Chapter Thirty-Three
Hadrian
NOT ME. BAD MAN
The words drop like stones into my gut. Once I have them in my head, it’s easy for me to follow the repeating lights of the message. Juliet is right. I look over my shoulder, scanning the room, although there’s no chance anyone else can be in here. My skin prickles.
Juliet’s eyes meet mine. “What the hell does that mean?”
The jerky, uncertain message repeats once more, then the lights return to their usual steady state.
I close my eyes, letting the memory of the first Morse code message replay behind my eyes.
I WILL SHOW YOU FEAR IN A HANDFUL OF DUST.
It was smooth, repeating in an even loop as if programmed to do so.
This message feels different. Uneven, rushed in places and slow in others.
As if someone were frantically tapping it out.
And it stopped as soon as we understood it.
Not a pre-recording. It’s like the person making it was responding to us.
Once I have that image in my head, it takes over. I replay the new message and can almost picture some unseen person hitting keys in a panic. Is it linked to the partial messages I’ve been receiving for days? It has to be. BAD appearing in both is too much of a coincidence.
“Ha—I mean, Master. Do you know what it means?”
Juliet sounds excited, like this is a puzzle to be solved. I can’t shake a creeping feeling of dread. “I wish I did.”
We sit in silence until Juliet voices the thought I’ve been trying to keep at bay. “Could it be Candice? It started up when we were talking about her. When you shut her down, are you sure you got everything?”
“I…” I want to say I’m certain, but how certain can I be, really? Candice is the first of her kind. “We haven’t seen any signs that she’s still active.”
“Until now.”
Juliet’s voice is flat and practical. She always cuts right to the center of a problem. Where I tend to get bogged down in the details and stuck on what I think ought to be happening, Juliet takes a utilitarian view of everything. It shouldn’t be happening, but it is, so let’s fix it.
It was one of the things that made us a great team.
Juliet’s eyes are bright and alive. “This feels like a warning, though, not a threat. And the language is childish, nothing like the video you showed me. What were Candice’s speech patterns like normally? Did she ever slip into this sort of speech if she experienced slowdown?”
For an instant, I’m confused. Why does Juliet care so much about this?
It’s not her problem. But then good sense reasserts itself.
I’ve kept this highly intelligent woman in a cell for weeks, with virtually nothing to challenge her mind.
Of course she’s latching on to this mystery.
She must be desperate to use her brain for something.
I want to see what her brilliant mind makes of this issue. I want to, but I need to be careful. She can use her intelligence—if she remembers she belongs to me.
I can remind her of that again later, though. For now, we can work through the problem together.
She’s watching me expectantly, and I snap into action. “It’s never happened. This lab is linked to a supercomputer. Slowdown isn’t a thing here.”
Juliet’s eyes widen, and she looks around my bare lab with more respect. “Really. Okay then. Well, what about the early days? Were her early speech patterns childlike? How did you train her linguistically? I’m assuming you tried to copy natural language development.”
“I did. In fact…”
The memory hits, and I fall into it. Me, feeling like an absolute lunatic, reading children’s books out loud to my computer because I wanted Candice to gain language in the right order.
Most AI models are flooded with everything on the internet right away, and I had a theory that it changes the way they communicate, adding to that uncanny valley feel.
I wanted Candice to grasp language as a human does.
The big bad wolf blew the house down.
BAD MAN
“You’re right. Her early speech was childlike. It’s possible. It could be her.”
Juliet frowns. “If it is, then who is she trying to warn you about? Has anything else happened since you shut her down?”
My gym bag moved.
Someone coughed in the woods.
I haven’t told anyone because the thought of sitting in front of Kendrick or Jacob and telling them that my gym bag moved is mortifying. But Juliet will get it. She’ll understand.
“I need to go back a bit. Do you need a glass of water? This could take a while.”
Two hours later, we’ve worked through every possible iteration of the problem. Juliet asked for a pad and pen, and papers are covered in her neat, round handwriting. She’s practically glowing, and there’s color in her cheeks as she makes a bullet point list.
“So, see if we can get a recording of the actual call with the person who was supposedly Candice. I can’t believe you didn’t do that right away.”
Neither can I. When Kendrick and Jacob took me into the woods, I was so blindsided by all the information they threw at me and so shocked by the recording of Candice speaking to Juliet that I didn’t think to make the most basic requests.
I was already concerned about Candice, and they confirmed my worst fears.
Quinn was right. No trial. No chance to prove herself.
Guilty until proven innocent. I’d never have let it happen if I wasn’t so distracted by Juliet.
I never learn from my mistakes. I got so caught up in my obsession to create Candice that I destroyed my marriage.
Then I became so wrapped up in Juliet that I failed to protect Candice when she needed me.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath while I let myself feel the guilt. I jump when Juliet’s hand rests on my knee.
Since I took her, every touch between us has been deliberate—sexual, delivering punishment, or practical in nature. We haven’t touched each other for reassurance, as she’s doing now. The last time I felt that sort of touch would have been when we were still married.
God, I’ve missed her.
I lay my hand on top of hers as she says, “She’ll be okay. From what you’ve described, you built her tough.” She pauses, then adds, “I really want to meet her.”
I open my eyes and search Juliet’s face for signs that she’s faking interest. I’m primed to expect a lot of false acceptance over the next few weeks. She’ll pretend to be happy in her role as my Ward in order to gain freedom to plan an escape.
All Wards go through it. Maybe I’m naive, though, but this feels genuine. I look right into her wide, green eyes. “Why?”
She frowns at the question. “Why wouldn’t I? You did it. This is amazing!”
Amazing? No, I don't buy it. She never thought my work was amazing. I shake my head. “You hated it. It hurt, Juliet. It hurt more than you can imagine for you to be so afraid of what I was doing. You reported me—”
“I wasn't afraid of what you were doing. I was afraid of how. It was dangerous! Rushed. You had no safeguards and didn't want to hear a word I said." She pauses and looks away. "Believe me, I tried. You didn't want to hear it.”
Instant denial flares up, ready on my lips, but I hold it back. We’re not a married couple bickering. I’m her master. I need to be better than this.
And…
She has a point.
In those early days, when I first caught hold of the edge of what might be possible with Candice, I barely slept.
I worked into the night, every night, chasing what I’d just started to believe might become reality.
If I force my mind back, I can remember worried questions from Juliet.
Pleas to listen. Arguments. Slamming the door so I could get back to what really mattered.
Shit.
Her face is tight when she meets my gaze again. “Turning you in was the last thing I wanted. It made me sick, Hadrian. Physically sick, but I didn't know what else to do." Her eyes glisten. "And then you were just…gone.”
I shut down every attempt she made at contact. I tried to erase her from my thoughts. But the more I tried not to think about her, the more she crept into my brain. And look where we’ve ended up.
Not that I can pretend I regret it.
Juliet takes a deep breath, then asks a little too brightly. “So, if Candice didn’t poison you, who did? Who is the bad man?”
“That is a very good question.”
Bad man. Like the man Juliet was supposed to meet up with the night I took her? We still haven’t found him, and at this stage, I don’t think we will. He hid his tracks so effectively even Brotherhood resources couldn’t trace him.
Should I mention it to her now? I glance at the spot I know her burns are underneath her skirt.
She already suffered because of one asshole.
I don’t need to scare her with how close she might have come to it happening again.
Not yet, anyway. It wouldn’t do any good, and she’s happier and more alive than I’ve seen her. I don’t want to ruin it.
I have to speak to Kendrick and Jacob. The conversation isn’t going to be pretty, but the longer I hold off, the more danger we could be in. Only they will have access to the recording of the phone call. And only Kendrick can authorize me to turn Candice back on.
I need to know what is left of her. The thought makes my stomach clench.
I glance at the clock, then back at Juliet. I don’t want to leave this cozy bubble we’ve created, but I have to. There’s too much at stake to let it wait any longer. I get to my feet. “I need to get that recording. I’ll take you back to your cell.”
Her face drops, and it’s a stone in my guts. “My cell? But…”
“I can’t bring you with me, and it’s too soon for you to be alone.”
“What about Eve? I could—”
“Doll.” I force a snap into my words, and she jumps. “This isn’t a debate.”
Juliet clenches her fist but gets to her feet and mutters, “Yes, Master.”
Even now, the words give me a little thrill.
I have a sudden thought, and it’s almost enough to wipe away my fears.
This is what life could be like. There will be moments where we’re Hadrian and Juliet again, but we’ll never be just that.
She’ll always know I’m in control. Always understand that I own her.
It’s what she needs, and the longer we’re together outside of the cell, the more it’s starting to feel natural.
I take her hand and lead her out of the lab. The lights turn off behind us, plunging it into darkness.
I’m preoccupied throughout the walk back, wondering just how the hell I’m going to tell two stern, military-style men that my gym bag moved, and the lights flickered again. This time, they’ll really think I’ve cracked.
Juliet is quiet, too. I can’t blame her; she’s got a lot to process. As we reach the airlock corridor back into her cell, she pauses and turns to me. Her voice is serious as she asks, “Is it true? All of it. The Brotherhood…”
She watches my face closely, eyes narrowed, as I answer. “Yes. All of it. I promise.”
After a long silence, she gives a tiny nod. Does she really believe it? I know how crazy it must seem to her. It took months for me to accept it all myself. I want to stay and talk more, but each second that passes is drilling into me.
NOT ME. BAD MAN
Surely even Kendrick will see the danger? He’ll have to. But will it be enough to convince him Candice might not be to blame?
The silence starts to feel awkward as I lead Juliet back into her cell.
Just a few hours outside, and already, this feels strange.
Over the top. Unhinged. Maybe Kendrick was right.
Juliet heads straight for Charlie’s tank and checks on her, then begins the process of feeding her.
Mealworms. Almost as unpleasant as spiders, but I’ve gotten used to them, too.
I should probably make her remove the dress, but I’m itching to get moving and she’s in the middle of feeding Charlie. As Saldar, I wouldn’t have given any of this a second thought, but now, leaving without a goodbye feels kind of rude.
I need to be careful. I can’t let things slip too much.
I settle for, “I’ll be back later, doll.”
She looks up at me, face unreadable. “Yes. Master.” A long pause, and then, “Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
I exit the room before I can say anything stupid.
The door clicks behind me, and I hurry down the corridor and out into the office. The first thing that strikes me is the light. Instead of the bright fluorescents, the room is dim, bathed in eerie blood red. I freeze, take in the dead lights, then focus on the bank of monitors.
The screens, which are supposed to show Juliet’s prison, are all lurid red, each showing a timer. Two hours, and as I watch, it starts to count down. A single monitor changes, showing Juliet still engaged with Charlie, staring into the tank.
The monitor next to Juliet goes black. Words scroll, and my throat constricts.
THIS IS HOW LONG SHE HAS LEFT TO LIVE UNLESS YOU DO EXACTLY AS I SAY.