Page 91 of Pride
Something glowed down there. A small, thin light. A torch? A fallen lamp? A drowning firefly? Julius glanced at Van Jansen, who held some kind of electrical device beeping and whirring, collecting data. The scientist’s eyes were manic as he held the device toward the water, heedless of the replicates splashing him with sewage.
“The readings,” Van Jansen laughed. “Look at them. There is something there. They found it!”
“Found what?” Julius shouted.
Another crazed laugh from the scientist. The whites of eyes in the dim, dank space. “Who knows? Maybe Hell. Maybe Heaven. Maybe something else. All we know is there is much sin there, ja? Enough for the replicates to hunt and find.”
Julius held his breath and stared at the water, at that small glowing light. Like the miracle of a lost soul blinking in the darkness. The hair around his finger felt tight. Hot. The hair on his arms pricked up as though electricity surged in the air.
Heaven? Hell? Something else?
“Do you mean…” he said, throat dry, hardly able to contain the kernel of long denied hope growing in his heart. “Do you mean that my wife and daughter could be on the other side?”
Van Jansen shot him an incredulous look. A frown. “That might be a thin theory, but—”
“But it’s possible?”
“I suppose. Unlikely but, yes.”
A voice called from the distance, underwater. It called Julius’s name.
“Joseline?” he murmured. Had that been his wife?
“I’m sorry, what?” Van Jansen asked.
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
A presence prickled over Julius’s skin. He felt something. Maybe someone.
Julius… save me.
Joseline? His heart leaped into his throat. His wife was down there. His wife!
The scientist gave him an odd look. “I hear no one. Are you okay?”
Julius lifted his gun and shot Van Jansen right between the eyes. Triumphant purpose filled him anew.Hope. And no one, not even the scientist who discovered this, would get in the way. Julius tossed the gun and tapped his finger to his heart.
“Not long now, my loves.” He tapped again, and then shouted to the replicates, “Keep digging!”
Not long.
The replicates continued to dig, indifferent to the corpse bumping past them as it floated away.
33
The nightof the party came around too quickly. Parker spent the week putting his plan into place, including the part where he hosted the event at his own penthouse—in the building he’d previously been so strict about protecting. It would be unexpected. It would throw anyone doubting his intentions off the mark. The Syndicate leaders needed to think Parker and his family were clueless to their identity, after all, why would he knowingly invite the enemy into his abode? All these things worked perfectly in his favor.
During the past week, Parker’s beautiful Sinner spent the time working as his assistant, calling the catering company, hiring the quartet, alerting the media so he could retire in style across the social pages of the local paper in the morning. Nightingale Security would be there in an official capacity. Liza and Joe had invited some of their cop and FBI buddies. And the press was there. If the Syndicate tried to do anything untoward, they risked outing themselves on national television. It was a gamble Parker was willing to bet would pay off.
All his ducks were lined up. The enemy would come. His family would secure their biometrics, and the Syndicate would see him sign away his company. But most importantly, Julius would be intrigued enough that he’d accept Parker’s invitation. The Syndicate might be run by multiple people around the world, but it was Julius’s brainchild. It would be a blow to his pride that Parker had invited the rest of them and not him.
Julius hated the idea of being obsolete. Of being left alone. This notion bled into every action the man had ever taken, from the creation of the replicates to keeping his progeny close by as a pet. Julius needed to feel important. He wanted power.
And Parker was going to dangle it in front of him—Gloria Godiva’s original research. She was the lead geneticist who created the Seven. Julius had originally wanted to create replicates so he and his family could live again in a new utopia of his making. Daisy had stolen that dream from him, but Prudence said he’d been tapping into Daisy’s spinal fluid, probably to harvest stem cells. Parker’s bet was Julius still planned on bringing that family back somehow, and he would do anything to realize that dream.
Finding the Syndicate sites, yet not finding Daisy, had been a red flag. It was too convenient, as far as Parker was concerned. Julius prided himself on being one step ahead of the rest.
As Parker finished his tie before the bathroom mirror, he heard Alice in their closet. She sang her favorite song under her breath. But he also heard the distinct metallic sound of weapons moving. He’d told her not to wear any tonight, and the guests were arriving. Conversation filtered into the room from the terrace only a few feet away.
