Page 39

WHAT YOU SEE IS WHAT YOU GET

SYDNEY

Nothing about this training is making me feel any less apprehensive about the assholes in charge. It’s laughable that they’re sharing their fucking playbook for taking over America with those they put under their boot, but I’ve never assumed the people at the top had any self-awareness. In fact, I question that most of them even have a goddamn clue what most of these words mean. No, this strategy was developed by educated, slick puppet masters, especially since it was used to fool leaders of species that should have damn well known better.

I guess even supernaturals can have a blind spot with dangerous idealism.

“Syd, you okay?” Thad murmurs as we head for the next session. “Lunch is coming soon, if that’s what’s eating you.”

Arching a brow, I give him a stern look. “I’m not hangry—well, not just hangry. This manipulation stuff makes my skin crawl.”

“Prefer the blunt ‘in your face’ honesty approach, mm?” Sebastian smirks at me knowingly. “That will work well in some situations, but a lot of this will be very Machiavellian. If the Games were simply ‘to the death’ fighting, it wouldn’t matter. But adding in this popularity aspect makes everything much more difficult. They’re giving us just enough training to get through the first round, I’d say. After that? We’re probably on our own.”

Huck nods as he lopes alongside me. “Reckon I agree with the mosquito. They won’t bother giving much in the way of training once the shitshow is up and running, sweet pea. That will leave us to fend for ourselves—total Darwinism in every aspect.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sigh. “I know, guys. I’m not na?ve enough to believe these dickheads are going to be helpful. In fact, I assume they’ll do all sorts of dirty shit to sway opinions in the direction they choose. I’m just adjusting my entire worldview to include everything I’ve learned since we were tapped.”

“Let her have the time to process when we are not in front of them.”

Turning to look at Elias over my shoulder, I give him a small, grateful smile. The dragon often interjects when the others are being too overbearing or too demanding. I didn’t expect it, but I appreciate it more than I can say out loud. “Exactly. I’m sure I’ll get my shit together soon, but I have to let this stuff simmer until it’s cooked.”

“Speaking of which,” Rory pipes up. “Putting these bullshit classes before lunch makes me want to stab myself in the eye with a fork.”

“Agreed.” I reach for the door to the corridor, but Thad gets to it first, smiling as he holds the door open. “Stop that shit.”

“I can’t. We’re supposed to pretend to dig you,” the bear replies cheerily as we find the classroom the schedule lists for Style even I’m not so socially inept. He’s clarifying that my team will not stand for the professors doing certain things—which isn’t a bad thing. We haven’t had a human male instructor yet, but I doubt they’ll be any better than the females. The guards at F.E.A.R. certainly made every day a challenge with their abuse of authority; I don’t want to think about what the shit weasels in this place will do.

“Sebastian, I think she gets it, buddy,” Huck says as he smirks at the woman. “Miss Larson knows our girl isn’t to be trifled with, so we can get back to dressing for success now.”

The brunette woman backs up carefully, tottering as she puts space between herself and the intimidating bloodsucker. “Understood, Mr. Whitmore.”

Sebastian’s serial killer look fades to a pleasant smile as he nods, then goes back to his seat. “Good. I abhor miscommunication.”

For fuck’s sake.

“Ahem.” Shoshana coughs as she rifles through some papers, obviously still trying to get her bearings. “Your assignment for the next class will be to use the software on your tablet to plan fake looks for several scenarios. Obviously, you will not always have access to such an array of items as the app provides, but the point is to judge how instinctively you can combine them.”

Thad groans softly, looking up at the ceiling as if pleading for help. “Barbie fashion creator shit? Come on, man. Can’t we just fucking stab things?”

I blink, my lips quirking up as I smother a laugh. Thad can smash things, especially in his bear form, but he’s more of a cuddly teddy bear than a killer. I think he hates this shit as much as I do. “Apparently not, Thad. We have to learn to work the runway and gut our enemies to win this thing.”

Rory laughs, tilting his chair back precariously. “I would pay good money to watch you do a supermodel walk, Vicious. It would be the highlight of my month.”

“Good fucking luck with that. Sydney won’t be caught dead strutting around in heels and a ballgown,” Thad retorts. “She’s all bad ass and no frills.”

“That won’t matter if they make us go to some big ass party or dance,” the vampire cuts in. “Then we’ll all have to show our style and flair—or whatever the fuck they say to do. Right, Shoshana?”

The terrified human is sitting at the desk now, her posture rigid as she keeps it between her and us. When no one continues, she finally nods. “Yes, that’s correct. We have been told there will be many scenarios—fighting, formal, sporting, hunting, social, and more. You could very well be put into formal attire for a social event that is televised and incentivized in various ways.”

Incentivized—just fucking peachy.

“I assume that means every single time we’re filmed it’s considered an opportunity to build that relationship, then?”

Rory’s question is on point, but I think we all know the answer by now. He’s making the human say it out loud on purpose, though. We all need to hear her confirm we are expected to sell ourselves at every turn to survive this and win the FHSA, the goodwill world-wide they so desperately need.

“Yes, Mr. Stormbringer. Winning requires a great deal of focus, sacrifice, and humility, but the reward will be worth it.”

Dante makes a disbelieving sound and I grin. Of course, none of us truly believe the dictators who control our lives to keep their fucking promises. We hope, we wish, and we dream—but the truth is that we’re planning the revolution because they cannot be trusted. Supes tried that before the Sweeps and look where we all are now. But humans like Shoshana don’t have any real context for the seething hatred or mistrust we have for them because they don’t think they did anything wrong.

“Just wanted to make certain I understood you correctly.” He looks at me and I jerk my chin up, getting his point. “Because I, too, despise a lack of clarity.”

Gee, guys, why don’t you just hold up a blinking ‘do you get it, now, Sydney?’ sign and be done with it.

“Excellent. Now, before class ends, pull out the tablets so I can go over the program you’ll use to create your portfolios for the next class.” Shoshana waits for everyone to follow her instructions, and I stifle the groan before it eludes me.