Page 50 of Chain Me
I sensed Dublin right on my heels, silent, my other hand still in his.
“Not to be blunt, but I was under the impression that Dublin had ceded all interest in you,” Raphael added. “He claimed to have cut off all communication. Leveraged his contacts so that poor Saskia had no choice but to move from our previous location. The last I’d heard, our dear friend had left this marvelous country entirely. I must confess I understood his aversion. Your bloodline has always been mired in needless superstition.” He sighed. “So, imagine my surprise that the first time he deigned to contact me in weeks happened to concernyou.”
I glanced at the man in question, but he wasn’t even looking in my direction. His eyes were fixated on the center of the room, his jaw slack with disinterest—even as he kept time with my every step.
“In fact…” Raphael paused before a leather chaise and lowered himself onto it, gesturing for me to follow. When I did, he took my hand again, stroking the palm of it with his thumb. “For Dublin to call me here, this hour of the night, I would have thought you were in danger.” His empty eyes cut to my face, scanning it with reptilian curiosity. Without revealing whether he discovered anything of interest, he shifted his attention to Dublin. “Did I assume wrong?”
“No,” Dublin replied. He remained standing paces away, angled slightly toward the center of the room. “It was…a misunderstanding. Nothing more.”
“Ah.” Raphael nodded and patted the back of my hand. The seemingly playful gesture contrasted with his chilling, frozen smile. “Nothing.How wonderful. Then, Eleanor, my dear, you must have entered here of your own free will, under no claim to speak of.”
Claim.Dublin stiffened at the word. By the time I’d blinked, he had returned to my side. Startled, I took the hand he was offering, allowing him to pull me to my feet. Raphael released me, but each pad of his fingers glided over my flesh like a serpent in retreat.
“She was just leaving,” Dublin said, maneuvering me to stand behind him.
“Leaving?” Raphael uttered a sound too cutting to be a laugh. “Oh, no. The entertainment has just arrived. Do stay. Both of you.”
Dublin stiffened. “I—”
“I insist,” Raphael added, flicking his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Why, look! The show is just beginning.”
As if his acknowledgment were the cue, a woman entered, pale and slender. Dressed in a sheer, white slip that barely reached her knees, she was a stark contrast from how I remembered the women on auction dressing. Not overtly sexual, to put it bluntly. Though her purpose was painfully reinforced by the sheer fabric of her dress—pale skin and flushes of pink peeked, fully visible beneath. Her large, green eyes stared out blankly, framed by curly, dark hair. The style chafed my nerves, uncomfortably familiar.Toofamiliar.
“A lovely creature,” Raphael remarked, his lips quirked in another mirthless smile. “Don’t you agree, Dublin?”
Without warning, Dublin released my hand. Suddenly, the space between us widened as he stepped aside, and my heart surged. A few feet yawned like an ocean to separate us. I tried to meet his gaze—anything but reach out directly.
He ignored me.
“Ah, yes,” Raphael continued as though he’d received a response. “The last auction you participated in was such a success that I’ve had Saskia replicate your ethereal aesthetic. I hope you don’t mind.” Only when his eyes flickered in my direction did I realize he was speaking to me.
My stomach churned as I faced the girl again. One word could summarize her “aesthetic.”Me.Everything from her chin-length curls to her slender frame resembled mine. Specifically, how Yulia had dressed me the night Dublin had bartered for my contract.
“I am curious what you think, Dublin,” Raphael wondered. “I must say, this style has been a boon for the club. So many seem so curious as to the appeal. What with your discerning tastes, anything you desire must be remarkable.”
Murmurs of agreement rose up from those seated nearby.
“You see?” Raphael gestured with a wave of his hand. “I believe the consensus is unanimous. Shall we begin? Saskia, my dear.”
“Yes, my lord.” Grinning, Saskia stepped forward, advancing on the girl. Once close enough, she brushed her hand along the girl’s cheek, tilting it to reveal the side of her throat.
I was reminded of an auctioneer displaying a piece of jewelry for a buyer’s discretion.
Circling around to stand behind the woman, Saskia ran her fingers along the flimsy neckline of her shift next. As if waiting until just the right moment, she tugged, allowing the sleeves to fall down the girl’s shoulders.
My cheeks heated as I looked away. But Dublin didn’t. He stared along with the rest of the room, his eyes conveying nothing. A dangerous thought crept into my brain, impossible to silence—was he inspecting her as well?
“Exquisite,” Raphael murmured in a way that made my throat tighten. “But I sense that Dublin doesn’t approve? Too short?” he wondered. “Or too thin? No matter. I do believe Saskia has cultivated an entire selection to match thesespecifictastes.” He clapped his hands together and four more women drifted into the room, each one more waiflike than the last.
Only slight variations in their height and their size set them apart. Overall, they all were thin with large eyes, short dark curls, and delicate white dresses. It was like looking at a distorted mirror, reflecting variations of me from a million different angles.
All of them slightly prettier.
Slightly thinner.
Slightlymore appealing.
“Pick one,” Raphael suggested, still speaking to Dublin. “Any one you’d like. Her contract is yours. My gift to you. My only request is that, in return, whatever time you spend with your new acquaintance is time that I would get to spend with dear Eleanor. Alone.”
