Darling Wildfire (Red Rabbit #2)

35

THERON

SIX MONTHS CAPTIVE

Not that I believed in god, but if there was someone watching out for me, he’d given me an unexpected gift in Nyx and Atlas. Despite only knowing them for a few months, these guys somehow felt like long-time friends. They cut through the darkness in my soul. They were both polar opposites of each other in the strangest ways. Nyx was all reckless shadows he kept tame with dark humor and Atlas, while ever the brooding Viking, still managed to keep us grounded in the present with compassion and reason.

“Six months,” Nyx said.

He shook his head as he stood at the bars of the cell, looking across mine as Atlas made another mark on the wall where he’d tried to keep a tally. Six long months that ran together with the monotony of routine. We’d thrown ourselves into our workouts and I’d added grappling and hand to hand instruction on top of the weight training and endurance. We’d spent the last few months honing our bodies into lethal machines, each of us at our peak performance. I’d never been in this kind of shape in my life, even while I was in the military. This was a whole different level of perfection.

I’d crafted a body made to kill.

Despite becoming obsessed with our regiment, the boredom was slowly taking its toll. Atlas frowned at his tally marks and finally shook his head.

“It’s probably not exact, but close,”

Atlas shrugged. “I was taken around the end of March.”

We all fell quiet, lost in dark thoughts. I hadn’t heard their stories yet, but it wasn’t my place to ask since I wasn’t forthcoming with mine. When Nyx had asked, I’d refused, not wanting to bring my most cherished memories into this place. The closer I got to them though, the more I wanted them to know—even if it was only so that they’d realize why I was going to do whatever possible to make sure Vetticus suffered for taking them from me.

“My sister's birthday would be any day now,”

Nyx said quietly.

I turned to look at him but he was fixated on the tally marks on the wall.

“She would have been twenty-seven,”

he continued. “She was all I had left, and he took her from me.”

“He’ll pay for what he took from us,”

Atlas said. He came and stood at the bars, gripping them firmly, his green eyes dark with conviction. “We’ve all lost people at his hands. That won’t go unpunished.”

“How are we going to get out of here?”

Nyx whispered, bringing his hand up to his mouth discreetly. He didn’t have to look at the cameras in our cells, we were all very aware of their presence.

“The tracker is going to be the hard part,”

I said. “We have no means to remove it.”

“Something will come to us,”

Atlas said. “We just have to be patient.”

“I’m not good at being patient,”

Nyx grumbled.

“Good thing you have us then,”

Atlas said and flashed him a quick smile.

Nyx’s face softened slightly and his gaze held Atlas’ for just a moment longer than necessary before he dropped it as though realizing he was staring. Atlas looked smug about something but it quickly disappeared. I wondered about them. Sometimes their banter could almost be confused with flirting although nothing blatant. I was just getting to know them well enough to see it. I don’t think Nyx realized it but Atlas certainly did.

While I didn’t feel that way about either of them, it made us that much closer to each other to the point where I was beginning to feel protective over them. They teased me that I was older and even though it wasn’t by much, the role of protector was quickly enveloping me. I had a fondness for them, but sometimes I wondered if I was capable of affection or if it was simply a matter of them belonging to me.

“Do you think the game has started yet?”

Nyx suddenly asked.

Atlas cocked his head at him in a silent question.

“Do you think people are watching us already?”

His gaze finally jumped to the surveillance camera up in the corner of my cell. Each cell had an identical one, and I had no doubts Vetticus liked to watch the feeds. Atlas flipped it off aggressively.

“If so, I hope they are as bored as I am,”

he grumbled. “If his plan is to bore us to madness, he’s doing a very good job.”

“You eager to go out and get shot?”

I asked dryly.

“We don’t even know if that’s really what the games are,”

Atlas answered. “He was very—”

A loud bell sounded throughout the cells.

It was the same one used to notify us of when we were about to go outside except it wasn’t time for that. It was nearly the time when the lights would go out for the night. I got to my feet and walked to the front of the cell, looking down the hall. Murmurs and questions rose in the air from the men in the other cells and I exchanged glances with Nyx.

Atlas sighed and gave Nyx a look of exasperation. “Looks like we’re about to find out.”

My cell door clicked loudly as it unlocked, followed by Nyx and Atlas’. Several more clicked open but as I stepped out into the hall, I realized it was only seven of us. Guards appeared at the end of the hall, motioning us with their guns to follow them.

Instead of heading outside, they cuffed our hands behind our backs, cut off our shirts and led us down a set of stairs into a large basement under the cells. Vetticus watched us file in and the guards put us on our knees in a row facing a smoldering fire pit. Once we were all situated, he spoke.

“You are all property of Atrox Gaming, a company that specializes in live action, capture the flag style military missions. You are the lucky seven that I’ve chosen for my A team and I will be making it official today. Your time has finally come to play in the games. Tomorrow you’ll enter the arena.”

He stepped to the fire and pulled out a burning iron from the coals.

“These men are your teammates. There will be three to four other squads of seven in the game—they are your opponents.”

Vetticus came over to the first man in line and two of his men came up and held him still. He pushed the brand into the man’s chest below his collarbone. Besides the hiss of his breath as the pain overwhelmed him, he didn’t move or make a sound. Vetticus removed the brand and went back to the fire.

“Your objective is to capture the target and bring it back to your safe zone, or DZ, before the time expires—or be the last team standing.”

He grabbed another brand and repeated the action with the next man in line.

“The games are televised to select individuals who can place bets on you, your team and other factors associated with the games. Each map is different—the bullets are real—if you die, I replace you. Winners get rewarded—losers get punished.”

Vetticus let his eyes settle on me when he said the last part and I suppressed a shiver at the look that passed across his face. He didn’t say what the punishment was, but based on the sadistic shit he’d demonstrated already, I didn’t want to find out.

“The games will occur every few months to allow for adequate recovery time should any injuries occur.”

I tensed when he got to Nyx, watching out of the corner of my eye as the brand was pushed against his skin. Next was Atlas. Sweat glistened on his chest and he was glaring murderously at Vetticus but he didn’t make a sound.

Then it was my turn.

Vetticus’ eyes turned sharp and his mouth twisted cruelly. He pressed the brand into my skin and the pain was nearly all-consuming. I fought through it and when he pulled it away, sweat was rolling down my body. He grabbed my chin roughly and leaned close to me although he spoke loudly to address all of us.

“You are nothing but a soldier—a player one—a pawn,”

he growled. “And you are going to make me a lot of money.”

Vetticus stared into my eyes as I glared back at him, feeling nothing but a hatred that burned as painfully as the “V”

he’d just branded into my chest. He patted my cheek harshly and walked back over to the fire, carelessly tossing the iron back into the flames he turned to us again.

“Each of you may choose your call sign for the games.”

Vetticus pointed to each of us and we went down the line giving him a name.

Vyper. Colt. Dutch. Preacher. Reaper. Phantom.

I thought about using my old call sign but when it was my turn, that’s not the name that came out.

“Kraven,” I said.

Kraven the Hunter—a Spiderman antihero. He was a big game hunter who hunted people for sport and was known for calling Spiderman “the most dangerous game.”

My heart hurt at the thought of why that name had popped into my head. Cole had loved Spiderman. We’d read all the comics, even though Whit didn’t like me to because they were surprisingly violent and dark. It had become a cherished secret between Cole and I.

I pushed the memory of Cole away. Until Vetticus was cold and dead six feet under, Kraven would be synonymous with determination and unyielding strength fed by a lust for vengeance achieved by any means possible, even at the sake of my own morality.

“Bring me a victory. I’ll accept nothing less,”

Vetticus said. His voice cut through my thoughts and brought me back from my mind running wild with plans of his demise. “Good luck.”

He gave us one final look before leaving the room. I looked over at Atlas and Nyx, then down at the V on my chest, bright and inflamed.

Game on.