Blind Auction

“Why would the client want to meet me?” Amy asked, panic stabbing like shards of glass in her chest. The modicum of calm Amy developed in Mrs. Vanilla’s care shattered before this new surprise. All her worries and concerns surged to the forefront of her mind, now centered around the image of The Devil. Obsession. Oppression. Dependency. Her hands shook. Too much. Too much!

“Amy, dear?” Mrs. Vanilla circled the table, her brow tented in concern at Amy’s sudden pallor, and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder that, thanks to the blanket, didn’t make Amy’s skin scream and crawl that much.

“Hey, hey, hey kid.” Vector waved his hands, trying to break into Amy’s spiraling thoughts. “Take a breath.” Amy honestly tried, but the air entered in shuddering sips as her muscles refused to settle. “Nothing has happened yet.” He assured her.

Amy gripped the warm mug and took a slow sip of tea as she schooled her emotions. I am not my fear. I am not my impulses. “I’m okay.” She declared as Amy felt herself still. “I’m sorry. I’ve had a pretty crazy last few days.” I know this panic is unhelpful.

Mrs. Vanilla gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I know, honey, I know. I’m going to get started on some muffins for my temple’s harvest service, but you holler and I’ll be right back faster than two shakes of a lamb’s tail.” Amy smiled. The motherly rabbit retreated to the kitchen counter and began taking out baking ingredients.

“This is why I wanted to talk with you about this, okay?” Vector’s gaze slowly painted Amy and she steeled herself against her sudden desire to flee from his scrutiny. “I ain’t gonna tell nobody nuthin’ about you, Amy, unless you’re cool with it, capisce?” His brows rose until Amy gave a weak nod. “Besides, it might not be what you’re thinking.”

My actions are deliberate. Still working to stuff down her roiling feelings and bolstered a little by Vector’s protective declaration, Amy asked, “What do you mean?”

The crocodile leaned back, slinging an arm over the back of his kitchen chair. “This is a separate job from the jackal tail. Same client, a new request. They asked me to locate you and present the invitation for a personal meeting with an individual interested in making your acquaintance.” He recited clinically, as if presenting testimony before a jury. “As far as I can tell, it’s purely a coincidence.”

Amy’s brow pinched. “But that’s just ridiculous, right? How could they not know I work for you?” Her stomach clenched as her mind provided a slew of possible scenarios, many of which were ludicrously fanciful and terrifying. “Unless they do and-“

“Look.” Vector cut her off, deftly snipping her catastrophic ideation in the bud. “I don’t advertise the identity of my freelancers. In fact, I tend to guard their identities pretty closely.”

As her thoughts of doom faded, Amy felt warmth returning to her chest. Vector had been looking out for her in ways she hadn’t even thought of. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, kid.” Vector waved his hand dismissively. “Being loose with the details of my vendor network is not only a shitty thing to do, but also very bad practice. A very high percentage of the targets of my investigations are not too pleased to have anyone getting up into their personal business. They can toss bricks through my window all they want, but I catch wind of similar happening to you and I’ll never hear the end of it from Vanilla.”

“Of that you can be sure, dear.” Mrs. Vanilla confirmed over her shoulder as she turned the crank on an aged and dented, steel flour sifter.

“Ah, yes, well.” Vector flushed a bit. “Anyways, what I’m saying is that there is a very real chance that this is a pure coincidence. But, if that’s true,” He leveled his shrewd gaze on her once more, “I’m concerned about what sort of trouble you might have gotten yourself wrapped up in, Amy.”

She placed her empty mug on the table, not meeting Vector’s eyes. Should Amy tell them about Shadow? Or Rouge and Geoffrey? Should she really burden them with her problems, especially problems they couldn’t possibly help her with? Amy entwined her fingers and worried at the seam running along her thumb.

Vector sighed. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, obviously, but if there is anything I can do to help you Amy, please ask me. This old croc’ll surprise you.”

The seam was wearing out, and the fine hairs of Amy’s hands were starting to poke through. All her pairs of gloves were old and worn. She needed to set aside some time to repair them all. That might be relaxing, actually. It was harder for her mind and instincts to run wild when she was concentrating on threading a needle.

Amy looked up at Vector. “Who is the client?”

“That’s the thing.” The detective shrugged. “I don’t know who’ll turn up to the meeting. The guy who is my contact point with the client was really cagey about it, but they insist the reasons are friendly and…,” He grimaced, raising his hands to make air quotes, “’benign.’”

Amy frowned at the uncommon phrasing. “They want me to agree to meet and won’t give me any idea who it is I’d be meeting with?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said, but the guy refused to give a name. Made all sorts of useless assurances of this and that. I will admit I’m very curious who is really making these requests as well.”

“You still don’t know who hired you?” Amy regretted her phrasing immediately.

“That’s right, I don’t.” Vector admitted, his words clipping with a chagrined tone. “Amy, remember at the start of this where I was digging and then stopped? It’s ‘cause I got three layers deep into foreign based shell companies trying to find out who is really signing my checks.” He leaned forward in his seat – the height difference between them contributing to what Amy’s fearful brain interpreted as – looming over her.

“Do you have any idea the amount of money it takes to pull something like that off?” Vector continued. “The lawyer fees alone to just setting up something like that were probably more than you and I will make in our lifetimes combined. People who want privacy that badly do not give a fuck about the legality of what they do to get it.”

The hairs on the back of Amy’s neck rose as she got the impression of something massive casting a long shadow over her, its hungry eyes always out of her sight. The feeling was analogue to when she gaggled Shadow. There wasn’t much online about him, but what there was built an intimidating goliath in her mind. However, his face on the construct seemed to lessen the intensity of it. As with most of her fears, thoughts of Shadow assuaged them nearly into nonexistence.

For this new shadowy force, though, Amy had no point of reference. Vast, unknown territory looking to lay its eyes on her. She could not even see the tip of the iceberg let alone the vast mass dwelling below the surface.

She shuddered. “Why would someone like that want to talk to me?”

They couldn’t be Shadow, right? He had her phone number and could call her if he wanted to talk to her.

Was this more intimidation by Geoffrey? But his family had been middle class like hers…maybe he was wealthy now?

But, then, how did Liam fit into the mix? Maybe Vector’s job to track the ex-con wasn’t directly involved, but with the new job being from the same client, her friend still had to be some sort of clue to the identity of said mysterious client. Right?

Amy was quickly developing a headache as her thoughts galloped around in circles like a herd of wild horses. Too much. She couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t the world just stop for one day, one hour, one minute even and just give her a break?

“I don’t know, Amy. If you have any notion, it could prove to be a clue. Are you sure there isn’t any reason you can think of that someone that powerful would want to talk to you?”

Amy swallowed. “No.” She lied.

Vector narrowed his eyes and then sighed. “You are a god-awful liar, Amy.” He chuckled, draining some of the tension of the conversation away. “Remind me never to give you undercover work.” Mrs. Vanilla clucked her tongue as she wrestled with her stand mixer.

Amy’s face flushed. Was she really that easy to read? Sonic never seemed to challenge her and Shadow seemed…uninterested in doing so. Then again, Vector was a detective. He was probably better at detecting falsehoods than your average person. Amy could delude herself into thinking she was fooling everyone for a little while longer.

“Alright. I can respect that you don’t want to tell me, but keep in mind being out of the loop limits how well I can help or protect you.” He leveled his gaze at her and pressed for an answer. “So, what’ll it be?”

Amy’s mind buzzed. She should just decline. Every scenario that reared it head seemed to end negatively. Anyone involved with Shadow or with Geoffrey couldn’t possibly see her as anything other than an inconvenience or toy to be played with.

Wait. Amy’s brow scrunched. There was another involved party to think about. “Did you ever find out who had helped Liam get out of jail?”

Vector huffed at her avoidance, but allowed it anyway. His snout wrinkled, pulling his lips back to reveal his many jagged teeth. “Yeah, unfortunately I did. They didn’t hide their identity nearly as deeply, almost as if they wanted to be connected with Liam Null’s release. There were a few intermediary companies and law firms, but the spring job was done at the expense of the Robotnik family.”

The name was vaguely familiar to Amy, but when she didn’t express any clear understanding, Vector continued. “They’re big swinging dicks out of Petrovia. Old, old money that survived a few revolutions so you know their tendrils are deep into that country. Why they give a shit about this jackal? Hell if I know, but if I had to guess, probably something to do with his Black Arms days.”

“Black Arms?” She didn’t recognize the name, but dots were starting to connect. Things Liam had said and how he acted. Even though he entered prison at a young age, he been something before he was a convict. Something dangerous.

“It’s a paramilitary contractor – Sorry, private security – firm.” Vector’s lip curled with derision. “Basically, goons for hire, but the real nasty kind that will go into a country and do whatever they’re paid to do, wetwork included.”

“Wetwork?” A knot was forming in her stomach. Part of her wanted to tell Vector to stop talking, that she didn’t want to know.

Vector lifted his hand and pointed his forefinger at his temple, thumb raised, and pantomimed the kickback of a firearm. Amy’s breath hitched and she shrank back. She felt a cold sweat break out all over her body. The knot cinched in her gut.

Frowning sympathetically, Vector sighed. “I told you he was bad news, Amy. I didn’t know just how bad initially, but I hope you’ve been keeping your distance.

She’d known on some vague level based on how he talked, but this was direct. Undeniable. Liam had been a mercenary. Liam had been a murderer for hire. I had known this, she chided herself. Not the specifics exactly, but there was enough evidence that Amy could reasonably conclude that Liam had killed people before.

At twenty-two.

Amy looked down into her lap. “For how long?”

“What? Why do you care?” Vector raised a brow, but when she didn’t retract the inquiry, he answered, “Details are hard to find on this sort of thing because no body wants to be held responsible for any of it, but I’d say probably five or so years.”

Liam had been a child. Was…was she looking for excuses for him because he was her friend? Was he her friend? Could she be friends with someone with that kind of past? Amy focused on her breathing while her thoughts spiraled.

“It’s going to be alright, dear.” Mrs. Vanilla wiped her gloves on her apron. “You don’t have to be near that man anymore.”

“Besides, I don’t think the person looking to meet with you is on the Robotnik side of this equation.” Vector explained. “The shit I had to dig through on either side of Null’s case were different flavors.”

“Gross, honey.” Mrs. Vanilla shook her head as she greased a muffin tin.

“What? Oh, shit, sorry. What I mean is why make it hard to find out who’s hired me, but make it really easy to figure out who paid for Null’s legal escape? It wouldn’t make any sense.” He shrugged. “Sure, stranger things have happened, but I don’t think it’s likely.”

Amy looked between Vector and Mrs. Vanilla. The way they looked at her reminded Amy of her parents, so many years ago, when her second sex first developed. Eager to help, highly sympathetic, but ultimately wholly inadequate. Amy had to walk this path alone, albeit with a cheering section.

Vector shifted in his seat. “I know this is a lot and, if you don’t want to be found, then I won’t find you.” He gestured at Amy. “That’s all there is to it. I’ll fuck around a bit, accrue some hours, then throw up my hands and claim I tried.

“But,” He emphasized, “that’s likely to not be the end of it. People with this kind of money don’t like being told something can’t be done. They’ll just hire the next bloke and then the next until they get what they want: you.”

Amy couldn’t get the picture of the Devil out of her head. Rouge was right, someone was going to find and expose her to the light, laying her bare for all the world to see. She could run. Pack a bag tonight and get a train ticket to…somewhere.

But running wouldn’t stop any of this and she wasn’t the only one getting pulled into the spotlight. Soon Sonic would be snared for the crime of protecting Amy and her family would be drawn in, too. She couldn’t leave them to take the scouring scrutiny in her stead.

Running. Lying. Those were not solutions. They solved nothing, only buried her problems leaving them to quicken in the dark and grow larger and more dastardly.

What was one more step into the unknown? She’d already be thrown far away from any solid ground she knew. Who knows? Maybe this person was a friend? She could dream, if just for a little while.

“I’ll do it. I’ll meet with the client.”

Vector nodded. “I’ll send you the details. I suggest not mentioning your involvement with the Null tail if I were you. If it comes up, it’s up to you if you wanna answer truthfully, but if it don’t, just let sleeping dogs lie.”

The comforting scent of cinnamon filled the kitchen. Amy drew in a deep breath, willing herself to be comforted, to accept the peace and support on offer. She would get through this and past The Devil to the Ten of Cups on the other side.

---

Arriving home, Amy found a large drawstring sack sitting against the door of her apartment. Looking inside, she found all of her sheets and blankets, perfectly clean, neatly pressed, and expertly folded, just like Shadow had promised. She counted her blessing that she had arrived home before Sonic. Who knows what conclusions he would jump to if he saw it. Amy drug the bag inside.

She’d already made her bed with the new sheets Shadow had gifted her after he’d left that morning. Amy had decided to tell Sonic that she’d bought them for herself to celebrate her promotion to full-time work, if he happened to notice the new articles. Which he likely wouldn’t, Amy internally grumbled, given how she, who had more control over her daily schedule, handled the laundry for the household.

Amy replaced all the sheets and blankets she’d taken to assemble her nest back in their normal places. Beta’s didn’t have near as sensitive noses as Alpha’s and Omega’s, but she sprayed her room, the bathroom, and the living space with deodorizer anyway. New sheets were one thing, but the smell of another man in the house would be a lot harder to lie her way out of.

No, it would be easy, her brain supplied quickly. She would just tell him Barry had been over. Sonic had been with Silver, so why couldn’t Amy be with Barry? See, easy?

She cringed at how readily the narrative assembled itself in her mind. How long would she lie to Sonic about who she was seeing? The longer she waited to come clean, the worst Sonic would feel at the betrayal of trust. Amy wasn’t doing herself any favors. But confessing to something so complicated was daunting and finding the time to do it…?

Amy distracted herself by cleaning up the ridiculous mess Shadow left in the kitchen sink. Seriously, who can’t even make pancakes? They even had premade mix. All you had to do was add water and heat! Must be nice not having to know how to cook.

When she finished, she went to dry her hands and found all the kitchen towels missing from the drawer. Amy frowned. They hadn’t been in the sack of clean laundry. Where could they have gotten to? Did Shadow do something with them? Amy ended up drying her hands on her jeans.

To while away the time until Sonic got home, Amy flopped onto the couch and logged onto the OO forums. She had a message from Orion. He began normally, asking her how she was doing, how her heat cycle was progressing, but then he brought up Geofrey’s press conference.

Have you seen it? Aren’t you excited, Rose? Isn’t this great? You’ll finally have a place where you can be without living under the oppression of the Alphas. St. John really gets it!

Amy reread the message several times. She couldn’t believe it. Orion had always been a little on the fringe, but didn’t he see Geoffrey’s plan for what it was? Sure, he’d coated the idea in nice-sounding rhetoric, but all the Omegas would be forced into an area from which, once the Omega bus was discontinued, they’d hardly be able to leave?

And the claim about Alpha’s not allowed inside. How would that be enforced? Would a wall be built around the special economic zone, further penning the Omegas inside? Her pulse quickened just thinking about it. Even if relocation wasn’t mandated, the discontinuation of services would push any Omega unsupported by an Alpha or their family into the zone, nonetheless. And those who stayed out would be alienated from the Omega community…just like Amy was.

It was a trap, plain and simple. They all be concentrated there in an enclave, out of sight and out of mind, while the rest of society continued on without them.

Amy’s heart pounded as she typed her reply. It was messy and emotional, a typo-laced diatribe against Geoffrey’s plan. Don’t be fooled! This is terrible!

The moment she hit send, she regretted it. She’d never written so passionately in any message she’d sent Orion before. He’d probably think she was in the throes of her heat. Amy frowned as she failed to find a button that would let her unsend the message.

Orion’s reply came quickly. You’re not happy? Why? You’re supposed to be happy! Don’t you see you’ll finally be safe? Then you wouldn’t have to hide anymore and we could finally- Amy’s face contorted in disgust and she navigated away from the message, leaving Orion on read.

Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy.

No, Amy was not happy.

Sour taste in her mouth, she navigated to the forums and found them in turmoil. Every section was infested with heated debate over Geoffrey’s proposal. Those who opposed the special economic zone were accused of supporting the current terrible system and those for it were accused of embracing tyranny. Amy chewed her lip, scrolling through post after post of vitriol and ad hominin attacks with the occasional well-meaning post explaining the stances in a more congenial manner.

The sound of a key sliding into the lock on the front door tore Amy’s attention away from the bedlam. Sonic pushed through the door with a wide, flat box. “Congratulations, Amy!” The radiance of his smile could challenge the sun. “Who’s ready for pizza and epic examples of the cinematic arts?”