28. Evan

28

EVAN

H ellena screams as I tackle her to the ground, taking the brunt of the fall with my body.

Debris is everywhere. I'm flat on my back, ears ringing. She's coming to, lying on top of me, mumbling and confused.

Other guests are running, making for the exits, screaming.

Chaos.

The guards are scattered, more concerned with getting Vice to his vehicle, out of the blast radius, away from the danger. One problem solved. At least for the moment.

My head clears, the scarlet haze of my rage draining to hollow, bone-deep exhaustion.

I force us up, pulling Hellena to her feet along behind me. I shove my way through the press, straight to the side wall, to the secret exit I installed for emergencies.

Hellena snatches at my arm, yanking me around to face her. "What the fuck is going on?" Hatred tints her words.

"I don't expect you to understand. I don't expect you to forgive me. I do expect you to run. Get to the garage, get out and away from him. Go to Gavin."

"Wait! Evan, what are you—" I shove her into the doorway, slamming the reinforced door shut behind her. I hear her slam against it, banging, screaming for me.

I block it out, my heart in shattered little pieces inside my chest. Everything I planned tonight collapses around me.

My entire event is up in fucking smoke.

The plan I had to buy Hellena myself, to defy my orders, was foiled. The second I moved to raise my paddle, they pulled me away, members of my own staff, distracting me, forcing me to go deal with an overdose.

By the time I got the onsite medical staff to her and back to the atrium, she was already sold, being dragged away. All of it felt like a blow to my chest.

The meeting, the "special guest". I should have seen this coming. The big two, the Ghosts and the Block going to war, was a ruse. A minor threat.

The mayor and city council are making their move. And the Matron, the Herald, is just letting it play out. Like we always do. See how things go and play our moves in the background.

Which I could tolerate. I could fall in line if the lives on the line were gang members. Mobsters.

Not hers.

Not the woman I love.

That's what this is. This crack in my chest that's been splitting me in two since the day we met.

I don't know if I can ever say those words, but I felt it every time we touched, danced. Especially when we came together on that stage.

It's the single most pure and holy moment of my existence.

So even if it's too late to have her, I will save her.

Smoke and dust haze the area as I storm back toward the doors. Who the fuck would have a reason to set off a bomb at the Sinner's Ball?

So many questions that I don't have time to find answers to, just like I can't give Hellena any explanation why I did what I did tonight.

My position still warrants that I get the staff out, the guests to safety. I shout orders, singling out specific guards, waiters, some of my dance crew. They're on cattle herding duty in seconds, guiding the coughing, terrified guests to the shuttles, back to SH.

Next, I head backstage to Nadia and the troupe, giving them orders to find every performer we brought in and get them out the back way. Many of them need to maintain their anonymity and be delivered to the airport in the next state to get them home.

I'll have to pay them double for their trouble, for their silence.

Among the rabble, I find several medics, partygoers revealing themselves as doctors, nurses. All tending to the fortunate few wounded. They'll need to be compensated for their heroism.

I'm halfway back to the escape route, hoping I might catch up with Hellena, see her to safety, when the Matron cuts me off, her personal guard sweeping me up in their dash to the back of the facility. "Come on! We need to regroup. Any one of those bastards could take a shot at us right now!"

My heart's pounding as I struggle, looking back hopelessly. She's right.

The Block, or the Ghosts, even the mayor's men could take this chance to dispose of the Herald or me. It would weaken the Sinful, tipping the balance toward them.

For that matter, any one of them might have set the bomb off to do just that.

"Fuck!" I shout as the safe room door slams shut, the guards staying out in the antechamber as a buffer in case someone breaks through the first door. "I fucking screwed up!"

I hate myself for what I did. What I had to do.

To her.

I'm breaking in half.

"Pull yourself together, Evan!" the Herald snaps, pacing. "None of this was your fault."

"Auctioning Hellena was. Serving her up to that bastard…"

"You were following orders, weren't you?"

"Yes. But I was supposed to win her in the auction."

"Is that so?" She tilts her head. The Herald is everything the Sinful value. Clever. Ruthless. Smart. "I was only told that she needed to be offered. Additionally, I had no clue who was coming, who that guest was. We've both been deceived, I'm sure of it."

"By whom? One of the Sinful?"

"I'm not sure. I don't think any of the Seven are compromised." It's a slip on her part. I've never heard that term used before in relation to our bosses. Just like I only speak to the Herald, the Matron of the Ball, twice a year, and then only over the phone.

"Vice might have set it up, but they seemed just as stunned as we are," I offer, running my hand through my hair. "They hustled Vice out of here as soon as it happened."

"It could be anyone. There's no way to know tonight. The Mayor, Clive, Devonde, they're scattered. No way to know if anyone is missing." She ponders, scratching the strap of her mask. She never takes it off.

Suddenly, she pauses, looking at me. "Where is Hellena?"

"I got her out."

"What? Got her out where?"

"I sent her through the emergency exit, to escape."

"And you didn't go with her?" her normally smooth, buttery voice shrills into a worried shriek.

"Of course not. I had to stay here."

"Then she should have stayed with you! Put her in another room, keep her out of harm's way!"

The words register, but the meaning leaves me shaking my head.

"Listen, all of our people are safe. We'll regroup. Hellena will be fine. She has a friend who can keep her safe?—"

"That doesn't matter , Evan." I flinch, even though I should have guessed she knows who I am. "None of that matters. The auction being interrupted will set us back, not to mention the loss of trust from our members, and from the populace. The city council is going to have a heyday with this. The Sinful will have our asses!"

"We'll make concessions, gifts. I can set up a silent, private auction to recoup our losses?—"

"That's not what I meant! The auction was everything, because of Hellena. It was the first move in a very careful plan."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're a favor dealer. A pawn. You're on a need to know basis. And you need to go find her. Now!"

"Bullshit!" Hellena's mouth is wearing off on me. "Why is she important to their plans? What were you told to do with her?"

My hackles rise, suspicion igniting a lethal rage in my chest.

Her hands slam down on the ornate desk spanning her side of the room. "She is crucial. That is all you need to know."

It starts to dawn on me that my orders were a play, maneuvering me. If the Sinful have an interest in Hellena, it can't be good. In fact, it's likely something horrible.

My fists crack as I ball them at my sides, taking several strides across the room, facing her down. "Tell me who Hellena is. Who you are."

The Matron shakes her head, laughing. Right before her laughter rattles into a shriek of anger as she tears off her mask, shattering it against the wall. Dark, chocolate curls fall to her shoulders around a round, familiar face.

A face that bears a striking resemblance to Hellena.

I've seen her in a photo, in Hellena's file. Social media posts.

Rachelle Tyson. Hellena's aunt.

I restate my earlier question. "Why is she so important? Because she's your niece?" I shouldn't have to ask that. Yet I know that's not the issue at hand.

She glares at me, her chest heaving. "Because… Hellena is next in line to lead the Sinful. She's a blood relative of one of the Seven. I was told to let her be sold to a guest bidder. I assume that was you, since you were told to buy her. " She knows I made that up.

"So, Marco was a fluke?"

"A mistake. Yes. Or there's more going on than we know. All I know was that she was supposed to fall farther into our debt, wholly into our care. To be delivered ."

"To whom? Where?" I sound like a fool, babbling, scrambling for info.

"To wherever she needs to go to learn how to take over, I guess!"

My brain races. "Is that why you took her in?"

"Of course. She needed to be guided, sheltered. And then she needed to be prepared for what's to come. We need to find her."

With that, she's around the table, jerking the doors open. "Things are probably calmed down enough to send out a party. Gerald, gather a search team?—"

"No!" I interrupt, stepping into her path. "Let me try first. She's going to be scared. Besides, if you send random guys after her, who knows what her roommate will do?" I widen my eyes to punctuate the statement.

"Very true. But you need to track her down. Retrieve her and get her to one of the safehouses. Somewhere no one can find her." Her finger taps my chest as she says it, sending shocks of anger through my arms, down my legs. Domineering bitch.

"Don't worry, Rachelle. I'll make sure your niece is safe and sound."

The narrowed gaze she gives me tells me that might have been an error, but she's pushed me too far. Everything has tonight.

I'm in my car, roaring back toward town in minutes.

No sign of Hellena in the parking lot. Which means she got a ride. Or was taken.

Her phone is still sitting in my passenger seat.

So, I make another call to someone I really don't want to talk to.

He'll know how to find her and be willing to help me with another plan I'm forming in the back of my head.

The only question is, when I find Hellena, will she ever look me in the eye again?