This day couldn't get any weirder, Meredith was quite certain of that.
"Come in. You've been expected," the tall sentry said, obviously an Arctics' agent just like Meredith's guards.
They were hard to miss, after all. The blonde hair and blue eyes got sort of repetitive after a while.
Being ushered forward, Meredith was brought into the midst of a large, bubbling party. Everyone around her was dressed as lavishly as she was, if not more so. If anything, Meredith felt a little plain around all of the magnificent dresses, sparkling jewels and men who looked like they not only funded the world, but also controlled it.
She stopped awkwardly in the middle of the first room, while the party seemed to be sprawled out in the huge loft. There had to be several hundred people in attendance. When Meredith's eyes became a little more accustomed to the glamour and the shine, she could see that while the majority of the patrons seemed to be rich guests, there were also plenty of men around who looked like they hurled boulders at passing airplanes, scoring hits more often than not.
The bodyguards, she mused.
One of her guards peeled away, but Meredith didn't dare take a step anywhere, so she opted for staying put. A passing servant handed her a flute of champagne and for the longest moment, Meredith stared at the flimsy crystal glass in her hands as if it were about to sprout horns. It was all just so … ridiculous. A few days ago, she'd been consoling her friend, who'd held her dead baby in her arms, and now she was dressed to the nines at what looked to be the most extravagant party she would ever visit.
As soon as that realization settled, Meredith tossed back the drink and savored the bubbles as they went down her throat. She could have done with something a lot stronger, but captive researchers couldn't be choosers, right?
Busying herself with looking at the view – Abu Dhabi really was magnificent – and occasionally studying the other people around her, Meredith almost forgot that she still didn't know why she'd been brought there. It was when her missing guard returned, nodding to his two companions, that Meredith was brought back into the moment.
"They will be some time. Enjoy yourself at the party," the man said, leaving Meredith to stare at him with her mouth falling open.
They can't be serious.
He and another one of her guards were about to move away from her, leaving her with only one of the stony three to keep an eye on her, when Meredith cleared her voice, speaking up. With a frown, the man returned his attention to her.
"Um, I'm sorry, but who are they?"
"The Research Control Committee," he said automatically, quirking a brow. "They've gone over your work. They have questions."
"Oh," Meredith said, halfway between stunned and relieved. "Okay then. And by 'enjoy' myself, you mean exactly what?"
The grin that passed over his stern, Aryan form was chilling in a way.
"I mean mingle with the other guests. The people here are the sole reason why we're as successful as we are. And I'm sure you're very loyal to the cause, aren't you?"
He didn't wait for an answer, but turned about with a chuckle and headed off deeper into the party. Apparently now that she'd been delivered, they didn't think of her as much of a threat. She couldn't argue with that – a human scientist really didn't have much against men with shotguns and riot gear.
But it was the realization of where she was that really struck her.
Somehow, Meredith Wilder had come from the pits of The Arctics' dungeons, to rubbing shoulders with the biggest donors and supporters of their twisted crowd. And her captors actually expected her to enjoy herself, spending time with people who happily funded the most deranged group of shifter terrorists the planet had to offer.
All she could really do was grab another flute of champagne from a passing tray and pray to God that this day wouldn't get any more fucked up than it already was.
She was halfway through the glass, still standing in place like a stone statue, when her eyes went wide and her heart plummeted into the pit of her stomach. The tall, wiry but proud form of a man with salt and pepper hair seemed to appear out of nowhere in the crowd, people parting before him as if he were splitting the seas with his steps. The worst part of it was that Meredith was sure that none of the people around him were even aware that they were doing it – they simply felt the sudden urge to recoil from him, to get out of his touch.
The wolfish grin he wore on his lips only strengthened Meredith's own need to put distance between him and her.
She knew that man. She knew him far too well, even though she had no idea what his name was.
"Meredith! What a pleasure. I see you've been brought to see the sunlight," he said, having made a beeline for her.
He shared a nod with her bodyguard and the man took a step back, giving them space. Every fiber in Meredith's body wanted to back away, maybe even turn around and run, but she made herself stay still. Her fingers were clutching the flute of champagne so tightly she was sure it would shatter into a million pieces in her hand.
"I have," she finally said, forcing calm into her voice that was certainly not there in her form.
"I trust you're enjoying the festivities," he said, taking a sip of what looked to be vodka.
It was a statement, not a question. From the few words she'd shared with the man in her time, she knew that he had a penchant for those. But she imagined that came with the territory – a man who fancied himself to control everything he could see did not need to exhibit any mock coyness.
"Tell me, how is Maria?" he asked.
His voice was smooth as honey. It was pleasant to listen to, or it would have been, if Meredith hadn't been paralyzed by the memories of the last time she'd seen him.
Only an hour after Maria had been delivered to their cell, the door had opened again and two guards had walked in, with one of them carrying a little bundle in his arms. Almost gently, they gave it to Maria, still weeping on the floor. When she accepted it with shaking hands, everyone in the room could see that the little form in her arms was the still, lifeless body of her child.
A moment later, this demon of a man, standing before Meredith now, had stepped into the room. His eyes, bottomless chestnuts, had glinted with amusement as he watched Maria launch into another fit of heaving sobs, cradling the bundle against her chest while Sya held her by the shoulders.
"May this serve as a reminder to all of you," he had said, his narrow chin held high, protecting an air of superiority and possession all about him. "You are here because of what you can do. We afford you luxuries that you do not inherently deserve – your life, the lives of your loved ones. If you fail, you will pay the price. Or they will. Don't disappoint me again."
The words had echoed in Meredith's ears ever since then, haunting her in her dreams. He was the epitome of all that was evil about The Arctics – all the cruelty, the heartlessness and the glee of seeing others being broken to pieces underneath their heels. And now he was carrying on what seemed like the most pleasant of conversations with Meredith, grinning like they were old friends.
"I don't think I need to tell you how she is," Meredith pressed out from between clenched teeth.
A big part of her wanted to break the glass into a million tiny pieces against his smug, arrogant face, but she kept herself back. If she did that, it was almost certain she'd never see Dean again. Never get to hold him, or only get him back the same way Maria did. That thought was all she needed to keep from lashing out. She couldn't do anything to harm her child, to harm Dice's child.
"Suit yourself," he said with the lightest of shrugs, seeming almost disappointed that Meredith was not willing to amuse him with some feminine bout of hysteria. "Please enjoy yourself, hmm? The band is lovely and the hors d'oeuvres are to die for."
He gave her a disarming smile and bowed in a way that was almost genuine, before slinking off into the crowd, parting before him and then closing behind him, as if controlled by some unseen force. Meredith shuddered, kicking back the rest of her drink.
She blinked away tears from her eyes, willing them to not come forth, and her skin was pimpled with goose bumps. Sharing a moment with that man was like staring into the eyes of the devil.
But when she spotted a familiar set of gray and hazel eyes across the room, Meredith knew that this was only the beginning. Things were about to go from bad to worse.