by Zoe Winters
There was a brief intermission while minions cleared the ring of vampire dust and removed the jousting paraphernalia and swords. Others then entered the ring with various odd objects, including large hollowed-out logs and small sheds. It was like a theater set.
“And now,” the announcer began, “for our favorite event. We’ve tested our competitor’s fighting skills, agility, and courage.” In ten minutes? “Now it is time to test their senses and how well they hunt.”
She felt Paul’s grip tighten on her hand. This had been Anthony’s primary concern. Five humans were herded into the ring. One of them screamed. The others were begging for their lives no less fervently but with less glass-shattering volume.
Charlee looked on dispassionately, little thoughts rumbling through her mind, reminding her that when Paul removed his hand from her skin, she would care about this and care deeply.
The announcer spoke again, “It would be to your advantage to not scream or make any sound at all. In fact, you should probably hide.”
The vampires on the other end were blindfolded. She wasn’t sure if they could see through the cloth barriers, but it was clearly part of the test. A few of the humans tried to escape the ring altogether but were dragged mercilessly back to the center. They scurried to find hiding places among the set props that had been laid out. When they were in place, the blindfolds were removed, and the lights went out.
Chapter Fourteen
The lights had been extinguished for five seconds. And although Paul kept a tight grip on Charlotte’s emotions, Anthony could feel the faintest tinge of fear and disgust. Who could blame her? She’d watched five of her species herded into a ring like cattle to be hunted by creatures she hated because of him.
If he won, he wasn’t sure she’d stand by him. And then what? It wasn’t much to build a hundred-year reign on. Hell, if he won, he ran a serious risk of being overthrown in a couple of years anyway. Given the mess he’d made with Charlotte.
The stadium was bathed in a level of darkness few vampires experienced on a day-to-day basis. He wasn’t sure of the visual acuity of his opponents, but Anthony could see the barest outlines of the various props that had been set out for this task.
And he smelled the blood.
In her desperate need to hide more fully, one of the humans had cut herself, probably on the jagged edges he’d noticed on one of the logs before the lights had gone out. He scanned the space in front of him.
Ah. There. At the edge of the stadium near the bleachers.
On his way to his quarry, he was knocked on his ass. So, we’re playing this way, are we?
It wasn’t enough to hunt prey and be the fastest. Some genius had gotten it into his head to start taking out the competition in the dark while the judges were too far away to clearly see what was happening. Fine by him.
He leapt up and pulled a stake from his pocket. Nondescript Competitor Number One wasn’t the only one who could play dirty.
The two grappled in the dark for what felt like a brief eternity, but by Anthony’s calculation was probably thirty seconds. Thirty seconds in which another vampire could have caught Anthony’s prey. He thrust the stake into the other vampire’s chest, praying it was Linus now dying. For Charlotte’s sake.
He wiped the spray of blood from his face as the other vampire groaned and crumbled to the ground. The stench of the rotting corpse reached his nostrils, and he nearly gagged. It had been an old one.
He could hear the human’s heartbeat, thudding against her chest like a steel drum. Her crying was soft and controlled as she tried desperately not to let him hear her tears and give her location away. He reached inside the log and dragged her out, kicking and screaming.
Anthony was glad what he had to do, he could do under cover of darkness. If Charlotte had to watch, it would bring back too much of the night he’d fucked up royally. As it was, he wasn’t sure they’d ever get past it.
He sank his fangs into the girl’s throat and drank. He stopped a few moments later and sealed the wound. He could only be grateful that the past two centuries running this test had comprised of later enthrallment, rendering the former hunt-and-kill method awkward.
A few minutes passed, and the lights came up. Anthony blinked as his vision adjusted. Five vampires including himself had a victim they’d fed from. Two of the competitors had been left off to the side, beaten and bloody in the fight for a human, but alive. The other three no longer existed, except for three piles of dust at various points in the ring.
Anthony held the girl in his arms. She was still trembling, but since he’d put his hands on her, she’d calmed considerably. He turned her in his arms, and she turned her head away, avoiding his eyes. Smart girl. Unfortunately her intelligence regarding vampire thrall wouldn’t keep him in the competition.
“I’m going to make this simple for you. Do exactly as I tell you, or I’ll kill you. I have no problem causing your horrible death if you cause my elimination. If you do what I say, I’ll let you live. Do you understand?”
Her eyes met his. That a girl.
He took control of her mind, sifting through her thoughts, then implanted the command for her to wrap her arms around him and kiss him. She complied, her tongue sweeping into his mouth with the kind of enthusiasm he might have enjoyed if it had been real. He sighed against the woman’s lips. Just one more thing for Charlotte to be pissed off about.
He looked up. The judges nodded. While not a horrific display, kissing your captor and meaning it passed muster. His competition hadn’t been nearly so classy in their requests and though Paul kept a steady rein on Charlotte’s emotions, Anthony could palpably feel her disgust at the hypnotized orgy.
All five of the vampires passed on to the next round. It had never really been in doubt. This part of the tournament’s purpose was to feed the normal lust that blood lust caused in most vampires. Anthony had restrained himself, in part because of Charlotte’s presence, but also because if he won, he had much easier access to the respect and cooperation of the older of his kind, by showing self-restraint.
When the test was finished, the remaining vampires snapped the necks of their victims and let the bodies fall to the ground. Anthony had loosened his mental hold on his victim after she’d completed the task. She turned in his arms, a mask of horror over her features, as if she’d been lied to.
“Go,” Anthony said. Regardless of whether they liked it, this wouldn’t disqualify him. When she got to the edge of the ring, a guard blocked her path. Anthony said, “Let her pass.” The guard made a disgusted snort but stepped aside.
He took a deep breath. And now to the fun part. While his attention was focused on getting the young woman out of the ring, minions had stepped forward to bring out five chairs. Nice of them to think of the comfort of the competitors for the next round.
The announcer took the microphone again. “And now, for one of our less tasteful tests. The vampire who will lead us for the next hundred years must display many qualities that have already been tested; endurance is next. Competitors, have a seat.” The remaining vampires took their places.
Anthony wasn’t shocked to see Linus among them. He was, however, surprised that Gregory had made it this far. It struck him at once that Gregory had fed. From a throat.
Under cover of darkness, he’d abandoned his supposed principles with regards to drinking from the source so he could stay competitive. Gregory was a true politician.
He caught the look of guilt etched in the other vampire’s eyes. Gregory was sorry he’d killed his victim. He’d been out of control. The blood was too strong, and he wasn’t used to it. For a moment, Anthony felt sorry for him. Then there was no time to feel sorry for anyone.
The announcer spoke again, “The rules are quite simple. You are free to leave your seat at any time, but getting up, you forfeit your right to be king.”
“Sounds simple enough,” Gregory said.
Anthony chuckled. Gregory knew as well as he did what was next.
> Five werewolves in black hoods rolled out carts with tureens of holy water and golden crosses. The Weres wore the hoods because relations between them and vampires were strained to begin with. This way they wouldn’t be hunted down later and paid back in kind for the pain about to be delivered.
The wolves worked as a choreographed unit, each using the same amount of holy water, or pressing crosses against the same expanse of flesh. Five minutes passed before the first vampire dropped out.
Another ten minutes and they were down to three. Linus, Gregory, and Anthony. He had to admit, he was impressed with Gregory’s ability to withstand all this, and a grudging respect grew. A couple more minutes and Gregory was eliminated.
Anthony sighed. Linus turned to him, a dark grin on his cross-burned face. He’d known it would come down to them, as if the other events and competitors had been mere window-dressing of the inevitable. The implements of torture were taken away, as were the chairs.
“There will be a brief intermission as competitors prepare for the final test.”
***
Numbness wrapped around Charlee. She could barely feel Paul’s grip on her hand and was sure by now all the circulation had left it. But she couldn’t find the energy to care.
“Are you okay?” Jane leaned over Paul to examine her face.
“Fine.” There had been a few moments when she’d felt Paul’s control slipping and her own emotions spiraling out of control. Too many confusing thoughts and feelings.
The vampire was getting tired from using so much energy to calm her emotions for such an extended period. Nothing could stop the dread that had gnawed inside her stomach when the lights came on, when that girl had curled against Anthony as if they were lovers and mauled him with her mouth. Was that jealousy that had stabbed her gut?
She hated him. What did she care if some enthralled woman gave out fake affection? She’d had to close her eyes at the animalistic fucking that had taken place in the center of the ring with zombie humans. Paul had whispered in her ear to reassure her Anthony hadn’t followed the pattern of the others.
When it was over, she’d opened her eyes too soon to see lifeless bodies being dropped without care. She’d looked to Anthony and mentally she’d chanted, Please don’t kill her. Don’t kill her. I won’t be able to stand you living if you kill her. As if he’d heard her, he let the girl go, and Charlee released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
“Jane, I need you to do me a favor,” Paul said.
“Name it,” she replied with the same fake adoration she’d used with Gregory––until she’d obviously believed it––and now was using with Paul.
“I need you to go into the ring; tell them you’re there as Anthony’s second. You won’t have to do anything but hand him his sword. I need to stay with Charlotte.”
Jane hesitated.
“I’ll be fine,” Charlee said.
When Jane had left them, Paul turned in his chair to face her. “If Anthony loses and Linus becomes king, we have to leave this place immediately. There is a car waiting. For whatever reason, Linus has become obsessed with having you. I’d just as soon not make waves, but Anthony is my friend.”
Charlee’s fear was beginning to become overwhelming for a drained Paul. She wondered if this would affect his ability to help her escape. But she knew if he didn’t keep doing what he was doing it would distract Anthony, and they’d have to find out. So she took a few deep, calming breaths to try to lessen Paul’s psychic load.
“And if Anthony wins, you will march down there and support him,” the vampire added.
Charlee bristled. It reminded her of why she hated Anthony. Either way her life was on the line. The only real decision was whether it would be the greater or the lesser evil she was saddled with. For either victor, somehow she’d become the prize.
The lights dimmed, and a bright spotlight illuminated the ring. Charlee felt her stomach tighten.
“Close your eyes,” Paul said.
“I can’t. I’ll be more tense.”
“Your call.”
There was a drum roll in the background. “And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, the competition has been narrowed to two very worthy opponents. Anthony Burgess turned in 1546. And Linus Renard turned in 1312. In the human world we might vote, but in our world, we fight to death.”
Charlee had pretty much figured those were the stakes. She zoned out as the announcer went on describing rules and calling for swords to be brought out. She turned in her seat to find Callie staring at her with a vicious sneer.
She nudged Paul. “How will we get past her?”
He gritted his teeth against her assumption of Anthony’s death. “She’ll have to go down with her entourage. It’s not allowed to bring anyone else into the ring for the coronation. We can get out if we’re quick.”
Both vampires were expert swordsmen. It made sense as old as they were, but Charlee wondered who stayed in practice like that for centuries. She winced as Linus’s blade whipped out and caught Anthony’s cheek. Her hand came up to her own cheek, and she couldn’t resist the urge to look to make sure she wasn’t bleeding. Of course, her hand came away clean.
Anthony feinted to one side, dodging a strike that would have sent his head rolling across the ring. He twisted and took advantage of his opponent’s lack of center and drew his sword out in a wide arc, wanting his rival’s head but gashing his shoulder instead.
Linus laughed as blood gushed from the wound. If he hadn’t moved so quickly, he’d be minus one arm. Unfortunately for Anthony, it wasn’t the arm he was fighting with.
Anthony’s movements slowed. Something’s wrong. The thought grabbed hold of Charlee and wouldn’t let go.
Paul lost his tenuous control and her pulse raced, her emotions flooding out of her. She flinched when Anthony looked in her direction as her feelings swamped him. In that moment, Linus’s sword jammed into Anthony’s gut. He doubled over, and Charlee felt like the world had gone on mute, everything shifting to slow motion.
Her attention went to Linus as he turned toward the cheering crowd, holding his sword in the air, being a pompous ass, ridiculously sure of himself and his easy victory. So sure he could turn his back on his opponent.
She felt the rage surge through Anthony as he watched Linus’s display. He got his bearings back and rushed the other vampire, driving the sword into his back, and tackling him to the ground. While Linus lay shocked, the wind knocked out of him and his face in the dirt, Anthony slid the sword out and decapitated the vampire cleanly.
He looked up in Charlee’s direction, getting to his feet, clearly stunned he’d won so quickly and equally confused by Linus’s odd display of bravado at such a crucial moment.
Linus’s head and body began to rot.
Behind her Callie screamed, “NO!” There was murder in her eyes. “Fucking bitch!” She tried to climb over the rows of vampires below to get to Charlee but her entourage held her back. Charlee wasn’t sure why they prevented Callie from killing her; she was only a human. The claim couldn’t be that important.
Then she remembered what Anthony’s win meant. Callie couldn’t kill her because she was the queen and it would be off with her head.
Anthony’s sword fell with a loud clang in the stillness, and a sharp, unified gasp went up from the audience. Charlee turned in time to see Anthony stumble and fall.
Callie let out a peal of laughter. “Oh yes,” she bellowed from six rows up, “Your vampire got cut on Linus’s sword. Poison on the tip. One of the few that affects our kind. Guess you don’t get to be queen either.”
“I don’t want to be queen, bitch,” Charlee said. Then she thought better of it as she realized that if Anthony died, nothing would stop the crazed vampiress from descending on her.
“Go to him,” Paul said. “As his mate, your blood might save him.”
Charlee stood on shaking legs to make her way into the aisle.
“Wait!” Callie said, “You’ll be tied to him forev
er. Your life entwined with his will stop your aging. You hate him for doing this to you, don’t you?”
Charlee wasn’t sure if she hated him enough to let him die, but it was true she hadn’t asked for any of this, and she hated how he’d taken away all her choices.
Callie collected herself and was back to the elegant temptress, a mask which suited her far better than the hysterical loser. She slipped out of her row and descended the steps to calmly speak with Charlee, as if her spastic outburst hadn’t just taken place.
“This isn’t your concern, little human. No one wants a human queen. It will shame and undermine his reign. Let him die with dignity at least, and no harm will come to you. The claim will break, and we’ll let you go free.”
Charlee highly doubted that would be the case. Seeing her doubt, Callie lifted her voice to the crowd, the sound carrying farther than it should have out of such a tiny body.
“If Anthony dies, I have offered his little claimed human her freedom. Stand if you’ll support this decision.”
A murmur went through the crowd, and slowly, thousands of vampires rose to their feet. A door leading out of the stadium was less than ten yards from where Charlee stood. And beyond that, the circular lobby, and then the fresh air, and freedom on the other side. This entire nightmare could be over.
She started toward the door. Anthony was a monster; he’d likely killed thousands of people. He’d destroyed her life. She could walk away. No doubt someone from Cary Town’s finest organized troupe of vampires would find her and erase her memory. She wouldn’t have to carry this. Her life would be normal again. No vampires. Just a blissful, sweet ignorance.
Paul’s voice cut through the stillness. “How can you do this to him? He’s done nothing but thought of your safety. He shouldn’t have bothered.”