V Games (The Vampire Games Trilogy Book 1)

by Caroline Peckham

  The back of my neck prickled and I instinctively reached to the top of my dress, where I'd been keeping my stake for days.

  Varick swiftly took my hand, evidently aware of exactly what had just run through my mind. His fingers squeezed mine and for less than a heartbeat, his mouth was at my ear.

  “Timing, sweetheart.”

  He released me and I ascended the stage on shaky legs, the applause still surrounding me like thunder. I gathered up my dress, afraid of stumbling. Despite that being the least of my worries, it suddenly seemed important that I put on a strong front. Any weakness and I suspected these people might swoop down on me like vultures over a dying animal.

  Katherine Helsing moved to greet me on skyscraper heels. All four of them wore gold to match me and I despised that I'd been lumped in with them. As if I somehow belonged here.

  She bent low, placing a kiss on my cheek that lingered there long after she'd stepped aside. I resisted the urge to scrub my cheek clean.

  Mercy curtsied and Ignus bowed his head. And then I was left to the fate of Abraham, whose entire, massive hands encompassed mine as he placed a kiss on my forehead.

  Cheers reached to me from the crowd and as I was turned to face them, spotlights blinded me, making me blink like a deer in the headlights.

  “The winner of the first game in this year's season of the V Games: Selena Grey!” Abraham spoke into a microphone, his voice magnified tenfold across the room.

  Mercy appeared before me with a medal in hand, her dress a mere sliver of what mine was. I leant back as she placed it over my head, her eyes trailing over my face with too much interest.

  “Congratulations,” she said, adjusting my hair so it was pulled from beneath the ribbon.

  “What an honour,” I said through my teeth. “You should really play yourself sometime.”

  Mercy's perfectly composed expression faltered at my remark, her eyes swiveling over my head in the direction of her mother. Then she moved on. A breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding passed my lips. I dropped my head, gazing down at the heavy golden disc attached to the ribbon, weighing down my neck.

  A large H was engraved in the middle of it, striked through with a silver stake; words circled the emblem, marking me as a winner of the V Games.

  When the applause died down at last, Abraham addressed the room once more. “Now, the moment you are all anxiously awaiting: the winning bid. As you know, whoever placed the highest bet on Selena Grey winning the game, will not only receive the 25 to 1 payout, but a full night with the girl herself-”

  I didn't hear any more. Men were catcalling to me, whistling and making gestures I wanted to rip their throats out for.

  My ears rang, like a warning bell going off in my head. I took a wary step back from the edge of the stage, stealing a glance at the Helsings. Mercy was smirking, but her brother seemed bored, paying more attention to his nails than me. Katherine had her hand on her husband's shoulder, smiling and nodding as he spoke.

  I hunted for Varick in the crowd, finding him at the side of the stage, his expression entirely blank. I searched for comfort, but found none. Had he betrayed me after all?

  Abraham's voice cut into my head again.

  “The winner, bid just over 2.5 million in total, and bet on Selena Grey from the start.” Abraham paused for dramatic effect whist my eyes trailed over the sea of spectators. “Congratulations to Brice Edgewater!”

  A raucous of shouts and cheers went up from one side of the room and I spotted a group of men, patting their friend on the back. I couldn't get a good look at him, but with the feeling of a block of ice melting in my stomach, I vowed to kill the man before he laid a finger on me.

  Abraham was speaking again, drawing me out of my blinding rage.

  “But first, Selena will be spending a night with our esteemed Vampire friend, without whom this game could not be possible, please welcome to the stage, Varick Cartwright.”

  Two things became apparent to me: the first, that I couldn't trust Varick. And the second was that, even if I did get out of this place, the Helsings were going to make sure I was broken. Apparently surviving the game wasn't enough to warrant sending me home. I now had to be subjected to a worse kind of hell.

  Varick was guided to my side and he thanked each of the Helsings in turn. I was sick, trembling, ready to lunge into the crowd and start ripping limbs off (and other body parts these men deserved to have removed). But I had no time to act as I was led off of the stage.

  Varick's hand clamped around my wrist. He must have sensed how much I was shaking, and I prayed he mistook it for fear and not the absolute rage that was coursing through me.

  I just needed a weapon.

  One of the men placed a drink in my hand and I immediately chucked it in his face, snarling my rage. Instead of getting angry, he started laughing, seeming delighted by my mood.

  Varick's arm slid around my waist and I twisted free, glaring at him.

  “We're leaving,” he demanded and I shook my head, backing up so I nudged into a few of the men.

  “I'm not going anywhere with you,” I hissed.

  Hands slid up my back and I lurched away from the crowd, finding their eyes trailing over me with a hunger that scared me more than a V's.

  Varick snatched a hold of my waist, tugging me against him and practically spitting venom at the men who had touched me. They backed up, the smiles falling immediately from their faces.

  I tried to wriggle free again, but Varick held on tight, guiding me purposefully toward the exit. The music grew louder and the lights dimmed as we reached it, the party getting fully underway.

  I gave into Varick as he guided me out of the room, not wanting to spend a second longer in the company of those people. Many of the men were already drunk and the last thing I needed was to be trapped in a hall with all of them.

  At least Varick was just one man. Or Vampire. And I had defeated plenty of them already.

  The second we were out the door, Varick pressed me back against a wall. “Calm down, I'm on your side.”

  “Ha,” I spat. “You seemed pretty cosy up there with the Helsings.”

  His upper lip curled into a snarl that sent a tremor through me. “Do you have any idea what they'll do if they even suspect I'm going to help you?”

  My mouth opened then closed. “But you get a night with me, like that other man – the bidder.”

  Varick shut his eyes, seeming physically in pain. “For blood, Selena. They give you to me to drink from.”

  “Oh,” I breathed, my body slowly halting its trembling.

  A group of men burst from the door, laughing and joking.

  “Scream,” Varick demanded, pressing his mouth to my neck.

  My eyes flew open in surprise and I started screaming, thrashing against him. It certainly felt good to get some of my rage out. And miraculously, Varick didn't take a bite.

  The men fell silent, eyeing us with awe and excitement.

  I wanted to chase after them, to make them pay for watching me go through the games, gambling my life for their entertainment.

  They passed round a corner and Varick released me, taking my hand and hurriedly leading me away from the hall.

  I wasn't sure what to think, continually stealing glances at him as we walked. I had to trust him. Why would he lie now? What would he gain? He could have bitten me then if he wanted to, but he stayed his hand. That had to mean something.

  “Where are we going?” I breathed as we headed up into the west tower. The spiral staircase circled ever upwards, making me dizzy.

  “My room,” he muttered, seeming deep in thought.

  Eventually, he led me through a wooden door, the room placed at the far end of a pale stone corridor.

  He didn't touch me, keeping his distance as he gestured for me to enter. I moved into the room, finding a large space with a king size bed and velvet furniture dotted around the flagstones. A crimson rug lay across the heart of the room, but apart from that, it was cold
and void of life. A door led off from it toward what I presumed was a bathroom. I span on my heel, turning to Varick who was bolting the door locked.

  Suddenly, I had to make a decision. I desperately needed someone to trust in this place and it had to be him.

  He seemed to guess what I was thinking as he raised his hands and promised, “I won't hurt you.”

  I dropped onto the edge of his bed, nodding, thinking of tomorrow. Varick may not hurt me, but I wasn't leaving this island until I'd spent a night with Brice Edgewater. And there was no way I was going to make it through even an hour without murdering the man. Then the Helsings really would never let me go.

  I sunk my head into my hands, trying to think of a way out. But I felt more imprisoned than ever, still playing games. The only difference was, the enemy wasn't Vs any more, it was men.

  Selena

  Varick was a dangerous ally to keep. I was very aware that he desired my blood. But he had stayed his hand so far. And I had to hold onto the hope that that meant something. Even so, I wasn't going to risk him changing his mind and I'd been deliberating all evening what that meant for me.

  “Varick,” I snagged his attention, pulling my knees to my chest.

  He kept his distance from me as I sat on the bed, always ten feet away, pacing or sitting in the red velvet armchair. He seemed at war with himself, fighting some secret battle in his head.

  “Selena?” He raised a brow; his eyes were growing bloodshot and I suddenly realised why he seemed so agitated.

  “You're hungry,” I sighed.

  “Is that a joke?” he drawled, his sharp fangs glinting at me.

  I rubbed at my wrists, the skin tingling there. “If you don't drink from me, what will happen?”

  He sighed, knocking his head back against the wall. “I imagine the Helsings won't let me keep you much longer.”

  “And then what?” I pressed, making a decision in my mind. The hairs on my neck crept up with what I was about to offer and I dug my fingernails into my skin. If I drew my own blood, would that mean I was in control of what came next?

  “Then they will have to feed me something else,” he snarled, raking his nails down the walls so great gauges of plaster ripped off.

  I shuddered, dropping my eyes, wondering if there were other girls already waiting in the holding cells lined up to play their sick game. Would Varick drink from one of them? Why was I any different?

  As the skin finally slit open on my wrist, Varick's head snapped up. Our eyes locked and I raised my arm.

  “Drink,” I commanded, my voice trembling only a fraction. Plenty of Vs had gotten their teeth into me during the game, but this was different. This was an exchange, a show of trust.

  He groaned his desperation, shutting his eyes and bashing his head back against the wall again. It was hard enough to knock a normal man out, but Varick seemed unharmed.

  “Do it,” I insisted, my voice quaking only a fraction.

  “No,” he snarled. “I promised I wouldn't hurt you.”

  “But if you don't feed, you'll be distracted. And I need you to help me, Varick. Please.” I lifted my wrist and he looked like he was going to rush at me. He didn't, instead shutting his eyes and shaking his head.

  “Stop, Selena,” he begged. “I won't do it.”

  I stood, tentatively moving toward him. “Varick, it's alright,” I insisted, taking his hand. His palm was rough against my fingers and I grew curious about his human life. Had those callouses been made then?

  “You don't know what you're saying,” he growled, opening his eyes, the whites of them shaded in red. He shook his head as he gazed at me. “You've given enough already. I won't take anything more from you.”

  “I'm asking you to,” I urged, a tear slipping from my eye, surprising me.

  In a flash, he caught it then wiped the mark from my cheek. “Please don't ask that of me. I won't be able to forgive myself for it.”

  “If you don't drink from me, then you will from someone else. Won't you?” I whispered and Varick slowly nodded.

  “Someone who deserves it,” he snarled.

  “But if you drink from one of the men, they'll know you aren't feeding on me.”

  His eyes darkened and he sighed, trying to walk past me without touching me. I shot out a hand to halt him, lifting my torn wrist to his mouth.

  “Drink, Varick. For both our sakes.”

  He quivered as he resisted a moment longer, then his hand curled around my arm, pulling my wrist to his mouth. His fangs sunk into my veins, so gently that it only stung for a second.

  His grip was iron and his bite was deep. The longer it went on, the more I grew to bear it. I'd expected the pain the Vs had inflicted on me in the game. But this was a different experience entirely. I found myself watching him, hardly daring to blink.

  He seemed desperate as he drank from me, his eyes squeezed shut like he was in agony. But he continued to be impossibly gentle. Finally, he dragged himself away with a breath of relief, turning from me before I could catch sight of his expression.

  I eyed the pin-prick marks on my wrist, running my fingers over the slightly raised bumps. He certainly looked better for the blood; the translucent quality of his skin was gone. He actually looked more human, his cheeks slightly tinted with colour, his deep green eyes brighter and his lips fuller.

  I didn't know where to look and he evidently felt the same as we stood across from each other.

  “You should know, I rarely restrain myself,” he admitted in a dark tone.

  My heart flipped over as I nodded. “Good to know.”

  His jaw tightened as he surveyed me. “Are you alright?” He was eyeing my wrist where I was still trailing my thumb over the bite marks.

  I dropped my hand. “It didn't hurt, not like in the game.”

  “That's a first for me, I think.” His brow lowered and he slit his wrist open, offering the blood to me to heal.

  I shook my head. “Better to keep the marks as proof to the Helsings that you're feeding from me.”

  He gritted his jaw, nodding and I noticed that the skin on his wrist had already healed over.

  A tense silence fell over us. It was as if a moment had passed between us that was even more intimate than the kiss we'd shared the other night.

  “Why are you helping me?” I asked eventually, puncturing the quiet.

  He started pacing. “Call it instinct, a gut feeling, whatever you like. But the only reason I'm standing here today is because I've paid attention to that feeling in the past. So that's what I'm doing now.”

  I fell quiet at that, moving back to the bed and dropping down. I knew that feeling too. It had saved me more than once from my stepfather's anger. Sometimes just the sound of the front door opening set it off in me. I simply knew he was in a bad mood. I could slip out the window and head to the park, or pretend I was asleep before he came for me. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. But at least I'd had a chance to do something about it.

  His mouth twitched as he watched me.

  “What?” I asked, glancing away to escape his unblinking gaze.

  “Nothing,” he grunted, returning to his pacing.

  I sighed. “If we're going to be allies, Varick, I'd rather you were honest with me.”

  “Allies?” he questioned. “Is that what you think we are?”

  “What would you call it?” I challenged.

  He shrugged. “Friends maybe.”

  I gave him a small smile. “Let's not over-do it.”

  He laughed and the sound took me by surprise. He sounded so human, so at ease.

  “Alright, allies.” He air-quoted the word, making my smile grow.

  I explored his features, the way they had softened and the dark circles around his eyes had faded. “You look...different.”

  He dropped onto the far end of the bed, surveying me. “Blood makes me more human. And not just on the outside.” He tapped his head. “There's a lot going on up here right now.”

  “
Like?” I lifted a brow.

  He tongued his cheek. “Give me a minute. I'm trying to work it out myself.”

  I gazed down at my hands, knotting them together. My thoughts drifted to Cass and pain lanced through me again. “Varick?” I breathed and he tilted his head, waiting for me to go on. “Why am I still alive? And...not the others?”

  A tense line appeared on his brow. “I don't know why, Selena. Maybe you just tried harder than the rest of them. But I doubt it, don't you?”

  My gut stirred uncomfortably. I didn't like that idea one bit.

  He reached out, taking my hand. I inhaled sharply, finding his palm warm to the touch. “You're-”

  He nodded, a slanted smile pulling at his mouth. “Feels good. But it won't last.” His fingers ran over mine briefly before he released me. “Forgive me,” he said quietly. “It's like waking from a nightmare. Everything's new again for a while.”

  My heart tugged at his words; it was strangely painful to see him experiencing life for the first time in god knows how long.

  “Does your heart beat?” I asked softly.

  “Only once every minute normally...but now...” He took my hand and lifted it to his chest. I stretched my palm flat, feeling the soft drum of his very human-seeming heart.

  I glanced up, my own heartbeat rising to match the rush of his. “Did you know your heart beats in time with the music you listen to?” I blurted, the words spilling from my mouth. I'm not sure why I'd said it, but it was one of those beautiful things I loved about life. My mother had told me so when I was younger so I could listen to soft tunes when my heart rate elevated. It helped me keep calm. It saved me from the fear of him for a while.

  “Is that so?” Varick raised a brow, dropping my wrist so I parted contact with him. The beat of his heart seemed to linger on in my palm.

  Varick stood, moving to the top-of-the-range laptop on his bedside table. Flipping it open, he traversed his way through reams of music before pausing on a particular song.

  I settled myself on the bed as Ain't No Grave by Johnny Cash played into the room. I choked on a laugh.

  “Fitting,” I remarked.

  “I always was a fan of irony.” He grinned and I felt as though I was seeing him for the first time. Or at least glimpsing the man he'd once been.