Chapter 10 #2
We step off the plane and into a narrow hallway lined with sconce lights flickering orange. The air smells like earth, soot, old stone, and something colder.
She leads us down it, passing several unmarked doors. The passage twists so many times that I get disoriented.
"What is this place?" I finally ask.
"Stop asking questions, Brax. And don't forget, they're always listening and watching," she warns.
A chill digs into my bones. I adhere to her warning, looking for recording devices, but I don't see any.
She stops in front of a heavy metal door with two wooden hinges bolted into the wall beside it. On one hanger, a crimson thong with a matching red satin eye mask dangles. On the other hangs a black tuxedo jacket, crisp white shirt, black pants, and a red, gleaming skull mask.
Every muscle in my body goes rigid. I step in front of her, blocking the door. "What the hell are we walking into?"
She pushes past me and grabs the thong off the hanger. "I don't know."
"Then how do you know where to go?"
"I said I don't know, Brax." Her voice cracks just slightly. She swallows, avoiding my eyes. "This wasn't on the agenda. I was summoned. Same as you."
Summoned.
Because they own me.
They don't.
Before I can say another word, she reaches under her dress. She pulls off her black panties and steps into the red thong, then shimmies into it.
"What are you waiting for? Get dressed," she orders.
I shake my head but turn and pull the shirt off the hanger. I remove my clothing, get into the tux, then spin.
My mouth salivates.
Her dress pools at her feet. The curve of her waist dips beautifully, displaying a thin satin strip between her ass cheeks. She reaches behind her, unclasps her bra, and drops it next to her dress.
She spins confidently, head held high, yet the sconce light shows the flicker of vulnerability.
My eyes drop to the white V across her torso and chest.
She stiffens.
I drag my eyes to hers. "You're still beautiful, Minx."
Shame washes across her face in a way that guts me. She puts on her eye mask and orders, "Put your mask on."
I glance at the skull mask, wondering what Sean's father was thinking when he created the hollow, soulless, twisted empire it represents.
"Please put it on," she begs.
I clench my jaw and slide it over my face.
"Ready?" she asks.
"No," I answer honestly.
"Sorry. The Underworld doesn't wait." She opens the metal door.
A deep, vibrating, "Ooooooohhhhhmmmmm," rattles my bones. It echoes off stone pillars and swells into the warm night air. Stars fill the sky, there's a full moon, and I glance around in awe.
It's a massive outdoor arena. Thousands of masked figures stand around the perimeter in tuxedos, holding lit torches. Women wear long, red dresses and fancy eye masks, mirroring Valentina's.
The chanting grows louder.
"Ooooooohhhhhmmmmm. Ooooooohhhhhmmmmm."
A huge stage sits in the middle. The only things on them are two steel tables.
One's flat, meant for lying down. The other table is a two-top.
Two tattoo artists in black leather aprons and masks like mine sit waiting, machines gleaming, needles already loaded.
The one at the two-top has an empty chair across from him.
A man in a black robe with a black-skull mask steps forward. His voice booms, "Welcome to the Ceremony of the Scarlet Seal."
My blood runs ice cold.
What the hell are they going to do to us now?
Valentina flinches so slightly that no one else would notice, but I do.
I put my arm around her waist and tug her into me.
She glances up at me in surprise.
The man in the black robe steps closer.
"Don't touch her," I snarl.
He orders, "Take your position, Valentina. Brax, sit in the chair."
"What's going on?" I ask her.
She forces a smile. "You're moving up a level. Your skull gets its color. It's fine. Go sit down."
It sounds innocent, but I know nothing in the Underworld is as it seems. So I blurt out, "And you?"
She lifts her head. Her voice sounds brave. "I get color, too. Sit, Brax." She steps next to the bigger table and lies down on it.
It hits me.
"You're coloring her mark? That's going to be excruciatingly painful for her!"
"Brax, it's fine. Sit down. Please," she begs again.
The war inside me rages hard.
"Don't cause any trouble," she pleads.
I sit. Not because I want to but because I'm afraid of what they may do to her if I don't.
The tattoo artist snaps on gloves. He grabs my hand and positions it, stating, "Keep it still." The machine buzzes to life and red ink stamps the skull.
Pain ripples through my arm. I grit my teeth, used to the feeling since it's not my first tattoo. But then I pin my gaze on Valentina.
She lies on the steel table, gripping the edges so hard her knuckles turn white. Her breathing quickens, and she cringes under her eye mask, while scarlet ink gets stained over the V.
"Let her go," I growl, trying to stand.
Hands shove me back down. A masked man warns, "Don't move again." A knife slides next to my neck. Another man holds one next to hers.
Shit.
The entire time they shade my skull, I watch the needle color her knotted skin.
They strip every layer of her open, ink burning into the most intimate part of her body while she lies there, exposed to hundreds of masked strangers.
Her entire body stays rigid, her fingers clamped on the edge of the table.
She bites her lip so hard she draws blood.
Silent tears slide down her temples into her hairline.
When they finish mine, I'm told not to move out of my seat.
Hours pass. Red ink slowly blooms across her body, filling every curve, every hollow, until the scarlet color is bright, violent, and public for all to see.
The chanting never stops, intensifying at times and slowing at others.
Valentina endures every second of pain, never uttering a sound.
My vision tunnels. My pulse pounds so hard I feel it in my gums. Raw fury claws up my throat. By the time the machines go quiet, I'm drenched in sweat, chest heaving.
Her tattoo artist puts his needle down. The man who held the knife to her throat pulls her into a sitting position, then helps her off the table.
She tries to stand, but her legs buckle.
I surge forward, catching her before she hits the floor.
Her head drops against my shoulder, breath trembling. "Don't…say anything."
I clench my jaw and wrap an arm around her waist, shielding as much of her bare skin as I can.
"Step back, Brax!" the black robe man orders.
I hurl, "It's complete. Let us go."
"The ceremony is not complete," he announces.
The hairs on my arms rise. I grit through teeth, "What else do you want from us?"
"From you? Nothing. Valentina, go stand on the X," he directs.
I glance at the X in the middle of the stage floor.
Valentina squeezes her eyes shut, then takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and lifts her head. She steps onto the X.
The robed man lifts his hands. "The Scarlett Seal is completed. Renew the bond of blood and loyalty!"
Silence fills the arena so quickly, a chill runs down my spine. It lasts about a minute, then frantic whispers break out. They get so loud they vibrate through my chest.
Valentina stands, her hands shaking, staring straight at the crowd.
I rush over to her and grab her hand.
She looks up at me.
I squeeze her hand and stare straight ahead.
The whispers don't let up, and it goes on and on, until one thing is clear. It gets sealed deep inside me.
I will burn this entire fucking Underworld to the ground.