Page 17 of Asher Black (The Five Syndicates)
“I said I was,” he admits. “But not anymore.”
“Not anymore,” I parrot, disbelief coloring my words. “And why the Hell not?”
Gosh, I’m stupid. I didn’t just say that. It’s like looking a gift horse in the face and spitting on it. And stomping on its toes and throwing ‘yo mama jokes its way.
Why can’t I be mute?
“Let’s go somewhere private,” he says.
It’s then that I notice we have the attention of everyone. Even Dr. Lance. They may not know or care about Asher’s mafia connections, but drama is still drama, and these boys look hooked on ours. I’m glad that we were whispering.
I nod to him. Asher would take my hand and drag me away if I say no anyways. I might as well go of my own volition. We leave Sproul, and Asher tugs on my hand, pulling me into another building and hallway I didn’t even know exists.
I’m led into an elevator, where there’s a sudden and quick flash of light that startles me. He steadies me when I jump back, and I let him because I’m too stunned to stop him. Then, we’re headed downward. The elevator opens up into the basement of the building.
It should be scary—I’m in a basement with a killer, a classic setup to just about every horror movie—but I’m way too fascinated to register the threat. The basement is a giant secret lab I’ve never seen on any Wilton map or directory.
And it’s perfection.
I even pass a state of the art centrifuge that’s nicer than the expensive ones stocked in the genomics building. This is incredible. It’s better than Tumblr porn.
Don’t even think about it, Horny Lucy.
I can’t help but ask, “How do you know about this place?”
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
His sharp tone snaps me out of my awed reverie. I pause abruptly at the sound of it, then continue looking around, using my wonder as a stalling tactic. I search for exits, pretending that I’m continuing my visual exploration of the lab.
Asher’s perceptive eyes narrow at my theatrics, and I suspect he knows what I’m doing. I still pretend that I’m exploring the place anyways. He surprisingly lets me.
There’s a door to a stairwell, but it has an ID scanner next to it. I doubt I have access to it, and my student identification card is in my wallet, which is in the backpack Asher is still holding, anyways. The only other exit is the elevator, which is already on the third floor.
If I want to get in, I’ll have to wait for it to come back down to the basement. Plus, the flash in the elevator earlier was probably some crazy security measure, like a biometric scanner or something. I can’t know for sure, but I’m not about to take the risk.
Which means I’m trapped.
The look on Asher’s face tells me he knows that. That’s probably why he took me down here in the first place. How he even knows this place exists, I don’t know, but that’s a mystery for another time, even though it’s killing me not to prod. If I even live past the next few minutes. Now that I think about it, this is the perfect place to kill me—secret, isolated, and full of chemicals.
Done with my perusal, I don’t say anything, waiting for Asher to talk.
“You’re different than I thought you’d be.”
My eyes shoot to his in confused interest. “What’d you think I’d be like?”
“I thought you were a plant. A spy for one of the families. Maybe even a corporate spy, a honey pot to steal secrets. Someone with an agenda at least. But you’re not, are you?”
My eyes widen. He thought I was a spy? For one of the five families? The idea is so ridiculous that I have to laugh.
“You thought I was a spy?”
I’m not even going to touch the honey pot comment.
… Because, seriously? Me? A honey pot?
If I was a honey pot, he wouldn’t have ditched me pre-orgasm…
Must not think about it.
