were a given.
I slung my kit onto the chipped green counter while listening to that angry voice inside. There was still time to withdraw, until the sunrise chime. Should I?
Could I? That was the better question, I realized. Could I live with myself?
I scowled bitterly. No. Even without the family reputation to live up to, there was the cold bed waiting for my return… the painfully empty bed. I didn’t want any of those frightened bachelors, but I needed one. The Change had come and turned me into something else, something that hungered and burned endlessly. I had to try to get a mate, a cure. Even death would be better than this constant struggle for control.
2
I stepped into the wide room behind the Block at exactly 5:29. The last one through the door, all heads swung my way. Some of the waiting women instantly began viewing me less seriously despite the famous last name and I continued to give that impression, nodding politely at those who stared and glared.
Of that group, there were half a dozen. Apparently they saw my high-collared cloak, and then my perfectly blank expression, and recognized me for what I was - a contender.
“Chelsea Elizabeth Bush.”
Not bothering to watch the graceful trio move toward the velvet curtains, I tuned-out the speaker and concentrated instead on discovering which, if any, of the sturdy females lining these walls might be able to kill me when the official chime sounded at dawn.
“Danielle Ann Bush.”
Sighing inwardly at how long this would take, I didn't waste the time. I spent it picking my careful exit and return through the halls, but mostly I used it to narrow down a suspected weakness in each female. I thought of anything but the performance to come.
Ice had settled over me by the time they announced the fourteenth fighter and over-viewed her talents. She left the stage with a short glare my way and I understood she already hated me. I recognized her, too. She was a Diva gang member. Candice had killed their leader during her Games challenge last month. There was that family name again, helping things along.
I gave a short ‘bring it on, then!’ wave, and the woman fled the empty waiting area with only another quick glower.
“And the last Contestant is...”
The moment stretched into eternity for me before the speaker blared again.
“Angelica Eve Pruett!”
I felt the hush come over not only the live audience of Bachelors and viewers, but also over those tuned-in across the world.
“From sisters to cousins, this is Angelica, 18-year-old Pruett family Tracker. As a part of one of the most brutal clans in the history of the Games, I wonder what we can expect from this Changeling teenager.”
I moved slowly into view. I was the third of my family to come through these curtains to claim a mate. Would I live up to their expectations? What about the others? What did they want most? A small show? For me to be as harsh as the other women tonight hadn't been? I hoped both were true as I kept my gaze from straying to the small glass room at the very top of the honeycomb-like complex. It was the room that one of us Pruetts might step into before all was said and done.
I came out below the first cage where I would battle, a bit stunned by the sound of the audience. The red-faced mob was already violently drunk and peppered with Network guards trying to strike them, repeatedly, into obedience.
The Block was a protruding stage in the direct center of the complex, with fans on three sides and the males in a small, well-guarded pen on the fourth. There were thousands of faces crammed into the arena, enthusiastically betting on who would die first.
I stepped forward as my image flashed onto the giant view-screens that were spread among the triangle-shaped walls and the tension thickened with each light step I took. Even the announcer was silent, waiting to see me.
As I neared the center of the Block, I stopped, turning to face the cameras. In this version of the game,
Brandilyn Collins, Amberly Collins