Despite my mind being much clearer, I had no way of knowing whether my speed or strength was back to normal, and I wasn't about to test it against what looked to be around fifty to seventy well armed individuals. Based on the fact that they were all here buying humans, I hardly thought they would blink twice at casual murder.
After what seemed like hours, I was the only “lot” left for auction. The sweaty, overweight man manhandled me up to the stage when I didn't move fast enough for his liking.
“Now, ladies and gentlemen, for a special treat we have a late entry into tonight's auction. An American girl, lot fifty-four is a little older than our usual selection, but with age comes experience. She has all her own teeth, is in excellent health, and yes, she is a natural redhead.”
She paused to force out a laugh that grated against my nerves. “That means the carpet does match the drapes, gentlemen.” I stifled a snort at this ludicrous comment because, for one, no one actually said clichéd statements like that anymore, and, for two, this woman had clearly never heard of laser hair removal.
“There has already been prior interest in this lot, so the bidding begins at one million. Do we have any takers to start us off?” The woman gestured like she was some sort of deranged game show host, but I gaped at the starting cost. One million what? Dollars? I guess it's not a cheap business, kidnapping, transporting, then selling unwilling women.
“Ah, I see we have our first bid: one million to number thirty-three in the front.” The woman smiled pleasantly, waving her hand toward the bidder in her ridiculous game show way.
I followed the direction of her gesture, and a terrified shiver of ice ran down my spine.
The bidder made no effort to hide his face in the shadows like the rest of the room; instead he met my surprised gaze with confidence and smiled a cruel, victorious smile like a shark who had just found a crippled seal cub.
His face had aged significantly since I’d last seen him, but there was no mistaking his burning, nasty eyes. He held my petrified gaze as he spoke to continue his bids against other interested parties. Sharp needles of fear cut through me at his familiar voice. Mr. Grey. Of all the possible culprits behind this kidnapping, I had never even considered the possibility of him.
His gloating grin dropped abruptly, a flash of panic cutting across his face, which snapped me from my frozen horror.
“Here!” he snapped, louder this time, his attention back on the auctioneer. His brow creased heavily, and his cheeks flushed with anger.
“Final bid is with The Rom—I mean, with bidder twelve, at three and a half million. Are there any further bids?” the glittering auctioneer announced politely, point-blank ignoring Mr. Grey's paddle in the air.
“Here! I said here! Four!” Mr. Grey bellowed, standing from his seat and waving his paddle madly.
The woman auctioneer beside me made a subtle motion to a security guard. I watched as he sidled up to Mr. Grey and clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder, pushing him forcefully back into his seat.
“Final bid at three and a half million dollars, going once…” the woman continued as though no one had spoken, and Mr. Grey looked like he was about to blow a gasket. His face was so red it was closer to purple, and his eye twitched like he had a spasm. He cast a look at the guard, who kept a huge hand clamped on his shoulder, and must have decided to keep his mouth shut. I imagined these weren’t the sort of security guards you wanted to piss off.
“…going twice… Sold, to bidder twelve. Congratulations, sir, an excellent buy.” The sparkling woman purred out the final nail in my coffin as though bidder twelve had just bought a lovely tea set rather than a living person. I guessed I should have been grateful, though, that whoever had just bought me clearly wasn't associated with Mr. Grey, judging by the furious set of his jaw. A wave of relief conflicted with the overwhelming panic that someone had just bought me.
As I tried not to hyperventilate and do something stupid that would ultimately result in me ending up a bloody mess on the carpet, another guard stepped up and buckled the obligatory collar around my neck. Using the leash, he then jerked me down from the stage to pass me off to my owner, like a pedigree puppy.
Having just been pulled all too quickly down the shallow stairs while wearing six-inch platform stilettos, when we came to an abrupt stop at the table of bidder twelve, I was too busy trying not to fall flat on my face to take a proper look at the man who just spent three and a half million dollars to buy me. Fuck only knew what he was going to expect in exchange for that type of money. Good thing I had no intention of sticking around to find out.
By the time I had sufficiently steadied myself, my leash had already been handed over and the guard was nowhere to be seen. I tilted my chin up defiantly, aiming my very best death glare at the man who had the audacity to purchase a woman. Disappointingly though, his face was still in shadow, so I had no idea if he was even looking at me, let alone feeling the full, wrathful impact of my glare.
There was an awkwardly long pause, but eventually the man chuckled with a deep, liquid chocolate sound and leaned forward into the light, tugging my leash to bring me closer. My eyes widened, and I gasped as I took in his face. He was young and gorgeous, maybe mid-twenties at most, with dark coloring that hinted at Eastern European lineage. His wavy hair was worn longer than I was used to, almost reaching his shoulders, and his gray eyes sparked a sense of déjà vu.
“Do I know you?” I tried to ask, but the drugs must still have been affecting me more than I realized because it just came out as a slurred jumble of noise.
He scowled at my attempt to speak, his granite gray eyes like thunderclouds. Standing abruptly, he stepped into my personal space and forced me to tilt my chin to look up at him, despite my high heels.
“Vin. S? plec?m,” he rumbled in a smooth, velvety voice that held me captive for a moment, and I barely even registered that I had no idea what he had said.
“Huh?” I gave up on real words, but noises seemed fine. The young man scowled his thunderclouds at me once more, jerking his head to an entourage I hadn't yet noticed. At his words, they had all stood from their seats and were waiting, ready to leave. He gestured politely towards the exit, indicating that I should start walking, but I couldn't seem to make my feet move as I stared hard at the leash in his hand.
Is this seriously fucking happening right now? God I hope this is all a bad dream.
I had anticipated that whoever bought me would have maybe two or three goons with him, which I could have handled pretty easily by myself once we’d left the auction. Whoever this guy was, he must be important because his entourage consisted of roughly fifteen burly looking men—that I could see so far—and who knew how many more once we left this room. Shit.