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It's the same way those of us in power address those who have pissed us off enough that we're ready to end them—when the problem becomes more trouble than it's worth. It's the way I spoke to Maddox before I left for Synd with MacKenzie. It's the way Helms delivered orders when we stormed the Depot deep in Byrns territory to free the people the Guild had kidnapped. Shane King used the same tone when someone questioned whether he was fit to lead while he was deep in the shit with a woman. It's ingrained in us as leaders. I hate that I share the trait with someone like Jenkins.
"What else would you request, Cruz?"
I glance down at Aelia and she peeks at me, her brown eyes meeting mine. A slow smile pulls at my lips and she shivers.
"I only have one." I blink slowly, turning back to Jenkins. "Complete control over her, until I deem otherwise."
Jenkins nods, tapping his finger against his thin lips. "That can be arranged. However, I'd like you to see our full selection before you decide on this scrawny whore."
He snaps his fingers and Aelia scrambles to her feet, chin still tucked to her chest. Her fingers tremble until she weaves them together, holding them in front of her—the model form of submission.
"Take him to the Pit and show him his options. I'm sure he'll find something better than he currently has," he sneers at Aelia.
Jenkins smirks as Aelia nods, shuffling toward the door. No matter who she shows me, I won't change my mind. Before the sun rises, she'll wholly and completely be mine.
Eight
Aelia
I thought Dante would have been happy to pick someone else to pull into his plan. Based on the scowl currently gracing his face, I was severely mistaken. The nerves swirling in my gut are cycling through my body, waiting for the perfect moment to strike and knock me off guard. The last thing I want to do is bring him down to the Pit. Not only will it show him the darker side of the Guild, but he’ll be also exposed to the darker side of me.
The glittering lights and influx of money in the upper rooms hides the horror coating the walls. At least, I always thought it was easier to ignore the atrocities. The Pit, though, holds the stark reality of what they engage in. Up top, I'm untouchable in a sense. I'm protected more since I'm an asset. Down here, I'm reviled. No one wants to join forces with me, get on my good side, or be my friend. I'm a plague, picking them off one at a time. I don't blame them for their hatred. I hate myself too.
Ever since I snapped at Dante in my room, his silent accusation has wormed its way into my brain, slowly infiltrating every corner of my mind. Most people would have spiraled long ago, but not me. Apparently, all it took was someone accusing me of not saving myself—of not saving them.
"Don't say anything." I hold back the “please” begging to escape.
"I'm not choosing one of them," he growls as we approach the door.
Grant loiters down the hall, tracking our movements. I'll pay for the sins Dante committed. Later, though. Grant might leave bruises, but since Dante hasn't done more than put on a show for those around us, I doubt anyone will see them. My handler has always been careful, even with the revealing clothing I'm forced into more often than not these days.
"You might find someone more to your liking," I murmur.
I nod to the guard, someone I don't know, and he opens the door with a flourish. It's for Dante's benefit. No one cares about doing shit like that for me. The dark stairway seems to stretch on forever, as if we're descending into the bowels of hell. I'd imagine the devil is more benevolent than Jenkins.
"There are many decisions I'd like to change, but claiming you isn't one of them, angel."
I don't know what to do with that. Dealing with the emotions he stirs in me—ones I thought long dead after spending so much time in the dark—isn't something I'm able to handle. At least not right now. Maybe later, when I'm tucked away in my closet, I'll extract them one by one, deciphering the meaning behind each. I do the same with his words. Might as well add more.
"This is a test, Dante. One you can't fail," I breathe, glancing at him from the corner of my eye.
The space opens up, but he spins me around, crowding me into the shadows. I gasp when he presses his body into mine. Usually it’s fear squeezing the air from my lungs. This time, though, butterflies erupt in my stomach and my heart stutters in my chest.
"Listen very closely, Aelia. No matter who you throw at me, I will reject every single one of them. My choice has already been made. When I'm standing on the other side of this, I fully intend you to be next to me."
He pushes from the wall, striding several steps away as he runs his hand through his hair. Unlocking my muscles, I walk woodenly past him. I have no response to his grand declarations. He's delusional if he thinks he's going to save anyone, much less me.
Dante isn't the first person who's tried to bring down the Guild, if that’s truly what he plans to do. I've never encountered them, but I listened to Jenkins rage about them. Eventually, they were discovered and killed. At least, I assume they were, since he stopped screaming into his phone.
"Twice in one week, Mistress? What good fortune," Rachel calls, then chokes, eyes widening when she spots Dante.
She melts into the shadows, leaving her silhouette to haunt us as we walk on. At least Dante listened to one thing I said, keeping his mouth shut. I don't want to be the one who picks for him, and Jenkins never told me I had to. I wish I could disappear with her, letting him go about his business.
"These women are available," I say, trying to keep my voice steady, and I gesture to the makeshift rooms.
Women cower away from his prying eyes, lips clamped together. One even scrambles into the corner, trying to make herself as small as possible. It's rare patrons are brought down here for their "pick of the litter" as Jenkins calls it. This privilege is usually reserved for the elite VIPs. And I have never had to escort someone personally, though Jenkins makes me come along when he brings someone down here.
"If your tastes run toward men, they are kept over here," I say, striding toward the cages.
