Chapter 24

Chapter 24

I've reviewed the schematics you sent. As designed, this biograft would remove a major neural safeguard when it comes to psychic overloads. It cannot ever be placed in a Psy brain—not without risking a psychic burn severe enough to cause brain damage.

—Message from Dr.Ilma Wang to Councilor Shoshanna Scott (1 January 2075)

AUDEN MADE IT through the next two days with gritted teeth—and little sleep. She was afraid if she closed her eyes, she wouldn't wake to herself again, her mind a total blank. She survived with catnaps that were never long or deep enough to put her brain into a state where things happened. Where she lost herself.

That kind of sleep wasn't enough for a woman in her eighth month of pregnancy.

"You're displaying signs of significant sleep deprivation," Dr.Verhoeven said at her next check-up. "We may need to bring in a sleep specialist empath."

That he was even considering bringing in an outsider indicated the depth of his worry.

Auden rubbed at her forehead, and suddenly, she was speaking without conscious premeditation. "I find it difficult to sleep in this house knowing how long my uncle and cousin had access to it. Uncle Hayward spoke a good game, but he'd become used to the taste of being so close to power—and he's not as meek and mild as everyone believes."

That much, at least, was true.

"You shouldn't worry," Dr.Verhoeven said. "Charisma has no doubt run a comprehensive security sweep."

"Yes, but my uncle is weak, not stupid," Auden said, the words coming faster than she could process them. "He could've thought to plant an object in the house that might send me into shock if I come into unexpected contact with it. It could be as simple as a pen purchased from the estate of a serial murderer. Do any of us ever really think about it before picking up a pen to make a quick note?"

Stunned by the idea that might be an actual credible threat she'd never before considered because she just didn't think in such a mercenary way , she leaned her head back on the examination chair. Her pulse felt erratic, but she didn't fight it—let Dr.Verhoeven note that down, add it to his list of problematic factors.

"All I need is a location neither he nor my cousin has ever accessed."

"Perhaps you should go to the cabin," the doctor mused. "It's secure, and the leopards are no threat now that you have a major deal with them—they might even provide protection as part of their attempt to build a relationship. The biomonitors let me keep an eye on you, and we have a teleporter on standby if I need to get to you."

Auden couldn't believe he'd given her the cabin on a silver platter, had to struggle not to jump on the offer with betraying eagerness. "I'm unable to fly, teleportation is out for me, and you know the problem with having a different individual in my chopper."

"Hmm, yes."

"Though…" She paused. "I accidentally touched a few surfaces the changeling alpha touched during our recent tour of their manufacturing facilities, and while I picked up multiple changeling echoes from those who work there, I had no negative reaction."

"Interesting." The doctor sounded like he meant that. "A result of their natural shields do you think?"

"Makes logical sense to me," Auden agreed. "Perhaps if I continue to have trouble sleeping, I'll hire a changeling pilot to get me to the cabin so I can rest without concern about what Uncle Hayward or my cousin may have left behind for me."

"I really do recommend a period of significant rest." The doctor made a few notes. "You know how important it is that you stay in top shape. There's no knowing how long this brain will function at the level you need it to function."

The hairs on Auden's nape quivered.

There was something extremely wrong with the way the doctor had phrased that—but she couldn't exactly question him without betraying herself. So she responded with a cool, "Exactly so." She got off the examination chair by swinging her legs to the side, then pushing up on the arm.

The M-Psy offered her a hand, such contact having been permitted even in Silence when another Psy was in a physical state that made movement difficult, but she shook her head—both to maintain her image of being in control and powerful, and because she didn't want that man touching her.

Auden was no touch telepath, as some of the Justice Psy were said to become after years of their grim work, but this man had talked about her brain as if it were an interchangeable tool. She did not want him near her, much less touching her.

"I'll see what I can organize in terms of acceptable transportation," she said, her hand lifting to her temple without conscious volition.

But it was the right move, because Dr.Verhoeven reiterated the need for her to take a break, adding the words, "The child is critical. Early signs are that its neural structure is developing as required."

Auden was going to throw up.

Swallowing back the bile with effort, she gave a curt nod, then made her way out of the infirmary suite. She wasn't surprised to find Charisma waiting for her in the reception area. And after the creepiness of Dr.Verhoeven's words, she'd had enough. She channeled Shoshanna. "Do you wish to be demoted?" Her voice was ice coated in frost. "Because I can make that happen today."

Clever, Auden , whispered an internal voice as cold as the one that had come out of her mouth. You didn't threaten to fire her. She knows you'd never do that, not with all the information she holds in her head. But a demotion? Yes, that she might believe. Especially as she has witnessed such "demotions" before, all of which involved the telepathic scraping of a mind.

The bile returned. Who was she that she could have such emotionless thoughts?

"I had no desire to overstep." Charisma bent her head. "I came to discuss a personal matter with Dr.Verhoeven."

Auden believed neither the sudden submissiveness, nor the excuse for her presence. "Then do go in, Ris." She waved a hand…and felt her lips curve into a smile that she'd seen on her mother's face as she grew from child to adult.

Charisma visibly drew back, sucking in a breath at the same time. "Sir." A shaky tone.

Auden left without waiting for anything further. She didn't know how she made it to her bedroom, or how she kept it together until she was behind the closed door of her bathroom suite. She had to believe this room wasn't monitored—and even if it was, all they'd hear was a pregnant woman throwing up.

After it was done, she cleaned up, brushed her teeth, and made herself think of the doctor's words. Why "this brain"? What had he meant by that? It wasn't as if a person could switch brains—not even Psy could do that.

Staring in the mirror, she reached up to her hairline, to that faint scar hidden beneath the fine hairs there. "What did you put in me?" she whispered so quietly it was inaudible to her own ears, her question directed at her dead parents.

She'd gone into surgery, for what her mother had told her was a corrective procedure to fix a blocked artery that could one day lead to a stroke, and come out fine. It had lasted one week. Then had come the burning storm in her brain that had altered the trajectory of her life.

Anything else she knew, she'd learned from Shoshanna. Her mother used to sit beside her bed and speak to her after she took over primary custody. Auden only remembered pieces of it.

"Unfortunate that the updated variant of the graft had the same flaw." Her mother rising from the seat. "Not much of a loss in the grand scheme of things. Despite Henry's delusions, a Ps was never going to run his family or mine."

A graft. A foreign part. Inside Auden's brain.

Whatever it was Shoshanna and Henry had been attempting to do, there was more wrong with Auden than she'd realized. She might be able to function again, but her thoughts weren't always her own…and neither were her actions.

Her stomach rumbled.

Heart gentling, she rubbed at her belly. I'll go get us food , she telepathed her baby. Sorry about the disruption to the peace just before.

The baby kicked, safe and content inside her womb where none of the horrors of the world could touch her. And where she couldn't understand the horrific implications of an M-Psy talking about her brain developing as "required."

Required for what?

For another experiment as had been done to Auden?

She squeezed the edge of the sink, rage filling her to the brim at the idea of them butchering her child like they'd butchered her. No one was getting their hands on her baby. No matter what she had to do…or whom she had to kill.

That last thought? It was hers. All hers.

That rage gave her the impetus to push away from the sink and stride down to the kitchen area, where the member of staff on duty was preparing a tray of high-nutrient food.

"Sir." The staff member bowed her head. "Dr.Verhoeven sent through an order to be delivered to you."

"Good. I'll take the drink now." She picked it up. "Please bring the rest to my office." Her politeness was natural, but it was also one of the rules of the Scott household. Shoshanna had been unfailingly polite to her staff.

"They are cogs in the machine," her mother had told Auden on one of the infrequent occasions when she'd had charge of her minor child. "Cogs function better with a little grease, and the grease here is the appearance that I care for their psychological well-being—and it's not a lie. If they are unwell, they can't perform their duties."

Shoshanna had never been a caricature of evil. That was what made her so dangerous. People respected her, trusted her, even believed she cared. The truth was that Shoshanna had cared only for herself.

Her staff and Auden had mattered to her in the same pragmatic way.

Cogs in the machine.

Once at her desk, she finished the drink before pulling up files on a number of business projects. Not simply as cover, but because information was power.

Both Henry and Shoshanna had drummed that into her.

When the staff member came in with the tray, Auden only acknowledged her with a nod. Another small act designed to make the entire household believe that she wasn't only back, but that she was back as her mother's daughter.

She completed the work she wanted to do in record time—even compared to her work before the brain damage. She seemed to know exactly where certain files were located, or how to retrieve documents she'd never before seen.

Including videos of her interacting with others in a way that should've been impossible with her brain injury. Complex, detailed interactions that couldn't be faked with a nod here and there while Charisma did the talking.

Auden was the one doing the talking.

Parched, she grabbed the glass of water that had come on the tray, emptied it. Her lips remained dry in the aftermath, her heart pumping. Because… she shouldn't be able to access this material. It was stored in a system that had been well above her security clearance when she'd been "normal"—she'd been too young then to have access to this depth of business information.

More than that…

Passwords.

A number of the documents she'd just pulled up had been password protected, and she'd breezed past the security as if it didn't exist, her fingers typing in the necessary codes without hesitation.

Not only that, but when she checked some of the more obscure financial records, she saw that the last access had been by Shoshanna. Which meant these were documents even Charisma couldn't access—she hadn't been given the override by her mother before Shoshanna's untimely death.

Her heart hitched.

There had to be an explanation. Perhaps she'd had other periods of lucidity while her mother was alive, and Shoshanna had decided to pass on the information. That must be it. Because what other possibility—

Chest tight, she touched the scar at her temple again.

What if her mother had done something else to her? She would've seen Auden as already damaged, so it would've been easy for her to justify. Whatever it was, Dr.Verhoeven had to know, as did Charisma.

That was when it hit her: the codes to the system, the thing that allowed Charisma to hold the reins.

Face hot, she pulled up the deceptively simple login page and stared.

Nothing. Her mind a blank.

She swiped out her arm, crashing her empty glass to the soft carpet. Her vision wavered, her brain hitching, a murmur inside her skull that rebuked her for the loss of control in a voice that wasn't her own .

···

AN impatient and quietly angry Remi turned into the road that led to the Scott compound after nightfall. The past three days, as he waited for the contract to be finalized, had ground his patience down to the bone. All he could think of was Auden, so fierce and protective, trapped in a house that wasn't a home while her brain misfired on her.

"You look like you want to murder someone," Mliss murmured from the passenger seat. "Rein it in, Remi, or you'll give away the game."

He'd picked his COO up from her apartment along the way because RainFire couldn't afford to sacrifice a vehicle, and there was no way he'd leave it in enemy territory for the duration.

"I have it," he muttered, clenching his teeth even as his leopard settled in a quiet that was deadly. "Now?"

"It'll do."

"Remi Denier," he told the guard on duty at the gate. "Here for Ms.Scott."

The man—who'd also accompanied Auden to the mech facility—said, "You're the only one cleared. I can call up about Ms.Phan."

Good man , Remi thought. He'd made note of Mliss's name and face despite having never interacted with her. "No, that's fine. Mliss's my ride." Getting out, he waited until she was in the driver's seat before he said, "Drive safe."

Mliss's gaze gleamed leopard gold at him. He could almost hear her voice in his head: I'm not the one walking through the gates of the Scott compound .

He waited until she'd turned the all-terrain vehicle around and was on her way before allowing the guard to lead him inside. The compound was spacious but not huge. One main dual-level building painted a crisp white with dark gray trim, multiple other single-level houses, all with decorative touches like scrollwork on the eaves that clearly came from another era; overall, it gave the impression of being a refined old estate.

Underneath that first impression, however, was intense modern security. The guards with their visible earpieces were just the start—and given that more subtle earpieces were standard for security work, these had been picked on purpose, to warn off anyone thinking to infiltrate the estate.

Then there were the wrought iron fences Remi had clocked were wired with motion sensors, the generator somewhere on the property that was a mild but distinctive hum to his acute hearing, the internal alarm systems he couldn't see but had no doubt existed, and external motion sensor lights designed to appear a natural part of the house.

Those lights weren't needed tonight as the pathway through the compound was well illuminated with tall standing lamps that matched the iron fences in their design. As he'd expected, he had no chance to look inside the house itself, because the guard took him around the building and to the very back—where Auden stood with Charisma beside a chopper on a launching pad.

Charisma Wai's face was stiff with disapproval, but she was polite enough to Remi. "Thank you for acceding to Auden's request. You have an unusual work and skill history for a changeling alpha."

No surprise that Wai had looked him up. "Misspent youth," he said casually, then turned to Auden. "Are you ready to go, Ms.Scott?"

"Yes." She got into the chopper's passenger seat with help from a step that had already been placed beside it. The seat, he saw when he went around, had been pushed all the way back.

It was still a tight fit for her belly.

Frowning, he took his own seat, wanting her out of this machine and more comfortable as fast as possible. Small as the chopper was, his shoulder brushed hers as he took the controls after putting on his headset.

A shiver from his passenger before she settled, and maybe it was his imagination, but it felt as if she was leaning into the contact rather than away from it.

Happy to have her in his care, he began takeoff procedures, and when the bird lifted, saw Charisma Wai staring after them with a grim look in her eye.