Fang guided Kev to a pair of seats near the front of the auction hall, their proximity to the stage offering an unobstructed view of the proceedings. Talon, ever vigilant, remained standing behind them, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd for any signs of trouble.
As they settled in, Talon discreetly handed Fang a numbered paddle. Fang, with a mischievous grin, passed it to Kev. "Here you go, my dear assistant," he said. "Your weapon for tonight's conquest."
Kev looked at the paddle, a puzzled expression on his face. "I've never been to an auction before," he confessed, his voice a bit hesitant.
Fang chuckled, his amusement evident in his eyes. "Just wave that paddle when there's something you like," he explained. "They'll bring it to you eventually. And don't worry about the price," he added with a wink. "Tonight, the sky's the limit."
"I'll try to keep things reasonable," Kev whispered to Fang.
A hush fell over the room as a bullman, his voice a deep, resonant bellow, stepped onto the stage. "Welcome, distinguished guests," he announced, his presence commanding attention. "Tonight, we have a truly exceptional collection of rare oddities and ancient masterpieces. Prepare to be amazed, to be enchanted, to be tempted beyond your wildest dreams. So, let's get started!"
A hush fell over the crowd as a velvet-draped cart was wheeled onto the stage. The bullman pulled back the cloth with a flourish, revealing a large canvas bathed in a soft spotlight.
"Behold," he proclaimed, his voice filled with reverence, "a Hosterman original from his coveted 'Green Sky' period. A masterpiece of color and texture, a testament to the artist's unparalleled vision."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the eager faces in the audience. "Bidding will start at eight-hundred thousand," he announced, his voice echoing through the hall. "Do we have any takers?"
Paddles shot up around the room, a flurry of eager bids driving the price higher and higher. Kev, his jaw agape, watched in disbelief as the numbers climbed, each bid a testament to the immense wealth and insatiable desire of the club's clientele.
The auctioneer's voice rose in excitement, fueling the frenzy. "One million! One million five hundred thousand! Two million!"
Kev's grip on the paddle loosened, his fingers numb with shock. The paddle slipped from his grasp, clattering to the floor with a jarring sound that momentarily broke the spell.
He quickly snatched it back up, his face flushed with embarrassment. He leaned towards Fang, his voice a hushed whisper. "Did you hear how much that was?" he asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Fang's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "I did," he growled softly, his arm tightening around Kev's shoulders. "But don't worry, my dear. They usually save the really good stuff for the second half."
Kev's voice was a mix of awe and disbelief. "The most expensive thing I've ever bought was a used car, and it was the oldest, most scratched-up one on the lot," he confessed, his eyes still wide with shock. "You need to give me a budget. I don't want to bankrupt you."
Fang chuckled, his deep rumble a comforting vibration against Kev's back. He leaned in, his warm breath tickling Kev's ear. "I told you, Kev," he purred, his voice laced with a playful indulgence, "get what you want. Tonight, the sky's the limit."
Kev's brow furrowed in contemplation. He'd been tasked with keeping Fang away from gambling, but wasn't this auction just another form of high-stakes betting? A pang of anxiety gnawed at him. He didn't want to overstep his boundaries, but he also didn't want to see Fang get carried away and make a reckless purchase.
Just as Kev was debating whether to voice his concerns, the next item was unveiled. A hush fell over the crowd as a velvet cloth was lifted, revealing a magnificent sapphire-encrusted urn, its intricate carvings and shimmering gems catching the light with every subtle movement.
The auctioneer's voice, a deep, resonant baritone, filled the room. "Behold, a relic of a bygone era," he proclaimed, his words laced with reverence. "A sapphire-encrusted urn, said to have once belonged to the legendary Queen of the Night. Bidding will start at six-hundred and fifty thousand."
Fang leaned closer to Kev, his voice a low rumble in his ear. "Do you like it?" he asked, his gaze fixed on the exquisite urn.
Kev admired the craftsmanship, the sheer beauty of the piece. But he couldn't shake the feeling that it was far beyond his reach, a treasure meant for a world of unimaginable wealth and luxury.
"It's beautiful," he admitted, his voice a soft whisper, "but I'd be terrified of breaking it."
He leaned into Fang, seeking comfort in his warmth and strength. "Let's just watch," he suggested, his gaze returning to the stage.
The bidding war commenced, paddles flashing in the air as the price climbed steadily higher. Kev's heart pounded in his chest, the sheer extravagance of the scene both exhilarating and overwhelming. He couldn't help but wonder what other treasures awaited them, what secrets would be revealed in this clandestine world of luxury and desire.
The first half of the auction flew by in a blur of dazzling displays and astronomical bids. Kev's eyes watered at the sheer amount of money being tossed around so casually, his mind reeling from the realization of the vast wealth concentrated in this room. It was a world he'd never known existed, a realm of luxury and excess that seemed both alluring and terrifying.
Fang, sensing Kev's growing discomfort, leaned closer and whispered in his ear, "Another drink?"
Kev nodded gratefully, his throat parched from the smoky atmosphere and the sheer intensity of the auction.
"Talon," Fang called out, his voice a low rumble that cut through the hushed conversations, "two more, please."
The eagleman nodded silently and disappeared into the crowd before Kev could request something a bit sweeter this time.
Fang, his gaze sweeping across the room, absently played with Kev's ear, his touch gentle and reassuring. Kev leaned into the touch, a warmth spreading through him despite the lingering sting of the whiskey.
Talon returned with their drinks, placing them on the table with a practiced efficiency. Kev grimaced slightly at the sight of the amber liquid, but he took a sip nonetheless, the burn of the alcohol not all that refreshing.
The auctioneer's voice boomed through the hall once more, signaling the start of the second half. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, his tone filled with a renewed energy, "prepare yourselves for the truly extraordinary. The items in this next half are not simply objects of beauty or historical significance; they are experiences, opportunities, chances to fulfill your wildest dreams."
The crowd leaned forward in anticipation, their eyes gleaming with a mix of greed and excitement. Kev, his curiosity piqued, straightened in his seat, eager to see what wonders awaited them in this second act.
"For our next item," the bullman's voice boomed, a theatrical pause heightening the anticipation, "we have a real treat for the discerning collector."
With a dramatic flourish, he unveiled a magnificent sword, its hilt and scabbard adorned with intricate gold and silver filigree. The blade itself, forged from a dark, shimmering metal, seemed to hum with an ancient power.
"This, ladies and gentlemen," the bullman declared, his voice filled with reverence, "is an artifact of unparalleled beauty and historical significance. A blade forged in the fires of a forgotten era, imbued with the essence of legendary warriors."
He lifted the sword, its weight surprisingly light in his massive hand. "This ancient weapon was crafted before the days of blade tracking, folks," he continued, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "And it's still as sharp as the day it was forged."
To demonstrate, he effortlessly sliced through a sheet of paper held aloft by an assistant, the blade cleaving through it with a whisper-quiet precision. A collective gasp echoed through the room, the audience captivated by the display of power and craftsmanship.
"Bidding will start at two and a half million," the bullman announced, his voice booming through the hall.
Fang's tail wagged excitedly, his eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger. He leaned closer to Kev, his voice a low rumble. "I heard you wanted a blade, Kev," he purred. "What do you think of this one?"
Kev, remembering the unsettling encounter with Vlad, shook his head. "I've figured out a way around needing one," he replied, his voice soft but firm. He leaned into Fang, his head resting on the wolfman's shoulder. "And besides, I have you to protect me," he whispered, remembering Lanon's teasing words from earlier.
Fang's tail wagged even more vigorously, his chest swelling with pride. "Damn right you do," he growled, his voice filled with a possessive tenderness.
The bidding war for the ancient sword reached a fever pitch, the price climbing steadily higher with each frantic raise of a paddle. Finally, the gavel fell, and the sword was sold for a staggering five million dollars, a testament to the deep pockets and insatiable desires of the club's clientele.
The next item, unveiled with a flourish, was a beautifully crafted player piano, its polished wood gleaming under the spotlight. Kev's eyes lit up at the sight of the instrument, his fingers itching to touch the keys.
The bullman, his voice booming through the hall, described the piano's unique features. "This magnificent instrument," he proclaimed, "is a marvel of engineering, capable of playing a wide variety of melodies without the need for a human performer. It comes with several different music scrolls, each one containing a carefully curated selection of tunes to suit any mood or occasion."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the eager faces in the audience. "Bidding will start at 800,000," he announced.
Kev turned to Fang, his excitement bubbling over. "What do you think?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
Fang shrugged, a nonchalant expression on his face. "If you want to hear music, you can always ask Asmodeus," he replied.
"But it would be nice for my apartment," Kev persisted, his voice soft but determined. "I could have some background noise during the day, something to break the silence."
Fang's expression softened as he looked at Kev, his heart melting at the human's enthusiasm. He reached across the table and took Kev's hand, raising the paddle with a confident smile.
The bull man's eyes flicked to the raised paddle, then down to his list of registered bidders. A wide smile spread across his face. "The first bid from… Mr. Fang!" he announced, his voice booming through the hall.
The room fell silent, the other patrons seemingly stunned by Fang's immediate and decisive bid. Kev's heart pounded in his chest as he looked around, his gaze sweeping across the sea of faces. No one else raised a paddle, no one dared to challenge Fang's claim on the piano.
The auctioneer, sensing the finality of the moment, raised his gavel. "Going once," he declared, his voice echoing through the hushed hall. "Going twice... Sold!"
The gavel slammed down, its sound a final punctuation to the transaction. Kev couldn't believe it. He was now the owner of a piano player, a luxurious addition to his already impressive apartment. He turned to Fang, his eyes wide with gratitude.
"Thank you, Fang," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of joy and disbelief.
Fang merely smiled, squeezing Kev's hand reassuringly. "Anything for you, my dear assistant," he purred, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down Kev's spine.
The auction continued, a parade of exotic items and extravagant experiences passing before Kev's eyes. There were rare gemstones, ancient artifacts, even a private concert with Asmodeus himself. But nothing quite captured Kev's interest like the player piano had. He was content to simply observe, his hand resting comfortably in Fang's, enjoying the spectacle and the thrill of being a part of this exclusive world.
Finally, the auctioneer's voice boomed through the hall once more, signaling the final item of the night. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, his tone filled with a dramatic flair, "I hope you've saved some money for this one, because it's a truly unique opportunity."
With a flourish, he pulled back a curtain, revealing a figure bound and gagged on a platform. The man's head was covered by a black cloth blindfold, his wrists and ankles shackled with heavy chains. Large tufts of fur had been shaved away, leaving his bruised arms and legs visible to the crowd. Kev gasped as he recognized the familiar silhouette. It was Pedro, the llama man from the pool hall.