Within

Chapter Twenty

“Jeb brought us a nice one this time.” I felt someone touch my face, a thumb pressing against my lips and smooshing them. “Good body and face. Should sell well.”

Everything felt weird. I didn’t know how to explain it. My body felt strange, I couldn’t really feel.

A man with a thick Scottish accent responded, “But ‘e said she was a banshee.”

“Well, how do you think we combat that?”

“I say we slap a piece of tape on that mouth of ‘ers.”

“Or cut out her vocal cords, tongue, in the end... it’s not a problem.”

“Didn’t ‘e also say we can just give ‘er to the demons if she gives us some problems?”

The first answered affirmatively.

Feeling came back.

I groaned loudly, eyes opening. It took a while for my eyes to focus on the two men that stood before me. One was very tall (not as tall as Arthur), and everything about him just felt elongated. His face, arms, legs. He was like an overstretched rubber band ready to snap. The other was average, sort of handsome but not really.

The latter was the man with the Scottish accent. “She’s awake.”

“Yes, I see.” Rubberband Man bent down in front of me so that our eyes were even. “Hello, Camille.”

I simply glared at him, presuming that neither of them were on my side.

“You’ve been sold to us. You belong to us.”

I didn’t say anything for a while, my drugged mind working on processing this information. “How... Did Jeb do this to me?”

“Don’t ask questions. Don’t speak unless spoken to. Those are some ground rules, all right?”

I nodded my head, fearing what would happen if I happened to break these rules. Where was Arthur? Would he know that I was in danger? Was there some way for me to utilize our bond? I felt like crying. What was going to happen to me? Who were these men?

“Load her up, bring her to the auction,” Rubber Band Man said to the other.

The man nodded and watched who I presumed to be his superior leave the room. He then turned to me, disgust shining bright in his brown eyes. “A banshee. Can’t imagine who’d want you.” He paused, eyes raking up and down my body. “Then again, I can think of a few.”

He wrapped a blindfold over my eyes and gagged me before tying my hands to a rope and tugging on me. I fell to the ground immediately, legs weak and the drugs still swimming in my system.

“Let’s go,” the Scottish man commanded me, yanking me up to my feet.

Obviously, I couldn’t tell we were going, but I had a bad feeling. The other man had mentioned an auction, and all my thoughts surrounding that were bad with the context I had been given.

Selling me. Someone who wanted me.

It was pretty clear what was going to happen.

My ankles kept popping out and causing me to trip because of the unreasonable heels that I was wearing. I could’ve maybe handled them while I was sober, but definitely not now.

It made the man mad. He kept yelling at me, grabbing my hair roughly or pulling too hard on my restraints.

He called me a name, not my real one, but still staring with C. I was growing to understand that he belonged to the overwhelming majority that hated banshees. Jeb probably did too, seeing that he was the one who had given me to these people.

I thought about how nice he had been to me earlier. Offering me knowledge that others had refused to give to me. Then he got me high off my ass, drugged me with whatever was in that water, and then drugged me... again.

Arthur had trusted Jeb. I had done the same. Now I was here, about to get sold off to the highest bidder. What would I become? A s*x slave? A plaything for some psychotic murderer?

I felt tears prickling at my eyes, the wetness being soaked up by the cloth blindfold but some still falling down my face.

Why couldn’t I do anything right? Why couldn’t I have just declined Jeb? I should’ve insisted to stay with Arthur. I should’ve fought against Jeb--even if he was a vampire. I should’ve done something!

But now it was too late. I started to cry louder, my moans caught in the gag.

He noticed--of course--and wasn’t pleased by it. “Shut up.”

I did.

After a couple more minutes of walking, the blindfold was torn off and I found myself in what looked to be a dressing room.

“Take care of ‘er, then bring ‘er out front with the rest,” he demanded the young woman that sat there by herself. “Declan wants ‘er mouth covered--she’s a banshee. Nasty type, too.”

The girl (she couldn’t have been more than sixteen) nodded her head and jumped up, taking me away from him. “Stripped?” Like the man, she had an accent. Only hers was Spanish.

“Think so. Take care of it.”

He left then, leaving me with her.

“Hi,” she said. When I didn’t respond, she tapped her forehead and rolled her amber eyes. “Sorry, forgot that you can’t talk. Anyway, don’t worry. This isn’t as bad as some of the other places I’ve been. I’m Valentina.”

I flinched when she reached out to touch me. She withdrew her hand.

“Sorry... I don’t want to this either. But I’ll be hurt if I don’t, so can I, please?” I stared at her, tears still falling from my face. “I know, I know you’re scared. I was too. All of us were.” She offered me a small smile. “I’ll remove the gag, for now at least. If anyone comes back in, we’ll both be in trouble.” Valentina hesitantly moved forward and removed the gag from my mouth. “There.”

“Thanks,” I whispered, keeping my voice down so no passerby would hear. “What is this place? What’s going to happen to me?”

Valentina’s pretty face fell and she shrugged a little. “Honestly, I don’t know. It’s different for everyone. Some girls get lucky and no one buys them, meaning that they just have to work here... Like me.”

“Working here is considered being lucky?” I questioned, voice coming out sharper than I intended.

“Yeah,” Valentina said. “You don’t get stuck with some pervert. Anyway, you’re beautiful, so you’ll probably get sold...” She looked down, appearing sad. “I have to get you prepped for stage. Can you please take off your clothes?”

At first I hesitated, but the seriousness in Valentina’s tone lead me to believe that she wasn’t joking. And I didn’t want the young girl to get hurt for my own behaviour, so I listened to her.

Valentina guided me to a chair, taking her time to brush my hair before pulling it back in a tight ponytail. Valentina pricked my wrist with an object similar to a tattoo machine, I flinched with the needle punctured my delicate flesh. Slowly, a barcode formed on my wrist with a burning sensation. Magic, I recognized. She was a sorceress? They were human, but capable of using magic.

I felt like an item. “What’s going to happen?” I whispered, looking at her with growing fear.

Valentina shook her head and offered me another little smile, not knowing the answer herself.

A door opened then. I whipped around and Valentina gasped loudly, looking down at my uncovered mouth. A man stood there, he was older but it looked like the two were siblings.

“¿Qué estás haciendo?” he questioned her angrily.

Valentina looked down at her hands, her chest heaving. “Lo siento, pero ella--”

“No me importa.”

She was shaking now, rushing over. “Está bien, ella es muy simpática. No... no es una problema.”

I looked between the two of them, wondering what was being said.

Valentina continued ranting in Spanish, pleading with him, I think. It didn’t work, because the man raised his hand and struck her down. I watched in horror as the frail girl fell to the ground, sobbing and grasping her cheek.

“Mierda, Valentina.” He dragged a hand down his face. “¿Quieres morir?”

“No, no,” she cried.

I ran over then, not wanting him to hit her again. “Leave her alone,” I demanded. “Can’t you see how thin she is?”

“Shut up, b***h,” he spat at me, accent thick. He walked over and grabbed my gag from earlier and tying it around my mouth. I didn’t fight, not wanting to incur his wrath or to cause Valentina any more trouble. “Let’s go.” He paused and threw a glance back at his presumed younger sister. The man shook his head and grabbed my arm, yanking me out of the room and making me follow him.

He took me down a hallway (Were we even still in the club?) and lead me to this long line where other naked people all stood. There was a variety of men and women from all ages, all bearing a barcode on a wrist and fear in their eyes.

“Get in line. Stay there. Not a word.” Valentina’s brother left then, not even sparing a look back at me or any of the others.

I, like the others, kept my gaze directed down at the ground. No one was speaking, so I assumed that the threat was serious. The quiet was unnerving. Were they all like me? Had someone that they had trusted brought them here?

A voice called, “Bring in the next five!”

The line shifted forward. The woman in front of me started to shake a little, covering her mouth in attempt to muffle her tears. Her blonde hair, like me and the rest of the women, was in the same tight ponytail so I assumed that it was a uniform style.

I touched her bony shoulder lightly, hoping to offer her some comfort. She looked back at me, anthracite eyes meeting with mine. I nodded at her a little and her face fell, but she nodded back at me before turning around once more.

“Next five!” the voice from before shouted once more a few minutes afterwards.

We all shifted forward. I stood on my tiptoes to count how many people were before me now. Seven. Meaning that crying lady and I were going to be in the same group. It made me feel a little better. Which was stupid because we didn’t know each other or each other’s names, but I felt as if we had created a bond with just one glance.

“Next five.”

My breath hitched. I could see a little through the black curtain, but I had to nearly break my neck trying to sneak a peek. There were a lot of people in the audience. A stage.

The woman in front of me started to shake even more. She was older than me, but I still felt the motherly urge to comfort her.

Then it was our turn. A middle-aged man lead the way and we all went onto the stage, standing onto the pieces of tape put down in the shape of an X.

I swallowed, looking out at the crowd.

“Prospective buyers are allowed on stage at this moment to examine the merchandise,” a soothing, almost robotic female voice said. “Remember: if an offer is to be made, please scan the barcode on the item’s wrist to place it.”

Shuffling. People from the audience stood and got on stage, swarming us “items”. A crowd formed around me too, people touching me and pulling at my skin. The hell was wrong with them? One woman grabbed my breast and wondered aloud if it was real.

Saying that I was highly uncomfortable and close to a mental breakdown was not enough. I was ready to revert back into a fetus so that I didn’t have to feel their hands on my body.

Crying Lady was sobbing loudly now, her wailing causing the people around her to back off and move onto the others.

“Move,” a voice commanded suddenly. The crowd before me parted like the Red Sea, revealing a dark-haired man dressed in a business suit. He had chilling, icy blue eyes that stared straight forward at me unblinkingly. Like Arthur, though, he was very tall and unbelievable handsome. But he didn’t glow, so I wondered if he was a Nephilim or just belonged to another abnormally tall and beautiful species. “Why is there a gag in her mouth?” He shook his head when no one answered and grabbed my arm, pulling me away from the crowd and from everyone else.

Nobody said anything.

He took me to what I guessed was a private room, since no one else was there and not a single soul dared to knock on the door. He gave me a shirt to wear and a water after removing the gag from my mouth.

Then he just sat there, watching me. I looked everything but at him. My eyes taking in all the surroundings... which consisted of a empty room and two couches. And a mini-fridge, that’s where he had gotten the water from.

“Um...” I finally cleared my throat, the silence unbearable. “Are you buying me... or something?” I didn’t know how any of this worked. The lady on the PA had said if he wanted to make an offer, he was supposed to scan my barcode or whatever. But he had skipped over that part.

“No. I do not want you.”

Okay, ouch.

The man folded his hands onto his lap. “My name is William. What is yours?”

“Camille.”

He continued to stare at me, his gaze harsh. “Camille, could you tell me how you got here?”

“I was kidnapped... by the guy who was supposed to be protecting me. But he drugged me and gave me to this guy named Declan and a mean Scottish man.”

“You were sold,” he surmised.

I nodded my head, pressing my lips together. “Yeah.”

“You are a banshee, am I correct?”

Softer, “Yeah.”

He shifted in his seat, facial expression changing slightly. “Now tell me... Why are you--an unholy creature--bonded to the Nephilim Arthur?”