Silk

by Pillow Michelle M.

  “I know,” Nikandros said. “I won’t let you down. Trust me.”

  “I do, old friend,” Korbin said. “Just don’t forget who you are ... what we are. We are the Protectors and we must do just that.”

  Nikandros nodded, switching off the phone. His eyes drifted down to the silk ball he had rolled in his hands. Slowly, he lifted his fingers and threw it at the trashcan. It was time to end this.

  Chapter Six

  It was a half an hour until midnight and Silk wasn’t sure what made her go to her father’s laboratory instead of straight to Pierson Park. The tight, familiar fit of her clothes was comforting to her skin as she walked silently through the secret passageways.

  Henry Thompson had sent a crew to pick up her father’s collection earlier in the day and she was a little sad to see the big portrait go. With it there, so big and commanding, she had felt like he was with her again, watching over her—even if at times it made her uncomfortable. Then Nikandros had come and she felt the loneliness leaving her for a sweet moment of ecstasy.

  It had been so hard the last ten years—alone and isolated from the world. No one had been there to help her understand her new powers. She couldn’t let anyone in, lest they discover her secret. She would not be exposed for a freak—prodded and tested and torn apart until there was nothing left. And, most importantly, she would not see anyone else burdened with her curse.

  Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the secret door to the laboratory. For a moment, she let herself remember what it was like to be a young girl, sneaking away from her nanny to go to her father’s lab. He’d always scold her, but never once did he send her away.

  Clutching her teddy bear, she’d watch him look into his microscope. He always took the time to show her what he worked on, doing his best to explain complex concepts to a young daughter who didn’t understand them. All Quinlan had known at the time was that her father was a good man and he was trying to save and improve lives. Dr. William St. James had done just that time and time again. But the two lives he couldn’t save, were his own and his daughter’s.

  “I’m sorry, Dad,” she whispered, feeling like a failure. All she ever wanted was to avenge him and put an end to the reality of his formula.

  Suddenly, two strong arms clamped around her from behind. Silk had been so lost in thought, that she didn’t hear anyone else in the room. Glancing down through the red fog of the security lights, she saw two very strong, pale masculine hands on her arms.

  Silk didn’t scream, biding her time.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy,” came a mocking feminine whine.

  Silk blinked, narrowing her eyes through the mask as she peered out into the darkness. To her amazement, Mrs. Nathaniel walked out from behind her father’s antique filing cabinet.

  “Ah, great,” Silk said, giving a heavy sigh of frustration. “You’re not trying to seduce the robotic help again are you?”

  Mrs. Nathaniel grimaced, storming forward to slap Silk across the face with the flat of her palm. “Shut up! I was rewiring to listen to your messages.”

  Silk just laughed. It occurred to her that the hands on her arms more than likely belonged to the Adonis model pleasure droid.

  “Uh-huh,” chuckled Silk, mocking. “The last time I checked, robotic droids didn’t store their message files in their erections.”

  “Hurt her, Adonis,” cried Mrs. Nathaniel, pulling at her blonde hair.

  The pleasure droid squeezed ever so slightly, but didn’t really do her skin any harm. Pleasure droids were not programmed for pain. They were like any other droid. If they tried to really hurt a human, they would self-destruct instantly. Silk, an idea forming in her head, gritted her teeth as if she were in pain.

  “That’s better,” said Mrs. Nathaniel. “Now, tell me where you’ve hidden your father’s formula.”

  “Formula?” spat Silk, giving a pretend jerk in the android’s arms. “What formula?”

  “Argh!” the woman screeched, slapping Silk again.

  Silk frowned. This was quickly getting old.

  “Did your husband send you here?” Silk asked.

  “My husband?” The woman laughed.

  Silk held perfectly still, watching Mrs. Nathaniel’s wild eyes roll in her head.

  “My husband,” Mrs. Nathaniel spat with venom, “is too busy with his lecture tours and publicity trips to even dream of such a thing.”

  “Oh, so you’re just a poor little victim?” mocked Silk.

  “Where is the formula?!” the woman demanded.

  “There is no formula. It doesn’t work,” Silk said.

  “Then why are you all dressed up in your Halloween costume?” the woman challenged.

  “I’m rich,” Silk said, “and eccentric. Don’t you read the papers?”

  “I know the formula exists! I’ve seen it,” screamed Mrs. Nathaniel. She began to run her hands into her hair, pulling at the tender strands. Her lips curled in anger as she huffed, “I’ve felt the power of it inside me. I’ve got to have it again.”

  “You lie,” Silk said. “If you’d of felt it, you’d still have it and wouldn’t need the formula.”

  “You know it doesn’t last!” the woman cried. “Now tell me where it is.”

  Silk knew that the woman was insane. Her wild eyes rolled back in her blonde head.

  “Prove it,” Silk said. “Tell me how.”

  “I’ve felt it,” said the woman. Greed lit in her gaze. “I came to visit your father to have him build me a biomechanical droid—you know something that feels more real. That was before I developed a taste for synthetic. Anyway, your father wouldn’t help me and in my anger I cut my finger on a piece of glass. His formula spilled on me. And I know he gave it to you. I’ve seen you. I saw how you leapt over my fence the night you broke into my house. Now, tell me where it is!”

  Silk’s lips tightened, letting the woman hang herself with her own words. Adonis’ hands stayed strong, binding her. She was too angry to move. If this woman saw her, than she saw Nikandros too. It all started to make sense. This woman knew Nikandros was in her lab. Maybe the woman paid him to duplicate her father’s work. It would explain how he knew her document was a fake.

  “Come on,” Mrs. Nathaniel begged. “Please. I have to have it. I have to feel the power of it again. You’re father wouldn’t give it to me and I showed him. But, you’ll give it to me. If you don’t, I’ll kill you too. You’re not going to stop—”

  “You killed my father,” Silk said, her tone low. She never would have suspected this woman.

  “What of it?” she growled. “Now you’re going to join him if you don’t give me what I want!”

  “Adonis,” Silk said unexpectedly. “Pleasure your mistress.”

  Instantly Adonis’ hands let her go and he began to move around to grab his owner. Mrs. Nathaniel’s lips puckered in surprise before she began screeching in protest. Silk grabbed Adonis’ head and twisted it to the side, shutting him off. The droid froze in mid-stride like a statue.

  Mrs. Nathaniel screamed in protest as Silk came after her. She tried to run, but Silk caught the back of her hair. She wanted to kill her, wanted to maim her for what she had taken away from her. But Silk was above this woman. Justice would prevail.

  With a call to her security, Silk dragged the woman from the laboratory kicking and screaming behind her.

  “Take her prisoner,” Silk said to the guard. “Call the police. And get her damned pleasure droid out of my house!”

  * * * *

  The police came and arrested Mrs. Nathaniel, taking the security tapes from the laboratory as evidence against her. They never once spoke directly to the mistress of the estate, only stopped at the gate where the robotic guard had Mrs. Nathaniel and her pleasure droid detained. The guard handed them the tape and sent them on their way.

  With the newer, faster judicial system in place, she was convicted of the murder by her own confession and sentenced to life imprisonment in a maximum-security complex. Adonis was
n’t allowed to go with her.

  * * * *

  Nikandros frowned, looking down at his digital watch. Quinlan was late—very late. He began to pace, looking over at the bench where he’d first saw her. His body ached to hold her again, just as his soul ached to clear her of any suspicion.

  He didn’t know why he continued to wait for her as the clock neared half past twelve. He only hoped that she’d come to her senses and show. Leaning against the thick trunk of a tree, he sighed. All of a sudden, his video phone beeped. Slowly, he drew it out of his pocket. It was time to go. He could wait no longer.

  * * * *

  Silk frowned as she wrapped her cape around her body. Pierson Park was quiet this time of night. The vendors were all locked up. The expansive lawn was empty. She was late for her meeting with Nikandros. Closing her eyes, she listened. She couldn’t hear him.

  Her legs sprang forward as she jumped off her post into the night. Walking, she strode over the darkened grass, her senses peeked. For all she knew it could be a trap.

  Then, she heard a soft beep. Silk froze. Her head twitched to the side. Her purple gaze narrowed as she focused on the sound. There, behind a tree.

  Darting forward, she kicked out legs first. Her fingers found the rough bark. Her spinnerets automatically attached themselves to the trunk as she flew around the side. She trapped Nikandros to the tree’s base, as she wound her silk around him like rope.

  “Silk,” he whispered in surprise to see her. His phone dropped to the ground before he could answer it.

  Silk flew full circle around the tree before landing in front of him. Nikandros took in her mask, able to recognize her alluring body easily.

  “You came,” he began. Relief overwhelmed him until he realized she had trapped him.

  “Of course I came,” she said under her breath. “What do you want?”

  “I need to speak to you about the Bombyx project your father was working on,” he said. “I need you to give me the formula.”

  “Why should I give it to you?” she snarled. “I’ve been offered a lot of money for it. Do you think you can offer me something better?”

  “Quinlan, please.” His eyes dipped over her face and body, taking her in. She could feel the hidden plea coming from his dark eyes. His look stung and she snarled.

  Bitterly, she lied, “Sorry, lover boy. I’ve had that already and don’t have any desire to taste it again. You’ll have to come up with a better offer.”

  “You want money?” he asked, dejected by her heated words and the hard glint to her eyes.

  “I have money—more than I will ever spend,” she returned. “What else you got?”

  “What about doing what is right?” he inquired.

  “And you’re what’s right?” she asked, laughing callously.

  “Quinl—,” he began, her unsympathetic words hitting him like a brick.

  Silk took her fingers and ran them over his mouth, trapping his lips shut beneath a veil of silken threads. His words were muffled as he tried to speak.

  “Quiet,” she commanded. Her purple gaze deepened in her anger. She felt betrayed by him. She knew she shouldn’t. He had warned her not to trust him, but like a fool she had. “I know who you are. I know what you’re up to.”

  Again he mumbled.

  “Listen to me very carefully. The formula is gone.” She spoke slowly, so there could be no misunderstanding her words. “I am all that is left of the Bombyx project and I will kill myself before I let you, or anyone else, have the formula. All my father’s notes are destroyed—all of them. I will not let another be turned like me.”

  Nikandros’ jaw broke free of her gag. His eyes lit with fire at her admission. He had been right. She was innocent. “Quinlan, listen to me ... mmupf.”

  Silk swiped both her hands over his mouth this time, making the gag thicker as she pulled her fingers back to the tree trunk to secure his head into place. Slowly, she crossed her hands over his chest to make her trap stronger--just in case.

  “Haven’t you been paying attention?” she hissed into his face.

  Nikandros searched her eyes for a sign of affection and found nothing. Oh, how he wished she’d take off her mask and let him kiss her.

  “Quinlan St. James is dead. Her father killed her. He injected her ... me with the serum to keep it away from men like you. I became a human silkworm.”

  He groaned a word that sounded suspiciously like, no.

  “I will only tell you this one more time. The serum is gone. The formula for it is destroyed,” she said. His eyes brightened and she thought he was thinking about Mrs. Nathaniel. “Sorry, lover. Your cohort has failed. Mrs. Nathaniel is being transported to maximum security for the murder of my father. It’s over. Do you understand me? It ... is ... over. If you ever come around me again, I will kill you.”

  Before he knew what was happening, Silk took off running. Nikandros’ eyes flickered red as his body dissolved into a soft mist. He came out of her silken ropes, turning to give chase. But, as he came around the tree, she was gone.

  “Nick!” yelled Korbin.

  Nikandros blinked, looking around.

  “Nick! Where are you?”

  Nikandros looked at his feet. His video phone had fallen open and a miniature display of Korbin’s face stared at him. Picking up the phone, he carried it as he walked, searching the distance for Quinlan.

  “Nick?” Korbin insisted.

  “She’s innocent,” he said, his heart feeling like it was ripped out of his chest.

  “I know. I heard everything,” Korbin admitted. “You were right.”

  “What do we do now?”

  “I need you to come back here,” Korbin said. “We’ve got to tell the other Protectors what we know.”

  Nikandros nodded. Quinlan was gone. His voice hoarse, he asked, “What about Quinlan? What will happen to her?”

  “It is not for us to decide,” Korbin said sadly. “She’s no longer human.”

  * * * *

  Quinlan didn’t care if she never left her room again. It had been weeks since she last saw Nikandros in the park. Her heart still ached as if it was yesterday. She knew he had used her and betrayed her, but try telling that to an organ that only beat for the memory of his name.

  She knew Nikandros was in on the plot to steal her father’s formula. It all fell together perfectly. Mrs. Nathaniel let him use her husband’s lab while her husband was gone on various business trips—even going so far as to cover it up when attention was drawn to his presence.

  Then, Nikandros had been sent to seduce the reclusive billionaire, gaining her trust. After that, he was to have lured her away to the park while Mrs. Nathaniel had free reign of her father’s laboratory to look for the notes. Oh, it had been a good plan too—so simple. And she had fallen for it. If not for her sudden wave of longing for the council of her father, she’d never have suspected his connection to the woman.

  She knew the facts, fitted them together so nicely. But then, why did her heart continue to scream at her like she was the one guilty of betrayal? Why did her body ache and sweat until she could hardly move? Why did her eyes leak damnable tears until she couldn’t see for the redness of them? The loneliness was worse than before.

  Burying her head in her pillow, she screamed her frustration at the world. She couldn’t even throw herself into crime fighting like before. Helping the world held no appeal for her. She wasn’t much sure she liked the world right now.

  “Let them fend for themselves,” she muttered in despondency.

  Suddenly, her maid unit switched on and walked over to the bed. Her eyes staring straight, she said, “Pardon me, Miss. You have a call.”

  “Who?” Quinlan sniffed. For a moment, she wished it were Nikandros. Her heart sped ever so slightly at the faint hope. Oh, what she would give to just hear his soothing voice!

  “Henry Thompson,” said the maid. “Shall I answer?”

  Quinlan frowned. Henry had been calling almost every day for the las
t three weeks, ever since news of Dr. Nathaniel’s wife surfaced in the papers. Dr. Nathaniel, out of embarrassment, severed all ties with the woman and had moved out of the district. Rumor had it that he was courting a new piece of eye-candy.

  “Yes,” Quinlan said. “But, no video feed.”

  “Quinlan?” came Henry’s voice. He sounded relieved. “What’s happening? I can’t see you.”

  “I’m not decent,” she lied. “I just got out of the shower.”

  “Oh,” he said, sounding mildly interested, before clearing his throat with a lower sounding, “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb you.”

  Quinlan gave a small laugh at that.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for days.”

  “I know, sorry,” Quinlan answered. “I’ve been preoccupied. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone and the reporters have been calling my house like mad.”

  “I can well imagine,” said Henry.

  Quinlan just bet he could. She’d seen personal quotes from him in almost all the papers.

  “I wanted to let you know that your father’s collection is a huge success,” said Henry. “It is our most popular display to date.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Quinlan said. Her father would have liked that.

  “Now, about this formula business,” said Henry. “Is it true?”

  “No,” answered Quinlan without hesitation. “My father was working on it when he died. He said the properties were too unstable. The DNA mutations it caused would liquefy anyone who tried to use it. The whole project was a failure. It was my father’s only failure as a scientist. That is why I don’t want the record of it released.”

  “I understand,” said Henry. He took her at her word. “As a leader in the scientific community, I will tell everyone that his work wasn’t even started into the field. Your father’s secret is safe with me.”

  “I know, Henry,” Quinlan said. “You’re a good friend.”

  “I was hoping to be more,” said Henry. There was an optimism to his tone that she couldn’t ignore.