Page 20 of King of the Unsightly

My hands trembled as I twisted the door handle, and I let out a shaky breath—one I didn’t know I held in until now.

I pressed my fear down and propelled myself forward with each treacherous step. My options were slim, and if I could end it all by striking a deal then I wouldn’t hesitate any longer.

The cold and damp hallway lights flickered on and off. The heavy vibrations of the music faded gradually until my shallow breathing grew louder, and my betraying heartbeat thumped aggressively against my chest. An eternity had come and gone before a white wooden door emerged with the symbol of a gold and silver crescent moon resting right above eye level.

Muffled voices came from behind the door. An eruption of laughter shot through the stillness, and I flinched and stepped back.

I shook out the tension enveloping my whole body and pressed the fear down again; so far down I was blinded by rage instead.

If I died here, I would at least die with some dignity, or at least try to. Damn my cursed, fickle heart.

The door clicked, and I stepped inside.

The laughter died as I took in my surroundings. The room stunk of cedar, booze, and cigars. And all the walls were painted black except for one mirrored side making the place appear larger. The only furniture occupying the place was a ruby-red leather sofa and a glass coffee table with an ashtray in the center.

A small cloud of smoke from a recently finished cigar began to smother the place.

Two women with long azure-blue hair and matching silver cocktail dresses with clear spiked heels lounged lazily as they sipped on what seemed to be a thick purple wine. My vision landed on a bulky man with raven-black hair, tinting blue each time the revolving lowlights touched him. He sported a white tuxedo and had squished himself between the two ladies, his arms wrapped around their tiny waists.

His bright-red eyes lit up and swirled like a flame as he noticed me. A spine-chilling smirk stretched across his face and gooseflesh rose behind my ears as it kissed my neck.

I escaped his prowling gaze and eyed the group of men occupying a round table with another wooden door behind it. They all lifted their heads and leered at me, unamused I had interrupted their game of poker.

Their soft whispers sent my pulse into overdrive.

The raven-haired man spoke, and it was just as slimy as his appearance. “Ah, Kaschel said someone new might show themselves tonight.” The man stood up, and he was taller than I expected. He smoothed out his tux and flicked his wrist at one of the other guys sitting at the table. One launched from their chair, scurried to the other door, and softly knocked. He must have heard something because he turned back to the raven-haired man and nodded, and the man’s face twisted into somethingtruly wicked. “By all means, walk right through that door and don’t mind us.”

The amount of doors I had to keep walking through to get to the man namedKaschelwas a tad excessive.

I didn’t say a word to the raven-haired man, too afraid he’d take it as an invitation to approach me, and my sanity could only handle one psychopath tonight.

I hurried past them and avoided all nosy looks and swung the other door open and shut it behind me.

“Sit.” The crackling of the fireplace made Kaschel’s alabaster hair stand out and caused his words to sound more ominous as a coppery glow cast throughout the room.

He compelled me to listen, or maybe I felt too jumpy to disobey as my legs dragged me to an empty chestnut-colored wingback chair while he lounged on the other.

My eyes focused on the top curve of Kaschel’s chair and avoided his detached expression, too afraid I would beg like a coward. God, my courage flickered as much as the flame before me.

Where did my conviction go?

I scanned the walls. Nothing but shelves of leather books weathered by years of neglect.

Kaschel tapped the arms of the chair, and my attention darted back to him. I only heard the hissing fireplace and my poor, palpitating heart.

His long alabaster hair fell loose, freed from his ponytail as he leaned back; his chin pointed up, scrutinizing me, and the tie he wore earlier now unwound and exposed his brawny chest.

He appeared more relaxed than I had ever been in my entire life, and for some reason, it ticked me off.

I salvaged what little confidence I had and broke the silence. “I’m here. What’s the deal?” I crossed my arms and attempted to sound irritated, but I probably just looked constipated and in pain. I would have to work on my intimidation tactics.

Kaschel’s face twitched into a half-smirk but quickly went back to a sour expression of disinterest. He leaned forward, only a couple feet away from me. I physically dug my nails into my upper arms, so I didn’t flinch back from the threatening aura naturally oozing off him.

He clicked his tongue in disdain and lowered his chin, ignoring my question. “Where is it?”

In my pocket, but since it was the only leverage I held over him, no way would I tell him that. “Why does it matter? It’s not like you can hold on to it for long.”

My words pinched a nerve in Kaschel, and he launched forward and clutched both sides of my chair.

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