“How are we to guard ourselves from that?” I asked before I could stop myself. I didn't know proper procedure for questioning the teacher here. At my old school, I would have been sent to the office for speaking up without permission.
“I'll teach you,” she answered as if I'd done nothing wrong. “When the time comes.”
For several hours, she lectured about the Arcadians, about their overcrowded planet, and their genetic makeup, so different from ours.
I absorbed it all, typing constantly—and praying there weren't too many typos. It was fascinating.
“All right, girls,” Le'Ace said. “I've told you about the Arcadian body. Now I want you to apply what you learned. Go.” She waved a hand toward the door. “Ryan awaits you in the cage.”
Ryan?
My pulse thundered to a gallop. Whatever “the cage” was, I didn't care. I was just happy to get to see Ryan again.
9
We rode an elevator to the basement, each of us silent and unsure. To distract myself—Ryan!—I finally piped up with, “Has anyone been to the cage before?”
A chorus of “no” filled the small enclosure.
“I don't know about the rest of you, but I can't wait to see Ryan again,” Dani said with a wicked grin. “That boy is hot!”
Murmurs of agreement circled, and I fought a wave of jealousy. A part of me considered him mine. My property. I had a crush on him, which meant I wanted him to be hands-off to the other girls. So what that he was forbidden to date me? So what that he might not feel the same about me?
He was cute. He was (sometimes) sweet.
“Oh, cool,” Jenn said. “Look.”
I followed the direction in which she pointed. There were multicolored buttons on the side wall and there was a screen on the back wall that flashed images of Arcadians fighting humans.
A preview of our next class, perhaps?
“Word on the street is you've fought side-by-side with him, Phoenix,” Jenn said. “What's he like?”
I didn't have to ask who “he” was.
Dani's eyes widened. “You fought with him?”
“Yes,” I answered, “and he's okay.” I didn't want to increase their salivating.
“Okay?” Cara nudged my arm. “That's all? Come on. Surely there's more.”
“Nope. That really is all.” Except maybe, he's mine. And, don't touch.
When did you become so possessive?
Since last night, when he'd invaded my thoughts and all I wanted to do was kiss him.
“I wonder what we'll have to do in the cage,” I said, taking us back to the subject that had started all the wonderings about Ryan. Would we be locked up? Forced to fight each other? I chewed on my bottom lip, wondering how that would go over.
Boys could fight and make up, no problem. Girls couldn't. None that I'd met, at least. Girls held grudges for every scratch.
“I hate that we're forbidden to date the instructors,” Cara whined, disregarding my subject change. “I'm already imagining the things I could do to Ryan….”
Grrr. My teeth gnashed together. Maybe fighting in the cage wasn't such a bad idea. Cara could use an introduction to my fist.
All this anger over a boy who probably doesn't remember your name?
He'd remember, I thought, chin lifting. He'd even tweaked my nose. Actions of a brother to a sister, idiot.
“If top brass is going to have a nondating rule like that,” Kitten purred, “then the instructors need to be ugly.”
Everyone laughed. Even me. She was right. So far, every instructor I'd seen was a candidate for a beefcake or angelcake holocalendar. I guess I understood the need for a certain body type, though. To catch predators, you had to be fast. You had to be strong. You had to be flexible.
I wasn't particularly fast. Or flexible. Yet. But I would be, I vowed. I'd work hard. I'd exercise. I'd—gag—eat right. Maybe Ryan would notice me as more than a sister type then.
“What kind of meals do they serve here?” I asked. More important, when was breakfast? If the food was anything like what I'd endured at rehab, I was going to suffer. Small portions, bland, and gross.
Before anyone could answer, the elevator doors glided open and the light inside it dimmed. All sense of amusement faded from our group as darkness enveloped us.
“What is this place?” Kitten whispered.
“I can't see anything,” Johanna said, unsure. “Can you see? Can anyone see?”
“It's like a black hole,” Lindsay breathed.
Like the others, I couldn't see anything but gloom and shadow.
“Do we enter?” Dani asked quietly.
“We might as well.” A little nervous, I took the lead and moved forward. I kept my arms outstretched, trying not to bump into anything. I encountered a wall and turned away from it. “This is probably a test.”
“Maybe we're supposed to stay in the elevator to pass,” Jenn said with a shaky lilt.
“Maybe that's the perfect way to fail.” I hit another wall and cursed under my breath. “We're in this together. We'll be fine.” A moment passed and none of them moved. Or rather, I didn't hear any of them move.
“All right,” Kitten said. “Let's do this.”
I felt her inch up behind me, latch onto my arm, and we moved forward together. I tripped once, twice, but kept going. The room we'd entered was blacker than the elevator and—wait. Three slivers of golden light trickled from the ceiling and onto the floor. I moved toward them, but couldn't make out any of the room's features. It was like stepping straight into midnight on an abandoned street.
A few seconds later, my eyes adjusted and I could finally see something beside black and three golden rays. The floors were concrete with jagged lumps scattered here and there. Rocks? My brow furrowed. Why were there rocks inside the room?
My palm brushed a wall, and I halted abruptly. I heard the others do the same.
“This is where you will learn to fight,” a male voice said, only a short distance away. Ryan's voice. “Welcome.”
I shivered.
He stepped into one of the muted beams, yet shadows still pulsed around him, hiding most of his face. He was a slash of dark in a room of black. “Jog in place while I speak,” he said.
“Wh—what?” I asked, still reeling from his sudden presence.
“You heard me.” His tone was stern, commanding. “Jog in place. All of you. Now.”
Pushing out a breath, I hopped into motion. Elbows and knees slammed into me as the other girls did the same. Grunting, I spread out as best I could. Stupid darkness. (Stupid Ryan. He hadn't seemed overjoyed to hear my voice.)