Personal Demon (Otherworld 8)

"No need. It was a necessary maneuver. They will hound you for an answer until you give one and this will buy you the time you need to decide on an alternative course of action."

Silence. I didn't look at him. Couldn't.

"Paige does want to see you," he said after a minute. "But she's in the lab right now. As we head down, I'd like us to make a few stops. Just walk the floors. Let people see us. Reassure them."

I could scarcely afford the time, but I knew it was necessary. So I let him lead the way.

IT TOOK ALMOST an hour for us to complete the "rounds"...and that was with my father pressing forward as firmly but politely as possible. We finished in the cafeteria, where he insisted on buying lunch for me to take to Paige. That took another ten minutes, mostly dealing with more condolences, but he finally got through everyone and took me up the stairs to the executive dining room. It was empty. Not surprising. My father made it clear that he preferred the executives to dine with the employees, and few dared be caught doing otherwise.

"I really have to--" I began.

"Go. I know." He stopped at the window overlooking the cafeteria. "How many people does this office employ, Lucas?"

"Two hundred and forty-five, at last quarterly report."

"And the corporation? Excluding the sectors staffed by humans."

"Approximately four hundred and fifty."

"You know those figures without a second's pause, don't you?"

"I make it my business to know."

A slow nod. "Four hundred and fifty oppressed souls in need of rescue."

My jaw tightened. "Did you bring me up here to mock me, Father? Because I have--"

"--more important things to do."

I forced myself to look at him. "I don't see four hundred and fifty oppressed souls in need of rescue, but you know that. I see four hundred and fifty supernaturals employed by an organization that does not always have their best interests in mind."

"Because human corporations do," he murmured.

"Human corporations don't hunt down and execute former employees. Or torture those accused of corporate espionage. Or threaten the families of those suspected of espionage. Or use blackmail as a recruiting tool. Or--"

He held up a hand. "Point taken."

"Did I really need to make it?"

For a moment, he gazed out the window, watching his employees eat and talk.

"Of the Cabals, how do the Cortezes rank? In terms of 'human rights abuses'?"

"I won't answer that because you know the answer full well. To commend your standing is like praising a man who only beats his wife on Sundays."

"If this Cabal collapsed, where do you think these people would go? They're caged birds, Lucas. You don't just open the door and set them free. That would be a cruelty beyond anything you accuse us of. If the Cortez Cabal disappears, they will fly to the nearest place of shelter, to another Cabal, a worse--"

"Don't." The tray's edge dug into my thumb, and I realized I was still holding it--clutching it--and set it down. "This isn't the time--"

"No, it isn't. But it will soon be the time--"

"Carlos is alive--and probably innocent. Then there are my cousins..." I heard the desperation in my voice and cleared my throat. "There will be no need for you to make any determination for years to come."

"No? If the last few days have proven anything, it's that I don't have that time. We are going to need to talk about this."

I turned to him. "Please, Papa. Not now."

"When, Lucas? Tell me when I have to do this to you? Shatter your dreams? Make you become someone you should never have to be? Tell you it's your duty?" His voice caught. "When do I do this? Gain my heir and lose my son?"