powder coating my skin.
“How’d you end up here?”
Dominique looked around the room, and when she spotted a broom, she sauntered over and grasped it with her bony fingers before beginning to clean.
“Cavil and Lackley have always had a sort of competitiveness about them. Or at least, that's what I’ve been told. They’re distant cousins, you know. Both killed their way into power. Both have twisted views on how the empire should work.”
Dominique’s dress shifted as she swept, everyone seemed on the edge of their seat, hanging onto her every word. “It’s always been the same. Each of them has always struggled for power. Ethros had the monopoly on weapons. Galla, on the vaccine. Cavil has spent a lifetime determining Lackley’s weaknesses,” she said. Dominique paused for a moment to search for the dustpan, and resumed when Kemper graciously handed it to her.
“If you’re looking for some secret information or insider tip that might give you an advantage, you’re looking in the wrong place. Maybe I’m a cynic, but men like Cavil and Lackley don’t have any depth to their motives. Sometimes, they’re just power hungry bastards that’ll crush whatever comes between them and what they want,” she said while dropping the broom. Its metal handle landed with a thud. “Cavil’s been biding his time for years, and interrogating someone he uses up like an expendable resource isn’t going to give you the advantage you need. You’ll need an army, the cure, and zero morals—not a group of incompetent leaders from a forgotten province,” she said forcefully while sweeping up the last of the dust. “You might have stumbled into some wealth with your mine in Dormas. But these men? They’ve been cultivating alliances and leverage for years.”
Maverick opened his mouth to speak but she turned to address me, cutting him off. “You want to know how I ended up here? Cavil thought I was pretty. He saw something inside me that he thought he could one day use against Lackley. That's it. I was a polished piece of property, given away to fuel the ego of a mad man. So while you selfishly bounce between your Holders, go ahead and pretend like you aren’t the same thing as me. You’re a Walker Companion who's convinced herself she’s free.”
Chapter Sixteen
"How is it that I spent years trapped in the Stonewell Manor but feel antsy after four days here?" I asked Cyler while plopping face-first onto the twin-sized bed in the upstairs loft of the lab. I missed Dormas. I missed the people and my mornings with Maverick. Days at the bakery. Nights at the Manor.
"I think we're all feeling a bit...antsy..." Cyler said with a cough before moving to the complete opposite side of the room. I turned my head to look at him, and smiled when I saw him run his hands through his dark hair.
"I guess sitting around and waiting does that to a person. I feel bad for pestering Kemper. I know he's trying, I just—"
"—want something to work in our favor," Cyler finished.
I rolled over so that I was on my back and stared up at the tiled ceiling. Normally being around the guys was comforting, but we were all on edge. Huxley seemed the most irritable. I was convinced that his eyes would get stuck in the back of his head from rolling so much. And even I found myself annoyed by Kemper’s constant talking to himself. He was working to make sense of the signal receptors for the fetter, but apparently it was too complex for his skill set and knowledge. Allaire and Maverick were too swamped with figuring out the last components of the cure mutation to help, but they provided insight when they could.
"How long do you think Cavil will be gone?" I asked for the third time. I knew the answer, but needed to talk about something. Cyler sighed and tapped his foot.
"You know I don't know the answer to that, Babe," he replied while leaning back in his chair and jetting his legs forward. The relaxed position made me swallow.
There was something I wanted to talk about. It had been on the tip of my tongue since Dominique left, but I hadn’t built up the courage to bring it up yet.
"Are you ever going to spit out what’s been on that pretty mind of yours?" Cyler asked and my eyes immediately zeroed in on his amused expression. I hated how well he could read me.
"I don't know. It’s about Dominique." I