by Sophie Davis
The partition separating the front of the limo and our roomy compartment in the back was halfway down. Chaz had been quiet so far, but finally spoke up to let us know we were about five minutes from Andrew’s Rock.
“We’ll arrive first. Followed by O’Malley and Reich. Agent Canary her team will be last,” Chaz said.
Frederick slid his earbud into place with one hand, threading the fingers of the other with mine. He smiled down at me.
“Let’s crash us an auction!” This time his tone was all false enthusiasm.
I was tempted to peek inside his head to see what was really bothering him. Frederick wasn’t usually so agitated before a mission—he had more composure and serenity within his skinny limbs than the rest of us did, combined. Instead, I smoothed his silky blonde hair back into place and concentrated on the immediate issue: Kenly. I’d worry about Frederick after she was safe. Besides, like I’d told Penny, it was too late for a last minute roster change. Frederick sitting out meant I’d have to sit out. And that wasn’t happening.
A LINE OF ten identical limos stretched before us, all waiting their turns to dispense men and women in varying degrees of formal wear. Fascinated in spite of myself, I watched as buyers from all over the world exited their vehicles. Some looked like us, in their tuxedos and gowns. Others wore garb reminiscent of their cultures: robes of gold, tartan kilts, rich crimson pajama-like outfits embroidered with Kanji.
The last one brought to mind Mai Matsu and the attack in Tokyo. That poor girl was fighting for her life in a Swiss hospital, all because people thought she was Created. Assaults similar to hers would become common place if the Treaty failed. And without UNITED there to intervene, who would help people like Mai Matsu? No one. It was a sobering thought.
“Focus, Tals.” Erik’s voice filled my mind. “Don’t get worked up over things you can’t change now. Slay one dragon at a time.”
I smiled. My boyfriend, the voice of reason. Two times in one day, in fact. That had to be some kind of record.
“You guys are on.”
Chaz’s warning came only a split second before the car door was yanked open.
A man in his mid-thirties greeted us with a clinical smile and monotone that suggested he’d said the same lines several dozen times that day already.
“Welcome to Andrew’s Rock. Please have your invitations ready to show at the door.”
With that, he held the door open and gestured for the four of us to exit.
“Showtime,” Penny sent.
I met Chaz’s gaze in the rearview mirror. He nodded subtly and tapped his ear, a reminder that he, and the rest of our backup, were waiting in the shadows.
Clinging to Frederick’s hand, I scooted across the bench-style seat and stepped out into the bright sunshine. Penny and Brand joined us a moment later.
Our greeter indicated a short line of people entering through large double-doors.
“This way, please,” he said cordially.
Withdrawing several folded bills from his pants’ pocket, Frederick smoothly slid the money into the man’s hand as we passed by.
“Thank you,” he told the man, tone clipped, as if he’d already dismissed the underling.
“My, my, you’ve got this whole rich-guy act down,” I muttered as we joined the end of the line.
“I’ve been playing various roles most of my life, this one is pretty easy,” Frederick said with a wink. The earlier distress was gone, along with his real persona. Frederick really was a good actor, I realized.
As if to emphasize this point, Frederick turned to look at me. Warm brown eyes raked me from head to toe, the act sensual. Even knowing that my girl parts held no interest for Frederick, I found his admiration for my barely-there cleavage genuine.
I beamed, pretending to be just as enamored with his attention as he was with my appearance. Adding to the ruse, I tilted my head, offering my powdered cheek for a kiss. Frederick didn’t disappoint. He placed impossibly soft lips near the corner of my mouth.
“You don’t have to sell it so well, Tals,” Erik said.
“Are you spying on me?” I sent back, stifling a smile.
“Invitations, if you will,” a woman’s voice interrupted both my mental conversation with Erik and my pretend lovey-dovey act with Frederick.
Frederick whipped his communicator from his pocket, while I reached into my clutch bag for mine. Heart pounding, I presented my pilfered invitation to the doorwoman. She scanned the communicator’s screen and frowned.
We weren’t even inside yet, and somehow I’d already screwed up.
“This is a plus-one invitation,” the woman said in heavily accented English, one I hadn’t noticed when she first spoke.
“That’s correct,” Frederick interjected. “She is my plus-one.”
He thrust his communicator under the doorwoman’s scanner, and her frown quickly morphed into an embarrassed smile.
“My sincere apologies, Monsieur Bolt. We are so pleased to have you. Both of you,” she added, eyes flitting briefly to me before returning to Frederick. “We have some beautiful pieces for sale today, it is our hope that you will find your heart’s desire.”
It took everything I had not to punch her in the face, right then and there. Beautiful pieces? Heart’s desire? Those were people she was talking about. Disgust made my stomach churn and a snappy retort perch on the tip of my tongue. A subtle elbow jab from Frederick made me clench my jaws together to keep it inside.
“Thank you, that is my hope as well,” Frederick replied curtly. He returned the communicator to his pocket, then took my hand and began pulling me forward before the woman could say anything else.
Beyond the doors lay a short hallway lined with guards. Frederick practically dragged me through the crowd milling about, straight into the large room beyond. It was a lounge, with several bars, numerous wallscreens, and couches and tables where other attendees were already sipping champagne and colorful cocktails.
At the first empty table we came across, Frederick nudged me into an armchair, and then sat himself.
“Talia,” he admonished, voice just above a whisper. “You have got to stay calm. Or at least pretend like you’re calm.”
“What? I am pretending,” I snapped.
His expression was incredulous.
“Really? That is your calm face? I’m shocked that woman’s skin didn’t split from the daggers you were glaring.”
Fuming, I glared at Frederick. He was right, of course. In the abstract, I’d understood how difficult being surrounded by all of this debauchery would be. Being here, though, was a hundred times harder than I’d imagined. Seeing the men and women laughing and joking, as if they hadn’t a care in the world. Hearing the doorwoman refer to people like Kenly, like me, as if we were inanimate objects. It all was making me physically ill. And very, very angry.
“This is about Kenly,” Frederick said, the hard edge from a moment ago gone. “You want to help her, right?”
“Right,” I conceded, feeling like a naughty child being reprimanded.
Out of the corner of my eye, Penny’s lemon-yellow dress caught my attention. She and Brand had made it past the doorwoman without issue and were now on their way to the bar.
“Come on, let’s get a drink so we blend,” Frederick muttered, getting to his feet. Ever the gentleman, he offered me his arm. I looped mine through his and let him lead me through the crowd.
While we elbowed our way to the bar, Penny and Brand were being handed their drinks. I kept track of the pair more through my ability to feel other Talents than physical sight. They joined the throng of attendees filtering through an archway at the far end of the room. Even though we’d arrived together, the plan was to spread out and cover as much of the auction house as possible.
“Status?” Catherine Canary asked in my ear.
I plastered on a fake smile and attempted to reply without moving my lips.
“Bar by the entrance.”
“Three back in the do
or line,” came Henri’s response.
Frederick ordered glasses of champagne that came with crushed strawberries in the bottom and a ring of pink sugar around the rim.
“We’re inside the—” Brand started to say.
“Holy shit! This is totally crazy, and not in a good way,” Penny interjected.
“—auction arena,” Brand finished.
Frederick handed the bartender more than enough globes—the Global Currency that was used in England—as a generous tip. The man was striking, with skin the color of a latte and pale gray eyes with just the barest hint of violet, but it was the power wafting off of him like expensive cologne that kept my gaze trained on his beautiful face. He winked at me, then gave a flick of his wrist. Frederick’s money flew into an oversized wine glass to sit atop a mountain of other bills. Those closest to the bar clapped as if telekinesis was something that existed simply to amuse them.
“We’re on the move,” Frederick murmured to Brand. “Rendezvous inside in ten.”
Looping his arm around my waist, he guided me towards the archway we’d seen Penny and Brand pass through. With a pasted-on smile that barely moved when he spoke, Frederick whispered to me, “Smile, Talia. This is fun, remember? The greatest party you could possibly be invited to.”
My eyes wide, like I was in a state of perpetual shock and awe, I grinned like an idiot. All the while, I gripped Frederick’s fingers hard enough to bruise. He laughed, throwing his head back as if I’d said something hilarious.
“Reya, you minx,” Frederick hooted.
It took me a minute to remember who the hell Reya was. Right, I was Reya. A shameless strumpet who was looking to further her acting career by dating a man with enough money to buy a production studio and produce all her films himself.
Wow, I really needed to get my head in the game.
Being so short, even in four-inch heels, seeing over the heads of those in front of me proved impossible. And after Penny’s comment, I desperately wanted a look inside the main arena of the auction house.
“Shit,” Penny swore in the comm unit again.
“What’s wrong?” too many voices to count chorused in response.
But Penny’s reply was for my ears alone and the comm unit stayed quiet.
“Don’t freak out, Tal. Please do not freak out. I see her. I found Kenly. She’s with two guards. Both female. One’s real little, like you. The other is a beast. Like, wow, she’s huge, for real.”
The rest of the information floated past me without comprehension, as I was stuck on those three words. Kenly? Penny found Kenly?
“Is she okay? Is she hurt?” I sent back, mental voice high and squeaky with a mix of frantic hope.
“I can’t tell. I mean, she’s walking on her own. But—seriously, Tal, please do not lose your shit, you will not be able to help her if you go nuts…she’s in chains. I don’t see any blood or bruises, if that’s what you mean by ‘okay’. Beyond that, I don’t know. What do you want me to do?”
“Tal? What’s happening?” Frederick’s mouth was right next to my ear, so he could speak without being overheard.
“Update, Crane,” Catherine insisted.
“We’ve spotted Kenly Baker,” Brand answered for Penny. “Everyone just hold your positions.”
Though I should have been the one giving the orders, my desire to reach Kenly trumped all else. For once, I was glad Brand was overstepping his role.
The crowd around us surged forward as one, carrying Frederick and me through the archway and into the arena. My eyes darted around the cavernous space, searching in vain for Kenly. But the crowd was a thick forest of lavishly attired trees, all sporting different leaves but somehow looking the same.
“Tal? I need some direction here. Do you want me to engage?” Penny urged.
I had orders, strict orders, from Victoria to buy the Created as each came up for auction. Grabbing Kenly now would cause a scene. But letting her sit in captivity a second longer wasn’t something I wanted to do. And she was so close.
In my ear, Brand was communicating the situation to the others who had yet to enter the arena.
“Talia,” Brand snapped harshly, “make the call.”
Swallowing over my heart, which had become inexplicably lodged in my throat, I compromised with myself. If Penny could somehow get Kenly away from her jailers without causing a scene and blowing her cover, then we’d be all good.
“Try to buy her,” I said, using the comm unit so that the entire team heard the plan. By the grace of God, my voice didn’t crack as I spoke the despicable words. “At least we can spare her the indecency of being auctioned off. Do you think you can do that?”
“Oh yeah, I think I can.”
The fake smile on Penny’s face was evident in her words.
Being that we were best friends, it was easy to forget how truly different Penny and I were. I was all about the instant gratification. She excelled at the long game. I operated under a brute-force-is-best philosophy, while Penny danced the graceful steps of subtlety. While both skill sets had their uses, I was out of my element on an undercover assignment. I couldn’t just run around knocking people down and shooting them with their own weapons when I was supposed to be one of them. Thankfully, I had Penny to count on. After all, she had deceived the entirety of TOXIC for years before her cover was blown. Penny was the ultimate undercover agent.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Frederick asked, holding his champagne glass in front of his mouth to muffle his words. He took a small sip and then fake-grinned for the passersby.
I was busy scanning the room for Penny and her yellow dress, and my impatience was creeping up again. Really, how hard was it find a girl dressed like a lemon with magenta hair?
“No,” I admitted. “But it’s worth a….”
My voice trailed off as I stopped perusing the crowd and finally took a good look at the inside of the arena.
Reminiscent of a sport’s stadium or an amphitheater, the interior was round with a stained-glass domed ceiling. A stage had been erected in the front, directly across from the archway we entered through. Thick gold ropes cordoned off an area just before the stage, where approximately fifty velvet chairs were setup for VIPs. Suit-clad guards with handheld scanners patrolled the elite section, double-checking that the people occupying the chairs had indeed paid for the privilege.
In one ear, I heard Penny talking in an exaggerated drunk-girl voice that was eerily similar to her actual drunk voice. A moment ago, I would have hung on every word of that conversation, desperate to learn how Kenly was doing. Now? It was like I’d just been enveloped in a soundproof bubble, all audio muted by the roaring of blood in my hypersensitive ears.
The upper two-thirds of the arena were lined with glass windows. At first glance, I’d assumed they were box seats like at a sporting event. Reserved for obscenely wealthy patrons who wanted to enjoy the auction in comfort and away from the commoners. Those of us with only a measly ten million or so globes in the bank. But the lights in one of those boxes turned on. For maybe the first time in my life, I actually felt like I was going to faint. Like, seriously fall down on the ground, unconscious.
Men, women, girls, and boys, dressed to the nines, complete with hair and makeup, were chained to raised platforms in each glass box.
Needing something to dull the pain in my heart and quiet the fury in my veins, I gulped the champagne in my hand like it was water. Reality was crashing down on me like an anvil. This was actually happening. It was real life. I was standing in an auction house where, in the very near future, Talents were going to be sold. To buyers. For money. Until that instant, I hadn’t fully appreciated the reality of the situation.
Like a particularly gory hover wreck, I was unable to look away, yet horrified by what I was seeing. Suddenly, my view was blocked by the neatly tied bowtie around Frederick’s neck. His hands were resting on my shoulders, the champagne glass in his right hand cold against my bare skin.
“St
eady, Talia,” he whispered.
“I like this one,” Penny’s voice slurred in my ear. “She’s cute as a button.” My best friend hiccupped for effect. “What can she do? How much does she cost?”
I met Frederick’s concerned gaze.
“Pinch me,” I demanded.
He quirked a thin eyebrow.
“This is a nightmare, right?”
Frederick relaxed, seemingly convinced that he wasn’t about to have a blubbering pile of Mind Manipulator on his hands. Rattled as I was on the inside, my exterior was suddenly rock solid. It had to be. Because this wasn’t about me. I wasn’t the one with her head on dignity’s chopping block. The one scared shitless that freedom was about to become a dirty word. The one whose fate and worth were both being discussed by a ridiculous drunk girl.
Kenly. Focus on Kenly, I coached myself.
“Hey, guys? I think we have a really big problem,” Henri said sharply, his announcement breaking into the Penny Show like a news alert bulletin. “I think I just saw a ghost.”
THE WHOLE REMOTE viewing thing was super awkward. Somehow, it felt even more intrusive than reading thoughts and manipulating emotions. Normally I had to be relaxed, in a calm, tranquil environment, like when I’d viewed Kenly the day before. But slipping into Talia’s head, viewing my girlfriend was loads easier than with her protégé. Maybe it was the bond we’d created way back when, by spending so much time in each other’s heads. Or Talia’s insanely intense mood swings. Whatever the case, sitting in the copilot chair of a hover cockpit, I was yanked into Talia’s world without warning.
Like the voyeur she’d accused me of being the night before, I watched my girlfriend play kissy-face with Henri’s boyfriend. Weird was an understatement. Frederick was a natural, probably from his years as a conductor on the Underground, where he ferreted the Talented outside of TOXIC’s rule, across the border into Coalition territory. Had I not known better, I would have believed the adoring gaze he bestowed upon Talia was genuine.
Hell, I did know better and still my blood began to boil when he touched her. Even reminding myself that it was all an act did little to quell the jealousy. She was mine to love. No one, not even a gay friend of mine, touched her and got to keep his hand.
