Callum looks away from the surveillance footage, furrowing his heavy brows in suspicion and folding his large arms across his chest like a disappointed father. Raithe raises his dark brows and gives me a ‘no shit?’ look like he’s impressed. I huff out a laugh. These guys really couldn’t be any different. ‘Later,’ I say to them with a single look, one that doesn’t require words.
“Now, let’s go over tonight’s show. Shall we, boys?” Sabel says, changing the subject as she pushes off the desk and walks over to the debriefing room. We follow behind her. I walk with my hands fisted by my sides, nails digging into my palms to stop myself from strangling her to death.
“I know what you’re thinking, man, and we probably all are. But … later. Okay?” Raithe whispers. I give a quick nod, but I know he can see the fire in my eyes. I know he can sense the fury within them that’s just begging to be released.
We pass by a couple of other surveillance rooms and make a right into a larger area with a full self-service bar, several black leather lounge chairs, and low lighting from various sconces adorned on the walls. I head straight for the bar and pour myselfa whiskey neat. I don’t usually drink. I hate the way it dulls my senses, and I prefer to be on alert at all times. However, right now, I know that if I don’t dull one sense in particular, then I’ll rip this building to shreds and then burn it to nothing but ash. So, I pour myself that drink and knock it back in one sip, setting the crystal glass back down on the bar top and leaning back against the ledge. Raithe and Cal sit in a couple of lounge chairs in the far corner across the room, as Sabel hands them each a printout of today’s data. I sigh, pushing off the bar to walk over and take a seat on Cal’s left near the closest exit point.
“Today’s data shows a marginal rise in favorable results. If you look at the graphs on page two,” Sabel says, turning the page, “you’ll find that the heart rate, blood pressure, and respiratory rates of participants all point to a rise in alpha waves. There were a few outliers, one that will need a closer look, but for the most part, this is promising. The frequencies are working. Our sales are up and climbing by the day. I think we’re ready for phase two.” She shuts the data log.
“Phase two?” I ask, suddenly on alert. This is the first I’m hearing of anyphase. I knew the bitch was up to something.
“Yep. You’re on a need-to-know basis, Riven. And that’s all you currentlyneedto know.” She turns and starts walking out of the room. She doesn’t even make it to the doorway when I hear her voice.
“Riven, come with me. The rest of you are dismissed.”
Why did I think it would be easy to get out of here tonight? I get up and reluctantly follow behind her.
“You good? Want us to wait?” Cal asks, ever the protector.
“Nah. Go ahead and see if you and Raithe can find Kai. I’ll shoot a text when I leave,” I say, turning and walking out of the room. I don’t look back or wait for a response. I know they’ll do what I ask of them. They’re loyal to a fault, and neither of themwants to test Sabel’s threats of punishment. We all know what she’s capable of.
I follow Sabel into her office at the complete other end of the hallway. She strides over the deep plum carpeting to her tacky red desk, plopping down in her tall, creepy, throne-like chair. She motions for me to take a seat in a chair across from her. I sit, staring at the giant picture placed on the black wall above her head. It’s a giant photo ofherholding a tiny white chihuahua, its beady black eyes staring into my soul. I grimace. I always did dislike those dogs, so small and yappy. It’s fitting for a person like Sabel, though. I focus my attention back on Sabel, but I can feel the walls in my periphery. This room isn’t big by any means, but sitting in it with her makes it feel all the more constricting.
“So, Riven, do you want to tell me the real reason why the daughter of the high-profile client you murdered was at your show tonight?”
I’m pretty sure the walls on either side of me do close in now.
6
Sloane
“Did you have a good time?” Lydia asks.
“Yeah, I did,” I say back, staring out the back driver’s side window of the Uber. It’s not a lie, I did enjoy myself. But as entertaining as it was, it was equally suspicious. Thinking back on it, several people in the crowd had the same dazed, hypnotic look in their eyes that Lydia did. And now, all I can think about is whatever happened in that room with Vantros. The mystery of it all has my thoughts reeling the whole ride back to my apartment.
? ? ?
I walk back downstairs after a long, thought-filled shower. Lydia is sitting on my deep green velvet sofa in my living room, a cupof chamomile tea in hand. I plop down next to her, a low sigh escaping my lips.
“Tea?” Lydia asks, reaching around the side of the sofa and grabbing an untouched cup for me. She hands it over to me, and I sigh when the warmth of the cup touches my skin.
“Thanks,” I say, taking a sip of the tea and setting it back down on the end table beside the sofa.
“Out with it,” Lydia says, turning to fully face me on the sofa.
“Didn’t you find it weird the way everyone was acting at the concert?” I ask, taking another sip of tea.
“What? Weird that everyone was enjoying themselves? Can’t you loosen up and live in the moment? Gosh, Lo. You are such a Virgo.” Ah, there goes her obsession with astrology. That girl loves to psychoanalyze a person’s entire Zodiac chart, and she’s usually spot on. She’s informed me that apart from being a natural born Virgo, I’m also a Scorpio Moon and Libra rising. I usually nod and smile, not completely into the whole Zodiac thing as much as she is.
She leans her head back against the sofa, sighing as she turns her gaze toward me. “You don’t have to overanalyzeeverything, you know. Youareallowed to have fun.”
“I know, I know. I just …”
She interrupts me, sitting straight up and wiggling her eyebrows as she says, “I saw the way you were looking at Van. You were fan-girling over him like the rest of us. All heart eyes and sex face. Mhmm. I see you.” She’s giggling now, and it’s a warm, contagious sound.
“I was not!” I say defensively, shoving her a little. Was I? No, definitelynot. Not when he was on stage and not when he was pressed up against me in that room. A memory that I do not mention to her. There’s too much to unpack there, and now isnotthe time.
After finishing our tea and a couple ofThe Haunting of Hill Houseepisodes on Netflix, we call it a night. I head upstairs to my room, and Lydia to my guest room downstairs. I climb into bed immediately, worn out from the concert and drowsy from the chamomile. Sleep claims me quickly, filling my mind with flashes of ethereal music, cults, and men in beautiful masks with large hands.
