4. Ember
CHAPTER FOUR
EMBER
THREE MONTHS LATER
T he swish of red satin distracts me from the task at hand for a moment, and I drag my gaze up to the mirror in front of me.
The floor-length gown accentuates my waist and my cleavage, with a halter neck design that leaves my back completely bare.
The slit up one leg climbs dangerously high, but it’ll do exactly as I need it to.
Distract.
This is the first step in my plan for revenge, but also the first time I’ll see the man that tore everything from me, and I need every advantage I can get.
My hatred for Orion has grown every day. Every time I think about the way he touched me, how he lied through his teeth, how he promised me the world only to shatter me, the vehement loathing I feel toward him only grows.
I trail my gaze over my face and carefully fix my lipstick.
For the first time in my life, luck has been on my side since the day I almost died.
The outfit in my size in the hospital.
The pills.
The bus to Las Vegas that left a minute after I arrived at the bus depot that night.
Finding work to tie me over.
Remaining out of Orion’s reach, despite knowing he’s looking for me.
But none more than this.
Scoring an invitation to the most elite underground auction in the country.
Illegal artifacts that are long thought lost, stolen art, and things I would rather not think about are sold to the highest bidder once a year in downtown Los Angeles.
Despite years of trying, the cops haven’t even been able to figure out where it’s held.
It doesn’t help that they rotate locations every few years and almost certainly have ties within the police department that warn them if anyone is getting too close.
But even better than scoring the invitation is the dress code.
Black tie with a side of secret identities.
I obsessed for too long about what mask I would wear, how it would look with my outfit, how I would present myself, but this is perfect.
Instead of wearing a mask, I chose face paint. I know what you’re thinking. Kind of childish? Maybe even reminiscent of a clown? But no. The deep pink and white paint transforms me into another version of myself.
Orion has the Hunter, and I have the Thief.
I smirk at the title I gave myself. No mistaking what I do for a living, but now I get to do it for myself instead of Lucas. I make my own rules, and I’m making quite the name for myself.
When you have nothing to live for, there’s no risk you’re not willing to take.
In the last two months, I’ve stolen jewels from safes, documents from a prince on a business trip, and a car just to prove to someone I could.
I’m reckless in a way I’ve never been before, but I don’t care.
All I care about is killing Orion. Once that’s done, I’ll figure out if there’s anything left for me on this earth.
But until then, I’m going to have some fun with it.
I’ll admit, being back in LA is bringing up some things I’d rather continue avoiding, but at least I’m not prone to panic attacks every time I get into a car anymore.
My latest near-death experience seems to have been the cure for the emotional wreckage that the first one left.
I’m not sure if my therapist would be happy or concerned by that fact, but either way, it’s worked out for me.
I drag my bloodred lip between my teeth and force a calming breath into my lungs.
I’m not here for Orion. Not this time, at least. But that doesn’t mean he won’t be there tonight.
If the rumors are true, he’s attended every other year, and it will certainly be a perk if he does show his face.
But I have another job that brings me to town.
My job is simple. Bid on items and drive up the price so my client can swoop in and get what he wants without issue. And if that fails, I’ll steal them for him.
I’ll admit this is a little outside my usual expertise, but the last few months have taught me to pivot in a way the first twenty-two years of my life never did.
My phone buzzes in my purse, letting me know it’s time to get a move on, and I do one final sweep of the hotel room before stepping toward the door.
I never would have dreamed of staying in a five-star hotel before, but my client was feeling extra generous, and who am I to refuse?
I slip from the back of the town car in front of the nondescript warehouse. There’s no one around, and if I wasn’t certain this is the location of tonight’s auction, I would think I’m in the wrong place.
The driver gives me a quick nod before slipping back behind the wheel, and I step toward the side door.
Nervous anticipation swirls in my belly, but the part of me that has learned to live for the thrill is excited. This kind of job can go sideways at any time, and I kind of hope it does.
I knock on the steel door and take a step back, looking up into the camera they probably think people don’t notice.
It’s only a beat before the door swings open, and a scary-looking security guard steps out, his wide shoulders covered in an all-black suit and his frame taking up the entire doorway.
“Password?” he grunts.
“All the king’s castles,” I reply without hesitation.
His eyes drag up my skintight dress, and I don’t miss the flash of interest he shows me before shaking himself off. It turns out men get a kick out of confidence, something I was aware of to an extent before, but now I use it to my advantage on the daily.
“Walk straight until you reach the elevator. Someone will meet you there to send you down.”
I nod, keeping my face neutral as I step past him into the cool warehouse. My client never said anything about it being underground, but I didn’t really ask either.
The space is quiet aside from my heels clicking along the concrete floor. There’s a reason the cops can’t find this place, and I’m certain it’s not because they haven’t tried.
Another guard, dressed in all black but slightly less intimidating, meets me at the elevator with a curt nod, and I stop in front of the doors.
He pulls a handheld metal detector from behind him, and my stomach rolls at the sight.
These things are a little hit and miss, but I’m hoping it won’t pick up the pepper spray I packed as a precaution.
If I thought I could have gotten away with it, I would have packed my taser as well, but alas, that would have been frowned upon at best.
The guard moves the wand over me, never hovering for too long in any one place before giving me a curt nod.
The doors to the elevator slide open, and I step forward without hesitation. The longer I linger, the more out of place I look.
Once the doors shut, I take a moment to breathe, but keep the mask I show the world in place. I may not be able to see them, but I’m sure as hell there’re cameras in here.
The elevator car is old and rickety, the sound of screeching metal filling the space as I descend into the unknown.
I wish I could say the fear that thrums just beneath the surface is because I’m walking into a situation I have no control over—God knows how far beneath the ground—with probably just the one exit. But that would be a lie.
It’s the fear of my own emotions that makes it hard to breathe.
I hate the Hunter. Despise his existence. Want him dead more than I want my heart to continue beating.
But I love Orion. And that’s the problem.
As cold as I’ve become, the thought of the man who dragged me from rock bottom still warms me from the inside out, even if I should loathe him for his deception. For what he took from me. For his part in the way my world crumbled around me.
The car stops at the bottom with a jolt that would have at least made me stumble in my heels if I weren’t holding onto the railing behind me.
As the doors slide open, I take a deep breath and steel myself.
I can do this.
I can complete my job.
I can face the Hunter.
And when the time comes, I can kill him and finally set myself free.