I gripped the door handle, and my life flashed before my eyes. They came in tiny bursts and fluttered around in my mind like a butterfly evolving through time.
Some were meaningful—like my first impression of Lucien. He was a scrawny and tall prepubescent boy with rich gold eyes that dripped like honey every time he had a mischievous idea. Even then, in my five-year-old mind, I thought he was incredibly easy to read. That's probably when I knew he was someone I could trust.
Some were much darker than I had remembered them to be. Where I was trapped in a basement for days on end; where I clawed at a door until my nails grew brittle and blistered with blood. Until my voice went hoarse, and my eyes dried out from my frantic cries for help that had always gone unanswered.
The Kelley’s never liked that I was a child who could see things. In their eyes, I was the embodiment of evil and needed to be cleansed. It was almost laughable now because, in the end, I was seeing more things than ever before.
I honestly hated mulling over the past. It did nothing for me except bring out the scared little girl I was so desperate to hide.
Now, I had to walk through that door with those memories seared into my brain—relentlessly corrupting my conscience and spreading their seeds of doubt like a flame to a drought-ridden forest that was bound to eradicate the inhabitants.
It made me wonder, how many times would I have to suck up my emotions and push them down until there was only a gaping hole where my heart once was?
My hands were trembling now, but I still managed to open the door and let out a shaky breath—one that I didn't know I was holding in until now.
I repressed my fear like it was second nature, and instead, propelled myself forward with each treacherous step.
The narrow hallway was damp and cold as the dim lights flickered on and off. The heavy vibrations of the music faded gradually until I only heard my shallow breathing and my betraying heartbeat that thumped loudly against my chest. It felt like an eternity had come and gone before a light wooden door emerged with the symbol of a gold and silver crescent moon resting right above eye level.
I heard voices grow louder and louder, and then an eruption of laughter that made me flinch and step backward.
I shook out the tension that was enveloping my whole body and pressed the fear down again; so far down that I was blinded by rage instead.
If I died here, I would at least die with some dignity, or at least attempt to. I had always been fickle.
The door clicked, and I stepped inside.
The laughter immediately died down as I took in my surroundings. The room had the stench of cedarwood, booze, and cigars. It was all painted black except for one mirrored wall that made the whole room seem larger than it was.
My eyes darted to a blood-red leather sofa and a glass coffee table that had an ashtray in the center.
A small cloud of smoke from a recently finished cigar had slowly begun to smother the place.
Two women with long azure-blue hair and matching silver cocktail dresses with black-spiked heels lounged lazily as they sipped on what appeared to be a thick purple wine. My eyes lingered on a bulky man with raven-black hair that tinted blue each time the revolving lowlights touched him. He sported a white tuxedo and was squished between the two ladies. His arms wrapped around their tiny waists.
His bright red eyes lit up and swirled like a flame as we locked eyes. A spine-chilling smirk stretched across his face that sent gooseflesh behind my ears and tickled my neck.
I swiftly averted his gaze and stared at the group of men occupying a round table with another wooden door behind it. It seemed I had just interrupted an important game of poker as they all looked away from their hand, and leered at me.
The raven-haired man spoke and it sounded just as slimy as his smile looked. “Ah, Kaschel said a little mouse might show itself tonight.” The man stood up and he was taller than I had expected. He smoothed out his tux and flicked his wrist at one of the other guys sitting at the table. Immediately, one launched up and scurried to the other door and softly knocked. He must have heard something because he turned back to the raven-haired man and nodded. That made his smile twisted into something truly wicked. “By all means, walk right through that door and don't mind us.”
The amount of doors I had to keep walking through to get to this man was ridiculous.
I didn't say a word to the raven-haired man. I was too nervous that he would take it as an invitation to approach me, and I didn't have the heart to confront or deal with two psychopaths tonight.
I hurried past them and avoided all lingering eyes until I swung the other door open and promptly shut it behind me.
“Sit.” The crackling of the fireplace made his words sound more ominous as they cast a coppery glow throughout the room.
I felt compelled to listen or maybe I was too nervous that I couldn't think about anything else at that point. So, my legs dragged me to an empty chestnut-colored wingback chair as he lounged on the other.
I attempted to look past him and not directly into his eyes because I was afraid I would immediately start begging like a coward—again. God, my boldness was as fickle as my heart. Where did my rage go?
I scanned the walls, and it was nothing but shelves of leather-back books that seemed to be weathered by age.
He cleared his throat and that made my eyes dart back to him. The only thing I could hear now was the hissing of the fireplace and my poor, palpitating heart.
His long alabaster hair was freed from his loose ponytail as he leaned back into the chair; his chin pointed slightly up as if he was scrutinizing me, and the tie he had been wearing was now unwound and exposed his muscular chest. He appeared more relaxed than I had ever been in my entire life, and for some reason, that pissed me off.
I broke the silence. “I'm here. What's the deal?” I asked, crossing my arms and attempting to look irritated, but I probably just looked constipated. I would have to work on my intimidation tactics.
His face tugged into a half-smirk and then quickly went back to a soured expression of disinterest. He leaned forward, only a foot away from me. I had to physically dig my nails into my upper arms so I didn't flinch back from the threatening aura that naturally oozed off of him.
“You almost didn't make it, and I would have had to keep my word and ruin my perfectly good suit on those parasites.” He clicked his tongue as his eyes dropped down to my chest. “Where is it?”
It was in my pocket, but since it was the only leverage I had over him—no way in hell was I telling him that. “Why does it matter? It doesn't seem like you can hold it for long anyways.”
That pinched a nerve because he instantly snapped up and grabbed both sides of my chair.
I desperately wanted to retreat further, but I was pinned.
I couldn't stop staring into his black eyes as they stirred with midnight blue and purple as if they were floating amethysts—it was unsettling.
He tilted his head to the side. He was so close I could feel his hot breath caressing my cheek as he whispered into my ear. “I don't have to explain anything to a little flea like you. The deal is, I won't kill the people you love as long as you do as I say. Once I find what is mine, I will let you go. Deal?” He leaned back, but his arms were still gripping the sides of my chair.
I opened and closed my mouth and tried to utter a word, but I was too stunned. So, I nodded my head in agreement and watched the flames crackle, and hiss as the light danced across his face.
Oh god, I was fucked.
It was like he read my mind and smiled. It was a strikingly handsome smile that probably would have swept any other woman off their feet, but not for me. No—all it did was make my stomach twist into a massive knot.
“Good. We leave at sunrise. Ryas will accompany you to your room.”
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