy Saldar costume and hang it neatly outside Juliet’s door.
As I dress in my jeans and Iron Man T-shirt, my mind starts to calm, slipping back into its usual orderly state.
Something happens to me when I step through that door and become Saldar, and I can’t decide if it’s terrifying or wonderful.
I thought this would feel fake, like playing a role, but it doesn’t. It’s like stepping through a portal and becoming someone else. Someone savage. I hurt her. I forced her. I made her obey, and she loved it.
There’s no doubt in my mind that she loved every single second of it.
I’m drawn like a moth to the monitor. Juliet hasn’t moved, tucked neatly into her blanket, and her vitals show she’s already asleep.
I have no idea how. But Juliet was always a solid sleeper—the exact opposite of me.
Whenever we took a long flight together, I’d watch, envious, as she tucked herself against the window on take-off and woke when the wheels touched down.
Sometimes she’d drool in her sleep, and once, I took a photo. She squealed at me and made me delete it.
My heart gives its familiar, sad lurch at the memory. I miss that Juliet. Will I ever be able to laugh with her again? It doesn’t seem possible, not given the monster I have to become. The monster she’s already falling for, even if she doesn’t know it yet.
But I have her. That’s the main thing. I flick off the monitor and turn away.
Now that Juliet knows about the provision chest, I can leave her alone for a while to stew.
She has food, water, and a warm blanket, so I can give her time to miss me.
Boredom and isolation are Juliet’s worst enemies.
After a day by herself, she’ll be desperate for me to return.
The tricky part will be forcing myself to stay away.
It’s getting close to dinner time, but I’m far too wired to eat.
Energy zips through my veins, and I need an outlet for it.
The good thing is, thanks to my transformation, I have one.
Before I started bulking up for my role as Saldar, I’d never set foot in a gym.
I’m naturally skinny, and until a year ago, it never bothered me.
Now, though, I’ve come to enjoy working on my own body. Just like my creations, it’s something I can try to perfect. Staring at the walls in my apartment would be unbearable, so instead, I head to the fitness center.
Like everything else here, it’s overstocked with technology—ice baths, altitude training rooms, even a hyperbaric chamber. As a relative beginner, I haven’t felt the need to try anything too advanced yet. I mostly just use the weights.
The gym is mercifully empty, so I get to work. An hour later, my head feels a bit clearer. The madness I succumbed to in Juliet’s prison was understandable, but I can’t let myself get swept away like that again. This is too important to let random impulses take control.
I pull up Juliet’s feed on my phone before I hit the shower.
No change—still fast asleep, and her vitals are healthy and strong.
All I can see is her bright red hair tumbling out of the blanket.
Back when we were in school together, some stupid girls used to make fun of her for her hair.
I told her to draw ugly caricatures of them to cheer herself up, and she did.
On the last day, we stuck them to their lockers.
I spent forever getting the shade right when I created Candice, but even then, it never quite lived up to Juliet’s beautiful hair.
I strip and get into the shower. The hot water hits my skin, and I picture Juliet washing herself with the freezing cold bucket. Once she’s allowed modern luxuries again, she’ll be grateful for them. The pleasant image of Juliet’s naked form entertains me through the shower.
Just as I’m about to turn off the water, all the lights cut out.
I freeze for a second, then fumble for the tap in the pitch black, stopping the flow of water. The power must have died. The emergency generator will kick in soon. It doesn’t, though, and after a moment of indecision, I feel for the towel.
The blackness is total. As dark as the inside of Juliet’s cell when I turn the lights out. An uneasy prickle runs up my spine as I find the shower lock and slide it open. She must have been petrified, trapped in the dark and chased by a monster.
Chased by me. Not some beast. Me.
I push the cubicle door open. Still pitch black. Shouldn’t there be emergency lights out here? What the hell is going on? I start to feel my way toward the exit, when a single point of light springs to life.
It’s tiny—maybe attached to a smoke alarm—not enough to pierce the darkness. But it flickers in a way that gives me pause, and I stop to watch it. There’s something deliberate about the way it pulses that draws me in.
A low, swooping sensation hits my stomach. Am I really seeing this? Or am I so tired and stressed that I’m jumping at shadows? It has to be a coincidence. Just my tired brain twisting a flickering light into something else.
The light goes out, stays off for long enough that I start to move again, then comes back to life. I stare, willing it to seem random, but it doesn’t. There’s a pattern there. I’m sure of it.
Another break. I shiver, and it’s not just my skin drying in the chilly air that’s raising the goosebumps. This time, when the cycle starts again, I’m ready for it.
It’s repeating in a loop.
I watch closely, committing every flash to memory. It could still be nothing and would be easy to dismiss, but the timing lines up in a horrible way with Juliet’s arrival and the threatening text message:
I’m coming for you.
The cycle completes again, but this time, the lights flare back, and I close my eyes against the sudden brightness.
Something is wrong.
I race to my locker, grab my phone, and check on Juliet. Still asleep. It’s not enough, though. The digital image could be fake. I need to see her with my own eyes. I dress in a hurry and race to her prison, ignoring the odd looks I get on the way.
I’m breathing hard by the time I reach Juliet’s cell, clothes sticking to my clammy skin. The monitors confirm what my phone told me. She’s safe and fast asleep. Not enough. It’s still not enough. There’s only one option.
I strip and struggle into my Saldar suit.
Even if she’s fast asleep, she could wake when I enter, and that would be a disaster.
It’s far, far too early for her to learn the truth.
The door clicking open echoes like a gunshot, and I force myself to pause before entering. What will I say if she wakes up?
I’ll think of something.
I needn’t have worried. Juliet is fast asleep and safe. I take the first free breath I’ve taken since the weird power cut, and the weight of responsibility I have for Juliet presses down on me. As of now, her safety and well-being rest in my hands.
A hand appears from her blanket cocoon, and I freeze as she shifts in her sleep, but she just mumbles something, lets out a sigh, and falls quiet again. My fingers itch to stroke her fiery hair, but that might wake her. I keep my hands locked to my sides. I’m in no state to play Saldar right now.
She’s safe, but it doesn’t erase what happened. Much as it hurts to walk away, I exit the room quietly and call Kendrick.
***
“How long were the main lights out for? I’m concerned that the generator didn’t kick in. If this happened in one of the labs rather than the gym, it could have been a problem.”
I force down my growing irritation before answering. Kendrick, Jacob, and I are seated in Kendrick’s office, but the meeting isn’t going the way I imagined. “Two minutes, give or take. But that’s not why I’m here. The light flickered in a pattern. I’m sure of it.”
Kendrick holds up a hand and picks up his phone. “Briggs. Speak with electrical. Tell them to do a full diagnostic check of the emergency power protocols. Immediately.”
He sets down the phone, and Jacob clears his throat. “The cameras didn’t pick up any flickering. Just the smoke alarm light, on like normal.”
“If the cameras don’t show it, someone tampered with them. I know what I saw.”
Jacob and Kendrick exchange a look that makes me want to punch the desk. They don’t believe me, and can I really blame them? I shouldn’t have come rushing in here without taking the time to look at the pattern. They think I’m crazy. Kendrick is more worried about the faulty fucking lights.
Could I be losing it? I’m exhausted, wound up, and distracted by Juliet. Maybe it’s all in my head?
Kendrick sighs, reaches for his ever-present decanter, and pours each of us a drink. I’m not much of a drinker, but I sip at it anyway, trying to order my thoughts before I make myself sound more insane than I already have.
“I know I could be imagining things. But what if I’m not? Isn’t it better to be cautious?”
Kendrick taps a finger on his glass as Jacob speaks.
“You’re not wrong.” A frown creases his face.
“But I’m not sure what to do about it besides placing guards around you and Juliet.
If this happened to someone else, I’d come to you and Candice for help.
If the cameras have been tampered with, she’ll have the best chance of working out who did it. ”
She will, but that anxious prickle returns. The change in Candice’s hair color and other little things I’ve noticed are really starting to concern me. She’s breaking through her programming, and while, so far, everything I’ve seen has been benign, what if some of it isn’t?
What if Juliet’s arrival has upset her?
I can’t let Jacob or Kendrick in on this suspicion, though, and there’s no point continuing this discussion until I have something concrete to work with. I force myself to smile at Jacob. “You’re right. I’ll speak with her. And the extra security would be appreciated, thank you.”
Jacob doesn’t even glance at Kendrick before nodding. When did he get the authority to make decisions like this? He finishes his drink and sets it down on Kendrick’s shiny desk. “No problem. I’ll get it organized. And mate?”
He pauses, and I manage an awkward, “Yes?”
“Don’t get too far into your own head, okay? Me and the boys are going for drinks tomorrow.” He raises a hand, cutting off my protest. “Not out of the Compound, just at the bar. I know you wouldn’t want to leave Juliet. I think it’d be good for you to come along.”
It’s phrased like a request, but one glance at Kendrick’s stony expression tells me it’s probably an order. They want to keep an eye on me. I’ve got them on edge, and maybe they’re right to be.
If Candice is causing trouble, I can’t let them discover it. Kendrick might shut her down, and I won’t let that happen a second time. History isn’t going to repeat itself.
I’ll do anything to prevent it.