by Callie Rose
A quick glance is enough to assure me that the room is clear. It will take a closer inspection to assure me that no one’s gone through it, but I can do that after Connor leaves.
“I hope you feel better soon,” he tells me, sincerity shining from his big brown eyes.
“Thank you.” Weirdly enough, I sort of mean it. I can’t trust him, but he did get me out of that fucking great hall.
He squeezes my hand and grins. “It’ll get easier. I promise. Goodnight, Darcy.”
“Goodnight.”
Damn his charming face. He turns and walks away, but shoots a parting glance over his shoulder. I stare after him, unable to look away. He ambles like a man, like a human, without the practiced grace or hunter’s gait I’m used to seeing. If I saw him on the street, I wouldn’t even think to follow him.
Once he disappears around a corner, I step all the way into my room and shut the door firmly, pressing my back to it.
Don’t get confused, Mikka. He’s a vampire. A monster like the rest of them. Don’t lose sight of that.
The image of Nathan getting snacked on pops into my head, and I have to pin myself to the door to keep from opening it and racing through the halls to find Beatrice and lop off her fucking head.
Adrenaline courses through me, making my hands shake with unspent energy.
Dammit.
This is going to be so much harder than I thought.
Chapter Ten
I spend the next several hours carefully pulling my weapons out of my dress and hand-stitching the lining back together. I try to fix the wardrobe drawer to hide my things, but it isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. After a few rather loud mishaps, I decide to hide the weapons in the hollow space beneath the drawer instead, though they’re much more difficult to get to in a hurry.
Of course, the only reason I would need to get to them in a hurry is if someone identified me as an assassin, which they would only do if they found the weapons, so they’re better off down there anyway. The painstaking labor helps to calm me and passes the time.
I honestly have no idea what time of day it is anymore. I’m sure it won’t take me long to get used to a nocturnal lifestyle, and for my internal clock to swap night for day and day for night. I should probably be exhausted right now, but I’m too wired up to sleep yet. Besides, there’s still something I need to do.
Eventually, I hear the other tributes come down the hall. I count the doors as they close, until I’m certain that everybody is in their places.
Waiting is a skill I’ve had to learn, and I’ve gotten okay at it, but it isn’t something I like to do. I have to stop myself from pacing my room, because if someone outside suspects that someone in here isn’t sleeping, they’re going to be paying attention. Since I’ve got nothing left to do to occupy my hands, I lie down on the bed and mentally map out the palace instead. There are large gaps in my knowledge, of course, but between what I know of the exterior and what I’ve seen of the interior, I can make some educated guesses.
Once I’ve gone over every corridor I walked through in my mind’s eye at least twice, I sit up on the bed, cocking my head as I listen.
The palace has been silent for an hour at least, probably longer. By my best guess, the sun has been up for a couple hours by now—not that anyone down here would be able to tell.
Time to move.
I slide off the bed, then kick off my shoes. I’m still wearing the ridiculous peek-a-boo lace dress, but at least I can move in it. That’s all that matters, really.
My door doesn’t make a sound as I open it, and I let out a shaky breath. I pad down the hall, eyes and ears open for any whisper of movement, and stop near the end, where it intersects another corridor. A guard decked out in his punk bondage regalia is pacing away from me. I wait, controlling my heart and my breath.
He turns right, heading down the intersecting hallway. I dart forward on bare feet and speed in the opposite direction, whipping around a corner—eyes first, of course, to make sure it’s clear—then stop short. The palace lights have been dimmed, giving me lots of shadows to work with, but shadows alone don’t matter too much. It’s the contrast I need. Even vampire eyes need a second to adjust. I’ve gotten really good at using that to my advantage.
There aren’t as many guards patrolling the corridors as I would have expected. The one I dodged in the female tribute wing seems to be the only one posted there. There are two by the main staircase that Connor had so much trouble finding, but they’re both bored and chatting. It’s a breeze to sneak around behind them and duck through the passage under the stairs. I consider a surprise attack but manage to talk myself out of it. Missing guards are sure to raise alarms, and I can’t let that happen.
I’m not going to assume anything, but I suspect if there’s only one vampire guarding the girls, it’s likely that there’s only one guarding the guys. Once I’m out of earshot of the stairs, the palace around me grows deathly quiet. I take a few turns that lead to places I definitely don’t want to be and have to double-back, but eventually I come to an area which is a mirror image of the female tributes’ quarters. There’s a guard leaning against one wall, scrolling through his phone. It would look odd to me if I hadn’t just spent so much time with the surprisingly contemporary Connor. The weirdest part is that he manages to get reception down here, honestly.
I wait, still and silent, in a dark alcove. Eventually the guard sighs, stretches, and mumbles something under his breath. I have no idea what the words are, but a second later, he turns and heads down the hallway. Maybe he’s supposed to make the rounds every once in a while.
Good. Gives me the opening I need.
I creep down the hallway, as silent as a human can possibly be. Identical doors line each wall, and I realize that there’s one obstacle I didn’t consider before I got this far. How the hell am I supposed to know which door is Nathan’s? I stop moving and press my body against one wall, listening as hard as I can. Nothing. I take a few steps down, then press against the other wall. Still nothing.
Working my way slowly down the hall, I keep my ears open for any sound, any hint that will help me find Nathan. I hear the sound of a man crying, and for a second, hope rises inside me. But the voice is too rough to belong to my brother. Behind another door, someone sounds like he’s muttering in his sleep, and in another room, I’m pretty sure a guy is jacking off.
Then I pick up a vague noise coming from a room a little farther down. I creep toward it and listen at the door.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” a voice mutters.
My heart leaps. Nathan.
I tap on the door lightly, in our special rhythm—the one our mom always used to use when she woke us up for school. There’s a lot I’ve forgotten about her over the years, but I remember that, and I hope like hell that he does too.
His voice cuts off cold, and I hear light footsteps on the floor before his door flies open. Nathan reaches out and drags me inside, closing the door behind me and crushing me in a giant, bony hug.
I’m so goddamn pissed at him. So frustrated that he let himself get this far into the shit, furious at him for not reaching out to me before it was too late. But he’s here, he’s whole, and—at least for the moment—he’s safe. So I hug him back with everything I have, holding on to him like his life and mine depend on it.
“Mikka,” he whispers, pulling away to look at my face. His green eyes are clear, but the dark smudges beneath them worry me. “Mikka, why are you here? You shouldn’t have come.”
“Shut up.” It comes out sounding gentle, which pisses me off. I’m supposed to be angry at him, but once again, I find myself playing mother to my older brother. I breathe a cleansing sigh, pushing every irrelevant emotion away. “Tell me what happened. Every last detail.”
His hands drop to his sides, and he starts pacing. “I was an idiot,” he says bluntly.
“Yeah, I kind of got that from the ‘stupid, stupid, stupid.’ Give me specifics.”
He shoots m
e a crooked smile. “I’ve missed getting yelled at.” When I roll my eyes, he grins and holds his hands up. “Okay, sorry. I chose to come here.”
My mouth drops open. “You what?”
He shrugs in his rolling, irregular way. “I was in the hole with a dealer. I was supposed to run some product for him, but I was living—well, you know where I was living. Somebody ripped me off. Stole ten grand worth of blow. Dealer assumes I used it all myself or sold it and kept the money, gives me forty-eight hours to get him his cash.”
I can feel a lecture building behind my tongue, but I save it. I can tell this story isn’t anywhere near over yet. Nathan shoots me a tentative glance, probably trying to gauge how close I am to blowing my fucking lid, then barrels on.
“So I go see this guy I know and tell him my problem. He tells me he can’t do ten, but he can do five, and he knows which horse is gonna win the next race. Swore up and down that it was a sure thing. I’m thinking cool, if it’s a sure thing that means I can get the dude his money and still turn a profit, right?”
I really want to shake him right now. But I curl my hands into fists and nod instead. “Go on.”
He grimaces nervously. “So I put the whole five thousand on this stupid horse. It loses. So now I’m fifteen grand in the hole, and I’ve got two really bad people pissed at me. Time’s running out. I freak out right then and there, and some guy tells me to go see the guy who runs the track, says sometimes he’ll let a desperate person do some job or other for him if they want to get their money back.”
Dear god, this town is full of predators.
“Okay, how did that go?” Like I don’t already know.
Nathan blows out a breath. “I talk to the guy. He seems reasonable. Tells me I’m not pretty enough to turn tricks for him, and he obviously can’t trust me to move product, so there’s just one last thing he can think of for me to do. He needs someone to carry a gun and flash it around a little bit to intimidate some guy he’s dealing with down at the docks that night.”
I barely swallow a groan. My brother won’t even look at me now, and I don’t fucking blame him.
“So I go,” he says with a sigh. “And I carry the stupid thing like I’m supposed to, and I mean mug the guy he’s dealing with, everything seems to be going just fine. I mean, I’m still looking at having to come up with five thousand dollars in eighteen hours, but that’s better than ten, right?”
“Sure,” I deadpan.
He clears his throat and gives me a shifty look. “So, um—the guy starts acting a little funny, trying to be all intimidating, and the track owner gives me the signal. So I rush the guy and point the gun in his face, shouting some shit I don’t even remember. The guy—this fucking guy—he falls over. Gets scared, I guess, and just fucking falls over. He almost goes off the dock. The case he was carrying took a long trip off the pier.”
“Oh, no.” My head is starting to hurt, my pulse pounding in my temples like a drum. This would be almost funny if it wasn’t so goddamn sad. “What was in it?”
Nathan shrugs miserably. “Whatever it was, it was apparently worth five hundred thousand dollars. Obviously the track dude pinned that on me. Let me tell you, going from ten to five hundred in three seconds will make you puke.”
“You puked.”
“All over the track dude’s one-of-a-kind hand-made special-order Italian leather shoes,” he admits.
“Goddammit, Nathan.”
He nods, his lips pulling into a grimace, then brightens. “But it’s okay! It’s okay. Because I thought he was going to kill me right then and there, swear to god. But he decided to give me one last chance to redeem myself. He said he had an opportunity for me which would settle my debts with everybody, and would keep me out of trouble for years to come. He, um—sort of said it with malice, and I really thought I was going to be sold to some human traffickers or a cannibal or something. But it was just the vampires! Isn’t that great?”
I stare at him until his face falls, watching the hopeful façade slowly melt away.
“I want you to think about that, Nathan,” I say slowly. “Really, really think about that. You were afraid he would sell you to human traffickers or cannibals. And where did you end up?”
He slumps. “On the auction block.”
“For what purpose?”
“To be drunk from. But they don’t have to kill me to do it, so that’s a plus, right?”
“Jesus Christ.” I bury my face in my hands, smothering a groan.
“I’m sorry,” my brother murmurs softly. “I really am, Mimi. But the way my life was going, I didn’t see any other way out. I really didn’t. Everything was going wrong for me, over and over and over again, and I kept dragging good people down with me. I couldn’t keep doing that. I figure if I’m here, I can do the least amount of damage. It’s like being in jail or rehab, but better because… well, I guess the food’s better? Also, they’ll give me bonus if I finish my contract.”
“If?”
He shuffles around uneasily. “Well, I mean, it’s a thirty-year contract, and I’ve put a lot of miles on this body. Plus, with all the blood-letting, I just don’t know if…” He trails off, opening his hands helplessly. “That’s why… Fuck, you really shouldn’t have come here. I’m really fucking glad to see you, but this is something I have to do. It’s the natural consequence of my actions. Isn’t that what you used to tell me?”
I gape at him. “Yeah, when you were crying on the toilet because you were too high to take a shit for three weeks! This is a life sentence, Nathan. A. Life. Sentence. For what, losing some dirty money? None of those bastards even deserved to have that much cash. You losing it was their natural consequence. This? This is nothing more than manipulation. That whole story you just told me was like watching a rat follow a trail of peanut butter to a snap trap. You were set up.”
He shakes his head. “No. I don’t think so—”
“You don’t? Then let me tell you something you don’t know. The guy who owns the race track is a fucking vampire.”
“I—” He breaks off, his jaw slowly falling open. “What?”
“Yup. I would bet—not you, obviously, you’re never taking another bet again—but I would bet that the guy on the dock was a vampire too, and that there wasn’t a goddamn thing in that case. Who did you get the loan from?”
Nathan scratched at the slight shadow of stubble on his face. “Skeezy Pete.”
“Vampire. And the guy who wanted you to sell drugs for him?”
He swallows hard. “Dude named Steel-eye Sam.”
I frown, thinking. “Okay, I don’t know that one. But think about it, Nathan. You wouldn’t have gone to Skeezy unless you were desperate. Skeezy’s the one who sent you to the track. Someone at the track sent you upstairs. You were funneled here like a rat in a fucking maze. Can’t you see that?”
My brother shakes his head, then drops it and shakes it some more. He sits down heavily on the bed and lets his arms dangle limply in front of him. I don’t speak, just let him process everything.
After a few minutes, he straightens up and looks at me with a frightened sort of defiance.
“It doesn’t matter if I was funneled or not,” he says, like an idiot. “This was going to happen eventually. You know that. That’s why you walked away from me when I wouldn’t move in with you. So that you wouldn’t get sucked down with me.”
My heart feels like it cracks open in my chest, leaving the blood in my veins with nowhere to go. I don’t know what hurts more—that he would even think that of me, or that on some level, maybe he’s right.
I sit down on the bed next to him and bump my head gently against his. “I really thought you would pull yourself out of it if I gave you the chance.”
“Come on, Mimi, you know me better than that. I’m not good at things the way you are. I fuck up everything I touch, no matter what I try. Even when I got sober, I still couldn’t get my shit together. I’m—fucking hell, I’m tired of eating garbage. I’m tired
of having to fight off rats when I’m trying to sleep. I’m tired of trusting people and getting screwed over.”
He sighs, and it’s such a broken sound that it makes tears burn the backs of my eyes.
“These people,” he continues in a low voice. “These vampires. They aren’t good people, but at least I know where I stand with them. I know exactly what I’m supposed to do because it’s all there in black and white. They’re giving me a home and a bed and good food, they’re settling up my debts, they’re taking care of me—and all I have to do for them is let them suck on my neck a little bit.”
“Drink your blood,” I correct him harshly.
“Whatever,” he murmurs. “At least the holes don’t stay.” He touches his old track marks self-consciously.
Something twists in my stomach, and I straighten up suddenly and smack him across the back of his head. I swear I mean to do it lightly, but all the frustration I’ve been channeling all night makes it harder to pull my hit.
“Ow!” He jerks, reaching back to rub at his dark hair.
“I’m not going to let you sit here and martyr yourself,” I say, holding his gaze as I lean toward him. “You’re wrong when you say I shouldn’t have come here. I’m not gonna abandon you. I’m going to get us both out of here.”
“Mimi—”
“Don’t.” I hold up a hand to stop him. “You aren’t thinking clearly, but I am. I’m under a contract with the vamps just like you are now, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop fighting. They don’t get to rig the game and win every time. We get to win this time. All we have to do is get out of here, and I can take you far away from here. Someplace they’ll never find us. How about Canada? Or, I don’t know, Portugal?”
He doesn’t look excited. “It’s not a good idea to go up against these guys,” he insists. “They’re really powerful.”
“So am I,” I growl. “Listen to me, Nathan. You just keep your head down. Don’t draw any attention to yourself, don’t go flirting with anybody, just keep to yourself. Be a statue. No making friends, no falling in love with vampires. Also, and I cannot stress this enough—do not talk to me in public. Don’t even look at me if you can help it. You and I do not know each other, got it? Don’t let anybody know that you know me, or that we’re related.”