Say the Word(116)

Or, maybe not.

Because, when Sebastian opened that door, when we saw what lay in the empty space beyond, when I felt the air disappear from my lungs and the saliva evaporate from my tongue as my mouth went dry with dread… there was little room left for doubt.

I wasn’t crazy — but that was little validation when the truth was so repugnant.

Horrifyingly, cruelly, abominably… I’d been right all along.





Chapter Thirty-One





Now


Chains hold better than rope, I suppose. They were a good choice — sturdy, of course, but also perfectly suited to the archaic nature of Labyrinth on the whole.

Why they needed to restrain the girls when they had plenty of sedation drugs at their disposal, I had no idea. Perhaps drugged girls were less attractive than those who could stand on their own two feet. Perhaps there was something thrilling to the men watching from their dark little booths about a small, defenseless girl, bound in heavy, inescapable chains.

I didn’t know. I didn’t want to ever know.

But as I stood on the threshold of the empty room, I was certain that the small round platform at the center of the space, with its set of carefully coiled ankle chains, served only one purpose: to display property on sale.

This wasn’t a brothel as, in the dark corners of my mind, I’d allowed myself to prepare for during the past few weeks. It wasn’t a safe haven for sexual predators, or den of depravity, where the wealthy could come to indulge in erotic favors from underage immigrant girls at no personal risk to their careers or reputations.

No. This was something far more odious.

It was an auction block.

The private, dark booths lining the walls were the biggest indication. There were ten booths, arranged in a circle around the platform. To offer a semblance of privacy, each booth was cordoned off on either side with curtains and enclosed behind a wall of tinted glass, facing the small platform at the center of the room. A closer look inside the booth nearest to us revealed an electronic panel with buttons used for placing anonymous bets.

Those partaking in the auction could participate without ever revealing their identities.

I heard Bash swear under his breath as he slipped one hand into his jacket pocket and removed a tiny point-and-shoot camera. As he snapped photo after photo, I realized in a detached way that I was in shock, but couldn’t quite muster the energy to do anything about it.

I saw it play out in my mind in startling clarity — the whole organization, clicking into place like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle snapping together.

They scouted girls — young, pretty, poor, and preferably undocumented — on the streets of the city. Watched for opportunities to snatch them away from their families and took them somewhere they could be contained for a while: the brewery in Red Hook, most likely. There, the girls were given GHB, sedated past the point of ever putting up a fight or escaping, and held, like livestock in a pen awaiting their slaughter. Thugs like Smash Nose and the Neanderthal watched them for a time — days, weeks, maybe even months — until the rich men arrived at Labyrinth to examine the newly stocked wares and compete for their pretty new possessions. Just as Officer Monroe had witnessed in the back alley all those years ago, the girls were transported here, to this very room, and put on display.

And for a price — likely an extremely steep one — they could be purchased.

I pictured Vera on that stage, ten pairs of lewd eyes glued to her chained body as money changed hands, and had to turn away.

The room began to shake, as though an earthquake was rumbling the entire city and disturbing the building’s foundations. I pressed a hand to my stomach, hoping I wouldn’t wretch on the lushly carpeted floor. Belatedly, I realized the trembling wasn’t the room — it was me. I’d begun to shudder violently, and no amount of deep breathing would soothe me this time.

It was too much. All of it.

“Come on, I have enough.” Bash grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me lightly. “Lux, we have to go. Pull it together.”

I knew I was spiraling quickly into panic, and would soon be of no use to anyone. Looking up into Sebastian’s eyes, I tried to ground myself. The steadiness in their depths lent me strength enough to snap myself out of it.

“I’m fine.” I swallowed roughly. “Let’s go.”

He laced his fingers through mine and pulled me back toward the kitchen door. We flew down the pitch-black stairwell as fast my heeled feet would allow, emerging into the downstairs prep room breathless and fraught with tension. When Bash opened the door to the sitting room, we rushed inside so quickly we nearly plowed straight into the small man standing a few feet away, seemingly waiting for us.

“Charles,” Bash said, coming to an abrupt halt and squeezing my hand a little tighter.

“Sir.” Charles did not look happy. In fact, he looked downright peeved that we’d been caught outside his carefully laid boundaries. “Were you looking for something particular in the kitchen area?” he asked in a smoothly cultured voice that totally contradicted the vexed glare his eyes were shooting at us.

“No, the door was left open and we wandered inside by mistake.” Bash forced a grin. “Sweet knife set — are those custom-made Shun blades?”

Charles glare intensified. “I believe so, sir.”

“Excellent.” Sebastian sidestepped and pulled me along with him, angling us closer to the exit. “Well, we’ve had about as much exploring as we can take for one night. You’ve been a great help, Charles.”