Counsellor (Acquisition Series Book 1) (10 page)

Vinemont swept me through the crowd, moving closer to the tree. I wanted to dig in my heels, to stop his resolute forward momentum. It was no use. The nearer we drew to the platform, the louder my instinct screamed for me to run. Something metallic along the trunk caught my eye and my knees almost gave way. Three sets of silver shackles hung from the tree, each attached to chains that ascended into the branches above.

“No.” I pushed back against Vinemont.

“Calm down.” He changed course and led me around the tree and further toward the orchestra.

Another platform was set up toward the back of the room near the floor-to-ceiling windows. Three men sat atop it, each with a table in front of them at knee level. Each was shirtless. Every bare piece of their muscular skin was covered in ink—naked women, skulls, tribal, even flowers. One in a goblin mask seemed to pick Vinemont and me from the crowd.

“He’s staring at us,” I said. “The goblin, up there.”

“Everyone’s staring at us.”

Vinemont led me toward the goblin. I didn’t want to go, but I didn’t want to retreat and get any closer to the tree, either. We stopped midway between the two, far too close to the tree for my liking.

The orchestra suddenly quieted and then the hall fell utterly silent. All masks turned toward the platform where a man stood, his arms outstretched, a microphone in one hand. Someone worked up in the rafters of the hall, training a spotlight down on the apparent star of the show. His mask seemed to be an array of oak leaves, the same that decorated the tree behind him.

“Welcome to the twenty-fifth Acquisition Ball!” he shouted into his microphone.

A cheer went up from the crowd and then they all clapped as if they were at the opening of the Kentucky Derby.

After a ridiculous span of applause, the man held his hands out to quiet crowd.

“This year, we have an amazing slate of competitors.” He gazed around at the people beneath him, clearly a showman. “Though, of course, not as amazing as my Acquisition year. Cal Oakman for the win!”

Laughter sounded through the cavernous hall. Vinemont neither clapped nor laughed, just stood with me at his side. Tension was etched in his bearing just as fear must have been etched into mine.

“It has been an honor to be your Sovereign for the past decade, and I am pleased to say that any of the three firstborns chosen for this year’s Acquisition will make an excellent addition to the Sovereign legacy I leave behind. And now, without further ado, let’s introduce the Acquiring families!”

Another roar from the crowd.

The Acquiring firstborns were
chosen
? Vinemont hadn’t volunteered to ruin me, humiliate me? Of course he had. He was a cruel man who enjoyed hurting me. Wasn’t he? I couldn’t tell what was real anymore. And why were there three? I glanced around. Out of all these masked faces, only two could be my allies.

“First up. Robert Eagleton. Come on up, Bob, and show us what you brought with you!”

Someone moved through the crowd to our right. A middle-aged balding man in an eagle mask led a much larger man wearing a nearly identical mask. They took the stairs to the top of the platform and shared the spotlight with Oakman. The balding man puffed a bit, but the taller, younger man just stood and surveyed the crowd below.

“All right Bob, tell us who we have here.” Oakman should have hosted a game show. He held the microphone out for Bob.

“This is, well, this is Gavin. He’s my, um, Acquisition. And we will win this year.” Bob let out a sigh of relief, as if he’d gotten past the hardest part.

“Ready for the first reveal, everyone?”

Another bloodthirsty cheer. Or maybe the champagne bubbles playing in my mind just thought it was bloodthirsty.

Oakman removed the man’s mask. He looked to be in his early twenties, dark eyes, pale skin, short brown hair, handsome even from this distance. The crowd twittered and some wolf whistles rang out.

“Looks like we have a competition.” Oakman clapped Bob and Gavin off the stage along with the crowd.

“Up next, the Witheringtons. Red, you out there?”

More cheers.

Another man weaved through the crowd on the opposite side of the platform. He pulled a woman in a feather mask behind him, practically dragging her to the top of the platform.

The man, Red, took the microphone from Oakman. “This is Brianne, this year’s winning Acquisition.”

Red stripped her mask away, revealing a small, scared blonde. Her eyes were huge, and she visibly quaked under the spotlight.

“Oh, my,” Oakman stepped back and gave an over-the-top up and down look. “We’ve got some stiff competition, if you folks know what I mean!”

Hoots and whistles, mixed with laughter, echoed around the hall.

“We’re next.” Vinemont’s voice was in my ear, each syllable laced with rigid determination. Any hint of the heat he’d shown me outside was gone. He released my waist and took my hand. His palms were damp, the only indication that he was at all nervous.

Brianne and Red retreated from the platform.

“Now, last but never least, the Vinemonts. Counsellor Sinclair, show us your wares!”

He strode forward, confidence in every movement, and pulled me behind him. The tree loomed ahead, the shackles glinting in the spotlight. Foreboding rose inside me and blotted out my voice, my heart, and my soul. I followed. There was nowhere else to go.

We took the stairs one at a time, each step adding a weight to my shoulders, a rock to my stomach. Finally, we stood next to Oakman. Everything beyond the glittering stage was a dark blur. The spotlight was a blinding sun, focused on me as if by a cruel child with a magnifying glass.

“Her name is Stella, not that it matters.” Vinemont was cold, his words like frost in my mind.

He untied my mask and yanked it from my face. Then he ripped the cloak from me, my skin tingling from the sudden onslaught of open air. A collective gasp rose up from the crowd, followed by thunderous applause.

“Oh my, my. Now, Sinclair, you know I’ve always had a thing for redheads. And this is one is too choice to pass up.”

“I’ll tell you what, Cal, when I’m Sovereign, I’ll send you a new redhead each week,” Vinemont said to raucous laughter from the crowd below.

“I like the confidence. I’ve got my eye on this one, ladies and gents. Now, let’s get this party started right. Branding time!”

The orchestra started back up and Vinemont pulled me down from the platform. No longer hidden by the ornate mask or my cloak, I felt naked. The ghouls stared and leered as I walked past, Vinemont dragging me along through the pressing bodies.

Wait,
branding time?

He was leading me toward the tattooed goblin again. The male Acquisition, Gavin, was already shirtless and lying on his stomach, one of the other artists inking him in front of the masked onlookers.

“Bigger,” Bob directed.

The artist nodded and continued free-handing the outline of an eagle on Gavin’s shoulder blade.

The orchestra changed to a waltz, and many ballgoers paired off to dance, skirts swirling, their laughter melding with the music.

Red led his Acquisition, Brianne, over to one of the tables and shoved her down onto her back. He pulled the strap of her dark purple dress down so her left breast was exposed. “Over her heart. My name.”

Her eyes were squeezed shut, tension written along her vibrating body. I took an unsteady step toward Red, prepared to do my best to knee him in the balls. Before I got the chance, Vinemont’s iron grip encircled my upper arm and pushed me up onto the platform in the same rough fashion. He dropped me onto the table in front of the goblin and pushed me down until I lay prone.

The buzzing noise of the two other tattoo guns, mixed with poor Brianne’s whimpers, reached my ears over the waves of music.

“What’s it gonna be, Sin?”

The goblin knew Vinemont?

“The traditional V,” Vinemont replied.

“Where?”

“Here.” Vinemont’s hand swiped the hair off my nape and let it hang down beside me in a curling cascade. He moved the emerald necklace up and out of the way. Then his cold finger traced a V on the back of my neck.

“Can do.”

I had never gotten a tattoo. I’d thought about it plenty of times, but never had the conviction to get anything in particular. I used my body to make art. I didn’t intend to be the art. And now, I was getting a tattoo forced on me. Nothing was my choice anymore. I’d signed it away.

For the millionth time since this ordeal started, I pictured my father. He was sitting by the fire in his favorite chair—safe, warm, no doubt sad, but alive. I would do what I had to do. I would cover my entire body in ink if it would save him.

Despite knowing this sacrifice was worth it, I wanted to go numb, to stop experiencing the horror of what was happening. I couldn’t. I felt the cold table beneath me, felt the eyes of the masked people watching me as I was “branded,” and I felt Vinemont standing next to me, no doubt enjoying my degradation moment by moment.

The goblin leaned down and whispered in my ear. “It’s going to hurt, but I’ll be as nice as I can.”

“Thanks.”
Did I just thank my torturer?

The buzzing started close to my ear. I fisted my hands as the first stinging pain erupted at the back of my neck.

“Good girl,” the goblin said. “Just relax. I’m quick.” Some more buzzing pain followed, punctuated by Red telling Brianne to shut her fucking mouth. “Well, at least all the girls say I’m quick.”

Cruelty interspersed with sex jokes. This is what my life had become. I closed my eyes and let my arms fall, my knuckles brushing the floor as more pain ricocheted down my spine. I was an Acquisition, a possession to Vinemont. Nothing more. He would let the goblin mark my skin. He didn’t care. He was still the cold spider I’d known him to be since the first time I saw him. I was in his web now, caught and dangling as he fed off me slowly. How would he win this competition? What would victory entail? My death?

I let the pain flow into me, trapping it inside a box in my heart. I’d store it up, feed it, make it grow stronger until it turned into rage. Then I would let it out and bring Vinemont and the rest of these accursed people to their knees.

Chapter Twelve

Sinclair

She’d gone limp
. Given up. Tony continued his work, making a better V than even the one gracing my chest. He was my personal tattoo artist. His shop in Mobile was the toast of the South. People came from all over the country, all over the world, just to bear his ink.

He finished up the last of the thorns, done in the same deep green as mine, when I leaned down and added a little something extra.

“I want a small spider.” I pointed to one of the inner curves of vines. “Here.”

I whispered it low enough that Stella wouldn’t hear it over the music and the buzzing. She always referred to me as a spider. Now, I would be on her body permanently.

“I like it, man.” Tony switched to a deep crimson ink and drew in the small accent. “Nice.”

One of the buzzing sounds stopped. Red’s Acquisition sat up and yanked her dress back in place over her bare breast. I almost pitied her. That little show of skin was nothing compared to what came next.

I pitied her more for the garish tattoo Red had forced on her—his name in bright red ink with blue flames licking the letters. What a fucking prick to ruin a beautiful woman that way.

I shook my head. No, Red has his head in the game. Ruination was the goal. I was over here dicking around and ensuring Stella’s brand was art, not something to mar her perfect skin. I’d told myself too many times to stop thinking of her as a person. But here I was, doing it again and letting my dick lead me around.

I’d already given in to her, promised her a reward for making it through this night. It was foolish. Still, if it worked even a little to keep her in line, it was worth it. This was spectacle, all of it. I needed the families, and especially Cal, to come away from this seeing me as the frontrunner for Sovereign.

Bob’s Acquisition didn’t fare much better than Red’s. At least the eagle on his man’s back had some artistry in it. It was nothing compared to Tony’s work, but it turned out far better than the travesty on Brianne’s chest.

“All right. She’s all done.” Tony sat back and admired his handiwork before rubbing some salve along Stella’s skin.

It was a wasted effort. Her tattoo was the least of her worries.

Stella sat up and gave me the most vicious glare I’d ever seen on her face. Not even after the day in the yard had she flashed at me with such hate.

“Here, angel, check it in the mirror. It’s not so bad.”

Tony handed Stella a mirror and held one up behind her so she could see the design. Her crimson lips fell open. “That goddamn V? And what’s the red thing. It looks like…” Her gaze shot up to my eyes. “A spider.”

“Yes, indeed.” Tony took her mirror and began packing up his tattoo gear.

“Head on out, Tony,” I said. “Money’s already in your account.”

Tony popped his head up and surveyed the room. “Sure I can’t stay and see if I can convince one of these masked freaky chicks to go home with me?”

Tony had no idea what was going on. I’d told him this was a fancy party with paid staff and entertainment, Stella and the other Acquisitions being the entertainment. He thought all this was voluntary and just a night of fun. If he stayed any longer, he would know just how non-consensual the whole thing was. I didn’t want to alienate one of the true friends I actually had, and nothing alienates like slavery and whippings.

“No, man. No offense, but you don’t have a chance with these women. Well, unless your bank account is bigger than I think.”

“Definitely not. Okay, then. I’m out. Thanks again, Sin. And it was lovely working on you.” He took Stella’s hand and kissed it. “I’d love to see you in my shop sometime. Color you in some other areas.”

She smiled at him. Actually smiled. “I’d like that.”

Something roared to life inside me. It ripped at my ribs and tried to claw through my chest. Jealousy. Petty, overbearing, jealousy. I took her hand from his.

Tony laughed and jumped down from the platform. He gave a salute and then cut through the crowd and out one of the side doors.

“Why did you smile at him?” The ridiculousness of the question hit me only after I asked it.

“Because he was nice to me and he clearly had no idea what sort of fucked up shit you all are doing out here,” She held my gaze, challenge in her bearing. “It’s not his fault you dragged him into it.”

“I didn’t drag him into anything. I paid him well to create art on your body, and that’s exactly what he did.”

She raised her eyebrows and straightened her back. “You think the taint of this place doesn’t rub off on people? You think he’s unscathed?”

I grabbed her by the elbow. “He’s a lot more unscathed than you’re going to be.”

“Fuck you.”

Shit.
Her anger shot straight to my cock, even in the middle of this crowd of devils. Her eyes flashed at me in unbridled fury.

“In time.” I gave her the smile I knew she hated, the one that got under her skin.

She lifted a hand to strike me. I caught it and pulled it down, squeezing her wrist hard. “Do that again, and I’ll hit back much, much harder. Understand?”

I wanted her to do it again, to knock my mask off so she could see the real me, the one who wanted to make it hurt, to fuck her, to make her scream. Her fear was easier for me to deal with than her anger. Her anger made me want to push her further, to take her to the edge, to make her beg me for something, anything. Her anger spurred me on to break her. Her fear let me know I was getting close.

The music piped down, the circling vultures slowing to a stop as Cal climbed atop the central platform again. “All right folks, brandings are done. Looks like we’re ready for the big show.”

Masked servants rushed in through the side doors with various pieces of equipment and furniture. Whips, chains, clamps, dildoes, spanking benches, couches, and too many beds to count. Once everything was in place, a cavalcade of prostitutes entered through the doors. Masked and nude, there was something for everyone—thin, ample, old, and young; they stood like low-hanging fruit, ready for the taking. The ballgoers flitted out and picked this one or that one, dragging the choice morsels back to their chosen spot of depravity.

I glanced down to Stella. She stood mesmerized. She’d unconsciously stepped closer to me as the hall geared up for the main event. Now, she was frozen in her horror, perhaps unable to comprehend the well of the evil in this room. It was deep, far too deep for anyone to plumb its depths. Especially not her. Naiveté swirled around her like a priceless perfume. The vein at her neck fluttered in a distressed rhythm. It was beautiful, like the pale wings of a butterfly—and just as fragile.

The orchestra kept playing softly as the dance floor became a sea of debauchery. Only a center strip was left open. The parade route.

“Come on, Acquisitions, don’t be shy. Step on up. Time to really show us what you have to offer.” Cal was gleeful.

I took Stella’s hand and pulled her through the crowd, many of them already disrobing and setting on each other like wild animals. Fucking, biting, scratching. They left their masks on, as if it made any difference. The guest list was expertly curated. Any number of governors, wealthy socialites, business magnates, and others were congregated here tonight. The entire power structure south of the Mason Dixon was in this room, rutting like pigs and enjoying the show.

I dragged my sacrificial lamb behind me as she gasped at the spectacle all around her. Men and women clawed at her as she rushed past, their hunger bleeding over onto anyone and anything. Stella’s purity was like a beacon. I sensed it, too. I wanted to drag her down and feast on her just like they did. But that wasn’t what she was here for. Not yet.

We made it to the end of the cleared section of floor that bisected the entire hall and took our place behind Bob, Gavin, Red, and Brianne. The servants had quickly placed risers along the ground in a straight line so the walkway was elevated above the thriving mass of wickedness all around. Cries rose up and were drowned out by others. The orchestra continued playing as if nothing out of place were happening.

“Time to walk the walk, Acquisitions.” Cal was crowing atop the podium as one of the prostitutes sucked his cock.

I hated the idea of him seeing Stella, of any of them seeing her. She was mine. But I kept having to share her.

Bob pushed Gavin up the stairs. “Walk.”

Gavin obeyed, tentatively placing one foot in front of the other. Once he’d made it a little way across, he was emboldened, holding his head a bit higher, his shoulders back. It made sense. After all, walking was easy.

He picked up his pace. When he got to the end of the walk, he turned to come back. Two men grabbed him, stripped off his coat, and then ripped his shirt away. He started to fight them but stopped when one held up a cattle prod. The other one pointed back down the runway.

Stella trembled next to me as Brianne broke down into gut-wrenching sobs. Red grabbed her by the hair and shook her. She screamed, high and piercing.

Stella reached out, fast as a cat, and gripped Red’s arm, trying to wrest his grip from Brianne. Her small hands did nothing to stop him.

“Get your bitch under control, Vinemont, before I do it for you.”

I wrapped my arm around Stella’s waist and pulled her back. “Stop, Stella. You’re making it worse.”

She lunged at Red again as Brianne still suffered in his grasp. I held her back and away from him.

“What, you don’t like this?” Red asked and shook Brianne again. He used his other hand and ripped down the back of her dress, leaving her top fully exposed. “What about this? Stella, is it? Do you like this?” Red ripped her dress again until the fabric fell to the floor.

“You, son of a bitch!” Stella cried.

“Oh, look over here. We have a wild one.” Cal’s voice grated on my ears as it boomed around the room.

I put my hand around Stella’s throat and squeezed until she fell back against me gasping for air.

“Stop fighting,” I hissed in her ear.

“Motherfucker. You, motherfuckers,” was all she managed to get out.

Red sneered and stepped toward us.

“Back the fuck up, Red.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll stomp another mud hole in your ass, same as I did at your sister’s wedding last year. Remember that?”

“Fuck you, Sin.”

“Right back at you, Red.”

He returned to his toy, palming her ass so hard it had to hurt as she waited her turn. He leered at Stella as he did it, but she didn’t make another move.

“You’re all best friends, aren’t you?” Stella’s voice was quiet. “You’re all the same. Let me go. I’ll be
good
.” She put an acid inflection on the last word.

Her comment should have stung me, but it was true. Red and I were the same breed. He was just playing the game better than I was at the moment. That would be remedied before the night ended.

I released Stella, but stayed ready to hold her again. I didn’t know what Red would do if she actually managed to hurt him. It wouldn’t be pretty. Not that I’d let him hurt her. That wasn’t his right.

She stood in front of me, careful not to touch me. The back of her dress was open so I could see her smooth skin. She was so pale against the deep green of the dress. Flawless, radiant skin. I stared, knowing that it would never look this way again, not after tonight.

Gavin was on his final run, fully nude and halfway across the walkway back to us. Men and women rose from below to touch him. I froze at the thought of one of them touching Stella. But they would. There was nothing I could do to stop them.

“Go on, whore.” Red pushed the shivering Brianne up onto the walkway. She wore only heels as she made her way between the revelers.

Many rushed to her, their fingers reaching to touch her pussy, her ass, her tits. Towards the middle, one man actually pulled her down and threw her on the nearest bed before trying to force her legs apart. Her scream blended with the others. Two servants approached and pulled the man off before setting her back on the platform. Now her shoes were missing and she was sobbing as she walked.

She made it to the other end and tried to stay there. It took a near miss with the cattle prod to get her moving again. By the time she made it back to us, her makeup was streaked from tears and her body shook with sobs.

“Again,” Red demanded.

She shook her head. Red advanced on her with a menacing step.

“Go, just go. Get it over with.” Stella urged the girl to pass through hell one more time. “You can do it. You have to.”

Brianne focused on Stella who was nodding at her, encouraging her.

“I’ll be here when you get back, okay? The faster you go, the faster it’ll be done. And then it’ll be my turn.”

Red turned and put two fingers to his mouth in a ‘V’ before sticking out his tongue at Stella. “I can’t wait.”

I wanted to take out his knees, pound him into the ground, and then piss on his fucking corpse. Stella ignored him.

Brianne took the steps back up and made her final pass, far more quickly this time without heels. When she got back, Stella moved to embrace her but Red cut her off.