Chapter 29
Ava
It finally came through—the message with the location of the auction. Only twelve hours before the event and not two days like we had been told.
It was in Rome.
Owen paced the room as he did the math. “We have to leave right now. Or we won’t make it in time. Marshall, get your men and gear. Syntax, make sure the jet is already on the tarmac when we reach the airport. Everyone else, grab a go-bag. We leave in five minutes!”
Owen was cursing as we ran towards the cars. “By the time we reach them, the auction will be on for an hour already.”
“We’ll make it.”
Owen and I jumped into the backseat, with Emerie behind the wheel and Syntax next to her. We impatiently waited for the decoy cars to speed off, seeing two vehicles slowly pull out of their parking, going after them.
As soon as the Apparitions’ spies were out of sight, we pulled out. Three more cars followed us with Marshall and his men. No spies in the rearview.
Emerie threw her hands in the air as we came around a corner, right into a traffic jam. “What the actual fuck is this?” she bellowed in frustration.
“Damn! I forgot! It’s the Gala tonight,” Syntax frowned, fidgeting in her seat.
“What Gala?” I wondered.
“A fundraiser for the museum. It’s the first one of its kind. But they plan to do it every year. It’s a big thing. Everyone who is everyone is here,” Syntax offered.
“And they’re blocking our way to the airport!” Emerie yelled again, blaring the sirens for people to move, but they stood still, nowhere to go.
Owen rolled his window down and beckoned one of the traffic controllers closer. He had a bundle of Snapdragon flowers in his arm, handing them out to the women waiting in the cars ahead of us. “We need to get through; can you make that happen?” Owen boomed at him as he reached us.
The traffic controller looked a little panicked, shifting his weight from side to side. “I’m sorry, sir, it’s backed up for blocks. There’s nothing we can do. Where are you headed?”
“The airport. And we’re in a real fucking hurry here.” Owen’s knee was bouncing incessantly. “They’re not getting away because of traffic,” he added under his breath.
The man looked even more flustered. “All the roads to the airport are backed up. There’s nothing…
” He trailed off, a frown creasing his brow.
“Wait…” He turned from us and spoke into his two-way radio.
He waited a brief moment before multiple voices answered.
He turned back to us, smiling broadly. “Give us two minutes and we’ll have the sidewalk cleared for you. ”
“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Owen praised, his shoulders relaxing a tiny bit.
The traffic controller puffed his chest out, looking exceptionally pleased with himself. “How about a flower for the special ladies while we wait?” He winked at Syntax as he held out a Snapdragon to her.
Emerie grabbed it from his hand and threw it in the backseat between me and Owen. “Are you serious right now? Just get us through!” she snapped.
I felt a tinge sorry for the guy, but no one was in the mood for flirting. He half-heartedly handed me a flower too before he turned and stomped away.
We watched the traffic controllers usher the onlookers off the sidewalk, Emerie blaring her sirens when a group of teenagers protested. They cleared away some dustbins and store signs and finally, the cars lurched forward.
“We’ll be another fifteen minutes late, Owen mumbled grumpily as he watched the flashing lights out his window as we drove by the Gala’s runway.
The flight to Rome was eleven hours long. We used the time to plan our takedown and gear up. The auction was held in the basement of an old gothic church. Somehow it seemed both ironic and fitting, since the event was hosted by the devil.
The plan was simple, but rock solid. Since there were only two entrances to the basement, we storm in from both sides and trap them.
We weren’t taking any chances. Each agent was equipped with gas masks and dart guns with my instant tranquiliser darts. If anyone tried to fight or create chaos, they would be out cold within two seconds as the poison made contact with their nervous system.
It wasn’t standard procedure, but since the Apparitions were such a high flight risk, we had the go-ahead to use any means possible to bring them in. And a sleeping Grayson couldn’t slip out of cuffs again.
The plane started to descend and Owen stood.
“Stick to the plan. But Varon is our number one target. So if you have to; fuck the plan. Whatever you do, make sure he doesn’t get away.
And if you have him, don’t let him get in your head.
You’ve seen the footage of how he baited us to get handcuff keys.
Don’t let him touch you. And don’t take your eyes off him for one second.
And get that dart in his ass as fast as possible. ”
Everyone nodded, the anticipation swirling in the air around us.
“They don’t come into our building and make fools of us. So let’s get these sons of bitches!”
The agents started stomping their feet—darkly rhythmic, like war drums.
This was it. The moment we had been preparing for, for months. To obliterate the Apparitions once and for all. To make them taste the hellfire they had been creating all this time. We were ready.
When the plane landed, we got into the vans provided by Interpol.
Claudia and her people were standing by as back-up, in case we needed them.
As soon as we enter the church, they will descend—closing the streets off and guarding every exit—a second barrier in case the Apparitions make it through ours.
When we pulled up to the church, it was already midnight. The streets were quiet, only a few non-descript cars parked under the dim streetlights, a dog barking in the distance.
Was this the right place? The towering church was completely dark, the gargoyles on its steeples sneering down at us.
“This feels weird,” I whispered to Owen, who was tugging at my bulletproof vest, making sure it was secured.
He handed me a gun. “Stay behind me at all times, okay?”
I nodded, not able to take my eyes off the eerie church.
“I mean it, Ava. No shenanigans.”
“Okay,” I reassured him, hoping it would take the worried look from his face. “No shenanigans. I stay with you.”
He sighed out a breath and steeled himself. He pressed the button on his comms wire and nodded at the people in the van with us. “Let’s go!” came his voice in my ear and agents burst from the vans.
We moved stealthily through the empty church, into the back rooms, and stopped at the door that led into the basement.
“In position,” Owen whispered over the comms. I held my breath as we waited for Marshall’s reply. His team was breaching the basement from the outside door in the backyard of the church.
Owen had a deep furrow between his brows. “Nobody. No lookout, nothing,” he muttered to himself, his leg bouncing up and down.
There was classical music coming from the basement door.
Adrenaline was coursing wildly through me. Yes. Something was off. But there was no time to dwell on it.
“In position,” Marshall answered.
Owen nodded at the agents behind us and they nodded back. “Move in!” He kicked the door open and we bounded down the musty basement stairs, shining our flashlights ahead as we descended into the darkness, the music getting louder.
When we reached the bottom, the narrow stairway opened into a large cavern. An overwhelming smell of mold cloyed my noise as we spread out into the dark room.
Across the room, flashlights came bursting through the door. Marshall.
I felt no other presences in the dark room.
Owen gripped my arm painfully, pulling me half behind him.
What the hell is going on?
A loud clicking sound startled us, and lights flooded the room, blinding us.
I shielded my eyes and blinked the pain away, forcing them to focus, while my heart hammered in my throat.
“The fuck?” An agent breathed next to me.
The old stone room was empty, except for chairs packed neatly in rows, right in the middle of the cavern.
Had we missed it? Were we at the wrong church?
The agents started moving around the room, making sure it was clear.
“Claudia, it’s empty. Did you see anyone leave?”
“No. All is quiet up here,” came her reply.
“Becket,” Marshall called where he and Emerie were standing before the chairs. “Come see this.”
I swallowed hard, adrenaline still tingling in my fingers. What the hell was Grayson up to?
When we reached the chairs, Owen balled his fists against his eyes, his chest heaving with rage. He kicked out at one of the empty chairs and it skittered loudly across the floor. “Motherfucker!” he screamed, walking away.
My stomach dropped as I saw it.
On the front row seats were reserved plaques, each with our names on them. One for Emerie, Marshall, Syntax, Owen and me.
On each of the seats were navy boxes with beautifully wrapped golden bows. On top of the boxes laid bouquets of Snapdragons.
I counted the rest of the chairs. Exactly the number of agents with us.
We had been set up.
Syntax stopped beside me. “Isn’t that the flowers fr—”
“From the fucking Gala, yes,” Owen blurted, looking like he was about to snap someone’s neck. “The auction was at the fucking Gala!”
And we had driven right past it.
I sank into one of the chairs in the second row, my legs unable to hold me anymore. “Snapdragons are flowers of deceit,” I murmured, my limbs feeling unbearably heavy.
How had I missed it? It was such a clear fucking taunt, and I had missed it.
“Get us some gloves,” Emerie ordered one of the agents. She eyed the presents. “No. Make it a bomb squad.”
We stood outside in devastating silence as Claudia’s bomb squad cleared the presents and the room.
When we stood in front of the presents again, we still couldn’t find our voices.