Page 24 of Claimed
Onyx
My entire body shakes as I wait for the auction to just be over. But I am no longer sure if the emotion battering me is rage or desolation.
I hesitated.
Azz could more than pay any astronomical fee the man could have said, and all I had to do was keep raising the bid. Keep pressing the amount higher until the man gave up.
But Azz did not give me a cap and the auctioneers would have to verify any last bid I made. The man had cash.
Who the hell walked around with a million dollars in cash?
I slump in my seat, my fingers mottled on my clutch. The drone of the auctioneer continues to fill my ears, but I no longer hear a single word being said.
There is only one option left. I have to take the cases from the man once we are away from here.
Outside of the wards.
I glance over at the male and find another ebony head turned toward him.
The demon.
His blonde guard says something, but he is too far away to make out what is being said.
It is no surprise the demon was after a drug that could amp up his powers. No doubt it’s the same reason Azz wants it.
All demons are the same.
I lift my eyes to the yellow-eyed man.
His suit screams money too, but the style of his hair is old fashioned. Left long and loose around him in a sheet of midnight locks. His stance is arrogant, cold.
Aristocratic.
A vamp, maybe? An old one?
I track a brief glance over his guards. They both scream otherworldly muscle and malice.
Hired hands.
I am sure he will have more waiting. Not that it means much. Not for me.
Settling back in my chair, I let my hold on my clutch loosen.
I have never had a target I could not acquire. And the cases will be no different.
The auction ends several hours later. By the time it does, I have the man memorized down to the cut of his suit and the size of shoe he wears.
As the warding dispels, I rise to my feet and make my way to the doors to wait.
Many of the others trail out past me as I stand in the shadows. I don’t have to wait long.
Two now familiar frames exit before the man. In his arms he holds all three cases, and as I watch, a dark SUV pulls up to wait. The guards clear the area as two unfamiliar men slip from the interior. In their hands, they carry long rifles as their eyes track over everyone closest.
I slip along the trees to my car and climb inside.
Pulling out as fast as I dare, I drive up the secluded road and whip the ostentatious sports car into the narrow ditch and climb out. Popping the hood, I wait.
It doesn’t take long.
