Chapter 9 Con #2
“Where are you?” he blurted when I put the call on speaker.
“About to get on the ferry to Arran.”
“We’ve intercepted something. Unusual communications from a facility near Dundee. Similarly encrypted to what we tracked from the St. Petersburg connection.”
“Give us forty-five minutes, and meet us at Blackmoor.”
“Copy that. See you then.”
I ended the call and looked over at her.
“We should head back,” Lex said, her eyes boring into mine.
“We should do.” I maneuvered my vehicle out of the ferry line. “Another time, though, yes?”
“I’d like that.”
Back in the ops hub, Lex, Gus, and I huddled over the data he’d transmitted. The communications were heavily encoded, but certain things stood out.
“This section here.” Lex pointed to a sequence on the screen. “The structure is distinct. It’s Orlov’s. I recognized it from a conference he presented at years ago.”
“So he’s in Scotland, not Russia?” I leaned closer, our shoulders touching.
“Not necessarily. But his work certainly is.” She glanced at me, our faces unexpectedly close. “He could be directing this remotely.”
For hours, the three of us worked side by side, breaking down the ciphered communications and forming hypotheses.
“I’d really like to have Dr. McLaren take a look at this.”
My first reaction was to say no. However, recalling what she’d said earlier, I kept quiet.
“I’ll ring her in the morning,” she said, stifling a yawn.
“Time for me to go,” said Gus, standing and stretching. “I’m famished.”
“Apologies. I could have Mrs. Thorne make something.”
“And have my mum get wind of it? No thanks,” he joked.
We walked him upstairs, and after we’d said good night, I asked Lex if she was hungry too.
“Not really. I could go for a brandy, though.”
We went into the library, falling into an easy conversation about what our parents’ hopes and dreams were for us when we were young.
“The expectation was always that I’d take over Blackmoor, which I did do after my father passed. Just not in the way he imagined, I’m sure.”
“What about your mum?” she asked.
“They divorced when I was at university. She remarried a bloke from the States. I don’t see her often. What about you?”
“My father wanted me to study literature,” she confessed with a soft laugh. “He was horrified when I chose computer science. ‘Machines have no soul,’ he told me. I’ve spent my career trying to prove him both right and wrong.”
“How so?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“While he was right about the machines themselves, they reflect the souls of their creators,” she said, her expression thoughtful. “That’s why ethics in AI development matters so much. We’re creating mirrors of ourselves, for better or worse.”
“That’s why Labyrinth terrifies me.”
When the clock chimed twelve, I was stunned at how late it was. “We should get some rest,” I said reluctantly.
“We should.”
We made our way up the stairs and I was about to open her door when Lex’s mobile chimed with an incoming message. Her face paled as she read it.
“What is it?” I asked, instantly alert.
She handed me the phone. The message was short but chilling.
Your room isn’t as private as you think. They’re watching. Listening. Trust no one at Blackmoor.
A cold fury rose in me, compounded by fatigue and frustration. Someone was deliberately trying to make her feel unsafe in my home. I removed my mobile and scanned the corridor for listening devices, then took her arm gently.
“Let me check your room,” I said, my voice low but firm.
I entered and conducted a thorough sweep, checking for any type of intrusion. The search revealed nothing, which almost worried me more than finding something would have.
“It appears clean,” I said, pocketing my mobile.
“That doesn’t make the message any less disturbing,” she replied, arms crossed protectively over her chest. For the first time since I’d met her, Lex looked genuinely rattled. The confident, challenging woman had momentarily given way to someone vulnerable.
“I don’t think you should stay here tonight,” I began, then immediately clarified when her eyebrows rose. “I mean in this room. There are other guest suites, or—”
“Or?”
The word hung between us as I stepped closer. “You could stay with me. Not here. In the west wing.”
Her head cocked.
“It’s where I usually sleep.”
She looked up at me. “Usually?”
I motioned to the adjoining suite. “I wanted to remain close.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I just—” I couldn’t say which of us moved first. One moment, we were standing apart. The next, my hands were in her hair and her arms were around my neck, our lips meeting in a kiss that sent scorching heat through my veins. Her body felt warm and solid against mine. Perfect, really.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, she kept her hands on my shoulders as if steadying herself. I felt equally unbalanced, caught in a current I hadn’t planned to navigate.
“That was…” she began.
“Yes,” I agreed, knowing exactly what she meant. “Come with me.”
I led her to the other side of the castle and into my suite. Unlike those upstairs, this entire wing was wired to detect any intrusion, including from electronic devices.
“I’ll, uh, give you a few minutes to, err, get ready for bed.”
She stepped closer and rested her hands on my chest. “You’ve never done this, have you?”
I raised a brow. “Well, ahem, perhaps a time or two…”
She smiled. “Not that. I mean, invite a woman into your bed just to sleep.”
“You’re probably right. Do you think you’ll be able to? Sleep, I mean.” I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
She leaned into my touch, her eyes closing briefly. “I don’t know.”
“Come,” I said, leading her over to the bed. We lay on the mattress, her in my arms, removing only our shoes. And when I felt Lex’s breathing even out, I allowed myself to sleep too.
The next time I opened my eyes, I was stunned to see light streaming in through the windows. More, that Lex was no longer beside me.