Page 67 of Requiem
Adela nods slowly. “Precisely where. And he’s watching us. But for now, our physical location is still protected. But if I fuck around too much in his system, that could change.”
I drag a hand through my hair. “So what, we just sit here and do nothing now? Has he beaten us?”
Adela finally looks up. “No,” she says. “We isolate the trap. Then we gut the system piece by piece without setting it off.”
God, I have a headache just listening to this shit.
Rafe watches her for a long second, then nods once. “Carefully. Nico, your experience with Alex Brettiv’s system a couple years ago will come in handy. Help her.”
He nods. “Yes, boss.”
“Who’s that?” Heather asks, finally speaking up.
“Dead,” Adela says flatly, focusing on the screen.
“Oh.”
Emma exhales quietly beside me.
I glance at her, and she’s already looking at me.
“I’m sure we’re all in agreement,” she says, “that if anyone tries to hurt Jude again…”
My eyes narrow, witnessing the coldness creeping into her expression.
“We’ll fucking kill them.”
I nod. “You’re damn fucking right, Em.”
Adela lets out a quiet breath, rolling her shoulders as her fingers return to the keyboard. “Alright,” she mutters. “We’re going to need some time. But let’s get to work, gentlemen.” She glances at Kieran, Nico, and Rafe. “I’m going to crack this shit, one way or another.”
This is a war zone now. And whatever we do next…
We’re being watched.
Chapter eighteen
EMMA EASTON
The house has a rhythm now, even if it’s built on tension and exhaustion and a million cups of coffee. I swear, Rafe, Nico, or Kieran have gone to the grocery store only because we ran out. We're all moving with purpose instead of panic, even if Alexei keeps harassing us. Adela and Nico barely leave their screens. Rafe rotates between the monitors and his phone, tracking movement we can’t see. On top of that, he assists Micah, Heather, and me with Jude. Micah sleeps when he can, watches Jude when he can’t. Adriana drifts between rooms, offering little input here and there. Even visiting Jude a couple of times. He seems familiar with her in a way that hurts. But I understand. He doesn't love her.
And what do I do?
I go to him.Over and over again.
***
When I walk into Jude’s room, I see that he’s not chained to the bed anymore, not fully. The restraints are still close by, but Micah made the call to give him controlled movement during the day. It’s both a test and a risk, considering he will still occasionally snap back into conditioning. That’s always hard to watch.
He doesn’t look at me right away when I step inside, but he doesn’t flinch either.
That’s new.
I gently close the door behind me, keeping my movements slow and predictable for him. “Hey.”
“Hey.” It’s quiet, but I take that and sit down in the wooden chair across from him instead of on the bed this time. I want to give him some space.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
