Page 65 of The Revenge

“I need to use the bathroom, but I’ll be back,” I tell Royal.

He nods, and I leave him on the edge of the dancefloor, heading towards the bathrooms near the entrance to the room. There are a couple of women talking to each other as I enter the bathroom, and I give them a polite smile as they look over atme with obvious curiosity. They look vaguely familiar, enough that I’ve probably seen them on the news before, but I disappear straight into a vacant stall before they can talk to me.

By the time I’ve finished and go to wash my hands, I’m alone in the bathroom. I quickly wash and dry my hands, then step back to examine my appearance. When the hair stylist reapplied the blue to my hair, he mentioned that it’s going to be difficult to remove the color and return to my natural blonde.

While I’m considering whether I should let it fade out or try being a brunette for a while, I realize that the woman who’s just entered the bathroom has walked up beside me. She’s one of the servers. Assuming she needs to tidy the sinks, I give my appearance one last check and then turn.

Before I can sidestep out of her way, she steps forward and blocks me. “I’m here to take you to Mr. du Pont.”

I thought we had more time before he was due to arrive, but I’m thankful that I don’t need to wait around any longer. I follow the woman out of the bathroom, but when I start to head back to the main hall, she shakes her head.

“What about the others?” I ask.

“I was told to bring you straight there before Mr. du Pont leaves. We need to go this way.” She gestures back towards the main entrance.

Royal did say they’d paid someone to notify them when Preston arrived. I didn’t know the layout of the museum well enough, but with Syn being caught up by his father, Royal must have sent this woman and then gone straight to where we need to meet.

Not wanting to miss anything Preston has to say, I follow the server down a corridor and then through another door to an empty exhibit that’s lit only by the emergency lighting.

We walk through room after room. As I start to grow concerned with where she’s leading me, I spot a sign for the World’s Beyond Earth experience, and I can’t help but roll my eyes.

Of course, Gemini was behind choosing this location.

No doubt he’ll be suggesting post-adventure sex afterwards…

However, the uneasy feeling starts to return as we go through a door marked ‘Private.’ “Where are we going?”

The woman barely glances over her shoulder. “We’re nearly there.” She pushes open the door at the end of the corridor, and I follow her inside.

A cold draft whips around me, and I rub at my bare arms. The room is only lit with emergency lighting, and I can barely make out stacks of crates and boxes. “Are you sure this is where we’re supposed to be?”

As I ask the question, the woman disappears behind an enormous crate.

Something doesn’t feel right.

I know Royal said we needed somewhere private to talk, but I didn’t get the impression he meant whatever this storage area is.

Just as I’m contemplating if I should go back, the woman steps back out and beckons me over. “It’s this way.”

“Are you sure we’re supposed to be in here?” I ask again as I hurry over to her.

“I’m just bringing you where I was told,” she tells me. She points to a door. “Through there.”

When she doesn’t move, I walk over to the door and push it open. Instantly, I’m hit with a strong gust of icy wind, but before I can take a step back, I’m shoved so hard that I go flying.

As the door slams closed behind me, my body hits metal railings, and I’m barely able to grab onto them to stop myself from hurtling over the edge.

“What the hell?” Ignoring the pain in my wrist, I whirl around and try to open the door, but it doesn’t give. “Hey!” I hammer on the door. “Let me in!”

I’m going to kill Syn.

Rage bubbles through me.

Was this the point of bringing me here? Why go to all this trouble?

This is the American Museum of Natural History. I might not be able to get back in through this door, but I can easily walk around the block, back to the main entrance. I turn to walk down the few steps.

“Hello, Victoria. Or should I call you Tori Reynolds?”

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