Changeling Winds: Episode Two (The Bachelor Battles Book 2) Read Free

away from a set of familiar pictures as a soft chime sounded.
    “It's three bells and all is wells.” There was an awkward, computer-generated chuckle at the forced rhyme and then the voice continued, “Please report to the Main Arena by 5:30 sharp. Those not signed into the Block on time will be disbarred from this episode. And remember, no battling until the Official Start at Sunrise.”
    There was a short pause, and then another airy chime as the gates at each of the five arched doorways slid open.
    Casting wary glances at each other, the females began to leave the wide-pillared reception area. I hung back, letting the rounded hall empty. It would have been safer to travel the narrow, photo-lined corridors in the pack, where the guards would be the thickest, but I was waiting for the stragglers. And was glad.
    The trio came in together a few minutes after the gates opened and it horrified me to think the sisters had willingly signed up for this. Sickened, I watched the triplets pick the Bachelor Battles.
    The females were pretty and obviously wealthy, but they were the kind that wore a new pair of quartz gravity boots once and then threw them out instead of donating them. They were the kind who flocked to food shelters to dole out holiday meals, and threw orphan girls off their door stoops during the rest of the year. They were the kind who underneath, would do anything, pay anything, to get what they wanted.
    I wondered why they hadn't bought a male from the Network like their kind usually did. Then I recognized the last female to select the Bachelor Battles and stiffened in surprise. It was Chelsea Bush.
    I thought of the illegal news station we liked to listen to between bounty runs, the report we’d heard. Chelsea’s father had been found aiding a group of rebel males that had missed the train hijacking. Upon a complete search, the Bush family had been charged with more than ten violations of Network Laws. The sentence for their mother was death.
    The sisters were here as high-profile outcasts, now poverty stricken from the heavy fines. My guts churned. They’d been sent to regain favor and refill their credits. It was a great deal for their families and for the Network, who would use the famous sacrifices to keep the Games popular. There were a few open calls now for he violent programs to be outlawed and a more fair system of male distribution to be created, but few citizens I knew were listening to the protestors. I hadn’t thought the Network was feeling pressured enough to do something so drastic.
    The sisters turned toward the center door and I sent my gaze to the photos of my family, noting their wild faces and bloody hands. Then again, the Network would do just about anything for ratings… control.
    I held my place until each and every contestant entered, dropped in their IDs and made their final choice - literally. Out of the fourteen I might fight, eight were no threat. The other six? Unknown. I would have to see them interact to surmise more.
    Fighting the urge to roam, to find a distraction during my free hour, when the last chime sounded and triggered a lock on the main door, I headed for my room. No one would come in or out of this section of the complex until the episode was over, until I’d spilled enough blood to coat the walls.
    I knew these halls already, knew which way to turn, and was pleased to find myself next to the very cubicle my cousin had been in during her week of battles. I’d been here then too, kidnapped from another hall. That had been the last straw for me. I’d signed up the same day I was rescued.
    More fun, I thought sarcastically. Unlike my fearsome cousin or my wild sister, I wasn't so hard and dangerous. Sure, I had a skill for picking out weaknesses and yeah, I had a trick or ten that I'd been perfecting for years. What mattered was nerve. Did I still have enough to do this, knowing that my worries on the two-day ride here hadn’t been unfounded? Not all of my matches