Selena
I couldn't stay for the rest of the show, hurrying down the aisle, rage pulsing through me. Every spectator I brushed past, I wanted to strangle, to bring them to their knees and make them pay.
Varick was hot on my heels as I made it outside, dragging down a lungful of air. The others weren't far behind and it took every ounce of self-control I had to keep my expression casual as I passed guard after guard on the street.
Back at the Troposphere, we travelled in silence upstairs, all six of us heading to mine and Varick's room without debate. The second the door was shut, I screamed.
Varick's arm slid around me and I kept my eyes pressed to his shirt as I fought to calm myself down.
“How did they get hold of them?” Cass asked, her voice tense. “They were dead-”
“Yeah and so were you,” Jameson said in a dark tone. “They gathered up their bodies and dragged them here to be punished.”
I lifted my head just as a loud thump sounded Cass punching a hole in the wall.
Ned ran a hand through his hair, the only one of us not to have removed our masks.
“We can't let them die.” I stepped away from Varick, looking between everyone. Cass nodded her support but the others glanced at each other with doubts in their eyes.
“We have to act now!” I insisted, marching to the wardrobe, ripping the door open and snatching out the red coat with the arsenic stitched into the collar. I slid my nail beneath it, searching.
My hair ruffled with air as Varick shot to my side, taking hold of my hand. “We can't, Selena. Not yet.”
I ground my teeth, looking up at him, pain scoring through my heart. “They're going to kill them. Torture them.”
Silence stretched through the air, frustrating me further.
“I'm not letting them die. Not again.” I looked up at Varick, his expression conflicted as he gazed down at me.
“We have no choice,” he said quietly, speaking only to me. “I'm sorry.” He reached for my cheek and I smacked his hand away, stepping back.
Ned folded his arms. “If you didn't know who they were, you wouldn't care so much.”
My throat constricted at his words and shame washed through me. “Of course I'd care,” I said in a small voice. “But this is different...they're going to die because of me.”
Ned tutted. “So now you want to risk our entire plan? Just because you know some of the contestants?”
“I have to do something,” I snapped. I looked to Cass, the only one of them siding with me. “You'll help?”
She set her jaw. “Of course.”
Jameson floated to her side, shaking his head. “Nope. Not happening.”
“We're rescuing them,” I bit at him, furious. “How can you all be so heartless?”
“It's not a case of being heartless, sweetheart,” Varick said softly.
“Don't sweetheart me,” I snapped, glaring at him. “What if it was one of us down there? It might as well be!”
Varick fell silent, his eyes swivelling to Jameson again.
I threw up my hands in anger, heading to the bathroom. As I entered, my heart launched into my throat.
A maid stood there, her mouth agape, a ball of wet towels clamped in her hand, her face drained of colour.
“Get back!” she screeched, trying to dart past me.
I threw my arms out to catch her, crying out to the others as she escaped my hold, dropping the towels as she fled.
“Varick!” I screamed, chasing after her.
Varick had her braced against him in seconds, his hand clamped over her mouth. Tears streamed down her face as she trembled in his arms.
“Shit,” Jameson breathed.
Ned had both of his hands on his head, gazing at the maid in horror.
“What do we do?” I asked.
“We'll Charm her,” Varick said quickly, turning the maid and taking hold of her chin so she was forced to look into his eyes. “Calm,” he commanded and she fell still, gazing dreamily up at him. “You saw no one in this room. You heard nothing. You replaced towels and moved to the next room, understand?”
She nodded. “The next room,” she echoed.
My heart rate began to settle.
“Good.” He released her and I hurried to gather up the dirty bath towels, handing them to her as she headed into the hall. She dumped them in a trolley outside before moving on to the next room.
The air left me as Varick shut the door, pressing his back to it.
“Hell, didn't one of you smell her?” Ned demanded, looking between Cass, Varick and Jameson.
“This whole place smells like people,” Jameson snapped. “So our spidey senses are a little off, alright?”
Varick ran a palm over his face, taking a breath.
“We have to be more careful,” Ned insisted.
“You're right,” Varick sighed, dropping his hand. “We shouldn't even be talking about this. We stick to the plan. End of discussion.” He gave me a hard stare as he opened the door, gesturing for the others to leave.
As Jameson passed, he muttered something in his ear I couldn't catch, only making my temper rise further.
The door clicked shut and I lifted my chin, trying not to give in to the small flutter of nerves running through me at Varick's fierce expression.
“We do this how we planned, on the last day, when we can poison the spectators all at once,” he spoke in a low tone, moving closer to me at a slow pace. “There is no other way. We make a mistake and this whole thing fails.”
“I can't watch them die again.” Pain flared in my voice and I despised how weak I sounded. I turned away, not wanting Varick to see the emotion in my eyes.
How could I just let them die? I had another chance to save them, something I simply couldn't pass up.
“Jameson is concerned that this is a trap,” Varick revealed and I felt the heat of his body radiating from behind me.
I remained silent, waiting for him to elaborate.
He ran a piece of my hair through his fingers as he spoke. “The Helsings no doubt want to draw Brendan's spies out from hiding. They know we have a connection with him now.”
I frowned. “You think the Helsings know about Brendan's spies?”
“After what happened at the last game, I'm sure they will suspect someone's infiltrated them.”
I sighed, a shudder running through my body.
I chewed my lip as I thought over my next move. “I won't do anything rash,” I agreed and Varick's expression softened. “But...if I get a chance to save them, I will.”
I stared determinedly up at Varick but there was no surrender in his eyes. “Just do as I say,” his tone was cutting and I fought the urge to flinch, holding my own.
“I'll do what I think is right,” I snarled.
He grabbed hold of my waist, keeping me in place before I could escape. “What you think is right will get you killed!”
My heart broke in two at his words. I'd do anything to take back the part I'd played in their deaths. “I'd rather die doing what's right, than stay alive as a coward.”
“A coward? Do you even hear yourself?” He shook me a little and I refused to let his intensity cut through me. “You're already sacrificing everything to be here. Please don't throw away the only chance we have because of those girls. They're already dead.”
I jerked out of his hold and he let me go, my heart sinking into the pit of my stomach. “How can you talk about them as if they don't matter? They're Vs. Like you. They're as alive as you are.”
He sighed, rubbing his eyes before attempting to approach me again. I retreated, my legs hitting the bed post, halting me.
“They do matter,” he admitted. “But saving them will be the end of us. Saving them doesn't stop the games or the Helsings. We have to look at the bigger picture, Selena. They are going to die here in this game, whether we like it or not. It's already done.”
Tears slid down my cheeks and I hurriedly rubbed them away, angry with myself. I longed to have his self-control. To be able to make a decision based on logic and nothing else. But my heart was beating out of sync, demanding I do something to help the girls I couldn't save before.
For now, I had to give in. Varick reached out, sliding his arms around me until I succumbed to his scent, the press of his shirt against my cheek and the slow beat of his heart in my ear.
Varick snapped his head toward the door just before a knock sounded. He released me, tying on his mask as he crossed the room. He waited for me to get mine in place before opening the door, revealing a man in a white shirt and trousers, holding a bucket with a champagne bottle in it.
“Sorry to disturb you sir, but one of our CCTV crew noticed you leaving the arena before the show had finished. We of course don't like to intrude, but as two of our golden ticket holders we take it upon ourselves to ensure everything is to your satisfaction. Was there something we could have rectified in the show to maintain your interest?”
Varick leant an arm against the door, blocking the man's way in case he tried to come in. “None at all,” he said calmly. “My wife and I had a small disagreement, that's all.”
“Oh dear, I do hope everything's been resolved?” He shot a glance under Varick's arm in my direction.
I gave him a polite smile, wiping the remaining tear stains from my cheeks, using them to sell the lie.
“We'd like to offer you this bottle of Bolinger to improve your day. Where shall I set it down?”
Varick plucked the bucket from his hands, not letting him in. “That's kind of you.”
“Oh and Rockley Jones has a table booked at the Parision for your lunch together at one o'clock.”
“Excuse me?” Varick balked.
“Your lunch, sir?” The man looked between us, confused. “It was in your itinerary, on your tablets. As golden ticket holders, you have the honour of dining with the owner of the resort.”
My lungs wouldn't take in air as I absorbed his words.
“We don't want to intrude-” I tried but the man waved me down.
“It is an honour for Mr Jones, ma'am. He will be delighted to entertain you.”
“I...of course,” I said brightly, my throat constricting with trepidation.
“Thank you,” Varick said tersely, closing the door on him. “Christ.” He scraped a hand through his hair, turning to me.
My gut spiralled with worry. How on earth were we going to fake our way through lunch with the man who ran this place?
◐ ☼ ◐
Rockley Jones hadn't just booked a table for lunch, he'd reserved an entire glass balcony that hung above a huge casino. The air was cool and oxygenated – presumably to keep the spectators wide awake so they'd continue gambling. I certainly didn't need any help keeping awake in this place.
As we ascended the glass stairs onto the balcony, I spotted Rockley leaning back in a large red chair, his white shirt buttoned up halfway, revealing the dark tattoos that seemed to cover every inch of his body, even down to his hands. Rings, bracelets, and gold necklaces were draped over him like he was a human jewellery display.
One huge gold hoop hung from his ear, visible now that his dreadlocks were tied into a knot atop his head. He smiled as we approached, but didn't stand. I gazed around the table, noticing it was set for six. I automatically adjusted my mask as a waiter pulled out a seat for me. I muttered my thanks, gazing at Rockley, waiting for him to speak, my heart in my throat.
He nodded to a waiter who immediately offered us drinks.
“Just water,” I said and Varick nodded his agreement.
“Oh come now, surely you'll have a drink wid me?” Rockley gazed at us with an encouraging grin.
“My husband is T-total,” I lied quickly, taking Varick's hand. “I tend to follow suit to show my support.”
“T-total?” Rockley rolled the word across his tongue, his eyes on Varick. “Den surely you won't deny your wife de pleasure of a drink dis one time?”
“Of course not,” Varick said, releasing my hand with an easy smile.
I mirrored it as a waiter placed down a glass of water in front of him and turned to take my order.
“Perhaps you'll give me de honour of ordering a drink for you?” Rockley asked, mischief in his golden eyes.
I hesitated before saying, “Go ahead.”
A waiter bowed his head so Rockley could whisper the order in his ear, and he hurried away toward a bar at the far end of the balcony.
“Who else is accompanying us?” Varick inquired, gesturing to the other place-mats.
“De Helsings,” Rockley announced like it was a special treat for us.
My heart froze.
I could feel the blood draining from my face one drop at a time. Mask or not, Abraham and Katherine would recognise us up close. There was no way we could disguise ourselves. Varick had worked for them for nearly two centuries, they'd know his voice even if they didn't know him to look at.
Rockley evidently sensed our unrest as he added, “Dont be nervous, de Helsings are good people. Dey love to meet dere fans.”
“We wouldn't want to intrude on their busy day,” Varick said, resting a hand on my bouncing knee.
“Not at all.” Rockley raised his arms wide in greeting and my eyes wheeled in the direction of the staircase.
Mercy hurried toward us in a wrap-around blue dress. She seemed a little out of breath as she moved at speed on sky-scraper heels. Keeping one step behind her, was Kite.
“Sorry I'm late.” Mercy dropped into a seat opposite us, avoiding our gaze, keeping her eyes pinned on Rockley. “I'm afraid my parents can't come, they have some business to attend to.” She looked to Varick at last, her mouth parting silently as she took him in.
Relief swept through me.
“Oh dat is a shame.” Rockley frowned, his eyes falling on Kite who was standing behind Mercy, her eyes downcast. “Much as I admire your family's ability to train de Vs...I'd rather it stood away from our table whilst we ate.”
Mercy turned, wafting Kite away like she was an obedient dog. Kite complied, backing up to the railing and turning to look down over the casino. I longed to speak with her, to make sure everything was going to plan, that the Helsings suspected nothing. But I didn't know if I'd ever get the chance.
Seemingly satisfied, Rockley ordered a drink for Mercy before saying, “Excuse my manners, Miss Helsing. This be two of my golden ticket holders, under de names Night and Day.”
“Ah, of course,” Mercy said brightly. “You mentioned them earlier, I think, when you invited my family.” She gave us a brief glance and I guessed that meant she'd saved us from her parents' company somehow.
I reached a hand across the table and Mercy took it, her palm sweaty against mine. “Pleased to meet you,” she said, before offering her hand to Varick.
The waiter returned with our drinks, placing down a clear, fizzing martini with a shot of thick, red liquid beside it.
“I call dis a V Bomb,” Rockley chuckled, picking up the shot and tipping the gloopy liquid into the martini glass.
“V blood?” I guessed, my heart twisting in my chest. I couldn't exactly turn down the drink when it was sitting right in front of me.
“Of course. De only good thing about Vs. Dere blood provides perfect health to anyone who drinks it.”
“I know,” I said, taking the shot and tipping it into my glass.
“You do?” Rockley inquired.
“I've heard so,” I said quickly, smiling before taking a sip of my martini. It was bitter and citrusy, overriding the metallic flavour of the blood. Sugar laced the rim of the glass, taking away the bite of the drink as it went down.
“You like?” Rockley was watching my reaction intently.
“It's...unusual,” I said honestly. “How do you get the V blood? Aren't they feral?”
“We have dem under control.”
“How so?” I pressed, figuring the more information we had about this place, the better.
Rockley leaned forward like he was about to tell us a secret. “Those dat do not follow orders...” He ran his finger along his throat and I wrinkled my nose, sitting back in my seat.
Rockley laughed, looking to Varick. “Your wife is squeamish for such a place, yes?”
“She's tougher than she looks.” Varick squeezed my knee and I laughed lightly. I despised Rockley much more than I could ever hate a hungry V. They were forced to kill the same way the contestants were forced to run.
“What's going to happen to the girls you brought back from the old Helsing games?” I asked, needing to know.
Mercy cleared her throat as if I'd offended her in some way.
She answered before Rockley could, “We will have our revenge on them. Those girls helped Selena Grey become what she is today.”
“And what's that?” I asked, unable to tell if Mercy's words were an act or not.
“A problem,” she said simply. “She's the kind of girl who gets people to rally around her. Even Vs apparently.” Her eyes darted to Varick and back. Was she mocking us?
“De girl is long gone, Mercy.” Rockley waved a hand as if the subject didn't interest him.
“My parents think otherwise.” Mercy turned to him and my heart rate elevated. Was she giving us information? Or was she threatening us? “That's why they gifted you the girls. Turned them into Vs for your games.”
Rockley finished his drink in a long slurp. “And what is da purpose of dat beyond revenge?”
Mercy's baby blue eyes halted on Varick. “Because they suspect she's going to turn up here.”
Rockley laughed loudly, but he was the only one to do so.
My heart beat harder.
“And how would de girl do such a thing?” Rockley continued to laugh. “I have already upped security here. De girl is not a ghost, Miss Helsing. She cannot walk through fences and walls. Are you really so afraid of her?”
“She's done the impossible before,” Mercy said quietly, then added, “But of course I don't believe she could get past your security, Mr Jones.”
“Den what are we all worrying about? Your parents will have their fun punishing Grey's friends and we'll all go home happy.” He gestured for the waiter to bring him another martini.
“So tell me,” Varick addressed Rockley. “I've not been to your resort before, how do the games work here? Is there a contest?”
“No contest, no,” Rockley confirmed. “Each event is designed to explore de many faceted ways in which death can be...indulged in.” His golden eyes glimmered with something akin to lust.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. It felt as though the icy room had dropped another ten degrees.
“Indulged in?” I echoed.
“Money and death go hand in hand,” Rockley purred as a waiter placed down his martini. He took his time dribbling the V blood into its fizzing depths so it spiralled like ink to the bottom of the glass. “I cater to those who can afford death as a commodity.”
“In what sense?” I asked.
Rockley leant back in his chair, taking a long sip of his drink as he considered his answer. “My games are for de spectators. Each offers a unique opportunity to gamble and win a fortune. But the only way to win, is to truly know death. To look into a victim's eyes and bet how long they will live under certain...conditions.”
My stomach turned as I gazed into the face of pure evil, making my own silent bet on his life.
You won't live beyond the final day of this game, Rockley Jones.
Mercy cleared her throat, drawing all attention back to her.
“Have the events started?” she asked as a waitress handed out menus.
Rockley checked his watch. “Yes, you'll find all de events on your tablets. De evening show is always held at eight o'clock, after dinner. I encourage all my guests to attend dat one.” He gave us a pointed look. “I do hope I will keep your attention long enough dis time.”
I sensed an edge to his tone and knew we'd insulted him by walking out during the opening ceremony.
“It won't happen again,” Varick confirmed, his hand encasing mine.
“If dere are any improvements you'd like me to make? Perhaps a certain type of kill you'd like to see?”
“I'm sure you know best,” I said with a smile.
Rockley beamed, seeming to relax as he thumbed through his menu. I glanced at Varick, fearing how we were going to disguise his lack of eating.
“There is a hands-on event soon, isn't there?” Varick questioned, taking out his tablet. “In the Brystkasse?” He gestured to the building on the map shaped like a split open ribcage.
“Yes,” Rockley confirmed. “Did you want to be dere?”
Varick looked to me and I could see he was trying to avoid facing the meal. “Well...my wife wouldn't enjoy that one I don't believe.”
Rockley spread his arms wide. “Go my friend, I'll keep the women company. What host am I if I deny the desires of my guests?”
Varick stood, bending to place a kiss on my cheek. “Meet me at the hotel room when you're done,” he murmured in my ear. I nodded, watching him go until he was out of sight.
“Now,” Rockley lowered his tone, giving us both a wicked grin. “Let's eat.”