“One thousand!” a man shouted instantly.
The auctioneer shook his head. “Oh, no. Bidding for this treasure will start at twenty thousand.”
Everyone had something to say about that, and several outraged people voiced their disgust. Still, hands were raised in the air almost quicker than he could raise the amount. The auctioneer lowered his megaphone as he stared out at the crowd in wonder. Everyone was shouting offers at him. At last count, Iris was positive someone had raised the stakes to fifty thousand.
“We need to move, now,” she said to Fox.
“No.” He tightened his fingers around hers. “When the sale is made and they head out back, we’ll intercept them. It’ll be easier to overpower those in the background, than out here with these enraged bidders. One false move, and any one of these hungry pigs could swoop in and take her. We don’t want to lose sight of her in this crowded place. Not again.”
Iris took a deep breath and released it slowly. Her nerves were hitching. She wanted nothing more than to leave this disgusting place. A pit filled with predators that had more credits than sense. She could see the ones who could actually afford to bid, as opposed to the ones who were here for the show, or in the hopes of getting lucky enough to tag along with one of the rich. No one here was above prostituting themselves to get to the higher floors. That much was obvious.
“Stop, people. You’re going too fast!” The auctioneer lifted the hand holding the megaphone in front of him. “If someone wants to take this beautiful creature home with them today, then you’re all going to have to slow down and allow me to accept the bids. Now, we were up to sixty-five thousand with the man near the back. Do I hear seventy anywhere?”
Someone shouted the amount.
“We’ve got seventy—”
“One hundred thousand!”
The crowd hushed as all heads turned to the left of the room. Just a little way ahead of them, she spotted a man with white hair. His wrinkled hand was up in the air, his long fingers steady as he held the attention of everyone around him.
“That’s going once, twice, three times…we have a winner!” The auctioneer rushed it along, probably eager to score the outrageous amount of credits.
Conversation started around them again, as the white-haired man approached the stage, and Fox pulled on her hand to stride forward.
She took a step behind him, but her other hand was yanked so violently, it slid from his. Fox continued forward, unaware he’d lost her, because somebody else had taken her place. She called out to him, but the rowdy crowd drowned out her voice.
Iris spun around, looked up, and met the eyes of the tall man who’d been watching her when they’d first wandered into the crowd.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said in a heavily accented voice.
Chapter Twenty-Six
His frustration made him livid, but all Fox could do was continue to push against the crowd. Keep moving enough to stay only several steps behind the man who’d purchased Honey and her child. He kept his hand tightly gripped around Iris’s and found the pressure of her palm against his comforting. It took all the willpower he had to resist the urge to turn back and look at her. He’d been doing too much staring lately. The more he looked at her, the more he wanted her.
The craving inside intensified so much, he wanted to get this rescue over and done with so he could finally get Iris alone for longer than a few minutes. He secretly damned the time he’d wasted on sleep back at Rue’s place. He should’ve used the time to explore every inch of her body, taste every bit of her skin. Instead, they’d both slept. It had been the most peaceful sleep he’d ever had, but desire was starting to blur everything in his mind.
The only thing he wanted now was her. How the hell was he going to pull this thing off with his father? The thought of discussing his plan with Iris and having her partake in it crossed his mind. The opportunity to bring it up was still a ways away. He knew this rescue wasn’t going to go smoothly, because after they retrieved Honey, what would happen next?
Honey wanted to meet up with Professor Spalding, but he could be anywhere in the city. The slums were large and took up residence in almost every lower level of these spacious buildings. The only places with no poor living within their floors were the Wentworth and York Towers.
The man with the white hair ventured under the curtain, leading him back stage. Fox crossed it seconds after him.
“Now, when we get there, just stay calm, okay?” He turned around sharply to face Iris. He didn’t want her to lose her head too early.
A fist smacked him squarely in the jaw. He lost his balance, stumbled, and caught one of the curtains separating the stage from the rest of the room. The rip almost made him fall, but he steadied himself.
What the hell was that for?
Confused thoughts rammed against each other while Fox tried to figure out why Iris would hit him out of the blue and without provocation. For a second, his heart fell as he wondered if whatever violence gripped her was now slowly seeping out without prejudice.
“Iris?” His vision returned. The punch had literally made him see stars.
“My name isn’t Iris, but for the right amount of money, I can be whoever you want me to be,” a strange, feminine voice returned.
“What the hell?” He straightened, backed up a little, and stared at the woman who’d just let go of his hand. “Where’s Iris?”
“If that’s the pretty girl you had by the hand, I’m afraid someone else got her. She don’t belong to you no more. I can, if you want me to.” The woman winked and moved closer. “I know how to take care of a man.”
Panic buzzed inside his ears. How had it happened? How could he have had such a tight grip on Iris and then lost her in the dense crowd? The odds of finding her now were slim to none.
He took a step—determined to head back outside—but the woman stepped in front of him. She was taller than him by at least a head. Her clothes were dirty, the pants and top too tight around her heavily muscled body. She hit him in the side of the jaw a second time.
She was fast and as strong as an ox. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was really a woman at all.
“I don’t hit women, but if you don’t stop, I’m not going to have much of a choice.”
“Go ahead. Give me your best shot. It’ll just serve as foreplay.” She winked again. “Ivy likes her men roughened up a little before the fun part.”
He shook his head. “I’m not interested. Sorry.”
Ivy shrugged. “You don’t always have to be willing to have fun with me. I like a challenge. Besides, you’re too pretty to pass up. Someone gave me a nice round figure to take you out, so I’m the one who’s sorry.”
Fox released a strained sigh. His jaw throbbed from her punches, so he rubbed it. “Where’s Iris?”
“I told you. I don’t know.”
“Who paid you?”
Ivy shook her head. “I can’t reveal that information. Surely you know the rules in the slums. Now, show me what you’ve got. Hit me right here!” She pointed at her chin.
He couldn’t believe this. Not only had he lost Iris and was stuck with some randy, crazy, muscled freak, but he couldn’t follow the man who’d purchased Honey. He was royally screwed and seemed to have only one way to get out of this.
The next time Ivy struck, he ducked. He did the same a second and a third time. The anger contorted her already angular, ugly face. If she kept this up, she’d tire herself.
Just as he dove under another hit, Fox remembered the cans he had dangling from his side. How he’d forgotten about them was incredible, though understandable given the circumstances.
He pulled the bag over his head, and Ivy struck with a fist to his ribs. He whooshed a sigh of pain and backed up a few steps.
She didn’t waste a second and ran for him.
Fox hated to hurt a woman, but he still swung the bag full of cans at her face.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Let go of
me!” Iris made an attempt to yank her hand out of the vice-grip the tall man had her in but couldn’t shake him. “My friend will come back for me any minute now.”
She glanced nervously over her shoulder. No sign of Fox. The auctioneer was blabbing about the latest person forced to stand on the stage, like a piece of meat ready to be swallowed whole. Her heart hammered inside her chest. Anger had burned into a hot rage inside her, and she was finding it incredibly hard to keep a lid on it. If this man didn’t let her go soon, she was going to lose total control.
If that happened, he wouldn’t be the only one who’d be left to deal with her wrath. She knew what lay ahead if this threat superseded and consumed every inch of her soul.
Her hair already crackled with energy.
No! I have to stay in control.
A few people rubbed their arms. Others looked around to see where the discomfort scratching at their skin stemmed from. One man dared to ask, “Is everything all right?” His dark eyes were fixed on hers.
She shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
The tall man stopped him with an icy glare, tightening his hold on her. “Stay where you are. This is my daughter, and I don’t appreciate your interference.” Those gray eyes of his were uncanny—almost white—as he threatened the stranger who’d offered her a glimmer of hope.
The man looked at her one last time before turning his attention back to the stage. Maybe there were still a few good people left in this world, after all. The thought felt strangely comforting.
Her captor overpowered her in strength and height. For now.
He pulled her into an embrace and lowered his mouth near the top of her head. “Your friend has his own problems to deal with at the moment. You and I have some business to take care of. My wife tells me you’ve stolen from us.”
“Your wife?” Her sluggish mind struggled to process the accusation but came up empty. “I didn’t steal from anyone.”
Her heart sped up. Could this be about something she’d done in her past? Would this man unintentionally reveal a piece of history from her vacant mind?
“Oh, but you did. You stole with magic, and now you must pay me back.”
Her heart sank. This wasn’t about her past. She recalled the person who’d accused her of using magic and swallowed the lump in her throat. “I don’t have any credit.”
His eyes hardened as a wicked smile curved his thin lips. “Ah, this must be your lucky day, because I accept payment via other ways. There are so many things a pretty little thing like yourself could do to make up for stolen goods.” A thin tongue popped out between his lips. “You smell so good. I think I will enjoy devising a way to get payment for what you took.”
“I didn’t take anything,” she repeated, pulling on her arm.
“Oh, didn’t you?” a familiar voice asked.
Iris looked to the side and noticed the pudgy woman from the market now standing beside him. Her features were darkened by a deep frown, both arms crossed just below her ample bosom as she stared her down.
“You stole more than thirty cans from my stall,” Roberta said with a small shake of her head. “You didn’t think I would let that go, did you?”
“My magic—”
The man tightened his hold on her arm with bone-crushing strength. She could feel the bruise already forming beneath his grip. “I’m not afraid of magic. My wife tells me you tried to fry her hand. She believes it was magic, but I don’t believe in such a petty lie. You somehow manipulated the energy around you to make it seem that way. It’s all science.”
Roberta shook her head. “It was magic. I saw the glint in her eyes.”
“Shut up, woman. Why are you here, anyway? Who is tending to our stall?” His attention temporarily shifted as he glared at his wife.
Iris tried to use the distraction to squirm her arm from his grip, but he held on so tightly, she couldn’t move or take a single step back. He crushed her up against his hard, bony chest.
“The stall is closed for now. I sold every can I had left after the ones she stole.” A sheen of sweat collected near Roberta’s hairline. “I have to fetch some more. Just thought I’d stop in to see if you’d purchased anyone, that’s all.” She licked her lips. “I’m really hungry today.”
He smiled at her, a gentle caring smile appearing out of nowhere. One second, the malice was sharp enough to slice. The next, he only had warmth for his wife. “Of course you did. I’m sorry, Roberta. So far, this little bundle of beauty is the only thing that’s wet my appetite.”
“She would make a great addition to our household.”
“Yes, she would. Now, get back to it, and I’ll see you at home in a few hours. I believe we’ll have a lot to celebrate.” He lowered his mouth near Roberta’s ear and whispered loud enough for Iris to hear, “Maybe she’ll help us in our celebration.”
Roberta nodded, leered at Iris, and blended into the crowd, disappearing from sight.
“I’ve got such plans for you, my little thief.”
Iris glared into the man’s icy eyes, wanting to smash that smile right off his face. Instead, she gritted her teeth. “I’m not a thief. You’re the one who takes from people who can’t afford—” A hard slap to her left cheek shut her up. Her teeth rattled. The white hot sting of the force behind it spread instantly, but she refused to rub it away. Or let the tears—which collected in her eyes almost instantly—fall. There would be no satisfaction for this mean man.
“As long as you belong to me, you will be whatever I call you. Do you understand?” His grip tightened to the point of blocking off the blood circulation in her arm. “Do you understand?”
She bit her tongue and nodded. This wasn’t going to be as fast and easy a getaway as she’d first hoped. The buzz of energy within had faded. Her hair sat limp over her shoulders, tangled but lifeless. Whatever connection had temporarily appeared was now gone.
Iris closed her mind off to the activity of people raising their hands and bidding on more captured innocents. The constant chanting, laughter, and conversation all faded to silence. Still, she couldn’t hear the rain, couldn’t feel the lightning slicing the sky in half.
What had happened? Was her distress blocking everything off? Maybe this putrid man trying to pull her toward the other side of the room was causing the interference. So, she anchored her feet against the harsh ground beneath her. I’m not going to let him take me.
If she gave up and let him drag her out of this room, she might as well surrender her will to live. This crowded and public area was her last hope of salvation.
Iris couldn’t allow him the upper hand. There were so many things she had to do, and she wasn’t about to let this bastard get in her way. Honey was still behind the stage, waiting for someone to pay off the Weasels and take her home. If the transaction was completed, no one would willingly provide any clues to lead her back to Honey and Basil. They’d be lost forever in some part of the city.
Then there was Fox. Her heart ached at the thought of never seeing him again. In spite of all the things she still didn’t know about him, she still wanted him. Being by his side had become second nature, comfortable.
“Good, I’m glad you understand me. I don’t like my pets to be stupid. The sooner you accept that you’re mine, the better things will work out for you.”
Iris nodded a second time. No need to argue. She’d do the only thing she was positive she could do—fight.
He grabbed a strand of her hair, and she cringed. “Let’s get out of here. I expected to have to pay today, but a freebie is always so much more fulfilling.”
The rage Iris thought she’d lost suddenly coiled inside her stomach in response to his touch. His rough fingers caught in her tangled hair when he wrapped them around the back of her neck. A look of satisfaction spread over his face.
Her connection to the outside world remained severed, but all she needed was a tiny buzz.
She closed her eyes for a second.
When she opened them again, her would-be captor stared at her, his mouth gaping, eyes wide and filled with fear.
“What the hell’s going on?” he whispered as he dropped his grip on her and took a step back. His fingers pulled her hair as they slid away, taking a few strands with them.
She took a step, continuing to move until he hit the wall, and there was nowhere else for him to go. Even now, he towered over her, but somehow still managed to cower. Iris relished the sensation of reversed power.
“I don’t belong to you,” she said in that gravelly voice anger always managed to rouse. Long strands of dark hair flew around her face, as if an invisible wind was blowing. One only she could see and feel.
“Okay, fine. You don’t belong to me. I’ll pretend we never met, pretend none of this happened.”
“What did you do to my friend?”
“I didn’t do anything to him.”
She gritted her teeth. Both fists were at her sides, shaking because she wanted to hit him so badly. “Where is he?” Soon, she’d have no choice but to give into the violence.
“Okay, okay.” The man lost a lot of his height as he pressed his cowardly spine against the wall. “I paid someone to take your place at his hand, so I could grab you. I just had to have you…there’s something about you that called out to me.”
She shook her head. “I don’t call out to demented cowards.”
“Please, just go. If you hurry, you’ll probably still be able to meet up with him and continue on your way.”
Iris sucked in a breath. As pathetic as this man was, he was right. If she didn’t waste any more time, she could turn around and head backstage to catch up to both Fox and Honey. Time was of the essence. She had no idea how long she’d already wasted with this jerk.
As much as she wanted to drive her fists into his face—or watch his blood spill—Iris decided to walk away. If she killed him now, she would only drawn attention to herself and have more blood on her hands.
Iris Page 16
