Page 27 of Inside the Wicked

I take the offering, and there’s a lever on the side, which I pull down. It opens, and I pluck out a card.

“A.K.,” and below it, a six-digit number.

“It connects to the phone I gave you. Welcome to the Xoidship.”

I’m speechless. It’s a token of belonging that makes me feel so warm andpowerful.

“Thank you,” I say, but it doesn’t feel enough for how easily he’s accepted me.

Rix merely smiles, perching on the desk that is so neatly organized. Four black pencils sit in a formal line next to a straight notepad. A small black globe. A coaster with the Xoid logo. A wireless phone-charger pad. I figure this is Rix’s station, but I don’t expect the controlled tidiness that has me wondering if he’d combust if I shifted a pencil out of line. Definitely not an empty pizza box and soda can kinda guy.

“This is where I hack surveillance feeds, communications, and the like,” he explains about the half-dozen screens around him. Some are split, with many feeds on one, and I become overwhelmed with one glance at what they’re keeping track of daily.

Rhett is out there somewhere.

As the feeds occasionally change, I can’t help but think he could be in the vicinity of somewhere I’m looking directly at. He doesn’t know we’re looking for him. Perhaps he’s given up hope, believing we all think the car wreck killed him and no one is coming.

The thought leaves me hardly able to breathe, imagining his loneliness and neglect.

Then something sparks to my mind with a skip of my pulse. I ask, “Can you hack into a live performance feed?”

Rix slips a curious eye my way. “Very possible. Though I don’t think we’ve tried before.”

“What about something broadcast from the White House?”

“What are you thinking, Red?”

I bite my lip. My idea sounds highly risky, but it makes me giddy as hell. “I’m thinking it’s about time Rhett Kaiser knows Xoid is active, and that we’re coming forhimthis time.”

CHAPTER 10

Rhett

Irealize now why they tried to starve me. Sitting across from me at a long mahogany table is Alistair, dining pretentiously on his steak. I have the same meal in front of me, and though I want to fight taking anything from him, I have to remind myself it’s just sustenance and it can give me invaluable strength back.

So I eat with him.

Alistair’s mouth tugs a little as he chews, and I tighten my grip on the serrated steak knife against throwing it at him. I’m surprised he gave me one at all, but he knows me so well it’s getting under my skin. Two guys stand in such close proximity that I believe they’d stop me before the knife could effectively launch. I won’t risk inflicting the error on my little bird.

“Why are you doing this?” I grind out after too long in insufferable silence.

Alistair looks up, sets down his cutlery, and wipes his mouth before reaching for his wineglass. “We used to dine like this a lot. Don’t you remember, nephew?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“You can’t bleed out your heritage.”

I don’t deny that, but the way he uses the family term is like a brand. He owned me once, and now he’s caught me to reclaimme. I’ve been suffering in torment about it. How all this time I was a damned fool to think I could catchhim.

I’ve spent years reciting what I’d say to him. What I’d do. Now I have him right in front of me, I’m drawing blanks at his mercy, except for one thing.

“My parents died in a car accident,” I say.

Alistair leans back in his stupidly expensive chair. “That is the truth.”

My teeth grind because I don’t want to say it. I want him to fucking admit it.

“I’ve always thought it was coincidence. How you claim to know how perfect of a son I’d have been for you. Your twisted perception tried to make me believe my parents didn’t understand someone like me.”

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