They wanted to remove her from my protection.
They wanted to tie my hands so they could make her suffer without repercussions.
Dick shook his head and smiled like my existence amused him.
He grabbed a stack of folders off his desk and said, “Glad we could have this talk. The paperwork regarding your duties will be sent to your office. The High Court is constructing the stadium on the west side of the island as we speak. The games will start in a week.”
“No,” I repeated with more force. “I will not do this.”
I might as well have been talking to the wall.
Dick kept talking. “Failure to take part in the Legionnaire Games will result in immediate extermination procedures for each person who disobeys. Disobey, interfere, or meddle in circumstances above your pay grade, and your daughter will be named enemy number one. Classification: kill on sight.”
We both knew what circumstances he was insinuating.
As he stared me down, his lips flattened into a straight line. Twenty-four years ago he’d positioned me neatly into his spiderweb of lies. Until recently, I’d had no idea just how entangled it all was.
“You’ve lied to me from the beginning,” I said. “No more.”
Dick twirled his fountain pen faster until it was nothing but a blur. His stare was hard. Uncompromising. “The truth changes nothing. Why do you care?”
“I care”—my jaw cracked as I narrowed my eyes, unsure which of the lies he was referring to—“because it’s my fucking daughter.”
He rested his head back on his fancy leather headrest. “Exactly. For now, your daughter is alive and healthy. What’s the problem?”
For now.
Nothing he said was ever an accident.
I didn’t like this.
Dick continued calmly, “I will send you the paperwork for the Legionnaire Games. Please read through the clause on page three about interactions with competitors. Familiarize yourself with it.”
“Stop.” I gritted my teeth. “Stop talking like I have no say.”
“But, Lothaire?” Dick furrowed his brows. “You have no choice.”
“Screw you.”
He leaned forward in his chair and said sharply, “We’re on the same side. Don’t forget what we’re fighting against. Do you want another massacre on your conscience? Because this one won’t have any survivors if we don’t act.”
He stared at me.
In the darkness of his eyes, I saw the ungodly ripping apart a realm.
“I hope,” I said quietly, “that you die painfully and get shanked up the ass.”
Dick beamed like I’d complimented him. “The gods appreciate your service. Such delightful wit. I’ll be seeing you soon.”
He stood up and lunged across his desk to pat my face condescendingly. His fingers were so cold the tips smoked with blue flames. Pain screamed along my nerve endings.
Wrenching away from him, I activated the RJE device, and the world exploded as I flung myself through the universe to escape his presence.
I was alone in my quarters at the academy.
Staring at the mirror on the wall, I pressed my fingers against my unmarked cheek. Ripping my gaze away, I staggered onto my knees and collapsed.
I was pinned by my thoughts: Arabella’s enslavement, the Legionnaire Games, Dick’s secrets, and the endless capacity of the gods to manipulate and ruin the lives of men.
I opened my mouth, and no sound came out.
Inside I screamed.
Chapter 6
Aran
HIM
The beginning: Shackles—Day 5, hour 2
The bed was too squishy.
I sank into the soft feathers like the mattress was consuming me. Somehow, slavery was the least of my problems.
I pretended I was drowning.
It was fun. Kind of.
Lothaire still hadn’t come back, and the room still vibrated with noises from the party. After Orion had murdered my dance partner and dragged me back to the room （he was clearly having an episode） I’d fallen into a nightmare-filled sleep.
When I’d woken up, all the blinds were open, and the room glowed with red light.
The brightness burned my corneas.
I missed the dark.
John’s empty bed mocked me, and my stomach was in knots of worry. I hadn’t seen him since he’d been tied up and Lothaire had taken me to get tattooed. When we’d RJE’d back to the classroom, he and the demons had been gone.
I’d finished smoking the joint from the party hours ago, and the drug had worked its way out of my system. My pipe wasn’t doing much to help, because panic had returned.
I avoided looking over at Horace’s empty bed.
Smoke poured from my lips, and it made my skin tingle as it rubbed against the bleeding cut on my lower lip.
Turning my head, I stared up at the enchanted black hole swirling across the ceiling.
Someone had started the fire in the hearth, and the voices screamed at me in the flames.
My eyes itched from smoke exposure.
I sucked harder on the pipe.
My brain kept looping back to the same thought pattern: I was a grim reaper in a woman’s body.
It was obvious what was happening. I needed a shopping trip.
My body was crumbling under the stress of not being able to buy pretty clothes. I was degrading on a cellular level.
I could barely remember the rush that accompanied purchasing gorgeous shoes. I pinched my hand to ground myself as I became hyperaware of the fact that I’d been wearing the same sweat suit for weeks on end.
“This place is trying to kill me,” I said to Horse as he flapped above like he was trying to teach me how to fly.
Poor demented creature. He reminded me of my best friend Sadie.
The wall against my bed vibrated to a heavy beat and shook my headboard.
I rocked with it.
Muffled music echoed down the halls.
Across the quiet bedroom, three devils softly snored and were, unfortunately, still alive. Although, I didn’t know how they were still asleep. It wasn’t healthy.
They slept in a pile of limbs. After Malum had had a tantrum and fought the wall （he’d lost）， the three of them had climbed into the small bed and promptly passed out.
I shivered. Men were such simple, primitive creatures.
The grand clock on the wall ticked. In a feat of pure mental strength, I stopped myself from clicking my tongue back at it.
While my slavers had been sleeping, I’d been wide awake still losing my mind.
At least the screaming voices in the fire had returned. I’d missed them.
I’d also established a little routine.
I stared at the stain on the floor, wallowed in silence, stared at the ceiling, dragged my nails across the wall like a rabid animal trying to escape a cage, pretended to be in a coma, stared at the clean sheets on Horace’s bed （RIP）， hyperventilated, then danced to the music. Repeat.
Structure was good.
My vision blurred, and with a heavy sigh, I decided it was finally time to do something productive.
I rolled over.
Then I positioned myself so my head was hanging upside down as I smoked. A nice changeup.
The devils snored.
The room was upside down.
I counted how long I could go without blinking.
Fourteen minutes and five seconds. Six seconds. Seven seconds.
Time flew by.
The world was shadowy.
BANG, the door was flung open.
I groaned as I lost count. Now I’d have to start over.