23. Micah

Emerson and I raced into the theatre room and my smile turned rabid. My arms stretched wide in welcome, embracing the madness before me. Flares of wayward emotion filled the atmosphere with spectacular colour and finesse.

Spencer was centre stage, working the pole like a true professional. It would have been sexy if she wasn't wearing a full-bodied flamingo suit, her hair and eyes altered bright pink to match. That wasn't even the most bizarre scene.

Considered one of the most potent hallucinogenic drugs on the market, the Haze Dust had certainly taken effect. And with the amount we had laced the food with, everyone was well and truly fucked.

My eyes skimmed over the crowd in glee. Most were screaming, fighting or fucking. Whatever their idled brains could handle.

My gaze stalled on Eden, who was seated in the VIP seat front-of-stage, tongue molesting her chihuahua's mouth. I gagged, my body releasing an involuntary tremor.

"Go and save that poor dog and grab Spence," I said. "I'll get Ava and meet you at the point."

Emerson agreed, parting for the stage, her expression warped in blatant disgust.

On my way to the bar, I found the pale-haired sadist, alone and hunched over, his head buried in his hands. The sofa next to him was empty, his brother nowhere in sight.

I made myself comfortable, shuffled up to his side, crossed my legs and perused my nails.

"Now, what is the Treasury doing in a brothel owned by Ludus Maximus?" I whispered (not that we could be overheard by the intermittent screams that laced the environment).

Without hesitation he launched on top of me, his hands wrapping around my throat, an endless rage leaking from his pores. I smirked up into his veiny eyes, bulging from his skull, pupils dilated from the drug-induced high. His hold wouldn't last, his movements uncoordinated and jolty. With an easy twist of his arm, he crashed to the ground.

I crouched in front of him, assessing his sprawled form. "You're lucky I have bigger matters to attend to tonight. But trust me when I say I will find you again."

I ran my tongue across the pad of my thumb and rubbed between my breasts. The make-up smeared and a glimpse of my most sacred tattoo peeked through beneath.

It was reckless, but the innate wrath that forever lingered inside me was alive and thumping, clawing for a way to get out.

His gaze skimmed the offending area, then returned to my eyes, disbelief clear in his dark brown orbs.

"You're all dead," he managed to mumble through his hazed brain.

"If only." Tilting my head, I sealed his fate with a promise. "The Sovereign will collect what is due."

He bellowed, but instead of attacking me, he turned and smashed his head into the glass side table over and over again. Accompanied with his self-inflicted assault, he permeated a shockwave of guilt that followed each and every hit—an emotion I wasn't expecting to feel from him.

The out-of-town dealer hadn't exaggerated, the Haze Dust potent enough to incapacitate even the strongest of minds.

I left him behind, leaving him to drown in his self-made hallucinations.

The crowd grewin chaotic disarray as I dodged screaming patrons in the thick of their loaded high. I spared a glance towards Spencer, whose performance now involved a vat of glitter that was upended over the stage. She was covered in glimmering pieces of tinsel, and the crowd roared in mixed enthusiasm and fear.

I vaulted over the bar to find Ava crouched below. I remained still as her gleaming grey eyes rose to mine, clear and void of any drug, showing only a healthy dose of weariness.

I pinched a corkscrew and knife off the counter. "Ava, it's time to go."

Her response was muffled by a series of loud booms resounding off the walls. Pink mist and fluorescent confetti engulfed the room, obscuring everything in sight—Spencer's warning that Ludus Maximus enforcements had arrived.

Crouching next to Ava, visibility was fading fast. "We have to leave. Now," I implored.

I closed her fingers over the knife handle and gave half a shrug. "I'd offer you a gun, but I couldn't hide it anywhere," I said, smirking down at my outfit (which could arguably be classified as such).

Her grasp tightened, features animating out of shock. "Are you Micah? Spencer told me you're Au—"

I pressed a finger to her lips. "Those names are too dangerous to state out loud. But yes, I'm his."

Her wavering lips lifted into a smile and I offered my own in return.

"I know a back entrance," she said. I let her lead me by the hand, her contact more bearable than most.

We reached the end of the bar where a guard blocked our way, only his imposing outline recogniseable through the thick smoke.

"What do we have here?" he asked, voice mocking and clear, portraying his lucid mind. "Our Daisy isn't trying to leave us, is she?" he clucked. "Get on your knees while we wait for this fucking mess to clear. You should know better, little flower, there's no escape for you."

I pushed Ava behind me and crouched into a fighting stance, the corkscrew sticking out between my fingers. "Your wish is my command, sweetie."

He swaggered forward and, like a good girl, I did as he asked and dropped to my knees, plunging the cork screw directly into his thigh, right to the hilt. I couldn't pull it out—I tried—my weapon stuck in his torn flesh.

With each tug, his breath hitched, a pained wheeze escaping through his teeth. Identifying a lost cause, I bolted to my feet, my hand blindly closing around the closest solid item as I proceeded to smash it over his hard skull.

His shadowed form unceremoniously slumped to the ground, alcohol and glass spraying in all directions. A regrettable frown dominated my face when I realised I was holding the remnants of a $10,000 champagne bottle. I brought the remainder to my lips and poured what was left of the expensive drink down my throat.

We skimmed the outskirts of the party, Ava blindly steering us down a smoke-filled corridor when my Variant stirred in my chest. Before I could recognise the call, the thick cloud diluted for one solitary second, one stagnant lapse in time that refocused my whole motivation, my entire night, my one goal.

Oscar Masatino strode directly past, no flicker or acknowledgment on his hard, determined face, resolute on his intended destination.

I hadn't realised I'd frozen until Ava dragged me around the corner, hand outstretched to open the side exit. I stopped her, enclosing her fingers in mine.

Leaning forward, I whispered instructions into her ear, omitting the most vital part: why I was deciding to stay.

She shook her head, attempting to protest and begging me to go with her, to no avail.

I would not miss this opportunity. I couldn't.

Before she could refute further, I pushed on the latch, shoved her through the door and flipped the lock straight after. Turning, I switched my earpiece on and ventured further into the depths of Forbidden Garden.

Spencer's high cackling came through immediately. "Did you see that finale? I swear, that's one of my best performances yet."

Emerson's distinct huff shortly followed.

Although we had state-of-the-art earpieces installed, we only used them in dire circumstances. We'd learnt early on that Spencer would use the open communication as a form of therapy, compromising more than one mission in the past.

I interrupted their taunts by announcing my link in. "Tell me you're at the point?"

As soon as they confirmed, I spoke over them, their voices drowned out by my command. "I've sent Ava to you. I want you to take her back to the Temple and keep her safe."

"Why? What will you be doing?" Spencer asked.

"I'm following another lead."

I didn't tend to keep things from my sisters. In fact, I never kept anything from my sisters. Secrets were a non-issue in our family, our trust unwavering. I now smothered that hopeless sentimentality beneath my resolve to protect them…and lied.

"It's nothing significant, just something I have to check out."

"We don't deviate from the plan, Micah," Emerson said.

"What plan? Most of it was improvised with glitter and smoke," I snarked while blindly navigating the bustling hallways, trusting in my Variant to lead the way, scoping for that same familiar aura.

"Ah, exactly," Spencer's voice high-pitched in my ear. "My epic P-L-A-N. Per usual, it fucking worked."

Car tyres screeched and slamming doors could be heard in the background. "The infantry have arrived, Micah," Emerson said. "The place will be crawling with more Ludus soon. Get your ass moving now."

Spencer huffed. "Bloody hell, we're over here, woman. Can you not see my hand waving at you?"

"She can't see you, her back's turned to us," Emerson replied.

"Can you see Ava?" I asked. My answer was a muffled scream that punctured down the earpiece.

Then Emerson's laugh carried over. "Let her go, Spence, before she screams the place down. Then none of us are getting home."

Stifled movements followed, then Spencer breathed. "I like your dress."

"You can't have it," I heard Ava reply from a distance.

"Hide it," said Emerson, and my mouth curved into a smile.

"Is that Eden's dog?" Ava asked.

My smile dropped as fast as it appeared. "What dog?"

A sharp bark came through the speaker, followed by a low growl.

"Where the hell did you have that hidden?" Emerson spat. "And who'd you steal a fucking dog off, Spence? Give it back."

"Her name is Fran, not it. And she belongs with us. Her name rhymes with Tan." Her voice was confident, as if that meant anything.

"She is actually he," Ava enlightened. "As you can tell by his massive balls hitting the pavement. Fran is short for Frankenstein."

"Don't give me that face, Meek. I'm not giving him back. Fran wanted to come with me. His previous owner was a downright cunt."

"Well, you're not wrong there," Ava replied.

Right on cue, Eden scurried past me on her hands and knees, hysterically screaming for her lost Fran. Spencer chuckled with mirth in the background.

As I turned the next corner, my Variant flared to life.

"Take Ava. If I'm not back in time, get Psycho out of Oakview. Don't wait for me."

Simultaneously, my sisters' berated shrieks echoed through the intercom. I removed the grain-sized gadget from my ear and crushed it beneath my high heel.

The musicgradually diffused as I tracked Oscar's aura further into the building. I'd passed countless passageways and descended multiple sets of stairs, the pink mist well and truly gone.

My steps slowed, movements wary as voices grew louder with my approach. Oscar's undeniably gruff tone could be heard through the wooden door in front of me, clearly unimpressed. "What the fuck happened up there? You know my boss puts confidentiality above all else. We don't like surprises." I couldn't hear the reply, except placating undertones.

All fell silent, as if they had disappeared. I hadn't come this far not to follow through.

My hand idled on the door handle when a solid weight slammed into my side, pushing my back against the adjoining wall, a steady palm held firmly against my mouth.

Surprise flickered through my system in clear warning. I didn't feel his approach, couldn't read his attack. He had fully invaded my space undetected.

Unheard of.

My expression cleared as his cold, dark brown eyes engulfed my own. I wasn't the only one slinking round this joint, the pristine black-haired male making his own exploration. And unlike his brother, he was dead sober.

I caught his hand as he retracted from my face, my fingers intentionally digging into the same brand raised on his inner wrist. He didn't stop me, didn't attempt to contradict my find.

The same blazing fury simmered in my veins at the confirmation. A high-ranked member of the Treasury, identified by the design of his brand alone: a coin with a dancing dragon in the centre, permanently engraved into his flesh.

My mouth curved into a scowl and I hissed. I pulled him closer and raised my knee to connect with his balls. He easily deflected the assault with a flick of his wrist and stepped out of range.

He was unnerving. Nil aura, nil emotion, nil inner being. He may as well have been dead inside, or not existed at all. My Variant wavered in my chest, as if trying to catch smoke with my bare hands.

"What the fuck did you do to my brother?" he snarled under his breath.

I folded my arms to stop my fingers from wrapping around his clean-shaven throat. I had to remain calm, before we were found. "He saw a ghost."

He caught the movement, eyes homing in on the centre of my chest, features stalling as he registered the golden crown tattoo of the Sovereign.

His lips hardly moved as he said, "Who are you?"

"I'm your fucking conscience, in living form."

His stare glazed over before he shook his head, as if to dispel past memories. He retreated backward, one careful step at a time. "Do not follow them down there. The Caverns are too vast and elaborate. It won't end well for you."

Why did it sound like he was concerned? Like he was warning me?

I had two options: pursue him, or pursue Oscar. The result wasn't even a conscious decision. Ever since I'd seen my father's old friend and enforcer alive, the need to enact revenge and gain answers had consumed my every waking moment.

Betrayal. The sole answer I could easily identify. So, with my Variant practically dying, cinders in my bones, I pushed away every cell in my body that screamed to stay, fight and interrogate the male in front of me.

I ignored his whispered warning and pushed down on the door handle. When I lifted my head, I saw a glimpse of respect flicker in the depths of his frigid gaze.

He dug in his inner suit pocket to flick something in my direction. On instinct, I caught the golden coin in the palm of my hand, the Treasury dragon emblem engraved on one side and a date and address on the other.

I pocketed the offer by slipping the coin beneath my breast, hoping the flimsy lingerie would hold.

"‘Till we meet again," I promised.

"King," he acknowledged, earring dangling as he tilted his head in farewell. His silent steps retreated down the corridor, disappearing like an eclipsed mirage, as if he was never there to begin with.