Wings of the Walker - CoraLee June Page 0,173

to react, but I couldn't help it. My lip trembled, as one by one, their eyes connected with mine. Each flashing me a look of brief remorse before slipping into their mask of acceptance as the various Walker Companions tried to get their attention.

"Ah! The little Dormas Walker that's got everything in chaos finally decided to show up," Cavil slurred. I noticed dribbles of red wine on his white shirt, the spills diluting the crisp effect.

"Come in, come in, my dear. We have so much fun ahead of us," he cooed while setting down his glass and patting his knee.

I wanted to run and squirm and scream. I'd rather live a lifetime with Linda Stonewell critiquing my cleaning proficiencies than touch Cavil. Luckily, Dominique saved the day. She swiftly moved in front of me and gracefully settled on his lap with a fake smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes, plastered on her face.

"I figured your Masters could use a night of variety," Cavil said with a snort while bouncing his leg, forcing Dominique to crash into his chest. "I know Dormas is having a shortage of women, but one Walker Companion for six men? That's simply too much. It’s messing with their heads." Cavil slapped Dominique's knee, urging her to stand. She tumbled off of him as he rose from his white chair.

"I had some of the Walker women from our friendly neighborhood brothel stop by for a visit. I usually book them when we have dignitaries in town, so why not? I'm a hospitable host, you see." Cavil walked over to Huxley who was shrugging off a very persistent Walker Companion. She pouted in my direction as Cavil dove in for a harsh kiss, smearing her lipstick all over his face. He broke from her with a grin, and I gasped at the effect, the red paint covered his face like blood.

"Not to mention, I figured you might need a break. You know, since you had such an exciting night in the prisons."

I lifted my chin up and kept my expression blank all while trying to ignore the all-consuming pain that filled me.

Cavil pulled a long knife from the waistband of his pants and began spinning it lazily in his hand.

"Once Blan was out of the healing pod, and his bones had mended enough so he could tell me what happened, I knew what had to be done."

Huxley took a step closer to me, but he was still a good five feet away. I watched as his fists clenched, his jaw tensed with fury and worry.

"Normally,” Cavil drawled on, “I'd kill a man that defends a Walker before a soldier. But I don't think it's his fault. Variety is the spice of life, little Walker." He winked, throwing his hands out and spinning around the room. The other Walker women giggled, as if on cue. "They simply don't know any better. But you? You should know better—and I think it’s time you had a lesson in submission."

Huxley’s face went red with rage as he brushed off the attentive Walker woman clinging to his arm, but Cavil held his palm up.

"Tsk tsk, you should know better than to intervene."

Webb entered the room wearing a wide grin and carrying a tablet. As he walked by me, our shoulders touched and he lingered in the contact. "Told you I'd break you, Walker," he whispered menacingly before standing beside Cavil.

"Now,” Cavil spoke. “According to my research and development team, the human body can only handle seventeen consecutive shocks from a fetter. Anything more, and you start losing your mental capacities. Which in your case, might not be bad. But I'm not completely cruel, you see. So instead I'll do twelve sessions." Cavil waved an arm at Dominique before continuing. "Put a towel down, dear, the last one pissed all over the floor."

My eyes roamed the room as Dominique did what she was told. Cyler's chest heaved as he threw Cavil a murderous stare. Kemper stood and flexed as if preparing to attack. Jacob sat at a table by the door, but I noticed how his fingers twitched as a Walker woman tried to massage his shoulders. He politely removed her hand and kept his eyes firmly on me.

It was Patrick, however, whose expression scared me most. For a brief moment, I saw the boy from his story. We weren't in Cavil's ivory room. We were in Huxley’s and Patrick's childhood home. I saw the boy who had to watch his mother