Page 41 of Dance of the Phoenix (Cloak of the Vampire #3)
Aileen
The arena was filled to the brim. Vampires of many Leagues came to watch the “show,” and there seemed to even be bets going on, according to some conversations I heard here and there.
“Why does it feel like we’re at a festival?” I asked no one in particular as Logan and I took our seats in the Rayne League gallery.
“It’s better for the monetary gain,” Logan murmured in response, staring around the arena in disgust. “It feels like we’re in that movie. The one where kids kill one another for the entertainment of the upper class.”
Zoey, who came to take her seat next to me, gave the two of us an excited smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “It gives me an adrenaline rush like nothing ever did! I love this electric air here.”
Both Logan and I stared at Zoey in apprehension. The fact she actually seemed as exhilarated as she claimed made me feel sick. “Zoey,” I said quietly, “this is an illusion. Don’t let this illusion be your undoing.”
She shot me an almost reckless smile. “Don’t worry, Aileen,” she said, eyes glowing gold. “I’ll be fine. The pair pitted against Cassidy and me doesn’t seem to be much trouble.”
Her overconfidence made me dread it all even more.
I turned to look at the arena again, or rather, to the gallery on the other side. The Atalon League vampires had taken their seats as well, all wearing matching red-and-black tactical garb.
We wore the same type of tactical garb, only in navy blue and gold, the Rayne League’s official colors. It was made up of a pair of trousers made from a stretchy material, a skintight top, and combat boots that were easy to move in.
I saw Eleanor, Fareez, and Oz wearing those clothes, and it made my stomach churn.
As if on instinct, I looked to the side, searching for Ragnor. We hadn’t spoken at all since yesterday. He’d been cooped up in his room the entire night and this morning too. We’d even left for the arena without him.
I’d wanted to knock on his door and demand to know what he was up to, but something, a sixth sense maybe, told me to let him be. That he would find me when it was time.
Still, I could’ve used a long embrace and a few encouraging words to tell me everything was going to be all right.
Especially since my battle was the first one out of the five.
“I heard from Magnus that our Lord is preparing for his own battle.” Logan’s voice drew my eyes to him. He watched me carefully, his turquoise eyes almost sympathetic. “You might not see him before our battle.”
Knots filled my stomach. “But Ra—our Lord doesn’t need to prepare,” I said, frowning. “He’s the Ragnor Rayne, after all. He can take Atalon in his sleep.”
Logan shrugged. “Perhaps he doesn’t want to take any chances.”
Great. Now I had more anxiety than before. Because Ragnor, while cautious, was never paranoid. That didn’t sound like him.
The crowd suddenly cheered and whistled, and I turned my gaze to the arena, where Renaldi walked in, wearing an actual Greek white toga with a leaf band around his head, with his Lieutenants. It did nothing to soften his overly muscular body.
“Welcome, vampires, to the official battle day!” he now called into the mic, spreading his arms theatrically.
The cheers were deafening. My anxiety loomed over me, growing worse with every passing minute.
“Soon you’ll watch the Leagues battling it out!” Renaldi said with a wild smile. “The order of the battle is now on the screen!”
Seeing my name and Eleanor’s in the same line made me want to empty my stomach.
Logan suddenly took my hand and squeezed. I looked at him and saw he was still staring at the arena, at Renaldi. “We’re in this together, Aileen.”
His words warmed me so much that tears welled in my eyes. I would’ve never thought I’d hear such words from Logan, of all people. The man I’d hurt so much in the past, both physically and mentally. And he was able to get over it to be there for me.
“Thank you,” I whispered back, wiping the tears from my eyes. “Thank you, Logan.”
He kept holding my hand throughout Renaldi’s entire opening speech.
Logan and I were led to the waiting room by one of the butlers while a dancing intermission took over the arena to entertain the onlookers before the battles.
Much like the design of the arena’s corridors and rooms, the waiting room was also decorated in a Gothic style, with candles hung on black walls and extravagant sofas that seemed to belong in the Palace of Versailles. They were plush and comfortable, though.
As Logan and I waited silently in the room, the door opened and both of us turned to look as Ragnor walked inside.
My heart skipped a beat, though not because I hadn’t seen him since yesterday.
Rather, it was his state that took me by surprise: His wavy dark-brown hair was disheveled, his midnight blues were bloodshot and sunken with lack of sleep, and his face was grave, with a growing scruff, as though he’d forgotten to shave.
He seemed as if he’d aged, which was biologically impossible, considering he was a vampire.
His eyes found me, and there was a flash of something in them I couldn’t quite decipher. In less than a second, he was in front of me, grabbing me into a tight bear hug, his face buried in the nook of my neck.
“Aileen,” he whispered, voice barely audible. “Aileen ...”
Dread filled me at his tone. He sounded almost desperate. So un-Ragnor-like. “Hey,” I said softly, hugging him back, startled. “What’s ... what’s wrong?”
He didn’t reply, just hugged me tighter.
We stayed like that for a few long minutes. From beyond Ragnor’s shoulder, I saw Logan looking determinedly at the wall, probably trying to give us some semblance of privacy.
Finally, Ragnor let me go just enough so he could cup my face. “I love you,” he said suddenly, catching me off guard.
My lips parted, wanting to ask what had brought this on now, of all times, but when I saw his eyes and the unreadable look in them that made me feel even more dread than before, all I could say was, “I love you too.”
“Miss Henderson, Mr. Kazar, it’s time.”
Ragnor let me go, and I looked behind him at the butler, who was now at the door, looking at us.
Logan rose to his feet and gave me a nod.
I turned to look at Ragnor, whose face now contorted in rage that I knew wasn’t directed at me but made me question who it was directed at.
“Good luck,” he said, voice somewhat stifled, before he stepped back and left the room just as abruptly as he appeared.
Feeling uneasy for far too many reasons, I followed the butler out along with Logan, through the corridor, toward the entrance of the arena.
Before he left, the butler told us to wait in the entrance until our names were called.
That’s when Logan grabbed my arm, forcing me to look at him, and said with a grim yet determined look, “Whatever that was about, put it in the back of your mind. We have a battle to win now. You can talk to him after.”
Knowing he was right, I nodded, and then we heard Renaldi’s voice echoing in the arena, calling, “Please welcome the Rayne League’s Aileen Henderson and Logan Kazar!”
“Here we go,” Logan murmured, letting me go, and we both stepped into the arena.
The cheers were even stronger than before, full of vehement bloodthirstiness that made me feel even sicker than before. I looked up to see my face filling the large arena screen. It was pale and etched with trepidation. I looked like I was about to pass out at any moment.
Unable to look at myself anymore, I averted my gaze.
Logan and I stopped in the middle of the arena, and once we did, Renaldi called, “Please welcome the Atalon League’s Eleanor Simmons and Jebediah Ackerman!”
From the other entrance across the arena, Eleanor and Jebediah walked in.
The closer they got, the better I was able to see Eleanor.
I realized she was thinner than I remembered and that her tactical gear, while the same as other participants’, was covering a turtleneck shirt.
It made no sense to be wearing anything under this skintight tactical top, especially since it was humid and warm in the arena.
It gave me an ominous feeling I wished I didn’t feel. Especially when I saw Eleanor’s face and how emotionless it looked. As if she was operating on autopilot.
Jebediah, on the other hand, looked no worse for wear. I’d seen him around the Atalon League but never knew his name. All I knew about the blond-haired, green-eyed man that had an athletic build similar to Logan’s was that he was Gifted, though I had no idea what his Gift was.
Eleanor and Jebediah stopped across from us in the center of the arena. And then, Renaldi, from his spot at the host’s cabin, said, “Let the battle begin!”
And the battle I wanted the least to fight started.