But this was Jules Havel…
The tingle started in her extremities as Brenya went icy cold, yet she was left sweating. Because she knew what manic Alphas could do. Could feel the rough wall at her back as Jacques hitched her up in that alley, as if the violation and the pain were happening all over again.
Her screams. How Betas watched, shocked.
No one did anything.
She’d almost died that day.
Excited Alphas were more than dangerous. They were animals.
“Don’t you dare faint!” Lucia hissed, partnering her threat with a series of light slaps on Brenya’s cheek. “Snap out of it! My Almendra and Lourdes will not die because you are so weak!”
“I could…” Her breath was coming too fast, her mind working even faster. “I could turn off the power in Central. Or… flood the streets. Water would…. If I could get to an access panel, we can get inside.”
She could initiate incineration protocol and burn them all to death in a matter of moments…
And that one errant thought had her horrified.
“Commodorina, no. You misunderstand.” Accent thick, Lucia began to rub feeling back into Brenya’s arms. “You must not cause a stampede when systems fail. Or instigate a greater panic. What if you accidentally drowned women who did not know how to navigate the streets? No. It’s too late to stop what has already started. This isn’t about intervention; it’s about community later.”
But then it would be too late. Brenya realizing that these women were nothing like her pragmatic sisters in Beta Sector. They were not action, they were conversation. “Why?”
Something passed through Lucia’s eyes, a hit of that hidden fear… of Brenya. “You said you’d spent these last weeks buildinga clock. People are not clocks, Brenya. They are not like you. Or like Commodore Havel. Okay?”
Brenya needed Lucia to understand how wrong she was about Bernard Dome. “I don’t think you understand how Bernard Dome works if you don’t think the people here are like clocks. Beta Sector is a highly functioning mechanism where everyone has their place. There would be no panic there if the power flickered. Everyone has been trained. Distraction would move people to positions where they could be accounted for.”
Whatever point Lucia was trying to make, she was floundering and frustrated. “Take their drugs away, and they would be like anyone else.”
“I don’t think you are correct.” Brenya wasn’t like the people in Central. She was nothing like the pretty women in the room. She wasn’t even like lovely Annette. She was like Georges. And Georges was steady and noble. “You should cut off the power, turn off the lights, make it dangerously cold?—”
“It’s too late, Brenya! They have already been raped.” Grief made Lucia’s lip shiver, the woman catching herself and composing her expression before she explained, “The strongest male will win. That is how it is. That is what our species becomes when society fails. Tell your mate that in the morning he must issue an order for all Omegas to be brought here and registered under the ownership of their Alphas. We need a headcount and doctors ready. They will need support,and you are going to give it to them!”
And there was the grand flaw with Lucia.
She had no idea.
Even after Ancil, she had no idea what she was up against.
Central was savage, and Jules had taken her to breakfast instead of dealing with the mess he knew took place outside. His men, her guards, were listening and would report every last word to their leader. None of this conversation had been forBrenya. Lucia had intended every word for Jules, using Brenya’s presence as an anchor.
A subtle offer to train his mate in superior sexual technique.
The implication that she would guide Brenya into beauty and grace.
She was negotiating while Brenya sat there and blinked.
For a registry…
Fingering the hanks of brown hair in her lap, Brenya didn’t know who she was more angry with. Lucia jerking her around, or Jules for participating.
“Don’t you see? It isn’t that the Omegas arehere; it’swhythey are here, Lucia. Jules knew. It might have even been his idea. You’re bartering with a man who let this happen for reasons that should scare you very much.” Because Brenya knew things. She knew what he would do… to keep her safe. “I don’t know what, but something bad was going to happen. Something worse than… what was done. The ship was intentional. And now Central is in lockdown for reasons no one will question—which gives Jules an advantage. And you’re worried about registries.” It was pity in her eyes, pity that their sisters were all suffering and nothing could be done. “Those gates won’t be going up tomorrow, Lucia. Your sisters are trapped in Central with the Alphas who were waiting for them, so I suggest you let me turn off the power, cut the lights, flood the streets, and make it cold. And then we’ll find your sisters and?—”
“Mrs. Havel, it’s time to return to the Commodore’s floor.” The guard who stepped forward spoke in flawless French, even better than Jules’s, his face deeply pockmarked, a scar gouged across his cheek, but genteel. Charismatic. He even smiled.
But charisma had no power over someone like Brenya. “No. I’m getting a haircut, and I’m drinking tea. I will not go with you.”
“I insist.”
