Selena
All at once, the memories of my kidnap flooded me. I gasped awake, sitting bolt upright, my brain rattling inside my skull. A pounding headache accompanied the sensation and I groaned, shutting my eyes for a few seconds to centre myself.
Where was I? This place was warm, dry...different. I was no longer on the yacht, I was certain.
Opening my eyes, I found myself on a bed of hay, the needles prodding me sharply through my clothes. A soft, amber light filled the air and a haze of dust motes floated lazily over me. It reminded me of a stable, the walls wooden, a single door before me. I lunged toward it, but was immediately yanked backwards by a shackle bolted around my ankle.
Glancing down, I frowned at the clothes I was wearing. A black gown was tethered onto my torso like a corset with swathes of satin hanging over my feet. Beneath them was a thick pair of woollen tights and heavy, army-style boots.
My pulse rose.
What was this?
What was happening?
I ran a hand into my hair – it was like silk. I grabbed a handful, dragging it beneath my nose. It was freshly washed, the scent of lavender clinging to me.
I scrambled to my feet, walking to the end of my tether. If I leant forward far enough, I could reach the door. I counted the steps it took. One. Two. Three. Four.
I banged my fist on the wood. “Hello?” I shouted.
No answer.
I gathered my thoughts, taking a slow, calming breath. I walked as far as possible in each direction, finding I could reach the left wall but not the right.
Although this place was infinitely more welcoming than the yacht, I felt no less a prisoner. And something about the pressing silence was the most unnerving thing of all. I'd rather have been back in my prison cell with Cass, dreaming up ways to escape, plotting idle revenge on Kite.
This wasn't happening. It couldn't be.
“Hello?!” I screamed louder, my voice hoarse.
“Selena?”
“Cass?” I gasped in utter relief, falling to my knees, pressing my cheek to the hay to try and see under the door. There was a small crack but only wooden floorboards were visible beyond it.
“Is that you?”
“Yes...where are we?” Her voice was trembling and it was so unlike Cass that it made my blood turn to ice. If she was afraid, then I definitely should be. Nothing about this felt right.
“I don't know. We were on a boat. Now we're here. I saw the inspector.”
Cass inhaled sharply. She sounded close, perhaps in the room next to mine. I banged my fist on the wall I was able to reach. “Are you in here?”
“Yes.” Her fist hammered back.
I laid my palm flat against it, drawing comfort from her presence.
“Thank god you're here,” I sighed, my shoulders dropping.
“Can't say I feel the same,” she said dryly, sarcastic even now.
I dropped back onto my heels, eyeing the space for anything I could use as a weapon.
Footsteps sounded beyond my stable-like prison and I fell still, listening. My heart beat a frantic rhythm against my ribcage.
“Selena?” Cass whispered, just loud enough for me to catch it.
“What?” I questioned, not bothering to lower my voice. Whoever was out there already knew we were here. There was no point denying it.
“I think we're in trouble.”
My door swung open and I found myself gazing up at Varick, his eyes dropping onto me like two dark marbles. I despised feeling small. My stepfather made me feel that way.
My instincts kicked in and I sprang to my feet, raising my fists.
Varick's mouth twisted up at the corners. “How many times are we going to go through this, Selena?”
Why was it that every time he said my name, it felt like something intimate? Like he was running his tongue over my skin, tasting me. I shuddered at the memory of his mouth on my neck. What had he been going to do? Bite me? Perhaps he really was as screwed up as he seemed.
I tightened my fists, planting my feet. I might have looked stupid, but I'd rather have taken a swing at this guy and failed, than not fight at all.
He strolled towards me, offering me his cheek. “Free shot.”
I raised my brows, shuffling forward so I was closer to him. But not too close.
“Why?” I found my voice and the sound of a body shifted beyond the wall. Cass, no doubt listening to our every word. She was probably confused as hell by what she was hearing.
“Because I clearly still have a point to make with you.” His eyes skimmed down to the dress I was wearing, dropping to my feet where the boots were concealed beneath the skirt. As he surveyed me, I tried not to show my fear, but my trembling hands must have given it away. When his gaze grew hungry, a surge of defiance took over me and I took him up on his offer.
I swung my arm, smacking my knuckles against his proffered cheek. My bones crunched against his damn cheekbone like it was cut from glass. Pain rocketed up my arm and I clutched it to my chest, fighting back the scream of pain that was raking at my throat.
“Ffff-” I bit down on my tongue.
Varick threw back his head, barking a laugh. He reached for me and I stumbled back to escape. When his hands encircled my waist, I remembered to fight. Screaming and kicking, he lifted me as easily as if I were embracing him and bent down, yanking at the cuff around my ankle so it broke off. My mind could barely process the strength it must have taken for him to do such a thing.
Keeping me over his shoulder, he walked me calmly from my cell. In comparison to him, I was an emotional wreck; a flightless bird being carried off to the chopping block. But I couldn't give up. Wherever this man was taking me, was nowhere I wanted to go.
Determined not to give up, I twisted around and slashed my nails across Varick's face. With a gasp, I noticed not a single mark had been left on his skin. In fact, my nails were broken, shredded like I'd just used a razor blade as a nail file.
“What...” I fell still in his arms, my body involuntarily beginning to tremble. “What are you?” I managed.
Varick adjusted the slim, black bandanna in his long, unruly hair (the only thing I'd managed to disrupt in his appearance) and continued walking without a word.
Cass's panicked cries carried to my ears and I clambered up Varick's rock-hard shoulders, gazing down the corridor of cobblestones. Rows of wooden doors lined the walls, the place lit by large bulbs hanging from the ceiling.
“I'm okay!” I called in an attempt to comfort her and she fell silent.
“I deserve an explanation,” I spat at Varick and was happy when saliva sprayed over his face. Maybe I couldn't hurt him, but I could certainly show him I wasn't yet ready to give up fighting.
He ran a thumb down his cheek to wipe the trickle away, then placed it directly into his mouth. I gasped, leaning away from him in disgust.
“I'm banking on you surviving, Selena. Those mongrels out in the field won't savour you. It'd be such a waste.” He eyed me thoughtfully as he headed toward a wide, metal door, then tucked me under one arm like a damn handbag.
My heartbeat thundered in my ears. “Surviving what?”
He smirked at me, but offered no further explanation as he shouldered through the door and dropped me to the floor.
My knees crashed into stone, but the woollen tights beneath my dress saved the skin from splitting open. As I glanced up, I inhaled hard at the sight before me. More than twenty girls stood in a row, none much older than me by the looks of them; they were all dressed in floor-length gowns, ranging from crystal blue to shimmering gold. We were in a square tower, rising up toward a dark ceiling. High above, sat in several rows, were people in dark suits, each with a shining white mask over their face.
The girls cowered before them, clutching each other's arms. But one amongst them caught my eye; a girl in a glittering blue gown, navy like the night sky. Her ebony hair was lifted into her usual ponytail and the single tear-drop tattoo sat beneath her eye. Kite looked fierce, ready to take on the whole world if that's what it would take to survive.
Though it was hard to tell, I sensed the eyes behind the eerie, faceless masks watching me and quickly rose to my feet.
A hard push to my spine reminded me of Varick's presence and I struggled to keep my balance as I moved to join the girls. He remained close, his breath cool on the bare skin of my shoulder. “Don't cause trouble.”
I glared back at him, but my lower lip trembled, betraying my fear. The girl nearest to me with short blonde hair and a rounded nose shot me a warning look, so perhaps I had faked my confidence better than I'd realised.
“Fetch the last,” a deep male voice rang down from the circle of people above. I tried to place the one speaking, but the crowd were statuesque.
“As you wish,” Varick said simply, marching from the room in the direction we'd just come.
“That one's from the new shipment,” a voice spoke and I recognised him as the boy from the yacht: Ignus. “Varick has his eye on her, father.”
I spotted a mask turning to face Ignus and pinned my gaze on the two of them.
“Is that so?” the man replied.
Many of the crowd leaned forward in their chairs, peering down at me through the eyeholes in their masks. I felt naked before them and an icy feeling tracked down my spine.
Varick returned, dragging Cass by the arm. She wore a dress of green velvet with silver buttons up the bust. She seemed paler than ever as Varick pushed her toward me. We moved to meet each other and I wrapped her in my arms, her body shaking in my hold.
Cass pulled away, but kept her arm linked through mine which comforted me much more than she could ever have known. I glanced along the line of girls. Their faces were gaunt; red cuff marks and bruises lined their wrists. They'd certainly been here longer than Cass, Kite and I. Everything in their bodies spoke of prolonged mistreatment.
“Why are we here?” I blurted, focusing my gaze on Ignus, hoping he remembered me. What good it would do, I had no idea. But it was better than focusing on the faceless masses around him.
He stiffened in his seat, his fingers curling over the arms of his chair. “You are about to be part of an age-old tradition, Selena.”
My name from his lips took me by surprise. I squinted up at him, instinctively stepping forward. A hand rested on my stomach, pressing me back with ease. Varick's dark eyes blazed at me in my periphery, but I kept my gaze on Ignus. Despite my fear, I knew I needed information, it was the only way I could start working on a plan to escape.
Many of the girls shuffled into one another, muttering quietly, my question evidently sparking their own curiosity.
“Silence!” Varick barked, stepping away from me. Some of the girls whimpered, huddling tighter together.
I flinched, but remained rooted to the spot, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing me recoil. Cass moved closer to me so our shoulders rubbed, clearly trying to move as far away from Varick as she could.
Ignus's father whispered something into his ear and I waited impatiently for my explanation. The onlookers made me uncomfortable and I bit my tongue on pressing them for answers. Luckily, I didn't have to as Kite spoke up.
“We have a right to know! You've kidnapped us and now you expect us to participate in some tradition? Well you're wrong.” Kite pressed her shoulders back, looking as confident as if she were often kidnapped and laid out before an audience of creeps.
A titter of male laughter sounded throughout the room and my blood ran hot. Kite, on the other hand, looked ready to murder them all.
Varick shifted forward and I side-stepped to avoid him. As I moved, the clink of metal drew my attention to my ankle. Subtly hitching up my skirt, I discovered part of the shackle still remained intact, hanging from a piece of chain. It looked sharp. It could certainly do some damage.
“What do you want from us?” a girl in turquoise called to the crowd, digging her nails into her arms.
Varick's eyes appeared to measure every inch of her. He was surely assessing us, his gaze swinging from one girl to the next. My heart quickened as he focused on me. My fingers twitched as I thought of the weapon at my ankle. Somehow, he seemed to notice, his gaze following mine to the floor. All at once, he came at me, and simultaneously, I ducked down.
Miraculously, I had the jagged piece of metal clamped in my hand within seconds. But Varick was already upon me. I acted on instinct alone. Lunging upwards, I twisted my arm and swung it towards Varick's neck, a scream of defiance ripping from my lungs.
He caught my wrist just as the tip met his skin and a collective gasp sounded around the room, like air sucked through a vent. The sharp end of the metal pressed hard into his jugular, but not even a scratch appeared beneath it. I couldn't quite believe what I'd done and had the terrifying feeling that I'd just made things a whole lot worse for myself.
Varick's grip was iron, squeezing so hard that the metal slipped from my hand, dropping to the floor with a clang that echoed into the silence for an eternity.
“What did I say about trouble?” Varick snarled, so low that I was sure only I could hear.
I was frozen in his deadly gaze, trying not to wince as his fingers crushed my wrist. I lost the battle, my eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Better get used to pain, Grey.” There was no amusement in his expression this time.
“Already am,” I breathed and his brow lifted a fraction. This man would not get the better of me. And neither would any of the other cowards hiding behind those masks.
During our spat, the level of noise had risen around the room; the crowd above were now talking in low, excited voices and the girls were whispering in frantic tones.
It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who they were talking about. I shuffled back in to line, trying not to draw any more attention to myself than I already had.
“Enough talk,” Ignus's father commanded, standing. Even from here I could tell he was an imposing man, his shoulders wide and his muscular chest nearly busting out of his shirt. “My name is Abraham Van Helsing, and each of you now belong to me.”
“Ha,” Kite spat and the girls murmured their discontent, spurred on by her defiance. I remained resolutely silent as Cass's fingernails dug into my arm.
“Varick.” Abraham jutted his chin at the row of girls. “Prepare them.”
Varick nodded, marching down the line. When he spoke, his voice rang out across the room, “You will be spending the night out on the island. Each of you will be armed to face the Vs.”
“The what?” hissed the girl in pink next to me, her thick brows drawing together. No one answered her, which only caused more of a panic.
“Leave,” Abraham ordered and I glanced up, wondering who he was talking to. My question was soon answered as the masked crowd began filing out of the room through a white door.
The other girls and I were left at the mercy of Varick. But twenty five against one seemed like good odds to me.
He marched past us, pushing everyone into a line. I hurriedly took up position at the end of it, not wanting him to touch me again. Varick stood before us, placing his hands behind his back.
A door opened and a man in white overalls wheeled in a trolley covered with a crimson sheet. He bowed his head to Varick before departing and the tell-tale sound of a lock clicked as he shut the door.
Varick moved to the trolley, whipping off the sheet in a fluid movement. Mutters broke out amongst the girls as we took in the implements laid out on it. White, wooden stakes, twenty five in total, all standing on their ends in rows.
My instincts screamed at me to get out of here. From everything I'd learnt so far, I was certain I didn't want to find out what 'Vs' were. And I definitely didn't want to spend a night out on some island.
“A Vampire can only be killed with white oak. Just a splinter driven into the skin can cause immeasurable pain.” Varick took a stake in his palm, shifting it from side to side.
“Vampires?” an auburn-haired girl questioned him in a small voice. She was the slimmest of the group, her yellow dress barely held in place over her non-existent cleavage.
I was equally shocked by the term; some of the girls even broke hesitant smiles like they were hoping this was all some twisted joke. I wasn't so optimistic.
Varick rushed towards the girl who had spoken at an impossible speed, dragging her hair back in his fist to expose her neck. “Who would like proof?” he addressed the rest of us and my heart lurched in my chest. What on earth was he planning to do?
I thought of the yacht and of how Varick had pressed his mouth to my neck. How he'd seemed so...hungry. Lifting a palm, I traced my fingers over my throat, at war with myself over what to believe.
“Leave her alone!” A girl with copper skin and a bob of dark curls tugged at his arm, but he either didn't notice or didn't care.
Varick lowered his mouth to the girl's neck and I was certain not one person in the room could deny the sight of his sharp, perfectly pointed canines, ready to pierce her olive-tan neck.
“Stop! Marie- move!” her friend pleaded in her French accent.
The girl in Varick's arms, evidently Marie, seemed under some trance, gazing up at Varick with unfocused, dreamy eyes.
Varick dropped her and she fell to the ground in swathes of yellow silk as her dress caught around her legs.
“I'm fine, Briony,” Marie murmured as the other girl fell to her side, hugging her close so the gold of her dress tangled with the yellow of the other's.
In their distraction, I'd backed up closer to the trolley. Vampire or not, those stakes looked sharp. And leaving them unattended was a foolish move, especially if all twenty five of us stuck together.
I subtly picked one up, clamping the cool, rounded bark between my fist. Varick's eyes flashed to mine and a smile curved his mouth.
“My little rebel,” he remarked, rushing toward me in a blur of movement. He paused inches from my face and I found his hand already curled around my wrist. “Like this, Grey.” He angled the sharp point between his ribs and to the left. No matter how hard I pushed, it wouldn't budge, but I still clenched my teeth and shoved harder.
“Selena,” Cass gasped in warning and I eased my grip, losing my nerve.
“They're weaker than me,” he murmured. “You'll manage.” He moistened his lips and I shrank away.
Plucking the stake from my grip, Varick turned back to the room, leaving me unattended with the trolley again. “Selena, be a good girl and pass out the weapons.”
My eyebrows lifted as I complied, happy to arm everyone in the room. If we all worked together, surely we could take down Varick?
As I met the eyes of each girl, I grew less and less hopeful of my plan. There was fight in their eyes, but fear was staying their hands.
Kite snatched a stake from my fist before I could pass her one. Her upper lip twitched as she recognised me, but she said nothing.
After Varick had shown each of us the weak spot on his body, he marched away, wrenching open the door across from us. The word Vampire circled in my head. It couldn't be true. Surely? But the inhuman way Varick moved, his strength, his teeth...I just didn't know if I could deny it any longer.
“We have to get out of here,” Cass whispered to me as Varick gestured for everyone to go through.
I nodded stiffly, but had no solid plan to offer at that moment. As we followed the line of girls toward the door, I hesitated.
“Tell us the truth,” I pleaded of Varick. “Do any of us have a chance of walking back through that door?”
Varick didn't answer and more of the girls filed past him, keeping close together. He caught my arm as I approached and I shuddered from his touch.
“You have a chance,” he confirmed. “And I'm hungry as hell, so I'd appreciate the effort.”
My upper lip curled back. “So even if I survive, you'll kill me anyway?”
“No...the Helsings have me under strict orders not to hurt the contestants.” He breathed in, pulling me so close his nose was in my hair. “But trust me, you'll soon be begging for me to kill you instead of them.”
Fear flickered through me and I knew Varick sensed it from the way he breathed the air. His grip tightened on me and he sucked his lower lip. “You better find a way to cover that delicious scent of yours, Selena. They're going to smell you from a mile away.”
I tried to tug my arm free and he released me, gesturing for me to follow the other girls.
I hugged Cass's side and she took hold of my hand, feeling rattled as she wound her fingers between mine. “Stop challenging him,” she begged and I stole a glance at her anxious expression.
My initial retort died on my lips. “I'll try.”
“You're not being brave. You're being stupid.”
Her grip tightened on my hand protectively, but the insult didn't pass me by. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was acting recklessly.
“Do you believe what he said?” I whispered as we passed down a corridor of ancient stone walls. Small, cross-shaped windows were slit into the highest part of them, revealing it was night time beyond them.
Two wooden doors awaited us, forming an arch at the end of the long corridor. Varick moved swiftly to open them, faster than any normal man, making my hair ruffle as he passed. Nothing about this was possible. I prayed I was about to wake up at any moment.
He wrenched the brass handles, revealing a large chapel beyond the doors.
Inside, the room stretched out ahead of us. Arching windows ringed the walls high above; a huge stained-glass window awaited us at the far end. Darkness prevailed beyond them, the night sky oppressively black. The only thing illuminating the space were torches set into brackets around the room. It felt like stepping back in time into some ancient cathedral.
Varick moved behind us, predator-like as he shifted from side to side. He lined us up before the alter, directing us to kneel.
The stone was icy even through the layers of material between it and my skin.
A man in white walked down the line, placing a cloak over each of our backs, the same colour as our dresses. I wrapped it tightly around me, glancing at Cass. She shrugged, tying the knot around her neck.
“What is this?” a girl in a bright, orange dress addressed Varick as he passed.
“Old tradition. You get five minutes to pray.”
My blood chilled and I glanced down the row of girls, some of whom were praying already, Kite included. Others simply sobbed, burying their faces in their skirts.
Before I could even think of what I might ask God for in the first prayer of my life – and possibly my last – the time ran out and Varick ordered us to sit in the rows of pews. It seemed like a twisted joke, him standing at the head of the church.
“I will call your names in alphabetical order. Once you are called, please make your way through the door to my left.”
Our heads wheeled towards the metal door that had no place in a church. It looked new, strong as iron, held shut with cogs and wheels.
Cass's hand found mine.
“Angelina Bergström,” he called.
The girl beside me stood; she had long blonde hair and the kind of face that belonged in a magazine. Her deep crimson dress brought out her blood-red lips. “Yes, that's me,” she said in a soft, Swedish accent. The only thing that made her less beautiful were her blotchy red cheeks from where she'd been crying.
Varick gestured to the door. It took several seconds for her to react, but her resistance only caused Varick to move closer and that made her lurch out toward the door immediately. Angelina looked ghost-like and distant as she passed through it and it swung shut behind her.
Five minutes passed, then ten, the space loud with sobs and girls begging to be released. Varick kept his eyes fixed on a point somewhere over our heads, never responding.
“Marie Chevrier,” Varick called at last and a girl whimpered in the row behind me.
I turned, spotting the girl in the yellow dress that Varick had threatened to bite. Her friend was comforting her in muttered French and eventually she made her way to the metal door. I fiddled with the long stake in my hand, my sweat making the bark slick in my hold.
As more of the girls were called, I realised that they ranged from all over Europe. Had they been taken from a prison like me? Were they criminals too?
My heart nearly froze when Varick called, “Selena Grey.”
I stood, trying not to show fear as I mumbled a goodbye to Cass and headed to the door.
It opened as I approached and I crept through the heavy door, arriving in a long room awash with blood. My first instinct was that I was about to be executed and I wheeled around, desperately looking for a way out, but the door had already shut behind me.
That was when I spotted the crowd above; the masked men watching, like statues as they waited for something to happen.
One of them stood and I recognised from his thickset form, that he was Abraham. “Selena Grey, you are offered the privilege of competing in the V Games. If you agree, you will have the chance to erase your criminal record and return home with a clean slate.”
“What?” I blurted in shock, my pulse skyrocketing. “How can you possibly offer me that?”
“I am a very powerful man, Miss Grey. I have the capabilities and the resources to wipe away your prison sentence. You were given twenty five years for the murder of your stepfather, is that correct?”
I nodded, my mouth agape. The offer was certainly alluring, but how could I possibly trust what this man said?
“What are the rules?” I questioned, my brows tugging together.
“No rules. You must simply survive for a week on the island.”
A tingle ran down my spine, a mixture of hope and terror. How could I pass up the chance for freedom?
“And if I refuse?” I asked, trying to ignore the way the crowd were leaning close, talking amongst each other.
“Then you will return to prison where you can fulfil your sentence. And you will never be offered this chance again.”
I thought of my mum, of how pleased she would be to have me home. I pictured rebuilding a life with her, a life without my stepfather to haunt us. She must have been so terribly alone now that I was gone. I didn't know if I could trust this man's word, but refusing such an opportunity simply didn't sit right with me.
With a weighing feeling inside me, I knew I'd already made my decision.
“Okay.”
A door at the far end opened and a figure ran at me, human-like but animalistic in its movements. It was like something out of a horror film. A thin, emaciated body charged in my direction, its clothes torn to tatters, its body mucky and its hair overly grown.
As I fumbled with my stake, my heart drumming in my ears, it collided with me. I fought with all my might as I crashed into the wall behind me.
I screamed as nails tore at my arms and I shoved the creature back. It came at me again, its mouth open, fangs bared.
I was pinned against the wall, battling with all my strength, terror ripping through to my core. It didn't matter what I'd been told, nothing could have prepared me for this. Teeth gnashed near my ear and I lurched my head away, narrowly avoiding a bite. Now it was up close, it seemed more human, its body all sharp angles from starvation.
I pressed my arm to its neck, forcing it back as its tongue whipped out to taste the air around me. Without another thought, I recalled Varick's instructions and drove the stake up between its ribs.
With a roar of fury, slashing fingernails and snapping teeth, it fell dead at my feet. I was speckled with blackish-blue blood and shaken to my core, trying to process what had just had happened. One word rang in my head over and over: Vampire, vampire, vampire.
A smattering of applause sounded around me, then a bidding process started like I was an item in an auction.
I barely heard any of it, shaking from head to toe, gazing at the dead creature at my feet. The words were a tumble, ringing in my ears, echoing around the space, around my skull. The last number I caught was somewhere near a million before a door opened and a woman led me out of the room. She said nothing, clamping a metal cuff onto my trembling wrist and guiding me into a large cell, ringed with bars.
The other girls who had gone before me were there, some flecked with blood, others clean but ashen-faced.
Everyone was silent, carving out their own space on the plain wooden benches laid out for us.
I took a seat at one end, scrubbing the blood smears from my arms as I tried to erase the memory of what I'd just witnessed. Was Varick right? Did Vampires exist? Had I just killed one?
Ever-so-slowly, the other girls arrived; all of them, it seemed, had accepted Abraham's offer.
I rushed to my feet when Cass appeared, blood peppering her cheeks. I wiped them clean and she gazed at me, saying nothing, her eyes fearful and her stake bloody.
“What kind of people would do this?” I breathed, but Cass had no answer, sinking down onto the bench beside me, clearly shaken.
Varick reappeared, moving into the cell with a surly expression. If he was a Vampire, he certainly looked nothing like the one I'd just faced.
He stood by the single wall that the benches were lined up in front of and a screen burst to life behind him. A map of an island was projected across the cream stones, one section of the landmass highlighted in electric blue.
Varick pointed to the screen. “Your objective today, is simple. You must travel from the castle here.” He gestured to us on the south-eastern coast of the island. “To here.” A red dot was highlighted nearly directly opposite us on the west coast. “You have twelve hours to reach it.”
“Or what?” Kite demanded.
“Or...the capsules that were placed in your heads upon your arrival, will release a fast-acting poison that will kill you in less than two seconds.”
Silence fell.
I could practically hear my heart galloping in my chest.
“Poison?” some of the girls muttered.
“How can you do this to us?” someone called, then a tumult of noise broke out.
Varick waited calmly, like he'd seen this a hundred times. “You volunteered.”
“You tricked us!” a girl in a silver dress cried, wringing her hands together.
I turned to Cass beside me and she set her jaw.
“Quiet!” he roared at last and the room fell deathly silent. “The cuffs on your wrists will provide you with the map and a timer. Simply tap it to gain access to them.”
I followed his instructions and a hologram illuminated above my cuff, mirroring the map on the wall. Tapping it again brought up a timer of twelve hours, not yet running down.
“This is twisted,” Cass whispered and I nodded, feeling like I was going into shock.
“I've changed my mind, I don't want to play,” called a girl with a thick Greek accent.
“Too late,” Varick snarled and she fell silent, quivering.
Varick's jaw hardened as he gazed around at us, quickly meeting my eye. “If you make it to the first checkpoint within the time limit, you will be rewarded with food, supplies and rest before the next round.”
“How many rounds are there?” asked a girl with almond eyes and purple-streaked hair; I thought her accent might be Finnish but couldn't be sure.
“Five,” Varick answered.
A tense silence filled the room, then I asked, “Who are those people in the white masks?”
“Spectators; men who are here solely because of you,” Varick responded, his jaw ticking. “The entire game will be fed back here for them to watch. They will be betting on which of you they think will survive.”
I felt sick, my stomach turning over and over. I was in the hands of psychopaths, about to play some twisted game for their entertainment.
Varick started handing out backpacks; they were the type a runner would wear, slimline and lightweight. He shoved one roughly into my arms and I grimaced at him, tugging it open. Inside, were several energy bars, a bottle of water, a box of matches and a slim knife.
I scoffed, chucking my bag at Varick's feet. He turned to me, practically snarling. “What is it now, sweetheart?”
“This is a joke,” I muttered. “You're sending us to the slaughter. What's the food for, to pretend you're giving us a chance?”
Varick prowled closer as some of the other girls dropped their bags too. “Fine. Go out there without supplies. See what I care? You can take it or leave it.” He kicked the bag at my feet and my heart thumped harder in my chest. I glared at the pack, stubbornly considering leaving it simply to spite Varick. But that would only harm my chances of survival – if there were any. With a sigh of defeat, I scooped up the bag and slung it over my shoulder.
“There will only be four Vs hunting you in this round,” Varick announced. “The game will get progressively harder. So the quicker you learn how to defend yourselves, the better.”
Silence rang out in the room, his words doing nothing to comfort any of us.
“So...if you'll proceed with me to the start of the game,” Varick said, guiding us out of the cell.
We passed down a wide hall of pale flagstones and huge, red and black tapestries, featuring a large letter H bordered by Latin phrases.
I felt the back of my neck, searching for a bump and my fingers brushed over a raised piece of skin. With a sinking feeling, I knew there was no way to escape.
Varick was watching me again and I dropped my hand, not wanting him to see me afraid. But, of course, I was terrified. Of him, of this place, of the creature that had attacked me and, most of all, of what lay beyond the huge wooden door at the end of the corridor. It was held in place by metal chains attached to the ceiling and, as Varick turned a massive wheel on the wall, the door slowly lowered, forming a bridge.
A sheet of snow hid the view beyond it, whipping across the land in a storm. We all huddled together as a horn blared through the castle, deafeningly loud.
Varick pointed toward the bridge and we shuffled out onto it, grouped together in a tight cluster.
I glanced back and Varick's eyes locked with mine, his expression seeming to say, “Run.”