Dominus

by Terina Adams

  “Want…owes. Tsk, tsk. No wonder he ran away. You’re full of demands and he hasn’t even kissed you.”

  Thank god. Had they discussed me?

  “You’re not his type, sugar.” She looked me up and down. “All uptight and prissy. Daddy’s little girl. You wouldn’t know what to do with a man like him.”

  “I’m here for answers, that’s all. I don’t care about anything else. I don’t understand any of this.”

  She snorted a hard laugh, strode past me to a chair, and sat with the grace of a feline about to stretch out in the sun. She eyed me from head to foot and pulled a face, showing me she found fault with every part of me along the way.

  Her judgmental eyes took the words from my mouth. I felt two feet tall under her withering gaze.

  “Trust me when I say don’t ask questions, because the answers aren’t anything you want to hear. Not someone as precious and cloistered as you.” She settled back farther into her comfortable seat. “Life’s been one smooth ride for you, hasn’t it? Rich daddy, adoring mother, private school, best of everything. And then, oh, dear, life hits the skids and things aren’t looking so pretty. A shabby rental, the worst school in the city, and your mum running into the arms of someone else.”

  “That’s not how it is. You know nothing about my family.”

  “Is that so? Tell me, do you know why your daddy is in jail? I mean the real reason.”

  My silence told the story. I wanted to wipe the smug smile off her face because she was winning this argument. I thought I did, but the reality was I knew nothing about my dad.

  “I’ve known your daddy for quite some time. What you know of him is nothing but a fabrication. What I know of him is real. You think he’s the loving, supportive father. I’m sorry to say, sugar, but there’s nothing to love about someone like that.”

  My blood sped like a freight train though my veins.

  “Maybe it’s time to take a good look at yourself, princess. Maybe you’re just like your father, nothing but a lie.”

  “I think you’ve said enough, Elva.”

  Jax leaned against the banister looking down on us, arms folded across his chest. It was easy to see him as the enemy, as the reason my world was falling apart, but the truth was more sinister. Perhaps Elva was right. The more I dug into the belly of this mess, the more I’d regret I ever started, the more I’d realize I didn’t know myself. Right now the truth seemed paramount, but maybe in the end, I would wish I’d lived ignorant in the lie.

  Elva launched to her feet, making even that sudden movement look graceful.

  “Just keeping the spot warm for you, sweetie.” She air-kissed him and strode across the lounge toward the gaming room. As she strode past me, I caught the sight of the tattoo for Aris behind her right ear for the first time.

  Jax remained like marble, a dark, unreachable presence. Looking at him now, I no longer saw the guy I’d first met in the convenience store. That guy was a two-dimensional ass. The guy before me now was a convoluted mess, just like me.

  “I didn’t expect you to come tonight.”

  “Send a message like that, what do you expect?”

  He snorted a huh sound, unfolded his arms, and left, heading back the way he’d come. I took that as an invitation and climbed the stairwell. At the top, I had a choice of doors, but none of them were open. Instead, at the end of a corridor were metal stairs, at the top an open door. I could open every door, or I could follow my instinct.

  I climbed the metal stairs, my boots clanking on the metal grille, with the moon as my guide. Outside the chill caught in my throat, and I wrapped my arms around me because I’d rushed from the house wearing only a thin jacket. Around Jax lay an assortment of chairs and cushions but he made no use of them. Instead he stood next to a large metal bowl, warming himself by the fire. The scene was cozy and intimate, like a lovers’ hideaway. Maybe staying in the entrance was the best place to be.

  “You can come closer. I do bite, but I won’t bite you, at least not now.”

  “That’s not funny.” The images of our last time in Dominus found their way into my memory with perfect clarity.

  “Do you want a drink?”

  I shook my head.

  He jerked his head to one side, where a pile of blankets sat, stacked and inviting. “Grab a blanket or come stand near the fire.”

  If I stood near the fire, I could watch his face while he gave me answers, catch the subtle expressions before he shut them down. “This isn’t a friendly visit.”

  “I’m rarely friendly.”

  “Why did you take me to Holden?”

  “He didn’t tell you?”

  “He did, but it sounds like science fiction. And I want to hear your explanation.”

  “Why? What makes my explanation more important?

  He stood in such a way shadows danced under his eyes. It should make him look spooky or sinister. It didn’t; in fact he’d never looked so good-looking. “Does Aris exist outside of Dominus?”

  His eyes ensnared me. But I was bound by more than his stare. I was bound by the secret hidden within me, but also in him.

  “Do you really want to know the answer to that question?”

  “There’s no point in hiding it anymore.”

  “Yes. I am Aris, Sable. That is all I am.”

  “But you’re a regular guy, you’re not like that…monster in Dominus.”

  With the mention of the word monster, a muscle on the left side of Jax’s jaw twitched. “I am Aris as you are Persal.”

  “I’m also a girl.”

  “No, you’re Persal.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means you shouldn’t be here.”

  “You promised the truth.”

  “I promised something you don’t want to hear.”

  If only everyone would stop assuming I was too scared to hear the truth. Seventeen years of lies. I couldn’t live ignorant anymore. “You were so willing to get me into the game. You said I was good enough, but now you don’t believe in me.”

  “Maybe I want what you have.”

  He was going cryptic again. “What?”

  He returned his eyes to the fire, drawing himself back from me, creating a chasm between us.

  “After what you’ve done, you owe me this.”

  “Ask me.”

  “Why won’t you help me with Dominus?”

  “I’m not Persal. I don’t know how to help you master your factional nature.”

  “Every faction experiences their nature differently?”

  “Yes. Only those within their faction can give the right guidance. Normally it’s a parent or other more experienced members. It’s important that you learn to control your nature, for a factional member without control is a very dangerous thing.”

  “I thought we were playing a game.”

  “We are. Dominus is a game. Your factional nature is very real.”

  “You designed Dominus to recruit and train those who have these abilities.”

  He didn’t seem surprised at my guessing right. “Yes. There’s you and then there’s your factional nature. Dominus is the bridge. The mental stimulation of the game draws it out of you, sets it free, forces you to embrace what lives within. Holden will keep you from losing yourself in the process—maybe—but you need Dominus to rewire fast.”

  “Rewire?”

  “Your mind is changing, being rewired to how it should be, which will enable you to be Persal. The headaches are part of it for you. For Aris, it is extreme muscle pain and an undeniable thirst.”

  “If our factional natures are a natural part of us, why do we need a game to force them through?”

  “A person’s factional nature will come through in time, in a slow and natural process, which doesn’t involve extreme headaches or muscle pain, but as I said, Dominus speeds the process, forces the neurons to rewire as they should. It’s the reason for the silver dots we place on your temples. But the process is fragile. If you pull out of
Dominus now, the process will not be completed, the rewiring will cease. And what’s left is not pretty. Not too many people remain sane when that happens.”

  “But why is this necessary?”

  “So you are ready for the impending war.”

  Holy crap. “Did you just say war?”

  “It’s coming, and we need to be ready.”

  I laughed because there was nothing else I could do with the ludicrous things he said, but the laugh tinged to hysteria. His face hardened as he stared into the fire. Without looking at me, he replied, “You wanted my secrets.”

  “Yes, but…Jax, how do you expect me to believe you? Look around you. The world is not about to explode into a factional war. I mean, at the moment, there aren’t even any factions, not according to the real world.”

  I didn’t want him to be a loony.

  “Explain what you are experiencing.” He jabbed at his head.

  “What…I…don’t know.”

  “You won’t because deep down you fear I’m telling the truth. You’re developing your factional nature and it scares the hell out of you. But guess what, Sable, that’s the real you. We’re not nice people when we’re consumed by our true nature.”

  I thought about his bloodstained teeth and the beetles that crawled from the gaping wound on my arm. He was right, fear rose up through my soul to sever any possible serenity I would ever have again.

  “Did Salvador play virtual?”

  “Yes.” Jax kept his eyes on the fire.

  “And what about the other gamers whose funerals you attended? Did they play virtual?”

  Face bathed in firelight, there was little I missed of his expression, including the tension in his jaw. He chose to stare at the dancing flames rather than at me, nor did he reply.

  “They played virtual, didn’t they?”

  “They weren’t good enough.” His voice was like a whip.

  “Because they didn’t believe enough in themselves,” I whispered.

  As quick as his outburst had been, he sucked the anger back in, all the way in until he seemed to be collapsing in on himself as his head sunk to his chest, eyes closing, like a shutdown, a shielding from my persistent demands for the truth.

  No way would I give him the reprieve his body language cried for. “But what do you mean? Weren’t good enough for what?”

  “They didn’t survive Dominus. They were strong but not strong enough.”

  “Are you saying they died because of Dominus?”

  “The game uses your neural—”

  “Holden told me that.”

  “The game convinces you everything is real.”

  “He told me that too.” My throat constricted such that I couldn’t breathe. I knew what he was going to say. I didn’t want him to say it. I didn’t want to hear.

  “If you die in the game, you die for real.”

  “And you want Ajay to play.” My sudden emotion sucked the last few words back into my throat.

  Finally I had his eyes, and I would give him the full hatred of what now lived in mine. “I won’t let this happen. I won’t let you touch Ajay.”

  “We have you.”

  “You asshole,” was all I managed through my tears, tears of rage. But they were more than that. I felt this great emptying inside of me as, bit by bit, my insides were being scooped right out, going further until my skin felt shredded and torn, leaving me exposed and vulnerable, with nothing holding me together. It was the same when the verdict was read in court and Dad was led away. It was an instability, like nothing was normal, nothing was all right, like an anchor holding me to this life, to me, had been severed, setting me adrift, alone.

  Jax came around the fire toward me.

  “Don’t come near me.” I backed up a few paces. “You’re a monster.”

  He stopped, no gloating, no triumph, no anger in his expression. I turned away because I hated what I saw in his expression—the reflection of my own pain, eyes like hollow pits stemming from a heart shattered.

  “I know.” Uttered with sincerity. I wanted to launch myself at him, pound my fists at the wall of his own silent despair, because how could I fight against someone who was also bleeding?

  “I’m not the one who makes the decisions. I want you to know that.”

  “Who does?”

  “I don’t want to tell you.” He risked coming closer. This close I could smell the smoke clinging to his shirt; beneath that I could smell a hint of cologne and the faint sour smell of sweat. “Just do it.”

  “You don’t want to hear this.”

  “No.” I jabbed a finger at him. “You don’t get to decide.”

  “Your dad and another man called Carter.”

  I shoved him away, needing space to blunt the suffocation I felt. “You’re joking. That’s not true. It can’t be.”

  Jax reached for my hand, but I jerked it away, spun and escaped to the edge of the building. My family had been played better than I could have ever imagined. Poor Mum was inside the devil’s lair. “Carter had him locked away so he could get to us, didn’t he?”

  “That wasn’t the reason Carter did it. But it provided easy access to you, yes.”

  “Why were you in Dram Truckers?”

  “To meet you.”

  “Was that because Carter told you to?”

  “Yes. But I would’ve done it anyway.”

  “What does Carter want with my mum?”

  “Your cooperation. He also wants to thoroughly screw your father over like he knew Nixon was about to do to him.”

  Since I was fast discovering how little I knew of the man I called Dad, I couldn’t argue for his innocence.

  He came to stand beside me at the edge of the roof and stared out over the skyline.

  “You were right all along. I never had a choice.”

  “Your father never wanted you involved. He protected you for all these years.” He spoke with a soft voice because he was standing close. It was the wrong voice for revealing such a brutal truth.

  “It’s too late to say that now.”

  “You can hate your father all you like, but he loves you.”

  With the fire at our backs, the lights from the city night below, his expression was not clear enough for me to see the nuance of his emotion. “Why are you saying this?”

  “I know what it is like to lose a father. I was glad when Carter framed him, glad to see him suffer, but you’re his daughter. You shouldn’t feel the same way.”

  “So Dad is innocent?”

  “Of those crimes he was convicted for, yes. The guy died because he was a recruit to Dominus. Your father didn’t kill him, not directly at least.” He turned to me, one side of his face lit by the fire, the other obscured by the night. “It was because of him you were kept out of Dominus.”

  “It’s obvious you hate him, so I don’t understand why you are sticking up for him.”

  “You have a father. I wish I still did.”

  I thought, after everything Jax had revealed, I would be numb, that all my emotions had already bled dry. But his simple words of pain kindled something inside my shattered heart. I looked down at his hand, extended for me to grasp, and a small shadow of emotion flared. Dominus was a bridge, he’d said. When I looked down at his hand, I also saw a bridge, a faint flicker that I wasn’t alone. Instead of taking his hand, I ran a finger over the tattoo on his arm, the same as the one I’d seen in Aris HQ, his guide when all was lost.

  I looked up to the tattoo behind his ear, revealed in the firelight, the symbol of his loyalty to his family, the symbol of strength, unity, and courage. “How strong is your conviction?”

  “Unyielding.”

  “Your loyalty?”

  “Unbreakable.”

  “When all is lost?”

  “Until the end.”

  He took my hand. “I want to show you something else.”

  “I don’t know if I can take any more.”

  “You want all of my secrets?”

 
Did I? I placed my hand in his and allowed him to lead me.

  Chapter 19

  Jax climbed up onto the waist-high brick wall that demarcated the end of the roof and a four-story drop below. “Jax—”

  “Come.” He held out his hand. “I’ve told you my secrets; now you have to trust me.” His voice was so gentle I couldn’t refuse.

  I followed him up. He held my hand firmly and it felt like an anchor.

  “I don’t like heights.”

  “Then don’t look down.”

  “What are we doing up here?”

  “You wanted to know what happened on the Adolphy Tower. I’m going to show you.”

  “I don’t think I want to know anymore.”

  “This is your one opportunity to take command of your life, to be who you are meant to be. Are you willing to take that opportunity? If not, you can climb down off this wall and walk away. But if you want to see what’s on the other side of your fear, then follow me.”

  I looked sideways at him.

  He smiled the most perfect smile. “Trust me.”

  “We’re going to jump?”

  “I don’t want to pull you off, so go with me. I know how brave you are. I know you can do this.”

  In the last couple of months, I’d been stripped bare. After tonight it felt like there was nothing left of who I’d been. I could turn away, choose to step off this wall, but if I did, it would be like I’d unplugged from Dominus and left my mind half rewired and me a fragmented mess. The alternative was that I choose to live a different life, choose to be a different person, choose to no longer exist but fight.

  I looked across at Jax. “Yes.”

  “Yes what?”

  “I want to be more than who I am.”

  He squeezed my hand. “On the count of three.”

  I closed my eyes and all I heard was the count of one, then my mind blanked out. Next thing, there was a tug on my hand. I left my scream behind as I plummeted over the edge and down. The ice wind caught my hair, slapped against my cheeks, ran down my throat, found hidden places beneath my clothes. I couldn’t suck enough air into my lungs. This was not like flying. There was no sense of freedom, only falling, falling, falling to oblivion.

  Would I feel that split-second impact when my bones splintered and organs were crushed? Would I be able to acknowledge for even the shortest moment the nanosecond before I died?