The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Phoebe

07/26/2025

The gravel crunched under my tires as I pulled into the clearing, parking next to a scattered collection of vehicles—a mix of trucks, sedans, and one very nice vintage Land Rover that probably belonged to Rowan. Gabriel’s house rose up beyond them, a beautiful old two-story place with a wraparound porch, nestled perfectly in the pines. The afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting everything in that golden light that made summer feel eternal.

I glanced over at Wallace. He was gripping the armrest like it might fly away, his jaw tight, his eyes fixed on the house like he was staring down a firing squad.

“Hey,” I said, reaching over and taking his hand. My touch was gentle but firm, the way I’d learned he responded to. “It’s going to be fine.”

I was starting to understand how Wallace worked. He was indecisive, needed someone to give him that push to take what he wanted. He was still processing everything: the claiming, the sex, the moral implications, and I couldn’t have that. I was too happy. Too fucking relieved to be owned again, to have that sense of purpose humming through me like electricity. And I wanted him happy. God I would do anything for him to be happy. He wouldn’t be if he kept denying himself, kept drowning in guilt over something that made us both feel this good.

I was nervous too, but not in the same way. My nervousness was the good kind, the excited, eager, problem-solving kind. I had a plan. A way to give him so much. And if it worked…

“Are you sure about this?” Wallace asked, his voice strained. “About what we’re doing?”

“I’m sure. We have two opportunities here,” I said, leaning over and kissing him. His lips were warm, familiar after this morning. He melted into it for a moment, his hand coming up to cup my jaw, before he broke away and glanced around nervously, like someone might be watching through the trees.

“Relax,” I told him, squeezing his hand. “You’re already my plus one to this thing. Everyone’s going to assume we’re getting close. Maybe more. It’s not weird.”

He nodded, but he still looked like he wanted to bolt. His discomfort was painful to me, but we were doing this for long term satisfaction. It was worth some short term sacrifices.

We got out of the car just as another vehicle pulled up: a beat-up Ford truck that I recognized immediately. Cedric climbed out, looking a hell of a lot better than the last time I’d seen him. Less haunted. More like the guy I remembered from before everything went to shit. Olivia hopped out of the passenger side, brushing her hair out of her face.

“Phoebe!” Cedric called out, grinning as he walked over. “Good to see you.”

“You too,” I said warmly, pulling him into a quick hug. “How’ve you been?”

“Busy,” he said, stepping back. “I’m in charge of a bunch of building repairs now, some new construction projects. Keeping me sane, honestly. You?”

“The dam,” I said. “We’ve got it producing power again, and we’re close to getting Chantwell back on the grid. Another week, maybe two.”

“That’s great,” Cedric said, genuine pride in his voice. “We could use some extra power!”

“Hey, Phoebe,” Olivia added, giving me a small wave. She looked good too, innocent, shy. The typical teenage girl.

“Hey, Olivia,” I said, then turned slightly toward Wallace, who was hovering awkwardly behind me. “This is Wallace Irvin. He’s been helping me with the electrical grid restoration. Wallace, this is Cedric Appleton and his daughter, Olivia.”

I took Wallace’s arm, holding it in a way that was just possessive enough to be noticeable, and gave him a teasing smile. “He’s nervous about meeting everyone. Cute dork.”

Cedric smirked, catching my eye with a look that said, Good for you, without saying a word out loud.

“Nice to meet you,” Wallace managed, shaking Cedric’s hand and giving Olivia a polite nod.

We started walking toward the house together, the sound of voices and laughter drifting from the backyard. The smell of grilling meat hit me. Actual meat, not the reconstituted shit we’d been eating for months. My stomach growled.

“Haven’t seen Gabriel in a couple months,” Cedric said, his tone carefully neutral. “He’s been keeping to himself.”

I glanced at him, keeping my voice casual. “Is there still bad blood between you two?”

Cedric shrugged. “Not really. I mean, things are complicated, but… Gabriel needed space. To process everything. I think it’s good he’s inviting everyone here. Maybe he’s done processing, you know? Ready to open up again.”

“Yeah,” I said, though most of my attention was already on the plan forming in my head. “Maybe.”

We rounded the corner of the house, and the backyard opened up before us, people scattered across the lawn, a grill smoking away on the patio, the sound of Elaine’s laugh cutting through the air.

The backyard was gorgeous: a wide stretch of lawn bordered by pines, a stone patio with a fancy grill, and a long wooden table set up with chairs and mismatched plates. String lights had been hung between the trees, currently off but ready for when the sun went down.

Gabriel stood near the grill, spatula in hand, focused on the meat sizzling away. He was thinner than I remembered, his face a bit more weathered, but he looked… peaceful, maybe?

Elaine and Lenore were sitting at the table with Imani and Alva, all four of them laughing about something. As we got closer, I caught the tail end of Ramona’s dry comment about mayoral debates and voter turnout, which apparently was the punchline because they all burst out laughing again. Ramona, fucking Ramona, was sitting there with an actual smile on her face, looking almost human.

Over in the corner, Warda stood with Rowan and one of his claimed women: Major Vance. The prize, I thought, keeping my expression neutral even as my mind catalogued every detail. Vance was tall, probably five-ten, with broad shoulders and a military bearing that hadn’t softened even slightly despite months of civilian life. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a tight bun, her sharp blue eyes scanning the yard with the kind of vigilance that never really turned off. She was sexy in a stern, intimidating way: the kind of woman who could probably snap your neck and look good doing it. She stood close to Rowan, her posture guarded, loyal.

Rowan himself was his usual gruff self, beard neatly trimmed, flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows. He looked comfortable, at ease, but there was still that edge of watchfulness about him. He’d claimed Vance and the other Source soldiers after they’d escorted us back to Echelon, women whose programming was different enough that the freeing signal hadn’t worked on them. They were still vulnerable, still claimable, and they’d chosen Rowan because he was trustworthy. And gay. Which meant he wasn’t going to use them for anything beyond protection and companionship.

People started noticing us as we approached. Elaine spotted us first and waved enthusiastically, bouncing up from her seat.

“Phoebe!” she called out, grinning wide. “You made it!”

Lenore was right behind her, both of them practically radiating happiness. They looked good together, really good. Newlywed glow and all that. They’d be even happier claimed, I thought, smirking. Maybe in time.

“Hey!” I said, returning Elaine’s hug. Lenore squeezed me next, both of them warm and bubbly.

Warda came over next, nodding at me with that cordial professionalism she always had. “Phoebe. Good to see you.”

“You too,” I said. She turned to Cedric, and her expression softened just a fraction. “Cedric.”

“Warda,” he replied with genuine warmth.

Ramona approached more slowly, her face settling into that neutral mask she wore so well, though there was a hint of complicity in her eyes when she looked at me. “Phoebe. You’re looking well today.”

I was, wasn’t I? I was happy, finally slept, finally had a fucking purpose, and it showed. I had to make sure it wasn’t suspicious. I looked at Wallace, then back at Ramona, winking.

She snorted, but made no comment.

Rowan gave me a polite nod from where he stood, but didn’t come closer. Vance stayed right next to him, her eyes flicking over me and Wallace with that assessing look soldiers had. Not hostile, just… evaluating.

Gabriel waved from the grill, smiling. “Hey, Phoebe! Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” I called back.

Then I felt Wallace shift beside me, and when I glanced at him, I realized he was staring, not subtly, in Vance’s direction. His eyes were lingering on her in a way that was way too obvious, taking in the curves under her tactical pants, the strength in her shoulders.

I squeezed his arm, maybe a bit harder than necessary. “Wallace,” I said pointedly, pulling his attention back to me. “Let me introduce you to everyone.”

He blinked, refocusing, and I gestured around. “This is Elaine and Lenore. They worked on the freeing program with me. Imani and Alva, both from Echelon. Ramona, who you’ve met briefly, I believe. Warda, head of security. And Rowan, with Major Vance.”

Wallace nodded awkwardly at each of them, managing a strained smile. “Nice to meet you all. Or, uh, see you again.”

There was a beat of surprise as people registered that I’d brought someone. Imani raised her eyebrows, glancing between us with a knowing smirk. Alva looked curious but polite.

Elaine and Lenore, however, were not subtle at all.

“Oh my God,” Elaine said, her grin widening. “Phoebe, are you two…?”

“Don’t start,” I warned, but I was smiling despite myself.

“You are!” Lenore laughed, delighted. “Look at you, bringing a date to the barbecue.”

“He’s my plus one,” I said, keeping my tone light. “We’ve been working together on the dam project.”

“Uh-huh,” Elaine said, “Just working together. Sure.”

Wallace looked like he wanted to disappear into the ground, blushing furiously, looking far too guilty for what we were supposed to be selling here. I hoped people would just assume it was shyness.

Cedric, meanwhile, had made his way over to Gabriel. The two of them stood there for a moment, hesitating, before going in for an awkward hug that turned into a back-slapping thing that men did when they didn’t know how to express emotion properly.

“Good to see you, man,” Gabriel said, and he sounded like he meant it.

“Yeah, you too,” Cedric replied, stepping back and looking around the yard. His expression shifted slightly, became more guarded. “Wendy’s not here?”

Gabriel’s smile faltered for just a second. “She’ll be here shortly. She’s bringing dessert.”

They exchanged a few more words, their voices dropping too low for me to hear, but I could see the tension in both their postures.

I forced myself to look away, to focus on the task at hand. Wallace was still too tense, too nervous, and I needed him confident if this was going to work.

“Come on,” I said quietly, tugging his arm. “Let’s get a drink.”

We settled around the table, Olivia, Warda, Vance, and Rowan joining us as Cedric helped Gabriel by hauling over a cooler full of drinks. Gabriel wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, looking exhausted but content.

“Can’t wait for you to get power restored,” he said, glancing at me. “The back and forth between here and Echelon for basic necessities is getting old fast.”

“Tell me about it,” Lenore chimed in, accepting a beer from Cedric with a grateful nod. “Even if candles are romantic, there’s only so many you can find and use before you run out. We’ve been rationing our stash.”

Elaine laughed, leaning into her wife. “Yeah, romantic gets old when you’re trying to read schematics by candlelight without setting your notes on fire.”

Ramona raised an eyebrow. “You both could have remained at Echelon.”

“Too crowded now,” Lenore said, waving her hand dismissively. “We need our privacy.”

“Olivia,” Alva repeated, her tone dripping with innuendo. “Is that what you’re calling it?”

The table erupted in laughter, Elaine turning bright red while Lenore just grinned and shrugged unapologetically.

Imani, sitting across from Gabriel, waited for the noise to die down before asking, more quietly, “How are things going with Wendy?”

Gabriel’s expression shifted, became more guarded. “It’s okay,” he said, not quite meeting her eyes. “I just needed some space, that’s all. She understands.”

I watched him, amused by my own thoughts. A day ago, I would’ve felt sympathy. I would’ve understood his pain, his need to process the guilt and trauma of what he’d done. Now? Now I didn’t even understand why anyone would be dumb enough to reject the gift of the Source in the first place.

Men had the women they wanted. Women were completely fine with it. More than fine, actually. We were fucking ecstatic about it. I was fucking ecstatic about it.

Freedom is overrated, I thought, knowing full well I wasn’t objective and not caring one bit. What good was being objective if it made life so shitty?

I glanced at him beside me. He was listening to the conversation, trying to act normal, but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes kept drifting toward Vance when he thought no one was watching.

Even thinking about Smith didn’t sting as much as it used to. Yeah, the guy had been a total freak. But serving him? Serving my owner? Why the hell had I rejected that? How could my free self not see how right it felt to belong to someone?

“So how’d you find this place anyway?” Warda asked Gabriel, pulling me out of my thoughts. “It’s not like the real estate market is exactly operating these days.”

Gabriel shrugged, flipping a burger on the grill. “I just moved in. Place has been empty since Claim Day, far as I can tell. No one’s come back for it. If the owners show up, I’ll move out, but until then…” He gestured around. “Seemed like a waste to leave it sitting here. Wendy kept our house, I took some time here.”

Ramona frowned slightly, her mayor-brain clearly kicking in. “This is on the list of issues we need to address. We need to catalogue properties, determine who’s where, attempt to contact owners, and establish protocols to prevent theft.”

“Yes, ma’am Mayor,” Gabriel said with a small smirk. “I’ve been a bad boy.”

“I’m not mayor yet,” Ramona corrected, though her tone was dry rather than annoyed.

Warda leaned back in her chair. “I heard you’re the favorite in that race. By a lot.”

“There isn’t much competition,” Ramona said flatly.

Everyone chuckle. Imani chimed in, “What about that guy—what’s his name? Tim something? He’s running against you.”

“Tim Kowalski,” Alva supplied.

“He’s a joke,” Cedric said, shaking his head. “No one takes him seriously. He’s parroting your own selling points and hoping he’ll have a better shot because he’s a man.”

“I don’t think he realizes that it’s not going to help, nowadays...” Lenore snorted.

Ramona didn’t comment, but I caught the small smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

I let my gaze drift back toward Vance, just for a moment. She was sitting close to Rowan, attentive, alert. I needed her away from him. Just for a moment. Just long enough.

“Jesus, Mr. Irvin, aren’t you hot in that coat?” Alva asked suddenly, eyeing him with concern.

I tensed. Wallace was wearing a light jacket despite the summer heat, and yeah, he was sweating. Noticeably.

“Mother!” Imani laughed. All of Gabriel’s girls called Alva ‘mother’, for some reason. Inside joke from their time claimed, I imagined. “Leave the poor man alone.”

“I can take that for you if you want,” Cedric offered, already starting to stand.

“No!” Wallace said quickly, too quickly, his hand going to the jacket. “I’m fine. I like having an extra layer.”

Everyone stared at him.

I forced a laugh, squeezing his knee under the table. “He’s always like this. Some weird circulation thing, right babe? Gets cold easily even when it’s hot out.”

Wallace nodded frantically. “Yeah. Circulation. That’s it.”

Wendy arrived just as Gabriel was pulling the first batch of meat off the grill. She looked elegant despite everything, wearing a simple sundress that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe, her auburn hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. But there was awkwardness in the way she approached Gabriel, in the way they shared a chaste kiss that felt more obligatory than intimate.

Gabriel was the more uncomfortable one, I noticed. Wendy seemed uneasy because he was uneasy, like she was trying to figure out how to act around him and kept getting it wrong.

She set a container on the table. “Brought dessert,” she announced with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hope everyone likes brownies.”

“You made brownies?” Elaine asked, delighted.

“From an old mix I found in my pantry, but yes.”

She sat down next to Gabriel, who immediately busied himself with serving food. Wendy looked around the table, greeting everyone warmly before launching into an explanation about how she’d been trying to get the museum back on track.

“Fortunately, it wasn’t pillaged too badly,” she said. “Mostly just people who broke in looking for food and emptied what little we had there. The art’s intact, at least.”

The barbecue continued. People ate, laughed, debated the merits of solar versus wind power, made jokes about Ramona’s mayoral campaign. It was nice, actually. Normal. The kind of gathering that felt like the world was healing. The kind of gathering that might have done me good a day ago. Not as good as serving my owner now, obviously.

But I wasn’t really paying attention to much of it.

My focus kept drifting to Vance. She stayed close to Rowan, attentive, never straying far, even when he stepped away to serve himself some tomatoes Elaine and Lenore had brought from their garden. I watched her through the corner of my eye, waiting for an opening. A bathroom break, a moment alone, anything.

Nothing.

The main priority today had been introducing Wallace as my boyfriend, establishing our relationship so no one would be suspicious when we spent more time together. Check that box. But claiming Vance would be a bonus, someone at Rowan’s place, someone who could help us get to the other soldiers eventually. Before we’d miss the window of opportunity.

If not today, then some other time, but it had to be soon.

But Wallace was getting more nervous as the afternoon wore on. I could see people starting to notice: the way he shifted in his seat, the way he kept adjusting his jacket despite the heat, the occasional guilty glances toward Vance that lasted a fraction too long.

Imani kept giving him curious looks. Ramona’s eyes lingered on him with that analytical assessment she did. Even Cedric seemed slightly puzzled by his behavior.

Not good. I didn’t want anyone wondering why I was dating this awkward, sweaty mess of a man. He was my center, my universe, but I knew the others didn’t see him that way.

I needed to be bold.

I watched Vance take another sip of her beer, the condensation dripping down the bottle. She nodded subtly at something Rowan said, drink still in hand.

I stood up.

“Bathroom,” I announced casually, excusing myself.

I walked behind Vance’s chair, deliberately angling my path too close, and then—

“Oh shit!” I stumbled, my hand shooting out to catch myself on the back of her chair, and in the process knocked her beer bottle directly into her lap.

Half the contents spilled across her tactical pants, soaking her thighs.

It was stupid. Such an obvious trope. But maybe…

Vance groaned, standing abruptly and staring down at the mess. “Goddammit.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” I said, my voice pitched high with false distress. “I’m such an idiot, I—”

The others were laughing, not meanly, just the kind of laughter that comes from watching someone have a minor disaster at a party.

I glanced at Wallace. His face was red, his eyes locked on Vance with an intensity that made my stomach flutter with anticipation.

Do it, I thought. If she steps away, do what needs to be done.

The Major sighed, brushing ineffectually at her soaked pants.

“Hey, Vance,” Gabriel called after her. “There are clothes upstairs. The couple who lived here left a bunch of stuff. Second door on the right. You might find something that fits.”

He started to rise, clearly intending to show her the way, but I jumped in.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said quickly. “It’s your party, you shouldn’t have to leave. Wallace and I can find them for you if you tell us where it is. It’s the least I can do after making a mess.”

Vance waved us off. “I can find it myself. It’s fine.”

“No, seriously,” I insisted, moving closer to her with my most apologetic smile. “I feel terrible. Let me help fix my own mess.”

Vance looked at me for a long moment, clearly weighing whether it was worth arguing, then sighed. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Second bedroom on the right, second floor,” Gabriel offered as we passed.

Vance headed toward the house, and Wallace and I followed.

Behind us, I could hear the others still laughing, the conversation already moving on to something else.

Gabriel’s borrowed house was beautiful inside: hardwood floors, exposed beams, comfortable furniture that spoke of someone who’d cared about the place before everything went to shit. We climbed the stairs, Vance leading, and entered the second bedroom on the right.

It was clearly the master bedroom: queen bed with a floral comforter, dresser, closet with sliding doors.

I caught Wallace’s eye and gave him a subtle nod before moving toward the closet. “Let me see what we’ve got here,” I said brightly, sliding the door open and making a show of sorting through hangers.

Vance stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed, watching me with a military patience that somehow managed to convey some impatience.

I found a few pairs of jeans, some t-shirts. “Here,” I said, pulling out options. “These might work. What size are you?”

While Vance moved toward the clothes, I stepped further away, positioning myself near the far wall. Wallace fumbled with his jacket, his hands shaking as he pulled the pocket VLF transmitter from the inside pocket. I could see him struggling with it, his fingers clumsy on the small screen, trying to select the unclaiming program.

Wallace was too far away from her, though. He was standing near the door, a good eight or nine feet from where Vance was examining the jeans. He needed to move closer, but before I could gesture to him—

Beep.

Fuck.

Vance’s head snapped up, her military training kicking in instantly. She didn’t freeze. She didn’t go blank. She just stared at Wallace, at the device in his hand, and her expression shifted from confusion to understanding to alarm in the span of a heartbeat.

“What the—”

She bolted toward the door.

I threw myself in front of her, hands up. “Stop! Don’t!”

She grabbed my shoulders, trying to shove me aside, but I planted my feet. “The program’s running!”

Vance froze, her hands still gripping my arms, her eyes wide. She knew exactly what that meant. She’d worked for the Source long enough to understand the tech. If she moved in range now, she’d risk being turned into a vegetable.

“Wallace, restart it!” I shouted. “Move closer!”

But Vance was already moving, pushing me hard to the side. I stumbled, crashed into the dresser, and sent a heavy ceramic lamp tumbling to the floor. It shattered with a sound like a gunshot, shards scattering across the hardwood.

Vance was trapped now, knowing she couldn’t come close to Wallace, to the door, without risking brain damage.

“Rowan!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the house like a blade.

Panic surged through me. Wallace was still fumbling with the device, his hands shaking worse than before.

“Wallace, move closer!” I hissed.

He stepped forward, stumbling slightly.

Beep.

This time, Vance went rigid. Her face went completely blank, her body freezing mid-step, one hand still reaching for the doorframe.

“Fuck,” Wallace breathed.

We stood there, hearts pounding, listening to the footsteps coming up the stairs.

“Grab her arm,” I whispered urgently.

“What?”

“Grab her arm! So you can claim her the second she comes to, otherwise she’ll bolt and we’re fucked!”

“She called for help,” Wallace said, his voice shaking. “They must have heard her.”

“Maybe not,” I said, though I didn’t believe it. “And if we claim her fast enough, she’ll cover for us. She’ll have to.”

Wallace moved forward hesitantly, wrapping his hand around Vance’s wrist. A moment later, her eyes started to blink, consciousness returning.

“You’re mine,” he mumbled, barely audible.

“Everything okay up there?” Rowan’s voice called from the stairs.

Phoebe and Wallace exchanged panicked glances, but before either of us could say anything, Vance straightened, her expression shifting from blank to alert to… calm. Determined.

She stepped through the doorway and into the hall.

“Everything’s fine, boss,” she called down, her voice steady. “I slipped and knocked over a lamp. Broke the damn thing. You probably heard me swear.”

There was a pause, then Rowan’s voice, closer now. “You sure?”

Vance snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve survived worse than a broken lamp. We’re just looking through the clothes for something that fits.”

Another pause. I could hear him on the landing, probably debating whether to check anyway.

“All right,” he finally said. “Holler if you need anything.”

His footsteps retreated back down the stairs.

Vance turned back toward us, and the smile that spread across her face was bright and genuine. She chuckled, shaking her head. “Well, that’s not how I expected today to go.”

She looked at Wallace with something like admiration. “Ironic, isn’t it? All the precautions we took, me, Rowan, the other girls, and it still happened. I didn’t expect it to come from someone I trusted, though.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. “Statistically, you’re more likely to be victimized by someone you know than a stranger.”

Wallace grumbled something under his breath, clearly uneasy but also fascinated, his eyes roaming over Vance like he couldn’t quite believe she was his now.

Vance’s gaze fell on the VLF device in his hand. “How did you even unclaim me? My handshake was scrambled by the Source. That was the whole point.”

I snorted. “Your group brought back data from Jim Creek, remember? Including the Source’s original scrambling program. Wasn’t hard to reverse engineer it and find the new handshake combination. Only took me a couple of hours.”

Vance nodded slowly, impressed. Then she frowned, her sharp mind catching up. “Wait. How did Wallace claim you?” She paused, studying me more carefully. “Are you claimed? Because if you’re not, why do this for him?”

I smiled, that sense of complicity washing over me, the kinship between two women who understood what it meant to belong. “I’m claimed. I was never freed. Smith had sabotaged the version of the freeing program I used on myself. I was just unclaimed. Wallace and I figured it out yesterday and he immediately claimed me.”

Vance laughed, a genuine sound of appreciation. “Well played.”

Then her expression grew more serious, more focused. “What’s the plan?”

“The plan,” I said, unable to keep the pride out of my voice, “is still evolving. We’re figuring out what Wallace wants, what he needs. But the basic idea is simple: gather as many women for him as possible before it’s too late.”

“Obviously,” Vance said, smirking. She stepped closer to Wallace, her body language shifting subtly: shoulders back, chin tilted up. “And what does our owner want from his women?”

Wallace took a step back, his face flushing red. He was clearly aroused. I could see it in the way his breath hitched, the way his eyes kept darting to her body, but also completely intimidated.

Vance paused, reading him, then backed off slightly. The smirk didn’t leave her face, but she gave him space. She was slowly getting it: how to interact with him.

“So we can use the transmitter to claim more women, right?” she asked, glancing at the device still in Wallace’s hand. “Just go around and start collecting them?”

I sighed. “It’s more complicated than that. The Source’s handshake scrambling was simple, deterministic. Easy to reverse engineer once you had the base data. But the one we—” I winced. “The one I designed and deployed with the freeing program is meant to be harder to crack. Even for me. And I was being really fucking smart about it.”

The irony wasn’t lost on me. I’d made it secure because I’d wanted to protect women from being claimed again. Now that security was getting in my way.

“Ah, so that’s why you went for me first, and want the other girls in my unit. We’re easier to catch. Still,” Vance said thoughtfully. “If it’s hard but not impossible, that means it’s doable, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah. It would take weeks, though. Maybe longer. And there’s another problem.” I leaned against the dresser, crossing my arms. “The counter-virus the Source released before they went down. It’s spreading. Slowly, because everything’s still chaos and people aren’t traveling much, but it’s spreading. We’ve had colleagues from neighboring states report detecting it. The brain matrix that conducts VLF signals gets destroyed in anyone who gets infected. Permanently.”

Vance’s eyes narrowed. “Which means…”

“Which means whatever program, or lack of program, is in a woman’s brain at that moment, it stays there forever. Can’t be changed. Can’t be fixed. And so, if we want to program and claimed women, we need to crack the handshake before the virus gets to them.”

She absorbed that, her expression thoughtful. Then she looked at Wallace, winked, and asked, “So what do you need from me?”

Wallace just looked away, his face even redder.

I laughed. “Right now? We need you playing your part. Stay with Rowan, act normal, and be ready to help us claim the other soldiers when the time comes.”

Vance straightened, her military bearing kicking back in. “Not a problem. Rowan doesn’t really have us serve him anyway, not in any meaningful way. Just help out here and there. I can play the part.”

“Good,” I said. “You’ll need to stay in touch with us. Help us figure out the best way to claim the others without attracting attention. In the meantime, I’ll see if I can crack the handshake before the virus gets here.”

Vance tilted her head, curious. “Couldn’t you find a way to stop the virus instead? Slow it down or something?”

I shook my head. “I’m not a biologist. And I doubt I could come up with a good excuse to get the actual qualified scientists working on it without raising suspicions. But…” I paused, considering. “It’s on the table if I can find the right approach.”

Vance nodded, then moved toward the clothes I’d pulled out earlier. She stripped off her wet tactical pants without any self-consciousness, Wallace’s eyes glued to her as she pulled on a pair of jeans that fit surprisingly well. She added a clean t-shirt, then turned back to us.

“All right,” she said. “Let’s get back before anyone gets suspicious.”

We returned to the backyard, the sun lower now, the string lights starting to look more necessary. People glanced up as we emerged, most of them smiling or chuckling.

“Everything okay?” Gabriel asked.

“Yeah,” Vance said easily. “I’m a klutz. Knocked over a lamp and broke it. Sorry about that.”

Gabriel waved it off. “Don’t worry about it. Place came with plenty of stuff I don’t need anyway.”

The conversation resumed, and Wallace finally started to relax. The mission was over. Successful. He’d claimed his second woman, and no one suspected a thing.

I smiled at him, reaching over to squeeze his hand under the table. My center, my universe. An attraction stronger than love, even.

Then I caught Cedric looking at me from across the table. He had one eyebrow raised slightly, his beer halfway to his lips, and for a moment our eyes met. He held my gaze for just a second longer than necessary before returning to his drink, his attention shifting back to Gabriel.

My stomach tightened slightly. Whatever he thought he saw, he kept it to himself. No one had any reason to suspect anything anyway.