by Lyra Evans
With a heavy sigh and a shake of his head, Cobalt met him at the door. “You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met,” he said.
“Thanks,” Niko said, opening the door.
“It was not a compliment.”
“Agree to disagree,” Niko shot.
“Must you always have the last word?” Cobalt asked.
“Yes.”
The elevator doors dinged, and just before they opened, Cobalt leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Perhaps I’ll just have to gag you with my cock in your mouth.” The doors opened, revealing the operator, and Niko found himself speechless and a little hot. Cobalt laughed, pushing him into the elevator. “So that’s the answer. Noted.”
Chapter 27
The sound stage wasn’t marked by any company designation. The logo of Noor Juniper’s production company was nowhere to be seen. The entrance was identified only by the armed security guards standing on either side of a massive chain-link gate. There was nothing outwardly suspicious about this—many companies with warehouses or factories in the area hired twenty-four–hour security. When the car dropped Cobalt and Niko off in front of the gates, however, Niko noticed a few details that were unusual for a property like this. There were runes inscribed into the base poles of the fence gate, and as they approached, Niko could feel the shimmer of magic on the air. The warding was new and very powerful. And it would likely be removed by Monday.
The guards were non-descript, wearing black uniforms with no company designation on them. Bulky vests beneath their shirts told Niko they wore tactical vests to stop bullets and most knife attacks, but the subtly embroidered patterns along the seams of their shirts told Niko they wore runes to protect against magical attacks as well. Each guard—both men nearly as tall as Cobalt and wide enough to be imposing without trying—wore black sunglasses, despite the late hour, and an earpiece. They had semi-automatic weapons holstered at their hips and civilian-grade cuffs affixed to their belts. The only thing setting them apart from one another was their hair colour. One had canary yellow hair, the other had salmon pink.
“ID,” one guard said, no question, no politeness. Cobalt’s stony expression hardened further, but he pulled out his ID and indicated Niko should do the same. Once the cards were presented and adequately scrutinized, the guard handed them both back. “Thank you, Mr. Snyder, Sir. Please, follow the route inside to the right-hand lobby.”
He gave a shallow bow now that Cobalt had proven his identity, and Cobalt nodded shortly back at him. Pushing Niko ahead of him, Cobalt passed through the opening in the gate. Niko glanced back as they progressed and saw the glimmering outline of the warding, visible only from the inside. Like a sheet of green glass hanging in the air between the guards and the street, it was the kind of warding that marked every entry and exit of the premises. Which meant that even if Niko sent a message to the Captain or Uri via the green candy, the warding would note it. And if someone was watching closely, they would be alerted to it.
The building ahead was unremarkable but for the gentle light emitting from the perimeter of the main door. The outer walls were washed in beige stucco, the architecture plain and functional. Vents dotted the exterior near the roof like a strange, steel grey crown. Beyond the vents and the door, Niko couldn’t see any other distinguishing feature to the exterior. He supposed there were windows along another side where the office and green room were, but it was also possible there were not. As they approached the entrance door, Niko wondered what the Woods had done to the entrance on the other side of the building.
When Niko came within a foot of the door, it swung slowly open, revealing a short entry space bathed in soft white light. There was a black carpet extending inward from the door, but from outside, Niko couldn’t discern what it led to. There was nothing beyond the white light.
With the barest glance at Cobalt, Niko stepped over the threshold. Immediately, magic enveloped him and set into his skin, tingling like hot spring water. He inhaled sweet air perfumed with something vaguely floral and opened his eyes to the lobby of the event.
The black carpet rolled out into the main room, curving and turning to mark the circuit of the various tables set up to welcome guests. Some kind of coat check service was the first table to Niko’s left, staffed by two Fae with the distinct whiff of security hanging about them. They wore the same nondescript black on black uniforms as the guards, though they did not seem equipped with weapons or protective vests.
“May I take your electronics?” one of the Fae asked Niko and Cobalt.
Niko stopped and shared a glance with Cobalt. He played it off as though he was asking permission, but the idea put Niko on edge. Would there be some kind of magical security check to ensure he’d handed everything over? Would his earring register as dangerous in some way? It was neither electronic nor a weapon, but it certainly would read as magical if they had installed the correct runes. Yet a cursory glance around the room revealed no magical readers to scan guests. Niko tried to relax.
Cobalt pulled out his alias’s cellphone and handed it over. The woman took it, placing it in a black box that she sealed immediately with a hand to the top. Then she plucked off a simple black band and handed it to Cobalt.
“For you to retrieve it later,” she explained. She looked at Niko expectantly, but Cobalt shut that down.
“He doesn’t carry any electronics unless I instruct him to,” he explained. The woman seemed unfazed by this and simply nodded.
Cobalt placed the black bracelet around his wrist, and he urged Niko onward, past the end of the electronics check table and into the hall proper. Tables stood around the edges of the room, adorned with crystal glasses and staff behind them, ready to pour out whatever a guest required. There were appetizers and finger foods on other tables, as well as being served by more staff with expressionless faces and black uniforms.
And everywhere in between were the wealthy and powerful of the Three Courts. As Niko cast an eye over the room, he spotted no faces so famous or powerful it would topple the Courts to reveal them—Maeve and her royal counterparts were nowhere to be seen, thank the Trees—but there were other faces Niko recognized. Heads of business and investments, a spattering of celebrities, and Courtiers of various levels brushed elbows and chatted over flutes of champagne and sparkling cocktails. They wore gowns of glittering fabrics on the cutting edge of fashion and suits and tuxes of such luxury they might have been attending an awards show rather than an auction to buy people.
Niko felt his stomach churn, a burning hatred searing at the edges of his organs, but he swallowed it down. There was no one he recognized from the justice department yet, so at least there was that.
“Cobb, there you are,” a voice interrupted. Turning to find Preston, Niko noticed that Preston’s outfit was merely the more formal version of what he’d worn the previous night. He sported a black tuxedo over a deep purple shirt. His hair was swept back in a falsely careless style that gave him a roguish look Niko was sure made people weak at the knees. “You do cut a figure, all dressed up, don’t you?” he said, taking Cobalt in. “But I thought you would bring your little—” As if only just noticing Niko, Preston’s eyes lit up with a ravenous fire. Niko schooled his expression, careful to remain neutral despite the way his skin crawled. “Ah, Kilo? You certainly clean up nicely too.” In a conspiratorial voice, he said to Cobalt, “He’s just edible, isn’t he? How do you keep your hands off him?”
Cobalt gave Niko a sidelong look, appraising him without effort. “He is rather trying on the will power,” Cobalt agreed. Something flashed in Niko. Not like the visions he’d been afflicted by before, this was more sensory than imagined. He could almost feel Cobalt drawing his hands up and down Niko’s body, his teeth on Niko’s neck, and his erection nestled against Niko’s ass. Heat coiled through his body, and Niko blinked slowly, allowing the heat to show in his expression.
Preston made an appreciative sound. “You best keep a keen eye on him, if you’re intent to keep hi
m. I’m sure you’ll have more than a few offers on him by the end of the night.” He paused. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about sharing?”
The heat in Niko cooled suddenly, the thought of being bought and sold here, to these people, chilling him. Cobalt shook his head. “Afraid not, Preston,” he said. “My pet here is one of a kind. But should I ever find another, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Well, I do look forward to seeing you really put him through his paces tonight,” Preston said, still eyeing Niko. Niko felt his muscles twitch subtly, working to keep his face neutral. “Unless you mean to perform using one of the delicacies we have on offer?”
Cobalt’s eyebrows drew slightly together, his eyes narrowing in confusion. “I don’t follow,” he said.
Preston seemed surprised. “Surely you were told you must perform for the other guests as a newcomer?” he asked. At Cobalt’s expression, he went on, “Oh, well that was an oversight. You did so well at The RACK, I thought it obvious, I suppose. Nevertheless, you are free to choose one of the models on offer for your show, but I’m hoping you’ll use Kilo here. I am eager to see what he can take.”
The leer in Preston’s eyes burrowed beneath Niko’s skin, as though flaying him. The atmosphere intensified, and Niko was sure if Cobalt let him out of his sight for a second, Preston would pounce, permission or not. Niko took his time looking over at Cobalt, offering him the same question in his own eyes, as though wondering what Cobalt might choose.
“The idea of playing with a new toy is certainly enticing,” Cobalt said, his eyes on Niko only. As Cobalt held his gaze, Niko felt the rest of the room disappear, everyone with it. He calmed down, the Soul Stone in his chest pulsing a soothing beat. “But if a show is what you’re interested in, I think Kilo is the best choice. He does know how to put on a scene.”
He reached out and cradled Niko’s face with his palm, brushing his thumb roughly over Niko’s lower lip. Niko flicked out his tongue to taste Cobalt’s thumb, and Preston looked more like a Wolf in that moment than Niko had yet seen. He was feral in the eyes, his teeth suddenly sharp.
“Excellent,” Preston said. “Come, I must introduce you to some friends and show you around.” He stopped a passing waiter and lifted three glasses of champagne from the tray. He offered one to Cobalt and held another out for Niko, though his eyes were on Cobalt. “He can indulge tonight, can’t he?” Cobalt nodded once at Niko, and Niko took the glass. The crystal reflected light so beautifully it was as though they’d carved a flute out of diamond. Niko tipped the rim to his mouth, sniffing it first before drinking. It smelled normal to him, though his senses were not as powerful as Preston’s, so he took a sip. The fruity, citrus notes of the champagne hit Niko first, but there was a subtle vanilla finish. He waited for any magical effects to take hold, but nothing happened. Perhaps it was an intentional choice to keep the drinks magic-free. It followed from confiscating cellphones, he supposed. The Woods clearly wanted the guests to feel as safe as possible, unaffected by outside influences, when surrounded by fellow criminals.
Niko followed along as Preston moved from group to group, introducing Cobalt to other guests he deemed worthwhile. Why he had taken such a shining to Cobalt was something Niko intended to find out. Was there some kind of advantage to recommending new clients? Did Preston gain some kind of reward for this? Like some appalling store loyalty card or discount? Did he make some kind of commission on any of Cobalt’s purchases? Or was there something else at work in his behaviour?
He introduced Niko several times in an offhand way; he accomplished this without sounding dismissive or belittling, which Niko found curious. Most of the other guests had no interest in Niko but for his appearance. The moment Cobalt—or, more often, Preston—told them Niko was not for sale, they turned their attention away. Not one of the wealthy guests sought to start a conversation with Niko or ask anything of him. He was quite literally a pet, like a cute dog to be patted and then ignored.
As infuriating as it was, it was also beneficial. Niko spent his time absorbing information. He glanced around the room as often as he could, taking in details of the exits and entrances, of the vent locations and the emergency equipment, a requirement in any facility of this kind. He also did his best to memorize faces and names. He had every intention to make a record number of arrests this weekend. He’d take down every one of these pompous miscreants if it meant upending the whole class system of Maeve’s Court.
But as Preston showed them around and made his introductions, Niko came to notice a particular problem. None of the people milling about the lobby of the building seemed to be victims. There were no Selkies that Niko could see, but neither were there Fae or Witches or Wizards or Werewolves with their bodies on display, charming guests and allowing themselves to be used and abused. From what he’d seen so far, Niko would call this more of a cocktail party than an auction.
“Oh, you’ll have to throw a grand opening and invite us all when you launch in Maeve’s Court, Cobb,” a Fae woman with pale orange hair told Cobalt. She wore a number of gold and platinum chains around her neck connected with tiny handcuffs. “I do love finding new restaurants before the masses catch on.”
“Speaking of unusual fare,” another woman said. She was a Witch with doe-brown hair in a pixie cut. Her eyes were sharp, and her thin fingers were encrusted with diamonds and obsidian and sapphires, but for one thick, unadorned gold band on her middle finger. “Preston, darling, where are the hosts? Normally we’d be scoping out our picks by now.”
“Yes, instead we’ve only each other’s miserable company to entertain us,” Redwood interjected with a laugh. The others around the circle chuckled pleasantly at his joke, and Niko searched his mind for a happy place where he could ignore the sheer absurdity around him.
“Patience, my friends,” Preston said. “We’ve needed to do things a bit differently this time, for security reasons. We’ll have a little parade, if you will, once we’re all settled in our rooms, just before the main show.” He gave Cobalt a meaningful look.
Before anyone could answer, a gentle chiming sounded, drawing the attention of the guests. Niko searched for the source of the chime but found none. A voice spoke once the chiming was done, but Niko couldn’t locate the source of that either. It spoke as though from everywhere and nowhere, almost as though it was inside Niko’s head.
“Dear gathered guests, we would like to welcome you all and thank you for your patience. We invite you to make your way into the main hall now and locate your assigned rooms. You may settle in and get comfortable in your accommodations for the weekend. A short demonstration of the products available for purchase this weekend will begin shortly, followed by the main show for the evening. An announcement will be made when the performers are ready. We sincerely hope you enjoy your stay.”
Niko searched everyone’s faces for some indication of who was instructing people. The voice, however, had not been familiar, and no one among the guests seemed fazed by the disembodied nature of it. Once it was done speaking, a pair of wide doors opened of their own accord near the centre of the lobby. A black carpeted path unfurled before them, guiding the way to the main hall.
Cobalt steered Niko by the shoulder in front of him as they moved with the crowd. There was a short corridor beyond the doors, drenched in shadow, that opened up quickly to a massive, warehouse-like room. This, Niko guessed, was the main sound stage of the building. Wood beams carved out a skeletal ribcage for the room, rising from floor to the ceiling several stories above them. The walls between the beams were padded with insulation and covered with sound dampening cloth. Massive ventilation shafts emerged from the walls in curving pathways that led back out to the exhaust vents at the top of the building, a knot of silver serpents. Along the ceiling was a network of wooden pathways set up between the venting and lighting rigs carrying fixtures large enough to blanket the room in light and blot out any shadow. But the floor of the hall was set up very differently.
It was as thou
gh they built some kind of hotel-stadium hybrid. Temporary rooms were installed in single units stationed in a massive circle around the outer perimeter of the hall, then another circle, slightly inset from the first, presented more rooms. And again. Until, at the centre of the room, a large stage with a glass cube could be seen from every angle and every room. The stage was set low and surrounded by a sort of orchestra pit with chairs and small tables arranged around it. The cube in the centre of the stage was what caught Niko’s attention, though.
It was actually a bedroom. Furnished as though the glass walls were opaque as traditional walls, the room held a king-sized bed laid with plush black bedding and pillows. The four posts of the bed were equipped with various forms of bondage equipment, from handcuffs to ropes and silk ties, to heavy chains and Fae-made magical string. There was a bondage cross against the other wall, next to a large wardrobe inevitably filled with toys and weapons and anything else one could imagine for this kind of scenario. There were also, apparently, hooks along the ceiling of the cube as well as what appeared to be a campfire pit set into the ground to one side.
“You’re the newest members, so you’ll be on the main stage tonight, Cobb,” Preston said, appearing out of thin air to clap Cobalt on the shoulder. “You’ll perform a scene to the best of your ability with your lovely pet here, and then we’ll show you to your more private room for the weekend.”
“I see,” Cobalt said, gesturing for Niko to make his way down the pathway toward the stage. “And what equipment will I have at my disposal? I trust you stock a variety of choices.”
Preston favoured Cobalt with his wide, wolfish smile. “Oh, I don’t think you’ll be disappointed,” he said, walking along with them to give them a tour of the room. “There are, of course, the paddles and canes and crops one would expect. Standard but very effective tools. There are also some less traditional ones. A selection of the best chef’s knives in the Three Courts, several small firearms, a flamethrower, a lead sprinkler with various molten contents to choose from, heretic’s forks, and, should you worry about ending the fun too early, we have several items inscribed with runes. They cause all the pain and damage without the permanence. For instance, there’s a selection of knives that heal cuts and stab wounds an instant after they are inflicted. You’re also free to use your own magic and gemstones, if you choose.”
