Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
Bart’s eyes were on stalks as we walked through the stadium of the Ultimate Strong championships.
I could hardly blame him; the amount of gorgeous, muscled flesh on display was insane.
Competitors streamed in from all around the world for the first round of the games.
Teams in tiny matching outfits swaggered around the entrance, broad shoulders and bubble-butts everywhere.
I snapped my fingers, already tense. “Focus, please, Bart. We need to find a berserker.” I nervously chewed on my lip. We’d lost so much time already, especially having to waste precious minutes having Nate heal Cress’s broken arm and Donovan’s black eye.
Both of them had still been brawling when I came out of the bathroom, fully dressed.
At a loss, I begged Cecil—on his second bucket of popcorn—to stop them.
I didn’t want to order him to do it, so I told him I was going to ask Violet to redecorate herself with modern farmhouse matching flat-pack furniture sets, and paint feature walls in every room if he didn’t do something.
Grudgingly, he waited until Cress leapt into the air to deliver a cross-body elbow drop to Donovan’s gut, tossed a sheet over her, and used his magic to turn it into a frilly pink dress.
She was so outraged she abandoned the fight with Donovan and chased Cecil all the way to the pub downstairs, where he hid in a wine fridge until she finally cooled down and went to get changed.
My nerves were so on-edge, I could barely think straight. The worry for Audrina had ballooned overnight. I kept imagining her somewhere dangerous and cold, kept captive by purple-skinned monsters, crying out, all alone. We needed to find a berserker.
From what I’d learned, finding and abducting a berserker was going to be difficult for a few reasons.
First, they were supernaturally strong, hyper-focused monsters, and one of them could probably beat all of us to death if they were motivated enough.
Second, berserker magic only manifested when they were channeling their emotions into physical strength, so while we might find it easy to spot one on the arena floor while they were competing, they would join their team when they finished their round, and we’d end up having to fight multiple overpowered monsters instead of one.
By the time we got to the stadium, we still didn’t have a plan. I hated not having a plan.
Watching the crowd in the atrium, I gnawed on my lip. “Maybe some of us should go in and watch, and some should wait here to grab a berserker as soon as they come off the floor.”
“I have a better idea.” Cress made a beeline straight for the registration table. “I will infiltrate the competition and find one that way.”
“Cress,” I called patiently. She turned. “You have to qualify for this competition.” I gestured around to the muscled-up competitors swaggering in their tiny booty shorts and crop tops. “They have trained their whole lives for this.”
“Fine,” she growled. After glaring around for a moment, she followed a blond woman with braids into the bathroom and came out two minutes later wearing her outfit. “Problem solved.” She adjusted her wristband. “I’m going in.” She strode into the competitor’s area before anyone could stop her.
Bart skipped past me, following the Bulgarian team inside. “Let’s go with your plan, Sue. I’ll go in and call you if I spot any purple magic.”
I rubbed my temples. “God, this is like trying to herd cats and get them to find a needle in a haystack.”
At least Eryk and Nate were obedient. They stood to attention in front of me, with Cecil—now a large golden Labrador wearing a service animal jacket—sitting patiently in between them.
Cecil had been too much trouble as a baby yesterday, so I insisted on a different disguise, thinking he wouldn’t get into any trouble as a working dog.
So far, he’d peed on two security guards and stolen a hotdog out of a little girl’s hands.
“Something is wrong,” Donovan muttered. As usual, he was just behind me, looming over me like a broody protective umbrella. I’d been trying not to look at him. Despite witnessing his ridiculous and very confusing brawl with Cress, the aching feeling inside of me had somehow gotten worse.
I couldn’t help but glance up at him quickly. “What is it? Is it Connor? Is he here?”
“No.” He shook his head. “And that is what is bothering me.” He gestured to the floor. “There is no trace of banwyn. I cannot feel any hint of dark magic that Connor might have used to find and capture a berserker. He is not here. And he may not have ever been here.”
“Why would Connor have given up the hunt? He was hunting us, right?”
“I do not know. I had assumed he had heard rumors that berserkers had abducted the Chosen, and, like us, he was trying to find one, so he could get to you.”
“They must know she’s not the Chosen One by now.
And he’s not here.” I closed my eyes for a second, dread swirling in the pit of my stomach.
“We’re hunting a berserker so we can find Audrina, but it might already be too late.
Connor could have her. Or the berserkers might have killed her when they realized she wasn’t me. ”
“Perhaps. They have a ferocious reputation for mercilessness when they do not achieve their goals.”
“We’ve got no choice but to stick to the plan, though,” I said, gnawing on my lip. The idea of having to sit in the stands and watch the competition—possibly for hours, while Audrina’s life hung in the balance—felt like torture.
Donovan nodded. “Our options are limited.”
I longed to smooth away the dark circles under his eyes; he looked so tired.
Despite all the sleep I had, I was restless, almost itching out of my skin.
“There’s got to be a better way,” I said.
“Cress has the right idea—infiltrate the competition—but there isn't much she can do while she’s stuck on the competition floor in front of a crowd.” I checked the information board.
“According to the program, the first open round goes for two hours—the competitors stay on the floor the whole time.”
For a second, I watched the people bustle around the stadium entrance.
“I need a clipboard,” I muttered. “And a lanyard. Cecil!” He trotted up to me, and I leaned down to talk to him. “I need you to style me.”
He snorted. “What do you think I did this morning, Chosen? The sports-luxe aesthetic doesn’t suit you as well as French Riviera casual-chic, but it was the best I could do.”
“No,” I said. “I need a different look. Business casual.” I looked up and met Donovan’s eye. “Me and Cecil are just going to take a quick bathroom break. Okay?”
Donovan glowered down at me. “Why?”
“I’ve got an idea, but I need a costume change.”
“What kind of change?” Cecil narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously. He was much cuter as a Labrador, so it was hard to take him seriously.
“I need you to style me like one of those women.” I pointed. “So, I can get behind the scenes. Maybe sneak into the berserker’s changing room, or something.”
Cecil turned his head, looked, and shuddered with his whole body. “You want me to dress you like that? Like an… an official?”
“Exactly.”
“The roomy brown pants that highlight the fat upper pussy area? The shapeless custard-yellow polo shirt? The—” Cecil paused and gagged dramatically. “The sensible wide loafers?”
“Yes. Come on, Cecil. It’s for a good cause.”
“Yeah, if the cause is a crime against fashion!”
“It is a good idea.” Donovan nodded and took my arm to help me up. “I will come too.”
“You’re not going to pass for anything other than security, Donovan, and there’s already too many of them.” An idea hit me. “Do you still have that concealment cloak?”
He shook his head. “The magic that weaves the cloak together falls apart very quickly. The cloak has already disintegrated, and we are too magically depleted to make another.” He didn’t let go of my arm.
For a second, his dark green eyes bored into mine; I saw a hint of desperation there.
“I cannot let you into the berserker’s lair by yourself, Chosen. They are too dangerous.”
“Well, it’s not a lair,” I replied mildly.
“There’s no need to be dramatic; it’s just the changing rooms. I have a feeling they’ve got a warm-up space back there.
If I can get in, scope it out, find a berserker mid-warm-up, I’ll come up with some excuse to lead him away so the rest of you can ambush him in a quiet corridor.
Then, you can do your thing.” I squirmed for a second.
The thing was going to be torture; there was just no getting around that.
“And we can find out where they’re keeping Audrina. ”
Donovan shook his head grimly. “I do not like this at all.”
“Connor’s not here,” I said gently. “You said so yourself. The berserkers are the only threat to us here. If I can separate one, you can work him over, and we can get the answers we need.”
He stared at me. The muscle in his jaw clenched, just once.
“I’m going to take that as acquiescence.” I smiled. “Come on, Cecil! Let’s go change.”
He trotted dutifully at my side, heading towards the accessible bathroom, fake gagging the whole way. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” he groaned.
“This is why you’re here, Cecil,” I reminded him. “You are the company stylist. It can’t be all couture and prêt-à-porter.” I locked the bathroom door and turned to face him. “I’ve never seen a Labrador look so salty before. You really can work miracles.”
He growled. “Bitch, just close your eyes and stay still.”
I dutifully squeezed my eyes shut. A flurry of air surrounded me, like I was caught in a mini tornado. “This goes against everything I stand for, you know,” he said moodily.
I opened one eye. “Are you done?” I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and grinned. “Perfect.”
The custard-yellow polo was baggy in all the wrong places, clumping around my middle and hanging off my shoulders.
The tan trousers were cinched in with a skinny plastic belt just above my belly button, creating a bulge around my lower tummy.
A lanyard hung around my neck with a security pass and a timer.
“Clipboard,” Cecil said, nudging it towards me with his furry nose.
“You’re a genius, Cecil.” I parted my hair in the middle, tucked it behind my ears, and tied it at the nape of my neck.
He let out a moan. “You are physically hurting my eyeballs right now.”
“You’ll get over it.” We hurried out of the bathroom, back to Donovan.
The crowd in the atrium had thinned, everyone beginning to take their seats for the pre-competition entertainment.
I glanced at my stopwatch for the time. “I think we’ve got about an hour before the competition starts.
You three stay here. I’ll take Cecil and scope out the change rooms and the practice area, find a berserker and bring them out here, and we’ll ambush them in that bathroom. ”
Donovan glared at me. “How will you bring one out here?”
“I’m a judge. I’ll just tell them they’ve been randomly selected for a drug test.” I grinned. “They’ll be forced to come with me.”
He scowled for a moment longer. “Lady Bronwyn suggests voicing my thoughts more often.” He shook his head grimly.
“I do not like this, but it is an excellent plan, Chosen. I am deeply uncomfortable. You are cunning and wise. I admire and curse you at the same time for the position you have put me in.”
“Thanks.” A blush warmed my cheeks. “You’re beginning to let go of control, Donovan. You’ll have to tell Bronwyn; she’ll be proud.” There was no more time to waste. “Come on, Cecil.”
I power-walked past security and down the corridor in the direction of the competitor area, putting a swing in my hips as I passed checkpoint after checkpoint without anybody stopping me. “Oh, this is nice. It feels good to have some sort of momentum, don’t you think, Cecil?”
“Sorry, Chosen. I’m trying not to vomit. I can barely look at you.”
“Stop being such a drama queen.”
“Stop being such a bitch,” he muttered back.
“And you should quit talking. You’re a dog.” The winding corridor led to a catering area. I kept walking with purpose, my head held high, passing event managers, coaches, competitors, security guards and caterers and, as predicted, nobody stopped me.
Nobody even looked at me. A clipboard and a lanyard were like a skeleton key; you could get in anywhere if you acted confidently enough.
The hallway branched off up ahead—stadium entry on one side, performer area and greenrooms on the other. Without hesitation, I took a left towards the performer area.
The traffic in the hallway grew thicker with competitors. I watched them all carefully for signs of purple skin or flashes of fuzzy magic, but there was nothing so far. I checked each sign as I passed and spotted the one I was looking for. “There. Changing rooms.”
I ducked in the door to the left and quickly ran my eyes over the space. It was practically empty. Only a handful of coaches milled around, half-heartedly folding sweatpants and rummaging through gym bags, not a trace of purple magic to be found.
I backtracked, striding down the corridor. “Aha!” A flimsy printed sign taped on the wall said warm-up rooms. An arrow pointed down another hallway. There, each door had a team name stuck on the front with tape. It looked like some individual teams had been assigned their own spaces.
I poked my head into the first room and looked. A dozen people milled around inside, stretching, twisting, jumping lightly on the balls of their feet. Apart from being jacked to high heaven, they looked completely normal—not a trace of magic.
I backed out and glanced into the next one. It was empty.
The next door was closed. I pushed it open and stuck my head in.
Twenty enormous purple monsters turned and stared back at me.