Hushed laughter floats into the air, immediately stifled by coughs filled with unease.
A flush crawls up the sides of Eric’s neck, his rage palpable. For a second, my mask of indifference slips at the idea of Eric being stupid enough to continue the fight with Ryan when he’s clearly outmatched. However, Eric’s arrogance finally comes to terms with what his instincts know to be true: he won’t win.
“Fuck off,” he snarls. “My father is one of three council members, and I’ll take his place someday. My drug empire brings in more money and power than yours can ever dream of. You’ll need that girlfriend of yours to suck your dick hard enough to make you forget that reality.”
Eric whirls around, chains clinking, his hungry gaze scanning the room for another opponent. Correction: a victim.
My muscles tighten the second his attention lands on the newcomer, but I maintain my expression of boredom. No one knows about my orders, not even my target.
Benjamin McKenzie remains hunched in the corner, his eyes darting back and forth until they settle on Eric. Alarm flickers over his countenance and he takes up a defensive stance, balling his fists. Despite his ability to fight, it won’t be enough. Even if he had one of the knives, his chances would be slim.
Eric’s mouth tilts in a brutal smile as he makes his way toward the newcomer. “Where the fuck did you come from, pretty boy?” He stops a few feet from Benjamin, his gaze scrutinizing and critical. “You’re not one of us, so how’d you get here?”
Benjamin remains silent. With the seconds ticking away, and his death imminent without my interference, I shift my gaze to Declan Kent. The heir to the medical dynasty catches my eye and lifts a brow in question. I jerk my chin at the knife in his hand.
It’s a lot to ask for in this situation. If there was ever a time to test the trust between Declan and me, it’s now. The only other person who carries a weapon is Simon Paine, and my chances of getting it from him without sustaining an injury are dicey at best.
Declan gives me a pointed look, and I return it, an understanding passing between us. I’ve never considered him a friend, but after today, I will. And I’ll owe him.
He hands me the knife, his forehead wrinkled with resignation. I take it from him and hold the weapon by the tip of the blade. The weight of it is lighter than I’m used to wielding, and I adjust my grip accordingly.
“Any last words?” Eric lifts his arm, the firelight from the torch reflecting off the steel, gleaming menacingly. At Benjamin’s continued silence, Eric rolls his eyes. “You can refuse to talk, but you won’t be able to stop yourself from screaming.”
Desperation and anticipation light up Benjamin’s gaze and amplify the tension lining his shoulders. And his inexperience. Eric, however, moves with a fluidity that speaks of training cultivated from years of practice. Some of it forced, but most of it for the pleasure of causing another’s suffering.
He tosses the knife from one hand to the other, toying with his opponent. “This’ll be fun.”
Eric feints left and the newcomer scrambles back, further putting himself at a disadvantage with no room to escape.
I move before Eric does. With sharp precision and deadly force, I hurl the blade straight at Eric’s exposed side. It strikes home with a gratifying impact, piercing flesh and tendon.
A scream fills the room, but it’s not Benjamin’s.
Eric removes the blade with a low grunt and whirls in my direction, his knives carving through the air while he searches for his attacker. The copper scent of fresh blood blooms pungent. His fury seeps from his body quicker than his blood.
“What the fuck, X?”
I shrug. “Just trying to keep things interesting.”
In my peripheral vision, I catch Benjamin studying me, his hands shaking. My fighter’s instincts chafe at having limited mobility because of the chains on my wrists. Fighting Eric without any weapons is going to be a challenge, but the McKenzie heir must live.
Eric starts walking in my direction, and Declan takes a step closer to me. The show of solidarity gives Eric pause. His surprise at Declan’s loyalty is obliterated when Simon launches himself at Eric.
From a strategic perspective, I understand Simon’s choice. Eric has no allies, and with him being wounded, he’s vulnerable. But that doesn’t mean he’s weak.
Eric twists away from Simon’s charge with a viper’s swiftness and deflects the blow by drawing his blade across his body. The screech of steel has me clenching my teeth. The fighters are oblivious, the grating sound falling on deaf ears.
Circling his opponent, Simon grins maniacally as some of the spectators begin to toss out insults to both parties, encouraging the escalation of violence. Eric swipes at Simon’s ribs, but the strike doesn’t find its mark.
They trade attacks, each one getting more violent. And desperate. Simon’s physical power contrasts with Eric’s skill. Which one is more valuable?
Chests heaving from exertion, they clash again and again in a flurry of jabs and slashes until more blood is spilled. Simon drives Eric back step by step with sheer force, overwhelming his technical skill set. Their blades scrape violently as each tries to deliver a killing blow.
The room—and its occupants—hold their breath. Eric’s determination to live isn’t to be underestimated, but the chances of him outlasting his attacker’s onslaught is nil.
With an enraged bellow, Simon throws his entire weight behind a powerful strike. Eric sidesteps at the last second and brings one of his knives upward in a vicious scything motion.
Simon gasps, the wet sound cut short as a red line appears on his throat like a red smile across his skin. Blood pours from the wound and lands onto the ground.
Right before his body does.
Declan dismisses him with a shrug, and I do the same. Death is a part of this life.
Benjamin stands with a watchful eye, having never moved to help or hinder Simon’s death. Or Eric’s. Throughout the fight, there was a ceaseless vigilance in the set of Benjamin’s jaw and the stiffening of his spine. He’ll need more of that.
I look from Simon’s body and over to his cousin, Alaric Paine. “Looks like you just got promoted,” I say.
Then there were twelve recruits.
Delilah: Dude, this new foster home is amazing! Emily and Sandra have their own rooms! Can you believe it? Sandra still crawls into Emily’s bed every night. I think it makes the girls feel secure and I don’t blame them. This is a whole new environment with new schools and everything.
Ben: That’s great. I’ll come down after my first exam to check things out.
Delilah: Can’t wait to see you! How’s that fancy college of yours? Everything you dreamed of?
Ben: Haha yeah.
Delilah: Cool. Well, I’ve got to run. Xoxo
Ben: Oxox
Delilah: Pigpig
Ben: You’re so weird.
Delilah: Yup 😊
Chapter 6XAVIER
Sophomore Year
The acrid smell of herbs and chemicals wafts under my nose as I walk into the classroom. Behind me are the other recruits, all of us a year older, a year deeper into the clutches of the Order.
The fluorescent lights above cast sinister shadows on the array of equipment set up on the lab tables that line the sides of the room. Traditional wooden desks take up the center and the majority of the space.