Page 32 of Failed State

The guys all look at one another and Huck chuckles. “Anyone so inclined, gents? I have to warn you; he’s stronger than he looks and that’s saying something.”

If even one person responds, I’m going to beat their ass myself—that’s a foregone conclusion.

WE’RE ALL A LITTLE FUCKED UP

RORY

I endup going last for the shower and thesmellsin it are enough to make my eyes roll back. Our team is likely the hottest in the entire competition, and every single person could haveanythingthey wanted in my sector, even the scary sea dragon. The mix of their scents makes my dick twitch as I scrub myself down with the same stuff they did, groaning as I have to avoid doing anything to relieve myself. The pizza is coming and I’m hungry, plus I don’t want anyone picking up on the noises. I’m not sure how sharp the vampire’s hearing is, but I guarantee it’s damn good. The bear is probably heightened, the dragon might be, and that only leaves the demon and our slightly human girl.

At some point, I won’t give a shit if they know, but I don’t want to frighten anyone off until I get a good sense of where their lines are.

My excitement fades a bit when I remember that everyone knows how supes stay as well-groomed and fed as me when they aren’t the stupid bloodsucking traitors. That’s a strike in my column and even if they’re desperate, these people will likely refuse to come anywhere near me. The things I’ve had to do to keep from living in squalor in Inferno One aren’t something I’mproud of, but I survived. That doesn’t mean my teammates won’t judge me for it, and I get the feeling Sydney will be the most horrified. Anything I can do to keep her from finding out the bargains and activities I’ve had to be part of is fair game; I don’t wantanyone’spity.

“You’re not dirty, Rory,” I mutter to myself. It’s a mantra I have to keep running in my head to ward off the sadness, depression, and self-loathing. My fingers find the elastic band on my wrist that looks like a decorative piece but is one of the few things helping me keep the outward appearance of jolliness. I snap it over and over as the soap runs over my raw skin, waiting for the clarity to finally come. This is something an ex-supernatural therapist living in my sector taught me before her sugar human killed her for some stupid ass reason.

Just keep snapping it until the feeling goes away.

It takes a few minutes, but the action curbs the words of criticism in my head and the almost unignorable urge to continue washing myself vigorously until my skin peels off. I let out a slow breath as the world stops looking hyper-focused and then rest my forehead against the wall. The bullshit I’ve endured makes me go off the deep end sometimes, especially when I’m attracted to others organically rather than looking to gain something. When it’s about getting what I need, I put it all in this imaginary box and do what I have to. But the other feelings bring up all that self-hatred and despair because I know I’m forever tainted by what I had to do to survive.

“Stormbringer, what the hell is taking you so long? It’s almost delivery time!”

The sound of Sydney’s voice almost brings it all back but I tug the bracelet high and let it snap me so hard I visibly wince.There we go.“Coming, Vicious. My hair needed some TLC; it can’t be perfect all the time without proper care, you know.”

Whew. Hopefully, she believes that nonsense.

Hopping out of the warm water, I towel off and pull on the sweats that were tucked in the dresser of my room. I don’t think Sydney realizes the rooms were enchanted to draw the right person into the right room—that’s how everyone has clothes that fit—but it’s a harmless spell, so I don’t need to bring it up. However, noticing it means I have to scan this entire place when the others aren’t watching. I have to make sure we’re not tripping over planted enchantments that will hurt our chances of winning. Getting out of Inferno One so I never have to market myself to grubby assholes is my main priority with this stupid game. I won’t let anything stop me from finding that peace.

I look in the mirror, ruffling my hair until it falls perfectly, then I use the products on the counter to finish getting fresh and clean. None of the other dudes moisturized I bet, but they’ll regret that when they live for-frigging-ever and have wrinkly, dry skin. I’m not so silly, so I make sure I’m covered, then brush my teeth. Luckily, they had enough brushes for everyone, and the towel supply was plentiful. It seems they’re treating this like the humans used to do for Olympians and I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.

What if treating it that way means they’re going to hold these games every few years in some twisted Hunger Games fashion to cull our species?

“What are you thinking, Rory?Of coursethat's Burnt Dorito’s plan. He’s probably jacking off to the idea of watching us die on screen like it’s porn.”

Shaking my head in disgust, I turn off the lights as I leave the bathroom, heading for the main living area with a pasted-on smile. “Here I am, Mr. America…”

The demon raises an eyebrow. “They haven’t done that contest since the virus. I wonder if we’re the replacements.”

“Get out of my head, demon,” I say with a rueful look. “I was just pondering the same thing—if this is going to get repeated year after year to keep supe numbers small in the country.”

Thad nods, his youthful face serious. “I think going in with the impression that they don’t give a fuck who wins as long as supes die and they make money on the broadcast is a good way to stay alive.”

“But they’re adding some weird… popularity component?” Sydney chews her lower lip and I know she’s worried about that. Her brusque nature and sarcasm won’t draw in the toxic fuckers who are devoted to licking Taterman’s ass.

She might be popular globally, though. The rest of the world let our kind exist without imprisoning them—that’s who she needs to aim for.

“I’m sure that’s to keep people watching every week like old human reality shows did. It’s a participation piece that makes them feel like they’re part of the action,” Sebastian says. He looks less imposing now that he’s dressed down, and I’m surprised to see glasses perched on his aquiline nose.

The nerd-look is kind of hot on that salty betrayer, I have to admit.

Sydney turns to glare at him. “Youwould know. How are we supposed to believe you’re not a fucking plant?”

“Good question,” Dante rumbles from the big chair he claimed.

“Because I didn’t have an option in being here, either. Don’t you think if I had a choice, I’d be on a team without criminals and non-magic having humans?”

That makes the demon sit up, and he growls as he leans in. “You don’t get to insult her, you overgrown skeeter. Your kind is part of why we’re all in this goddamn mess, so watch your tone or I’ll test that regrowth theory.”

I frown, tilting my head in confusion. “What regrowth theory?”

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