The Emerald Virgin (Gem Apocalypse Book 1) Page 5

  Aria wanted to thank Clara for her help and generosity. She'd been so kind since Aria had met her, but the words didn't come. Aria wiped the tears but they just continued to fall.

  Clara brought in another beautiful green gown. This one darker and richer in color. "Put this on," she said. "Do you need help getting undressed?"

  Aria wiped the tears with the back of her hand and took the gown from Clara. Standing, she headed for the bathroom, stripping out of the remnants of splattered blood, dirt, and grass. Unaware if the blood was hers or Ethan's, Aria had a few scratches from the spill on the motorcycle. Aria turned the sink on, prepared to clean off the dirt and blood that licked her skin. The moment her tears slowed, the flood of horror came back and she bent over the sink bawling.

  Aria didn't hear the bathroom door open, but she felt warm hands on her arms, pushing her hands down to her side. Clara helped her dress, sliding the gown up Aria's torso and then guided her arms in through the sleeves. Aria didn't move. Clara walked around from behind and zipped the back of the dress. Staring at her own reflection in the mirror, she felt like a ghost, an empty shell. Her body and mind weren't connecting.

  "Come with me," Clara said and she took Aria's hand, guiding her through the bedroom and toward the sitting room.

  Aria froze. Her legs unwilling to enter. She didn't want to see eleven other girls vying for Prince James's affection. They could all have him. Aria never wanted to be here, and she didn't want to explain herself to them.

  "Aria." Clara's voice was soft but it held a hint of warning.

  "I can't go in there." Aria's eyes burned. They were red and swollen, making it obvious she'd been crying.

  "What happened today?"

  Clara came around to stand in front of the door jam. She waited patiently for an answer. Aria felt as though they could wait here all day, and Clara wouldn't budge.

  "Prince James insisted on taking me to the market."

  "I see."

  There was no way she could see. Did she know what these men and royals were capable of; giving orders to murder innocent people?

  Aria's mother had been put down like a wild animal for harboring the emerald child, a fugitive of the crown. Would they feel different if it had been their own families under the same firing squad?

  "You don't see. You can't see. The prince had my friend killed."

  Clara frowned. "Tell me the whole story."

  How many other girls got themselves into such a mess while at the palace? Was Aria the only one?

  It hurt to divulge the details, to relive Ethan's last final moments beside him. Aria recanted the story to Clara, including how her mother had been murdered and that James had done nothing to stop the same of Ethan's execution.

  Clara guided her into the sitting room. A half-dozen of the girls were sitting around the hearth talking and relaxing. One girl was braiding another's hair, as if there wasn't a care in the world.

  "You can't expect James to change the way things are. It's not his fault you're in this situation, Aria. If he didn't choose you as a courtesan, then another brother would have. August had two choices this month, as did Aaron. Whether you accept it or not, Aria, you are an emerald. Men will want you because you are exotic. James isn't a bad guy. He's just caught up in being a prince. I've known Prince James a long time, Aria. He will take off the monitoring device when he grows to trust you again."

  "It doesn't matter. I don't have anywhere else to go. My family is dead. The one friend I had is dead. I have nothing, Clara."

  "You have us, and we have each other. Stay on Prince James's good side. Offer him what happiness you can give him. Show him that you've changed, that he can trust you. Of the four eldest brothers, James is a good man. He's warm, kind, decent, and loyal."

  Aria didn't want to change. She wasn't looking to compromise her beliefs. It would never be okay to murder and hold people against their will so another person could be happy. "You don't understand," Aria said. "He let Matthew kill Ethan."

  Clara placed a hand on her arm.

  Aria winced. There was no bruise, at least not from James dragging her inside. He'd been rough but she didn't fault him for that. The marks that burned were from the fall on the motorcycle, the tumble she took while riding trying to get away. What little good it did.

  "James had no choice. Had Matthew not returned with both of you, James would have had to face his father's wrath. Believe me when I say how painful it is. The car, the trip, everything outside of the palace is always under surveillance. The footage is watched by a team close to King Gideon. It's how he ensures his men are loyal. They're not supposed to know they're being recorded, but it hasn't been a secret in over a decade. The moment the vehicle approached you and Ethan, his fate was sealed," Clara said.

  * * * * *

  James avoided the sitting room for the next two days. When he wanted to visit with Adalyn or another of his courtesans, he asked Clara to retrieve the girl of his choosing from the royal harem.

  In two days it felt as though he'd asked all the girls but Aria to visit with him at some point. Whether for breakfast, afternoon tea, an evening stroll, or a companion in the bedroom, he avoided her.

  How long would she last as a courtesan if James wouldn't be caught in the same room as the emerald? She tried to mask her unhappiness and ease any concerns with the girls. The last thing she wanted was for the rumors to start. The dresses Clara brought Aria all flowed down to her feet, covering the bracelet. Careful to keep it hidden, Aria wanted no one to know of her indiscretion. The device silent, so long as she remained in the palace.

  Did James not see she had nowhere else to go? Besides, it's not as though she could open a window and sneak out. The royal harem was on the fourth floor and confined them to the sitting room, a dining hall, and their respective bedroom. The only way out was for someone to let them leave the floor, which required a key.

  The handle squeaked and Aria knew someone was shoving a key into the lock from the hallway. King Gideon opened the door and glanced the courtesans over. "Aria Stone, you're coming with me."

  Aria didn't have a choice. Fighting would only make her punishment more difficult. She stood and with grace, followed the king out into the hall. He slammed the door shut behind them. He stood incredibly close and Aria took a step back only to feel him linger closer within her presence. He gave her a creepy vibe.

  "Seems James is bored of you already. Always thought emeralds held power and liked to have fun in the sack. I guess he's tired of how you taste."

  Aria bit her tongue and kept herself from speaking out of turn. It didn't take an emerald to have power. He was a blue-eyed tyrant hell bent on destroying what was left of the nation. If it were up to Aria and she had any semblance of power, she would destroy King Gideon and his monarchy. Unfortunately, she wielded no power, and though her eyes betrayed her as an emerald, she was nothing more than a slave to the court.

  "What do you want with me?" Aria was afraid of the answer.

  "You haven't even been around a week and you've disappointed the court. I know what happened when James was kind enough to take you the market. You betrayed his trust and mine. There's no place in court for a spoiled girl like you, Aria."

  Aria followed King Gideon down the stairwell. The bracelet on her ankle didn't make a sound. He led Aria to the front entrance, the same way James had taken her to the market. She felt an over encompassing sense of déjà vu.

  "Lift your dress," Gideon said.

  "Excuse me?" He may have been close to tying with Prince August for most notches on the bedpost, but Aria would not be either one of their conquests.

  "Do you want the bracelet removed or not?" he asked.

  With a resigned sigh, Aria did as instructed, lifting the hem of the green gown she wore. It was a forest green, deep and dark. If she ran far enough away, into the woods, would she blend in to her surroundings?

  Gideon bent down, something she never thought to see from a king. From his pocket, he dug out a k
ey and unlocked the chain around her foot.

  His hand lingered, longer than necessary. She felt the unfamiliar warmth as his touch grazed up her thighs, inching her dress higher, and he slowly raised himself up to her crotch, shoving his nose close trying to breathe in her scent. Aria raised her knee up to his face, smacking his jaw shut as she knocked the king onto his back.

  "You arrogant little brat!" King Gideon screamed. He stood up and lifted Aria over his shoulder. She half expected him to spank her after what Prince James had done when she'd disobeyed him in the palace.

  The front door swung open and Aria was tossed from Gideon's arms to a man she didn't know, covered in tattoos and scruff. He reeked of ale, his hair thick and black, hung past his shoulders.

  "Lock the bitch up, I'm done with her," Gideon said.

  "Yes, Your Majesty." The man carried Aria outside over his shoulder as she kicked and screamed. It did little good. Tossed in the back of a van with a half-dozen other women of varying ages, she attempted to fight back. Aria raced for the door but it slammed before she could escape. The handle inside locked.

  "You can't get out," a soft voice said.

  "Where is he taking us?" Aria asked.

  The girl who spoke was a few years younger than Aria. She sat against the side wall of the truck. "The slave auction. It's best not to fight it. Trust me."

  Chapter Four

  Upon their arrival, they were stripped and forced into an examination room. There were no windows and no way out, the lighting minimal. A guard stood on the other side of the door with a gun.

  "Lie down, put your feet into the stirrups, and push your rear to the edge of the table," the doctor said.

  "Why?"

  "We need to see whether you're a virgin. Pure women fetch us more during the auction."

  Aria glanced past the man for the door, doubting he was a doctor. How far could she get?

  A part of Aria wished that she'd slept with James, just so another man wouldn't buy her for one sole purpose: sex. She'd rather be forced to handle a family's laundry or fetch them water and cook for them, if that were a possibility.

  No syringe or scalpel has been left unattended. Nothing lay nearby for her to use as a weapon. The room was bare, except for the stirrups and a light that he has now repositioned at the end of the table to examine Aria. Could this be any more humiliating? She'd already abandoned her clothes and now he wanted an even more intimate glimpse?

  "Lie back and put your feet in the stirrups, or I'll be forced to call in for additional help. They'll hold you down and it won't be pleasant."

  Aria did as instructed. She felt violated. The doctor though quick hadn't been quick enough, shoving two fingers inside of her pussy. She slammed her eyes shut, wanting the invasion to be over with.

  When the doctor finished, he tossed the rubber gloves and stepped out of the room. A woman came in, throwing Aria the green dress she arrived in. "Put this on, we're moving you."

  The move wasn't very far, just across the hall. Aria stepped inside and heard the lock click behind her. A half-dozen girls sat on sleeping bags nestled on the floor. They looked as frightened as she felt. There was no other furniture, no dresser or beds.

  Aria didn't know when the auction was scheduled for, the men running this place weren't chatty or forthcoming with information. They delivered their food, but there were no answers. The sun would rise and set, day after day.

  Four days of awkward silences and waking to the sounds of the other girl's nightmares. Fear ripped at her heart. Aria may not have been happy at the palace, but she had been comfortable. There were no friendly courtesans or maids to keep her company here.

  Small portions of food were brought but she couldn't eat. Another girl stole her food the moment she left the tray unattended. Not that it mattered to her. She sipped some murky water from a glass, choking on the taste of dirt. Having grown up in the winter months when food grew scarce, she knew the importance of always keeping hydrated. She did not wish to die, not like this.

  The doors were always locked, offering no chance of escape. Even as they were brought into the facility, a half-dozen men brandished guns making it impossible to run. Aria would be dead before she made it to the old torn up street outside.

  The house had barred windows, making it a useless getaway. That's probably why they chose this place. The neighborhood was quiet, deserted. The only sign of life had been the guards, with rotating shifts wandering the perimeter, they never put down their guns. They were ready at a moment's notice, but Aria wondered if it was because they were protecting their merchandise, them, from something much more sinister.

  With her ear pressed against the door, she overheard the guards. The first auction of several would be lined up starting tonight and following into the weekend. Each girl would be presented and bid on. Aria was scheduled for tonight. The rest of the conversation was too muffled to make out. Whoever the buyer was, they would get to bring her home by the end of the night. Aria could only hope they weren't brandishing weapons and barred windows. Would she be so lucky to find herself a way out of this dungeon?

  Aria heard the lock of the door click and she backed up, not wanting anyone to know what she'd been doing.

  A red-haired woman with scraggly short hair opened the door and stood at the entrance to their room. She didn't take a single step inside. Was she worried they'd hold her hostage? With what, a zipper from a sleeping bag?

  "Emerald. Come with me."

  So much for knowing Aria's name around here.

  She didn't move quick enough to the woman's liking. The woman grabbed Aria's arm dragging the emerald from one room to the next, situated across the hall. "Sit." She commanded. She was twice Aria's size and had a few inches on her.

  The moment Aria didn't listen, a man covered in tattoos stepped into the room, a giant gun slung across his arms. "Need help?" he asked.

  Aria swallowed her nerves and took a seat in the chair. In front of her sat a vanity with an antique mirror. Just about all furniture that existed today was an antique. A few merchants carved tables and chairs from wood, but they tended to sell exclusively to the palace or other wealthy families. Aria didn't get the feeling that this place was worth much, except for the merchandise they hold: the girls.

  Through the mirror, Aria could see that the window shades were open. They too were barred, but more light peeked into the room. The tattooed man covered in ink from his arms, up his neck and even over his bald head paced glanced in the room every so often.

  "We're going to make you beautiful for the auction. A real prized treasure, Emerald."

  "It's Aria," I said, correcting her.

  The man with the tattoo's grunted under his breath and stalked into another room, bored.

  "Of course it is," she said and pulled out a curling iron. "You're going to behave, right?"

  Aria had seen the guns and knew she couldn't outrun a weapon. She'd witnessed the violence of Ethan's murder and would not risk the same fate. She would behave because maybe this would be her ticket out of here. "Yes," Aria said.

  "Good." She plugged the curling iron into the electrical outlet. "We're going to do your hair and makeup after we get you dressed. I've also got a gown for an emerald that will look lovely on you."

  "Please not green." Aria didn't want a single reminder of James. She would never wear the color again.

  "Sorry, doll. It's not up to me. The boys are in charge. I just dress you up for the part they want." She walked over to a long closet and fumbled through the gowns on hangers. She pulled one off the rack and then put it back on, shaking her head.

  Aria waited patiently. It was not as though she ever got a choice in her life. Would that ever change?

  "Got it!" In her hands she held an olive gown with white lace trim around the center. Though short, it cut just above the knee and the waist angled outward. "You'll need a pettiskirt," she said, digging through the dresser.

  Aria stared at the clothes. They looked two sizes too smal
l. The woman waited for her to take the garments. Aria snatched the outfit and headed for the bathroom. The woman didn't argue, perhaps because she wasn't putting up much of a fight. Tired, she slipped into the dress surprised by the fact it fit. The bodice was cinched and hugged her breasts, making them seem larger than they were. She had lost weight since foregoing food.

  "Come sit," she said.

  Aria wandered over to the chair and glanced at the curling iron. "Promise not to burn me?" She had issues with trust, and was not looking forward to intense heat being just inches from her neck and forehead.

  "Emerald, I do this all the time. Now, come sit." She patted the back of the chair.

  Aria sat and stared at the mirrored reflection of herself as the woman curled her hair. There was no hint of a smile on Aria's face. There had been no joy left, no happiness to feel. Each moment grew bleak and every second the darkness came closer.

  Aria shut her eyes. Her dark brown tendrils framed her face as the woman curled her long hair, trying to style it so that Aria would be beautiful. Aria appreciated her attempt, but no one would be looking at her hair.

  "Are you excited about tonight?"

  "No. Why would I be?" Had this woman been doing her job so long she believed she was helping young women? She'd lost her mind if that was the case. Perhaps she was a slave for the tattooed man, and she has no more choice than Aria.

  "It's no secret here that you're a virgin. It's most definitely going to be the night. Are you nervous?"

  "I want to go home."

  "And you will, as soon as you meet your suitor."

  Aria glanced away. She couldn't talk her way out of this situation.

  After the woman finished with Aria's hair she did her makeup and then led Aria through the small corridor out of the house and across the lot. An enclosed walkway of glass with iron bars gave Aria no opportunity to run. With just a glimpse of the outside facility, Aria could tell how much larger this place was. The auction would be held here, no doubt.