Page 122 of Crimson Moon Falling

My damaged heart was beating too fast. Not quite arrhythmia, but close enough that my implant registered it and sent a corrective pulse out. I sat on the edge of the bed, my finger hovering over Marlowe’s number. There were a dozen reasons not to do this, but McKenna and the other victims deserved a chance.

Dozens, maybe hundreds, of supernaturals had been wired, chipped, and turned into weapons. People who’d been kidnapped, tortured, and had their minds wiped and reprogrammed. They were victims, not monsters.

And Marlowe knew how the tech worked. I took a breath, let it out slowly, then pressed send. He answered on the second ring.

“Hello, sweetheart.” His voice sounded exactly the way I remembered it in my nightmares. Deep and melodious, with that faint undercurrent of mocking superiority. Like poisoned honey.

“Marlowe.” I kept my voice flat.

“I was wondering if you’d call.” I could hear the smile in his voice, the quiet pleasure. “Though I didn’t expect it so soon. The interview was... bold.”

“It was either go big or let you and your corrupt friends take over the government.”

He chuckled. “General Wilson was never my friend. He was useful, but there’s a difference.”

I closed my eyes. My implant cataloged his vocal patterns, cadence of his speech, and the subtle shifts in his mood, filing it all away and building a profile. The device had gotten better at understanding and categorizing humans.

“I watched the interview,” he continued in a conversational tone. “You told the world you can Spool. You're an outlier Resonant and a Spooler. Do you have any idea how rare you are?”

I walked over to the window and stared out. “I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

“No,” he snapped, “I don’t believe you do. Because if you did, you wouldn’t have disclosed to the whole world what you’re truly capable of.” His words came out sharp and angry. But he sucked in a breath, and his smooth veneer slid back in place. “You should’ve protected yourself and your secrets. But I’ll help watch over you.”

My stomach clenched. “I don’t need your protection. Citizens should know what Apex has done, and what they plan to do.”

“A coup was never my plan, pet. Wilson is reactionary and short-sighted. Why overthrow the government when we can easily control it without all the danger and upheaval? I should have figured out what you are,” he went on. “At Roswell, after I saw what you did to Dr. Abrams and your chip. You were magnificent, and I should have known. A Spooler. Christ.” His breathing had picked up. “I’ve spent countless hours going over every second with you. Every camera feed, every witness statement. I miss it. I miss you, and I know somewhere inside, you miss me too.”

“You’re delusional if you think I miss you or Roswell.”

His voice softened again to that dangerous, intimate tone. “You belong to me, pet. We’re meant to be together.”

“No, we aren’t, Marlowe.”

He sighed ruefully. “Maybe not, but our fates are intertwined, Blackthorne.”

The implant sent another cold pulse through me, trying to regulate the fear and repulsion pumping through my system.

“I’m going to be honest with you.” My voice came out steadier than I expected. “I think you’re a manipulative, soulless, narcissistic bastard who enjoys torturing and playing with innocent people. The thought of being anywhere near you makes me want to peel my skin off, and I’d rather be dead than be under your control again.”

I thought he’d hung up at first, then he let out a soft, almost inaudible chuckle. Not anger, but amusement. It was somehow worse.

“You’ve never been good at lying, even when you think you’re telling the truth.” His voice was almost fond. “You called me. Why?”

Right. It was time to get to the reason I put myself through this. “Your victims. I want to know how to break the conditioning and deprogram them. Or at least neutralize the effects.”

Another pause. Longer this time as he calculated the angles. “You want to save them.”

“Yes.”

“Why?” he asked again.

“Because they’re people who had lives and loved ones. They aren’t weapons or pets, and someone needs to help them.”

He made a dismissive sound. “I gave them purpose and structure. Most were broken or drifting, and we gifted them with enhanced abilities.”

“You turned them into mindless killing machines.”

“I improved them.” His voice had that edge again. “The newest implants are remarkable and far more integrated. Your Spooling abilities would be even more powerful. No more blowback, blackouts, or nosebleeds. You’ll be able to access your full potential without burning out.”