Chapter 3 #2
A murmur of excitement zinged across the room.
I looked up to see Halliwell strolling into “the Bridge,” as he called that front room with all of our workstations, the huge picture windows, the French doors to the huge terrace overlooking the ocean.
As if it were the helm of a ship. He was our fearless captain, and we were all on a dangerous journey to nowhere good.
The way the terrace outside was cantilevered way out over the high cliff, it actually seemed like we were in a steampunk airship, cleaving our way through the clouds.
“Stand up, you idiot!” my hell-sibling Dean hissed at me, from the next desk. “Do you want us to get slammed for disrespect?”
Disrespect, my ass. I did not spring up like a dog for a doorbell.
I deliberately finished the line of code I was working on and switched screens to cover my work.
A pointless gesture, since every keystroke on this machine was logged, but it was good form, and I would by God maintain good form, like a normal person.
This guy might have me by the throat with Reggie in his clinic, but that was no reason not be dignified.
I spun around in my chair. My hell-siblings were on their feet, like soldiers when a commanding officer entered a room, but they all had that nervous, pinched-but-hopeful look on their faces. Eyes blinking, shifting. Afraid to look at the big man, afraid to look away.
Jesus, what had he done to them? And would it happen to me eventually? I’d rather be dead than like them. Cringing, broken.
Of course, I couldn’t die. I had Reggie to think about.
But I was sure that the option of my early death was on the table, based on Mom’s hair-raising tales.
I could easily die in Halliwell’s lair. Others had, according to Mom, and their bones had never been found.
This place was like Bluebeard’s fucking castle.
Halliwell gave me a sardonic smile. “Ever the rebel, Cassandra?”
I looked him in the eye. I had not sworn any oaths to this man. I had not sold my soul. Just my labor and my IP. I did not have to play along with this dysfunctional Big Daddy schtick. “Not at all. Just conducting myself like a normal human being.”
“You do have a point.” Halliwell gazed around at his other offspring, a faintly bored, critical look in his eyes. “Your siblings should follow your example.”
Fucking yikes. I saw panicked confusion flash across their faces.
Poor bastards. They did as they’d been trained, and he humiliated them for not having the nerve to defy him?
That was so unfair. Halliwell must want me dead, or at least, completely isolated.
He blatantly favored me, but I would have preferred his abuse to his favor.
With no timeline for Reggie’s treatment, I was in a holding pattern with no clue what the future held.
Reggie seemed like she was just barely holding on in our video calls.
Nine weeks had gone by from the time that Lukas and Cirillo had told me that she only had two weeks left, so clearly, the people in Halliwell’s clinic were doing something right, even if they refused to share any of the details with me.
She was no longer gasping for breath, coughing, feverish.
But she wasn’t rosy and smiling, either. Her eyes looked hollow and sad. She reminded me of Mom, toward the end. Which scared me to death.
That fear kept me stuck here like a bug on a pin. I’d been maneuvered into this position with Reggie’s illness, and there was no way out. Maybe that had been Halliwell’s plan for me all along.
Scary thought. Like all my thoughts lately.
Halliwell was waiting for a response to that insult to the rest of his spawn, but I had nothing to say to him. Not while he held Reggie’s life in his hands.
I kept it bland. “Did you need something from me, Mr. Halliwell?”
“Yes, actually. I’m having a dinner tonight with the Hwang Group and their entourage, to celebrate the new partnership. You will accompany me.”
My guts clenched at the prospect, after yesterday’s base-jumping debacle and Jana’s disgrace. “Someone else should go this time,” I said. “I have to implement a new section of Glow-worm tomorrow to stay on track, so tonight is not the best—”
“What on earth made you think that your participation was optional?”
The tension in the room ratcheted up. It scared the shit out of my hell-siblings when I disagreed with Halliwell, or spoke my mind. Not that I could help myself. I was mouthy by nature. “Look, I’m trying to maximize my contribution to—”
“I’ll be the judge of where your contribution is most needed. Your dress and shoes have already been delivered to your apartment.”
Great. Random people had the access code to my living space and were free to enter at will. It bugged the shit out of me, but at the moment, it was the least of my problems. “I have evening gowns from other events. I don’t need another—”
“I didn’t like your makeup last time. The freckles are unattractive. I prefer a smooth, monochrome matte finish, no visible blotches or sun damage. We’ll have you seen by a dermatologist as soon as possible to see what can be done about that.”
I gasped like a beached fish. “Ah… ah—”
“Jana can help you. She’s quite competent with makeup. Oh, and blow out your hair. An up-do, I think. The Hwangs are very formal. Most of them are also quite short. If your heels are high and the hair is high… perfect. We’ll tower over them.”
“I don’t want to inconvenience Jana,” I said.
“Why not? She’s deadweight. She killed the buzz at yesterday’s party. She should be eager to make herself useful in whatever small ways she still can.”
Oh, ouch. I looked around. The air felt thick with dread. I was surrounded by hostile, dead-eyed, staring ghouls. God, how I missed my sweet Reggie.
Eyes on the prize, girl. Eyes on the prize. Reggie and me, together. Healthy, strong and free, and far away from here. I tried to picture it. Take strength from it.
“Well?” he prompted. “It takes time to blow out your hair. Get Jana. Hop to it.”
I went through the glass doors. The rain had eased off, but the wind was still cold and sharp, and the sea crashed wildly on the sharp rocks hundreds of feet below.
Jana was slowly pushing a mop, her movement limp and dispirited.
“Jana!” I called. “Come in here for a sec. Halliwell has a job for you.”
Jana’s eyes widened in alarm, but I was spared the necessity to coax her inside, because Halliwell followed me out onto the terrace. He looked around, disgusted.
“Good God, Jana. It looks worse than before, if that’s possible,” he said.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, looking everywhere but at him. “I’m going as fast as I can.”
“You’re stumbling around like a zombie. Sharpen up. Did you at least pack up the unused parachutes? It’s been raining all night. I don’t want them to mold.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw a wet parachute on the slate tiles. A swift shove with my toe slid it behind a potted madrona, out of his line of vision.
Crisis averted. Halliwell mercifully did not notice, his attention focused on the hollow-eyed Jana. “You will do Cassandra’s makeup and hair, if you can pull yourself together. Afterward, I’ve scheduled an appointment for you with Dr. Silvano. It’s time.”
Jana’s eyes froze wide. “Silvano?” she croaked. “Oh, no. No. Sir, please—”
“After you’ve taken care of that, get your ass back out here and stop dragging your feet. When I start work tomorrow morning, it needs to be immaculate.”
He turned and went inside. Jana’s haunted eyes flicked to the planter where I’d kicked the parachute.
“I thought he’d scolded you enough,” I explained.
“Don’t do me any favors,” she said. “Favors mean nothing here. You’re not my friend, and I’m not yours.” She turned away, and shuffled inside.
Well, hell and damn. No good deed went unpunished around here. I took a moment to open up the cabinet that held gardening supplies, and stuffed the parachute inside, just to be thorough. Then I followed her back into the Bridge.
Halliwell had just left. Everyone stared at me as I shut down my workstation. If looks could kill, I would have been flash-incinerated, my ashes floating on the breeze.
Jana and I went to my quarters without a word.
Her shoes squelched with every step. The apartment assigned to me was very beautiful, with picture windows and a big balcony that overlooked the ocean.
I let her in and stood there, tense and tongue-tied.
It wasn’t like I could make conversation with this woman in her current emotional state.
Jana stared out the picture window. I looked at her sodden hair, the bra showing through her soaked shirt. She was shivering. “Ah, do you want a towel?” I asked. “You could use the blow dryer, and I can give you some of my clothes, if you want to—”
“No. I’m fine.”
“But aren’t you cold? You should—”
“This apartment used to be Nicole’s. You never met her. She was Halliwell’s favorite, even though she crashed and burned in med school. I graduated top of my class in three different specialties, and he still hated my guts. Go figure.”
I didn’t know what to do with that. In my mind, being hated by Halliwell would be a shining badge of honor. “This is the Nicole who died a few months ago?”
“Murdered. She was murdered by the brother and sister of the prisoner on the eighth level. The Masters guy. Vincent was murdered by them, too. Shot to death.”
“Yes. Haley told me about that,” I said. “It sounded really terrible.”
“Halliwell’s still pissed about it,” she said.
“At least about Nicole. Not so much Vincent. Vincent was a pretty good engineer, but he was a whiny little shithead, and Halliwell would have flushed him eventually. By the way, the standard story is that they died in a car accident. If anyone asks tonight, that’s what you should say. ”
“Okay. I’m, ah… I’m so sorry for your loss.”