Page 37 of The Shadows Beyond
The Lumimeld Memory Disrupter project had taken Julien’s team over eight months. The peculiar-looking headpiece harnessed the unique properties of various motes, blending them to create a powerful and targeted memory manipulation effect.
The effectiveness of it varied—particularly if not used immediately after the event that needed to be wiped—but it usually got the job done. In clinical trials, volunteers were often left with migraines lasting manyweeks, but the consortium hadn’t seemed particularly concerned about that side effect.
Eleanor’s attention remained captured by the footage, which she was rewinding to play again.
“Did you see AP’s statement printed in the morning paper?” Julien asked pointlessly. The idea of Eleanor not having access to it before it hit the press was unfathomable.
“Yes,” she said simply.
“And? Do you believe their claim that it was a subgroup gone rogue? That the auditorium was never meant to be damaged?”
A tiny crack fractured Eleanor’s emotionless mask. “Does it matter, when five lives were taken? Even if the majority of AP never intended the result, their name is now tarnished with blood.” Her lips pursed as if tasting something sour. “Even if they originally had good intentions.”
On the screen, the woman’s body was again contorted into an obscene shape before being thrown to the ground. The scream sounded again.
“So, what’s the consortium going to do about it?”
A bark of hollow laughter. “Rest assured, Julien, they will be dealt with. You focus on keeping your head down and your eyes and ears open.”
“Indeed,” said Julien, rising to his feet. “I won’t take up anymore of your time. Thank you in advance for finishing the reference.”
Bracing himself for her to say something else about his parents, Julien was surprised when she only nodded, and said her goodbyes before turning back to replay the video footage.
Julien wandered over to Aurelia Library, mood sombre. Like all moteblessed, the umbraphage threat terrified him. Being powerless to help, he preferred to distance himself from any news of them. However, their presence was getting harder and harder to ignore. How much longer until their existence could no longer be covered up to the general population?
His spirits lowered even further when he discovered their favourite study room was occupied by a group of four people in mid conversation. Someone was sitting in Béatrice’s armchair.
Ignoring their stunned looks, he entered the room anyway, spreading his papers over half of the central table and tapping his pen loudly against the wood.
After a minute, they wordlessly gathered their belongings and filed out of the room, their quick, pointed glances at him as they did so burning holes in his head.
Oh well. He hadn’taskedthem to leave. Although he couldn’t deny it was likely because they knew who he was. Or rather, who hisfatherwas.
Lucien Montaigne.
CEO of HorizonTech Enterprises.
Wealthy and powerful beyond most people’s wildest dreams, but never satisfied.
One of the most influential moteblessed to hold a seat within the consortium, and also the most feared.
Rumoured to have world governments in his pockets.
Julien sighed, the empty room feeling large and lonely without his friends filling it with him. He glanced at the navy-blue Morris chair that Béatrice would never again sit on.
Pull yourself together.
Julien pulled the paper that he’d planned to review yesterday towards himself—the proposal for mote-powered steam engines, aimed initially at the cargo ship production sector. His father was about to invest a large amount of money into the company and wanted his opinion.
A pawn in his game,Eleanor had said. She was wrong. Julien was completely in control of his own actions, his own destiny. It was his choice to read this proposal regardless, to further his own knowledge in the latest motetech developments.
After two hours of being completely absorbed in his task, the bells of St. Caelum’s chimed noon. With haste, he snapped his notebook—now full of his scribbled thoughts—shut, and was ready to leave within moments.
Had he ever been quite so eager to meet his friends for lunch? Probably not. However, today Cinn would be there. He hadn’t been able to get him out of his mind since their conversation in Darcy’s garden, where Cinn had caught him off guard with the depth of his loyalty to his friends. And then, of course, there was the experience of inking his skin, which had become unexpectedly sensual….
Taking massive strides, Julien reached Curio Café Collective in record time, motivated mostly by finding out how Cinn’s meeting with Noir went. Plus, there could be more opportunities to subtly tease him again, and make him blush or bite his lip.
As usual, the large eatery was overcrowded, every table jam-packed. Scanning the room, he spotted Darcy’s mane of auburn curls and Cinn’s grey beanie, despite the sweltering room temperature. God, did the guy ever take it off? He smiled as he took a step—
