Jesse is the reason my hair is blonde. She’s the reason The Domina exists, even if she didn’t exactly try to do that. She tore me away from my life once before to have me be her little recruiter. I don’t know why she was drawn to me. I didn’t even really know what my powers did before I met her. No one knew besides that they were pretty sparkles.

I’d just been using them as distractions: to blind, in the very rare occasion to temporarily paralyze. I’d been afraid to use them more, thinking I could really hurt someone . . . Real heroines don’t leave anyone broken, not even the bad guys. Even Yanta being broken was an accident.

The limo hits a pothole and the shudders make me tense and remember some things I’ve read. When programming starts to melt away - things like Jesse’s cotton pink legs trigger, things that make you forget and lose yourself - you’re supposed to start remembering things you were trained to forget, because you didn’t really forget them. You were trained to not remember. That’s never happened. Is it something about all of the Dust and the Pink and those clacking balls, or is my mind really that addicted?

Have I ever really been free since I met Dust for the second time in that elevator?

My stomach feels twisted in a knot. My eyes feel full of tears I’m embarrassed to have. When I lost who I was, I didn’t take her name because I needed an alias. I took her name because it made me feel strong, because it made me feel safe, because . . .

You were the only one who came back . . .

There had been tears in her eyes. I’ve never been able to remember crawling on my hands and knees into the lobby, clawing my way in like she said I did, but I can remember that day in her chair so much better than I used to. I can remember how scared but glad to see me she was. I can remember how much she didn’t feel like I’d failed her, even if I knew I had. If I’d been stronger, I could have saved all of them. I wouldn’t have needed Her to fix me, to make me be able to fight.

I used to wake up some nights feeling like I was falling. Everyone does, but to me it felt like I was falling into the cracks in my own shattered mind. She’d used as much mental glue as she could to put me back together, but breaking that rod apart in my head was tough. Even when I was breaking Yanta’s nose and her spirit she was fraying my mind. It took a long time for that to go away.

Jesse didn’t cast me aside. She didn’t just find a new recruiter to be in her bed and take my place. Her eyes still looked full of tears every time I told her I woke up on the floor clutching at the edge of the bed for dear life, sure I was actually falling between the cracks.

She didn’t force me to heal quicker than I could. She didn’t isolate me. She treated me like more than just a slave, but would she do that for anyone or was that just for me? Was she programming me to see those reactions in her, or were they real? I’ve never asked anyone to probe my mind and unlock the truth from those days, but now I just might need to. I need to know. Even now, being able to go and confront Her myself, face to face, no one says she won’t lie.

I don’t know if I have it in me to spark up The Lady . . .

We don’t know how you got back, it’s very unnerving… I know you’re scared but… I’m so proud of you… I can feel her sitting on the bed next to me, making the fluffy mattress sink just enough to feel. I can feel her lips on my forehead and the way she made me feel safe.

My eyes close and I wrap my arms around myself, imagining they’re around her again. Just imagining it makes me feel warm and young. Twenty-three isn’t that young, but I was a young twenty-three.

She held me so tight, tighter than I’d ever felt anyone hold me before. It was like she was trying to hold me together, keep me from crumbling and falling apart, breaking away. Every second was just that moment. It was so hard to hold onto anything that had happened before. It was scary. Every other thought was like climbing stairs made of sand, feet could just slide in and be stuck forever . . .

I can still remember seeing Yanta’s flaming hair falling back as her ruby lips curled and that evil laugh shook across my body. A part of her is probably still inside of my head, mocking me even now . . .

Don’t… Don’t do that! Don’t go in!

The Lady cried when I’d started to slip. No, that’s not right. Crying makes it sound like she just had tears and a little bit of shaking. She sobbed. Her tears had been big and fast, and her whole body was shaking when she commanded me, begged me not to surrender to one of those large black pits.

How long had she spent just holding me? When I’d come back, with Dust and Pink and all of those other women, she’d been so . . . amazing.

She’s yours. Her, and anything else you ever want. Ever. Okay? Ever . . . You . . . You can have anything you want, anything I mean it . . . Just . . . Whatever you want ever. Okay?

She’d kissed my cheek, she’d stroked my hair and lead me to her bed. It wasn’t for her, it was for me. She let me touch her the way I wanted to touch her and she touched me back. Was it love, or had I proved I was an invaluable tool?

When I told Jade about Chronos, had it hurt The Lady as much as it hurt me?

And this time, there won’t be any cotton legs, okay?

Had she been honest . . .? I wouldn’t remember if that wasn’t true. I can’t remember anything she didn’t want me to. Maybe I should have asked her to give me Pink and Dust. If they’d been on patrol with me, we could have taken down the Slut Squad easily. There would be no Domina Argenti . . . Things would be so much smoother.

There wouldn’t be an Aurora. Maybe I would have figured out how to use my magic with Jesse, or maybe even Pink or Dust or even Silhouette, but . . . it wouldn’t be her. She wouldn’t have the same color of hair I stroke out of Olivia’s face every morning. There wouldn’t be a Sylvia, who looks at me and makes my heart shudder that she’ll never see her real mother again, but even if I’m the next best thing. I never know how far to go with her and I don’t think Valerie knows either.

No, I’m not going to cry. I told myself I wouldn’t cry. I have to stop her. Aurora needs me. She needs Olivia. Both of us need her. I can’t let her take me away from everything I love. When I finally talked to Linda again she forgave me, but it hurt.

I have to grow up. If I don’t stop The Lady now, then it’ll only get worse. I can’t let Aurora and Sylvia grow up in a world where powerful women control everyone weaker just for money and the thrill of it. There needs to be a semblance of safety and order, a semblance of free will even if everyone is still a slave to things like food and the all mighty dollar in one way or another.

Just because I want to walk right into that office and kneel, apologizing for everything I ever did to hurt her, it doesn’t mean I can. Lust and submission is easier, but right now it’s not right.

There are things more important than my own enjoyment.

. . . and you’ll be happy to do anything I say… Won’t you Silver?

“No . . .” Hot wet tears burn my eyes and I can feel my body shaking. I want to kneel. I want to say yes. I want to be silver again. I want to kneel and be candied and dusted and used like a little sex toy with no mind or will of her own, but I can’t do it again. It would make everyone Quillspawn inked be controlled for nothing. It would make all of my effort to stop The Argentum Project meaningless.

Every little thing I’ve done since I sparked myself instead of Jade in that cafe would be meaningless. It’s all been an attempt to finally become a real woman and not just a silver skinned puppet.

I have a duty to my daughter, to my lover, to all of Midas . . . a duty to serve and protect, badge or not. There’s no place in that oath for infidelity. Argentia wanted to save the world, and she grew up to be me . . . maybe I owe it to her most of all.

The limo stops and I stare at the driver.

It’s time to go see if I can grow up after all.