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The guy gives me a wary look, then nods. “Ah, the Americans. Please put on your masks and go straight ahead. Have a pleasant evening.”
We do as he says and I feel bizarrely relieved to be able to cover my face and uneasiness. The moment we enter through the large doors, it feels as if we’ve entered a different world. High ceilings richly decorated with golden moldings, paneled walls, plush, dark carpets, and grandiose paintings at the walls. Guests, both men and women, are elegantly dressed in cocktail garments, their masks adding that touch of mystery and sensuality to the atmosphere.
A waiter passes by, holding a large platter filled with glasses of champagne that I politely decline, only to have a glass being held right under my nose.
“Here. Drink.Low profile,” Austin mutters. Despite my earlier, harsh words, I need to keep myself from clinging onto him like a koala. Instead, I offer him a polite nod and take the glass, not wanting to make a fuss. We wander through the room togethe where different groups of people are politely conversing while sipping their drinks.
Who would come to a party like this? What kind of people are they? Do they know about the killings? I take a nervous sip while my eyes dart around, finding a beautiful black piano in the corner. The notes that leave the instrument are slow and anxiety-inducing. Legato sounds in a minor key that adds another ominous essence to this evening. Then, two men appear in the room, and the crowd, a combination of guests and cult members, gather together with slow, lazy steps. I recognize one of them—theCaptainwho performed his hypnosis—from last night. I feel Austin stiffen next to me and instinctivelyknowthat he’s seen him as well. They look glorious tonight, wearing forest green silk shirts with a low v, and light, loose-fitted pants. Their masks are beautifully decorated with red and golden curls.
A smaller man approaches them—his raven hair is a stark contrast to his milky skin and his light eyes shine like stars in the sky. He’s dressed in nothing more than leather shorts that emphasize his slight build, long legs, and beautifully sculpted chest. Around his neck, he wears a black leather collar. Though surprisingly, he doesn’t wear a mask.
Trésor.
He gives the other two men a smile, then bows for hisCaptainwho puts a hand on his skull and pushes him further down into submission.
“Bonsoir,” theCaptainrumbles, the smoothness of his voice tickling the air. It makes me shiver with anticipation, or is it fear? At this stage, I don’t know anymore, though determination licking at my insides to fulfill my mission, is mixed with anxiety that we won’t succeed after all. That we’ll end up trapped at this party. Trapped behind the madness of this cult that sells sex dreams like hot cakes. And by the sight of their guests, carefully disguised for the occasion, Manuel’s words linger:
Don’t ever underestimate them.
The crowd gives a mumble in return, sounding equally intoxicated.
TheCaptaintilts a finger under the chin of the smaller man in front of him, hisTrésor,pulling up his face to drop a slow kiss on his lips. They seem to share a moment of intimacy that looks strangely romantic, like they are lovers, before the smaller man looks back toward the crowd.
His hunt for something, orsomeone, brings a crackling tension everywhere he searches, with somebrothersclearly letting out a sigh of relief when he discards them. Then he locks his gaze and a slow, evil smile curls slowly into place. I bite my lip to stop myself from grabbing Austin’s tight, strong body to protect his mind from predators.
The crowd equally trembles, and when I hear someone cry out, we all move forward, wanting to see what’s happening. Being brought forward by two black suits is a maskedbrotherin light leather shorts, and the hunter greets his trophy with a grimace that sends a chill down my spine. He curls out a hand, then crooks his finger for the masked man to follow him, slowly, his doom on full display in a parade of humiliation, toward another room. I don’t know what’s about to happen, but my heart’s hammering in my chest. Some people follow the two young men, some stay, and I let out a relieved breath. With the electric vibe having temporarily faded away, conversations pick up again and the pianist resumes his crescendo.
“Une boisson,monsieur?”
A waiter holding a tray with only one glass of champagne gives me a light bow. I look at my own glass—only half empty—and want to politely decline when I notice the slight shimmer in the eyes behind the mask. “I’m a friend,” he whispers in English. “From Manuel.” Relief washes through me until I notice Austin’s no longer by my side. “We have to be quick.” He spins on his heels and takes off, and my hesitation crumbles into a pile of dust in less than two seconds, replaced with a shot of adrenaline as I practically jog to keep up with him. Voluptuous scenes of seduction and fucking are on full display all around me. Smaller, dark-haired men on leashes, decorated with jewelry and piercings, their creme-colored garments hanging loosely around their sculpted shapes as their bodies are being used for pleasure. A woman with a Marie Antoinette wig and a beautifully decorated gown is sitting on a chair, a fan hiding her coy smile as aTrésoris licking her feet while her husband fucks him from behind. When he’s been held up by his hair, she gives him a kiss on his lips, and lets out another giggle, only to watch him intently as her man plunges back and forth roughly.
I follow the bartender through what feels like a maze. This place is somehow a lot larger than I’d expected. Turning around, I notice that we’ve left the party behind.
I left Austin behind.
My earlier bitter words echo through my head. Untruths fueled by frustration that he has so much power over me. I’m fightinghim, and losing.Push me around all you like, my love, as long as you give me your attention. I crave you.
“Here.” The anonymous waiter leads me through the door of a place that appears to be a bedroom. By now, the pounding of my heart is so fast, I’m afraid it might burst out of my chest. What if everyone’s in on this? Images of masked people circling me with scowls and sneers, crowding me, smothering me, appear at the surface of my mind. “What’s your name?” I rasp with a clenched throat. He doesn’t reply. Instead, he gives the space a quick glance over, then peers right back at me. “Is it theMaster’sphone you need?”
“Yes.” He gives me a quick nod, then dashes for the door.
“Stay here,” he barks before he closes the door behind him. Leaving me alone in agony.
Austin, my heart hums, where are you?
I let my eyes roam the place, but don’t dare move, afraid to make a sound. This plan looked so much better before. Right now… I don’t know how the hell we’ll be getting out of this place. And if they catch us, and find out who we are, they’ll have hit the jackpot. How murdering us will be sweet for this sickfamily.
The door opens and the masked man returns. “Here.” He tosses me the phone. “You’ve got one minute.”
His voice sends shivers down my spine and my legs quiver with fear. Yet my wish to survive this, to go back home, puts me in sixth gear. I grab my own phone from my underwear and get to it right away, trying to calm the fuck down and let my brain take over. I try a few variations, but…
“Shit. What’s the password?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Try 1118.”
“Yess,” I hiss when the phone opens up for me. I don’t think it’s a burner phone, which is perfect. I check my validation link, install the spyware on his phone and hide it under a name and icon we’ve created ourselves. Then I copy the phone’s IP address on my own and hand it back to the anonymous waiter. “Done. Fuck man, I owe you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Let’s get you out of here first. Let me check if the coast is clear.” I feel nerves bubbling up and shake my head. “Don’t bother, I’ll find my way. You’ve already helped me enough.” But he won’t have any of it, instead ignoring me and leaving me once more.
