Page 11 of Dance of the Phoenix (Cloak of the Vampire #3)
Aileen
I cried out as pain blasted through my entire body, until I screamed, “ Resume !”
My hold on time, on my magic, released like air out of a balloon, and the pain receded to a lingering soft pounding in my temples. Blinking my eyes open, I realized I was down on my knees, raindrops falling now that time had resumed, wetting my hair and my clothes.
Ragnor crouched before me, putting his hand on my shoulder. “Again.”
A pathetic whimper escaped me. “I ... I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” Ragnor insisted, forcing my head up with his fingers under my chin. His eyes met mine. “You held on for fifteen seconds this time. You need to keep on practicing so we can get to half a minute today.”
“I said that I can’t!” I snapped, glowering at him as I pushed his hand away from my face. “My head is fucking killing me , Ragnor! I can’t take it anymore!”
His face contorted in cold anger. “I didn’t take you for a quitter, Aileen.”
I shook with barely repressed rage. We’d been at it for the past two hours, and I was cold, exhausted, and at my wits’ end. My progress was so painfully slow, I was on the verge of having a frustrated meltdown.
Ragnor’s sigh brought my eyes back to his face. He gave me a pitying look that did nothing to calm my fury. “Look,” he said quietly, “in the Hecatomb, who do you think will win, Atalon or me?”
This was such a ridiculous, out-of-left-field question, I couldn’t help but let out a humorless bark of laughter. “You, of course.”
He nodded. “Yes, I’m stronger than him,” he said, not out of arrogance but with cold self-assuredness. “Then what do you think the Atalon League participating members will do?”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
The rain grew from a drizzle to a full-on downpour, and Ragnor grabbed my elbows and helped me up to my feet.
Once we were inside, he threw me a towel and led me to the dining table, where he sat me down and seated himself right next to me.
“There are six fights in total in the Hecatomb,” he said then.
“Five between the League members, and one between the Lords.”
“I remember,” I said, cuddling the towel close.
He nodded. “Since the battle between the Lords is the one to decide which League wins overall, do you remember what happens to the losing League’s members if they lose in the members-versus-members fights?”
I recalled the piece of paper he had shown me a few days ago, back in his office.
In the event that League X wins more rounds, and its Lord wins the final battle, League Y’s both Common and Gifted members will submit to be put in a special Hecatomb Auction.
In the event that League X wins more rounds, but the Lord of League Y wins the final battle, League X members have three choices:
1. Remain as a League and appoint a member as a new Lord
2. Initiate a Hecatomb Auction and dissolve the League
3. Become Leagueless
“Yes, I remember that too,” I said now as I realized where he was going with it.
“Now,” he said, “who do you think the Atalon League members believe will win?”
“You,” I said without hesitation.
He gave me a brief smile. “Yes, me. Then who do you think is more motivated to win the members’ rounds? My League, or Atalon’s?”
Realization dawned. “Atalon League,” I murmured, as things became clear. Ragnor was trying to tell me that even though everyone in both Leagues knew he was most likely to win the battle between the two Lords, when it came to the members’ fights, the Atalon League had far greater motivation to win.
Meaning the Rayne League members had to give it their all, too, or we would end up dead.
Grimacing, I looked away and said, “I do wonder, though, if it’s right for me to use magic when I’m signed up to the Hecatomb as a Common.” I thought of Atalon, and my hands curled into fists. “You’re not the only one who’s aware of my powers, after all.”
“That’s what he wants, I believe.”
I whipped my head toward him and narrowed my eyes when I saw his face turn somber. “You think Atalon wants me to use my powers against his League members?”
“Yes,” Ragnor replied at once, “I believe that’s exactly what he wants.”
“But why?” I snapped, anger flooding me again. “It’s not like he’s going to live long enough to have me back in his League or whatever!”
Ragnor was quiet for a few moments after my outburst, his face grave, before he said, “That’s why I think your, and everyone else’s, assumption is wrong.”
I froze. “What assumption?”
He was far too serious for my liking when he replied, “That I’ll win.”
The drive back to the underground compound was somber and silent. Both Ragnor and I seemed to be stuck in our own heads, and we didn’t talk until we entered the League and parted ways near the cafeteria, where I planned to grab a bite of dinner before going back to the suite.
I was so lost in thought that when I grabbed a plate full of pasta and headed to a random empty table in the almost-deserted cafeteria, I didn’t hear my name being called until a hand landed on my shoulder, making me snap out of my own head.
Turning around, I was surprised to see Bowen, in his kitchen uniform, standing there. My former dishwashing teammate seemed the same as always but for the dark bags under his eyes, indicating he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in who knew how long.
“Hey,” I said. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you. I was ... distracted.”
He gave me a small smile that faded quickly. “Yeah, we all are,” he said before he sat down at the empty table I now manned. “Can I ask for a favor?”
Surprised, I studied him. There was a tinge of desperation in his brown eyes. “What is it?”
He pushed his dirty-blond hair back, an act of discomfort, before he said, “Can you talk to Jada?”
I suddenly recalled what the platinum-haired Common participant, Yelene, had said earlier today, back in the meeting room. “I heard she won’t come out of her room,” I said, pushing the past aside and leaning forward, catching Bowen’s eyes. “CJ never got around to telling me what happened.”
Bowen looked around, as though he was afraid someone was eavesdropping on us—even though the only people in the cafeteria were sitting at a table on the other side of the room—before he said, “CJ and Jada are close. Closer than brother and sister. Closer even than lovers.”
“Okay ...?” I said, baffled. I knew they were on good terms with each other, but I never suspected they had some sort of special relationship.
In fact, every time we’d worked together, they bickered and teased one another in a way that seemed mostly friendly.
Though I would be the first to admit I could be oblivious when it came to these things.
But the way Bowen talked about their relationship, one would think they were soulmates or something.
“Look, I can’t go into details,” he said curtly, “but ever since CJ left the kitchens and joined the Troop, he and Jada started fighting more often than not, and things reached a breaking point when CJ was voted into the Hecatomb.”
“Why, though?” I asked, still puzzled over why Bowen was telling me this—but more so about the fact Jada and CJ had fought over such a thing.
“I mean, CJ was a second-timer when Ragnor bought him. Joining the Troop is a huge promotion for someone of this status.” I could only think of Isora, who’d been forced to become a blood slave thanks to the same status.
That CJ managed to climb up the strict social ladder of the League system was quite a feat.
“But it also puts him more at risk,” Bowen countered, scowling.
“Even without the Hecatomb, the Troop members risk their lives on a daily basis. They are sent on missions outside the League and put their lives on the line if need be. While being a kitchen assistant might be considered bottom tier, at least it’s safe. ”
“I agree,” I said, meaning it, “but most vampires want to be as high as possible in the League’s hierarchy—”
“CJ is different!” he cut me off in irritation before he took a deep breath and said more quietly, “He never wanted this. He liked having the dishwashing job. He liked working with Jada and me—though especially Jada. He never wanted this—and neither did Jada.”
I was still confused. “Did CJ ask to join the Troop?” I asked, since this could be the only reason why Jada might be upset. Or the only one I could think of anyway.
When Bowen shook his head, though, I said, “Then why the hell is Jada upset? It’s not like CJ could do anything about his job change.”
“It’s more than that,” Bowen said, gritting his teeth. “Believe me, I want to tell you, but I’m under oath not to. So please, can you just do me this one favor and talk to Jada? Ask her to make up with CJ and come along with me to watch the Hecatomb and root for him?”
I wished I could read minds, because his words made no sense. “Let me get it straight,” I said slowly, wheels spinning in my head, “you want me to talk to Jada, who, unjustifiably so, is angry with CJ for joining the Troop and now the Hecatomb, so she and CJ will make up?”
Bowen shot me an annoyed look. “I told you it’s much more than that.”
“But still—”
“Look, Aileen, are you going to do this or not?” he cut me off again, anger in his voice. Though I had a feeling he wasn’t angry with me but rather with this whole situation.
I let out a breath and said, “Yes, I will.” Because even if Bowen couldn’t tell me everything—he was under “oath” or something, whatever the fuck that meant—Jada and CJ were important to me, along with him. I didn’t like hearing Jada was hurting, and that by proxy, so was CJ.
So I ate quickly, bid a relieved Bowen goodbye, and went back to the suite to find the place empty, without a sign of Ragnor. And while this had been going on ever since the whole Hecatomb thing began, I couldn’t shake the feeling of uncertainty that threatened to swallow me whole.