Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
athena
I was numb. I was not a woman in my own body, but simply a wandering mind. A void of consciousness.
It was nice.
Until the pain slammed into me, dragging me back to this world. Dragging me back to reality.
Dragging me back to hell.
They knew. They knew. They knew.
They knew Sinner and I weren’t claimed. They knew we’d lied about the whole damn thing.
I opened my eyes and squinted against the blazing sky. God, had the sun gotten brighter? I was laying on concrete and a gritty layer of gravel. My skin burned against the surface as I pushed myself up, fighting against my aching body.
Everything hurt. In a matter of seconds, I relived every punch from last night. Every blow.
Or maybe it wasn’t last night. I had no way of knowing how much time had passed, but it was certainly no longer nighttime. I prayed it had only been a few hours, and not days.
Regardless, the war games had begun.
Shit shit shit shit shit.
I scrambled to my feet, the adrenaline pumping through my body clearing the fog in my mind. I was still wearing the floor-length black dress. Great. And my shoes were nowhere in sight—not like they’d help me much, anyway.
And I’d been dropped in the middle of what appeared to be…a concrete jungle.
The scene around me was beautiful yet terrifying. It looked like an abandoned city. Full of the crumbling remains of buildings and overgrown plant life everywhere. There were real streets—real cars, real evidence of an electrical grid and plumbing.
But there wasn’t a soul in sight.
It was eerily silent.
I took a few steps on the gravel.
Barefoot in the war game with no preparation, no idea what was happening, and no idea where I was?
Really great start.
Sinner. My heart clenched. I had to find him.
The one good thing? Along with the swarm of pain and anger and confusion—I could feel. The shields had been lifted. The weight suppressing my power was gone, along with the weight suppressing that connection to Sinner.
If my power was back, that meant the games had started.
Vigilant of my surroundings, I crept toward the closest building and walked with my back to the concrete. Some of these structures were over ten stories high. It would be easy for someone—or something—to hide out. To watch me.
To target me.
And I’d been laying there in the open for god knows how long.
Without knowing where I was headed or what I was looking for, I started moving.
And I wouldn’t stop until I found him.
I crept through the abandoned city for an hour without encountering any signs of life.
I’d yet to come across the outskirts of town.
A border, a wall, a gate. Anything. There was nothing but concrete and city remains for as far as I could see, which, to be fair, wasn’t far due to the structures and the overgrowth.
Maybe I was alone out here. Maybe I was the only one in this place—maybe that was my punishment for lying.
I felt both relief and horror at the thought that I was the only one here. Relief that Sinner wouldn’t have to suffer through this hell, too. And horror that I might actually be alone.
No. I shook off the fear. Alone was better. I’d always preferred the thought of suffering alone. And—fuck—after what I’d done to Leon last night, I deserved to suffer.
I quickened my pace. My feet had pretty much lost all sensation. Between the tiny rocks, the random nails and screws on the ground, and the heat of the crumbling pavement, it was a miracle my feet weren’t bleeding. Yet.
The object of the war games was to test us. But in which ways? Test our magic? Our loyalty? Our usefulness to the Ministry? I wasn’t really sure which.
But it was safe to assume we were being watched.
God, I was thirsty. So fucking thirsty. My stomach growled from hunger, and the bruises all over my body throbbed. Plus, the sun continued to beat down on me and reflect off the concrete around me, blinding me.
But I kept going.
I had to find him.
I measured time in breaths. Breathe in. Two steps. Breathe out. Repeat. I did this over and over again, trying to push away those creeping, demonizing memories. Memories of the urine running from that man’s body last night. His corpse splashing in it just a few moments later.
Leon’s tattoo. His pale, lifeless face.
Director’s smile after I’d killed them.
Two more steps. Another breath.
I kept this up until the shrill sound of a whistle rent the air, stopping me in my tracks.
This wasn’t the chirping of a bird or the howl of the wind.
It was deliberate. Human.
I held my breath and scanned my surroundings.
Just when I thought I’d totally lost my mind, I heard the whistle again.
It was coming from above me.
I craned my neck and shaded my eyes against the blinding sun, peering in the abandoned windows of the nearest building.
A shadow moved—quick enough that I almost missed it.
I lunged for the nearest doorway, but the knife flying at me sliced my left arm and clattered against the concrete behind me before I could take cover.
Fuck. Blood sprayed. My scream echoed off the buildings.
Oh, yes. The war games had most definitely begun.