Page 35 of Failed State

Giving him a dirty look, I retort, “What the hell does that smell like, you overgrown mosquito?”

His fangs peek out as he smirks. “Blood.”

I asked, didn’t I?

“Guys, cool it. The guy next to Krista is getting ready to speak.”

Thad’s calm words help put a damper on the embers burning inside of me and I sigh. “Fine. I’ll behave for a few minutes.”

“Good girl,” Rory says.

My eyes narrow and I stomp his foot as hard as I can before hissing, “I’m not a girl, asshole.”

His hand flies to his mouth to cover the yelp, but he looks at the other guys to figure out his mistake. They might as well be staring into the sky and whistling for all the help they give him and I cross my arms over my chest, feeling victorious. The squeal of a bullhorn distracts me and we all turn back to face front. The guy standing on a chair looks like a preppy douche—the kind I would have avoided like the plague even before The Unveiling.

“Good morning, future champions!” When no one responds, he falters briefly, but then smiles brightly to cover it up. “The FHSA has chosen you for its biggest honor since the inception and we are here to guide you through your first step toward victory!”

Again, no one says a word—the only sound in the room is a cough, then feet shuffling. If this guy thinks anyone here is going to kiss his ass for being here, he’s definitely delusional. Even Bitsy is staring at him with open derision. That might be because he’s not powerful enough to do anything for her, but still. It feels like solidarity when we’re all quiet, so I’m going to take it.

“My name is Chad Burnett, and I lead the Wizarding Whizzbangs team over there. Today, your teams will go through the process of prep in both branding, like mine, and then the physical evals that will allow your coordinator to bid for things to help your strategy going forward. You will need to pay close attention, be honest about your abilities, and interact with your coordinator to help craft the image your team wants to project. If you think this isn’t important, you’re dead wrong—possibly literally once the Games begin.”

Of fucking course it’s a Chad. What would this circus be without one?

TODAY IS NOT THE DAY

THADDEUS

I sawSyd’s face when the douche said we’d have to name our team and come up with a ‘branding strategy’. She’s going to lose her mind at some point today, and I’m not sure we can afford that. We agreed to keep everything on the DL as a team so we can check out the competition, but if they’re going to make us do stupid shit, it will be hard to keep her on track with that plan.

She might not be the only one, too, given the disgust mirrored by the dragon.

The trappings of this contest feel stupid and superfluous when it’s weighed against the seriousness of its conclusion. Sydney is so angry about what happened four years ago—especially her father’s death—and she’s never processed it properly. Anger keeps her going, and she doesn’t want to let go of it because she’s afraid there won’t be anything left to fuel her. Of course, she’s neversaidthat, but it’s clear as day when you know her as well as I do. Her fury about the world forsaking the supes of the former America out of capitalistic greed helps her deal with the reality of our lives now.

Now we have to play to the cameras and the media vultures to ensure our survival—it’s going to take time for her to swallowthat injustice. The only thing Huck and I can do is help her deal with it in private as best we can while hoping the others don’t push her boundaries enough to fuck up our chances in this damn competition. Sighing as I watch her stew quietly while the Chad dude continues to explain our activities for the morning, I place my hand on her shoulder gently. I don’t want to spook her, but I think she needs something to ground her.

“This is such a fucking circus, Thad,” she whispers. “So much money is being spent on a facade for the rest of the world when people are suffering—especially the camps ranked lower than T7.”

“I know,” I reply ruefully. “But we can only control what’s in our grasp, Syd. If we rise to the top of the barrel and gain public adoration, maybe we can put the focus on the truth of supe life in FHSA.”

She turns, looking over her shoulder at me, her eyes wide. “Holy shit, you’re right. If we use this not to escape, but to fuck up their perfect bubble of lies, we might be able to help everyone, not just ourselves.”

“Great,” the vampire says low enough that only our team can hear. “She’s going to turn into a crusader now, bear. That’s going to go badly since she can’t even defend herself with magic or supe skills, plus she’s got zero control over her emotions.”

Sydney glares at him so intensely that I think if she had powers, it would?—

Sebastian starts choking, his hands flying to his throat as he scrabbles to get air. His eyes pop open, panic reflected in the red orbs as he tries to keep the noise from his struggle quiet. Our girl’s lips curve up in satisfaction, an evil glee coming over her face as she continues to stare at him. The dragon notices the problem, and I feel the air around us grow cooler, a salty tang filling my nostrils as he moves closer. He approaches Syd carefully, like she’s a rabid animal he doesn’t want to bite him.

“Toafilemu, aloiafi natia. E tatau ona e filemu?1.”

Huck frowns, whatever language the sea dragon is speaking, he isn’t familiar with. Rory looks similarly confused, and the vampire simply claws at his windpipe. I rumble soothingly, hoping to help her with my touch and the bear’s support. There’s no way Syd has any clue what this dude is saying, either. She’s never been out of our state, much less?—

“Ua tatau ona maliu o ia mo lana vaega i lo tatou pagatia. Ua ia faalumaina a?u ma o tatou tagata i lona faatasi mai.?2”

What the fucking shit is that?!

The royal laughs softly, his chuckle rumbling with a touch of his inner beast. “That is true,aloiafi natia?3.But today is not the day to mete out that punishment, and perhaps this vampire isn’t the one who has earned it. You are smarter than that, I believe.”

Suddenly, she breaks eye contact with Sebastian and he’s able to suck in deep breaths, trying to slowly get oxygen back into his body. I didn’t think vamps actually needed air, which means we’ve been taken in by a mythos probably spread by their own kind to protect themselves. A vampire locked in a coffin for revenge would die much faster of air loss than starvation—so it makes sense they’d pretend otherwise.

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