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Skimming through the countless messages, my gut churned, hastening my descent by skipping every second step. “We have to leave.Now.”
Spencer huffed. “Oh, sonowshe wants to rush.”
“What the fuck is happening?” Emerson asked.
“It’s sacrilege to swear in the house of religion, oh pious Meek.”
“Spence. Start talking.”
“Ava sent a message,” Spencer said. “Something big is happening at Forbidden Garden, and they don’t want the princess around to catch a whiff. They plan on relocating her tonight.”
Emerson hummed. “Tan doesn’t get back till late. The plan was fo—”
“Doesn’t matter,” I interrupted. “I’m not losing her. I made a promise.” The potential danger loomed over my head like a noose. If they succeeded in taking her underground, we may never find her again.
“Well, are we going to break Psycho out first? As planned?”
I ran a hand down my face. “There’s no time, we might miss her.” I reached the bottom of the staircase and rounded on my sisters. “Which means it’s up to us. Will you help me?”
Spencer slid down the last step, her face splitting into one of her most charming smiles. “I’ve already got a plan.”
Emerson sent a wink over Spencer’s shoulder. “Then let’s fucking do this.”
“Blasphemy!” Spencer gasped, holding a hand to her chest, as if her mouth wasn’t as foul as the rest of ours.
I stepped between them and hooked an arm over each of their shoulders, leading to the hidden passageway to our underground Temple. “It’s been a while since we were on a missiontogether.”
Emerson leant into my side. “Definitely long overdue.”
Spencer’s smile grew wider, almost predatory. “I’ve been waiting for our killer band to regroup for so long. Wait ‘till you see what I have planned.”
My lips curved higher. Knowing my sister, her plan was absolutely crazy and rash—exactly the way we like it.
Forbidden Garden was a hot mess,the interior drenched in various shades of pink (which wasn’t completely horrid, in itself). More so, it was the overdramatic embellishments that gave it a tacky appearance: ostentatious chandeliers, plastic oversized plants and cheap furniture dominated the space.
Regardless of my harsh assessment, Forbidden Garden was bustling with irresistible enticement and sugary temptation.
I wore a lingerie one-piece in the design of a red rose, the green stem a thin piece of string replicating a thong. The flower embroidered over my front, with mini petals blooming to barely cover my nipples and centre. I’d airbrushed my skin, tattoos disguised beneath the pristine makeup, resulting in a sheen finish reflecting off the dimmed lights.
An external spare of desire was the only warning my Variant gave before a hard palm slapped against my butt cheek.
“Grab me another bourbon,Rose Petal, and I’ll soothe that ache for you,” said a gruff, masculine voice. He had platinum blonde hair that fell into his cold, dark brown eyes. He seemed familiar, though I was sure I’d never met him before.
My fingers twitched to return the favour. Instead I inclined my head and aimed for the bar, lined against the back of the theatre room. I spared a cursory glance to the elevated stage up front, two women provocatively dancing a well-rehearsed strip tease.
Ava mixed drinks behind the bar, tracking my approach. She didn’t know who I was, curious eyes shifting over my stranger’s face. She wore a full-length sheer gown, embroidered daisies perfectly situated over her most private areas.
Every female in Forbidden Garden, no matter their rank or position, was named after a flower, their attire displaying their alias for clientele simplicity and anonymity.
Ava was tall, with familiar midnight blue hair and recognisable facial structure. Her similarities with August threw me the first time I’d caught sight of her, the resemblance irrefutable. She didn’t have any visible guards, however many Ludus members loitered the halls. Taking her would be a challenging feat, but one that would be satisfying when successful.
I leant over the bar, wearing an easy smile.
“Wait your turn, bitch,” said a high-pitched voice from behind. I glanced over my shoulder to catch a woman with a stylish bob, wearing an outfit wholly consisting of draping jewels. She struggled to hide her aged skin beneath caked make-up, accompanied by gigantic eyelashes nearly as big as her ego.
She barked her order and placed a living, breathing chihuahua on the bar, its gigantic balls hanging so low they almost scraped the countertop.
Fucking unhygienic, much?
