***
“Stop fidgeting, you look nervous.” Mark’s whisper cut through the night, dragging me out of the black mood I had fallen into immediately upon leaving the house.
“See now, there’s a very good reason why I look nervous—I am.” And I wasn’t afraid to admit it.
Really, was there any reason for me not to be shaking in my dress shoes? Saying goodbye to Ashley for what could very well turn out to be the last time was doing a number on my already frayed nerves. Not that she suspected we might never see each other again after this night; at least, I didn’t think she had any clue that all was not well this evening. Far as any of us could tell, my little angel really thought we were all just going to a ball, that her mother was having her first date in a very long time. She had stood on the front porch, sandwiched between Bob and Marta, grinning her innocent little girl smile and waving like mad, even running to the edge of the porch when we had reached the end of the yard and were nearly out of view to the trio chosen to stay behind and wait for our return.
Lord, God, just let us return—preferably in one piece, I prayed, putting one foot in front of the other. Not that the task required much focus; the night that felt black as sin was in fact a star-strewn landscape that seemed to stretch endlessly before us. Even in the thickest part of the forest, the moonlight seemed to filter through the canopy of trees overhead to light our path. With Mark walking solidly by my side, it would have made for an incredibly romantic scene. Except for the bombs strapped to my thighs like garter belts gone horribly wrong, and the fact that we were not alone by any stretch of the imagination. Even though we couldn’t see them, I was all too aware of the hundreds of pairs of eyes in the trees and on the ground. The fairies would guard us every step of the way from the woods near Bob’s house clear to Oxborough. There were soldiers on the ground too, I knew, although I was unable to make out any of them either. Seventy-five percent of our guard was armed, and heavily so. Aries, armed with a wicked-looking blade, would trail us as far as Oxborough’s border; after that, she would fall back and help coordinate the soldiers who had been assigned to phase two of our mission.
“Do you think this will really work?” I whispered.
“If we can get into that party, then yes. If not…” He shrugged without slowing our pace.
“If not?” I prompted.
“We need to get into that party, let’s just leave it at that.”
“Damn.”
“Hey.” His hand tightened on mine. “We can do this.”
“Right,” I nodded, smiling in the dark. “We’re almost there, aren’t we?” I hoped so at least. Anything over a mile in heels was insane, and I knew darn well the distance between Grandview and Oxborough was a lot more than a mile. But maybe we were nearing the end of our journey, since it felt like we had been on our feet forever and a day.
“About another mile and a half.”
“Ugh,” I moaned, slumping a little.
“If you had let me carry you in the first place, you wouldn’t be in so much pain right now, Claire,” he pointed out.
“No, I can walk.” I hoped.
“You can take your shoes off on the way back,” he offered, obviously trying to be helpful. “After we finish our business, it won’t matter if your feet get dirty.”
“Remind me again why we couldn’t take the car.” At least partway.
“Because,” he responded with considerable patience. “Cars make noise, and we don’t want to be seen.”
“I know.” I couldn’t quell the sigh that rose from deep within. “I’ll stop whining now.”
“You will not,” he snorted.
“Shut up, Mark.”
He acknowledged the thinly veiled threat behind my words with a toss of his head and a chuckle, and we kept walking. And walking. And walking some more until finally, thankfully, we reached the edge of the forest. I could see the cobblestone streets of the town and a large building at the end of the street. It looked curiously like an enormous warehouse that was lit up like an airstrip and surrounded by several smaller, considerably less well-lit outbuildings.
“Is that it?”
“That’s it. Behold the annual masquerade ball. Lydia owns all of those buildings.”
“They don’t look like much,” I commented, eyes darting around, scanning every inch of our new surroundings.
“The smaller structures probably aren’t. Those are mostly glorified guard shacks. But the main building is supposed to look as grand as any mansion, inside at least. You need a minute to rest?”
“No.”
“Sit down anyway. You’re limping.”
“You’d be limping too if you had just hiked a million miles in high heels,” I grumbled, but sat carefully on a nearby tree stump anyway. Mark was right; it wouldn’t do at all for me to walk into the ball with a noticeable limp, not when details meant everything tonight. We couldn’t afford to arouse even the slightest suspicion. Not only would we have no hope of getting past the front door, chances were good that we’d be killed on the spot and quietly disposed of. That wouldn’t stop the rest of our massive team from carrying out their part of the plan, but it would up their danger tenfold. And it wouldn’t make us any less dead. I shuddered, jumped to my feet, and took a few test steps, sans limp. All of a sudden, I was too keyed up to remain motionless. I wanted to get this over with, no matter the outcome, if for no other reason than the anticipation and the sense of doom hanging over my head were becoming unbearable.
“We can take more time, if you need it. Not much, of course, but we’ve got a few minutes.”
I could feel Mark’s eyes on me in the relative gloom that seemed to hang over the town, tangible even here at the edge. I shivered, though the night was not especially cool. That Mark would allow me ample rest time was obvious, but still, the desire to run was strong, and becoming more so by the minute.
No, it was best to get in, get out, and get the hell out of dodge.
“Let’s do this.”
Mark’s assessment of my bold statement lasted maybe another second before he finally nodded and silently took my clammy hand in his gloved one. A glance over my shoulder reassured me that we weren’t alone. I would have liked to think we would have been so brave as to undertake a mission like this even with just the two of us; after all, right was right and evil would always be there, waiting to be conquered by brave souls. Although I really didn’t consider myself brave, even knowing that there was an ever growing number of people who would have disagreed wholeheartedly with my self-assessment.
We walked along the all but deserted cobblestone streets of the town, and the click of my heels echoed back at me every step of the way.
“Where are all the people?” I whispered. I could have spoken the question at a normal volume, but on this particular night, Oxborough had a hushed, doom and gloom feel that seemed to permeate everything it touched, my own voice included. A rather dim backdrop for a lavish ball, unless you really stopped to consider the amount of sin that was slated to go on this night, the sheer magnitude of evil that was housed, for one night only, under one roof.
“Anyone who’s not already at the ball is smart enough to stay home tonight.”
“Except us.” I tried to smile.
“Hurry along now, Alia, we wouldn’t want to miss the first waltz.” Mark’s voice rose a few notches as two burly guards emerged from around the side of the small wood and tin outbuilding that stood closest to the main house. The two men stepped out of the shadows and I forced my breathing to slow, despite the fact that they paid us little attention aside from a cursory glance at our formal attire. Either they weren’t running very tight security around the place or they had quickly determined that we posed no threat. I supposed it would be too much to hope for the first option.
We made our way to the front door of the main house and I, for one, was astonished to find that it looked more like a house door than the typical utilitarian steel fram
e door one would expect to find in a warehouse. This door was constructed of thick solid wood and bleached a warm golden color that reminded me of honey. The night seemed to be full of surprises, I reflected, taking in the two guards that stood posted like sentinels at the entrance. These two were no less ugly than the pair we’d just passed on the sidewalk, but they were considerably more suspicious of Mark and me. Oh please, just let us in…
“Halt. State your business.”
Damn. “Why, we’re here for the ball,” I trilled, doing what I considered to be a fairly good impression of a high society lady. Moron number one didn’t look impressed.
“Good evening.” Mark inclined his head. “I am Lord Rothington and this is Lady Halsting. We have come to discuss a little business with the woman who runs this fine operation. And of course, to attend the ball.”
“What business do you have with mistress Lydia?” Moron number two was obviously skeptical. Not that I could really blame him—we were lying, after all.
“My companion and I run a highly successful brothel near the coast.”
“Well…” Both men wavered.
“Are we to stand on the street like beggars all evening?” Mark demanded.
“I am appalled, just appalled.” My voice rose the several notches required to play the part of an affronted queen-of-the-manor type, though the feat was not difficult. Just when I thought I would pass out from nerves, the real live queen of the manor appeared at the front door.
Lydia was stunning in—what else—her signature scarlet body-hugging gown. The hem swept the floor and the bodice was cut so slow that she looked like she was forever on the verge of a wardrobe malfunction. She shooed the guards aside with little more than a toss of her regal head before turning wide green eyes upon us.
“What seems to be the problem here?”
“We’ve come to attend the ball and speak to the mistress called Lydia,” Mark informed her, pretending to have no idea who she was.
“I run this establishment.”
“You’re Lydia?”
“I am.” Her eyes ran up and down the length of his form in a slow perusal that made my skin crawl.
“I didn’t realize you were such a lovely woman.” He bowed low before extending his hand. “My name is Lord Rothington, and may I introduce my companion and business partner, Lady Alia Halsting. We’ve come from Coztal to make your acquaintance.”
“Business partner?” Lydia graced us with a slow smile, though her eyes remained fixed on Mark.
“That’s right,” I said, then nodded, holding her gaze for a second when her eyes flicked to my own.
“You’re a long way from home,” she observed, inspecting me from head to toe. “What sort of business are you in?”
“Word of the annual masquerade ball has reached the coast. According to rumor, it’s an event that’s not to be missed. Lord Rothington and I run a brothel, the largest in Coztal. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”
“A fellow business woman like myself, then.” Her lips curved in a sultry smile as she leaned closer to me. I fought to stay composed under her stare. Would she recognize me? I thought not. I knew that tonight I didn’t look a thing like the bedraggled, bruised, and dirt-covered girl she’d seen a year ago at another auction.
“We’ve come to discuss a business arrangement that could be very…beneficial, to both of us,” Mark broke in.
“Have you now? Do tell.”
“Lady Halsting and I are considering a merger, a partnership if you will, and we understand you run the largest operation in this region.”
“Well then, good evening and welcome to the ball. I do hope the security hasn’t given you too much trouble.”
“Thank you,” we both responded automatically.
“Come in then and have a drink. The main event is just getting underway,” she confided, ushering us over the threshold and into the house. “The auction. But have a drink first and then, if you will, we can discuss a little business.”
As we stepped fully into the room, I nearly stumbled on my heels. So engrossed was I in my new surroundings, I was barely aware of the door being closed behind us. Lydia plucked two flutes of sparkling blue liquid from a passing tray and offered them to Mark and me with a satisfied smile that bordered on smug.
“I see you admire the finer things in life, too.”
“This is…wow, this is truly something,” I managed, and meant every word. The house was spectacular and looked nothing like its plain exterior. Mansion didn’t even begin to convey the rich, glittering opulence that surrounded us at that moment. Expensive-looking crystal lighting hung from the high polished ceilings and reflected shards of light across an equally polished dark wood floor. “Are those real diamonds?” I asked, figuring that they were; diamonds weren’t a rare commodity here, although they were still considered lavish and somewhat expensive. It was too bad we were going to blow it sky high in less than an hour.
“Yes, they are,” Lydia preened.
What’s in the glass was my second question, but I hesitated to voice it and look like the novice that I was. Instead, I caught Mark’s eye and let my gaze rest meaningfully on his glass. Only when he smiled and raised his own drink to his lips did I taste mine. Champagne, I thought, feeling the cool rush almost instantly. Not bad, and certainly prettier than its amber-hued cousin.
A man in a jeweled mask came up behind us to put a hand under Lydia’s arm, and she left us then with instructions to drink, dance, and enjoy the party. She would be back later on in the evening—before the auction, I presumed—to discuss business.
“Would you care to dance, my lady?”
“Oh yes indeed,” I murmured, taking Mark’s outstretched hand and letting him lead me to the crowded dance floor. Really, the entire main level appeared to be a dance floor. A few heavily made up women stood against the wall, and several elegantly dressed gentleman could also be found on the outskirts of the large space that I guessed to be a living room or maybe a hugely oversized parlor. The rest of the occupants were paired on the dance floor, and all were decked out in formal attire. Most wore facemasks that glittered under the light from the chandeliers, but there were a few, like us, that sported bare faces. The men all danced with women who wore barely decent gowns and looked like pale replicas of Lydia. The girls were working tonight, then.
“We’re in.”
Mark’s whispered statement was warm against my ear and I closed my eyes for a second, wishing us to be anywhere else in the world, wishing for more time. A little privacy would have been nice too.
“What’s next?” I spoke the words against his throat.
“We dance, then we head upstairs.”
“What’s upstairs?”
“I have no idea.”
“Oh.” Wonderful.
And so it went. Around and around we twirled, weaving in and out among fellow couples. I stared from one face to the next; everyone glittered under the light from the cut prism diamonds of the chandelier.
But it was a facade. It was easier to see once I looked deeper than first glance. Most of the men’s eyes were over bright with anticipation and an emotion that I couldn’t name, but one that made my skin crawl just the same. Beneath the paint and the charm, I imagined that the women looked…resigned. They were harder to read than the men, though, so it was difficult to be certain.
Most everyone appeared to fall under the lull of the music that came seemingly from nowhere, and yet was everywhere. No one seemed to notice when, as the third waltz began, Mark and I slipped quietly away from the crowd and made our way up the wide curving staircase at the edge of the room. I smiled at some inane comment he made and moved a little closer to him, all the while keeping my expression light and playful, my steps unhurried. The most important thing was to blend in, to look as if we belonged wherever we happened to be at the moment. That was the trick to not getting caught up in our elaborate charade—to not arouse suspicion in the first place.
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We reached the landing, and Mark pulled me to a stop, pressing me into the wall at the top of the stairwell, and leaning in for a kiss that left me breathless. He pressed me into the wall at the top of the stairwell.
“What was that for?” I murmured.
“In case anyone below is watching, there’s no question of why we’re up here. And we’re likely to be left alone.”
“Oh.” I was disappointed. Not that it wasn’t a sensible plan.
“Don’t think I couldn’t stand here and do this all night,” he grinned, reading my thoughts.
“But we have a job to do—yeah, I know.” I smiled back, trying not to show any hint of unease at the reminder.
It wasn’t long before we figured out what the upstairs was used for. The sounds of budding passion could be heard from at least three of the six bedrooms that ran the length of the hallway. The opposite end of the second floor opened into a large room with books lining one wall and a large floral print sectional sofa taking up an entire corner of the room. The ceiling was mirrored.
“Now this—this is class.”
“Hah,” Mark snorted, making quick work of placing two bombs in the darkest corner. One he attached under the wide ledge of the windowsill, the other he simply slid beneath the couch.
“Hallway?”
“Two on this end. One by the bathroom and the other just before the stairwell.”
“Okay,” I nodded, slipping from the room and pretending to use the restroom, then walking softly down the carpeted hall, looking for the perfect spot. There, where the stair railing curved over the wall a mere six inches from the landing. I slid the tiny disk-like device under the rail, my finger pressing in the button that would activate the bomb.
Mark met up with me in the hall and we made our way across the entire second story of the house, taking care not to disturb the occupied rooms. By the time we were ready to make our way downstairs, enough charges had been placed to blow the entire roof from the house.
“Mark, look.” I paused at the end of the hall, pointing to a large rectangle in the ceiling.
“An attic,” he nodded.
“Should we…?”
“No. Although I would love to know what’s up there. But there’s no time.”
“Yeah, you’re right. That would be overkill anyway.”
“We’d better head downstairs now. The charges are set to blow in twenty minutes. We don’t have much time left.”
Oh Lord. “Right.” I swallowed, heading for the stairs, only to stop a second later. “Mark.”
He raised a brow, but said nothing.
“The women up here…” I shivered. “We have to get them out.” But we wouldn’t—perhaps couldn’t.
I knew that even before he confirmed it.
“There’s no time.”
“But—”
“They made their choices just like the rest of us, and we can’t blow our cover. Now let’s go.” His face took on a hard edge, the expression of the warrior I’d encountered on the mountain.
I took a deep breath. “No.”
“Claire, we don’t have time for this.”
“Make time.”
“I can’t.” He glared.
“I’m not leaving them here.” I took a deep breath and bit my lip before taking a step toward the occupied rooms. “I’ll stay with them, then.” I wouldn’t, and I was sure he knew it too. But I was hoping that he also knew how important this was to me. I hated the fact that I was putting his life in danger, but leaving these women up here to die, without any hope—well, it wasn’t right.
“I can’t save them.”
“Please,” I begged. Then, when he shook his head, I lifted my chin. “Fine, then I will.”
“Damn it.” He turned his back on the stairway and stalked to the first closed door.
I followed behind him and watched as he strode into the room and quickly put the man out of commission. He bound the man with a set of shoelaces and used bedding to create a gag. I spoke softly but swiftly to the wide-eyed woman, who sat frozen in the middle of the double bed.
“Please dress and rejoin the party downstairs as quickly as you can,” I told her in a soothing tone.
Mark had another method of persuasion. “Unless you want to die, you’ll tell no one what you saw here, is that clear?”
And so it went for the remaining two rooms at the end of the hall. Three men were tied up and gagged, unconscious, and three women hastened to rejoin the ball on the main floor of the house, terrified to speak to anyone about what they’d witnessed. I stared at the clock. Six minutes had elapsed. We had to hurry, and I said as much to Mark.
“Claire, wait.”
I turned back, raising one brow in question.
“I’m proud of you, tonight, and for what you just did, even if it ends up getting us killed and ruins our entire mission. And…I love you.”
“You…love me? Oh no. You’re doing this now? Oh my God, we’re going to die, aren’t we? That’s why you’re telling me this now.”
“Hey, hey, stop that,” he chided, both arms circling my waist until his hands rested at the small of my back. “We’re not going to die. Okay?”
“Uh-huh,” I murmured, thoroughly unconvinced. I kissed him anyway before we made our way down the stairs at a steady pace. “Hey.”
“Yeah?”
“I love you too.”
Four minutes later, we were casually strolling the wide porch that wrapped around the back of the house, shielded from the road and from prying eyes in general. There were very few guards posted out here, and only a smattering of other couples were out enjoying the night air. Most were inside dancing, and the excitement was a palpable thing now, for both Mark and myself, and the occupants of the ball.
They were excited because the famous, or infamous, auction was about to take place in five short minutes.
We were nervous as hell because we were running out of time. To the casual onlooker, I could only hope that we looked sexually frustrated, and not like a couple of party crashers who were up to no good.
“Oh, would you look at that moon?” Mark took my elbow and steered us toward the south end of the porch, near the guard shacks.
“Oh my. It’s so big and bright tonight. Perfect for a romantic evening, don’t you think?” I gushed, resting my head on his shoulder and sticking a disk below the waist-high porch railing.
“Mmm,” he agreed, idly fingering the smooth wooden rail before smiling down at me and nodding toward the double doors that would take us back into the ballroom. “I wonder if Lydia’s free to discuss a little business.”
“I don’t know,” I mused. “The auction starts in a few minutes.”
“All the more reason to find her now.”
As luck would have it, she found us nearly the instant we walked through the door.
“I trust you’re both enjoying yourselves?”
“Oh yes,” I was quick to assure our host. “We’re having a lovely time.”
“We were actually just coming to find you. We’re hoping to steal you away from your guests for a moment.”
“The auction is about to start. I had hoped to catch up to you a little earlier, but we can talk after, in my study.”
“That’s what we were hoping to speak with you about,” I hastily added, improvising as we made our way through the ballroom and into a much smaller room where men gathered together over cards and cigars.
“Oh?” She faced me, and I got the sense, once again, that she was looking into me somehow.
“Yes, the auction is a fine tradition, of course.” I thought fast, knowing that we would need access to the girls who were set to be sold to the highest bidder. That was the final phase of our plan, unless we wanted to leave them to be blown up, which we didn’t. “But we were hoping to teach the girls a quick little musical number,” I finished, smothering a groan. A musical number? It sounded pathetic even to my own ears. Mark,
bless him, didn’t move a muscle, but instead put on a smile and nodded next to me.
“A musical number?”
“A quick performance. It’s only a couple of steps really, and very erotic. In Coztal, it’s done for good luck.” I continued to bullshit, all the while praying my face wasn’t turning beet red. “Many believe it brings luck and good fortune to the auction.”
“Good fortune, hmmm…” That seemed to snag Lydia’s attention, as I’d hoped it would.
“It certainly showcases the girls’ assets,” Mark added with a wink.
“Yes, so if we may…”
“Oh, why not,” Lydia decreed, clapping her hands together and motioning for us to follow. “Can you do it in ten minutes?”
“Might we have the other girls as well?” I pointed to the large cluster of women who were lined up along the wall now that the dancing had come to an end. Three of the women stared at us with fearful expressions, but to my utter relief, it appeared that they had at least kept silent.
“Sure, why not. Go with them,” she addressed her staff.
“We only need a few minutes,” I told her, which was true enough. A glance at the clock told me that five minutes was all we had left to get the girls and get out before…bad things happened. Ignoring the cold, clammy feeling that washed over me, I followed Mark, who followed Lydia to a standard-sized white doorway at the rear of the house.
“The girls ready for the auction are gathered here in the kitchen,” she told us. “I’ll go and tell our guests that we’re in for a special performance tonight. Try not to take too long.”
She was gone. Mark tapped his wrist once as we pushed through the door and came face to face with what had to be a hundred girls. The message was clear enough. We were running out of time and would have to be quick.
The girls looked to range in age from preteen to maybe eighteen or nineteen. Young. All wore expressions of fear and mistrust in varying degrees. Most were holding it together fairly well, I thought, all things considered. I had been in their shoes and understood full well the fear and uncertainty they were feeling right then.
“Fucking hell,” Mark swore, and I spun around.
“Sweetheart, come here. It’s okay.” He was down on one knee, speaking slowly and calmly to a girl half hidden by a tall, thin brunette teenager. The child looked to be about eight or nine. Maybe. I cringed, disgusted to the depths of my soul. Focus on the child, I told myself. Think of her, see her, memorize every detail of her face. Don’t think about the nameless, faceless people in the other room. Remember what the monsters did to Aries. What they would surely do to the child Mark was trying to coax…to the rest of these girls, many undoubtedly stolen from their families. It had to stop. Tonight. Now.
“Okay, ladies,” I began when the last of the women from the parlor had filtered into the kitchen to stand with those waiting for the auction, addressing the large crowd while Mark picked up the skittish and terrified child. “Listen up and listen good. There are bombs—explosives—rigged all over this property. You all have,” I paused, “three minutes to get out and away from this house before it blows. Does that door lead to the backyard?” I nodded toward the back of the kitchen. Heads nodded.
“Great. Stay quiet, everyone, and go out that door. Run until you reach the edge of the forest. Don’t stop, don’t look back. There will be people waiting there to help you. Run straight back. Do not run by the guard shacks.”
“Two minutes, Claire.”
“Shit. Let’s go, people, and stay—”
The stampede of screaming girls was deafening.
“Quiet,” I finished lamely. “Shit, damn, hell!”
“Claire!”
“I’m sorry!” I yelled back.
“Not that! Let’s get out of here!” Mark shouted back, shoving a heavy mobile counter that was covered in crystal flutes toward the door, blocking, at least temporarily, anyone from entering the kitchen.
Blue liquid spilled from the delicate stemmed cups and sloshed over the rims of the ones that hadn’t been overturned onto the floor. I watched for a second as though frozen in place.
Then my mind seemed to scream one minute left! in panic. We ran, following the shrieking girls into the night, ignoring the shouts of guards that were running around the side of the house. Aries, ever true to her word, along with the other fairies, began to pick them off one by one from the edge of the forest. Soldiers emerged from the dark woods and were hastily ushering girls deeper into the forest, to safety.
We reached the trees edge just as the night burst into flames behind us. Everyone stopped to watch as bits and pieces of wood splintered and windows shattered. The guard shacks, the main house…all of it gone, along with its mistress.
Aries walked toward us, stopped at the edge of the yard, and watched it burn for a full minute before nodding and walking away.
“Let’s get these girls back to the shelter.”
“And the little one?” I indicated the little girl who stared, transfixed by the flames and thick black smoke that curled into the night.
“We should take her with us. For tonight at least. Until we can figure out where she belongs,” he sighed, shifting around to block the wreckage from her direct line of sight.
“Good plan,” I nodded, slipped off my shoes, and with a final look back at the damage we had wrought, followed our group into the forest.