Page 32 of Shattered Souls
Welcome to the Royal Ball, is written on a banner across the top,where you have the opportunity to find your perfect little princess.
“Jesus, this is sick,” Logan unnecessarily comments.
Beneath are profiles for each of theprincesses. I scroll to theArielone. The pictures are all as grainy and out of focus as the initial one Blue found. However, the unhelpful photo includes details such as the girl’s height, weight, eye and hair color, plus any unique features.
Riley’s sharp inhale has us all straightening. “Aurora has a birthmark on her lower back,” she exclaims with restrained hope, reading the unique feature mentioned forAriel.
“Eye and hair color match,” I point out.
“And the height and weight are about right. I hadn’t checked her height since I started at Halston, but she’s shot up several inches since last summer,” Riley supplies. I notice her squeeze Logan’s arm from the corner of my eye. “Oh my god, it really could be her.”
“When is the event?” Grayson asks, his impatience audible.
Scrolling to the bottom of the page, I find the details we’re looking for—date and time along with an image of a map with a circle indicating the general area of the event and a note that an entry pass and coordinates will be sent fifteen minutes before the start time.
Reading the date and time, my gaze snaps to the digital clock. “Shit, it’s in two hours.” I shouldn’t be surprised that we’re only finding out at the last minute. Why announce a highly illegal event days or weeks in advance and give the authorities time to find out about it and assemble a team.
“Where is it?” There’s an urgency behind Logan’s question. “Can we make it in time?”
Fuck, I hope so.
Typing the name of a nearby town into the browser brings up the location as close to three hours away. “It’ll be tight, but we can make it if we leave right now.” I’m already closing the laptop and grabbing my phone to call Dax. No way do I want to go into this without knowing we have backup ready outside.
“Hold on, we can’t go like this.” Grayson gestures at the sweats Logan is wearing. “It’s a ball. They’re going to expect us to be dressed up.”
“Shit, he’s right.” Logan swipes his hand through his hair. “I’ll be ready in five.”
Grayson has a point, though. “We all need to change. Full suits. Ry, you got a dress you can put on?”
She nods, pupils dilated with anxiety, leaving only a thin ring of hazel as she nibbles on her lip. “Are they going to let all of us in?” she asks nervously, glancing between us.
“You’ll go in with Grayson. Logan and I will pretend to be his muscle. There to ensure thecargois transported safely.” Riley’s nose isn’t the only one that scrunches.
“Alright, so we have a plan,” Logan states seriously.
“Yup, go get ready, and I’ll call Dax.”
“Got it,” I state as coordinates, and a QR code appears on my phone. We broke every speed limit and took more than a few risks climbing the steep mountainside roads to get here on time, and I had pulled into a mostly empty gas station a few minutes ago to await this message.
Plugging the coordinates into the GPS of the unmarked SUV Dax lent us to protect our identities and help sell our aliases, I glance at Riley in the rearview mirror before I pull the car onto the road. She’s sitting in the back with Grayson, the two of them finely dressed, as she stares out her passenger window and chews on her lip.
Leaving behind the small mountainside town, I follow the directions along a winding road. The SUV’s tires glide over the asphalt, the hum of the engine the only sound as we draw nearer. My hands grip the steering wheel with white-knuckled intensity, my jaw set in a hard line as I navigate the treacherous curves. The headlights cut through the inky darkness, revealing the perilous drop just inches from the road’s edge.
Beside me, Logan stares out the window, his thoughts a storm of fear and resolve. I can feel the tension radiating off him in waves, mirroring my own anxiety. I can’t fail Riley again. Ineedthis little girl to be Aurora, and this time I’m not fucking leaving without her.
Flicking my attention to the rearview mirror, my gaze catches on Grayson, his focus on the winding road ahead. His face is stoic, but a tightness around his lips and eyes belies his concern—not only for Riley but for Aurora. For all of us, really. Grayson’s anger comes from a place of caring. He’s a strategist. A planner. He despises how we’ve had to rush into this without knowing all the variables. I can’t say I disagree.
The road twists and turns as we drive in silence, each lost in our thoughts. The gravity of the situation is a dense cloud surrounding us all. Finally, a faint light appears in the distance, our destination coming into view as the SUV’s headlights sweep over a set of tall, imposing gates guarded by men in dark uniforms. The sight brings a mix of emotions—relief, anxiety, and a flicker of hope. Riley takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what’s to come as she leans forward between the two front seats. I catch a whiff of her perfume and inhale deeply, breathing it into my lungs.
A short line of high-end cars forms a line in front of us, each vehicle inching forward, their occupants masked in shadow and secrecy. I pull the SUV into the line, my heart pounding louder with each passing second. Logan shifts beside me, his gaze sharp and alert as he scans our surroundings.
As we near the front of the line, my pulse quickens. “Remember your roles,” I remind everyone as the first guard approaches, his expression stern and unyielding. He motions for me to lower the window, and I comply, feeling the cool mountain air rush in.
“Your QR code,” he demands, holding out a scanner. He runs it over my phone screen, and the device pings in confirmation. With a nod, he signals to another guard, who approaches with a different device.
This one begins meticulously scanning our SUV, running the device over and under the vehicle. I grip the steering wheel tighter, every muscle in my body taut with anxiety.
“How many are in the car?” the first guard asks, pointing his flashlight into the backseat before I’ve had a chance to respond. In a panic, my gaze snaps to the rearview mirror, and I breathe a quiet sigh of relief when I see Grayson has pulled Riley in against him. Her face is hidden from view, his hand high on her exposed thigh as he nuzzles her neck.
