Sinister Seductions (Book 1 The Flower of Bottesford Series)

Chapter 5: Playing Nice

I had misjudged, I knew that now. I had been certain that my next location was closer to the club than this. But apparently my sense of time, place, and direction sucked royally. To top it all off it had started raining again. Damn it.

Cold, wet, and miserable I made my way down the darkened streets. After nearly half an hour of bumbling around, I finally felt as though I was in the right neighbourhood or at least close to it. I determined this due to the way the atmosphere of the streets had changed, going from generally unfriendly and unpleasant to downright menacing in seconds. Not an area for nice girl to get lost in. Luckily though I was the furthest thing from a nice girl.

I dug deep into the pocket of my black leather coat, keeping my head low under the pretext of avoiding getting rainwater in the eyes. In reality I was use the hood of my coat in an attempt to hide my face from the peering eyes that I was sure were watching. I finally located the item I was searching for, pulling out a UV flash light.

Shining the light on the walls of the condemned buildings around me, I slowed the blazingly fast pace I had been walking at to escape the rains. Peering blearily into the dark, I eventually found what I was looking for. A hieroglyphic sigil, reminiscent to a gold sun setting over a gold ocean, blazed overhead of a rusted out metal door with no handle. Standing in front of my unassuming looking destination, I took a deep breath trying to mentally steel myself.

Am I ready to deal with all of this s**t? Hell to the no. Is there really any other choice? Also no.

I raised my fist to the door, hesitating ever so slightly, cursing myself inwardly as I noticed the tremor running through my hand.

‘Jesus girl, you fought and destroyed the Nine Witches of Obsidia without hesitation. But you can’t knock on a damn door?’ I chided myself humorlessly. And before I could talk myself out of it, let my fist come down in three strikes.

One second, two seconds, three seconds, four…

Suddenly a square piece in the centre of the door disappeared, not opened, but simply went transparent and wasn’t there anymore. I found myself staring into two pitch black eyes.

“Azmaria Belvoir hear to see Hennessey De Luca,” I stated emotionlessly. No response. “I was told I am expected.”

The black eyes continued to stare unblinkingly as the hole in the door slowly covered itself up. A click could be heard as the door swung inwards.

‘Well, here goes nothing…’

The door swung shut of its own accord the moment I set foot inside the doorway. As it closed, I noticed there was no handle on the inside either. Entry to this place was magically controlled. Not the best situation for me to be in if things went south.

Which was almost guaranteed to happen as I was, both literally and figuratively, cursed.

I looked downward and met the black eyes of the goblin who had been sent to greet me at the door. His scaly skin shone slightly in the dim light, contrasting the patchy strands of dark hair on his head. Overall he was smartly dressed in a blue striped business suit, and I would have thought the outfit adorable if he wasn’t looking at me over his long hooked nose like he would skin me alive if given the chance.

He stared at me intensely, and I returned his gaze passively though unwilling to back down, understanding what he was trying to do to me. Goblins are tricky creatures, actively searching for ways to further benefit themselves. If they sense hesitation or weakness in their victims they will exploit it; typically in the worst way possible. I am fairly certain they were an entire race of sadists.

After several long seconds, when he realised I was unperturbed and not budging, he grudgingly turned around and began to walk down the hall. I followed him, assuming that is what I was supposed to be doing.

As we went, I marvelled at the architecture and décor of the inside of the building, the complete opposite of the rundown conditions of the outside. High vaulted ceilings with a Greco-Roman flair were trimmed in white crown mouldings and what I was sure was gold; red and black velvet curtains hung over archways for both decorative purposes and to shield areas from prying eyes; the shimmering ivory walls were lined with oil paintings, marble sculptures, and busts of all sorts. I was sure I would be able to identify the artwork eventually, but now was not the time.

My little goblin friend led me through the maze of hallways without speaking; I did my best not to reveal my concern as I constructed my best mental map to remember the twists and turn we were taking, in case I needed to make a hasty exit. As we went deeper and deeper into the complex, I began to feel more and more uneasy and ever so slightly claustrophobic, and the slow realisation sunk in that if things went wrong I was probably not leaving this building alive.

After several minutes of what seemed like aimless wandering to me, my nameless goblin friend stopped me in front of a pair of wide set oak doors, before grumbling to me in his raspy voice, “Wait in here and touch nothing.”

He waited for me to nod in understanding, clearly not believing I would do as I was told, before heading back down the hall the way we came.

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As I watched him waddle away on his stunted little legs, a strange sense came over me, and I knew that one more thing needed to be done before we parted.

“Hey!” I called out to him, startling him into a dead stop, “What’s your name?”

He turned back to me, surprise flitting across his features, but he soon returned it to what I was beginning to assume was his characteristic expression: cold, grumpy, and irritated. He appeared to be debating whether or not to answer me, and likely pondering why I would be asking in the first place. Clearly trying to determine my end game, if I had one.

Good luck with that, I rarely ever knew what my end game was. I generally operated more on instinct and gut feelings.

It was understandable that he was hesitant though as goblins were naturally secretive creatures. It also didn’t help either that, out of all the races, goblins tended to be the most despised among both the human and supernatural communities. I had never understood why. I assumed it was due to the generally off putting nature of the goblin appearance combined with that natural cunning that they used to exploit the weak. Not that all goblins were like that, but it was like any person, place, or thing; one bad apple spoils the bunch.

It also didn’t help that he clearly knew who I was before I arrived here, and was likely well aware of the power he was handing me by giving me his name. I decided to break the ice a little bit.

“Come on, you can tell me. I don’t bite much, I promise,” I said, teasing him, “Though I hear you guys like that sort of thing.”

A ghost of a smile crossed his wide lips, before he forced the natural goblin scowl back on. He was cracking slowly, I could tell. I waited slightly on edge, willing him to answer me. I didn’t know why, but I had an instinctive knowledge that I needed to befriend this creature. That it would be imperative for me to be in his good graces in the future.

“Arsen,” he finally responded, “My name is Arsen Krueger.”

I smiled at him warmly, “Well you know my name already, but you can call me Ria. Azmaria is a mouthful and way too formal.” I paused. “Thank you for helping me.”

“I am Mr. De Luca’s chief of staff, Miss Ria. It is my job,” Arsen responded with a confident tone. He was clearly proud to work for Mr. De Luca.

I shrugged at that, “But still, thank you anyways.”

Arsen nodded back to me, looking at me with an impassive look that I couldn’t read. We had another momentary stare down, though this one was not as intense as the last one. He gave himself a little shake before turning his back to me and continuing on his way. I had made an impression on him; I hope it was enough.

Turning back to the oak doors I gave myself my own little shake. Taking a moment to admire the fine detailed ivy carvings into the wood, I used the distraction to momentarily calm my nerves. Exhaling deeply to prepare myself for what was about to go down, I pushed my way inside.