Page 24 of Failed State

He snorts, shaking his head. “I try to be more positive to temper your rough edges, Syd. It doesn’t mean I don’t see all the bad crap going down here.”

Fair enough. I’m bitter enough for all three of us.

“Aw, isn’t that sweet?” Sebastian snarks from his corner. “He weawy wikes you.”

Before he can utter another word, I’m in his face with the tip of my knife barely protruding from my sleeve so no one can see it. His eyes widen and I give him a slow, satisfied smile. “Shut. Up. Traitor. I’ve had enough of your shit for today.”

“Damn, girl,” Rory whistles as his eyes burn into my back. “You got moves for someone who doesn’t have magic to throw around.”

Whipping around, I release the irritating vamp and stalk towards the flirty mage. “You should shut your yap, too. I don’t have nearly as developed hearing as most of the supes here and I heard you blabbing your shit from the doorway. Giving the enemy your pain is an amateur move.”

Elias snorts, his lips quirking up briefly. “She’s right, spellcaster. You’re both idiots. This set-up isn’t simply for the humans to watch us; it’s also to allow teams to note weaknesses of their competition. The two of you have been feeding them information the entire time while the bear and the demon simply sat back.”

I lean in, looking down at Rory when I’m close enough. “You need to learn when to shut the hell up, mage. Your mouth could get us killed.”

His brow arches and my stomach flutters when his smile gets wicked. “Who says any of that shit is true? I wasn’t dropped off the turnip truck yesterday, Vicious. If you think I’m not playing the angles at all times, you’re out of your pretty skull.”

Pulling back, I roll my eyes at the ceiling and rub the back of my neck. These fucking men are infuriating and I have no idea how the fuck I’m going to survive having to deal with five dudes who think they know better than me about everything. My hand slips over the tiny cut where the doc took the Marker out and I feel a spark of energy crawl over my fingers.

Oh, shit. Maybe he reallydidunbind my fucking powers.

BITTERSWEET SYMPHONY

SEBASTIAN

I don’t wantto be here, but it’s not like I have an option. Father swore that it would only raise our standing with the human government to participate, but I doubt that’s why he sent me. He’s in with the leadership of El Dorado One so deeply that he might as well be living in their colons—nothing I do will affect that either way. His true intent is to get me killed because I look likeher. I grind my teeth together as I try to remember my mother, but she’s been gone since I was a youngling.

Every day Astaroth Whitmore has to look upon my face is one I’m lucky to survive.

The ironic part of this disaster is that everyone in this fucking place is ready to rip vampires apart, no matter who they are. These competitors don’t even know who I am yet or why they should want to destroy me—they simply hate my kind for the horrors of our elders. That includes my father, of course, and once someone figures out my lineage, they’ll all gun for me because of him. What they won’t know is that he doesn’t fuckingcareif I die in this bullshit experiment. He considers my sisters by other sires to be his heirs despite the fact that I’m older and smarter than all of them.

Even my own team is predisposed to hate me—a fact that I’ll keep very much in mind when we finally get to the quarters they’ve promised. I’m sure it will be extremely luxe compared to the filth they’re keeping the supes in here, but it won’t meet my exacting standards. Living in ED1 has spoiled me, for better or worse, and the trauma-based OCD I developed because of Father’s rigid rules will spiral if I’m not careful. I can’t allow anyone to see that weakness or notice that it leaves me vulnerable when I’m having episodes.

Astaroth had beyond high expectations for the appearance and cleanliness of his home which he held me to account for even if I had nothing to do with the mess. His punishments were cruel and scarring, but my sisters have never felt the burn of their application. Only the staff and I received those ‘lessons’ over the years. The healers in our prior city ignored the wounds, cleaning and patching me over the years, but once the humans moved us to sectors, a kind of old witch took pity on me and told me why I kept harming myself because I never felt clean. She told me his demand for perfection was so severe that I developed my condition before I was even a century old—a mere baby for a vampire—but I could learn to manage it.

I suppose varied providers is one benefit of being caged like zoo animals even though vampires helped those roaches corral the others.

Looking around the small courtyard they’ve spruced up for our journey from the bowels of the university to this ‘Victory Hall,’ I sneer. If you ignored the view on the way into the camp, you might even think this is how supes live in them. Hell, if you videoed the parts of ED1 where vampires and pet magic users live, you might be convinced the government is treating everyone well. But that’s not how it is in the rest of Tempest Seven, nor ED1, or any other camp in the country. The show plans on featuring only the hastily polished pieces they wantthe world to see, and then no one will ask questions about Taterman’s supernatural prisons.

I shouldn’t care; if I survive this, I’ll likely be sent back to my Father rather than this mythical Shangri-La they’re telling everyone they’re moving to. The way they described it to the supes who were brought in to fill out the teams was… suspect… at best. It wouldn’t surprise me if they simply ship the winners to places like my home until the world stops paying attention or they start all over again. Once no one’s paying attention to the ex-competitors, they can do whatever they want with them—even make them disappear.

That’s another possibility I need to make plans for.

“Listen up, everyone!”

Rolling my eyes as the bright-eyed humans in charge of the four teams who are taking this tour together stop in front of the Hall that must be our new home. It’s definitely been constructed recently, and there’s no way it was without magic because the original members of my team are looking at it in shock. They must have put a fucking cloaking spell over the damn thing, too. I pinch the bridge of my nose, wondering how much money and time has been spent setting up this farce. It seems like a fucking mint’s worth, which begs the question: why?

“Fuck me,” Sydney whispers as she stands between the bear and the cow-poke demon. “Where the shit did this place come from?”

The tall shifter shakes his head. “Hell if I know. We were outside a few hours ago. Even with non-chipped high-level mages and elves and… I mean, it’s just not possible.”

“Don’t be so sure,” the fear demon says as he leans into them. “This damn place coulda all been here for months hiding its light under a bushel. If they had the right folks doing the right chants, none of us would have seen it, and a little extra spice would make us all avoid the area so no one ran into the damn thing.”

Well, he’s not stupid. That’s a point in his favor, even if he is demon scum.

“They could have given this entire sector better food and housing foryearsfor what that kind of shit had to cost.”

I chuckle to myself, as the girl at the epicenter of our team prattles on. She’s far too good for this kind of thing and that’s going to be a real problem. Given she has dick for magic, it makes her the concrete shoes of our team and it won’t be long before the snarling dragon and flirty mage decide she’s not worth getting killed over.

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