Page 20 of A Sacrifice in the Smoke

“Yeah, but—”

“You’re not working in the sewer sector now, are you?”

The blood drains from my face as realization crashes into me. “He tricked me.”

“Sounds like it,” Dorian says with a nod. He scratches his beard, as though he doesn’t know what to think about me, either.

I swallow past the lump in my throat—I willnotcry in front of this stranger. “What day is it? When is the next auction?”

“It’s Saturday. Auction is tomorrow.”

“By the blood,” I breathe, shivering as nausea rolls through me. “Wait, where are they starting the bidding?”

Maybe I can make another deal with the Vampire King. Exchange my loyalty for whatever price he’d have to pay to purchase me back. The idea makes me want to scream, but I don’t see any other options. No viable ones, anyway.

Dorian remains silent as I think, and when I raise my gaze, I catch him staring at me. “I’m sorry,” he says abruptly.

“Are you?” I shoot back, grabbing the bottle of blood and unscrewing the cap. I drink deeply, the monster inside mewling happily at being fed. “It doesn’t matter where I end up, Dorian—I’m a Lavender. The only people who are even going to considerbuyingme are those who want a slave. I’m leaving one life of service for another. Not exactly an upgrade.”

“Well, I hope you know this isn’t personal, by any means. I’m just following orders.”

“You could help me,” I say desperately. “I wouldn’t tell anyone. I’ll make a break for it and—”

“I said I was sorry, Charlotte, not stupid.” Dorian shakes his head. “I’m can’t help you escape.”

“Can’t or won’t?” I clench my jaw, my back straightening against the cement wall. “Get the hell out.”

I look away as the shapeshifter sighs and bangs his fist against the door twice. It slides open again, and then he’s gone, leaving me alone.

Now what?

A sigh leaves me. I know sleep will be impossible, and the sight of the salad Dorian brought only makes my stomach churn. Then my gaze falls on the bottle of blood, still half-full, resting in the sheets beside my thigh.

The monster reaches for it, and for some reason, I let her. We unscrew the cap, tip the bottle back, and drain it of every last drop.

* * *

Sunday night arrives, along with three armor-clad guards and the worst anxiety I’ve ever felt.

Despite this, I still manage to notice that Dorian isn’t with them.Coward.

As they replace the zip ties he cut away, I want to fight. I want to let the monster loose again and rip these reptilian assholes to shreds. Instead, I put my head down so they don’t see the terror in my lavender eyes as they guide me out of the room, down a windowless hall, and through another door that opens into an alley. The sun is setting in a blend of orange and red, which means it’s almost time for the auction.

I almost vomit then and there.

The guards lift me into the van, and I instantly notice the other captives already seated and waiting—a round-cheeked child that trembles with confusion and dread, a man with startling blue eyes, a teenage boy with a defiant glare, and two women who look like they could be sisters.

After I’m settled, some of the guards sit in the back, while the others take front seats. No one speaks as the van starts moving. We sit in silence for exactly eleven minutes, which I know because I watch the clock on the dashboard, feeling as though I’m watching the remainder of my life tick away. Then one of the other captives makes a sound, and my gaze flies to the tinted window on our right.

We’re at the square where the auction is always held. It bustles with energy, lit by the moon and several streetlights. Along the edges, there are stalls and tents, where creatures and humans alike hawk their handmade wares. Everywhere else, filling up the space like blood in a tick, people wander or wait.Plenty of potential buyers.The thought churns my stomach, and I clench my jaw hard as bile rises in my throat.

Once the van stops, the guards get out, hauling us with them. Within a minute, I’m locked in a cage that’s barely big enough to crouch in and pulled on a cart toward the auction platform. There are more cages ahead and behind me, each one carrying a captive. Sickened at the sight, I put my head down and glare at my lap as the cart comes to a stop. As people get a look at me, their conversations fill my ears. I hear someone say my name.

Just then, another cage comes to a stop beside me. A water nymph huddles inside it, humming an unfamiliar, haunting melody. She looks even more terrified than I am.

Before I can say something to her, light pours over the crowd, and I glance up instinctively. There’s a gigantic screen overhead with my photo on it. It’s a three-dimensional rendering of my entire body, with facts displayed beside it in small letters. Age, height, weight, species.

And at the very bottom, my worth shines in neon green—just a little under two thousand dollars.

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