Page 13 of Fixation of the Mind

She shrugged, and the men behind her moved into a fighting position. “Rules are rules, Ambros. You would think you learned that already.” She motioned with her chin, and the two guards stepped toward us.

Rion let go of my arm and pushed me behind him. His chin jutted out as he loudly and confidently staked his claim. “This woman is my externus. You will not touch her.”

Peeking over his shoulder, I could see her lips purse. I guessed he was right about them having some rules that even the top dogs needed to follow.

The two thugs coming our way turned to look at her. She nodded as she called out, “That will be discussed at another time. You do have my word that we are not going to harm her. She will come back unscathed.”

Rion backed up a step, taking a wider stance as he cracked his knuckles, watching the two guards advance. “That's not good enough.”

One guard lunged for him, but he dodged his attack while blocking the other's with his forearm. He did a spinning kick, taking down one of the guys with a thud while the other got to his feet and went for Rion’s legs.

I wanted to help him, fight with him, let him know that he wasn’t doing this alone. Even if we were currently arguing with each other, I had faith in him to keep me safe.

Going to his side, I waited for a moment where I could pop in and help, but it was too late. We had focused on the wrong threat. In the blink of an eye, he gasped, then his whole body seized up.

He growled at Mrs. Ricci, all of his anger shown on his face as he yanked a long, thin needle from the side of his neck. He crashed to his knees, still glaring up at her while I had my hands hovering over him, at a loss as to how I could help him.

The clicking of her stilettos came closer, but I couldn't take my eyes off him. His breathing came out in a hiss, his skin growing pale as the veins in his arms popped out. I swung my head toward her and spat, “What did you do to him?”

She crouched down, her eyes never leaving his. “I’m mildly impressed you have kept conscious this long.” She raised her hand at him, and my body moved into action before my mind caught up. I smacked her hand away, needing her to know that she wasn’t allowed to touch him in my presence.

Her lips quivered, eyes bouncing between the two of us as he took another ragged breath. After a moment, she chose to focus on him, eyes hard. “I do not make empty threats or promises, boy. She will not be harmed, but this is something we need to do.”

She got up, a hand extended toward me. “Come. The sooner we get this done, the sooner all of this will be figured out.”

I noticed that she didn’t promise I would be able to leave with him, or that I would be leaving this place at all, but the look in her eyes was dark and unyielding. My insides were telling me not to go, to stay with Rion, but given the position we were now in, the only thing that made sense was to go with her. I needed to find out what these people wanted from me. At the very least, she had promised I wouldn't die.

Her jaw tightened as I thought about what to do. I could tell she was at the end of her patience, and I wouldn't put it past her to force me to come with her, especially with Rion in the state he was in.

Making my decision, I grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze with a tight smile. “I’ll see you soon.” He grunted at my words, throwing his body forward, his eyes looking up at me, pleading with me to stay with him, to not leave his sight.

Her sharp, clipped tone echoed through the metal hallway. “Let’s go, Miss Smith.”

Straightening my shoulders, I took a step back to follow her, silently telling him that I was going to survive and not to worry. He let out another pained moan, but I closed my eyes and turned away. I didn't have the time or luxury to keep this going. If these people were higher up in the hierarchy than the Ambros boys, then I needed to face them with my head up high even though my bones quaked with uncertainty.

The click of the door closing behind me shook me. My last defense was on the other side of the door, so it was only me now.

“Don’t worry. He’ll be fine. The sedative should’ve knocked him out, but he’s being stubborn.” The flippant humor in her tone spoke to the nature of casual violence, pain, and death in this group. I needed to match that energy if I was going to survive.

She guided me through a long corridor with high ceilings and sparse black furniture placed along the left wall. What was really impressive about this space was the right side. There were rows and rows of massive screens that looked like windows showing off different cities around the world.

One of them had an aerial shot of what looked like a tall glass tower with a city around it. In the bottom left hand corner, it said, “Shanghai, China.” She kept an impressively brisk pace for being in heels, so I had to read the bottoms as fast as I could. Moscow, Rome, Tokyo, Stockholm, Madrid. The screens went on and on.

“We like to keep a pulse on what's going on in the major cities at all times. It's always best to have eyes and ears everywhere.” Her smile was well crafted, trying to put me at ease, to get me to trust her, but I'd seen con artists throughout my life. I wasn’t so easily fooled.

“What do you want from me?” I chose to take the honest route, like Rion had instructed, to see where it took me. I highly doubted I would get a real answer, but when her smile wavered, then finally fell with a sigh, I was intrigued.

She motioned for us to keep walking as we were almost to the end of the room where a set of double doors waited before us. “It depends.”

“Depends?”

Her eyes slid to mine, reminding me of a snake resting in the grass before it struck. We got to the doors, and with her hand on the door handle, she turned to me. “Yes. It depends on who you really are.”

She pushed the doors open and quickly walked through them into a large circular room. I was left wide mouthed due to not only the room, but her answer, which made me even more confused as to what they wanted from me. I was just Layrin Smith, the orphan from a small town in Virginia. What could they possibly want from me?

I watched her go to the left side and climb up a set of stairs to a circular row of seating that surrounded the ground-level platform. Five people were already waiting on the upper level, looking down at me, their faces concealed by the darkness. It reminded me of those old-timey cartoons where someone was sent to Hell. The Devil was always seated way up high while someone awaited their sentence down below, loomed over by their judge, jury, and executioner.

This set-up was made to make you seem small and insignificant, but the joke was on them. I already felt that way on a daily basis.

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