Chapter 36 The Photos
S omehow, I manage to fall asleep.
Before that, I’d tried to ring my old phone. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t even connect. Then I tried the club, the same result.
I cursed myself for not memorising the others’ numbers, even when I knew it would have been pointless. The lockdown would stop any attempt at communication outside this district.
The last thing I did was set an alarm, and I awoke before it, just before 5am.
When I glance at my phone, the bare chest which greets me causes my power to vibrate heavenly. I sigh at the sensation, the way it eases my thoughts and aches simultaneous. Then I notice the small white bubble in the top corner.
I already know who it is. Vibrations turns into pleasant crackles which run over my skin just before I open his messages.
4:30am.
“I’m going to assume you’re so mesmerised by the photos you haven’t had chance to text me, otherwise, I’ll be extremely disappointed.”
Photos .
As in plural ?
I find the photo album embarrassingly fast and my mouth drops open.
There’re at least twenty images of Sai, topless, markings fully displayed, and my eyes greedily consume.
Every. Single. One.
They vary between selfies which include a snippet of his jaw and full body, and mirror images. Without realising, I’ve been swiping between two very similar mirror pictures before stopping on one.
He's leaning against a door frame, his dark curls are wet, covering his forehead and tipping into his eyes which glow in the darkness. Droplets are frozen upon his glowing chest, paused in time as they weave between the divets of his muscles. Unfortunately, his phone covers most of his face, the bright flash replacing it.
Loud ringing fractures my compulsion and I see the bold white numbers ‘5:00am’ flashing upon the screen. My alarm .
I swipe it away and throw my phone, face down, onto the bed. I stare at the object like it’s poisonous, my mind flashing with multiple images as I rub my temples. Was I seriously just ogling Sai’s pictures?
Yes. Yes, I was.
Is there something seriously wrong with me?
Absolutely.
Taking a deep breath, I mentally chastise myself, instructing the sane part of my mind to delete the images, and the background screen saver, the moment I pick up the phone again. With a self-assured nod, I leave the phone and head towards the bathroom, deciding I need to have a cold shower this morning.
I try to stay focused upon the task of the day as I begin soaking my hair in a glacial stream.
Finding the mole.
If I could find them, the enforcers would do the rest. They would acquire any vital information, find the green cloaked terrorist group, lift the ‘blackout’ and I’d finally be able to return to the Entertainment District, to my family and back to my sane self.
I become lost in those thoughts, and memories, going into auto pilot as I begin absent-mindedly scrubbing my skin. I begin to wonder what my family would be doing right now as I prepared to head back into a building that previously terrified me.
Would they be sleeping? Would they be together? Would they be thinking about me?
The thoughts continue as I finish washing the conditioner from my hair and exit the shower, wrapping myself in a large, grey towel. I take a deep, calming breath before meeting my gaze in the mirror.
My eyes should be bloodshot, I should be pale and gaunt, my muscles should be aching from lack of sleep. A heavy knot of guilt forms in the pit of my stomach as I stare, angrily, at myself.
Slight frown lines hinder an otherwise glowing complexion, my eyes are bright, alight with a deep crimson intensity which angrily scales the rest of my body.
I feel fine. I feel more than fine. And that thought makes the knot churn into a thick, nauseating feeling.
Guilt is one hell of an emotion.
I grab the hair dryer from the black marble countertop, I hadn’t really noticed the hair tools before: a hair dryer, straightener and curler. Dark skin and memorising eyes flicker and I physically cringe at the idea of owing Julien even more money. I needed to start making a tab. I didn’t want to be indebted to him.
To any of them .
I quickly dry and add lose curls to my hair, grabbing Alexis’ gym bag and using the make-up she packed to add mascara, shade in my brows, concealer, lip tint and my heart aches when I see the small, golden palette filled with highlighter and blush. It was Alexis’ favourite. I quickly add shimmering gold to my cheekbones and snap it shut.
Blush definitely wasn’t needed.
When I’m fastening the final, tiny button of my blouse, does my phone begin to vibrate again. I ignore it, brushing my hands over the soft silk and flattening out the fabric against my breasts, admiring the rich burgundy against my skin as I roll the sleeves up to my elbows. I tuck the bottom of the blouse neatly into my black pencil skirt and, as I finish the look by applying a thin coat of a dark, nude lipstick, the phone goes off again.
This time, a heated crackle licks my skin with it and I gasp at the sensation. I glare at the flashing device.
Walking towards the bed, I grab it, quickly unlock the screen and see the small, white bubbles irritatingly pulsing in the bar at the top.
5:40am.
“I’m starting to take the silence personally.”
I roll my eyes, scrolling down to the next message.
5:43am.
“What do you think Zeek and Kane would do if I told him about us?”
My heart pounds and my fingers fly across the screen.
“I’ve been getting ready. I have to leave in 15 mins. I’m not ignoring you.”
The loud thumping continues as I clench the phone, staring at the screen and willing the small text to appear. A minute goes by and… nothing. Silence. As my thoughts begin to spiral, my power uncoils, wrapping around me in comfort as my anxiety spikes.
“Sai? ”
He wouldn’t, would he?
I consider phoning him just as the three dots begin to dance upon the screen. He’s typing.
5:46am.
“Not nice, is it, Red?"
My anger flares, coils thickening and tightening before softening again. That prick. Before I have chance to release my fury, the dots continue.
“Did you like the pictures?”
This message is accompanied by a small, smirking devil face. I slowly inhale, berating my mind for flashing several of those images in that very moment.
“I really need to finish getting ready, Sai.”
I leave the phone again and start rummaging through several shoe boxes at the bottom of the ornate dresser, the shoes in the perfect size for me.
Soon, I find a classic pair of small, black heels, I notice the designer symbol engraved into the blood red sole and pause. I’d seen these shoes before, on the feet of a vampire in one of the higher levels, Alexis told me they cost over a grand and I nearly spat out my water.
I consider changing them for another pair when another sharp crackle skitters over my spine. I slip the expensive shoes on, take a nice, deep inhale and then glance down at the new message.
“Send me one.”
I frown, studying the words for a few more seconds until more text appears. My face drains of any colour.
“Of you. I want a photo of you replicating one of mine. Your favourite one.”
He can’t be serious…
“No fucking way.” Is what I should have sent, my jaw gritting as I try to restrain myself .
“You can’t be serious.”
I swallow, grabbing a small bag Alexis’ packed for me and placing my lipstick into it as I wait for his response. From the burning sensation crawling up my spine, I already know it won’t be pleasant.
“Oh, I’m dead serious. I can be in that room in less than a minute, which is how long you have to send a photo. And if I have to come to you, Red, we won’t be leaving that room… even when Zeek comes to find you.”
The arrogant, entitled prick.
My irritation blooms, tinging my skin into a hot pink as I storm towards the bathroom clutching the phone so hard the plastic creaks.
I jam my shoulder against the door frame, face the mirror, and angle the phone to cover my face in the cloudy reflection. My eyes are burning brightly and, in the last second, I hold my middle finger up.
I click send before I can even think about it, barely meeting his timing stipulation.
I begin aggressively tidying up the clothes I decided against, folding them sloppily and slamming the cupboard door so hard I flinch at the sound. Grabbing the small clutch Alexis packed for me, I’m about to stuff the phone away when it flashes.
Closing my eyes, I breathe in and out, before opening the message.
“Fuck. You look so good, baby.”
And then another.
“I knew you liked mirrors.”
My body is instantly engulfed in heat. My hatred and annoyance suddenly twisting into desire and want. Memories of us together, of what we did together… of his hard body pressed into mine, his markings casting our bodies into a violet hue, our black gazes devouring one another as we watch his hand dip between my thighs in the large, heated reflection.
Fuck.
I have to lean against the wardrobe, placing a hand to the bare skin of my flustered chest. What is wrong with me?
I glance at the screen again, a new message awaiting.
“Send me another.”
Is he kidding? He has to be. There’s no way in hell…
“Please, Red. Seeing you in that tight skirt… fuck. I’m desperate for you.”
His pleading sends another flash of heat through me, the ache between my legs at the thought of him filled with a need only I could soothe emphasises my own. I went from following his orders to reading how ‘desperate’ he was and it made me feel incredible. Dangerous.
Powerful.
I tap the edge of the screen, contemplating what to do with this new power.
“If I do, what do I get?”
His response is almost instant and I can’t stop my smirk forming.
“You want to play?”
“Answer the question.”
“You know how fucking dirty this talk is for a dark fae?”
What am I doing? What the hell am I doing? But I can’t ignore the deep fluttering running through me as I type of my response.
“I’m just playing by the rules. If you’re not going to answer, I’m gonna head downstairs.”
“Don’t you dare, Red. And my answer depends on what you send.”
I tap the edge of my phone with my fingers again, contemplating what I’m doing, how I could use this to my advantage somehow, trying to convince myself that this is completely a tactical play to gain something from Sai whilst desperately trying to ignore the electric flutter running through me.
“What exactly are the terms?”
“I just need more. More of you.”
My skin is on fire. Somehow, I can hear the desperate sounds falling from Sai and I can only imagine where his hand might be, that thought has disastrous consequences as the deep ache between my thighs only encourages me to give him exactly what he wants.
I unbutton my blouse, revealing the swell and curve of my breasts, the black fabric of my lacy bra just barely peeks out. Next, I roll up the skirt, a challenge considering it’s tailored to fit my curves, but I manage. I push my hair behind me in attempt to hide some defining features and I place a finger against my lips, the only part of my face which is visible, and capture the image.
I glance over it, ensuring there’s nothing that could pinpoint this picture back to me, the background is cast into darkness due to the flash and eliminates any evidence.
Send.
My breath catches.
Did I just do that?
I quickly re-button and readjust my skirt, chucking my phone into the bag and shutting the bedroom door behind me. When I reach the stairs, I feel the vibration, crackles run under my skin, but I force myself to ignore it, deciding whatever is there would have to wait until after I made it down the stairs.
Without seeing, I already know there’s no one here, but I still search the room as I descend. Specifically, I focus upon any shadows in the room, waiting for them to morph and grow into something, or someone, else.
But they don’t.
The room is still.
Again, there’s a tray of pastries upon the table and a pot of steaming coffee. I force myself to take one of both and, even as the vibration repeats, I take a bite of pastry and a sip of coffee, then I open my bag.
“Fuck.”
“You win. Tell me what you want.”
I laugh taking another bite before scrolling down.
“You’re going to drive Zeek crazy, he has a thing for skirts. Fuck, I’m hard just thinking about his reaction.”
The bite of pastry becomes lodged in my suddenly dry throat. I take another sip of coffee as I consider how on earth I reply to that. I suddenly feel very aware of the way these clothes cling to my skin, emphasising every inch of me.
I’d spent the last five years scantily clad, feeling empowered by my skin, my womanly form which suggested ‘sweet’ and ‘soft’ when deep down, it was the very opposite.
Surrounded by beautiful women of all bodies had taught me what real beauty was, and I’d never once felt ashamed. How could I be shameful of a body which served me, kept me alive, maintained the darkness within behind an appealing mask?
But now, with Sai’s words burning my mind, I felt too aware of my body. Self-conscious of the way I looked but more so, the way others would see me.
“Do you think I should change?”
I pick at the flakes of pastry upon the table, watching them crumble beneath my fingertips, but I don’t have to wait long for a response.
“Fuck no!”
Taking another sip, I consider the other options in my makeshift wardrobe, but the hot liquid doesn’t help ease the burning flush along my skin which only accentuates when a new message flashes before me.
“Red, it really doesn’t matter what you wear.”
My fingers are poised, ready to tap out some witty response, when soft metallic twists embed the air.
A soothing sensation rushes over my otherwise warm skin and my eyes dart towards the kitchen, where Ezekial enters, phone against his ear.