Chapter 7 The Underground

Blake Rivers - POV

I find Emma in Ryan's study two hours after her encounter with Kane, staring at medical texts about death and dying like they hold answers to questions she's afraid to ask. The psychic residue from Margaret's passing still radiates from her in waves I can read like emotions on a face.

"You're not going to find what you're looking for in those books," I say, closing the door behind me.

She doesn't look up. "Kane knew I was in that hospital room. She knew exactly when Margaret died."

"Of course she did." I settle into the chair across from her, studying the new tension in her shoulders. "Kane has informants throughout the medical system. Nurses, orderlies, administrators—all feeding her information about enhanced individuals."

"Enhanced individuals." Emma's voice carries a bitter edge. "Is that what we're calling victims now?"

"That depends on your perspective." I pull out my phone and scroll to a secured folder. "Emma, there's something you need to understand about the world you've entered. It's not just Blackwood and Kane and university politics."

She finally meets my eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean there's an entire economy built around people like you. A marketplace where psychic abilities are bought and sold like commodities." I show her a photograph—surveillance footage of a young woman being loaded into an unmarked van. "This girl disappeared from a community college in Pennsylvania last month. Telekinetic abilities, according to our sources."

Emma's face goes pale. "Disappeared how?"

"The same way dozens of enhanced individuals vanish every year. They're taken by traffickers who supply private collectors, research facilities, and worse." I swipe to another image. "The underground supernatural community has auction houses in every major city. Tonight, there's one happening here."

"You want me to go to one of these auctions." Her voice is flat, but I can read the horror building behind her careful control.

"I want you to understand what you're fighting against. Kane isn't working alone—she's part of a network that spans continents. If you're going to survive this, you need to see the full scope of what we're dealing with."

Emma closes the medical text with deliberate precision. "And you just happen to have access to illegal supernatural auctions."

"My family has connections throughout the underground. We gather intelligence, sometimes intervene when we can." The partial truth slides out easily—she doesn't need to know about the times we've participated for less noble reasons. "Knowledge is survival in our world."

"Fine." She stands, shouldering her backpack. "Show me."

The Nexus operates out of converted subway tunnels beneath the warehouse district, accessible through maintenance doors that respond to psychic signatures rather than physical keys. I guide Emma through passages that smell of rust and decades-old fear while explaining the rules.

"Don't speak unless spoken to. Don't react visibly to anything you see. And whatever happens, don't use your abilities—every psychic in the building will sense it immediately."

"What exactly am I going to see?"

"People being sold like livestock to buyers who view them as investments." The tunnel opens into a chamber carved from living rock and decorated with enough luxury to rival European palaces. "The supernatural elite have refined tastes, even when shopping for slaves."

Emma stops walking when she sees the crowd—men and women in designer clothing mingling with beings that aren't entirely human, all examining glossy catalogs filled with photographs and technical specifications.

"This is real," she whispers.

"Very real. And very profitable." I spot Marcus Thorne approaching and prepare my usual mask of casual interest. "Remember—you're a potential investor researching enhanced individuals for academic purposes."

"Blake Rivers." Marcus extends a manicured hand, his smile never reaching his calculating eyes. "Always a pleasure to see the Rivers family represented at our little gatherings."

"Marcus. I trust tonight's selection meets your usual standards?"

"Oh, we have some particularly interesting specimens. Several telekinetics, a few empaths, and one remarkable girl who's been providing fascinating data on genetic precursors to psychic enhancement." His gaze shifts to Emma with obvious curiosity. "And this would be...?"

"Dr. Emma Kane," I lie smoothly, using the first surname that comes to mind. "She's researching hereditary factors in psychic development."

Emma offers Marcus a polite smile that doesn't betray her inner turmoil. "I've heard impressive things about your operation."

"Wonderful. The auction begins shortly—I do hope you find something suitable for your research."

As Marcus moves away, Emma grabs my arm with fingers that shake slightly. "Did you just use Kane's last name?"

"It was the first thing I thought of. Don't read too much into it." But even as I say it, something about Marcus's reaction bothers me—a flicker of recognition when he heard the name.

The viewing area resembles a museum exhibition, with each "lot" displayed behind reinforced glass that suppresses psychic abilities while allowing buyers to observe their purchases. Emma goes completely still when we reach the seventh cell.

The girl inside could be her younger sister—same dark hair, same bone structure, same haunted eyes that speak of trauma beyond her years. But where Emma radiates defiant strength, this girl radiates broken resignation.

"Her name is Sarah Martinez," I say quietly, checking my phone for the information my contacts provided. "Nineteen years old. Telekinetic abilities first manifested eight months ago during a college exam. She was taken from her dorm room three weeks later."

"She looks like me."

"I noticed." The resemblance is too perfect to be coincidental, but I keep that observation to myself. "Physical similarity to known psychics is often a marker for latent abilities."

Emma studies Sarah's file through the glass display. "It says here she's been used for 'genetic compatibility testing.'"

"Probably DNA sampling to identify hereditary factors in psychic development." The clinical explanation tastes like ash in my mouth. "Researchers are always looking for ways to predict and enhance supernatural abilities."

The auction begins with Marcus Thorne's practiced showmanship, each lot presented like fine art rather than human beings. I watch Emma's reactions carefully as the prices climb—minor telepaths selling for hundreds of thousands, rare empaths commanding seven figures.

"Lot number seven," Marcus announces as Sarah's cell rotates into full view. "An exceptional telekinetic with documented abilities and comprehensive genetic mapping. This specimen has proven invaluable for research into hereditary psychic traits. Bidding opens at two hundred thousand."

Emma's psychic signature spikes dangerously as paddles rise around the chamber. "Blake, we have to do something."

"Do what, exactly? Start a war with the most dangerous people in the supernatural community?"

"I can't just stand here and watch her be sold."

"You can and you will, because the alternative gets us both killed." I keep my voice low, professional, even as I feel her moral outrage bleeding through our connection. "Emma, saving one person isn't worth exposing yourself to every predator in this room."

"Four hundred thousand," someone calls out.

"She could be me," Emma whispers. "If things had been different, if Kane had taken me instead of manipulating my transfer to Blackwood—that could be me in that cell."

"But it's not you. You're here, you're free, and you have the power to fight back against the system that created this place." I touch her shoulder, trying to ground her spiraling emotions. "Don't throw that away for someone you can't save."

"Five hundred thousand."

Emma stares at Sarah, who has started crying silently as strangers bid on her future. The girl looks directly at us through the glass, and something passes between them—a moment of recognition that makes my chest tighten with unexpected dread.

"What would happen if I used my abilities here?" Emma asks.

"Every psychic in the city would know your exact location and power level within minutes. Kane, her allies, rival factions, government agents—all of them would descend on this place." I study her profile, reading the determination building behind her fear. "The chaos would probably kill Sarah along with dozens of other prisoners."

"Six hundred thousand, going once..."

"Maybe," Emma says quietly. "Or maybe it would set them all free."

"Emma, don't—"

"Going twice..."

She looks at me then with eyes that hold steel I've never seen before. "I'm sorry, Blake. But some things are worth the risk."

Before I can stop her, Emma's power erupts in a psychic scream that shatters every piece of glass in the chamber. The reinforced barriers around the cells crack and collapse as her energy overwhelms the suppression fields, freeing dozens of prisoners who scatter through the chaos.

Alarms blare as security forces converge on our position. I grab Emma's hand, feeling her power still radiating outward like a supernatural beacon visible to every enhanced individual in the region.

"Time to go. Now."

We run through collapsing tunnels while emergency lights strobe and her psychic signature continues broadcasting our location to anyone capable of sensing it. Above ground, I can already feel them responding—predators and protectors alike, all drawn to the source of that impossible power.

"Emma," I shout over the sound of crumbling concrete and distant explosions, "do you understand what you've just done?"

She looks back at me as we burst through the maintenance door into the night air, her face glowing with residual psychic energy and absolute conviction.

"I've just painted a target on both our backs," she says. "But those people are free. And that matters more than my safety."

As sirens wail in the distance and shadows move through the darkness around us, I realize Emma Stone has just declared war on the entire supernatural underground—and there's no going back.