of the castle that Gavin and his brothers called home, she would’ve been terrified.
She had been nearly hysterical when she was first brought here as a child.
But not anymore. She wasn’t a child now.
Besides, she had a job to do.
She needed to watch, and to use what she saw.
There was no room for fear.
With every step towards the doorway, she could feel Braydon gloating, a mantra of obsession circling in his mind.
He had her back where she belonged. It was a sign, confirmation of the righteousness of his work.
Nothing would get in his way.
He wouldn’t allow it.
Stumbling slightly in the brightness, Esme blinked, letting her eyes adjust, then looked around.
On the far wall, the same painting from her dream. Two triangles, a black circle between them.
“I’ll bring the new dawn to this cursed world, just wait,” Braydon sneered as she recoiled from the image.
Control. She could do this.
She kept observing, trying to take in everything as he pulled her towards a large metal chair halfway down the middle of the chamber.
Tables with slanted tops lined the room. On a few, colored lights flashed above thin pieces of metal, and small drawings of lines wiggled and moved as she watched.
But most of the table tops were dark, the knobs and protrusions a flat, dead gray. On the one closest to the door, two men in black uniforms hovered over the panel, and one crouched beneath, prying at something in the wall.
“Sir, we’ve lost another databank,” one of the standing men reported, voice laced with aggravation, and just a hint of nervousness.
That could be useful.
Quickly she scanned the rest of the men, straining at the effort to try to read so many people’s emotions at once.
Grudging admiration.
Wariness.
Envy.
Not the slightest bit of friendship or admiration.
A small smile lifted the corners of her lips, even as her stomach clenched, willing herself to stay the course.
To do something she’d always believed was wrong to attempt.
Had thought was impossible.
But Nettie was right.
Right and wrong, good and evil had been turned upside down here.
Whatever she did to survive, to help Layla and the children, Sasha, everyone who had been broken and tormented in this room…
It had to end.
“Can’t you idiots do anything right?” Braydon snapped.
And now it would.
Reaching into the heavy air around her, she took the ragged edges of temper and arrogance of men who thought they could reshape the world into their own liking, take what they hadn’t been given, and twisted it all.
Increased each dark thought, fanned the flames of their pride and anger.
Clouded the small traces of respect they’d ever had for each other.
Confirmed every suspicion, every slight, real or imagined.
And staggered back from the spray of blood as one of the technicians jammed a tool deep into another’s throat.
“What are you doing?” shrieked Braydon.
The two surviving assistants turned to face him, lips pulled back in a snarl.
“We’re not the idiots,” one snarled, lips pulled back. “You, with your constant promises, your demands and bullying.”
The other said nothing, just lunged forward, hands outstretched for Braydon’s throat.
Roughly Braydon threw Esme against one of the other tables, her head crashing onto the edge, stunning her for a moment.
A burst of sound echoed through the room and when she looked up again, both men were collapsed at Braydon’s feet.
He held a small metal device in his hand, and now waved it at her.
“If you don’t want to end up like those fools, you’ll stop your tricks and get into that chair.”
Some sort of weapon.
If only there’d been more of the men here!
Tentatively she reached again for Braydon’s mind.
Rage spilled from him. If she could just get a hold of it again, use it, twist it, maybe there was still hope.
But he only shoved her towards the chair, knocking her into it until she half-fell into the seat.
As he reached for the straps, another voice boomed from a black box set into the corner of the walls.
“Lord Braydon! We’re under attack! It’s--”
With an ear splitting squeal, the man’s voice fell silent.
Esme didn’t need to hear any more.
“He’s coming for me,” she smiled at Braydon.
“I think you’d better start running.”
29
“Full access to the complex has been restored,” Coracle’s voice came from Gavin’s cuff. “I am still unable to locate Esme, however. The security cameras have not been maintained in some years, and few still work.”
“Just get me to the nearest stairs,” Gavin replied. “She’s below us, almost straight down.”
A long pause.
“You know that’s not logical in the slightest, don’t you?” came the tinny response.
“Says the talking holographic cat,”