Overhead lights flicker on one at a time, illuminating a path down the basement corridor. Its concrete walls are interspersed with heavy wooden doors, each labeled by a simple engraved plaque.

“The Rope Room.”

“The Paddle Room.”

“The Electro Room.”

“The Cage Room.”

And so on, and so forth.

My footfalls echo loudly as I pass, the subtle hum of the ventilation system the only other sound in the hallway. Later tonight, the muted cries of 15 will surely be audible here, but not yet. The cells I pass are empty, biding their time until another wayward soul enters their clutches. The number and diversity of my punishment rooms may seem excessive, but variety is the spice of life, as they say. Plus, given the remote location of my manor, it simply wouldn’t do to suddenly discover myself lacking the space or equipment necessary for proper discipline. Better to have everything I could ever need on hand. I also like to believe it’s good for my slaves, having so many tools of correction to clean and maintain. Certainly, some of them seem to take lascivious pleasure in the act, becoming caretakers for the instruments of their own subjugation.

Idly, I begin to wonder which, if any, I will have to employ in Diana’s training. And which might become her favorite.

Brimming with anticipation, I reach the final door, beyond which the conversion chamber lies. Its heavy locks require a keycard for entry, which I quickly withdraw from my pocket and swipe. The ka-chunk of the unlocking mechanism reverberates down the corridor, followed by a faint beep as the light above the door handle winks green. Twisting it open, I enter where my newest conquest awaits.

Contrary to what most would assume, the conversion chamber does not resemble a dungeon or holding pen of any sort. Instead, its appearance hews more closely to that of a small guest room, complete with a soft bed in one corner and an en suite bathroom in the other. The walls are decorated with old maps and landscape paintings, the largest of which hangs above a fireplace crackling merrily in the dim light. The only hints as to the room’s true purpose lie in its lack of windows and clocks, strategic exemptions intended to prevent potential recruits from understanding exactly where or when they are. Additionally, despite being located underground, the ceiling is so high as to vanish completely into darkness, further unmooring an occupant’s sense of direction.

These, in my experience, are the ideal conditions in which to turn unwilling converts into eager slaves. Most recruits spend their brainwashing sessions in and out of lucidity, making it important to keep them feeling disoriented, but not overtly threatened. The last thing you want is for their survival instincts to suddenly kick in mid-session, throwing their mind into chaos and threatening the rewiring process. As such, heavy-handed tools such as blindfolds or chains are reserved for later, after a subject has already accepted their position as chattel-in-training. At this early stage, it’s far safer and more efficient to keep them confused, but more-or-less comfortable. Eventually, their lack of certainty will lead them to conclude, however subconsciously, that you are all that they can trust. From there, everything gradually falls into place.

The loud clank of the resealing locks makes me wince but does not appear to reach either of the women seated by the fire. Diana remains immobile, arms gracelessly dangling over either side of the chair, head titled at an odd angle as drool trickles from her lips. The messy bangs of her asymmetrical bob cover one eye, but the other stares ahead with little awareness or understanding, as placid as a doll’s painted pupil. Her full, slightly perky breasts rise and fall with gentle, languid breath, not a trace of tension visible across her bare skin. It seems the conversion is going well, and I can hardly wait to witness such beauty under my command.

Still, as enchanted as I am by my guest, I force my attention onto the other gorgeous woman in the room: 13, my head of recruitment, still clad in the figure-hugging cocktail dress from the previous night. Ever a lover of beauty, I take a moment to admire my Gifted slave’s elegant curves and long, graceful legs, her face a delicate sculpture of femininity, even when tightly locked in concentration. It is a little strange, seeing her so focused when her subject appears to have all but surrendered. As I prepare to announce my presence, however, I suddenly notice:

13 is shaking. From head to toe.

Strange. She shouldn’t be struggling so visibly. Puzzled, I move closer for a better look. That’s when I notice 13’s keycard resting in the fire, bending and melting beneath the flames.

How did that get there? Was it a clumsy mistake? Or did she intentionally destroy her only way in and out of this room? The first option seems unlikely, but the only reason she would undertake the second would be…

Wait.

NO.

Understanding crashes through me in panicked rush, knocking aside all previous assumptions. My gaze whirls to the other chair, right as Diana’s mask of docility falls, her single visible eye now glaring at me with sudden, vicious clarity, a sapphire filled with the fire’s burning glow.

If I’d paid closer attention to the camera feed, maybe I would’ve noticed sooner. But no—the flickering light made it impossible to tell until now. Without coming here myself, I never would’ve imagined the truth: that what I witnessed wasn’t 13 brainwashing Diana; it was Diana brainwashing 13!

In the time it takes for me to understand my error, the first attack hits. Diana’s Gift crashes into my mind like a linebacker, nearly knocking me off my feet. Instinct is my only savior, my defenses rising before she can penetrate beyond surface-level thoughts. Still, I am dizzy and badly off-balance, unused to direct combat after so many years unchallenged.

When her voice enters my head, it rattles me with the force of a thousand pounding drums.

RELEASE ME, she demands.

I stagger back, gritting my teeth so hard the enamel might crack. I’m not so helpless as to obey her command, but in trying to resist her, my unsteady thoughts can’t help but recall the keycard in my pocket. I briefly hope she’s too inexperienced to notice, but the subtle arch of her eyebrow tells me otherwise. Her ambush may not have landed a killing blow, but it still forced a key piece of information from my head. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I curse my sloppiness.

The pressure of her Gift eases slightly as she springs from the chair and approaches. Still struggling to maintain control, I force myself up to my full height and widen my stance, intent on stopping her with sheer physical force. But before I can, 13 suddenly lurches from the side, slamming into me and knocking us both to the ground.

I snarl. That bitch! How dare she turn my own property against me! Flailing on the floor, I swipe at Diana’s legs. She nimbly avoids my empty fist. In the next moment, I feel 13’s Gift focus on me, working in tandem with my nemesis to keep me down. Again, I’m forced back into my head, unable to move as I shield my mind from their two-pronged attack. Diana grabs the keycard from my pocket, smirks down at my prone form, and practically skips away towards the exit. I growl between grit teeth, helpless to do anything else.

Then something strange happens.

Diana unlocks the door. But she doesn’t run through it. Instead, she stops short, eyes wide with shock. On the other side, 19 blinks, her mouth opening to form a silent, surprised “oh.” At her feet, 01 glares up warily at Diana, lips curling slightly as a low growl rumbles her throat. Dimly, I realize that 19 must’ve come down here after 01’s bath, seeking to return my pet to my side. Diana, of course, has no way of knowing this. She looks between the poised maid and the leashed, nude woman, completely at a loss.

For a moment, everyone appears frozen, as though time itself has stopped upon a single, stunned second.

“Um.” 19 blinks. “You’re not…”

“19!” I yell. “Code Black! Now!”

Everything snaps into motion at once.

19 moves to slam the door closed and disable the unlocking mechanism, executing the security protocol I just initiated. Diana lunges forward to intervene, the pressure upon my mind easing as she redirects her power onto my other slaves. In that same instant, 01 yips and pounces upon the shapely psychic, pinning her to the floor. The two naked women struggle, 01’s hands seizing her opponent’s throat, Diana’s Gift no doubt struggling to navigate 01’s mangled mind.

It’s the opportunity I need. With Diana distracted, I easily overpower 13’s mental hold, breaking her defenses and severing her consciousness with a single, surgical strike. She stiffens, then topples over, limp as a ragdoll. Extracting myself from beneath her, I turn in time to see 01 suddenly go rigid, eyes rolling back and jaw going slack, a faint whimper escaping her as she appears to lose control of her body. Beneath her, Diana grunts and throws the smaller woman to the side, my beloved pet hitting the ground with a bone-jarring thud.

The sound reverberates in my ears, triggering a throb of rage in my chest. I rise with a roar and charge my Gifted opponent. She turns, fear flashing across her features moments before I make contact. My muscular body crashes into her, lifting her off the ground and slamming her against a nearby wall. The impact expels a pained gasp from her lungs. I pin her wrists above her head with one massive hand, the other closing around her slender neck.

“You’re mine,” I snarl, forcing her gaze to meet mine before I thrust my Gift into her mind. Her eyes flash, her senses recovering just in time to parry my initial strike. My power glances across her psyche, shards of emotion flying like sparks, fleeting impressions of fear, anger, and…something else.

No time to linger. I throw out another attack, aiming at the nexus of her bodily control. Surprisingly, her power catches mine before the blow can land, the raw strength of her Gift rebuffing me like solid brick. I recoil, momentarily stunned. She presses the advantage, psychic claws greedily grasping for my consciousness.

On the backfoot mentally, I’m forced to counter physically. I tighten my hand around her throat, cutting off her oxygen and breaking her concentration. Her psychic pressure abates. I squeeze harder, her fingers scraping uselessly at mine, unable to stop me from slowly choking her unconscious. But then somehow, her Gift seems to rally, its full power suddenly laser-focused on my grip. I feel my grasp slip, and a great gulp of air enter her lungs. Before I can reassert control, she redoubles her psychic assault, pushing me out my body and back into my head.

Time loses its meaning as our mental melee resumes. Our Gifts clash, entwine, break and reform, ceaselessly seeking an upper hand. Diana fights like a crazed she-wolf, powerful jaws snapping at my neck with wild, terrifying persistence. There was a time when I could match such raw fury blow-for-blow, but not now. Now, I wield my ability like a great, ancient serpent, gliding between her attacks and coiling around her defenses, seeking enough leverage to force her into submission.

It’s no easy task. But I must admit, our struggle is, somehow…electrifying. There’s a fascinating beauty in her untamed gaze, the feral fire in her eyes drawing me in, magnifying my desire. I haven’t felt so driven, so desperate, so alive in ages.

Perhaps that is what causes the sudden spark.

Or perhaps it arose from her own feelings towards me. It’s impossible to tell, with our minds so tightly entangled. Whatever the case, there it is: a flare of longing. A flicker of lust. An opportunity to end the stalemate. If I can force this feeling into her, if I can melt her resistance with burning want, victory will be mine at last.

Unfortunately, it seems my opponent has the same idea. Both of our Gifts surge into flames at once, exploding them with the force of our meeting.

A powerful yearning bursts within my blood. I am stricken anew by the gorgeous woman standing before me, as if somehow seeing her for the first time. Her soft, pursed lips. Her elegant jaw. The inviting slope of her neck. The tousled strands of her hair. Oh, how I long to trace my lips down her clavicle. To scoop the soft flesh of her beast into my mouth. To feel her nipple harden against my tongue. How I ache to hear her moan. To savor the supple swell of her thighs. To taste sweet warmth between them.

An unbidden growl rakes my throat. Then a pleading whimper teases my ears. Surprised, my gaze rises to hers once again, but something is different. Though her dark brows remain knit with concentration, the gleam in her pupils is no longer hateful. It’s hungry. Her breathing has slowed, every exhale a shuddering sigh, a sign the animal in me can’t ignore. When she shifts in my grasp, it is not with the intent to pull away. Her hips strain towards me, her long lashes fluttering as her sex grazes my leg, leaving a wet, sticky trail behind.

My breath catches. She bites her lip.

I do not know who makes the first move. But suddenly, my mouth is pressed against hers in a breathless, ravenous kiss. She melts against me, our bodies perfectly entwined, a soft moan passing from her lips to mine. Our tongues meet. They dance together in tandem, just as our Gifts enmesh in shared, simultaneous desire.

The connection is unlike anything else. It goes beyond attraction. Beyond understanding. Beyond the mere meeting of male and female. I feel her as I feel myself. When I release her wrists to cup her breasts, I feel both their exquisite shape and the heat of my own touch. When she wraps one leg around mine, press her slick cunt against my thigh, my rigid sex strains with sympathetic yearning, until we’re pressed tight against one another, grinding with thoughtless, hedonistic need. Her fingers run through my hair, pulling me into the depths of her hunger. When I grasp her jaw, it is no longer out of a wish to control, but to contribute, to feed the want that is no longer hers or mine, but ours.

Which one of us decides when the kiss should break? At who’s behest do I disrobe and disarm myself? Impossible to tell; just as it is impossible to know whether she sinks to her knees out of submission or fascination, her eyes fixed on my hardened cock emerging from my boxers. A coquettish smile quirks her lips, her fingers teasing the taut redness of my flesh. She glances up at me, mirroring my own lustful gaze before kissing and licking the length of my shaft. When it twitches, I feel an echoing sensation within her. Her pulse quickens in perfect sync with mine, her eyes hazy with longing as my member rests heavily upon her face, a bead of precum dripping onto the bridge of her nose.

A powerful impulse seizes me. I do not know from where. It doesn’t matter. I am suddenly pulling her upright, hoisting her into my, a tiny squeak of joy escaping her lips. Several large strides across the room, and I toss her onto the mattress, her curves rippling as she bounces and giggles. I crawl onto the sheets soon after, my head descending between her parting thighs. Her laughter melts into a moan, the barest grazing of my tongue enough to send an electric thrill through both of us. I take my time, savoring the sweetness of her, the hot ribbon of pleasure coiling and tightening between us. Her fingers pull my hair as I suck and swirl her throbbing clit. We ascend towards climax as one, two bodies riding the same delirious wave, cresting its peak until it crashes with an exuberant cry. Yet even as her spasms of pleasure threaten to undo me, our shared concentration holds my release, my cock twitching yet retaining its strength as I look up from her soaking folds.

Our gazes meet, and we know exactly what to do next. Turning over, I slide myself beneath her as she lifts and then lowers herself onto my face. Her scent and taste envelope me. Drunk with lust, I lap greedily at her dripping cunt. At the same time, she bends over and takes my cock between her lips, licking and coating every inch in drool before sliding it down the tight, humming hollow of her throat. Again, we move as a single being, a two-backed beast of carnal cooperation, moaning and slurping and exultating in mutual, insatiable excess. We cum again and again, revealing pleasures neither of us could possibly experience alone, awareness of our separate bodies tangling and twisting into a single, inseparable cord.

Eventually, we can resist no longer. We separate and rearrange, one face-down and ass raised, the other taking position behind, hands grasping hips and cock kissing cunt. We enter ourselves and feel ourselves clench around each other, sharing the ecstatic revelation, the euphoria of filling and being filled, of push and pull and oh, oh God, oh God, yes, just like that, just…

Like…

THAT.

Too good. Too good.

Fuck. We’ll break.

We’re gonna break. We’re gonna break. We’re gonna break. We’re…

Breaking…

Ah…!

AH!

Ah…

Awareness returns like sunlight bleeding through mist. My eyes gradually open, only to find a yawning darkness above, an abyss so deep it makes my stomach clench with vertigo.

My stomach.

Mine.

Ah. I am one body again. With strong arms to flex and dry lips to lick and a cock gradually softening against my thigh. I lift my torso up from the mattress with a groan, the sound of my voice another anchor drawing me back into myself, reminding me of who I am, where I am.

And who is lying beside me.

I can still feel Diana’s Gift, lingering in the margins of my mind. Just as she can feel me, hovering at the edges of her thoughts. It’s why there’s no need to speak as she stirs, rising from sheets soaked with sweat and sex and the memories of our copulation. Neither of us make a move to fight or flee. There’s no energy left for that; there’s barely enough to reorient, to make sense of what just happened, and what might happen next.

Neither of us know what to say. For a moment, I worry that our psyches may still be entangled, that we may have remained enmeshed for so long, we have forgotten how to communicate as individuals.

01 comes to the rescue, once again. Her whimper snaps my attention to the edge of the bed, where she looks up at me with wide, worried eyes. Just as my heart swells with affection, I sense Diana draw back, her eyes narrowing warily in my pet’s direction.

“Don’t worry,” I assure my guest. “She won’t attack again. Will you, darling?” I stroke 01’s hair, and she happily nuzzles against my touch, relief evaporating the fear from her expression.

“What did you…do to her?” Diana asks, tension audible in her voice. “Were you going to do that…to me?”

I turn, eyebrows raised. “Certainly not. I never intended for any of my slaves to end up like this. It was…an unfortunate error on my part. One I’ve since learned not to repeat.”

“Huh.” Diana shifts an auburn lock from her face, some of the suspicion easing from her expression. “Guess that explains how fucked up her head was. Uh, no offense.”

“None taken.” I pat the bed, inviting 01 to hop up onto the mattress. She does so happily, then begins sniffing around my spent cock, occasionally casting a questioning glance up at me. “Do you mind?” I ask Diana. “It will help her calm down.”

“Uh, go ahead.” She watches with something like bemusement as 01 takes my cock in her mouth, suckling gently with a low, grateful hum. “Does she have a name?”

“She used to. Now we just call her 01.”

“Ah.” Diana arches an eyebrow, then nods towards 13’s unconscious form, still slumped on the floor. “So I’m guessing that’s not actually ‘Julie?’”

“No. Is that what she told you last night?”

“Yeah, right before she drugged my drink.” Diana shrugs nonchalantly, but can’t hide the embarrassment I feel twinge in her chest. “Guess I shoulda been more careful.”

I chuckle. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. 13 is very good at what she does. You’re not the first to fall for her charms.”

“Thanks, but that doesn’t exactly make me feel better.” Diana sighs. “Too bad. I was really looking forward to having some fun with her.”

“That can still be arranged.” I extend my Gift towards the fallen slave, causing Diana to tense. She relaxes when she realizes the mental movement isn’t aimed at her, then watches with fascination as I awaken 13 from her psychically induced slumber.

“Master?” Her long lashes flutter, her eyes bleary and disoriented as she gradually rises from the floor. “What…where are…?” The question dies when she notices the two of us watching, her expression suddenly alight with fear. “Master! That woman—!”

“It’s alright.” I raise a hand for calm. “Ms. Leto and I have come to an understanding. She is no longer a threat.”

13 swallows. “I see. I…” She hesitates, then drops to her knees, trembling with shame as she prostrates herself before me. “I am so sorry Master. I failed you. I threatened the safety of your home and allowed myself to be taken by another. There is no describing the depths of shame I feel.”

I nod, allowing her to simmer in remorse for a moment before speaking. “Your contrition is noted,” I say. “We will see to your punishment at another hour. For now, you are to treat Ms. Leto as an honored guest. And provide to her what you promised last night.”

“Of course!” 13 quickly rises, clearly relieved to have such an immediate shot at redemption. “Mistress Leto—forgive me for being such an impudent, idiotic wretch. Please allow me to serve you properly and fulfill your every desire until you are satisfied.”

Diana looks to me, then 13, then back. “Uh, sure. If that’s…?”

“Please.” I gesture amicably. “Consider it a peace offering.”

“Well…okay.” A devilish smile curls her lips. She turns, draws 13 closer with a single beckoning finger. “Come here slut. You can start by cleaning up his mess.”

“Yes, Mistress.” 13 already seems faint with desire, biting her lip as she crawls between her new sovereign’s legs. “I will obey.”

“Good girl. Oh.” Diana’s back arches, chin tilting towards the ceiling as her slave drinks deep from her overflowing sex. “Goddamn she’s good. Did you—ooh—teach her to do this?”

I smirk, unable to mask my pride. “Some,” I admit, stroking 01’s hair as she continues lazily sucking and tonguing my cock. “But what you’re feeling is probably 15’s influence. Or maybe one of the other girls showed her a few tricks.”

“Other girls?” Diana’s brow furrows slightly, a shudder of pleasure passing through her before she speaks again. “How many of these…mm…little whores do you have running around this place?”

“They aren’t all here presently. But among my numbered staff, 31 and 32 are the latest additions.”

Diana’s bright blue eyes widen. “32?” she repeats, incredulous. “You’re shitting me.”

I chuckle. Her open surprise is almost nostalgic to me. I remember when I was once like her, so convinced of my own power, I couldn’t fathom how little I actually understood. Back then, the idea of maintaining a harem of more than five seemed ludicrous, given how much cognitive effort I needed to keep a paltry pack of three. Ah, the naivete of youth.

“The key is not to rely on your Gift alone,” I explain.

“My what?” Diana asks, puzzled. Apparently, she’s even greener than I thought.

“Your powers of mental domination,” I clarify. “They’re a useful tool, but insufficient to sustaining collections of any notable size. For that, more…varied methods of control are required. Routines, rituals, rewards, punishments, cultural practices, social norms—whatever will make your law a foundational structure in your slaves’ lives. With enough time, it will become so engrained, so fundamental to their identity, that you could be absent for years and return to find your flock just as unquestioningly obedient as when you left.”

My description seems to intrigue and excite Diana, enough that 13 is able to bring her to another shallow, fluttering orgasm. “Mmmmm…” the beautiful journalist sighs. “Sounds like you’ve…ah…been doing this for a while.”

“I have. It’s only thanks to decades of constant, meticulous effort that I am where I am now.” I pause, almost regretting the move I’m about to make, the steel I must force into my gaze and voice. “So when some young upstart steals my pawns and upends years of work,” I growl, “you can imagine how…aggravating that is for me.”

Diana stiffens. Her parted lips abruptly shut. Between our locked gazes, a current of tension crackles, threatening to resurrect our recently buried conflict. In that moment, I know. We both know. Who we are to each other. What has brought us to this point. Why the air around us has suddenly gone cold.

How could I have overlooked this possibility? Perhaps I’m getting sloppy with age. Perhaps I was too blinded by Diana’s beauty to think straight. Whatever the case, it’s clear to me now: in trying to find a proxy to fight Gifted X, I inadvertently invited her into the heart of my fortress. The only lingering question is: will our chance coupling lead to a more amicable outcome? Or…?

“So that’s what this is about,” she says. “You’re the one who claimed the governor.”

“And you’re the one who took him from me.” I stop 01, turning to face my opponent head-on. “Why?”

Diana takes a breath. Nudges 13 away before shifting to meet my gaze. I wait, interested to see what tac she’ll take. She’s all but confessed that she knew the governor’s mind was spoken for, so her theft can’t be dismissed as a simple misunderstanding. But if she confesses that her plan was to lure me out and trap me…well, perhaps it’s a good thing the Code Black is still in effect.

Then again…the longer I watch, the more I begin to doubt my initial assessment. The slight blush in her cheeks, the way her eyes abruptly flick away, the tick of her throat as she swallows…these don’t seem to indicate an imminent declaration of war. Nor an impending surrender. But then…what…?

“I just wanted to meet you,” Diana finally murmurs.

I cock my head slightly. “Come again?”

She lets out a tight groan, palms her eyes before clarifying. “I was just trying to meet you. Not you you, obviously, but someone who was…like me. Gifted, or whatever.”

I blink. Sit back with my arms crossed. My guest looks at me questioningly. I gesture for her to continue.

She sighs. “I only realized I had these powers a few years ago. At first, I thought I was just a freak. Or, like, hallucinating or something. Then, it occurred to me that I might not be the only person who can…do the things I do. So I decided to try and find someone like me, to help figure out just what the hell is going on.”

“And that’s why you became a journalist,” I posit.

“More or less,” she admits. “At least, that’s why I got on the political profiling beat. I figured if I rubbed elbows with enough of the upper-crust, I’d run into one of you eventually. Besides, I was good at it. It’s pretty easy getting a subject to open up when you can literally open their mind.”

“Which is how you discovered the governor was being controlled.”

Diana nods. “It was my first time finding someone who’s head had already been cracked. And it seemed like pretty good work too, from what I could tell.”

“Thank you.” I smile. She may just be flattering me, but I’ll take the compliment either way. “Is it safe to assume, then, that derailing the solar project wasn’t your actual goal?”

She shakes her head. “It just seemed like the quickest way to get your attention. I figured it’d make you panic and come to the capital but…” With a heavy exhale, she flops back onto the mattress. “Guess I was out of my depth, huh? Never thought the guy I was after would find me so fast.” She arches an eyebrow my way. “I made sure to cover my tracks. There shouldn’t have been any way to trace him back to me. So how’d you do it? What’d I miss?”

I hesitate. Apparently, Diana is convinced I kidnapped her fully knowing she was Gifted X. It would be in my best interest not to correct this misapprehension. And yet…for all Diana has done to inconvenience me…for however threatening she may still be…I can’t find it in myself to lie to her. Not right now.

I let out a short, abashed laugh. “To tell you the truth, when I ordered 13 to bring you in, I had no idea you were the Gifted I was looking for. I merely assumed you would be able to help me with the search.”

Diana’s jaw visibly drops. “You’re joking. You mean all of this is just…”

“A coincidence?” I finish. “Yes. Or at least, in part.”

“Fucking hell.” Diana sits with this a moment, watches as 13 and 01 kiss and play while awaiting orders. “I can’t decide if that makes me the luckiest or unluckiest woman in the world.”

“I suppose that will depend on what happens next.” My pointed stare catches her surprised glance. “Now that I’ve revealed myself to you, will you relinquish control of the governor, and allow the solar project to proceed?”

The beautiful woman across from me is silent. She chews her lip, folds her legs. Every movement, every second that passes speeds my pulse another beat. Will we be able to end this conflict here and now? Or has this merely been the prelude to a more prolonged struggle?

“I’ll let the governor go…” she begins carefully. “On one condition.”

My fists tighten. I quickly calculate if I have the strength to subdue her, should it come to that. But…no…neither of our Gifts have recovered enough for another battle. Even if they had, our last clash made it clear she has the potential to do serious damage, despite her sloppy technique. I have no choice but to listen to her demands, and decide whether denying her will be worth the risk.

My voice grinds between grit teeth. “And that condition is…?”

If she senses my animosity, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she looks right at me, her expression open and earnest. “Teach me,” she finally states.

I gape, taken aback. “I’m sorry?”

“Look.” She leans forward, her voice free of any pretensions or guile. “I only did all of this to find someone like me. Someone who, God willing, can help me figure out how this whole ‘Gifted’ thing works. You seem like an expert on the topic so…teach me. Make me your pupil. Show me how to live like you do.”

I take a second to process this. “And in return…” I venture. “You promise to follow my instruction?”

She lets out a short laugh. “Wouldn’t be much point if I didn’t, right? No funny business though,” she adds with a warning look. “I still plan on building an empire of my own, not becoming a part of yours.”

“Of course not.” I dismiss her concern with a wave, still reeling slightly from her proposal. In some ways, it’s a better deal than I could’ve imagined. No negotiating necessary, no risk of losing territory or compromising any of my plans. In return I need only become the mentor of a gorgeous, talented Gifted. It’s not a manner of relationship I’m accustomed to, but it does have a certain appeal. Diana seems to be an able student, and building ties to her now will surely pay off later.

And yet…I feel that fear again, aching like an old wound in my chest. The more I speak with Diana, the more I realize she doesn’t just remind me of myself. When our Gifts intertwined, I felt something familiar, something I haven’t felt in ages. To invite that into my life again, to bring it within reach of my home and my heart…I…

No. I rub my forehead, dispelling the thoughts before they can deter me. There’s no point in dwelling on such things. This will be different. Diana will be my student, and I will be her teacher. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement, too potentially profitable to pass up. I will not abandon it fleeing from shadows. I will not be cowed by ancient ghosts.

I will not let her win again.

“Very well.” I put on a warm smile. “We have a deal.”

Diana stiffens, then lets out a deep, relieved breath. “Thank God.” She collapses onto the bed, stretches luxuriously, as though released from the weight of the world. “Now that that’s settled, can we celebrate over breakfast? I’ve been starving for fucking hours.”

I grimace. “Sadly, you’ll have to wait. The Code Black lockdown is still in effect and will be for some time.”

Diana lurches upright, distraught. “Can’t you just tell your slaves to lift it?”

“Unfortunately, no. The only one who can is a trusted confidant of mine. We will have to wait until he gets here and verifies that my mind hasn’t been compromised. Only then will the manor return to normal.”

Diana takes this in, exhales. “Fuck. So until this friend of yours shows up, we’re stuck in this room?”

“Indeed.”

“In that case…” her eyes wander between my legs. “Maybe there’s another way we can…seal the deal.”

I tense, my cock hardening as her Gift lightly stokes its interest. “Ms. Leto,” I say, moving towards her with a rakish grin. “You read my mind.”