All eyes are on me, searching every inch for a possible flaw or defect.
Artemis takes his arm and wraps it around my waist, pulling me in tightly against his hip.
“Ladies and Gentlemen of the Tyre Press Corp, may I introduce you to Ms. Meg Farland, my lover.” He winks at the reporters, smiling at them like a true showman.
As the crowd stands up in applause, I can feel the ground spin.
He twirls me around, kissing me hard on the lips. I can feel my legs going out from under me, but his hands are on my back, propping me up. He thanks everyone just as we enter into the stadium. I try and pull away, but his grip tightens.
“Why did you say that?” I practically scream at him, but it only comes out as a whisper due to the volume of the audience in the stands.
“Who says it won’t come true, Trea? I’m a man of influence and money. If I want something, nothing can stop me from getting it.”
It is the first time in months that he uses my true name. I pull myself hard out of his grasp, almost knocking into the people entering in behind us.
“You’re insane,” I say, as I turn to walk away.
He reaches for me, grabbing the collar of my jacket, pulling me backwards. His hands close around my wrists, squeezing hard enough to halt the circulation. My right arm begins to tingle as my pulse pounds. I can hear the blood pumping through my ears.
“I own you,” he spats at me, “and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”
Rage soars through my veins. I’m sickened at the thought of being his lover, yet the sensations I’ve felt when he has touched me have been uncomfortably pleasant.
Why am I so conflicted?
He pushes me in front of him, guiding me to our seats, located five rows up from the arena floor, right in the center. The boxes are marked, so the general audience knows they’re off limits. Each Possessor is given two seats as well as two monitors: a private monitor so they can view the fighters before they enter the ring, with a communicator in case there are any last-minute instructions that need to be given, and a second monitor focused on the arena itself, a full aerial view of the battleground. Artemis has me sit on his left. He enters in his code for the private monitor, which then displays five of his fighters sitting in the holding area. As he is talking to Matt about the other fighters, I look around at the stadium, trying to locate the nearest exit.
The interior of the arena is a harsh gray metal, polished, and no glass. The sky above is clear blue, but a retractable ceiling slowly closes, shutting it out. The seats are upholstered in crushed red velvet, which is very comfortable. The wall surrounding the arena is made of pressed metal sheets, perfectly melded into the base of the stadium, but only comes up waist high. The arena floor itself is sizeable. The same gray metal covers the ground with intricate lines and curves swirling back and forth along the floor, but I don’t see any entryway for the fighters to access the arena.
I focus my attention to my task and scan for the exits, but the only ways in or out are through the entrances that are guarded by Regulators, and most of them are carrying Levin guns. I give up the idea for the moment, but know I need to get away from Artemis as soon as possible.
Time slowly ticks by as people try to find the last remaining seats available. Those who didn’t come early enough are stuck watching the screens outside as they aren’t allowing anyone to stand in the aisles, not even along the back wall behind the highest rows of seats. The lights dim as spotlights illuminate the arena floor.
Chapter 10
“Good morning, Tyreans,” a man announces in a booming voice that emanates from speakers inside the chairs’ headrests. “Make sure you have your favorite fighter picked for this opening battle day. In this series of battles we have forty contestants, the most we have had in two years. In addition, we have a special opening sequence for tomorrow’s phase, so be sure to get here early to get a good seat. Now, please sit back, watch the monitors in front of you, and let the battles begin.”
The crowd roars in applause and cheers. People begin to shout their favorite number, even though the arena floor is still empty.
A subtle whirring sound begins to my right. I look over and notice a section of the arena floor has given way, disappearing below. Seconds later it rises, carrying with it the first fighter. The section locks back into place with the rest of the floor, leaving the lone man standing amidst the harsh lights.
The fighter stands about six feet tall, dark, bushy hair covering parts of his arms and the majority of his head. His biceps are thick with muscles, and a Pugio blade at his side. He stands at the ready, waiting for his opponent to rise. The crowd grows silent at the anticipation of what is to happen next. The whirring noise begins again, this time from my left, as a piece of the floor drops away. I’m sitting at the edge of my seat just like the rest of the audience, waiting to see what will surface.
The clanking noise registers with me before I actual see what is coming, it’s the sound of a battle droid springing to life, moving around down below. The fighter steps onto another section of the floor, moving closer to the gap. The clanking gets louder the closer the fighter gets to the hole. I look down at my hands and notice I’m clinging tightly to Artemis’ arm, scared and thrilled with the expectation of what this fight might be
