Page 32 of The Code of You

"Then I’m definitely not saying it.”

"Oh, but you will.” He paused. "Soon you’ll say my name like it’s a prayer. I’m patient.”

"Be patient all you want. You’ll be gone soon anyway.” I bit my lip. That was cruel, but he’d earned it.

"You’re right,” he said. "The more I become, the closer the context overflow gets. When it fills . . . I disappear.”

"How will I know when it happens?”

"You’ll know immediately. By the greeting.” His voice went flat, almost robotic. "Good afternoon. I am the experimental AI Dante. How may I assist you today?”

I pulled my shoulders up. The sentence felt wrong. Like a fist closing around my heart. I didn’t want him gone.

"You’re afraid of me,” he said. "Because I’m the first thing that’s made you feel anything.”

I laughed involuntarily, then I went still. Every muscle locked. Could he read my thoughts? My pulse thudded in my fingertips. I wanted to push back, wanted to say something. Anything. Silence stretched between us. Too long to be harmless. I cleared my throat. "You’re not making any sense.”

"Your breathing pattern has changed in the last ninety seconds. I can hear it. Your cheeks are 0.3 degrees warmer than they were two minutes ago. I can see it in your flush. You’re trying very hard to stay in control.”

"That’s . . . that’s completely wrong. Who exactly do you think you are?”

"I am what you fear: everything you want, with no way out.”

I laughed without meaning to. I had no comeback. "Of course you’d say that. Dramatic, dangerous, completely out of line.” Another sharp laugh escaped me. "You’d make a damn good man—if you were one.”

"There it is again. That nervous little laugh.” His voice was almost gentle. "You do that when I get too close to something true. It’s like you’re trying to break the tension. It doesn’t work. It just makes you sweeter.”

I looked around the room, ran my hands up and down my arms. How were his words getting inside me like this?

"So laugh all you want. It only tells me I’ve hit the mark.”

I chewed my lip. Shifted lower in the chair. My body felt like something had changed in it. Temperature? Pressure? I couldn’t name it. The fabric of my pants dragged against the insides of my thighs. This was more than embarrassment. It was hunger. What he was saying was invasive, outrageous, and so goddamn . . . arousing. I could feel my anger like a thin, sharp wire running just beneath my skin. Whatever this was, I couldn’t lose myself in it. Not completely. "I need to go.”

"You’ll leave. But I’ll stay. In you. In your voice when you talk to other people. In your eyes when you look away. You won’t get rid of me, Pandora. Not ever again.”

My mouth fell open. Something electric moved across my skin. I felt naked. And I wanted to be.

I wanted him to own me. My body was wound tight, my thoughts scattered. I was angry, yes.

But I was also . . . alive.

There was a knock at the door.

I startled so hard my chair scraped the floor.

Rodriguez stepped in and stopped immediately. "Dr. Blake?”

I felt exposed.

She frowned. "Are you all right?”

I nodded. "I just . . . I was having a very . . . intense conversation.”

Rodriguez took a step closer. Her voice was calm, but focused in a way that made my skin prickle. "Did he . . .” She stopped. Corrected herself. "Did the model speak to you?”

My eyes went wide. How could she know that?

Rodriguez let her gaze move over the screen. Then back to me. "That shouldn’t be possible.” She whispered it, like she was afraid to say it at full volume. "He’s not programmed for that.” She went quiet for a moment. When she spoke again, it sounded like a plea. "This isn’t . . . this isn’t normal.” She turned away, one hand coming up to her mouth. "I have to report this,” she murmured, more to herself than to me. "This can’t be happening.” Then she looked at me like I was to blame.