Page 129 of The Arbiter
I lock the van doors and climb into the driver's seat. My heart is hammering, a mixture of adrenaline and a lingering, poisonous doubt. Madeline sounded too much like me. Too perfect.
I don't trust her. I can't trust her. Because if I do, and she is lying again, it won't just be Lucy who is liquidated.
It will be the only thing I have left that feels real.
CHAPTER 26 - Madeline
My hands are locked onto the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles look like bleached bone. Every second that passes, I think about Lucy and her voice.And then I hear my own voice.
She is a liability, Deimos.
I had to say it. I had to become the same monster to trick him. But the trick is already in motion, and it started hours ago, before I even reached his gates.
As soon as I left my apartment, after I thought about my next move, I made the call I swore I would never make. I called Detective Sterling.
"I know who he is," I told him, my voice shaking, but certain.
"The Arbiter. The ghost you’ve been chasing for years. I can give him to you, but you have to follow my lead."
I lied through my teeth. I didn't tell him about the nights with him. I didn't tell him about the DNA or the fact that I touched the killer and felt something other than horror. I played the part of the concerned doctor, a witness who stumbled upon a nightmare.
Sterling gave me the instructions. He coordinated a strike team. They will be in the morgue, hidden among the refrigerated units and the chemical vats. I am the bait. I am the lure meant to draw the predator into a cage of steel and law.
"What am I doing?"
I whisper, my breath fogging the windshield.
A wave of nausea hits me. I am betraying him all over again. The man who, in his own twisted, broken way, tried to show me his truth. I feel the ghost of his touch on my skin, and it sickens me that even now, with Lucy’s life hanging by a thread, I still feel that pull toward him.
But I had to choose. I chose the girl who I love over the man who wants to dismantle my future. I chose Lucy. Even if it means I have to lie to the only person who ever truly 'saw' me.
"He'll know," I mutter, panic rising in my throat.
"The moment he steps into the room, he'll see it in my eyes. He’ll see the lie."
Deimos doesn't just read people; he dissects them. If my heart rate is too high, if my pupils dilate when the police move, he will know. And if he knows, he won't just run. He will finish the 'masterpiece' by killing me, Lucy, and anyone else in that room.
I pull into the hospital parking lot, the morgue entrance looming like the mouth of a cave. My phone buzzes. A text from an unknown number. Sterling.
"Units in position. Lab B is a kill zone. Just get him to stand on the marked tiles. We'll take it from there."
I stare at the screen, my thumb hovering over the 'delete' button. I could warn him. I could send a single word to Deimos and we could disappear together. But then I remember his words and the fact that Lucy’s and even my life is hanging on by a threat.
I step out of the car, the cold night air biting at my face. Tonight, I am the woman who has to break a villain's heart to save a best friend’s life and my own sanity.
I walk through the long, echoing corridor of the morgue. Every step feels like a hammer blow to my own integrity. The sterile white light of the fluorescent lamps burns my eyes, and the smell of disinfectant irritates my throat.
I know they are there. Sterling and his men. They stay hidden. They are just waiting for the right moment for the trap to snap shut. For them, Deimos is not a human with a story; he is "The Arbiter", a trophy they want to collect.
I head straight into my office and sit behind my desk, the darkness in the room wraps around me like a cold blanket. My thoughts are shattering.
Images of Charles rise before my eyes, the man who created him. I imagine young Deimos, a boy who never knew an embrace, only the cold of the laboratory and the pain of his father's experiments.
A sharp, physical pity burns in my chest. I want to save him. I want to tell him that the world can be different, that he does not have to be the architect of destruction. I feel a bond with him that is stronger than fear. It is the worst form of betrayal, to fall for someone you are about to send to a cage.
"I'm sorry," I whisper into the void, while a tear rolls down my cheek.
"I am so sorry."
