“That’s what I’m thinking.”
A flutter behind my breastbone tempted me with hope. “Does that mean…?”
“No.” He leaned more heavily into me. “He can’t release me from service.”
“This was more like the director adding users to his Netflix account than handing out his password,” Colby explained as she joined us.
“That actually made sense.” I shot Colby a grin. “I’m getting better at tech speak.”
Head down, she got real quiet, real fast.
“You pre dumbed it down for me, didn’t you?”
“Maybe.” She sandwiched two fuzzy hands together. “A tiny bit.”
The flare of amusement I felt for her shenanigans grew cold in the face of reality. “What should I do?”
Clay knew me well enough to know what I was asking him.
“You should visit the director at the compound, give your report in person, and assess his condition.” Clay’s jaw bulged as he ground his teeth. “That might earn you, and Samford, leniency.”
Admit Dad killed Parish or confess I did. Neither were great options.
With cleaners swarming the place, I wasn’t sure I could take the blame even if I wanted to when their findings might thwart any attempt I made to shield Dad from exposure to the masses.
“He’s not sentimental.” I considered his proposal. “He’ll want a detailed rundown of events.”
“He won’t kill you,” Asa said quietly, joining our huddle. “As long as your father is alive, the director needs leverage to bring him to heel, and your mother’s bones are lost.” He stared out at the night. “He could cage you, Rue. Bait to lure Hiram right where he wants him. If you walk into the compound, you might not walk out again.”
“Samford is safer with me in a cage,” I confessed, throat tight. “The girls would be too.”
“There’s another option,” Colby said softly. “I don’t know if you’ll go for it.”
“I’m open to suggestions.” I leaned back. “What’s on your mind?”
“What if we join your dad’s resistance?” She twitched her antennae. “He said no before, but now…”
“The director can’t afford not to punish someone.” Asa knew it as well as I did. “He won’t out your father except as a last resort.”
To admit his son, who had challenged his authority before, was not only alive but an active participant in this latest resistance would torpedo his reputation. Add to that my disappearance for ten years then my triumphant return, minus the public spectacle, and agents would decide he was growing weak.
And that was before news of his attack leaked, which it would, and Parish’s death hit the grapevine.
“If I run again, he goes after Samford.” I shut my eyes. “I can’t have that on my conscience.”
“What if we put protections in place?” Clay rubbed his naked scalp. “We could hire mercenaries.”
“I’m sorry, but what?” I whipped my head toward him. “Mercenaries?”
“You can’t trust mercenaries,” Colby informed us. “They’ll always work for the highest bidder.”
“I agree.” That it was game-based logic didn’t change it was real-world applicable. “No mercenaries.”
“I have an alternative.” Asa’s head fell back. “Father gifted me a centuria for my thirteenth birthday.”
“Command of a centuria?” Clay watched him. “Or slaves?”
“Slaves.” Asa let me see what the admission cost him in front of Clay. “Families seeking his favor tithed him their firstborn child on the day I was born. Those children were trained as legionaries from my birth to be loyal to me. They were meant to be the core of my royal guards when I ascended to the throne of the high king.”