Trigger.

~*~

With a sigh, he looked at me almost tiredly and undid my seatbelt, "Just please for God's sake listen to me when I tell you what to do inside there."

"Absolutely!" I smiled and got out of the vehicle.

The place was cold, dark, and smoky. Of course, it was from the heavy smokers that loitered around. I walked closely next to Sinister as he instructed and followed him to the receptionist. Now that I looked around the place a bit more, it seemed like a five-story motel. Although, it was quite eerie for my taste. A strange man with the most crooked teeth bedazzled with silver and gold grinned at me as he walked past us and I grabbed Sinister's hand unconsciously. A few seconds passed and Salvatore shrugged away from my contact.

"Don't do that here, Grey. People will think I've gone soft. The last thing I need is that reputation." He stated, his voice filled with irritation.

Upon arriving at the receptionist, Sinister frowned. "Archer. Where is he?"

"I believe Mr. Devereux had stepped out for some business." The woman who looked like a ragged doll replied yet her voice upheld so much professionalism. It was like an odd aftertaste.

"What about Marc?"

"Top floor. He brought in some fine ladies."

Hearing that, my stomach fell to the floor. Fine ladies.

Rebecca.

"Don't tell him I'm here. I like to make my visits disclosed sometimes."

"As you wish, Mr. Sinister. Would you also like me to fix a room for you and the lady?"

"No. I'm not here for that tonight. Besides, she's not my type." He stated and looked at me wickedly before walking towards an old elevator.

My face blazed from the response. As we entered the elevator, I scowled at him.

"What?" he shrugged almost innocently.

"I'm not your type. You're right. I'm too out of your league."

"You?" he asked in a laugh.

"I believe that is the definition and context in which I utilized the term I'."

"Right."

For some odd reason, he was frustrating me.

"Listen here buddy," I shot and harshly pulled him by the shirt towards me, "Just admit it. Admit that you love me when I'm close to you."

"Me?" his voice became a little more raw and uneasy, "No,"

"No?" I asked sweetly and undid the first button of his shirt while gently grazing my fingers on his chest to the second. Within a second, he pulled me closer keeping a firm arm around my waist, and stapled me to his body, "Why stop only with the shirt buttons? You can go lower than that, love."

I was speechless at his response.

Note to self; never try to piss him off again. He's Willy losing his Wonker' kind of insane.

When I didn't answer, he grinned wolfishly at me. "You're so wanton."

Blinking, I awkwardly shrugged away and arched an eyebrow, "What did you call me? I'm a what?"

"Wanton."

"How dare you. How dare you insult me with food like that." I hissed.

"Your only perception of that word is that it's food," he chuckled, "How adorable and dumb of you."

With the sound of the elevator chime and open, he walked out adjusting his shirt back to normal.

"Bastard," I muttered angrily as I helplessly followed after him. Shock laced through me as the ambiance of the entire atmosphere switched from whorehouse slum to five-star amazement. Well, this was not expected.

"What the actual hell." I breathed as I walked right behind him in this oddly fancy lobby.

"Surprised?"

"Very. What the heck did we transport through?"

"That, my dear is what we call an elevator:"

"Well no shit, Sherlock." I scoffed.

Sinister walked towards a woman who stood at a rich oaky door with the most exquisite details. By the manner she dressed, she didn't seem to be in any way scandalous looking but instead clothed in grey professional attire.

Sinister suddenly leaned over and whispered something into her ear. Nodding, she wrote something into a notepad and replied to him in his mother language. No doubt, was I confused. It was something that I was becoming quite often.

Sinister turned to me with a somewhat subtle smile and led me to a sitting area.

"Listen, I'll be out soon. Wait here for me."

At this point, I wasn't going to be stubborn. I had to listen to him if I wanted Rebecca back soon. With a soft smile and nod, I stayed back as he moved from me, he went into the room where the Woman stood near.

I sat awkwardly as I absorbed the features of the room. This was some kind of business that was going on here. There was no sound of individual chatter or laughter. If I wasn't in such a dangerous situation then I would have perhaps considered this setting to be quite lovely. I impatiently waited. The clock ticked to the beat of my heart and I almost felt myself becoming distraught as each moment passed. What's going on in that room?

With my hands clasped together in a praying position, I tightened my eyes and said a silent prayer that we would find Becca soon. The sound of a person's shoes on the glossy hardwood floor alerted me. A man no less than Sinister's age entered the room in such extraordinary elegance that it was shocking to see such a person in here rather than in a palace. His dirty blonde hair was neatly brushed back and his facial hair marked his face in such a way as to grab a woman's attention and let her bow down before him. Not to mention how deep the blue in his eyes seemed to dip. Almost like Sinister's - like a bottomless ocean. His suit seemed to be designer and perfectly tailored to him. Everything about this man screamed fancy, fine, and not to mention insanely expensive. He had this odd allure around him as he walked over to where I was seated and sat on the single sofa next to mine.

I tried not to acknowledge him and he seemed to not be too bothered about my existence as well. That was a good thing I believe.

The sound of a sudden gunshot caught my attention and I snapped up from the seat.

"Sinister!!" I panicked as I rushed towards the woman who stood at the door who also seemed a bit startled. As she was about to open the door, someone from the inside suddenly opened it and two men pushed each other out, knocking her to the side.

"Salvatore?" I worriedly asked as he was nowhere to be seen.

*Don't you ever listen, Grey? I told you to stay where you are." I heard my favorite bastard coming out of the room, unharmed.

As the woman got herself up, I turned around to see the elegant stranger a few feet away from us with a gun aimed towards Sinister.

"I hate traitors," the man stated in a silky British accent.

And at that moment, he pulled the trigger.