Page 12 of Failed State

I snort, leaning into Thad. “Biggest event of our lives? Bigger than being put in prison camps?”

“Justice is what balances scales, Syd. Obviously, this woman is drinking her own Kool-Aid if she thinks supes will believe either of them have the power to do more than put lipstick on a pig,” Huck mutters. “We’ll be okay.”

“That’s right, Melinda,” Pat says with a big, game show host looking smile. “We can’t groom these students for success until we have their teams settled and formed. So with the guards' assistance, we’d like any full, six member team to stand, then make their way quietly to the back left corner of the gym so our staff can fill out your necessary paperwork.”

Looking around, I estimate the stands have about three hundred students. That would give them fifty teams of six, but some of the students won’t be qualified to play. There are a few that are injured or medically unable to do much—whether it’s an injury from birth, a pregnancy, or one from the sweeps and camps. If my estimate is right, it’ll cut that down to forty-one full teams, so they’d need at least fifty outsiders to make this work.

That’s not terrible.

But the number of people who stand in groups is much smaller than that, and I watch as about twenty-five groups make their way to the area we were instructed to go. I guess I thought more of the shifter groups would band together, but it seems like a lot of people aren’t ready to put their lives in the hands of the supes they live with. They can’t be bringing inthatmany new mouths to feed, right?

“Excellent, kids. We love your enthusiasm!” Melinda beams as she claps. “Now, the remaining half of you are in for a real treat. We’re going to have you shuffle down to the front right corner there to fill out your forms so we can match you with our newest Tempest Seven residents. These players have been brought from sectors all over the country and our very own seers have volunteered to read the energy on your forms to match you with the remainder of your teams.”

Is she mental? That’s not how seers work.

Thaddeus shifts, his voice low as he looks at Huck and me. “This woman doesn’t know her ass from her elbow. Seers went to ground long before the first sweeps. Any race that had a live line made sure they were hidden before The Unveiling. It was the only smart thing our leaders did.”

“And they were rare as hen’s teeth anyway,” Huck says. “Fae probably had some, wand wavers might, maybe demons—can’t rightly think of anyone else who would have. Andnoneof those groups would ever share someone who knows the damn future.”

I squint at the two blindingly vapid people on the stage with Brickman. “Then what the fuck are they talking about?”

Huck sucks in a breath, then lets it out slowly. “My guess is they have a group of supes who are skilled at cons. They likely read auras, have empathy, and the like, but are well versed in micro expressions, cold reading, and the like.”

“Shit,” I say when it dawns on me. “They finally tagged all the supe circus folk.”

Thad groans and stretches his legs out as he puts his hands on his face. “Man, those assholes were like folk heroes. Everyone pointed them out when the young ones get discouraged. If they got the circus—the entire circus—and broke them up to use for this shit, how long have they been planning to do this?”

I blink. “From the beginning, Thad. From the beginning.”

Our realization makes everything feel drastically worse, and we’re quiet as Melinda and Pat call down rows of the unmatched supes one by one. They started at the top, so it will be a bit before they get to our section, but a stone is sitting in my gut as I watch students in twos, threes, and fours make their way to the table where they each take a clip board and fill something out. After that, a guard leads their group out of the gym to fuck knows where, and they start with another waiting group. It’s smooth, but only because the Markers keep everyone from using their powers in a panic.

You can tell by the look on most of the students’ faces that they’ve figured out a pay-per-view death match was in the cards from the start.

I flex my fists in my lap, wishing I had something more to contribute than some shitty basic magic. At least Huck and Thad have strength, speed, and power despite their Markers. I’m as useless as the witches Huck described earlier unless someone wants heated coffee or plants to grow. Very basic earth and water magic is all the Marker left me. The new team members are going to want to abandon me, I just know it.

“Stop fretting, sweet pea. Your brain is worth ten strong bears or wolves,” Huck says with a smirk.

My eyes narrow. “Don’t read me, asshole. You know I hate that. Are you sure you aren’t part carnie like these seers they claim to have?”

He winks at me, but doesn’t answer. I frown as he goes back to watching the descending groups with eagle eyes. It’s always bugged me that we don’t have Huck’s whole backstory, but Thad has good judgment. I know he wouldn’t put me in danger, so I have to trust that he knows what he’s doing keeping the shady Southern demon in our orbit.

But he’s got a lot of skills I wouldn’t expect from anyone who hasn’t dabbled in the darker crevices of life.

“I don’t get where they got all these extra people to shuttle all over to fill the teams. Did they do more sweeps? Find people hiding?”

My ursine friend drapes his arm over my shoulders, squeezing me against his side. “I heard the camps below the Mason-Dixon are bursting at the seams. The ones out West, too. That sound right to you, Huck?”

He nods. “Even a couple years ago, parts of the country were overloaded. Lots of supes hide from humans in places like mountains, swamps, forests, and such. Large communities were scooped up that consisted of generations of supes living communally, especially those that like to be in packs or prides or covens. They used vampires to locate a lot of ‘em. That’s why they started processing centers after the Second Sweep, Syd. They gather us all up and ship us to different parts of the country depending on space.”

“But what about families?” I say softly.

“Sorry, sweet pea. Humans don’t give a flying pig’s fart about that. They tore babies and kids and parents apart, shoving them into different housing then supposedly sending them to specific places. But…”

My eyes widen. “Holy fuck. You don’t think they…” Thad hugs me a bit tighter as the realization dawns on me. “In the crowded areas, you think they trafficked supes to cut down on costs and shit.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me. Human hunters, fetishists, killers… There's a lot of money to be made if no one can track down where people go. It’s intelligently designed, weaponized incompetence. Something has to pay for all those fucking platinum shitters, and Taterman thinks we’re lower’n roaches.”

“I’m gonna be sick,” I mutter as I lean forward and put my head between my knees. “I knew these assholes were evil, but…”

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