Chosen (Second Sight) by Hazel Hunter Page B

him.
    Maurice slammed the door closed, making Geoffrey jump.  
    “Wait outside,” he ordered the guards.
    They hesitated for a moment and looked at Geoffrey.
    He nodded and tried to produce a knowing smile for them–the one that said everything was under control and he knew exactly what he was doing. Except, at the moment, he had no idea what was going on and he was sure of only one thing: he didn’t want to be in a room with Isabelle’s boyfriend and no guards. Even so, the practiced expression had its desired effect and the two men left without a word.
    Maurice had impressed on him many times that punishment served many purposes. Not only was a swift correction to improper behavior the best way to stop it but it was also a test. New members who willingly submitted were often well on their way to becoming full-fledged members. The two security guards who just left had probably once been in this room–though Geoffrey couldn’t remember them specifically. Going through punishment was like a rite of passage. At an emotional and psychological low, it was an excellent time for Geoffrey to bond with the punished, particularly the women.
    But how is that going to work here?
    “I’m not going to ask you what you were doing,” Maurice said.
    “I told you,” said Isabelle. “I was lost.”
    Bad move , thought Geoffrey. The upstairs was strictly off-limits. He told everyone that– always .
    Maurice pointedly turned from her and strolled slowly down the line of punishment tools.
    Geoffrey could hardly believe it. Maurice didn’t actually think that Mac was going to submit or let Isabelle be punished either. Did he want a fight? Suddenly he wished he hadn’t let the security guards leave. He glanced at the door. They were just outside.
    “Let’s cut through the crap,” Mac said and Maurice turned to him. “I wanted to have a look around. That’s really why I’m here.”
    Geoffrey could only stare at him.
    “I’m listening,” Maurice said slowly.
    Mac hugged Isabelle to his side.
    “We may not have much,” he said. “But we’ve worked hard for it. I’m not about to give it all to someone or something that I don’t know anything about.”
    “But you only had to ask,” Geoffrey said, glad for the opportunity to play his role. He spread his hands and pitched his voice to sound like reasonableness itself. “Maurice and I can tell you anything you want to know. Anybody here can.”
    “Let’s just say I’m not the…trusting kind,” Mac said and Isabelle smiled nervously, looking between him and Maurice.
    “Fine,” Maurice said. “Let’s just call it a mistake.” He turned back to the instruments on the wall and took down the shock wand. He turned back to them. “But the rules are clear.” He paused. “Isabelle?” he said, looking at her. “Put out your hands.”

    • • • • •

    Mac’s shoulders tensed and he had to be careful not to grip Isabelle too hard. She’d instinctively clutched both her hands to her chest.
    “That’s not going to happen,” he said.
    “Really?” replied Maurice, as though he were enjoying the moment. “Then maybe you don’t really want to be members.”
    “Maurice,” Geoffrey said. “Maybe–”
    “The rules,” Maurice said loudly, talking over him. “Are there for a reason, Geoffrey. I know you agree.”
    Geoffrey looked as though he were swallowing his tongue but he eventually nodded.
    Mac observed the two of them. They had to be brothers. The sounds of their voices were nearly identical. But where Geoffrey’s face was like a model’s and his tanned skin perfect, Maurice’s face sagged around a bulbous nose and his skin was grayish, especially compared to the white lab coat.  
    Was he a doctor?
    No doubt Geoffrey’s hair was dyed blonde because Maurice was dark-haired and graying at the temples. Stooped and thin, his physical resemblance to his younger brother was mostly around the mouth. And, as Mac watched, Maurice’s mouth curved into