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McBrid had just started modifying the files on the Aranea project when the knock came. Fersia dropped from the ceiling and hurried to the front of her cage. He’d filled her in on what might be happening.
She tapped the lock with her sharp claw.
He shook his head and whispered, “We’d never make it out of here with Charlie and Louis.” He’d like to change more files, but the time had come.
“Sir, open the door, please.” The Guard, who sounded like Laddie, knocked on the door again.
“Coming.” He moved to the cage. “Help Charlie and Louis if you can.”
Fersia reached out and touched his face. Her claw cool and her bristles soft.
“I’m sorry...about everything.” He glanced at the young male Servant who was almost done with his metamorphosis. “I think you’ll like him.”
Fersia caressed his cheek before moving her leg to her fang and catching a small drop of poison. She held it out to him.
“That’s an excellent idea.” He hurried to the counter and slipped on a clear glove. By studying the venom he’d captured from the previous Aranea he’d discovered that even a small amount could be harmful, deadly if ingested.
“Sir, please,” said Laddie.
“Give me one more minute.” He walked to the cage and held his gloved hand under her fang, letting the venom drip onto it. He clenched his fist, smearing the toxin all over his palm. “Thank you. If nothing else, maybe, I can take Conguise with me.”
He turned and left, keeping his gloved hand close to his leg as he opened the door.
“Sir.” Laddie looked nervous. “Professor Conguise sent me to get you.”
“Why?” He’d play dumb. They all knew that when the professor sent Guards to retrieve someone, it wasn’t good. He glanced down the hallway. Laddie was the only one here. Not that the Guard wasn’t formidable, but usually the professor sent a team.
“I-I don’t know, sir.” Laddie wouldn’t look at him. “I’m sorry, sir. You’re one of the good ones.”
“It’s okay, Laddie.” He patted the Guard’s shoulder with his non-toxic hand. “We all must answer for our actions. Looks like today is my turn.” He turned, sending one last look at Fersia—one of the many lives he’d ruined—before closing and locking the door.
He followed Laddie down the hall. In a lot of ways, he deserved this. It was the fate he’d dealt to many Servants and Guards. He wasn’t ready to die, but if he could take Conguise with him, his death would mean something. He might even save some of the poison for himself. It’d be better than being torn apart by Cold Creepers or one of the other monsters—no, not monsters, innocents they’d mutated.
Laddie stopped at the door to Professor Conguise’s office. “Sorry again, sir.”
McBrid nodded and knocked.
“Come in,” said Conguise.
He stepped inside, sorry that the professor’s cold stilted tones would be the last thing he’d hear. Who was he kidding? The last thing he’d hear was either his own screams or the sound of beasts feeding on him.
“Close the door and have a seat.” Conguise was sitting behind his desk.
He did as commanded, very aware of the hand at his side, his only weapon. This was almost like his weekly meetings—same office, same players in the same positions—but they both knew this was different.
“Scottsmoor came to see me,” said Conguise.
“Did he?” The real question was what did the other scientist say.
“Yes.” Conguise’s hard blue eyes studied him, but McBrid showed no emotion.
He may still get out of this alive.
“You don’t seem surprised.”
“I’m cautious.” That was the truth.
“Wise.” The corner of Conguise’s lips turned up in a slight grin.
“I believe so.”
The professor’s slight smile disappeared. McBrid rubbed his gloved fingers across his palm. The man thought he was the only smart one. The professor would be surprised.
“Scottsmoor admitted that he withheld pertinent information regarding the Phasmatodeas.” Conguise slid files across the table. “Everything he left out is in here.”
McBrid picked it up. “Thank you.” He waited a moment. When the professor remained silent, he stood.
“We’re not finished.” The professor’s tone was cold and clipped.
He sat back down. “Sorry.” But the professor might be sorrier. All he had to do was touch the man. At the least, Conguise would be violently ill and at the best, dead.
“Scottsmoor also said that he may have misled you about not live feeding.”
“Perhaps, but it was still my decision. I’m not Scottsmoor’s lackey.” Being perceived as too stupid to make his own decisions was as deadly as feeding the specimens meat.
Conguise’s eyes widened a fraction in surprise. The professor’s arrogance always made him misjudge his opponent’s abilities. He’d never labeled it before, but opponents were exactly what they’d become.
“You’re aware that I’m against anything but live feeding.”
“I am.” There was no reason to lie. Everyone knew this.
“Then, why did you follow Scottsmoor’s suggestion?”
“Efficiency.” He paused, letting his mind work through his lie. “It was faster to give the Phasmatodeas little hunks of meat than an entire Servant.”
“They tear through a Servant in no time.”
“Not the smaller ones. I had them separated, remember?” He shouldn’t have said that part. This was not the time to question Conguise.
“Of course, I remember. I remember everything.”
If that didn’t scream, warning, warning, nothing did.
“Now that the Phasmatodeas are together again, I’ll resume the live feedings.” For as long as he had to. He had no doubt that Conguise would be watching him closely.
“Have you been feeding meat to any of your other projects?”
Here was the trap. He had no idea how much the professor knew. “I have.” Best to lie a little to create confusion, than to lie a lot and get caught.
“Is there a valid reason?”
“Aranea19 would not eat. I tried everything else. Giving her meat was the last resort.”
“Hmm. I wasn’t aware that you were feeding her that way too.” The professor’s long fingers tapped on the desk. “Have you tried giving her Servants or Guards lately?”
“Yes.” He lied. “The only live food she’ll take are the male Araneas.”
“After she mates, correct?”
“Yes. She always mates first.” He lied again.
Fersia didn’t allow them near her. Every time he opened the glass, she attacked and killed the male. He truly hoped, for both her and Cal, that she’d let him live. The kid had been dealt a bad hand in life. This was the only chance at health and happiness Cal would ever have.
“Hmm. Continue trying.” Conguise’s fingers stilled on the desk.
“And continue feeding her the meat, correct?” He would anyway.
“Of course. Although there’s nothing wrong with letting her get hungry, don’t starve her.”
He tipped his head. He’d never do that.
He waited and the professor studied him for a long moment.
“I’d like you to take over the training of Gruder.”
“Me?” That was going to be a problem, a huge problem.
“Yes. Scottsmoor has made some mistakes lately. Mistakes I don’t want the new scientist duplicating.”
“Of course.” Looked like Scottsmoor was in trouble now, not him.
“Come by my office at four this afternoon and I’ll introduce the two of you.”
“We’ve already met.” It slipped out.
“You have?”
“Yes, I was looking for Scottsmoor to ask him about his notes.” No reason to lie about that.
“Good. Then no need for the introduction.”
“As you wish.” He didn’t want to be anywhere near the professor. Every meeting was a dangerous dance of truth and deceit.
“I’ll see you next week for our regular meeting.” Conguise turned to his computer.
“Of course.” He stood, squeezing his gloved hand into a fist. He still wanted to smear it across Conguise’s face. He would if he knew for sure it’d kill the other Almighty, but since that wasn’t a guarantee, he headed to the door instead.
As soon as he was in the hallway, he pulled off the glove, turning it inside out and stuffing it into his pocket as he hurried to give Louis and Charlie the good news.