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“Then how do you know he’s missing?” Jenkins growls, an edge of violence lacing his tone.
Timothy’s watery blue eyes dart to me, then back to Jenkins. The leader spins around, nostrils flaring as a vein pulses in his forehead. I wait, though I shouldn’t antagonize him. I’ll make him ask the question. He’ll either take it as insubordination or respect. Either way, I don't care.
"Cruz, what do you know?"
"Anders Drake left the premises at roughly midnight. He didn't take any transportation until he was several blocks away from headquarters. I followed him to the train station, where he bought a ticket to Synd. It was one-way."
His eyes narrow as if he expected me to stop the older man. Even if I could have, I wouldn't have bothered. The best thing for Aelia will be if he dies while in Synd. I doubt he will, though. He'll probably come crawling back to the Guild like the cockroach he is.
"Everyone out," Jenkins bellows, waving them away.
As the men file out, I wonder if any of them will be tapped to take care of the Auction. From what Aelia has told me, usually it's one of the council members who organizes it, though Jenkins is heavily involved. He doesn't seem to be in the right state of mind to pull off this event without losing it completely.
Jenkins glares at me when I round his desk, intent on following the others. He points to the chair in front of him, and I sink into it. I wasn't expecting this.
"Where's Merrick?" Jenkins asks when the door clicks shut behind the men.
"He's disappeared. No one has seen him. His office put out a press release—"
He waves away my explanation, grimacing. "I saw that bullshit they're pushing. I want to know where he is and what he said before he left."
I cross my legs, buying time. Giving Jenkins information is a delicate dance. Too little and he'll dismiss me. Too much and he'll use it against innocent people, and I'll only have myself to blame.
Aelia's chair squeaks, drawing his attention, and his eyes narrow on her.
"He said he would be using his stepdaughter for his entry fee into the Guild. He seemed hesitant, combative about it," I say, attempting to draw his eyes back to me. Thankfully, it works.
"Why is that?"
"Not sure. He was meeting with the son of another high-level official within Rima. Perhaps he had a deal with him regarding her. Either way, all three of them seem to have fled the city."
"Media said they're looking for her," he grumbles.
"Grasping at straws to link her to Merrick's disappearance. I believe he's dead, though I have no proof."
“The Auction needs to move forward,” Jenkins grumbles, shuffling through his papers.
“Who do you think is capable of taking over?” I ask, holding my breath.
This was the first time I’ve seen most of the members in one place before. Trying to find more information on them was a bust. I’m still not convinced I’ve met them all. Asking Jenkins which of those men he plans on assigning Anders’s role is a risk. Even after all these weeks weaseling my way into his good graces, my position isn’t secure. Not that I want it to be, but it would make this whole thing easier.
“None of them. They’re all idiots, incapable of doing anything for the Guild. I’d kill them all and start over, but—" He cuts himself off abruptly, shaking his head. “We may need to postpone.”
I nod, nerves building in my stomach. “It certainly is a massive undertaking. And to have one so close to the usual one at New Year’s…”
“What do you know about the Auction?” Jenkins asks cautiously.
“The others talk. Tragic I missed this past year’s,” I murmur.
“Not happy with your choice?”
“Hardly. Though the thought of training another one has crossed my mind.” My skin crawls as the words come out.
He smirks, eyes darting to Aelia, then back to me.Leaning back in his chair, he tracks her movements, the clicking of her keys stuttering into the sudden silence.
“You. Come here,” he barks at Aelia.
Her soft footfalls against the ornate rug are the only indication that she’s behind me.
