by Kim Knox
Her suddenly hard and painfully aroused dick jerked her back. She froze and her face flushed. The simulacrum of Lucas worked too well.
Paul wiped his mouth, a slow deliberate action, and closed his eyes. “I may have nightmares for the rest of my short life.”
“Paul…”
“Vyn.” A soft laugh escaped him. “It’s fine.” He straightened her tie and brushed a quick hand over the shoulders of her jacket. “Ready?”
She pulled in a breath, still tasting him on her lips and tongue, mixed with Goodman’s own scent. She wasn’t ready. She lied anyway. “Yes.”
“Good. We go in, you buy me time, I enact the protocol and you try to get us out. The minute Mylonas goes down, it’s going to get fierce. They will have their own security, equal to my skills, my access.” He didn’t look at her. “And access to you.”
“Understood.”
“All right then.” He waved a hand at the wide doors. Hinges groaned and the doors parted. “Good luck.”
“To us both.”
The conference room was a vast space, open to the sky under a great curve of glass, with the sun just climbing up from the flat horizon into a cloudless dawn sky. Clean air wrapped around her, unlike any she had ever tasted, sweet and warm…
Vyn remembered who she was and strode towards the knot of people on the far side of the open room. The simulacrum of Goodman fitted her to perfection and she let it have some rein, allowing the man’s natural rhythm to take over. She had to look like him, just for a short while before everything went sideways. Though how she was going to distract the Tydeus CEO was beyond her. She had to try. Paul was already drawing in the disparate threads that could fracture and destroy her mind.
“Ms. Mylonas.”
A woman in her late thirties broke from the group. Tall, slender, her stark business suit a contrast to the touches of glamour gliding her body. Perfect, almost seamless, it tightened her skin, added the chestnut lustre to her hair, brightened her sensual smile. “We decided on Dia. And you kept me waiting, Lucas.”
Vyn met her smile. She was glad the skin that covered her had some disconnection from her own as tension held her. Goodman had slept with her. Sleeping with the Tydeus CEO had been a part of the negotiations. She directed a sharp curse back at Ossian for throwing her into a snake pit, but she did have her chance to buy Paul time. “Dia—” she let her smile slide into something warm, smooth and seductive, “—I apologise.”
The woman’s gaze flicked to Paul, who stood silent and solid at her shoulder. “I saw your kiss, Lucas.” Her head tilted and the heat in her gaze broke the sudden burst of panic about to engulf Vyn. Saw, not heard. Her sense of the place, the way her skin interacted with the virtual world, hadn’t given her any idea that Dia had access too. “He seems biddable. And he’s pretty. I say we include him in our games.”
A dark, hot curl of what Vyn could only label as jealousy burned in her chest. The unexpected sensation of wanting to punch the woman itched across her knuckles. She had to ignore it. The more Dia was focused on sexual athletics, the less she would be focused on the slow flame that Paul pulled in via the protocol.
Vyn let her gaze slide over Paul. Guilt pricked at her for treating him like meat. “What would you suggest?”
“I have heard rumours…” Dia traced her fingers along the edge of Paul’s jacket lapel. “You have another level, another Hall in the Mind, above and separate from the ones we’ve already shared.”
Had Goodman had any interest in commerce with this woman? Or was it all about hiding sex under the convenience of a series of meetings? Perhaps. Though Ossian had said that Fomorians were vanishing…then again, Ossian—Hugo—was a lying, two-faced shit.
Vyn pressed for information from the system, asking short, silent questions, but not wanting too much depth. She’d grown up in the executive band and they had always tried to ape the excesses of the First Family. What she knew from that time still made her skin crawl.
There. She found it layered under locks, a place that Dia hadn’t accessed. Her stomach sank. Could she expect anything less from the Goodmans? She dropped her voice, leaning in to brush her mouth over Dia’s ear. She tasted skin, lightly scented with jasmine. “Ah, you mean the Hall of Tiberius?”
A delicate flush highlighted Dia’s cheeks. Whoever had created her glamour was a true artist.
“And you believe you’re ready?”
The pulse at Dia’s throat jumped, her fingers gripping Paul’s lapel. He didn’t move, didn’t flicker. Was he used to witnessing these situations? Vyn’s stomach twisted. Had he played his part before? The Hall of Tiberius was a depraved place, even for the Halls, and the Tydeus CEO was excited at putting him at its heart.
“Others can be satisfied with the lesser Halls, but I agreed to this last meeting for precisely this, Lucas.”
Vyn lifted an eyebrow, holding her darkened gaze. She had to ignore the bile wanting to choke her. She was buying Paul time. She could feel it, the invisible threads of the protocol weaving around the woman. Her heart thudded. “And what would you like?”
Dia’s attention returned to Paul, a sharp little smile cutting her mouth. “I want to practice on him.” She pressed herself against him, one hand snaking down his side to grip his backside. She squeezed and Paul’s expression didn’t flicker. “I’ve heard rumours, of how the Hall is…powered. How it holds its darkness. And if we are to continue our affiliation, I must experience everything your company has to offer.”
The woman knew about the vanished. Ossian had said that Goodman was trading out the Halls. The Mind was their main product, after all. But the organic technology carved into her skin, the horror of the vanished trapped under the tower, their personalities and creativity feeding the virtual depravity? He’d been an idiot to trade access to those too. She wondered what Dia was offering in exchange for something so powerful. Two generations of Goodmans had protected the secret carved into her skin. Dia would use what she learned to destroy the life of another child, rip the thoughts from those who moved against her. And for a long second, she didn’t feel guilty about what she had done to the real Goodman. Or what they were about to do to Dia Mylonas.
Vyn’s heart hammered. It was almost time. The threads thickened. She could feel them weaving around Dia, whips of fire and the promise of pain. She grasped for a way out, chasing information, pulling it to her, aware that she couldn’t feel, couldn’t see the movement of Dia’s people. She had to cling to some belief that they would get out alive. “He’s all yours.”
Dia’s mouth, almost level with Paul’s, hovered over his lips, her teeth shark-bright. She pulled his bottom lip, hard. A spot of blood stained his skin…and then he took her mouth.
Vyn froze. She had firsthand knowledge of that mouth, the wanton power of it, and wanted a lot more. Seeing him…devouring another woman stabbed at her. She told herself this was a part of the deception, she knew it, seeing the threads almost opaque around Dia’s body. But the sounds of pleasure the woman made…
They changed. Paul fisted his hand in her perfect hair, swallowing screams, Dia’s fingers clutching at him. Her brown eyes widened, and pain pushed her veins into darkened lines against her skin, breaking the perfection of her glamour.
“Madam!” One of her security officers surged forward.
Paul ripped his mouth away. He spat. “Get us out of here.”
In the next heartbeat, Dia Mylonas was gone.
Vyn stared at the space the woman had occupied. Dia was dead. Ripped from the Mind, as she had dragged Lucas from the upper tier.
Paul leapt forward to meet the Tydeus guards. He was a blur of fists and kicks, preternaturally fast, using the access he had to the Mind to shatter the thoughts of the guards, shock them, defend her.
Her brain kicked into gear. Now she had to play her part. Vyn yanked at every connection she had, fighting to break them out of the Mind’s grip. Something blocked her, ran fire through her flesh and trapped her, them. Her body ran with pai
n. She would not die. A hard smile cut her mouth. She had a date.
Vyn dropped to her knees, agony rippling through her flesh. Her thoughts clouded. It was impossible. All access had been denied her by Tydeus blocks. They had their claws deep.
She caught Paul’s eye, a blistering moment of realisation passing between them. It was over. He couldn’t win against them and neither could she.
There was only one final thing she could do. One thing that would end everything for the upper tier and the Halls. She reached for the minds of the vanished, felt their frozen thoughts caught between one neuron firing and the next and the power of that one pulsing moment. Her will surged. And she freed them, fracturing the Hall of Tiberius.
The screams of hundreds swept over her, lost, terrified, falling into her, until she was drowning in the waking minds of the vanished. Her last thoughts—weak, desperate—enveloped Paul, held him close as agonising fire dragged her down.
Chapter Eleven
Vyn jerked upright, a cry exploding from her. Her heart hammered. The warm, metallic air wrapped around her, choking her, and she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t pull in a fresh breath. The fire in her chest was almost overwhelming, the strained heaving flashing more panic through her.
“Bran-seven!”
Ossian’s voice cut into her, harsh and quick. Her old friendship with him kicked in and her panic eased, the first gulp of air finding its way into her lungs. She crushed her eyes shut, her fist pushed against her breastbone, and took a slow, slow breath. Tears streaked her skin. “What was that about, Ossian—Hugo—whoever the fuck you are now.”
“What did you do, Vyn?”
A hard smile tugged at her mouth and she didn’t answer. He could wait. She turned and the fear hit her again. Paul hadn’t moved. Had she ghosted him, made him little more than a shadow? Worse, sent him to the same fate that had taken Dia Mylonas? Her fingers hovered over his cheek, terrified to touch him, to discover the reality of whether he was alive or dead.
“Vyn…” Ossian’s use of her name grated through her.
“Don’t use that,” she muttered. “You Goodmans are freaks.”
She swallowed, her throat tight and still raw. Her touch moved closer to Paul’s temple. She wanted to believe that she could see the quick throb of a vein under his skin, but the lighting was low and heavy with shadow.
Pulling in her courage, Vyn laid a light fingertip against his skin. Her heart laboured and endless seconds dragged by. He had to be alive. The same thought rolled over and over, burned into her skull, stabbing deeper than her scars. “Paul, come on. You have a debt to pay.”
There. And again.
Her heart turned over, the sudden fierce pain in her chest breaking a gasp from her. She let her forehead sink, fall against his cheek and find his scent, familiar, mixed with sweat and metal. “You do this to me again and I’m killing you myself.”
His strained chuckle brought a smile to her mouth. “Deal.”
She pulled away and another hit of panic smacked into her. She’d just pulled down the upper tier of the Mind. Broken the virtual world of the First Family and the executive band, shattered their commerce and depraved fun. What remained of the board would be forced into action. Everywhere would be locked down. They had to get out.
Around her the low groans of metal filled the small room. With the system in chaos, Ossian wouldn’t be able to control the minds of the security personnel still littering the floor. “We have to go.”
Ossian glared at her and lifted the touch pad, the red glow burning under Liam’s jaw. “What did you do?”
She yanked the wires from her skull, unwrapped the net and flung the simulacrum at him. He wanted her gear. He could have it. “I took out the upper tier. Broke out the vanished. Pulled apart the Halls.”
Her former friend blinked and then a wry and disbelieving smile touched his mouth. He bent to pick up the tangle of wires and connectors that had dropped at his feet, his thumb stroking over their circuitry. “I didn’t think that was possible. Even for you.”
Vyn frowned. “What?”
He tossed her the touchpad and she caught it in clumsy fingers, her heart in her throat. Quick presses deactivated it and the glow around Liam died away. She let out a hot breath, willing her heart to slow. She shoved the device into her pocket. Beside her Paul rose to his feet. He held her arm as a dull vibration rippled across the floor.
“You should go.” Ossian stood away from the vent. “Before they lock down the borders.”
Her attention darted to Paul as he squatted beside his brother and gently turned his jaw. The gaunt man’s eyes flickered open and a smile tugged at Paul’s mouth. “Enjoy your sabbatical?”
“Yeah.” Liam swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He tried to lift his hand, but the effort was too much. It flopped back to his thigh. “Travelled. Got drunk. Was wildly…inappropriate five times.”
Laughter broke from Paul, and he pulled him into a hug, his face buried in his hair. He fisted Liam’s jacket, his brother’s body lax in his arms. Paul’s shoulders shook and he murmured something, Vyn too aware of the break in his voice. A fist gripped her heart and tears burned. She had to turn away from their private moment.
She looked back at Ossian. His eyes were shining. “I don’t understand any of this.” He’d just forced Paul to kill, forced her to wipe out his cousin, and yet he was pleased she’d released the vanished? “Don’t understand you at all.”
“I want the company. Always have.” He gave her a familiar smile and it felt…strange. Was any part of the man she’d known real? “I’m a Goodman. Corporate backstabbing is in my blood. But I wanted it my way.” He stared around the small metal room. “Not with this…obscenity.”
“You’ve destroyed your company.” Liam had lost consciousness again and Paul gripped his unconscious brother’s wasted body, lifted him and settled him securely over his shoulders. His eyes narrowed. “I should kill you.”
“But you won’t. I gave you her.”
Vyn blinked, staring between the two men. “What?”
Ossian’s mouth cut into a sharp smile. He waggled his slim fingers. “I worked a little deft magic and put him in the position of guarding you, gave him the opportunity to find out about you, about your connection to his brother. When the Tydeus threat hit, when what you were kicked in and forced you to build the simulacrum, it was time for me to move.
“I let him believe you were in the next sweep of Fomorians to be brought to this place. Paul took more of an interest in you than I planned. A useful advantage. And you were very thorough in watching over her, weren’t you, Paul?”
“Fuck you.” His words were a growl. “Vyn. Move.”
Before she could formulate a reply, the door she’d opened, the one that had burned with the patterns on her skin, grated and parted. The slow push of a husk rasped through the darkness into the dim light.
Ossian snapped his fingers to get her attention. “Go. Your scars are broken. You no longer have any hold here.”
Paul touched the small of her back and she jerked forward. Her mind was still caught in the insanity of the night. She knew she had to run, had to get as far away from the Corporation as she could, but still she had to ask. “Why, Ossian? Organic gear is almost…magical.”
For a moment, a heaviness weighed on, reflected in the darkness of his eyes. “And at what cost? Hundreds of Fomorians and dissenters. Liam, you—” he pushed back the cuff of his long sleeve and the light caught thin slivers of scarring, like hers, “—me.”
Vyn’s stomach turned over. His father and uncle had experimented on their own flesh and blood first, hunting for their perfect skin. “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t care. His hacker gleam was back. “Now I have the company, I have simulacrum without binding organics, I will have a vast store of new gear-heads grateful to me for releasing them—”
“Ossian, you should get help.”
He shrugged. “I’m crazy. It’s in the blood.”
> “Vyn…”
Paul’s quiet voice cut into her frustration, her regret that all of this disaster could’ve been avoided some other way. So many dead and shadowed… She found the supports in the wall that lifted her to reach the ladder. She hauled herself up. “Enjoy whatever’s left of your empire…Hugo.”
“I intend to. The company will be different. I will be different.”
She’d always known her former friend was odd, twisted. They lived in S-District. Everyone was strange there. And how stupid was she not to have known it was him playing her? “You do what you have to.”
She scrambled up the ladder, Paul in her wake, his breathing laboured as he carried the unconscious weight of his brother.
Her fingers dug into the metal lid of the entrance. She shoved and momentum slid it back into the wall of the vent with a dull clang. Vyn hauled herself out onto the wet grass, and the cold air, moistened with recent rain, was bliss to her aching lungs. But she couldn’t relax. It still wasn’t over.
She steadied Paul as he emerged with the uneven weight of his brother. “Keep moving, Vyn. I’m good.”
She did as she was told, winding her way through the small copse and out into the low-lying bushes. The ache in her chest from a breath she didn’t know she was holding eased. There was no ripple of air. The security around the tower was down, compromised. Good for them getting to the vehicle, maybe not so good for getting across the border as every security officer scrambled to protect the Corporation.
“Right,” Paul said, and she beat a new path through the bushes.
Overhead, the piercing whine of vehicles ripped the darkness, the bright points of their guiding lights everywhere. She rubbed her hand over her mouth, finding it wet from the bushes, the leafy scent left by her fingers sliding into her lungs. Her fingers shook. She ploughed on.
Waving her hand before her, she found that the protecting energy fence was down. Her boots hit the crunching gravel of the garden next to Paul’s house. “You own this too?”
