He was in the front row, and only visible as the people between us just happened to be seated in a way that — with him turned around — we had an unimpeded line of sight with each other. Before, he had just been the back of a head.
He studied me with a quizzical grin, breaking the unspoken protocol of sitting respectfully and staring towards the auctioneer. He casually flung his paddle up like he was tossing a pair of dice in a back-alley bet, never shifting his gaze from mine.
But his smile did stretch, seeming to challenge me.
I felt my face flush with heat, but I was almost confident that nothing showed.
Claire had gone very still beside me. We were still well under the hundred-thousand-dollar mark that Roland had anticipated I would have to pay if I played my cards right — maintaining my illusion of boredom and a lack of any real interest in the item. I held his gaze, feeling a sudden stubborn streak as I raised my paddle, and before I knew it, I spoke loud enough for all to hear.
Because the room had gone deathly silent as soon as the green-eyed devil had bid.
“One hundred thousand.” The words rolled off my tongue without conscious thought, and Claire flinched subtly.
The man’s eyes sparkled at the sudden game. Exactly what I didn’t want.
But a new face caught my attention. The hazel-eyed gentleman who had thought he knew me as his friend, Constance. “One hundred fifty thousand,” he said, raising his paddle. I turned back to the green-eyed man with a scowl, as if it were all his fault, but in reality, I knew it was mine. I had shown too much interest by suddenly bumping it up to six figures. The green-eyed devil arched a brow at me, as if encouraging me to beat the old man.
“Two hundred,” I said boldly, and felt Claire’s fingers squeeze my thigh like a vise.
“What are you doing?” she hissed under her breath.
“Winning,” I said, not turning to look at her.
“Quarter of a million,” the green-eyed man grinned, looking very interested in the unexpected game he saw before him. I deflated, thinking furiously. I knew I could hit that amount, but that was already much higher than Roland had anticipated, and I didn’t want to draw ire by bidding higher than I knew I could afford. Roland had been adamant that we could cover it, but he hadn’t shared a number with me, and I wasn’t about to make the church look a fool by suddenly writing a check they couldn’t — or wouldn’t — cash.
And my mind suddenly came to an entirely different conclusion. This man was only bidding because I seemed interested, almost as if bragging to get my attention. Okay. Time to teach the prick a lesson. This was something I could do. Familiar. Not fangs and claw, but manipulating another person. I sighed openly, and flashed him a guilty smile, feigning defeat.
He studied me thoughtfully, smile slowly fading as he realized that his brief game was now concluding. He finally turned back to the auctioneer with a casual shrug. I waited until the auctioneer began to open his mouth, and with perfect timing, I spoke loudly, feeling excited as I changed the rules of the game, changed the game itself.
“Three hundred,” I said, my tone laced with desperation.
He whipped around so fast I thought he was in danger of falling out of his chair. I batted my eyelashes at him and shrugged.
His interest was definitely ignited now, and a faint smile crept back onto his face, seeing that the game might not yet be over. But that was okay. He didn’t know I had changed the rules of the game. I was going to bleed this arrogant asshole. The room was as silent as a tomb now, the auctioneer looking both delighted and surprised.
“Five hundred,” the man said, watching me.
I didn’t have to fake my response at that, eyebrows climbing up my forehead. I let out an obvious sigh of defeat this time. He really didn’t like to lose. A perfect mark. Then I turned to Claire, shaking my head with a tight-lipped frown. It was so silent that I heard the man grunt this time as he turned back to the front.
But he hadn’t learned well.
“Seven hundred,” I said in a casual tone, waiting until he was fully facing the front again.
Stunned grunts echoed throughout the room, especially from the older man who had quickly dropped out after his single bid. He was openly staring at me now, muttering under his breath, but aside from a quick glance, I turned back to the green-eyed man.
“You sure you can play this game?” his cool voice was softly spoken, but full of confidence, as if it was bred in his bones.
I turned to the auctioneer, showing him my paddle number. I hoped I was flush enough, or I was about to become the laughing stock of the city. He consulted a tablet before him, and his face paled considerably. He looked back up at me with a slight frown as if both confused and thoughtful, but then he gave the green-eyed man a single nod. The man blinked, then turned back to me. “One million,” he growled, and he said it like he was slamming the gates of hell closed.
This time, I didn’t even react. I just stared at him. But he wasn’t about to turn around again. I felt the angry stares on me, but also some very approving stares. This man wasn’t loved here, and they liked the fact that someone was bleeding him. He continued staring at me as the auctioneer asked in a nervous voice if there was a higher bid. No one replied. I kept my face utterly neutral, uncaring, staring into those deep green eyes. I think I was still smiling though, but it wasn’t in my eyes. And the man could see that. He stared at me, uncaring about the item any longer, as if transfixed only by me, trying to categorize me.
“Sold,” the auctioneer said in a shaking voice. The green-eyed man continued watching me for a time, but seeing no reaction on my face, finally turned back around. The auctioneer continued after a deep breath. “We will take a brief break to refill drinks, as the next several items are open only to those with the right marking. A lavender oval on the bottom of your paddle.”
Several glanced down at their paddles with frowns, not having realized the items they had been holding out for were part of a VIP auction afterwards, likely assuming all the items on the stage would be available to them. But then again, those who had the appropriate marking likely hadn’t needed to be told. Roland hadn’t mentioned this, but seeing as how my item had already gone up for auction, he must have known it wouldn’t have gone to the VIP bidding. But this meant Roland had very deep pockets. Or the church did, because I had the required marking — as did the green-eyed man.
But my game was only just beginning, even if he didn’t yet know it. Allowing your mark to think they had won was part of the process. I stood, needlessly straightened my dress, and held out a hand for Claire, who looked weak in the knees and pale in the face. We exited with the rest of the crowd, and I felt their eyes latching onto my paddle, acknowledging the marking with disgusted scowls. Unsurprisingly, it was the same people who had shot me the most arrogant looks earlier.
Evidently, they weren’t pleased to learn that the young woman who they had openly dismissed had deeper pockets. I smiled politely — not smugly — at each one, and exited, heading straight for the bar. I knew he would come to me there.
Claire followed, desperately trying to keep her mouth shut by the looks of it.
“What were you doing?” she finally whispered in a low tone.
I opened my mouth to answer, but a familiar voice spoke behind me. “I was wondering the same thing.”
I turned to see the green-eyed man studying me curiously with his relentless gaze. Not rude, but commanding. A reporter hung patiently behind him, waiting for an opportunity to speak with him. I smiled back. “Just wanted to see how badly you wanted a foot-long.”
His lips tightened, and Claire coughed, trying to mask her sudden laughter. I continued to stare at the man, and a slow smile began to creep across his face. “Witty and pretty,” he murmured as if to himself, but loud enough for me to hear.
I noticed a slight commotion a dozen or so paces away. I turned my neck, frowning at the odd sight, because up until now everyone had been very composed. It was the olde
r gentleman, but I couldn’t see who he was talking to. I did see he had a fistful of another man’s suit, veins prominent on his fist. “I see you, demo—”
Then the older gentleman erupted in flames. I gasped, jumping back a step, dropping my hands instinctively, realizing too late that I held my magical escrimas for all to see. But thankfully, no one paid a lick of attention to me, they were all too busy screaming and running from the burning man.
But the green-eyed man — who had also been staring in stunned disbelief at the burning man — suddenly flinched, his eyes flicking down to my fists, equally shocked.
Chapter 14
Shit. He had seen me do magic. Or he was wondering where I had hidden forearm length cattle prods under my dress. But I knew better. He knew.
I couldn’t think of a reliable way to deter a Regular from what he had seen from only a pace away. An animalistic roar erupted on the other side of the room, and I saw a body fly from that direction, clipping the chandelier with its head on the way, and then crashing limply on top of the piano. Everyone was screaming now. Claire was dancing from foot to foot, terrified of the madness, but fearing to leave my side, trusting I could keep her safe. But I was distracted by the green-eyed man. He looked… anticipatory as he stared after the roar.
He shot me a withering look. “Hope you know how to handle those foot-longs,” he muttered, and then he turned, bumping right into the reporter, who looked shocked at the carnage. “Run, woman!” he gripped her by the shoulders, gently shoving her towards the exit. She complied, glancing over her shoulder one last time before fleeing. Then the green-eyed man was running. But not with the crowd and the reporter. He was running towards the echoing roar, and the sudden shrieks and heavy thumps of flesh striking flesh that accompanied it.
My nightmare began to whisper in my ears, but I squashed it with effort. I didn’t have time to be scared. Claire was in danger. Hell, I was in danger. So were all these innocents.
The crowd was almost entirely gone now, bounding up the steps that led back outside, leaving me clear to finally see the source of the roaring sound. I blinked, brain short-circuiting.
A fucking ten-foot-tall brown grizzly bear was fighting one of the werewolf-like creatures I had encountered with Roland. The wolf yelped as the massive bear claw sliced into his shoulder, sending him sliding into the discarded pile of instruments that had been abandoned when the musicians fled.
Out of nowhere, a pale man flew from a shadowed hallway to land on the bear’s back, biting down into the thick fur of his neck. And then I saw the green-eyed man, and I stilled, speechless. He was holding twin coils in his fist, like ropes, but made of pure energy. Magic. Just like my sticks. One looked to be fire, the other ice, and he was… laughing. He was a wizard, too?
Claire was urgently tugging at my sleeve, trying to drag me away from the chaos. I met her terrified eyes and pointed behind the bar. “Hide.” Whatever was going on might give me an opportunity. An opportune distraction.
“What? Let’s get out of—Callie, wait!” she hissed as I jogged closer to the green-eyed man. He was a wizard. Like me. And whatever was going on, there was only two of our kind and three other flavors of Freak. And that wizard had won the piece of the spear. I needed to keep him alive.
So that I could steal it from him later.
The bear casually threw off the creature worrying at his neck, sending him clear across the room towards the piano, and then locked eyes on the green-eyed Indiana Jones wizard. “Nate Temple…” it snarled, looking as if it had bitten something unpleasant. “This is not your concern.”
Nate Temple… Master Temple? That was who the green-eyed man was? Although I recognized the name, I still couldn’t place where I had heard it before.
Temple shrugged. “Sometimes an animal just needs to be put down.” I could hear amusement in his tone, as if he were back in the auction room, not facing a giant talking werebear. In the middle of Kansas City. In an old theater.
I calmly stepped up beside him, and the bear shifted his eyes to me in surprise. “And who are you, little girl?”
I swallowed nervously, trying to bite down my fear. “I hear bear jerky is all the rage. Never had the chance to try it, though. Must be my lucky night.” I was surprised to hear my voice had no tremor.
Temple chuckled, as if hearing a small child make an impressively ridiculous boast. Then he took a step to stand between us. “Probably not the best practice dummy to learn on,” he said to me. “I’ve got this.”
My nightmare pressed against me, forcing its way to the forefront of my mind, and I struggled against it. The bear snarled at the two of us, but more so at Temple. “I will suck the marrow—”
“Suck on this, ass-clown.” And Temple lashed out with his whips, scouring the bear across both cheeks with them. The bear howled as he shook his snout, blood and burnt fur marring his face, but he managed to lunge towards Temple. And me.
I brought up my sticks, but they were suddenly longer, like spears — as if my subconscious mind realized that I didn’t want to get too close to the killing machine. Making my sticks longer didn’t increase the weight. They still felt feather-light in my palms.
But I remained frozen in place, battling the nightmare, hands shaking with terror. Rain. Darkness. A massive door slowly opening before me…
Temple flicked his gaze my way, frowned, and then I was suddenly sliding across the floor on my ass, my dress tearing at the sudden motion. Even though I squawked in surprise, I noticed that it hadn’t been an attack, because his blast had gently knocked me on my rear, and then scooted me across the marble floor. I slowed to a stop near the bar, and was cursing under my breath. The swift maneuver had shocked me so much that my nightmare shifted to a faint hum, overclouded by anger. I scrambled to return to the fight when I heard a shriek behind me.
I whirled, bringing up my spears, ignoring the roars, crashing, and sounds of destruction behind me. I came face to face with the pale man the bear had tossed across the room, the one who had been gnawing on his neck. He was standing behind Claire, somehow none the worse for wear, and gripping her by the throat. Long black claws extended from his fingers to press against her thin flesh, an ounce of pressure away from opening a vein. I slowly lowered my spears, not wanting to startle him. His resulting smile was chilly, revealing a long set of canines. Vampire.
I had never actually seen one up close before. I had seen a lot of shifters, but vampires had never really been a topic with Roland. Either because they weren’t a big problem here or because he dealt with them before they had a chance to cross my studies. He had told me that someone had come to town a few months ago to shut down the ruling faction, but he hadn’t spared many details beyond that. It had been the same time that a concert had caused much attention in the news. Some kind of terrorist attack or something. For some reason, something about that event tugged at me, but I forcefully banished the thought.
“There’s a good girl,” the vampire cooed, as if to calm a nervous dog.
I carefully controlled my breathing, unsure if I was fast enough to stop him before he opened Claire’s neck. I was quickly coming to the realization that I would have to kill someone for the first time in my life. The fact that he was a monster didn’t make a difference to me. I would still be taking a life. Or Claire would lose hers. Or I would lose mine. But someone was likely going to die, no matter how much it made me want to empty my stomach. I had practiced for many years, and was very good at fighting, but that had been practice. No real danger. One wrong move here could get someone killed. Would get someone killed.
“Get rid of them,” the vampire warned, careful to keep himself hidden behind Claire. Her eyes were wide with horror, and she was panting, standing on her toes as if that would save her. She wasn’t wearing her shoes any longer. The vampire was much taller than her, so he had to crouch down to stay protected. I released my spears, not able to force myself to do anything heroic. Because if I didn’t move fast enough, Claire would die. And
I didn’t have the mentality to just take a life. I would hesitate. Falter at the last second. I just knew it. Or I would miss with my attack and accidentally kill her myself. Why did I agree to come here? I’m not ready!
Just then, I noticed a pair of eyes skulking up behind the unsuspecting vampire, staring from me to his back, licking his lips. He was still a good distance away, but he was stealthy, and drawing closer. I risked a closer look as the vampire averted his eyes from me for a moment. The wolf was the same shifter I had seen last night. He had the same notch in his right ear, and scar on his muzzle. The one that got away. The one who had likely returned to the storage unit to take the piece of the spear. An enemy. He snarled silently as he settled eyes on me, and his intent shot towards the unsuspecting vampire, as if granting me a silent truce. Even though he obviously hated to make the choice. He didn’t want a taste of my sticks, especially with me forewarned. He had seen what they could do with his friend. He would go after the easier meat, his gaze said.
All this happened in the blink of an eye. I could still hear the sounds of battle behind me, but it sounded distant, as if they had moved into a different room, or one of them was fleeing.
Either way, I was alone, and Claire was hostage, and I couldn’t be certain the wolf wouldn’t exact his revenge on me, or kill all three of us.
Chapter 15
The vampire grinned at me, pushing Claire ahead of him as he made to walk past me, aiming for the auction room. And I suddenly realized that in the chaos, it was likely no one had remained behind to guard the items from the auction. The piece of the spear. I held my hands up, backing away from the vampire, but angling myself to slowly put myself between him and the auction room, as if I thought he had intended to take us both prisoner.
To add to this illusion, I stopped masking my fears, which wasn’t difficult. “Please, just don’t hurt us… You can take us until you get what you want, but we aren’t even supposed to be here. I’m just a student!” I continued ambling backwards, flicking terrified eyes about the room, even letting myself stumble once I hit the steps, and letting out a startled sob as I made sure to break my heel in the process.
Unchained: Feathers and Fire Book 1 Page 7