His eyes were wild with rage and he drew back the lash. I watched it as he placed it at his side. “Just like you,” he said coldly. “Just like you disobeyed me.” Master stepped forward. Lifting his hand, he gently caressed my face. I flinched, expecting him to be cruel. But he wasn’t; he was gentle and kind. His voice softened and he asked, “Why, petal? Why him?”
My lips trembled as I pictured Ilya’s face in my mind. My heart swelled at the mercy thought of his smile and touch. My lips wore a small smile, and I said, “Because we are the same. With him I am someone. With me, he is someone, too. We make each other strong.”
Master didn’t move. A dark eyebrow rose at my answer, then he laughed. He laughed loud and true. He laughed in my face. My skin prickled as he sobered. Then, after a kiss to my cheek, he said, “You are not someone, pretty petal. You are a mona. I own you. My people took you from being someone, if you can call being an orphan someone, and I put you to use. But I own you, make no mistake about that. Just like I own him. On your own you are nothing; together you are nothing.” Master shook his head in amusement. But I could see his ire at my choice of Ilya over him. It was killing him inside.
As I stared at Master, as I felt the ropes digging into my wrists, I knew this was it for me. I knew I would not come out of this alive. I knew he would murder Ilya, too. I didn’t know how, but he would find a way to kill him in the final. It was two days away.
Knowing I had nothing left to lose, I found the courage to say, “There was no part of being with you that I enjoyed. You are a cruel and evil male. If you were to go toe-to-toe with any of the so-called animals you have created, they would tear you apart in seconds. They don’t hide behind Wraiths and guns. They don’t need the heavy drugs; your champions prove that. You sit on your throne, making me grovel at your feet. In reality, you should be the one groveling for every life you have taken or sullied in this pit you call your empire. What the rest of us call hell.”
My lips curled in distain. “I don’t remember my life above the ground, but whatever it was, if it was good or bad, at least it would have been mine. I would have chosen my own path. And I would never have chosen a male like you. Your touch is repulsive to me. You are repulsive.” I made sure I had his attention, and spat, “You, Master, are not worthy of me. It was never the other way around.”
Master glared. I wasn’t sure what he would do, how he would react. Then a smile pulled on his mouth, but it wasn’t a good kind of smile. It was cruel. It was a smile he wore when he ordered someone’s death.
Master’s nose stroked down my cheek. “You may have had a choice aboveground, petal. But you would have always been a whore. Every woman is a whore. I just make sure there are no mind games with my monebi. They serve and they get fucked … the only thing they are good for.”
Master stepped back, his hand tightening on the lash’s handle. “I saw you, petal. I saw you watching 901 as he trained. I saw the look in your eyes. And I saw it with the scarred mutant the New Yorkers brought in. I saw you watch him too, and him watch you.” He tapped his temple. “I stored it all away. Just in case you betrayed me, I kept note.” He shook his head with incredulity. “901 is a champion. An animal, but a champion. The scarred fighter, 194? I don’t understand the appeal of him, but you clearly did.”
Master cracked the whip at his side, my body jumping at the action. He smiled again at my reaction and moved around the posts to stand directly behind me.
I closed my eyes, feeling his warm breath as he kissed the side of my neck. “You held such promise. I thought I had picked well.” He tutted, then added, “But I was wrong. Your pretty face lured me in, and every other man in this pit.” Master kissed me again, and I wanted to throw up. His touch was like poison to me now. There was only Ilya who had me.
“You were my delicate flower, 152. My petal. And just like a petal, you will wither when ripped apart.”
My eyes opened. He stepped back. Three footsteps sounded on the stone floor. I heard the crack of the whip and braced for the punishment for my defiance.
“Just a few lashes,” Master said flatly. My breathing came fast as I prepared for the pain. “You seem to have a thing for scarred mutants. So let’s make you into one, hmm?”
It was several strained minutes before the first strip sliced along my back. But as the pain ripped through my flesh and the screams tore from my throat, I pictured Ilya in my mind.
I would die here in this room.
He would die in the final in the pit.
But I smiled as another strip hit, because we would each pass knowing the other’s name.
We would find each other again.
In whatever life came next.
14
ILYA
The room was covered in red as the mist of rage descended over my eyes. The guards struck, one after the other, the charge from their picanas singeing my skin. But I didn’t stop. I swung and lashed out. The guards tried to stop me, but every crush of bone or spill of blood only fueled me more.
My wounds from the fight were forgotten as I replayed Inessa being ripped from my cell by her hair. I had seen the look in Master’s face. He was going to hurt her.
He was going to kill her.
A loud roar spilled from my mouth, and I grabbed the nearest guard by his neck, lifting him clean off the floor. The others struck me with their picanas, bringing me to my knees. But I took the guard with me, using the last of my strength to slam him to the ground. The guard’s spine cracked on the hard floor, eyes rolling back in his head as his life drained from his body.
Shaking my head from the aftereffects of the electrical charge, I didn’t see the blow coming to the back of my head. I fought to keep awake, until my vision faded and I blacked out.
The next thing I knew, I woke with blistering pain throbbing throughout my skull. I forced my heavy eyes to open, my vision clearing to show me the wall of my cell. I frowned, unable to remember what had happened, when I suddenly remembered someone being dragged from my cell … Inessa!
“Inessa…” I growled low, my throat dry and sore.
Pushing off the floor, I staggered to my feet. The cell seemed to tip, and I fell against the wall. I focused on the cell door. Forcing myself to push forward, my hands felt along the wall, my muscles screaming for me to stop.
I ignored my aching body and wrapped my hands around the cell bars to keep upright. A guard stood on the opposite side of the champions’ quarters, his gun raised and aimed at my head.