Page 30 of The Devil of Hollywood

“Call the men and have them meet us at the airport. Now.”

I turned in a circle, not able to stop the racing of my mind. Where revenge usually ruled me, it was so far from the consuming thoughts I was drowning in now. To think she could be harmed or killed by some stranger, or even Bastian, himself, left me in a panic. How could hate and concern coincide and be so intimate? They coddled each other like lovers. As if they were meant for one another.

“Elec, I have to go."

“No… we’re talking. I’m telling you what we’re up against. Now is not the time to make rash decisions.”

“We’re talking about Marian. I have to go.”

“Go where?” Elec’s tone was harsh, underlying a suspicion that told me he knew more than he was saying. It had my brain finally clearing. “You’re going to London, but where? To do what? We don’t even know if that’s where the plane is headed.”

“I understand that, but I can’t wait around here to find out. Marian’s life could be on the line. We both know every minute she’s with them she could be experiencing—she could—fuck no. I know you want more information, but I can’t wait around to see what it is. Update me when you know where they’re headed. In the meantime, I’ll be on my way.”

“Drayton… Wait… Dammit.”

Muffled voices came through, and I couldn’t tell who Elec was talking with. For so long, we’d been distant. That was my fault for pushing everyone away after my life went to shit, but that was over now. Elec pulled the strings. He was high up in our circle. He gave me my title back and convinced the Uppers to gift me Marian. I owed him, and more than just the celebrities I planned to funnel into the Garden of the Gods.

“Dray, there’s something I haven’t told you. Marian wasn’t easy to obtain through the Council. A lot of people wanted her. One Main Master, like me, in particular. But not for reasons we may think. If he took her, she’d go underground.”

“Trafficked?” My heart dropped to my gut.

“It’s complicated, but yes. Marian is just icing on the cake. Marian is the holy grail in our world. She is the last of her bloodline and is from one of our founding members. That could either play in her favor or not. With her mother’s reputation, it could be bad. Regardless, we are the enemy, Drayton.”

“Stop.” I squeezed my lids shut. “You’re saying it’s possible that Marian is being trafficked right now to a place like Garden of the Gods? That this underground society wants to hurt her because of her mother and her bloodline?”

Hesitation.

“Dray, I said that was the icing. We’re not positive what’s happening yet, but since you’re determined to go, you have to know what you may be up against. It has been suspected for some time that Penelope wasn’t taken by just any elite. It’s possible she was taken by the elite. The only one who matters in London anymore. Not the reigning royalty or nobility. There’s only one king who holds weight, and it’s not the one who claims the throne. He’s known as The Unavowed. The Forsaken. The Uncrowned. He is the only living heir from The Black Line, and he's recently moved in to take his place after the previous Main Master was killed. It’s a royal bloodline erased from history but not memory. The Order of the Unavowed is London’s Garden of the Gods, and if their new Main Master is after Penny, Marian is about to be in a lot more danger than either of us have prepared for. Getting her back may prove impossible. By the time you get there, there may not be anything left of her at all.”

Marian

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The disturbance to the void I’d been resting in rippled, pulling me back to awareness. To a knowing my brain couldn’t even decipher. Fear? No. I wasn’t there yet. I couldn’t think. It was instinct leaving me clawing to some sort of memory. To emotion. But I could barely blink in the light before heaviness pulled me down again.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Water. My brain processed the sound, but with it, the “knowing” returned. The one that told me to scream out. The one that whispered to run.

Drip.

Drip.

Darkness.

A glow…

Blurry stone barely registered in the dim room. There was no light, but I didn’t need it to feel the coarse fabric from the cot that scraped across my cheek as I turned and tried to lift my head. My body wasn’t working right. I was moving, just not how I needed to.

Drip. Drip.

Drip.

Time.

Drip.

My lids flew open, and with it, I gasped, choking on oxygen while my throat tightened even more. My mouth was so dry. Every muscle in my body ached. A gray color blurred as my eyes rolled, and I fought the unconsciousness that was trying to pull me back under. I was half on my side, half on my stomach, and I couldn’t feel my arm as I struggled to sit.