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BITTERSWEET SYMPHONY

SEBASTIAN

I don’t want to be here, but it’s not like I have an option. Father swore that it would only raise our standing with the human government to participate, but I doubt that’s why he sent me. He’s in with the leadership of El Dorado One so deeply that he might as well be living in their colons—nothing I do will affect that either way. His true intent is to get me killed because I look like her . I grind my teeth together as I try to remember my mother, but she’s been gone since I was a youngling.

Every day Astaroth Whitmore has to look upon my face is one I’m lucky to survive.

The ironic part of this disaster is that everyone in this fucking place is ready to rip vampires apart, no matter who they are. These competitors don’t even know who I am yet or why they should want to destroy me—they simply hate my kind for the horrors of our elders. That includes my father, of course, and once someone figures out my lineage, they’ll all gun for me because of him. What they won’t know is that he doesn’t fucking care if I die in this bullshit experiment. He considers my sisters by other sires to be his heirs despite the fact that I’m older and smarter than all of them.

Even my own team is predisposed to hate me—a fact that I’ll keep very much in mind when we finally get to the quarters they’ve promised. I’m sure it will be extremely luxe compared to the filth they’re keeping the supes in here, but it won’t meet my exacting standards. Living in ED1 has spoiled me, for better or worse, and the trauma-based OCD I developed because of Father’s rigid rules will spiral if I’m not careful. I can’t allow anyone to see that weakness or notice that it leaves me vulnerable when I’m having episodes.

Astaroth had beyond high expectations for the appearance and cleanliness of his home which he held me to account for even if I had nothing to do with the mess. His punishments were cruel and scarring, but my sisters have never felt the burn of their application. Only the staff and I received those ‘lessons’ over the years. The healers in our prior city ignored the wounds, cleaning and patching me over the years, but once the humans moved us to sectors, a kind of old witch took pity on me and told me why I kept harming myself because I never felt clean. She told me his demand for perfection was so severe that I developed my condition before I was even a century old—a mere baby for a vampire—but I could learn to manage it.

I suppose varied providers is one benefit of being caged like zoo animals even though vampires helped those roaches corral the others.

Looking around the small courtyard they’ve spruced up for our journey from the bowels of the university to this ‘Victory Hall,’ I sneer. If you ignored the view on the way into the camp, you might even think this is how supes live in them. Hell, if you videoed the parts of ED1 where vampires and pet magic users live, you might be convinced the government is treating everyone well. But that’s not how it is in the rest of Tempest Seven, nor ED1, or any other camp in the country. The show plans on featuring only the hastily polished pieces they want the world to see, and then no one will ask questions about Taterman’s supernatural prisons.

I shouldn’t care; if I survive this, I’ll likely be sent back to my Father rather than this mythical Shangri-La they’re telling everyone they’re moving to. The way they described it to the supes who were brought in to fill out the teams was… suspect… at best. It wouldn’t surprise me if they simply ship the winners to places like my home until the world stops paying attention or they start all over again. Once no one’s paying attention to the ex-competitors, they can do whatever they want with them—even make them disappear.

That’s another possibility I need to make plans for.

“Listen up, everyone!”

Rolling my eyes as the bright-eyed humans in charge of the four teams who are taking this tour together stop in front of the Hall that must be our new home. It’s definitely been constructed recently, and there’s no way it was without magic because the original members of my team are looking at it in shock. They must have put a fucking cloaking spell over the damn thing, too. I pinch the bridge of my nose, wondering how much money and time has been spent setting up this farce. It seems like a fucking mint’s worth, which begs the question: why?

“Fuck me,” Sydney whispers as she stands between the bear and the cow-poke demon. “Where the shit did this place come from?”

The tall shifter shakes his head. “Hell if I know. We were outside a few hours ago. Even with non-chipped high-level mages and elves and… I mean, it’s just not possible.”

“Don’t be so sure,” the fear demon says as he leans into them. “This damn place coulda all been here for months hiding its light under a bushel. If they had the right folks doing the right chants, none of us would have seen it, and a little extra spice would make us all avoid the area so no one ran into the damn thing.”

Well, he’s not stupid. That’s a point in his favor, even if he is demon scum.

“They could have given this entire sector better food and housing for years for what that kind of shit had to cost.”

I chuckle to myself, as the girl at the epicenter of our team prattles on. She’s far too good for this kind of thing and that’s going to be a real problem. Given she has dick for magic, it makes her the concrete shoes of our team and it won’t be long before the snarling dragon and flirty mage decide she’s not worth getting killed over.

I’m not sure how I feel about that, but then, I’m persona non-grata, anyway.

After an annoying speech about the building, the rules, and every other bullshit thing the guides could think of, they finally herded us into the front doors. Admittedly, I wondered if we’d get inside and it’d be some cardboard-looking IKEA nightmare slapped together with wood glue. My eyes rove over the much less upsetting atmosphere of the lobby, taking in the comfortable looking public spaces in the sunlit foyer.

No one will use them, but it doesn’t look like shit so far, which is good.

My point is made when Krista takes over the tour, babbling about the ‘shared’ spaces on every floor for competitors to engage with the others on their floor. Teams look at one another suspiciously when she finishes, gazes narrowing and shoulders hunching as they scowl. Putting all these frustrated, desperate people in a race for a better life was never going to encourage friendly mingling. If nothing else, those stupid spaces will become prime real estate for teams to plant nasty surprises for one another if they can muster them.

“And now your coordinator will take your team downstairs in the elevator to the training basement. Everyone, stay with your team and make sure to catch the car you belong to.”

Rubbing my temples in overstimulation, I move as close to the others as I can without feeling unsafe or worse, germ-infested. Damn near everything about this day is triggering my issues and despite my amusement at the girl’s indignation and naivete, my control is waning as it drags on. I need to get somewhere quiet, unbreachable, and clean pretty soon. Otherwise, I have no idea what the hell I’m going to do.

“Why the fuck does it matter how we get into an elevator?” Sydney grumbles to the bear.

He shrugs, his focus on the flirty mage. That idiot is beyond in love with the unemerged woman and he’s terrified by the additions to their tiny clique. “No idea.”

“A small enclosed space without monitoring would be an ideal place to take out players before the games begin.”

I arch a brow, impressed by the dragon’s quick and accurate response. He’s moving around the group in what he probably thinks is a random pattern, but I can tell it’s not. It appears the stoic looking criminal has problems staying still for long periods. I wince when I realize he’s been somewhere where he’s locked down much of the time and might have traveled a long distance in that ridiculous serial killer cage. It had to be absolute torture based on his size and the hyperactivity he’s trying to mask.

The brash mage claps him on the shoulder, earning him an even darker scowl. “Don’t be shirty, man. I’m congratulating you on an excellent observation.”

“I don’t need your praise, spell sucker. Unlike you, I’m comfortable with my assessment of myself.”

Ouch. Talk about an arrow to the knee—Elias is brutal.

Normally, I’d find that fairly appealing. Supes who aren’t cheery fools, idealistic rubes, or ass-kissing whores are few and far between in El Dorado One. Finding anyone who can keep up with my brain and my wit is a serious plus in my book. Unfortunately, I’m separated from the rest of them by more than physical distance. I’m one of the bad guys—as far as they know—and my opinions won’t be appreciated.

“Team…” The perky woman frowns as she looks at us. “We definitely need a team name. That will help immensely with branding you. For now, let’s get moving… shoo!”

Sydney rolls her eyes, but follows the demon into the carriage, and the bear immediately boxes her in. The mage and the dragon go next and finally, I have to enter the tight space full of people who hate me. My eyes dart between the others and the walls of the damn elevator, trying to decide which one is worse to touch. Krista doesn’t notice, she keeps babbling about the center we’re headed underground to visit.

I couldn’t give less fucks about the subterranean gym and pool they have for the teams to get ready for the Games in.

“Are you people fucking kidding me with this shit?!”

My lips quirk as I look up at the ceiling. Sydney definitely cares about this luxury, and I doubt it will be the last thing we see that sets off her fiery temper. Even if she’s not jaded enough to take on most of the people she’ll need to in the Games, her temper and her spirit are a force of their own. It’s a shame this competition is going to beat that moral compass out of her, but I’m also interested to see what happens when the crusader goes dark.

I enjoy seeing pretty things turn deadly; it’s a vampire thing.

“Syd, they’re modeling this after… like athletes. Remember the Olympics?”

The bear is trying to reason with her, but even I realize bringing up the past isn’t the way to calm Sydney down. She gives him an angry huff before replying, “It’s only been four fucking years, not a century, Thad. Of course I remember the goddamn Olympics.”

“He’s trying to say the Games are like that, sweet pea. They have to give us places to train up.”

She elbows the demon and the other three guys snicker. “All of you shut the hell up. I understand the concept of elite games and training. I’m fucking furious they’ve spent all this money to do this here and fuck knows how many other sectors all for the amusement of humans around the world. There are people in this damn town barely surviving and it’s a fucking travesty.”

Spinning away from the group, she hunches into the corner diagonal from the one I’m plastered into. I can tell by the miniscule movements it takes vampiric eyes to see that she’s struggling not to cry. Tilting my head, I watch quietly, wondering how it would feel to be that compassionate all the time. I don’t think I could handle it, but obviously, she was raised this way before the Sweeps.

Krista clears her throat when the elevator dings, pasting on a fake smile as she pretends the whole thing didn’t happen. “Okay, team. This is the gym. It has all the modern conveniences and there will be specific trainers and staff assigned to monitor each team during their time here…”

Everyone shuffles out, and I watch Sydney take a deep, shuddering breath before she turns to face the exit.

“What are you looking at, asshole?” she growls as she stomps past me into the room I know I’ll dread daily.

To be truthful, I’m not exactly sure—and I don’t know if I want to find out.