Page 38 of Dance of the Phoenix (Cloak of the Vampire #3)
Aileen
It was odd seeing Magnus, out of everyone, cooking breakfast in our League dorms’ kitchen when I woke up the next morning.
I was the first in the lounge other than Magnus, who seemed as if he’d been there for quite a while.
“Good morning,” I said, walking toward him. “Coffee?”
Magnus shot me a warm smile. “You’ve got the machine on the other side of the room. As for blood, you have all types in the fridge here.”
“Thanks,” I said, smiling back sleepily as I grabbed a bottle of AB plus and headed to the coffee station. With a hot mug ready, I rejoined Magnus in the kitchen and said, “I could help you, if you want.”
“Nah.” He shrugged. “I like cooking. And besides, you have a Hecatomb to worry about. Leave the cooking in the next couple days to me and the others.”
That made my smile widen. “If I didn’t have Ragnor, I would’ve fallen for you right here, right now.”
“Fallen for who?”
Sleepiness evaporating, I whirled around to see Ragnor entering the room from a different door than the male and female residences—meaning he probably had his own room, being a Lord and all.
Despite that, however, he seemed far more tired than I’d ever seen him, with heavy bags under his eyes and paler skin than usual.
Worried, I put aside the coffee and strode toward him, grabbing his face. “What’s wrong?” I asked, a sense of urgency making my heartbeat quicken.
He gazed at me and, to my shock, pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “All’s well, baby,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around me and squeezing tight.
Unsure what to do with this sudden public display of affection, I hesitantly hugged him back and held him. When I felt him growing heavier, and his breaths turning deeper, I realized he had just fallen back to sleep while draped over me.
“Magnus, a little help?” I squeaked as I attempted to hold myself still and not cave under his weight.
With a sigh, Magnus helped me put Ragnor down on the sofa. When I stared at his sleeping face, I couldn’t help but murmur foul-temperedly, “What did he bother waking up for?”
Magnus returned to the kitchen with a scoff. “He obviously wanted to see his honey bunny.”
I scrunched my nose. “Don’t ever say ‘honey bunny’ ever again, Magnus. It’s unbecoming.”
He chuckled while flipping omelet after omelet on a pan. “Blimey, Miss Henderson,” he said with a fake, exaggerated British accent. “I know the decoration is rather inspiring, but do please contain yourself, and do not speak posh words like unbecoming .”
I choked out a laugh despite myself. “It’s not a posh word, you dolt.”
Grinning, Magnus did not reply and resumed his cooking. In the meantime, I sat on the sofa next to Ragnor and, in a split-second decision, put his head over my thighs and caressed his face, combing his unruly hair.
Slowly, the League members trickled into the room. I felt their eyes on Ragnor and me, but I didn’t care; I loved touching Ragnor and comforting him as he slept, and if anyone thought anything about that, I couldn’t care less.
I saw Jada walk into the lounge some time later, joining Magnus in the kitchen to help with breakfast, along with some other spectators who jumped in. She still seemed emotionlessly weary, but it was nice to see she could at least function well enough to move around and even cook.
A large dining table, which had been pushed to the wall up until now, was placed in the middle of the lounge, surrounded by chairs and set for breakfast. When it had filled up with Magnus’s and his impromptu cooking crew’s dishes, I knew it was time to wake up my boo.
“Ragnor,” I murmured, leaning down so I could kiss his temple. “Breakfast’s ready.”
He squeezed his eyes shortly before his lids rolled up, revealing his stunning midnight blues. His sleepy gaze focused on me and a soft, sexy, and almost boyish smile stretched his lips. “Hey.”
My heart fluttered at the sight. “Hey,” I whispered back, unable not to smile back.
He rolled to his side, burying his face in my abdomen and wrapping his arms around me. “Give me five minutes.”
As if to reply, my stomach growled, causing him to chuckle. Flushing a bit, I gently rolled him back to his back. “I don’t think I can wait that long,” I said sheepishly.
He grinned, stretched, and sat up. “All right, then. Breakfast it is.”
We sat down at the table, and I was still aware that most members were openly staring at us. Though their gazes were piercing, I did my utmost to ignore them as I piled some eggs and bacon on my plate.
Despite the tension of the looming Hecatomb, breakfast was surprisingly relaxed. I chatted quietly with Isora, who sat next to me, while Ragnor, who sat on my other side, spoke with Magnus about making a cooking schedule for the next three days.
Once breakfast was over, it was time for us to head to the arena. And the relaxed, almost familial atmosphere from before shifted immediately.
By the time we entered the arena to head to our assigned gallery, most seats were already occupied by spectators from other Leagues. I looked around as Margarita, following the butler, led us to our assigned seats.
“Participants,” the butler said when we arrived, “you shall occupy the first row in your participatory pairs.”
Following that instruction, we participants sat down next to our assigned partners. Ragnor took the seat at the end of the row, with Magnus and Margarita right behind him.
A movement from the opposite side of the arena made me raise my eyes. More vampires trickled in, and when I squinted, trying to see who they were, I saw a spot of platinum-colored hair that made my heartbeat quicken.
It was the Atalon League.
“Bastard,” Logan murmured, glowering at the Atalon League members. “I never liked Lord Atalon, but even I didn’t think he would be so petty as to take his rivalry with our Lord this far.”
For a moment, I thought he was talking to Oberon, who sat on Logan’s other side, but when he glanced at me, anger in his eyes that, for once, wasn’t directed at me, I realized he was actually making conversation with me .
Clearing my throat to hide my surprise, I said, “Atalon is fickle and cunning. He was biding his time until the right occasion presented itself.”
Logan tsk ed and returned his angry glare to the Atalon League gallery. “Fuck him.”
I couldn’t agree more.
The crowd suddenly cheered, and when I scanned the arena, I saw a familiar figure, accompanied by two more I recognized, entering to the sound of celebratory music. As if the Hecatomb were a frat party rather than an actual fight to the death between two Leagues.
Lord Renaldi, along with his two Lieutenants, looked like he took his role as Hecatomb moderator and, apparently, a host, to the extreme.
He wore a loincloth that seemed like a miniskirt, which barely hid his essentials and only emphasized how thick, long, and muscular his legs were.
His wide, overtly toned chest was completely naked, and he wore a deep red cloak tied around his broad shoulders.
His dark, tousled hair seemed to be in even more disarray than I remembered, and his feet, sporting golden sandals, walked steadily on the marble floor until he reached the middle of the arena.
Zoey, who sat to my right, scoffed. “I can’t believe he dressed like a fucking gladiator.”
“Not even a historically accurate one,” I murmured in response. He looked as if he’d tried to mimic the look of the warriors in 300 or something.
When the cheers died down, Renaldi’s Lieutenant, whose name was Stefan, handed him a cordless mic. “Welcome to North America’s twenty-second Hecatomb!” Renaldi called into the mic, grinning toothily. “The first one to occur in over twenty years!”
Everyone cheered again. I didn’t, and neither did the other Rayne League participants. Because in truth, there was nothing to cheer about.
Renaldi spread his mic-less arm and slowly turned to face the other side of the arena. “This Hecatomb is going to be between the oldest League in North America—the Rayne League—and the most illustrious League in the United States—the Atalon League!”
A large spotlight suddenly shone over our gallery, and the two large screens at the top of the arena blinked to life, with the right one showing our League’s gallery and the left, the Atalon League’s.
“Now give your grand applause to this Hecatomb’s participants!”
The spotlight now shone solely on the first row. I squinted at the blinding light, while the cheers in the arena grew deafening. The Rayne League’s screen showed the participants, and I couldn’t help but think that I looked almost constipated on that screen.
“Today, we’ll finally uncover the five battles that will take place tomorrow!” Renaldi said with an abundance of excitement I couldn’t for the life of me relate to. “But before that—let’s introduce the participants!”
I stilled, feeling a wave of anxiousness go over me.
With everything that had been going on in the past several weeks, I hadn’t given any consideration as to who Atalon League’s participants would be.
I thought of Eleanor, Oz, and Fareez, the three vampires who’d been purchased by Atalon along with Isora and me during the Auction four months ago.
I wondered if they were here, about to spectate this clusterfuck, and hoped not.
“From the Rayne League, we have ... Oberon Grimes, Sulien Salvador, Neisha Barnes, CJ Maron, Cassidy Jones, Zoey Rittman, Aileen Henderson, Logan Kazar, Haneul Kang, and Yelene Yarnikova!”
It almost felt like we were players in a football game being called one by one.
It was even more unnerving that the spotlight moved from each one of us to the next as our names were called.
We all looked quite stoic and somber on the screen, which, I believed, was the appropriate response on this occasion.
“And now, from the Atalon League, we have ...” Renaldi said as a drumroll echoed in the arena. “Fareez Goshenan, Demetria Holsten, Eleanor Simmons, Jebediah Ackerman, Oz, Laurenia Olivers ...”
I stopped listening, feeling sick to my stomach.
Because all I could hear echoing in my head were the names Fareez , Eleanor , Oz .
And when I saw their faces on the screen, my heart dropped, and I realized I had heard right.
The three vampires, other than Isora, whom I’d been on good terms with, maybe even friends with, while being at the Atalon League, were put here to be pitted against me.