Page 34 of Awakening Storm

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Theodora floated intotown on Game Day as she usually did, but this time she was thoroughly ticked off. Actually, she had been since leaving that Guardian on the road. And now the game had ended short. She expelled a huff of air. It didn’t matter; she hadn’t been watching anyway.

The leaders of the two factions she’s created—Mamushi and Habu—presented their dead for the tally. She scanned the crowd, glaring. “Really, people. This is a pitiful showing. It’s as if your hearts aren’t in the game.”

She counted the bodies. Mamushi team won with seventeen kills. She slid the prize bucket of extra food and blankets to their side of street. The men and women hurriedly scooped items up, hugging them tight to their chests, and scampered into the building.

“Habu team, I’ve got nothing for you.” She laughed. She loved saying that line, loved seeing their faces fall.

With a swirl of her scepter, the dead were healed and put back together. The group moaned in pain as they became whole again, an added delight to seeing them die over and over again.

“You need to do better next time or there will be a penalty. Got it?” She didn’t wait for anyone to answer. They knew better than that. So she just vanished in a puff of red smoke.

* * *

Each side gatheredtheir men and women and disappeared back into the buildings.

Aidan ducked through the unhinged doorway of the Falcon gas station, keeping Rhianna close to him, almost blocking her from view in case Theodora were to return. He wondered if she could find them anyway. Probably. But that wasn’t something he’d dwell on now.

Now that they were concealed within the station, Rhianna leaned against him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her. Thank god she was safe.

Three men entered, two of them supporting Dillon Savage by his arms as he stumbled through the doorway. They were all breathing hard, all seeming to still be in shock. Which was understandable. They had just witnessed—hell, been a part of—an ancient war game. The only difference was that the fallen were brought back to life, the epitaph of the phrase “live to fight another day.”

Aidan combed Rhianna’s hair back with his fingers, searching her face. “Are you all right? Any injuries?”

“I’m fine. Just a few bruises,” she answered. She rested against him for a minute and then stepped back, looking at the other men. “Aidan, this is Steve and Dillon from the TV show. You already met Sean.” She paused a beat, her expression shifting from relieved to one of concern. “Are you guys okay?”

They nodded and grumbled.

“So it plays out like a video game for her entertainment,” Aidan muttered.

“I guess. This was our first time,” Steve said, agitated.

“She took us from our ship and dropped us here,” Sean explained. “We had no idea what was going on. But the people here are quick to tell you. And if you look at their necks, there are marks that indicate how many times they’ve died and been brought back. Evidently, ‘Game Day’ takes place once a week.”

Dillon’s gaze darted around frantically. “That sucks.” He finally released his death grip on his sword and let it drop to the ground. He rubbed his wrist. Blood stained his clothes. “I’ve . . . I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“At least you have another chance live and find a way out of here,” Aidan said.

Dillon nodded as he pressed his lips together, clearly trying not to lose it. He hung his head and folded his arms in against his body.

Steve looked off in the distance. “Is there a way out of this hellhole?” he asked.

With a heavy sigh, Dillon pulled himself straighter. “The poor son of a bitches have to go through this over and over. You can’t believe how painful it is to die and wake up. No wonder they become expert fighters. The best don’t get killed.”

Rhianna pulled away from him suddenly and looked up at him, confused. “Wait. What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I came to get you out,” Aidan said. “Any ideas?” He was trying to lighten the mood, but it wasn’t something he was very skilled at.

Rhianna didn’t smile, but tears glazed her eyes. “Thank you,” she said. “No. Just know we gotta get out of here,” Rhianna said.

Dillon rubbed his temple. “I’m tired.”

“Look,” she said to Aidan, pointing at Dillon’s neck. “A black mark. Like Steve said.”

Aidan squinted at the tiny slash. “Some of the people had them all the way around their throats in rows.”

Dillon closed his eyes, his face full of anguish.