Oversight (The Community Book 2) Page 2

  Except for Six.

  Six had been present at the board meeting, sitting in a chair removed from everyone, and they’d talked about him as if he couldn’t hear them.

  As loyal as Holden had always been to the Comm, it was the first time he’d realized how cutthroat they could be. How they played judge and jury with the lives of Community members regardless of their age. He’d vowed to never get on their bad sides. And he’d ached for the thin teenager with the burning dark eyes who’d sat staring at everyone fiercely. Defiantly.

  That defiance had been almost intoxicating, because Holden had never seen anyone look at his father that way before. He’d wondered how anyone could be so brave, and had gazed at the mysterious, dark-eyed boy as Six was dragged out. They’d only made eye contact for a brief moment after Holden had whispered to his father and asked whether Six would be okay, and whether they could help.

  So weird how that memory was still perfectly etched into Holden’s mind.

  “The kid who robbed CW?” Holden asked skeptically. “The reason why they started sending more ‘challenging’ intakes to the Farm before they advanced further?”

  “Yes.” Richard seemed pleased that Holden’s memory was sound. “After the years he spent working at the Farm, he became an invaluable member of the Community.”

  “Color me skeptical and yet still intrigued.”

  “He’s an invulnerable,” Richard said. “He has a natural mental shield that prevents him from being susceptible to psychic abilities. Due to that, he’s excellent at positions requiring security.”

  “I thought that was a myth,” Holden said, frowning. “Then again I’d also thought psy vampires were a myth, so never mind.”

  Richard pursed his lips, staring flatly, and only went on after determining Holden was done speaking. “Invulnerables are not a myth. They’re rare, but if found, they make excellent guards. We can’t trust every psy who shows up on the CW’s doorstep, and it’s a huge security risk if we let the wrong one in and told them our secrets only to have them be turned against us. An invulnerable security force would safeguard the place against mental and physical attacks, and Six piloted that program. He’ll be an asset to you and this nightclub since you insist on keeping it open.”

  Holden raised a skeptical eyebrow. He could see how having an impenetrable brain guarding the place would be great against a psychic attack, but . . . it just meant they had no idea what their invulnerable guards were thinking. Or whether they were really loyal.

  “Why wouldn’t I keep it open?” he asked. “Queer psychics need safe places too.” Richard just looked at him flatly, and Holden rolled his eyes. “Aren’t you worried he’s untrustworthy?”

  “No. That was nearly fifteen years ago, and he’s moved past it. During his detention and realignment, we realized that due to Six being an invulnerable, it’s difficult for him to empathize with others. He doesn’t feel things the way the average person does, and he doesn’t always make decisions based on an understanding of how other people will react.”

  “So he robbed the organization that took him off the street because he didn’t consider how they’d feel about it? Huh. Sounds like a sociopath to me. Seems like your invulnerable-guard plan may have a flaw.”

  “He’s not a sociopath,” Richard said sharply, giving Holden pause. He’d never seen his father be defensive over another person before. Not even him or Chase. “He has a capacity to feel and understand other people, he just processes things differently because of his internal shield.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  A mental shield so strong it prevented Six from possessing even a normal human’s basic level of empathy. Holden wondered how it worked. Was it possible to turn it off and on? Didn’t sound like it. A talent like that frankly sounded like torture and a permanent roadblock to making lasting interpersonal relationships, although . . . apparently Richard had formed an attachment to Six.

  “What was he doing before coming here to guard the gay club?” Holden asked. “I’m sure it’s his dream job.”

  “He was head of security at the Farm.”

  The guy was going from being head of security at a major Community facility to . . . head of security at an LGBT nightclub. A wave of irritation washed over Holden’s grim amusement.

  “Tell me something, Father. Is your new guy a replacement for Chase, in terms of safeguarding the club, or is he also a replacement for Beck . . . which means he’s monitoring me?”

  The answer came in the form of pursed lips and the distant pump of bass as the DJ finally set up inside the club. The dubstep drops of a pop song’s remix were annoying enough on their own, but somehow the soundtrack was embarrassing with his father standing there. Richard was probably wondering why he’d financed a queer club for psychics that had proved far more trouble than it was worth.

  “I think you know the answer to that, Holden.”

  Holden’s nostrils flared. “Why? Beck caused the disappearances, she killed Theo, and she killed Jericho. She tried to kill me and Chase.”

  “You failed to identify the threat, thereby putting others at risk.”

  “The threat that you put here.” Holden jutted a finger at his father. “With all due respect, Father, I think you’re either beginning to suffer from dementia, or you’re in complete denial about what happened in this club. It was your puppet who harmed our community, and instead of apologizing for putting me and my people in harm’s way, you ship my brother off to who the hell knows where, and you give me another babysitter—a fucking sociopath shield thing.”

  “Holden.” Two syllables had never resembled a thunderclap as much as Holden’s name when his father said it. “Your two biggest flaws are your lack of self-control and your mouth. Learn to control one and you may have less trouble with the other. Until then, I suggest you not presume you’re entitled to an explanation. If you trusted the Community, you wouldn’t be demanding one.”

  “I do trust the Community. But after what happ—”

  “What happened didn’t just happen to you,” Richard said, finally showing the first bits of emotion. His steely-eyed facade cracked, and he moved closer to Holden. “It happened to the entire Community. Seeds of distrust have been sown because you weren’t able to handle the situation with Beck discreetly. Police should not have been called to the scene of Jericho’s death, and after Beck was taken down, you should have only called me and me alone. If you were anyone else, you’d be gone, Holden. Do you understand that?”

  Holden did understand, but he could do nothing but stare. Repeating his father’s accusations verbally would have had no effect, but they ran through his mind.

  He was at fault for not helping to cover up the crimes? For not hiding that a high-ranking Community member had committed them. He had failed the Community by bringing in outsiders? Maybe they thought he was more at fault than Beck in that regard.

  And if they truly believed that, who knew what they thought of Chase, whose purpose had been to identify, evaluate, and eliminate threats from Evolution. Was he at a tribunal somewhere like Six had been so long ago? Had board members determined what his fate would be for failing them, while he sat in a corner with no ability to participate in his fate? Did any of them matter as individuals or did they only matter if they remained dedicated members of the Community?

  “I see,” was all he managed.

  Richard watched him for a moment before nodding. “Six will be starting immediately.”

  “How immediately?”

  Richard indicated one of the monitors. Holden followed the direction of his father’s finger and zeroed in on the camera in the VIP section. He caught only a glimpse of a tall man with ridiculously broad shoulders and huge biceps covered in tattoos before the figure was out of range.

  “Now.”

  The man who walked into the office did not remotely resemble the teen boy who’d just strolled through his memories. Adult Sixtus was slightly taller than Holden and corded with about thirty more pounds of muscle
. His biceps were nearly bursting from his sleeves, and his pecs were clearly visible beneath the too-small black polo he wore, making the typically conservative style look like the prequel to a stripping routine in Magic Mike. He also wore khaki pants so tight his thighs looked like they were being strangled. He’d paired the two articles of clothing with scuffed motorcycle boots with steel toes.

  Holden didn’t make an attempt to hide his slow ogle, and dragged his eyes from boots to crotch to clavicle before taking in Six’s face. His fathomless black eyes were the only familiar feature in that olive-skinned face. He had a full beard and mustache, thick black hair tied up in a bun, and wide lips that Holden wanted to suck on. Why did his sociopathic handler have to be a disgustingly sexy lumberjack hipster?

  “Huh,” Holden said. “He’s filled out.”

  Richard went back to pursing his lips, but Sixtus didn’t even blink. He didn’t scan Holden or react to the intense eye-fuck he’d just received. There seemed to be nothing behind those dark eyes. The effect was more disturbing when Holden, by default, reached out with his gift to get an impression. He’d expected a hint of impatience or irritation even if it was muted by the mental shield that was apparently always in place, but he felt nothing.

  Theo Black had had a powerful mental shield, and Holden had been able to bypass it more often than not. Not with Six, though. All Holden received was a faint shock, as if he’d tried to touch Six’s mind and had been hit with a burst of static electricity.

  Invulnerable indeed. This was going to be unnerving.

  Holden’s irritation reared up again.

  “Do you speak?” he asked. “Or are you just going to stand there and stare at me like a robot?”

  Six looked at Richard. “Did you tell him?”

  “I told him everything,” Richard said. “He’s not used to people not fawning all over him, so it may take him some getting used to.”

  Heat flooded Holden’s face. His hands balled.

  “Fine.” Six moved past Holden, shoulders brushing, and surveyed the wall of cameras. “This is outdated. There shouldn’t be more than one or two terminals that you can use to monitor every camera. Why didn’t you install one?”

  It took a minute for Holden to realize Six was talking to him.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Why haven’t you updated your security system?”

  “What— Wait. Excuse the hell out of me, but you don’t even greet your new employer before going into a criticism of his setup?”

  Six finally turned, one of his thick dark brows arched. “‘Employer’? The Community is my employer. You own this nightclub, and that’s fine, but I don’t work for you.”

  Holden looked from Six to his father, trying to figure out why he was surprised by this turn of events when it was exactly what he’d just deduced moments ago. Six wasn’t stepping into Chase’s shoes—he was taking over for both Chase and Beck.

  “If you have a problem with my security system, I suggest you write up your critique and your suggestions for me to peruse at a later time. I’m not having this conversation here, now, or in front of him,” Holden said, flicking his fingers at his father. “And if you’re here as security, I’d also suggest you get down to the floor and observe my failure of a bouncer. Maybe you can step in for him since you’re an expert. Model what it means to be a good doorman and hope he can copy your technique.”

  Six stared at him for a long moment, gaze not flickering and expression not shifting from the blank mask, before he inclined his head. “Fine. I’ll shadow him until he seems less like an incompetent piece of shit.”

  Holden’s jaw dropped as Six once again brushed past him and strode out the door. He stared through the darkened doorway for several seconds before pointing at his father.

  “You’ve lost your mind.”

  “It will be fine, Holden.”

  “No. No, it won’t. He is insolent—”

  “Insolent?” Richard barked out a laugh. “I just told you he doesn’t perceive emotions the way we do. He never learned to temper his speech and body language to make other people comfortable. He’s better than he used to be.”

  “Well, that’s very special.” Holden couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “I love a good heartwarming story about the wayward psy babies you’ve taken in. But unfortunately for you, this one isn’t going to work out. I won’t have some jackass from the Bronx talking down to me in my own club. Especially in front of my other employees. It creates a confusing chain of command and—”

  “Holden,” his father snapped. “It’s a nightclub, not the government of a small country. If you can’t handle this, it’s no wonder you couldn’t handle the situation with Beck.”

  Holden’s mouth shut with an audible click.

  Richard’s eyes narrowed. “If your concern is that you won’t be able to control or seduce him, you should be worried. It won’t work. It’s part of the reason I chose him.” Richard turned his back on Holden and walked to the door. “I was wrong about what I said before. Your biggest weaknesses are your mouth, your lack of self-control, and your dick. You need one employee who won’t fall for your bullshit, and then maybe you can rise to your full potential and be the leader I know you can be.”

  A thousand disrespectful responses flew to mind, but Holden knew when he could push, and every retort crossed a number of boundaries. Boundaries that would take him beyond the point of being Richard Payne’s sassy gay son to being . . . something else. The type of Community member who showed insubordination to upper-tier members, and who would benefit from a trip to the Farm for “realignment.” It’d happened to Holden a lot in his younger years, but for Richard Payne’s son to go there as an adult would be an embarrassment for them both. An unforgivable one.

  The club filled quickly on Friday nights, and this one was no exception. They were packed by eleven o’clock with a healthy line snaking down the length of the building and toward Ninth Avenue. Once they reached capacity, it was time for the doorman to start cherry-picking people from the line. They went by regular customers and members of the Comm.

  Stefen had always been a complete failure at this aspect of the job. He hated telling people no, even if it meant hearing a rant from Holden when the Comm folk wound up filling message boards with negative reviews because it took so long to get in. To Holden’s royal annoyance, Six was excellent at the job. He handpicked Evo regulars as if he could sense they belonged to the Community. It was impossible, but his precision was uncanny. Through the outdated monitor system, Holden had spent a couple of hours watching his new handler in action. He stood straight, shoulders thrown back and intimidating even in his preppy polo and khaki pants, and he looked at everyone in line as if they meant nothing to him. As if they were nothing until they got into the club.

  Truth be told, it wasn’t that serious. Evolution had an air of exclusivity because they prioritized Comm members, but it’d gained traction with voids as well. The harder it was to get in, the more people showed up, and the more its reputation of being an extremely elite queer club spread. Stefen had briefly put a dent in the rumors of impenetrability, but it seemed like Six would be fixing that in no time. Likely because he, too, was impenetrable.

  And what would it be like to penetrate someone like Six? A stoic man with a mental shield that prevented him from experiencing the world like everyone else. Had he ever walked into a funeral service and wept due to the stench of grief in the room? Laid a comforting hand on the shoulder of a friend in need? Understood that I’m fine usually meant the speaker was anything but? Had he ever felt the heat of someone else’s lust, or did he need a direct I want to fuck you to get a clue? Most people didn’t experience those things on the same level as an empath like Holden, but Six apparently even lacked the ability to pick up on cues that voids could feel.

  Holden forced himself to stop staring at Six and leave his office.

  The bass from the music assaulted him as soon as he was in the hallway. A throb started in his
temple and spread. He brought down his mental shield firmly, not wanting to absorb any extra vibes and make the pain worse.

  Holden respected Richard Payne for founding the Community, but interacting with him was nerve-racking. Holden usually spent the entire conversation waiting to be told what was wrong with him or how he’d most recently failed or let the Community down, while his stomach twisted and churned. The thing was, their relationship wasn’t out of the ordinary for the Community. As a whole, it valued ties to the organization more than biological family.

  Holden’s mother had been different. If it wasn’t for Jessica Payne, he wouldn’t have known relationships with one’s parents could be anything other than tense and distant. Unfortunately, she’d long since gone to live on the Farm away from Richard, and Holden rarely saw her.

  The VIP section was mostly void of customers, except for a couple already kissing in one of the alcoves. Holden made it to the spiral staircase leading to the lower floor without incident, but someone grabbed his upper arm as soon as he descended.

  Even so many months after the night of Jericho’s murder, Holden’s heart caught in his throat. He froze, eyes widening and pulse racing, and was overcome with an instinct to yank away and run. But he didn’t. He took a deep breath, stared straight ahead, and reminded himself that Beck was gone, and Nate and Trent were in hiding. The night of the attack would never be repeated. There was no longer any danger here.

  Evolution was safe.

  “Holden?”

  Holden cleared his throat, blinked away the lingering fear, and turned to face Elijah. Pasting on a smile, he tried to project calmness and authority. Waste of effort. Elijah had clearly been through better times and was unlikely to be worrying about Holden’s state of mind.

  The Dreadnought drummer had always been petite, but he was now perilously thin. His brown skin was pale and circles lined his eyes. Instead of his usual ensemble of short shorts, boots or Chuck Taylors, and a cut-up T-shirt, he was swimming in a hooded sweatshirt and loose jeans.