“He’s always like this,” Fae noted. “It could be three in the afternoon, he’d still be this unpleasant.”
“Ms. Montgomery, please be silent.” Conor’s jaw clenched. “I know it’s a constant struggle for you, but I’d appreciate any effort.”
Fae rolled her eyes and sighed.
“I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, Ms. Ki—” He broke off when he saw my chastising look. “Lux,” he amended. “It’s just very important that you think really hard—”
“Conor, I’m going to stop you right there, before you dig yourself into an even deeper hole.” I met his eyes with a serious look. “I can sense that this is important to you. But you don’t seem to realize how important it is to me as well.”
He opened his mouth to speak but I plowed onward.
“I’m not some dumb blonde who stumbled across this mess and thoughtHey! That sounds like a neat story to investigate!I’m not doing this for fun, or for fame, or for whatever reason you’ve thought up.” I touched the silver cuff I’d forgotten to remove from my wrist when I fell into bed earlier. “A friend of mine is missing. This isn’t a game to me.”
“I’m sorry,” Conor said, his eyes softening a little.
“Downstairs,Labyrinthis everything it promises to be — a sanctuary for blue-bloods. Tea parlors, cigar rooms, and the like, but nothing of interest to you.” I took a deep breath and tried to prepare myself. “Most of the people down there probably have no idea what’s going on upstairs.”
“Upstairs?”
“It’s an auction,” I told him, feeling the crushing sadness return to lay against my chest like a heavy weight, as though someone had spliced open my ribs and poured a batch of concrete inside.
His browsrose. “Excuse me?”
“They’re auctioning off the immigrant girls to the highest bidder. There’s a room, on the top floor. Ten private betting booths, facing a small round platform with a track of spotlights overhead to illuminate the space.” I swallowed roughly. “There are chains attached to the stage — ankle bindings, so the girls can’t run.”
I heard Fae gasp. Conor’s reaction was more subdued — he released a low expletive under his breath, and the skin around his eyes tightened with tension. “Could you describe it for a sketch artist? We could replicate the space…”
“No need.” I stared at him for a weighty moment. “We have pictures.”