by J. L. Smith
We made our way down the dim flight of stairs, lit only by a handful of sconces on the walls, the flames flickering tentatively in the night air. At the base of the stairs stood a woman and man, barring a great black door, behind which the low hum of cheers could be discerned. The man was what could have been expected – big and brawny, with a fierce frown on his bearded face. The woman was a little more interesting to look at, with her shock of braided pink hair and heavily made-up face. Her eyebrows, drawn in black pencil, were shaped in severe arches over her icy blue eyes, making her look somewhat surprised. She wore a pink tutu, which showed off her tattooed legs. I could hardly make out an inch of unmarked flesh, although I did not let my gaze linger. She seemed far from friendly.
“Armbands?” she said sharply, her expression bored.
Rayder, who was standing just before her, slid the sleeve of his jacket up to reveal his armband.
She nodded and I saw the precise moment when she really took note of him, her eyes lighting up as she examined his face. Her gaze drifted down his body, evidently impressed, as she pursed her lips sultrily. Part of me wanted to roll my eyes at her obvious interest, but another part of me felt relief. It could work out to our advantage.
“These guys are with me,” Rayder said casually, his voice somehow sounding smoother, as if he were playing the role of a charmer.
The woman’s sexy expression faded, becoming harder. “No armband, no entrance. Anyway, it’s already started.”
“No exceptions?” Rayder asked lightly, as if he did not really care. “They want in.”
“I don’t give the okay on who’s in and out.” She shrugged, “Either you go in alone or you leave.”
Rayder nodded and I wondered if he was about to turn around. I wished I could see his face. “Nice tatt,” he remarked conversationally. She looked down at her legs, evidently searching among the ink for the image Rayder meant. “The dreamcatcher. I’ve got one too.”
“Oh yeah?” She perked up, while the oaf beside her cleared his throat. Evidently, her need to flirt with Rayder was at odds with her responsibilities for the night.
From my position behind him, I heard him unzip his leather jacket, following which he raised his shirt to give the woman a look at his tattoo. It happened to be on his ribcage. I had caught a glimpse of it a time or two. Her smile was predatory as she took in his tattoo, licking her red lips.
“Nice,” she said, causing the man beside her to grunt again, his frown deepening. She shot him a dirty look.
“Want to feel?” Rayder asked quietly.
I had never heard him speak that way. It was confusing, hearing the flirtation laced in his usually almost-bored tone of voice.
She reached out lazily, while Neal shifted beside me, obviously uncomfortable. It was as if the rest of us held our collective breath, waiting for the game to come to an end and our fate to be decided. I looked on as she touched his skin, her expression becoming somewhat greedy as she did it. There was a strange moment between them, some unspoken communication and then she nodded once.
Turning to her sidekick, who was glowering at Rayder, she snapped, “Open the door.”
“But they don’t…” he started, his speech slow and hesitant, matching his cumbersome size.
“Just do it,” she almost snarled, flipping her pink hair over her shoulder in irritation.
Without any ceremony at all, the door was opened and we shuffled in, before anyone could change their minds. I almost felt sorry for the doorman, having seen the lovesick look on his confused face as he glanced uncertainly at the woman. The feeling was clearly not reciprocated, although she obviously kept him on her leash, for some twisted reason of her own.
“Geez, Ray,” Susie said laughingly, when the door shut behind us, leaving us in another dim hallway, this one empty, with only the sound of raucous voices ahead. “I know you’re fairly easy on the eyes, but that was a whole new level of game.”
“What went down?” Kieran asked, shaking his head in disbelief.
“She basically wanted to eat you for dinner,” Susie gushed, laughing again in wonder. “Like, I could literally see her drooling!”
“It wasn’t like that,” Rayder said quietly, sounding slightly irritated. He was walking ahead of me, his head down and I heard him zip up his jacket again.
“Yeah?” Susie questioned lightly. “So, what was it like?”
He turned around, the hard look in his eyes confusing me. Surely, we ought to have been celebrating, although, I had to admit, I saw him a little differently now. The thought made me feel uneasy, but I forced myself not to dwell on it.
“I paid her,” he said roughly.
“When she felt you up?” Kieran said, seemingly with little thought for his choice of words.
“Yeah,” Rayder replied tightly. “All she wanted was a bribe. I just gave her a way to do it.”
“I still think your rock-hard abs had something to do with it!” Susie said teasingly, unaware of Rayder’s mood, or perhaps she was too excited to care. He turned away then, but not before he caught my eye, a strange look on his face. “Ever the brooding bachelor!” Susie whispered.
“Yeah,” I agreed half-heartedly, not really sure what I had seen on his face. Had it been regret?
There was little time to think things over, however, as we twisted and turned through the hallway, gradually getting deeper underground with each stair that we took. The sound of wild cheers was becoming louder the further we went. I could make out voices too, presumably speaking to the crowd, and my heart beat in my throat. I was about to see Balen, for the very first time.
Rayder turned to us again, the underground weapons depot, just visible at the end of the dark hallway, casting light about him, an eerie silhouette in that hellish place.
“Saff, Aria, you guys come with me. Kieran, you take the others. Hang at the back.”
Kieran nodded once, a soldier ready for battle, his eyes hard. Following Rayder, I glanced back once at the twins. Susie winked at me, the only giveaway that she was anxious being the nervous twitching of her hands.
I was struck by the size of the crowd as we entered the depot, easily a few hundred strong. The room was heaving with people, the cheers and drunken jeers making me instantly claustrophobic. It was a grim and dark space, lit only by sconces and paved in gray stone. The whole place was haphazardly held together by beams of steel and aging wood. Taut chains hung from the ceiling, stringing up a selection of weapons, presumably as some sort of bizarre advertisement. But, nothing could take away from the crowd, drunk and disorderly and positively wild with excitement. Everywhere I walked, I was bumped and jostled, as we tried to slip between people. The floor was strewn with broken glass and my boots stuck to it as I walked, the surface tacky with grime and liquor. I still could not make out Balen, but, every now and then, a voice boomed over the crowd. It had to belong to him. It was low and gravelly. It made my skin crawl.
Rayder came to a halt somewhere dead center, in the very middle of the crowd. I stopped behind him and he moved around me, so that I could see between the heads in our way. And then I saw him. Balen. He was a solidly built man, his muscular, tanned biceps accentuated by the black vest he wore. His arms were covered in tattoos, reminding me a little uncomfortably of Rayder, but I supposed most people in these circles were into extensive body art. Even his shaved head was decorated, a thick, black stripe tattooed from back to front, ending abruptly just above his forehead. I could make out the details of his face from my distance from the front of the crowd: his earlobes, stretched by thick, round earrings; the skin beneath his mouth, pierced with a great, black, metallic-looking bolt. But, it was his eyes which held my attention – almost pitch black, they chilled my very blood.
Beside him stood a man and woman, presumably his sidekicks, for they seemed to consider themselves important. The man wore black leathers and dark glasses, the frown etched into his deep chocolate-colored face seemingly permanent. His s
hort, curly hair was cropped close to his head, a military look well suited to him. The woman, on the other hand, looked wilder, her brown curls flowing chaotically over her milky shoulders, her eyes dark and shadowed. She had a sly smile on her face, like a cat playing with her prey. I shivered at that smile, at the look of pure joy on her face, sensing something a little mad about her. I did not want to find myself in a room alone with her; nor any of them, for that matter.
“The industry’s on the rise!” Balen shouted, drawing my attention back to him. He had the crowd eating out of his hand, the cheers so loud, he had to wait for them to die down before he spoke once more. “You asked and I answered. There’s more money to be made than ever before!”
A beefy man beside me raised his fist into the air, shouldering me as he did so and causing Rayder to shove him a little in defense. I turned around, raising my eyebrows at Rayder in thanks. He did not notice. His eyes were fixed on Balen, a look of pure hatred in them. I had never seen that look on Rayder’s face before. He had the look of a killer about him. I glanced quickly at Saffron, noticing a similar look of contempt on her beautiful, hard face, despite her eyes being hidden by her sunglasses.
“But, I want only the toughest,” Balen continued over the buzz of the crowd. “The best. Survivors. Fighters. That’s why you’re here! Am I right or am I right?”
More cheers erupted, a few whistles accompanying them. He was not really saying anything at all – merely rallying the crowd up. He had charisma, I had to admit.
“He’s always right!” cried a shrill voice. It was the woman beside him who spoke, bowing theatrically as she said it. “Am I right or am I right?” Her cheeks were flushed, the adoration on her face unmistakeable for all to see. She strutted about, her fists raised in the air, inciting the crowd further and inducing whistling as she wiggled her rear about.
Balen nodded at her, an ever so slight grin on his face. I wondered whether she was his girlfriend. “Okay, settle down boys,” he called, the noise of the crowd waning as he spoke. “We’ve got some house business to attend to.” He searched the crowd, his expression changing as he did so. The mask of showmanship seemed to be slipping away, replaced by something scarier, something which looked to be barely concealed rage. “By now, you should know about a group of bikers screwing with our runs.” Voices rose in agreement, sounding angry. I did not dare turn to look at Rayder’s face. “They’ve taken down some of the best of us.” The crowd was becoming more restless, growing in ire while Balen’s own voice became louder, as he snapped just a little. “They’re thieves! Liars! Murderers! They’re hypocrites!”
“Hypocrites how?” someone shouted.
“They got their own trade!” another man cried.
“They just in it for the cash,” a woman yelled at the very back of the crowd.
Balen was nodding along, as the crowd jostled and cussed. “It’s true. They’re starting their own trade.” This silenced the audience, most of whom, it seemed, had not heard this particular lie before. Balen’s voice, when it came, was surprisingly quiet. “But, I have plans for them.” He smiled and it was beyond wicked. “Who wants to help me crush them?”
The cheers were deafening and I watched as Balen laughed without humor, raising his arms in the air, which only encouraged them further. “Who’s with me?” he roared.
“We are! We are!” the crowd started chanting, and, hearing Rayder’s voice join them, I shouted out too, feeling a little sick at myself.
“I want those bikers delivered to my doorstep! Alive!” Balen shouted above the riot. “When I’m done with them, every organ will be ripped from their bodies. They will hang like flags from my fortress as a warning to anyone who even thinks about stepping on our turf again!” I shivered as the runners went wild. “Bring them to me,” Balen continued, “and I’ll reward you beyond your wildest dreams.”
“How much?” cried a young man close to Balen.
Balen grinned, “More than you’ve ever touched in your life, kid.” The crowd liked this and so did the young man. “But,” Balen said, his eyes scanning the audience, “if I ever find out that any of you had information about these bikers and you didn’t hand it over,” he paused for effect, “you’re done.”
“Ain’t nobody here that stupid!” shouted someone just behind me. People laughed and the crowd started to become impatient again, as if ready for the formal part of the evening to come to an end.
Balen smiled, his eyes looking for the man who had made the comment, while I heard bottles beginning to break again and people getting increasingly rowdy. His gaze locked on mine and I swallowed hard, refusing to look away. His eyes moved on to rest directly behind me and I turned, seeing Rayder meet Balen’s stare. My heart was pounding and I wondered how Saffron could stand it, having known this man before. Would he recognize her from this distance? Would he know her, despite the passage of time?
It happened so quickly that I did not really have time to process it. Just as I was about to turn back to face Balen once more, Saffron curled into Rayder, pulling his face down, so that his lips met hers. My stomach sank as I looked on, watching them kiss. It was not long. It was not overly passionate. But, it happened. And Rayder kissed her back. That much I knew.
I turned away quickly, my cheeks burning in humiliation. Balen was no longer looking in our direction, rather dismissing the meeting and calling everyone to enjoy the party. I barely heard what he said, my mind reeling. They were an item. She was probably his girlfriend and, in typical Rayder and Saffron style, they had not bothered to tell anyone. Why had I ever let myself feel anything for him?
The crowd was starting to disperse and so I turned again to face them, forcing my expression to remain utterly neutral. I hoped that my cheeks were no longer flushed, but I felt hot and flustered, my blood drumming in my ears. I could not bear to look at Rayder, instead locking eyes with Saffron. She smiled innocently, but I knew what I would see in her eyes if it were not for her sunglasses. A look of smug satisfaction.
“Let’s go,” Rayder said gruffly, causing me instinctually to glance at him.
I wished I had not. There was something almost like confusion, or perhaps guilt, in his eyes. I walked off, not understanding him at all.
Chapter 10
It was safest to get out of there as soon as possible. Not only were we in Balen’s territory, but the place was crawling with the lowest of the low. Rayder started to lead us out, but, with every turn, there seemed to be another crush of people before us. I pushed my way ahead, getting bumped and jostled as I went.
“Watch it,” snapped a woman, her bright green eyes piercing me with a glare.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, pulling my hat down lower, as if to ward off the crowd.
I looked for Rayder, ahead of me, but could not see him. Glancing about, I did not see Saffron nearby either. My heart started to beat a little harder, but I forced myself to remain calm. I shoved ahead, just dodging the beginnings of what looked to be a brawl between two drunken men. Narrowly missing getting in the midst of them, I stumbled into the chest of another man, who proceeded to spill his drink down the sleeve of my jacket. I shook out my wet hand, not even bothering to give him a second glance. He looked almost incoherent anyway. I simply wanted out of there.
The crowd was thinning on my right and I made for the open space, hoping to bypass the thick of it and find my way out through the hallway in which we had come. But, as I thought I was finally edging closer to the entrance, a mob of drunken teenage boys started to circle me.
“Hey there, girly!” one said, his voice slurred, his eyes hazy.
“Want to hang with us?” another asked, attempting to put his arm around me.
“I’m good,” I said, trying to sound casual, and ducking beneath his arm.
Hands grabbed for me half-heartedly, but I rushed away from them, towards a closed-off room beside the great warehouse in which the meeting had been housed. My heart pounding, I figured I would wait
for the crowd to disperse a little more, before attempting to find my friends. I was sure that not everyone was planning to stick around for the party and it would make it easier to get out. Surely, a quarter of an hour would do the trick.
Opening the door, I hurried into the faintly-lit room, shutting the door behind me. It was empty, besides a couple of red threadbare sofas and a low-lying table with a half-empty bottle of vodka on it, surrounded by a few mugs. I stood awkwardly, wondering whether to take a seat. Somehow, I felt it might just be safer amongst the crowd. I was on the verge of leaving again, even if it meant finding myself in the midst of a horde of drunken men, when the door on the other side of the room opened. And in walked Balen himself.
He paused when he spotted me hovering near the other side of the room and raised his eyebrows.
“Lost?” he drawled, a frightening gleam in his dark eyes.
I was about to apologize, my heartbeat in my throat. I was about to swear ignorance and sound the very innocent that I was. But, then I remembered just where I was. What would Rayder have me do? As the thought entered my mind, a mask of confidence shuttered my face. I smiled at Balen, my stomach churning.
Pulling my hat off, to let my hair tumble over my shoulders, I said casually, “I was hoping I’d get a chance to meet the one and only Balen up close and personal.”
His lips curled seductively, “Did you now? And what’s a pretty little thing like you doing down here?”
I started to laugh, “Want to chuck me out?” I placed my hand on my hip, pouting, even while my heart pounded. I could not believe this was really happening. How was I going to escape him?
“I’ll keep you,” Balen responded, his voice low, while a wicked grin played on his lips. I could not help but gulp. I was out of my depth.