Chapter 23

Regaining Control

Marcus suppressed a frown. Rourke wouldn’t make faces, and he shouldn’t, either. “What do you want?”

The Tenebrarum woman’s pale eyes flashed. “I warned you not to lie to me, Marcus Streger.”

What? Marcus jumped. Recalling that he wore the face of Gunnar Rourke, the awe-inspiring Director of Sector 1708, he straightened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t take kindly to liars.” With her unnaturally white hair and sharp features, she looked more like a fiend than a woman. “You know who the Tenebrarum are. You know what we’re capable of. Lie again, and only God can save you.”

Fuck. She knows something. To the rest of the galaxy, there was no connection between Gunnar Rourke and Marcus Streger. How could she have found out?

The woman seemed to read the question in Marcus’s mind. “You want to know where you fucked up? I’ll trade information for information. I want to know who I’m dealing with, so we’ll meet on your ship. You want to know how I found you, and I’ll tell you once the deal’s complete. Understood?”

Who else knows about me? The only way to find out was to interrogate the woman. As a member of Tenebrarum, she wouldn’t break easily. He’d have to implant her, then command her to give up her secrets.

Marcus nodded. “Understood.”

The woman held up a slender knife and casually examined it. “If you deceive me, you won’t live to regret it.” She glanced up. “Oh, and one more thing. Devin Colt’s the sonuvabitch who got me involved in this… situation. Make sure he’s there when we meet. If the deal turns out to be unsatisfactory, he, too, must pay.”

“Of course.” Colt had been a troublemaker from the start. If the Tenebrarum woman wanted him, she could have him.

The woman pulled a stone out of a pouch on her belt and ran it across her blade. “You are very far away. I have wasted enough time because of you. I will send you a set of coordinates that represents a halfway point between where you are and where I am. Meet me there, in the Pride of the Creator, in precisely twenty-four hours, or be prepared to keep your eyes open for the rest of your miserable existence.” The woman held up her gleaming knife. “I am talking to you, Marcus Streger, not Gunnar Rourke. I have no need for puppets.”

Her arrogance ignited fresh frustration. Unless Marcus complied, he wouldn’t know how she’d found him or whom she’d told. His mouth twitched. “As you wish.”

“Very good.” The woman threw Marcus a mocking smirk and ended the transmission.

Marcus’s face burned. He calmed himself with the reminder that soon, she’d be an implanted drone, and he’d have an insider with Tenebrarum.

Having had enough of Gunnar Rourke, Marcus commanded the program to run on autopilot and closed the window. Rourke would behave routinely, keeping a low profile, until Marcus had further use for him. If an emergency arose, an alarm would alert Marcus, and he would deal with the situation.

He reclined in his chair. Six fucking hours of dealing with Sector 1708 shit, and he still hadn’t caught up. If only Candice were still around so he could brag to her. Did no one appreciate how difficult it was to be him? He had to not only satisfy Acuitas’ Corporate, but also run Sector 1708 for Rourke while working on his independent projects.

I’m never not working. And no one even appreciates it!

In the meanwhile, he had to repair the Pride’s systems before he met with the Tenebrarum woman. It wouldn’t do for her to enter a ship without basic door controls. At some point, he’d also have to figure out what to do with the escapees Adam had let loose, but they were low on his priority list. Attempting to recapture them would have been too risky, so Marcus’s present plan was to let them go. His implanted staff would act on autopilot, denying there was anything wrong with them. As for the girls he hadn’t implanted yet—none of them knew what was going on anyway.

Even if they do, people will think they’re crazy.

But in case someone did believe them, Marcus had to re-veil the Pride so no one could find him. With a grumble, he opened a program to examine the ship’s central computer. Getting access to the computer after the whole AI fiasco had been a real pain in the ass, and he hoped the rest would be easier to deal with. After an hour or so of mind-numbing donkeywork, he regained control of his security cams and internal defenses.

Weary, he opened the security program showing the views from the cams placed in the ship’s interior. He didn’t expect to find anything, but flipping through the feeds gave him an excuse not to deal with re-veiling the Pride for the time being.

An empty corridor. Another empty corridor. The lab holding the deactivated Adam Palmer. Yet another empty corridor—

A figure walked into view.

“Stop!” Marcus grabbed the edge of his desk and pulled himself forward. He widened his eyes in surprise, then, recognizing the girl with the gun, curled his lips with glee.

Jane Colt. So you came, after all. She must have docked while his security cams were still down, and he hadn’t looked outside yet. It didn’t matter. She was on board his ship, within his grasp. If she’s here, she must’ve tipped off her brother.

Marcus twisted his lip. Because of Adam, he’d lost control of the Pride, and as a result, hadn’t been able to monitor its security system. Never mind. I have her now. “Intruder in Corridor A-Twenty-Four. Set internal defenses on stun.”

The computer beeped, and the automated defenses aimed at Jane. Apparently having noticed their movement, she fired at the guns on the walls. A stun blast hit her back, and she fell to the ground.

You’re mine now. Marcus left his office and wound through the Pride’s corridors until he reached Corridor A-24. A security bot hovered over Jane’s unconscious form, the bot’s line of blue light blinking questioningly, as though asking, “What should I do with her?”

That’s a very good question. Marcus knelt down beside his newly captured prisoner. Jane’s blackish-brown locks covered her face. He brushed them aside, running his fingertips against her skin. He’d expected some kind of excitement from finally touching the object of his desires, but she suddenly seemed unremarkable. Just another pretty girl, no longer an infuriating siren.

Disappointed, Marcus stood. “Take her to Room A-Eighteen, and put her in cell two.”

The security bot acknowledged the order with a beep, then wrapped a pair of metal appendages around Jane’s limp body and lifted her off the ground. Marcus followed as the bot carried her into the nearby lab and placed her in the clear cell.

Why had she so entranced him from afar, only to appear so commonplace up close? Perhaps it was because she lay unconscious, virtually lifeless. In that state, she was no different from how his implanted girls had been: beautiful but empty. I have to wake her.

As soon as the door to her cell closed, Marcus commanded the bot to engage its alarms. He covered his ears to block out the bot’s high-pitched mechanical wails.

Jane blinked then cringed at the sound.

Marcus turned to the bot. “Stop alarms.”

The alarms went silent. Jane glanced around in bewilderment. Her gaze fell on Marcus, and her expression darkened. “Sonuvabitch!” She jumped up, locking her gaze onto his. Fierceness radiated from her dark eyes.

There she was again, the Jane who captivated him.

“You’re fun to watch.” Marcus examined her face, wondering if he could capture such energy in his future AI.

“Let me out!” Jane banged a fist against the wall between them. “What have you done with Adam?”

Marcus stared into those vicious eyes, unable to look away. He imagined them softening for him, turning into that loving gaze he’d watched her give to Adam Palmer.

Jane broke eye contact and recoiled. The disgust in her expression shot Marcus full of fury. He wasn’t some perv creeping on her in a bar. He was Marcus Streger, wealthy, intelligent, and more powerful than anyone realized. “Do you know who I am?”

Jane’s eyes smoldered with hatred. “Marcus Streger. I don’t care what you think you’re doing—you’re nothing but an evil bastard.”

Marcus’s anger faded. A hint of sorrow wound through his heart. She didn’t know anything about him; she judged him by the external factors that had affected her life. If he’d met her under different circumstances, she wouldn’t despise him so. I’ll make you understand.

He wondered what he could tell her. Each time he’d tried explaining himself in the past, his words had failed. A few spoken sentences couldn’t express the years of frustration and injustice he’d endured. “Life takes control from us at every turn.” He gazed at her contemplatively. “All we can do in response is take control of what we can.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Venom filled Jane’s voice.

Marcus sighed. He could tell her how taking over Sector 1708 and the minds of those who worked there had given him some much needed respite from the things he had no power over, but she wouldn’t listen. He was under no illusions that she’d comprehend the games he’d played with Heisman, with Colt, and most lately, with her. “I know you think I’m evil, Jane, but it’s not me who’s cruel. It’s the universe, and nothing I’ve done to you is any worse than what it does to the people living in it.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?” Her voice sharpened with scorn. “You’re a cliché.”

Her face was so close to Marcus’s, separated only by the thin transparent wall. If that wall were only gone, he could reach out and touch her, show her he was not a distant enemy, but a man with desires, with needs. Though he’d surrounded himself with people, he lived in total isolation, and he yearned for a human connection.

He extended his arm to press the controls by the cell’s door, his gaze never leaving Jane’s. The wall between them slid away, and he took a step toward her. “Jane…”

Jane’s gaze shifted, and she darted to the side, trying to get around him.

Marcus caught her by the shoulders and shoved her back against the cell’s back wall. Her furious breath warmed his face as she struggled to escape. “Calm down, Jane. Just listen to me.”

“Get off!” Jane twisted under his grasp.

Marcus pressed his forearm against her throat, hoping she’d yield. “You don’t know—”

Jane’s knee landed on his stomach, knocking the breath out of him. He doubled over and felt her slip from his grasp. She bolted toward the door.

He turned and clasped her around the middle, pressing her arms against her sides. “Jane, please—”

Marcus felt himself forced backward, and Jane rammed him against the wall. Startled by the blow, his grip slackened. Before Jane could escape, he grabbed her shoulders and spun her to face him. He regarded her flashing eyes and parted lips, pulling her close so she couldn’t knee him again.

Pain exploded in his face, and white stars filled the sudden blackness covering his vision. He barely had time to acknowledge Jane’s fist flying toward him before a second punch landed. Her kick impacted against his stomach, and he felt the breath forced from his body. He staggered backward and out the cell’s door.

Marcus glimpsed the door’s controls and hurriedly pressed them before Jane could escape. She slammed into the door.

“You coward!” she yelled. “Open this door and face me!”

Oh, you think you’re better than me? Frustration boiled in his veins. He could take what he wanted, but he could never make her give it willingly. Just like the implanted girls. Just like all the gold diggers, whores, and desperate broads he’d encountered in the past. On each, he’d pinned the hope that the returned affection would be real. And each had been tantalizingly close. Still, no matter how they pretended, he couldn’t make them love him.

Jane was more irrational than most. She’d fallen for an AI, and a boring one at that. Marcus wondered if he could make her stay with him by threatening her the way he’d threatened her brother. Over time, she might grow to appreciate him.

Then again, that was what he had thought in the past, with Candice and other beauties he’d brought onto the Pride. Though they’d played their parts well, Marcus had seen through each false declaration.

If he couldn’t make Jane listen, he could make her suffer. Her beloved robot was still in his hands, and her brother was headed his way. He could make her watch as he tore them apart and force her to beg for mercy.

He interrupted her sharp-tongued curses with an abrupt, “Shut the fuck up!” He pressed his forehead against the glass, wishing he could burn out her eyes with his glare. “You can’t escape me.”

To prove it, Marcus strode to a nearby touchscreen. Her Stargazer, which she’d probably hoped to run to, remained docked by the side of his Moray. What she didn’t know was that he’d fitted the Pride with weapons in case of trouble.

Trouble like you, Jane Colt. He swiped an icon to bring up the view outside the Pride, then flipped through the security cam feeds until he found her little ship. “Pride of the Creator, engage external defenses and destroy all foreign vessels.”

Jane gasped as the Stargazer on the screen exploded, ripped to shreds by the Pride’s cannons.

Marcus curled his lip into a sneer. “Well, Pony, looks like you’re here to stay.”