Joan Undone

Chapter 23

A sleek black car idles outside my dorm the next morning. Everyone who passes by does a double-take, because there's a driver sitting in the front seat. Only the super-rich bother to hire drivers when autonomous cars are cheaper and safer.

A beefy Dean clone type steps out of the car and looms over me. "Get in."

"Strand doesn't give me orders."

The Dean grabs my wrist, opens the door to the back seat, and hauls me in like a rag doll. When the door slams shut behind me, it locks. I bang on the windows, but they're tinted so dark that it's unlikely anyone notices me.

The Dean gets in the driver's seat, and a window separates the front of the car from the back. No questions allowed. My cell phone has no service, either. The driver eyes me through the rearview mirror, and I bare my teeth. This car likely comes equipped with cameras to monitor my reactions, and Lexi won't get the satisfaction of seeing me afraid.

As if in response to my defiance, a headache slams into my skull with the force of a baseball bat. I take satisfaction in puking all over the leather seats.

The Dean drives like we're in a video game instead of Seattle's busy morning traffic, and I slam against one side of the car, and then the other.

When we reach Strand's headquarters, we don't go in the usual entrance to the studio. Instead, the car pulls into an underground garage and parks in a spot reserved for Lexi White.

My door opens, and the Dean moves to grab me again.

Summoning a wry smile takes effort as I try to compartmentalize the aftershocks of the headache. "I'll go peacefully, soldier."

The Dean nods and leads me to an elevator. As soon as we step inside, it shoots skyward, straight to the top of Strand's signature skyscraper. The doors open to an office that takes up the entire floor.

"These are the Darwin's quarters," the Dean says. "Wait here."

The space is decorated with lush carpet, expensive paintings, and gold accents. The colors are rich and warm, the opposite of Lexi's arctic personality. Behind her desk is a wall of monitors displaying images from around Strand's campus. No surprise that she watches over her minions like she's God. I shake my head at how foolish I was, thinking that Nic and I could sneak around on Strand's studio lots during the taping of Blake's promotional video without her seeing everything that we were doing.

My head throbs in pace with my heartbeat, blurring my vision. The Dean's hand is firm, but not rough, as he pushes me onto a red settee and retreats to stand by the elevator.

Lexi's chilly voice makes me sit up straighter. "We found the program your team used to steal information from Strand. We know the spider is yours, and that you copied files."

She sits beside me, too close, and I resist the urge to put distance between myself and this murderer. How many thousands of Throwbacks has she been retiring while supposedly working on taking down Crew? How many babies died under Dr. Rodriguez's care, at her direction?

"Relax. The data is encrypted, so your secrets are safe," I argue, but my mind is working at half-speed, the most irritating side-effect of the headache.

"You violated the terms and spirit of our partnership. Strand policy dictates that when a Throwback breaks our trust, we break that Throwback."

"Cut the shit. We've helped you more than you've helped us. You trick us every chance you get, and you hide critical information we need to stop Crew. For that matter, you won't even agree to attack the Chrysalis and end Crew's violence quickly. You're in no position to make threats."