by Sky Winters
"What's that?" asked Adelaide, looking around. "Someone here?"
"No," said Thorne. "It's my clients; they're calling to check in on everything. They're going to want to take a look at you, and if you know what's good for you, you won't say a goddamn word. Got it?"
Adelaide could only nod.
Thorne took a sip of his coffee and gestured for Adelaide to follow him. He led her through the winding hallways of the home, the two of them eventually ending up in an office with dark décor, a massive TV hanging over a black marble fireplace. Thorne picked up a remote from the massive black desk in the middle of the room and flicked the TV on, the screen filling with the image of three people, an older man and a woman, and a younger man with a prim, snotty expression on his face. The three individuals all had the same elegant, aristocratic look, and all were stunningly gorgeous in their own way.
"Thorne," said the man, his voice rich and his accent old-fashioned, his eyes latching onto Adelaide, "I see that our money has thus far been well-spent."
"Mr. Abruzzi," said Thorne, his tone respectful, "good to see you. As you can see, I have the package."
Abruzzi? thought Adelaide. Is that who these people are? They seem so strange, like they're from another time.
Adelaide bristled at being referred to in such a way.
"I can see that," said the woman. "And she's looking just as fit and fine as we've been led to believe."
"That's her?" asked the younger man, who appeared to Adelaide to be about her age. "I think…she'll do nicely."
"Hush," said Mr. Abruzzi. "I didn't choose her so that you'd have someone to ogle over. You have plenty of…toys to entertain yourself with. This girl is about something more than that."
What the hell are they talking about? Adelaide thought to herself. What's this all about?
"I hear from your team that you encountered a bit of an issue last night when retrieving the package," said Mr. Abruzzi.
"Yes," said Thorne. "But nothing I wasn't able to handle."
"Good," said Mr. Abruzzi. "But this has given us reason for concern. It obviously means that we're not the only family with our eyes on this one."
Adelaide couldn't take it any longer. Being talked about like she was some piece of merchandise was more than she could stand. Bolting up from her seat, she cleared her throat and spoke.
"What the hell is going on?" she demanded. "Who the hell are you, and what you are doing with me?"
Silence fell on the room. Adelaide stood frozen for a moment, as if coming back to her senses after being possessed. Her eyes shot to Thorne, who was now glaring at her hard. The family on the TV, on the other hand, didn't seem to have been bothered in the slightest.
After a few moments, the patriarch spoke.
"I see this one has spunk," he said, his tone one of evaluation, as if he were buying a car and the salesman had just finished showing him what it could do.
"Indeed," said the woman. "Though I'm not sure if ‘spunk' is entirely what we're looking for, for what we have in mind for her."
The younger man's mouth twisted up into a pleased smile as he leaned forward.
"I like it," he said. "She already seems more interesting than the others."
They seemed to be speaking in a purposefully cagey language, and it drove Adelaide mad. It became clear to her that she wasn't going to be getting any answers. Thorne gestured for her to sit her butt back down right then and there. Adelaide realized that she had no other option but to comply.
"Are we still going to be keeping her in the dark?" asked Thorne. "Keeping both of us in the dark?"
"Need-to-know, Mr. Lewis," said Mr. Abruzzi. "Need-to-know. That lovely little specimen will have all the answers she desires once she arrives in New York. All you need to know, on the other hand, is that you'll be paid handsomely for this assignment, just as we agreed."
"Fine with me," said Thorne. "Just so long as you're not keeping anything from me. I had to fight off a fucking merc last night while I was picking this one up, after all."
"Yes," said Mr. Abruzzi. "That is a troubling development. But rest assured, we'll be giving the issue the attention that it deserves. Until then, we expect you to complete the assignment as requested. That is all."
With that, the screen turned black.
"What the fuck was that?" demanded Thorne, turning an angry glare toward Adelaide.
"I couldn't take it anymore," she said. "I couldn't stand them talking about me like that."
"Get fucking used to it," he said. "A family as powerful as they are talks to people like us however the hell they want. You're lucky they didn't seem to give a damn about you speaking out of turn like that."
"And you're just fine with all of this? Getting ordered around like some kind of attack dog?"
"It's what I'm good at," said Thorne. "What can I say?"
Adelaide harrumphed and crossed her arms under her breasts.
"I don't get how you can act like that," she said. "Just doing what other people pay you to do, not asking any questions."
"As long as the money's good, I don't give a good goddamn," said Thorne, getting up from where he'd been sitting on the edge of the desk.
Adelaide wondered just what kinds of other jobs a mercenary like Thorne had performed. The effect of knowing that she was in the same room as a professional killer was strange to her. On the one hand, she was frightened. But on the other, she was a little thrilled.
"We've got the day to kill, so try to relax," said Thorne, preparing to leave.
"'Relax'?" asked Adelaide. "How the hell am I supposed to relax in a situation like this?”
Thorne shrugged.
"There's a pool out back; go sunbathe or something. Plenty of girl clothes in that bedroom you were in."
Adelaide wanted to scream. She couldn't believe Thorne was treating this like they were housesitting.
"And maybe if you're good, I'll make dinner," said Thorne with a sly smile.
And then he was gone.
Adelaide was left alone with her frustration. She was a prisoner scheduled to be sent to live with some strange family in New York the next day, and now she had nothing to do but roam around some massive house in the middle of nowhere. She wanted her phone, she wanted to talk to her friends, to tell them to come get her so she could put all this insanity behind her. But it was impossible.
She checked out the property, trying to find some avenue of escape. The more she looked, however, the more she realized that Thorne was right – there was no getting out of here. The windows and doors were all locked, the glass was made of some material too thick to break through, and even if she were able to leave, the gates surrounding the property were too tall to scale. Then there was the matter of being smack-dab in the middle of some forgotten bayou.
Might as well make the best of this, thought Adelaide.
Returning to the bedroom where she'd woken up, she went through the dressers and, sure enough, found some women's clothing. Taking a one-piece bathing suit, she grabbed a towel from the bathroom and headed outside to the pool. The door leading to the backyard was one of the few unlocked, and she was certain that Thorne was keeping a close eye on it through the house's security system.
Laying out her towel, she found a spot by the pool and stretched out on top of it. Time trickled by, and laying there in the warm sun, Adelaide managed to relax, if only a little bit.
The gruff voice of Thorne from behind her snapped her out of her reverie.
"We got steak, and more steak," he said.
Adelaide opened her eyes and saw that Thorne was standing over her, his huge, built body blocking out the last traces of the day's sun like some sort of monumental statue.
"You're serious about dinner?" asked Adelaide?
"Why wouldn't I be?" asked Thorne. "You haven't had a damn thing to eat all day."
"Guess I haven't really been in the mood for it, what with the ‘being kidnapped and sold into sex slavery' thing."
Thorne snorted.<
br />
"'Sex slavery'?" he asked. "Don't flatter yourself."
Then his mouth formed into a little smirk. Adelaide couldn't help but slap his leg as hard as she could.
"Calm down, kiddo," said Thorne. "Anyway, you need to eat something. Finish up out here, go take a shower, and be ready to eat."
Then he was gone.
Adelaide tried to imagine forcing down the anxiety boiling in her long enough to have something to eat. It was about the least appealing thing she could imagine, but she knew Thorne was right that she needed to get something in her. She laid poolside until the sun dipped a little further toward the horizon and a mild chill slipped into the air. Then, she headed back inside and took a quick shower, doing her best to relax and let the tension melt out of her body.
Once she was done, it was around early evening. Throwing on some clothes from the dresser and stepping out of her room, she smelled the scent of cooking meat on the air. Though she was still tight with nerves, she couldn't help but feel her mouth water a little bit at this. Adelaide stepped down the grand staircase, the smell growing with each stair she descended. The soft sounds of jazz filled the air from some faraway stereo system.
Entering the kitchen, she laid eyes on Thorne standing at the stove, his sleeves rolled up around his forearms as he flipped a couple of steaks on a massive stainless-steel pan.
"There she is," he said, dumping the two enormous pieces of sizzling meat onto a pair of plates, followed by some vegetables that had been cooking on another burner. "Hope you're ready for some grub."
"I suppose I am," said Adelaide, the whole scene striking her as a little strange.
"What?" said Thorne, apparently noticing how he was looking at her.
"Oh, nothing," she said. "Just didn't expect to come down here and see you making food while listening to jazz."
"Huh?" he said. "Oh, it helps me concentrate. Why – you surprised?"
"Maybe a little," she said, leaning forward on the counter. "You just don't strike me as the type. What with the tattoos and everything."
And the muscles, she thought to herself, but wisely choosing to keep that observation secret.
"And what did you expect a guy like me would do for dinner?" he said, placing the vegetables on the plates next to the meat.
"I don't know," said Adelaide. "You kind of strike me as more of a ‘fast food burrito with a beer with some heavy metal playing' type."
"Who's to say that isn't my jam?" he asked. "Maybe I'm trying to impress you."
Adelaide didn't need it explained to her that he was being about as smart-assey as it got.
"Anyway, it's ready," he said. "I got some of that fancy-ass wine they got in the cellar. Go grab a seat."
Adelaide went into the dining room where a couple of places had been set on the long, black table. She took a seat and reached for the bottle of wine on the table, noticing that the bottle looked ancient, as though it were as old as the house itself.
"I almost don't want to open this," she said as Thorne entered the dining room with the two plates in hand. "It looks like it should be in a museum or something."
"You can do whatever you want with that bottle," he said, setting the plates down. "I'm more interested in what's inside."
"Can't say I disagree with that," said Adelaide, handing the bottle over to Thorne.
Seconds later, he had it opened and was pouring two glasses of ruby-colored wine for the both of them. Then, he plopped into the chair across from her.
"What, you waiting to say grace? Dig in."
With that, Thorne set into the meat in front of him, ripping it apart effortlessly and shoving forkful after forkful into his mouth. Adelaide watched him eat for a time, noting that he was eating it like a ferocity that was almost animalistic. She poked at the meat on her plate, grease and thin blood seeping out of it. Though she still felt a little ill at ease, by now, she was too hungry to care. Adelaide first took a long sip of wine before cutting into the meat, feeling better as soon as the first sip and forkful was in her belly.
The more she ate, however, the more she felt something brew up inside of her. Her eyes flicked over to Thorne, who was happily chowing down on his meal, apparently not affected by a care in the world. She realized that she felt angry.
"What?" said Thorne, looking up at Adelaide as he wiped the grease from his mouth with the back of his hand.
"I still can't believe this bullshit," she said, the words shooting out of her like little daggers. "Sitting here eating a nice meal, trying to forget that I'm getting shipped off to New York tomorrow to be sold like property."
"Technically, you're not getting sold," said Thorne, the hint of a shit-eating grin on his face. "If you're property, it's more like you're getting stolen."
"Fuck you," said Adelaide, throwing down her napkin on the table. "I know you're a heartless psycho and that this is just a job for you, but you've ripped me away from my life and now you're sitting there eating a steak like it's nothing."
"Bouncing around from major to major, job to job, your only friends being a couple of party girls who can't hold their booze – some life I was taking you away from."
"But I had a home, I had…things!" shouted Adelaide. "And now I'm going to be…what? What's going to happen to me once you drop me off? You don't know because you don't care. You're just in this to get paid, and you don't give a good goddamn about what happens to me or whatever other girl you do this to. You're…you're a sex trafficker for hire! That's all you are!"
Despite the venom dripping from Adelaide's words, Thorne didn't seem to be bothered by anything she had to say. Instead, he poured himself another glass of wine, raising the drink to his lips, and downed half of it with a single swig.
"This is actually my first time doing this," he said. "The ‘kidnapping a girl' thing. Mostly, I do escort work, bodyguard jobs – stuff like that. Assassinations, if I'm lucky."
"Assass-" said Adelaide, not believing what she was hearing, but stopping herself before she could ask. "Well, I guess now you can add human trafficking to your oh-so-impressive resume."
Thorne said nothing, and Adelaide got the impression he was waiting for her to tire out.
"What kind of person are you, anyway?" she asked. "You just take whatever job you get offered, no questions asked? Isn't there honor among thieves or something?"
"'Honor among thieves' means we don't screw each other over people in the same biz. But yeah, I take whatever job's offered to me, so long as the necessary backwork's been done and the client's ready to pay. Why should I care what jobs I have to do, just as long as the money's good?"
Adelaide realized that the odds of her getting through to Thorne were very, very slim. He continued to eat and drink, and Adelaide slumped into her chair, defeated. Her eyes flicked up to him as he dined, and she couldn't help but think about how goddamn good-looking he was. It was like insult to injury that the man putting her through this nightmare made her hornier than she'd ever remembered being. It struck her as some kind of a sick, cosmic joke.
Once Thorne was done, he polished off the rest of his wine and tossed his napkin onto his plate.
"Pretty damn good cook, if you ask me," he said.
Adelaide opened her mouth to speak, but before a word could come out, a noise ripped through the dining room. It was a terrible noise, like metal was being smashed and ground – almost like a building was collapsing.
"What the fuck?" said Thorne, shooting up from his chair and running to the back of the house toward the sound.
Adelaide's heart pounded in her chest. More noises boomed from behind the house, these sounding like massive footsteps from…something. She rushed to Thorne's side by the back windows of the house.
She couldn't believe what she laid eyes on.
At the far end of the backyard was a pair of enormous beasts that looked to Adelaide like dinosaurs. They were huge, easily at least twenty feet tall, with gray, scaled skin and fearsome faces. They'd smashed through the towering fenc
e surrounding the property and were making their way toward the house, growing closer with each passing second.
Once the pair of beasts stopped at the edge of the swimming pool, stretching out a pair of mighty wings from their backs and letting out deafening roars, Adelaide realized just what these things were.
They were dragons.
CHAPTER 5
"Fuck!" shouted Thorne, his hands on the large windows looking out onto the back property, his eyes locked onto the pair of gray dragons. "How the fuck did they find us here?"
"What?" demanded Adelaide. "What are you talking about? Are those things dragons?"
"Yes, they're fucking dragons!" shouted Thorne over the sound of the beasts letting out another pair of roars.
Thorne's eyes latched back onto the creatures.
Grays, he thought, noting the ash-colored scales that covered both of the dragons, which meant that they were newer dragons, unaffiliated with any clan and not seasoned enough to have earned a color. Standard dragons; nothing I shouldn't be able to handle. But there's two of them; that might make things tricky.
Before he could act, the dragons shifted. Where the massive grays once stood was now a pair of menacing-looking thugs in slick suits. Thorne could tell right away that these were ronin dragons – not with a clan, nor with a mercenary company - just a few low-lifes looking to get paid.
"Thorne Lewis!" called out one in a deep voice. "You know why we're here. Send the girl out and we'll allow you to leave with your life."
Thorne boiled with rage.
"Someone knows we're here," he hissed, turning to Adelaide.
"I can see that," she said, her fear-widened eyes on the dragons.
"No," said Thorne. "Someone who hired these fuckers knows we’re here. They know who we are, and what we're doing."
Adelaide said nothing, and it was clear that she didn't know what to make of all of this.
So much the fucking better, thought Thorne. She doesn't need to know any of this crap.
"You'll let me leave with my life," said Thorne. "But are you gonna replace that fence?"
The two thugs turned to each other and shared a look.
"Come out now," one of them said. "Otherwise, we'll have to smash through this lovely home and pick the girl out of the rubble."
