Page 7 of Visionary

“What?!” I asked, covering my mouth, trying to muffle my voice. “Vea, that’s not possible. This place is locked the fuck down.”

“Figure it out, Aiden. I trust you.” She hung up the phone.

“Oh, my god,” I said, putting my hands on my knees and taking deep, steadying breaths.

Standing up straight, I composed myself and set off into the crowd to find Milo. A cloud of pulsing auras flooded my vision as I walked toward Milo. When he turned my way, his stoic demeanor shifted. His aura shifted to green, and the concerned energy he radiated pulsed toward me, getting stronger and stronger as he walked in my direction.

“Aiden, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Milo’s hand lay firmly on my shoulder.

Shifting my gaze to Milo's face, I whispered, “The Senketsu is here.”

Milo’s eyes widened as I began filling him in.

8

SEVERN

“They’re asking questions and wondering about the paintings. At least let me go talk to them.” Trying my best to walk by, Tirah stopped me.

“Ceril said you speak to no one, Severn. Is that so hard for you to fucking comprehend? You really are as idiotic as he says you are, aren’t you.” Tirah sat down on a bench that was on the stage. It sat just to the side in the dark where the beings couldn’t see us. “How do you plan to explain to them how you know all the information about the art? You can’t just come out and say you did it. You’d start a turf war in Noirhaven. If the wrong person sees you, it’s over. I can’t believe he’s managed to keep you a secret all this time.” Tirah leaned back on the bench, examining her long, expertly polished white fingernails.

Huffing, I crossed my arms and looked out onto the stage at the beings admiring my art. One male I recognized from some of the in-person black market sales. He was always dressed nicely in dark colors. The tattoos on his fair skin were a stark contrast that made his appearance striking and difficult to turn away from. He always studied my art closely, and he always left the sales with each piece that was for sale. Ceril and I frequently stood in a back room or watched the sales over a live feed.

Glancing over at Tirah, she had pulled out her phone and was furiously typing out a message. With light steps, I began moving toward the main part of the stage. Giant white wings burst open in front of me before I got too far away from Tirah.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Ceril’s low, booming voice funneled toward me. Tirah scrambled to stand to my left, nearly falling over on her high heels.

“You’re never going to let me claim these as my own, are you?” Throwing my hands up in frustration, I tried to walk by, but Tirah grabbed my arm. Quickly, with as much force as possible, I ripped my arm from her grasp. The motion pulled on my scars, but I ignored it.

Ceril directed his attention to the blue-haired angel, his wings shifting slightly with his focus. “Tirah, out. Now. Fucking worthless.” Ceril mumbled the last two words as he moved a wing out of the way and Tirah shuffled by, exiting onto the stage. “Are you asking for death?” Ceril leaned down to me, his wings forming an umbrella-like cover over my head as his other four wings circled my body, guiding me closer to him. Ceril tilted his head to the side and raised his manicured eyebrows. “Well?”

“Maybe I am.” My reply was honest, which Ceril didn’t like. He pulled his wings back in tightly against his frame. I shoved at him, but Ceril pushed me harder against a metal pole. The scars on my back immediately started to throb, and I arched back in pain, trying to do anything to soothe it. Ceril’s tight grip was around my neck in seconds, and he began dragging me down the stairs and toward the rooms behind the stage.

Ceril turned doorknobs until he found one that was unlocked. The room was completely dark; if there was anything inside, I had no idea.

Finally, Ceril released my neck and pushed me into the room. My back still aching.

“Make a fucking sound, and that’s it.” Ceril slammed the door to the small closet, and I fell to the ground.

My ears began to ring, and it took all of my willpower not to scream at the top of my lungs.

9

AIDEN

As I maneuvered through the crowd to get to Milo, my phone buzzed in my hand. When I looked at the screen, I saw a message from Vea.

Vea

I don’t even care about the art anymore, Aiden. I want him.

Shit. Okay, she was serious. Quickly tapping reply, I composed my message back.

Me

We will do whatever it takes.

Vea