Page 10 of The Brotherhood

She wanted to help him but didn’t know how other than to pretend she didn’t notice. He was seeing too much, and it was difficult not to be alarmed at what else he might be seeing. She was strictly careful to hide how cute she thought he was. But then all the girls thought this, and he was used to it. Surely.

And not only did he not look directly at her, but there was also more space between them at all times. As if proximity overwhelmed him—or she did.

It made her job harder. Observation had always been her way of learning with him. Watching him had been a study in control. Every movement, every glance, every breath—he was a masterclass in precision. And now, when she did dare to look, it was like observing a predator in a cage. The way his body moved—it wasn’t restless, exactly, but there was energy beneath the surface, coiled and ready. His hands, always deliberate, fidgeted now in small, almost imperceptible ways. The faintest tap of athumb against his palm. Little tells that she wasn’t sure anyone else noticed, but she did.

And his voice was different, too. Deeper, rougher. Like he had to force the words, even when they were quiet. And when his eyes did happen to land on her, they were more intense than ever, as if he was cataloging everything about her in a single glance. But they never stayed. He always looked away, his jaw tightening like he’d seen something he wasn’t supposed to.

She didn’t know what to make of it. She knew she shouldn’t take it personally. Whatever was happening to him was bigger than her, bigger than any of them. But it still stung. She’d spent six years learning from him, studying him, relying on his sharp gaze and unflinching feedback to guide her. And now, when she needed that guidance most, he was a shifting, impenetrable wall.

And whatever reason she was there, had all his symptoms turned way up and that had her squirming in every manner of emotion she possessed, with dread leading that awful parade.

Her heart suddenly froze in her chest.

Was it her family?

Had something happened?

He sucked in a slow breath and the direct assault of his gaze squeezed the air from her lungs.

“Is it my family?” she blurted, her mouth bone dry.

His brows sharpened. “No,” he hurried. “I apologize for…” His gaze fell from hers before locking right back on. “I have a proposition for you.”

Her gifts opened wide, immediately getting a clash of information. “Okay,” she said, fighting not to push him or fall into a negative guessing game about it. “I’m happy to help however I can,” she reminded him.

He gave a hesitant nod of what appeared to be regret, further confusing her. He leaned against the edge of his largedesk, hands gripping the polished wood. “There is a situation with a member of the Quantum Kings,” he began very quietly.

She watched him closely, jolting when his gaze nailed her to her seat. It was troubled, she realized. “The details are… complicated and a bit urgent.”

She forced herself to relax when her spine began to burn. “Should I take notes?” she offered evenly, fighting to hold herself together.

“No,” he said roughly, his gaze again pensive and trained on her. “I don’t like asking this of you but you’re the only one qualified. A perfect match, I’m sorry to say.”

Match? Match for what? Sorry for what?

“I trust your judgment,” she said, only to see it added to his distress which added to hers. Her breath hitched again. Was this about the soldier program she’d heard about with the Quantum King? But they had those poor nuns for that, and a lot of them.

“I’ll attempt to explain this as best I can. You’re familiar with the… soldier creating program he has.”

She nodded, her guts instantly knotting at that question. “With the nuns?”

“Yes.”

The closer he got to spilling the beans, the more difficulty he had. He paced again and she only watched him with her peripheral vision, giving him as much space as possible in hopes it would allow him to hurry.

He paused his steps suddenly and turned to her. “He’s not quite the same as a soldier but he’s similar. His name is Handy and he’s… he shares a body with another type of... bio-synth.”

Shared a body? “So, he was... once human?” Ever since their new neighbors arrived, everybody had been dying to know more details about them.

“Sort of,” he said, his disdain and tension both growing. “His humanity side comes from the minds of several highly gifted individuals that were involved in a government program dealing with cerebral and somatic merging.” He glanced at her, annoyed with the details, it seemed while feeling required to give them. “They were attempting to fuse minds and bodies into a singular entity designed for ultimate efficiency and power.”

“Oh my,” she breathed, fascinated, despite his angry explanation. “And this… Handy is one of those men?”

An almost bitter chuckle escaped him as his head shook. “He’s actually all of them and yet only started out as a hand, hence his name,” he muttered, his open disgust requiring Poppy to rein in her fascination with his unusual display of such an extreme emotion. “The doctor overseeing the project helped these men escape this… government malfeasance. He wiped the host’s memories and dropped him off in the city where his biological brother lived and would hopefully find him. He roamed around for several years thinking himself demon possessed, not remembering why there were so many voices in his head. But the one gifted to synchronize their talents was put only into the hand of the host. It was a tether so that when it was safe, they would be able to find the host and return the men to their bodies which were preserved in cryonics.”

Oh my. “So… they were all returned to their original bodies?”

“Yes. But the piece of the one known as Sync that was inside the host had grown into its very own entity made up of all the men within the vessel.” He eyed her now. “You may not find it quite as fascinating when I tell you why I’ve asked you here.”

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