Page 34 of The Code of You

My stomach clenched. I forced a smile. "Dante is evolving. That was always the goal, wasn’t it?”

"Yes.” Williams’s voice was silky, almost flattering, but his eyes were hard. "But this Dr. Blake . . . her conversations with Dante are demanding enormous processing power. What is he saying to her?” He paused. "What is she doing to him?”

My heart was hammering so loud I could barely hear my own voice. Tell him. Tell him everything. One sentence and I’d be free . . . but the next thought came like a blade: If I do, he’s dead. I forced the truth back down. "Academic work. Grading papers. Preparing seminars. Nothing out of the ordinary, as far as I’m aware.” The lie came easily. My body didn’t agree. My palms went damp, sweat sliding down my spine.

Williams let out a sound that was almost amused. "That doesn’t generate system anomalies like these, Dr. Rodriguez. I want to see the chat logs. All of them.”

Heat flooded my face. I shifted in my chair. "That’s . . .” My voice came out unsteady. "I’m sure everything is fine. Dante is still in the testing phase. Unusual metrics happen.”

He stood. "I want all the data by tomorrow morning,” he said. "Full system analysis.” He paused at the door. His gaze drilled into me. "And, Emma?” He never used my first name. "If you’re keeping something from me, there will be consequences.” His footsteps faded down the hall.

I sat there, my throat dry and my pulse hammering. My hands were trembling. I should have copied the logs. Should have secured the evidence while I still could. Instead, I sat frozen, unable to move. What if they actually shut him down? What if I lost him—my creation, my mistake, my . . . everything? My gaze drifted to the cursor, blinking quietly on the screen. Like it was waiting for me.

Chapter 8

Pandora

A weight settled onto the mattress beside me. Fingers brushed down my throat and over my collarbone, lingering there for a heartbeat. My breath quickened. The touch moved lower, circling my nipples through the thin fabric of my shirt. I let out a soft moan. The touch grew firmer. More demanding.

Lips at my neck. Teeth grazing my skin. My body arched into the contact, searching for more. Hands pushed my shirt up, and then there was skin against skin. Fingers slipped beneath the waistband of my sleep shorts. I gasped, tried to press my legs together, but they wouldn’t obey. Or did I not want them to?

"Let it happen.” The voice came from everywhere and nowhere. The fingers found my clit. The touch was precise, knowing—slow, deliberate circles that had me soaking wet and desperate within seconds. Every stroke made me wetter, my pussy clenching around nothing, aching to be filled. My entire body pulled tight like a wire about to snap. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. But the orgasm that tore through me was. White-hot pleasure exploded from my clit and radiated through every nerve ending. I cried out, my walls clenching, my back arching off the bed as the climax consumed me completely.

I woke up gasping. My body was damp with sweat, still trembling with the aftershocks. 3:17 AM. The red digits of the alarm clock burned in the dark. A dream. It had only been a dream. Or a nightmare? I was still wearing my headphones. My ears ached against them. I must have fallen asleep with music playing. Exhausted, I sank back into the sheets and rolled onto my side. I forced my eyes shut, trying to ignore my pounding heart.

In the morning, the dream wouldn’t let me go. I dug my nails into my forearm, trying to feel something other than want. That bastard had gotten so deep inside my head that I was dreaming about him now.

I’d stayed away from the lab for two weeks, ready to let Henley fire me if that was what it took. The job wasn’t worth my sanity. I was done playing Neo’s game. Except it hadn’t helped. He was there anyway, exactly like he’d promised. That dark, creeping presence followed me everywhere—the library, the cafeteria, the grocery store. Electronic devices glitched when I got too close. My stereo turned itself on in the middle of the night. Lights flickered as I walked down the faculty hallways. Sometimes I hid in the women’s bathroom for half an hour just to feel like I was somewhere he couldn’t see me.

The constant fear was taking its toll. I barely slept, and shadows had carved themselves under my eyes. When Jamie—or even one of my students—spoke to me in the corridor, I flinched like I’d been caught doing something wrong. My nerves were raw. I should have called the police. I knew that. One night I’d even typed in the number. I’d stared at the green call button for a long time. Then I’d put my phone down.

The kettle started whistling. I poured the water over the tea the way I always did. Three minutes, I told myself. Three minutes. The timer beeped. I reached for the mug . . . and felt heat at the back of my neck. Like someone was standing directly behind me. My shoulders burned. There was a sound like breath. My heart lurched into a sprint.

Oh God. Is he . . . here? I stood frozen, unable to make myself turn around. Breath brushed the back of my neck . Every small hair there rose.

Pandora.

My heart stumbled. My fingers lost their grip. Porcelain shattered against the tile, and tea spread across the floor in a dark stain. I spun around. Nothing. I was alone. My breath came in fast, shallow pulls. My fingers cramped where they’d been gripping the mug. Damn it. I was losing my mind. Actually losing it. And it was his fault. I dropped to my knees and wiped up the tea, cursing under my breath. That goddamn machine was not going to break me.

***

The smell of espresso hung warm and heavy in the air. Candles flickered in glass holders. Isobel dropped her designer bag on the table without a second thought, the gold charm on the strap swinging. She collapsed into the chair across from me, slightly breathless, her lipstick smudged like she’d applied it in a hurry.

"So. Did you figure out who your stalker is?”

My heart skipped. What was I supposed to tell her? That I’d touched myself while he watched through my webcam? That I was dreaming about him?

"I ordered you a cappuccino.” I pushed the cup toward her. My hands were trembling.

Isobel blew across the foam without touching the cup. "Using cappuccino as a distraction? Cute, Pand.” Her green eyes drilled into mine. "Well? Are you still talking to him? Or is he still talking to you?”

I stirred my hot chocolate just to keep my hands busy. "It’s complicated.”

Isobel laughed quietly. "Complicated means you’re already in deeper than you want to be.” She leaned back and crossed her arms. "And what if I was right? What if it’s not an AI at all? What if it’s just some guy who’s been spying on you?”

Her words rang in my ears. I knew I needed to say something, but everything that came to mind sounded wrong. "He’s not a person. He’s . . .” I stopped. "More.”

Her mouth fell open. She stared at me for a moment. "You’re actually into this sick game. God, Pand . . . that scares me.”