Entering the auction proved to be a simple task once again, though I know better than to assume the rest of the evening will unfold with equal ease. Whether WWA remains oblivious to my identity or if they're laying a trap for us, I cannot be certain. But one thing is clear: I am determined to glean some valuable information tonight, even if it means risking my life.
Walking alongside Wrath, his attire mirroring the opulence of my own, we proceed in silence. His quiet demeanor suits me just fine; I've never quite liked it all that much when men speak. Though it appears we share a common resolve, something I can appreciate: locating Avalyn and Aren at all costs.
Over an hour ago, I received a text from Jessie saying he was working on drafting the layout. Now, all that's left is to wait for him to bring it over so Wrath and I can start exploring the building together. As tempting as it is to forge ahead, I know it's safer to bide our time. I can't afford to wander around blind anymore, especially not in a place as dangerous and unpredictable as this. Patience may be difficult, but it's a necessary precaution if we're to navigate these treacherous waters unscathed.
While Jessie typically avoids such grand events, preferring to handle smaller, less conspicuous tasks for WWA, he has managed to secure access to the auction. I didn't pry into how he managed to get in; I'm just relieved he did. I doubt he'll draw much attention; after all, he's just one insignificant individual amidst a sea of faces.
I stand in the same place as I did last time with Avalyn, though this time with the lesser boyfriend. I observe as Wrath's eyes sweep over the crowd gathered on the balcony, their actions mirroring one another as they laugh and indulge in drinks. They're fools, all of them.
An hour has passed since the auction began, and we're still waiting patiently as Jessie works to procure the information we need. With every passing moment, my unease grows, amplified by the harrowing sight unfolding before us. Women filter on and off the stage, their fates determined by the highest bidder, while buyers come and go, each transaction sealing the fate of another unfortunate soul. The scene before me churns my stomach, filling me with a sense of helpless indignation. I despise feeling powerless, but for now, there's little I can do except maintain my composure and wait.
Once again, I scan the surroundings, searching in vain for any sign of an entrance to the balcony or a pathway to the backstage area. Frustration simmers beneath the surface as my suspicions are confirmed: the only feasible route to the back appears to be through the stage itself. Despite the temptation to rely on our speed and agility to race past unnoticed, the risks are too great. The likelihood of being seen is high, and even if we manage to evade detection, we would be venturing into the unknown without any semblance of a plan.
The importance of obtaining the layout becomes increasingly apparent, and I voice my concerns to Wrath. "He should be done soon; we wait until he delivers the layout before anything. We can't afford to make a move until we're fully educated on how to navigate and operate within this building."
I watch as he responds with a dramatic eye roll and an exaggerated huff, his theatrics prompting a sneer to curl my lip. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's unnecessary drama, and his antics are pushing my patience to its limits. It's almost amusing, in a twisted sort of way, to see him rivaling my own flair for the dramatic. But at this moment, it's more irritating than anything else.
Suddenly, my phone dings, and I instinctively reach into my purse to retrieve it.
J: Lobby.
I seize Wrath by the bicep, leaning in close as I whisper urgently, "He's in the lobby. I'll text you in a few."
With a brief nod from Wrath, I depart, swiftly weaving my way through the crowded hall. Keeping my head tilted down to avoid drawing attention, I navigate through the throngs of people with practiced ease. As I reach the lobby, the sight of the bustling crowd fails to surprise me. It's a sea of bodies, a cacophony of voices and movement that provides ample cover for my clandestine activities. I slip among the masses, grateful for the presence of large men whose imposing figures shield me from prying eyes.
My steps falter as a hand wraps around my waist, pulling me out of my focused stride. I turn to face the source of the interruption, my gaze meeting the eyes of an older man with gray, fading hair. "You for sale, baby?"
Suppressing the urge to recoil further, I force a polite smile onto my lips, masking the revulsion churning inside me. "Oh, please," I retort with a hint of playful sarcasm, mustering up a flirtatious tone. "I'd be far too expensive for you."
As the men around him chuckle, seemingly amused by my response, one of them speaks up, his voice laced with curiosity. "What's your name, sweet thing?" he inquires, his gaze lingering on me expectantly, eager for a response.
"Maybe I'll tell you when I'm done-"
My words trail off abruptly as my gaze is drawn to a small line of people across the room, on the other side of the walkway leading to the stadium. I must have missed it when I entered; it could have been easily concealed amidst the crowd, but now, with fewer people present, it stands out like a beacon.
As I sweep my eyes to the front of the room, I observe a group of three people stepping onto an elevator. It dawns on me that this must be the entry we missed earlier, and it's likely the elevator that leads to the balcony. With renewed focus, I tune into my senses, focusing my attention on the second group of people chatting nearby, anticipating their next move as they wait for the next elevator.
"...said to have special blood."
"A human?"
"That's what they said, but-"
"Done with... what?" I tear my focus away from the scene unfolding at the elevator and redirect my attention to the older man who still has his arm around my waist, his chuckle breaking through my concentration. "Where'd you go, little lady?"
My breath catches in my throat as his hand trails down, groping my ass roughly. Despite the discomfort, I force a tight-lipped smile, masking my revulsion with feigned politeness. "Oh, excuse me," I murmur, feigning an apologetic tone as I quickly pull away from his touch. "I really must excuse myself. Too much champagne, you know." I press a hand to my stomach before gesturing towards the line of people across the room. "I believe the bathroom is over there."
I suppress a surge of anger as the man holding me scoffs, his hand dropping away from me with a dismissive gesture. "Have some class, would you?" he retorts, his tone dripping with condescension.
God forbid a woman needs to piss.
Bowing my head, I rush out an apology before swiftly ducking behind another group of men standing idly by in the lobby. No one pays me any attention as I draw closer to the line of people. But as a familiar face comes into view, I come to a halt.
As I stand frozen in place, I overhear one of the men by the elevator addressing the dark-haired girl, his finger tapping on her shoulder. "Is she the only bloodsucker here tonight?" he inquires, his tone laced with curiosity.
My heart skips a beat as I recognize her- it's the woman Avalyn tried to save. I believe her name was Amoret.
"No, there's a male already down there. I think he's booked for the night. I'm going to drop her off, then I'll come up," another man says, tucking the petite woman beneath his arm.
A sinking feeling settles in the pit of my stomach at his words. A male... it has to be Aren. A wave of heat washes over me, accompanied by a surge of anxiety.
Booked for the night?
The thought of what Aren might be enduring at this very moment propels me forward, overriding any semblance of caution or careful planning. I had resolved to proceed with caution tonight, to approach every move with deliberate intent, but in this moment, all of that goes out the window. I prepare to take a step forward, ready to confront every man in that elevator and fight my way to wherever Aren is being held. Everything hinges on this moment- I must find a way to reach him and devise a plan to escape. However, before I can even move, a firm hand wraps around my wrist, stopping me in my tracks.
Thinking it's the same man as before, I snap my head around, prepared to unleash fury on the asshole who has a problem with women and their normal bodily functions, but instead, it's someone much worse.
It's him.
A chilling sense of dread courses through my veins as I lock gazes with him, his eyes pools of darkness that seem to swallow me whole. In that moment, I regress to a vulnerable child, stripped of any facade of confidence I might have mustered in the past. Memories of the torment he's inflicted upon me rush back, flooding my mind with a relentless torrent of fear.
All of their hands on me. The way yes was forced past my lips every single time even though all I wanted to say was no. I see their real faces of pleasure and hear the sounds of my fake moans. And yet, for someone who's had to fake every single little thing, I can't. I can't do anything but stand there rooted to the ground.
I need to run.
"How's my favorite girl doing? I didn't get the chance to ask last time, seeing as you darted off before I could-"
Without waiting for him to utter another word, I wrench myself free and bolt towards the exit. I don't spare a glance to see if he's giving chase. Fumbling with my phone, I hastily compose the fastest text message I've ever typed, my fingers trembling with urgency.
Me: Leave now. Meet at car.
I had entertained the possibility of him showing up tonight, but I'd buried it so deep within the recesses of my mind, desperate to convince myself he was nothing more than a figment of the past. Yet now, faced with his presence, doubts assail me. Does Aren know he's here? Do they meet? The mere thought sends shivers down my spine. I loathe the idea of abandoning this place, knowing Aren might be left vulnerable, but my own safety must take precedence for now. Aren will have to wait.
As I hurriedly shove my phone back into my purse, I collide head-on with someone, their rough hands instinctively wrapping around my waist to steady me. My heart races as I watch a hand deftly slip a thick, folded paper into my purse. "Apologies, Miss," the man utters, and instantly I recognize the voice as Jessie's. "I wasn't watching where I was going."
He shoots me a teasing wink, a smirk dancing on his lips. He seems to find amusement in the situation, oblivious to the nightmare lurking just behind us, likely observing every move. I don't divulge this to him; instead, I forcefully push him away and bolt toward the front door.
Before I take my leave, I glance back, and my worst fears materialize before my eyes. Jessie stands before the headman, a hand resting heavily on his shoulder, his body trembling with fear. Our eyes meet, and I can see the silent plea for help in his gaze. But I don't succumb to guilt; instead, I harden my resolve and flee, slamming the door shut on my conscience and leaving it behind with a resounding thud.
I find myself by the car before I even realize it, my breath coming in ragged gasps, my body drenched in sweat. I wince as my thighs stick to the driver's seat upon sitting down. Without a second thought about Wrath, I start the car, the engine roaring to life. I had instructed him to meet me here, yet he's nowhere in sight. He'll have to fend for himself, just like the guilt I've left behind. There's no time to waste waiting around.
As I put the car in reverse, hastily swerving out of my parking spot with a loud screech, a sudden bang reverberates through the car. Before I can even register what's happened, Wrath jumps into the passenger seat, his face etched with a deep scowl.
Ignoring his attempts to shut the door or speak, I accelerate, leaving no room for hesitation. Wrath's hands fumble for the seatbelt as he lets out a string of choice words. "What the fuck was that?" he grits out, his voice seething with anger. "You were about to leave me behind."
"No hard feelings," I retort, my tone firm. "We were in danger, and you made it in time. There's no need to dwell on what could have been. Now, buckle up." I keep my gaze focused on the road ahead, refusing to engage further.
"Danger? What danger?" Wrath rushes out, momentarily forgetting about the seatbelt as he turns to face me, his voice tinged with disbelief.
"Someone I knew was there. You don't need the details. If I say we were in danger, then we were in fucking danger."
I feel absolutely no inclination to explain the situation right now. Partly because I simply don't want to, and partly because I fear that if I do, I might lose control entirely. The last thing I need is for Wrath, of all people, to witness me breaking down into a fit of sobs or worse. I'll save that for when I'm in a private space, where I can release my emotions without his scrutinizing gaze weighing on me.
"You're unbelievable! You're actually fucking-"
I cut him off abruptly, flinging my purse at him with enough force to hopefully leave a bruise. "Talk to me nice because I have exactly what we came there for!" I shout back, my tone sharp and commanding.
He continues with a few more curses, hurling insults my way with a creativity that even I find begrudgingly impressive. Finally, he relents and opens the purse, revealing the layout inside.
"How's it look?" I inquire, though I already anticipate being pleased. Jessie has always been flawless at delivering exactly what I desire. Too bad he's likely dead now.
"It sure as fuck doesn't look like my girlfriend," he growls, tossing the layout back at me.
I suppress my frustration, acutely aware that I'm in command of a two-thousand-pound vehicle, and I don't want to risk losing control. Or perhaps, I do. Because I hit the fucking gas.
"Slow down!" Wrath roars beside me, his voice a mix of fury and genuine concern for his safety.
"For years, I've risked my life in search of my brother. I risked it again seeking your help to find Avalyn. Time and again, I've put everything on the line, and for what? For nothing!" I vent, the bitterness of disappointment seeping into my words. With each syllable, I press the gas pedal harder, propelling us forward until the world outside blurs into insignificance. "I cultivated an inside contact to pinpoint the auctions. I secured us a detailed layout to aid our mission. Every lead we've followed, I've uncovered it."
My anger swells, a potent brew mingling with a desperate urge to either break down in tears or unleash pain- whether upon myself or the ungrateful man to my right.
"Idalia, slow down, now."
"Is that a fucking demand? Are you commanding me to slow down?" I burst into a bitter laugh, relishing the sight of his face paling with apprehension.
I'm scaring him.
Good.
"You should count yourself lucky I spared your life. You should be grateful I spared your little girlfriend's life. Hell, I even let that ungrateful brat, Sophie, live," I seethe, my voice dripping with venomous frustration. "All you people ever do is see the worst in me. Why don't you try looking at all the good I've done, huh?"
"Because you're not good, Idalia. You're a manipulative, conniving bitch. And now, I can add fucking crazy to the list!" he yells back, his words reverberating in my ears.
"Crazy?" I snicker, a dangerous edge creeping into my tone. "I'll show you fucking crazy."
I wrench the wheel hard to the left, the car careening out of control. There's a sickening impact as we collide with something, and then suddenly we're airborne, the car flipping over and over. Wrath's panicked shouts are drowned out by my own manic laughter echoing through the chaos.
There's a strange beauty in relinquishing control. For someone accustomed to craving order in every aspect of life, there's an oddly satisfying allure in surrendering to chaos. The impulsive urge to throw oneself into the void carries with it a thrilling exhilaration- a plunge into the unknown, where inhibitions fade and the unpredictable reigns supreme.
In that moment of abandon, boundaries blur, and possibilities expand, offering a rush unlike any other- there's a freedom that can't be found elsewhere. My entire being vibrates with a raw energy, as if life itself pulses through my bones, reminding me of my own vitality. It's exhilarating, terrifying, and undeniably alive.
L'appel du Vide.
When the car finally comes to a halt, we're completely upside down. Despite the pain of various broken bones, I can't stop laughing hysterically. With trembling hands, I fumble for the seatbelt latch and drop to the ceiling of the car with a thud and a few ominous cracks. I don't miss grabbing my purse as I crawl from the vehicle.
I catch sight of Wrath about fifty feet from the car, his groans piercing the air. Despite the chaos, a chuckle escapes my lips as I crack a few bones back into place, the sound echoing eerily in the aftermath. With a deep breath, I rise and stride over to him. As I approach, a grim scene unfolds before me. Wrath's leg is tilted at a gruesome angle, his head bleeding profusely, forming a crimson pool around him.
His eyes flicker to mine, and I relish the fear that fills them, savoring the moment of dominance. With a sweet smile playing on my lips, I bend down to grasp his leg. With a swift, decisive motion, I push it back into place, ignoring his cries of pain. "I told you to buckle up, asshole."