Desolation [h.s]

Chapter 3

Seraphina Amor

Planning things was never my strong suit. Having a distinct way to go about something was never a direction I followed. It was more a spur of the moment kind of logic. So, creating a plan for this mission was making my head spin. Harry had woken me up the second the sun had shone over the skyline, and to say I was in a pissy mood was an understatement.

In the office space of the penthouse, a map of the UK laid on the table. Each of the places where Jensen has been spotted is marked with a red dot.

"Okay, so we know he was last seen in London," Harry says as he paces back and forth. I watch him from the desk, swiveling in the chair perched behind it. I nod my head mindlessly as he recapped what information we know so far.

"But he isn't just in London. He's been seen in countless other cities too," I remind him, pointing at the map on the table. Harry barely glances at me as he continues pacing.

"I'm aware of that. What was the last testimony that was given about his sighting?" Harry asks, walking over to stand in front of the table. I grab the witness testimonies that were spread out, searching for the most recent one.

"Hurry up," he ushers in an impatient tone. I glare up at him and he rolls his eyes at me before walking away. Underneath another paper, the most recent sighting was typed out. Grabbing it, I read over it silently before paraphrasing the information back to Harry.

"He was seen going into some club. The witness said they saw him go out the back, leaving with someone. They couldn't tell if it was a man or woman. Just that he didn't leave alone."

Harry hums, pausing in his spot. "Did they give a name?" He asks, glancing over me. I scan the paper for a name, reading over the report.

"It's called Ecstasy," I answer. Looking up at Harry, his face drops at the name. "Do you know the place or something?"

Harry's lips pull into a frown and I eye him suspiciously. "Yeah, I know it," he mumbles, his voice so quiet I can barely even hear it.

"Okay, so what's the issue?" I question, placing the folder back onto the table. Harry looks at me, his expression stern.

"It's an elite club. You have to have membership or an invite in order to get in."

"Do you have a membership?" I ask. Harry shakes his head.

"I don't. But I know someone who does," he responds, walking over to where his phone was placed on the table. Picking it up, he starts typing away at his phone. "He owes me a favor."

I watch him silently as he continues writing whatever message he was making. He's wearing all black once again. His button up had been rolled up to his elbows, showing off the various tattoos on his arms. I was right when I assumed he has a lot of them. His left forearm was decorated with an array of inked drawings. An anchor tattoo is on his wrist and the tail of what I think is a mermaid is peaking out from under his sleeve as well as the stem of a flower. They suit him in away, creating a contrast between his golden skin and the ink.

The sound of a number dialing cuts me off from staring at Harry's tattoos and my attention is drawn up to his face, his phone resting to his ear.

"Who are you calling?" I ask. Harry doesn't respond to me, just silently waits for the person he's calling to answer. A huff escapes me and I lean back in the chair, reading over all of the witnesses testimonies. Most of them remained anonymous, so we couldn't even look for these people to ask to hear the story in person. Everyone was too afraid of Jensen finding out that they had ratted him out. I guess I understand it. This guy seemed like a pretty intimidating person.