Page 19 of Entity

Aware that Ian could return at any minute, I thunder down the stairs as fast as I can go without falling and breaking my neck. My curiosity flits to his mysterious offsite lab emergency, wondering what kind of emergency could possibly require Ian’s help. But as I descend, moving deeper into the belly of Ian De Leon’s stronghold, my thoughts return to the Prototype.

Disobedient.

I shiver with fear and excitement.

What does thatmean, exactly? Is he cruel? Aggressive? Does he force himself on unwilling partners? Does he try to engage them in endless conversation instead of getting straight to the act? I giggle nervously. It echoes through the stairwell, reverberating back to me, a mad little chuckle.

My footsteps echo on the stairs, muffled by my slippers, and for a second, I feel like I’m entering the Underworld, and the Prototype waits for me as Hades himself, the god of this place.

I pause at the bottom of the stairs. The imposing vault door looms before me. The air down here feels heavy with anticipation. Like the whole universe is holding its breath.

My chest tightens. I really shouldn’t be here. I should not have come down here.

A distant, muffled sound catches my ear.

It’s coming from inside the vault door. The noise crawls toward me like a nightmare in slow crescendo. At first, I think it’s the wind. But it’s too deep for that, too guttural. And then I realize it’s a wail. A long, drawn-out, unearthly cry.

I step backward by instinct, every cell in my body telling me to turn and run back upstairs. Back to warm light and a well-stocked bar. I could make another drink and wait for Ian to return. I could leave this place, these sounds, alone. Ishouldforget this.

But I can’t.

The wailing pauses for a second, and then it continues, louder. A low banging rises alongside the wail, metallic and violent.

Something sounds like it’s slamming against one of the doors down here, over and over.

My throat closes up.

But I move forward, step by step, until I’m standing at the vault door.

“Don’t be a pussy, Katherine.” It’s the pep talk I give myself when it’s late, and I’m drunk, and a strange man offers to take me home. When some girl I barely know sells me a bag of unidentified dehydrated fungi. When I see the pendulum about to swing back toward me, but I don’t want to get out of the way. I willingly let the blade eviscerate me, millimeter by millimeter, and I don’t know how much skin and muscle is left before I’ll break wide open, spilling my guts on the floor.

I type in the key code.

The wailing gets louder and louder. The slam of what could be a body against the wall, over and over, over and over.

The door unlocks, and I push it open.

Everything goes silent. The wailing stops. The metallic slamming stops.

I stand on the threshold, my breathing shallow.

“There, see?” I whisper. “All in your head.” Or it was the wind or some strange weather phenomenon. Maybe when I opened the door, it changed the conditions. Maybe it’s the fucking ley lines talking to me.

Either I go through the door, or I don’t.

“Katherine. Suck it up.”

I step through the door.

Even though my heart skitters in my chest, even though there’s a knot in my throat warning me of danger, nothing happens. I’m just standing there, shaking like a deer in headlights, while nothing happens.

My body is lying to me. There’s no reason for all this anxiety. It’s quiet down here. Perfectly safe, like it was earlier when I was here with Ian. And those horrible sounds were just like the shadowy arm in my room: nonexistent.

Time to meet the Prototype.

My thoughts, eager to be distracted, fill with that shadowy shape in the dark room. The elegance of him. I wonder how he’ll look, how he’ll sound. If he’ll let me touch him.

Up ahead, I see Eros’s room. I have the strange urge to go up to the door and press my ear to it. I’m sure he’s back inside. Couldhehave made those sounds? Could he be… broken or upset? What if he wasn’t turned off, and he panicked in the dark? I wonder if Pleasurebots ever feel frightened or confused. IfIwoke up suddenly, locked in a dark room, I would probably scream and pound on the door, too.

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