Chapter Thirty-Five
Juliet
I want to draw but can’t make my hands obey. I’m back in my cell, but it’s not permanent. I stare at the door and can’t hold back a smile. Soon, I’ll walk out of it again. I’ll walk out of it, and Hadrian will be with me. The real one, not the character he’s been playing.
I’ve missed him so much.
I didn’t know how much until I saw a glimpse of it today as he talked me through creating Candice.
He thought I hated his work; I never realized that until now.
I should have worked harder to make him understand why I was so scared of what he was doing.
It was never his goal that scared me—it was his reckless obsession.
Sad that it took him kidnapping me for us to finally talk about all this properly.
I go to draw a line on the page, and my pencil lead snaps. Right. It’s a sign. I’m getting nothing useful done any time soon. I stand to investigate the replenishing chest when the door clicks.
He’s back. He only just left. Is it bad that not a single part of me is upset about it? I drop to my knees, but the look on Hadrian’s face as he enters the room freezes the smile on my face. Something is wrong. Really, really fucking wrong.
Hadrian is deathly pale, and he comes to a stop just inside the door and pauses, hand still resting on the door. He doesn’t close the door behind him, and his hand shakes as it falls to his side. All thoughts of protocol and training leave my head as I get to my feet. “What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t answer, just stares at me, and I cover the distance between us. When I reach him, I hesitate. His chest rises and falls as if he’s just run a marathon. “Hadrian? What is it?”
He doesn’t correct me on the use of his name. If that isn’t a red flag, then I don’t know what is. His voice is raspy. “You need to go. Out into the office. Now.”
I just look at him as my brain tries to process the words. I need to go? As in, just me? Without him? My mouth is suddenly dry. “I don’t understand.”
He rubs a hand through his hair, and it makes it stick up just like it used to. It could be funny, except nothing is funny about the expression on his face. It’s like he’s staring into his own coffin. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and grips my arms.
“Juliet. There’s no time to explain. Go. Now.” He glances around the cell before adding, “And take Charlie.”
The last instruction is what tips me over the edge from unease into terror. I shake out of his grasp, and he lets me go, hands dropping limp to his sides. “What the hell? Tell me what the fuck is going on!”
He shoots a glance up at the ceiling, and it sends a fresh shiver down my spine. I can’t see the cameras in here, but I know there are some—and I’d bet my fucking house he just looked at them. Someone is watching us. He can’t tell me what’s going on because someone doesn’t want him to.
Am I being paranoid? I’d love to say yes, but I don’t think so. I jump when Hadrian moves, storming over to Charlie’s tank and snatching it up. I’m frozen to the spot as he deposits it outside, then whirls back to face me.
This time, the lost look is gone from his face; there’s only resolve. “Out. Now.”
“No. I—”
He’s over to me in two strides, then wraps his arms around me and lifts me off my feet. For a second, I’m too stunned to struggle, but then I twist in his grip as he hauls me out of the door. Once we’re in the bare corridor, he sets me on my feet.
“What’s going on? Talk to me, please. We can—”
He grips my hair and pulls me in for a kiss.
I should fight it. I should, but there’s something so desperate about the way he’s holding me that I can’t make myself do it.
He presses me to his hard chest, and I part my lips.
I melt against his body as he kisses me roughly, the type of kiss that will leave my lips bruised.
He tightens his grip in my hair, and the jolt of pain leaves my knees weak.
I wrap my arms around his back, clinging to him, though I’m not sure why. Everything about this is wrong, wrong, wrong. He breaks the kiss before I’m ready and stares into my eyes.
I gather enough breath to ask, “Hadrian, what’s—”
“I love you.”
What?
I’ve heard those words a million times before, but I never thought I’d hear them again. Now, there’s an ominous color to them, and my stomach drops even further. It feels like goodbye. How can it? He kidnapped me. What the fuck is going on?
Before I get the chance to ask, Hadrian shoves me away. I stumble, drop to one knee to keep from face planting, and before I can get to my feet, he’s gone. The door to my cell slams shut, sealing him inside.
What the hell?
Why?
The metal door is smooth against my hand. I press my palm to the opening device, but it doesn’t even beep. I slam my hand against it and yell. “Hadrian. Hadrian! What the fuck? Let me in!”
It’s not completely lost on me that I’m demanding to be let back into my prison cell and that I might have lost my mind, but I don’t care. I can’t shake the feeling that if he doesn’t open that door, I’ll never see him again. My chest constricts, solid bands wrapping it.
No. I’ve only just got him back.
I get no response. Can he hear me? Probably not. I never heard a single sound when I was in my cell. I hammer the door again anyway, so hard it jars my wrist, before a sound distracts me. The click of a disengaging lock.
Relief floods me for a second until my brain catches up. It wasn’t the door to my cell, but the other one, the door leading to the outside world. Someone has opened it, and it can’t be Hadrian. So who?
NOT ME. BAD MAN.
Is this his doing? It’s too much of a coincidence not to be. I give the door one last, useless push, then grab Charlie’s tank, race to the other end of the corridor, and rip the door open. I’ll find someone to help. Maybe Eve or the big guy. Someone.
I step into the office, freezing on the threshold.
The ugly fluorescents are dead, and the only light comes from the bank of monitors.
One screen shows Hadrian still at the door.
His head is pressed to it, hands splayed on the wood as if he’s trying to hear through it.
My heart lurches. Maybe he could hear my shouting. Maybe he wishes he still could.
The other monitors, though, strip my attention away from Hadrian. They all show numbers, counting down. 1:21:02. The bright red screens give off an ugly glow, turning the basic office into something sinister. What are they counting down for?
What happens when they hit zero?
Deep in my gut, I know.
The weird way Hadrian acted, the sick look on his face, tells me everything. Something terrible happens when that counter hits zero. He thinks he’s going to die. My hands shake, and I set Charlie’s tank down on the desk before I drop it.
Charlie. Hadrian made sure her tank was out of the cell.
Why? Because something is going to happen in that room, and he didn’t want her to get hurt.
My imagination has always run wild, and my mind fills with potential doomsday scenarios.
The whole cell filling with water. Fire burning through it.
Poison gas. Anything is possible, and if I don’t move now, it might be too late to stop it.
Get help. Stop wasting time.
When I reach the outside door and it doesn’t open, I scream.
A real, bloody scream that hurts my own ears.
Of course it doesn’t fucking open. It’s high-tech and electronic, like everything in this goddamn place.
Whoever is running that countdown is controlling the lock.
Why couldn’t it just have been a normal fucking door?
I stalk back over to the monitors and am about to start tearing into whatever asshole is no doubt watching me when something catches my eye. A flickering pixel. The rhythmic pattern jumps out at me straight away. Morse code again. And subtle enough that the cameras won’t be able to see it.
I can’t act suspicious. I flop into the chair, as if frustrated, and call out, “What the hell is going on? Why can’t I get outside?”
There’s no answer, but I focus on the tiny light.
Stay still. I loop feed.
My body tingles as I slump in the chair.
The same basic speech pattern, but the Morse is stronger this time.
Smooth, not jittery, as if the speaker is gaining confidence.
Is it Candice? It’s the only explanation I can think of.
Some part of her escaped when Hadrian shut her down, and now she’s getting stronger.
Is she really capable of looping the video? It seems like an advanced operation for a fragment of an AI, but maybe I don’t understand what is difficult for an electronic creation. Maybe speech is hard, but tampering with a video is easy.
Hadrian is still motionless on his monitor, staring at my sketch pad. Will he show up on the looped feed and tip off the watcher? Will the numbers counting down show a glitch? Or has she thought of all that?
There are too many variables here, and I don’t even know what the threat is. Trusting everything to an AI would be hard at the best of times, and I have no idea what this fractured part of Hadrian’s masterpiece is capable of.
But I can’t see any other options.
I stay still, maintaining a dejected, slumped pose, until the flickering starts again.
Outer door open. Go to lab.
The outer door? If she’s opening doors, why couldn't she just unlock my cell and let Hadrian out? I’m dying to ask but don’t dare speak. Maybe that door is special. Or maybe whoever is doing all this is watching him too closely for a looped feed to work.
Hurry. Can’t hide long.
Shit. It’s enough to get me moving.
I stand up, then freeze, waiting for…something. I don’t know what. An explosion. Or a “You there!” It makes no sense. Even if they can see me, I’m allowed to move, but it still takes work to get myself moving again as adrenaline dumps into my system.
Why does my panic response have to be freeze? So unhelpful.
Once my muscles unlock, I head for the door.
This time, it swings right open. Fear tries to stop me in place, but I close the door behind me and stare at the weird, village-like street.
Where was his lab? In the big building at the far end of what seems to be the main strip.
Thank fuck my sense of direction is better than Hadrian’s.
I’m still dressed in the outfit Hadrian gave me. A dress and slip-on sandals aren’t ideal running gear, but it’ll have to do. I race off. I’ve lost some cardio fitness, but it shouldn’t take me longer than five minutes to get there.
To get there and do what, exactly?
I let my feet take over, speeding toward the big building as questions churn round and round in my head.
Should I trust this ghost? Shouldn’t I find people to tell about what is happening so they can try and fix it?
But that would take a long time. There would be questions.
Discussions. By the time it all got sorted out, it might be too late.
Shouldn’t you be trying to escape?
The thought almost makes me stumble, but I right myself and keep up my steady pace. I’m a captive. I’m now sort of free. Why wasn’t it the first thing that popped into my head? And why, even after I’ve thought of it, am I still not changing direction?
I love you.
That intense kiss.
Him looking at me like I’m something he can’t stand to lose. That’s why. However fucked up and wrong this all is, I can’t leave him to whatever happens when that timer reaches zero.
I speed up. I pass a few people, some of whom glance at me but not with any major interest. It’s so normal that it threatens to start weirding me out again, but I push on. I can worry about all that later when this—whatever the hell this it is—is dealt with.
By the time I reach Hadrian’s lab building, I’m sweating, and my breath is coming hard. Definitely out of condition. I pause at the door, which has another hand scanner, but it swooshes open. Candice seems to have the locks handled.
I stare at the elevator. Shit. Which floor was it again? Does Candice have control over that, too? I wait, hoping it will appear by magic, but it doesn’t.
Fuck.
I don’t have Hadrian’s perfect memory, and so much has happened today. Everything is turning into a blur. I close my eyes, aware of every lost second. It wasn’t a long trip. Third or fourth floor, maybe? I hit third and hope for the best.
Luck is on my side, because as soon as the doors slide open, I recognize Hadrian’s lab. I stand in front of the door and wait.
Nothing happens.
Where is the magical click? I press my hand to the palm sensor, but it doesn’t work. My clammy skin turns chilled as cooled air blows over me, and I shiver.
“Candice?”
I don’t even feel ridiculous talking to a disembodied AI creation. I just want a response. Something. I can almost see the timer ticking down.
I slap the door. “Candice? Are you there?”
Nothing happens. Behind me, the elevator chimes. Someone is here.