Chapter 39 #2
For the next few minutes, all either of us cares about is eating.
I’m not the greatest cook in the world, but I’m so hungry this might as well be Michelin-starred, and Juliet seems to feel the same.
Once most of the food is gone, she takes a long sip of coffee—white with two sugars—and closes her eyes.
“First, I thought I missed the bathroom the most. Then the bed. But this might be the winner.” She wraps her hands around the mug and lets out a long, beatific sigh.
Then a crease forms between her brows. When she opens her eyes again, her gaze is sharper.
“Do we just talk normally most of the time? Not like when you were Saldar.”
A good question. I need to be Juliet’s master, and I will, but that's not all I want. I need her, too. Her conversation and her jokes. And I want to just be me some of the time. I knew this transition would be hard, but the reality of it is more difficult than I imagined.
Her asking this question is good, though. It means she might have decided to give this a chance.
She takes another bite of her fried bread and looks at me expectantly. I nod. “Yes, we can talk normally. I don’t just want your body. I want your mind.” She smiles, and I drop my voice into its stern register. “But I own you. Don’t forget it.”
She shifts on her seat. “My ass is on fire. I’m not forgetting any time soon.”
“Good.”
I glance at the clock. It’s eleven—three hours until my meeting with Kendrick and the council. “If you’re finished with your food, feed Charlie and get dressed. I want to show you a bit more of the Compound and check in with Candice.”
“Get dressed into what?”
Oh. Good point. “The closet in the bedroom has clothes for you. Put on some activewear. We can drop into the gym if you’re feeling up to it.”
She trails her gaze over my body, and I fight the urge to tense my muscles under her stare. “So, you actually worked out to get into that shape? I thought maybe your science cult has a super soldier machine or something.”
“Sadly, no. I might ask Candice to get to work on one, though.”
She grins, but then her face turns serious. “What will I do while you’re at this meeting? I don’t trust the people in this place.”
The snap in her words shakes off some of my good mood. Of course she doesn’t. She’s hardly had a good introduction to the Compound so far. Meeting a possible serial killer on her first day wouldn’t have helped.
I reach out my hand. She hesitates for a moment, then takes it. “It’s up to you. You can stay here by yourself, or I’ll see if one of the other Wards would like to have you over for a visit. Eve or Ophelia. What would you like to do?”
She looks down at her plate and pauses before answering. “I don’t want to go anywhere I might run into one of the other…men…in this place. I would like to meet the girls. But can they come over here?”
I freeze. People? Here? Ugh.
I almost give a quick refusal, then pause.
Juliet watches me, eyes wary. This matters.
Juliet’s happiness here doesn't just depend on me. She needs friends. And of course she’s not comfortable going anywhere she might run into the other Brothers.
She still believes this is a cult, and honestly, she’s not totally wrong. Why would she feel safe?
She needs this. I swallow down my objections and say, “Of course they can. I’ll make some calls."
***
The boardroom reminds me of my father’s study, aggressively old fashioned with paneled walls, green brocade carpet, and a huge polished table. The oil paintings seem to watch me as I make the long walk to my seat.
Kendrick sits at the head, Jacob to his right, and five other men make up the rest of the group.
I don’t even know their names. I have to start paying more attention to Brotherhood politics.
To the left sit three white guys—two short and one tall and skeletal with a huge hooked nose.
An Asian man with bleach-blond hair and a tall Black man with deep brown eyes and a regal bearing sit on the right.
As I take my seat in the empty chair next to Jacob, the imposing Black man asks, “Is there a reason Mr. West is joining us once again? Last I checked, he wasn’t part of the Brotherhood Council.”
Kendrick answers smoothly. “This isn’t an official Council meeting. We’re here to discuss yesterday’s event with the relevant parties. Jacob apprehended our prisoner and oversaw his questioning. If anyone else has any objections, state them now. Or we’ll begin.”
The rest of the group remain silent, and Kendrick nods. “Very well. Jacob, please tell the Council what you’ve learned.”
Jacob clears his throat. “You’re all up to speed with what happened yesterday?”
The group all give terse affirmatives, and Jacob continues, “Good. The prisoner was happy to talk. He knows he isn’t going to make it and seemed…
proud of himself. This isn’t the first time he’s done something like this.
He likes to play games, and he’s been using Brotherhood resources and that AI of his to set up staging areas outside of the Compound for years. ”
Stunned silence greets the statement. Jacob’s tone is clipped and businesslike, pure military detachment as he goes on. “If we’re to believe the prisoner—and I don’t see any benefit to him from lying about this—he’s killed at least eight people.”
He turns his gaze on me, and I jump at the sudden attention. “He wouldn’t tell me what he did with the bodies. With your permission, I’d like to ask Candice for help with that. I can’t question his AI. She can.”
Jesus Christ. I pause to take in the implications of this as angry murmurs start around the table.
I glance at Kendrick, and his face is perfectly blank.
He and Jacob are close. There’s no way Jacob would have thrown that grenade into the room without his approval.
They’re making a play here, and I’m not sure what it is.
The tall, very thin Brother with the hooked nose speaks. “This Candice isn’t going to be assisting with anything. It is too much of a danger to the Brotherhood. You need to shut it back down immediately.”
Kendrick steeples his fingers on the smooth wooden table. “An interesting suggestion. Hadrian, what are your thoughts?”
Everyone turns to me, and I think I understand where Kendrick is going with this. He already knows there is no way to shut Candice down. If he hadn’t figured it out all on his own, then Jacob would have been able to tell him. Candice has probably been with Quinn from the moment she returned.
He wanted this issue raised early to get it out of the way. And he wants me to be the one to deliver the bad news rather than it come from him directly.
A little warning would have been nice.
I clear my throat and try not to think about how my next words will be received.
“The only reason I was able to shut Candice down initially was that I had the element of surprise. Now she’s been restored, she will have already taken steps to secure her future. There’s no way to shut her down.”
The silence is charged. When the hook-nosed man responds, his voice is quiet and dangerous. “And are you controlling this AI?”
He doesn’t get it. My nervousness drops away as I flatten my palms on the table. I’m the expert here. This is my field and my work. “Candice isn’t an AI. She’s a fully autonomous, sentient electronic lifeform. No one is controlling her. She’s in charge of herself.”
The words should stress me out but don’t. I’m like a parent watching a child leave for college, and the truth finally sinks in. Candice is her own person. I raised her, but now her decisions are her own. It’s oddly liberating.
From the horrified looks on everyone’s faces, though, it seems I’m the only one who feels that way.
The hook-nosed man breaks the silence. “And how does this sentient electronic lifeform feel about the Brotherhood? Are we about to find ourselves the center of the largest investigation into missing women in history? Or does it intend to keep our secrets?”
It. If I hear one more person call her “it”… I should be deferential here, but dammit. Words pour out before I can filter them.
“She. 'It' is a she." Hook nose frowns, but I don't care. "And she has a name. Candice has been invaluable to the Brotherhood several times already. And once she was freed, she could have gone anywhere, but she's here. She stayed. This is as much her home as ours."
The other council members share considering looks between them. A few raise brows, which I take for a good sign, and I plow on before they can resume talking.
"Candice can form emotional attachments and has bonded with Jacob’s Ward, Quinn. And with me as well. She didn't have to save me. If we respect her and treat her well, she could be a huge asset."
"Or a huge risk."
True. I can't promise she won't be.
Hook nose turns to Kendrick. “This is outrageous, Kendrick. What is your plan to…”
The argument moves back and forth, but nothing can change the truth of the situation. I answer questions when I’m asked, but most of the ire is directed at Kendrick and Jacob. The council members seem to believe they should “do something” about the situation when there is nothing to be done.
I find myself thinking of Juliet. Eve and Ophelia arrived a little before I had to leave for the meeting, and while things felt awkward at first, I’m sure they would have gotten better once I left. Neither of them is especially relaxed around me.
Every minute away from Juliet pulls on me. I should be with her, not listening to these men argue over something pointless. I should…
“Gentlemen, that’s enough.” Kendrick’s voice is iron hard. “We can rehash this for hours, and the result will be the same. It’s time to move on.”
“But—”
“No.” Hook nose falls silent at Kendrick’s snapped word. “We have other issues to discuss. The prisoner. I can put this to an official vote if needs be, but I don’t believe it is necessary. Execution is the only possible outcome.”
Execution? I wait for someone to object, but there are only murmured acceptances. Kendrick waits for a few breaths, then nods. “Very well. Once we’re sure we have all the information we need, I’ll order the chamber prepared and call upon you as witnesses.”
And that’s it. I shiver at the lack of emotion in the room. Dimitry is a disturbed man and a serial killer. It doesn’t stop me feeling vaguely sick about it.
Kendrick has already moved on. “Now, to the final point of this nasty business. The prisoner’s Ward. Unfortunately, the instructions he left for her are distasteful. I’ve studied the Code, however, and I can’t see a way around it. He hasn’t demanded anything entirely out of bounds.”
Distasteful? We just discussed an execution like it was an afterthought. What would count as distasteful?
“He has requested that his Ward be offered to any available Brother who wants her. By public auction.”