Chronicles of the Uprising (Trilogy 1): Trilogy 1 (8 page)

Mira stood outside of her Patron’s door awaiting his answer. He’d called her up in the middle of the day. She’d barely had time to comprehend what was happening before she was yanked out of her cell and thrown into the hot steam shower. As much as she enjoyed that new luxury, she’d have liked it to be after she’d had a chance to fully wake up.

“Stand clear,” the handler shouted at her, and roughly gripped her shoulder in an attempt to pull her backwards. The lock clicked softly and Lucian’s door slid open.

Her Patron stood on the other side, plum collared shirt unbuttoned down the front and black silk trousers belted at the waist. Despite her aversion to humans for the way they treated her kind, Mira couldn’t help but appreciate the bit of washboard stomach she could see. Lucian might have been Elite, but he was no fatted pig like so many others.

“Good day, Mira,” he addressed her directly.

She nodded but said nothing.

Lucian turned to the handlers. “I’ll take it from here.”

With a grunt of agreement, the handler relaxed his grip. Mira shrugged away from him and stepped inside her Patron’s suite.

Before the door had a chance to fully close behind her, Mira blurted out, “Did you have me pulled from this weekend’s match?”

Shock at her outrage had clearly stolen Lucian’s voice. Mira watched the confusion play across his furrowed brow.

“Yes, I did. Why?”

Mira took a breath, trying to calm the anger in her voice. She had already started off on the wrong foot with him. She was lucky he still wanted to be her Patron. “Why are you interfering with my life?”

“Sorry, I thought you abhorred killing. I was trying to do you a favor.”

“You want to do me favors, get me the hell out of this place.”

“Watch your tone, please.”

“Why? Or you’ll have the handlers put me in the lightbox?”

“No. But the walls are not thick enough to conceal raised voices. Do you really want to alert the handlers to our conversations?”

He was right and Mira knew it. She let out a deep sigh. “Sorry.”

“And what is a lightbox, anyway?”

“Torture.” She blurted the word out. There was no way he could be that clueless, could he?

“I’m not aware of any torture. I understand there are… reprisals for infractions committed by the… vampires kept below.”

If she hadn’t been so enraged by his response she might have laughed at the business-like way he said it. “And what exactly do you think these ‘reprisals’ are?”

He stood silently for a moment, his brow creasing and relaxing. Mira could almost see the wheels turning inside his head. He really didn’t know what was going on.

“Reduced rations, I assume. Perhaps lack of social time.” Lucian was grasping at some kind of intelligent answer, but Mira knew better.

It was all she could do not to burst out into maniacal laughing. “What the hell is social time? Do you mean training? Otherwise known as the mini-arena? Do you know how many of my kind die during these… reprisals?”

His cheeks flushed a delicious shade of crimson. It was hard for Mira not to stare, nor to begin to salivate at the sudden jump of his heart rhythm.

“I was unaware.” Lucian tried to compose himself, but his heart betrayed his embarrassment.

“Yeah, it sounds like there is a lot you’re unaware of. And you’re a Regent?”

“I’ll thank you not to poke fun. My station demands a little respect.” There it was, the authority. There was no mistaking that arrogance and self-important tone.

Mira stood stiffly at attention and wiped all emotion from her face. “Yes, sir.”

His composure wavered. Lucian threw his hands in the air and almost growled in frustration. “You know, I have done nothing but try and be helpful, and you throw nothing but scorn and mockery at me.”

“Permission to speak freely, Regent?”

“You see? This behavior. If I were any other man, you’d have lost yourself a Patron. But I am not just any other man, and I am trying to show you exactly that. Despite your numerous attempts at trying my patience. Yes, Mira. Speak freely, dammit!”

She’d overstepped and she knew it, but the damage had already been done. Mira softened her tone a bit. “Perhaps instead of trying to help me in ways you feel are best, maybe you should try asking what is needed.”

“I did try asking, last time you were here. But, as I recall, someone was very uncooperative.”

“Can’t be helped. You can’t be trusted.”

“And we’re back to this again. What if I told you I was working on a way to get you out of here?”

Mira’s eyebrow quirked up, but she tried to hold the rest of her face still. “Why?”

Why indeed? Was he hoping to catch her off guard? Let her run and take him straight to where the vampire safe haven was? Yes. That had to be his plan.

“Tell me about life in the arena.” He walked to the couch and sat. Without looking back at her, he picked up a glass from the side table next to him, took a sip, and then set it down. He seemed to be moving slowly, purposefully, as if to ensure there was enough time to let the weight of his words sink in. “Let’s forget our mistrust for now and just enlighten me on what it’s like to live your life here.”

She did not move from her spot. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making her come over to him and spill her secrets. Mira couldn’t figure him out. If he was truly clueless and willing to help, she couldn’t be sure, but she saw no harm in telling him what went on in the arena and the pits — and especially in training — leaving no gory detail undescribed. She made sure to spend extra time on the lightbox, the starvation, the painful punishments–like having their fingernails and toenails removed when they had lost fights but had not been condemned to death. When she was through and satisfied she had shocked and horrified Lucian enough, she smiled and innocently said, “Have you heard enough?”

Lucian turned from his spot on the couch, his hand covering the horror of his expression. “Mira, I didn’t know.”

“What did you know?” Mira scoffed.  “Or did you even care?”

Lucian stood and came to Mira, taking her hands in his, a small gesture, but one that added an infinite amount of confusion to Mira’s anger.

“I know it is not an excuse,” Lucian said with sincerity, “but I grew up with this – the arena, the games – as entertainment. I never actually gave thought to what happened behind the scenes.”

Mira threw down his hands and took a step back from Lucian. “But you were okay with us killing each other in the public eye?”

“Again… not an excuse. But I was raised to believe you were all savage creatures. It’s not the same.”

“Bullshit!”

To Mira’s surprise, he let her foul language slide. If she’d said that to anyone else, Mira would have surely gotten a blast from a UV torch, or a slap across the mouth at the very least. Even more surprising, Lucian appeared to nod agreeably. “I know. And I’m not defending myself or the people who raised and educated me.”

“So what changed your mind?”

“I’m not entirely sure my mind is changed, but you…”

“What about me?”

“You’re… not… what I expected.”

Mira wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that.

“You could have easily killed those guards. You could have killed me.”

“Yes, I could. And I’m still considering it.”

Lucian sucked in a breath, but his expression remained calm, flat, as if her words had not shaken him.

“But I don’t kill unless I have to.” And she wouldn’t have wished that death sentence on herself. Getting caught killing a human of any class was a one-way ticket to a flaming death. Not that Lucian wouldn’t already know that, but at this point, her motives would still appear pure.

“I see that. And hope you’ll not have to anytime soon.” He smiled congenially, but Mira could see the discomfort behind his eyes. “That is why I had you removed from fighting duties.”

“You can’t keep me from the arena.”

“You really want to go back there?”

“People will ask questions if I don’t fight. I’ve got a reputation. And so do you! What do you think people will say when the Regent’s favorite suddenly stops fighting in the arena?”

The corner of his lip quirked up. “Smart and politically minded. You are so full of surprises.”

“As are you.” She still couldn’t figure him out. Part of her, a very small part, wanted to trust him; he seemed so sincere. But he was a Regent, an Elite. A human. They could never be trusted. He had to have some ulterior motive.

“Fine. I will not interfere with your arena schedule, but if we are to help one another, I’ll need you to be a good girl and play nice.”

The way he said “good girl” had her hackles up, but she tried to tell herself it was meant in a playful way. “What is it exactly that you want from me?” She hoped for a straight answer, but doubted seriously she’d get one.

“My interest in you is genuine. You perplex me. I want to know the truth about your kind. For my own personal understanding. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

The com-link bracer round Lucian’s wrist buzzed, and a mechanically enhanced male voice said, “Regent, sorry to bother you, but I’ve just spoken to Magistrate Mathias Robertson, and he is on his way to personally inspect the new facility. He’s coming by train this evening.”

All the color faded from Lucian’s face. He pressed a button on his bracer, took a deep breath, and said, “Thank you, Murphy. Send his itinerary to my assistant. I’ll greet him personally at the platform.”

“I take it this is not a good visit?” Mira asked, not caring if the person on the com-link heard or not.

Lucian took another deep breath and shook his head. “We’re going to have to cut this visit short.”

Something had him seriously spooked, and from the sound of it, this new facility, whatever it was, was probably the cause. “What, no foreplay?”

That seemed to get a smile from him. Worried or not, he was still a man. Mention, or even just insinuate, sex and you had their full attention.

“Sorry, no. I know most patrons require special services, but that was not why I sponsored you. I do genuinely want to get to know you and learn the truth about your kind, and I hope you’ll understand this sooner rather than later.”

He did it again, saying things that made Mira want to trust him. “Well, then, I’ll see myself out.” She turned and headed for the door.

“Nice try. You know there are at least two guards posted to the other side of that door. You wouldn’t make it ten steps.”

“Can’t blame a girl for trying. And for the record… I’d have at least made it to the lifts.”

“I’m not a betting man, but I’d take that action.” He smiled. Mira couldn’t help but smile too. For a human, he really was attractive, and seemingly good-natured. He reminded her of Theo in that way. He’d had a disarming smile and infectious laugh once upon a time ago. “Let me cuff you and we’ll send you off with your escort.”

“Such a gentleman.”

“I do try.” He placed the silver cuffs around Mira’s wrists and watched her curiously when she winced. “Do they hurt?”

“A little, but it’s no real bother.”

“You don’t always have to act tough.”

“Yes… I do!” She pressed the button on the side of the door to open it and found two guards armed with UV torches and semi-automatic rifles. “Hello, boys… ready to take me home?”

The cell door closed behind Mira with its usual clang followed by the mechanical clicking of the lock, but for once, Mira wasn’t analyzing the sounds for clues on how to break free. Still a prisoner, still stuck in hell, but somehow at that moment, she was okay with it. Maybe she could trust Lucian. She didn’t want to get her hopes up, but Lucian had mentioned getting her out. If he intended to help even in the slightest way, she might finally taste that freedom she so desperately desired. But the realist in her threw a wet blanket on those burgeoning hopes. Humans could not be trusted, a fact Mira had had beaten into her on more than one occasion. Nice words and some small comforts shouldn’t turn her head so quickly. She needed to be smarter than that.

Mira stood idly in the center of her cell. To anyone looking, she might have been sleeping on her feet, but inside, she was silently warring with herself over how to feel.

“How did it go this time?” George asked?

“Why are you so nosy?” She hadn’t meant it to come out so nasty, but he’d shaken her so abruptly from her thoughts she hardly recognized it was George and not one of the handlers.

“Mira, be nice.” Unfazed by the hostility in Mira’s voice, George had not lost his congenial tone.

“Sorry. Just… I don’t know about this guy.” She scooted close to the bars, wrapping her fingers around them, using the sting of the silver to ground her in reality. “He’s not interested in me… in that way.”

“Really?” His brow lifted. “What the hell are you doing up there?”

“Shhhh. Keep it down. He just wants to talk.”

George’s expression flashed between confusion and intrigue. “About?”

“Our kind.”

“Vamps? Or gladiators?”

“How many non-vampire gladiator vampires have you met?”

“Right, I’m just confused. Why does he want to know about vampires?”

“I don’t get it either. He seems completely clueless about how we live, what we’re like, and what happens to us down here.”

“Bullshit. He’s a Regent.”

Mira let go of the bars, her hands burning from the silver. She looked down at the angry red hives blistering her palms, a physical reminder of the truth – that humans were the ones who imprisoned her. “That’s what I was thinking. He’s an Elite. He has to have something… some ulterior motive.”

George nodded. “So… what did you tell him?”

The blisters on her palms faded, but the lesson remained. “I told him every gory detail about the lightbox, training, and rations.”

“Well, no wonder you didn’t have to perform. You probably killed his mood.” George laughed. “I know I wouldn’t be able to get it up after all that talk of torture.”

“I don’t know. I bet the handlers would get a hard-on hearing all about torture.”

“Touché!” George tipped his head. That was one thing Mira loved about her friend – he could always find the humor, even in the darkest of times. “So, your Patron… the Regent,” he said with flair, “really just wanted to talk.”

“Yeah.” She didn’t want to mention the part where he said he might be able to help her escape. George wouldn’t believe it. Mira still didn’t believe it herself, but the inkling of hope remained, and she didn’t need anyone to douse that small spark.

“Be careful, Mira.”

“I hear you. He was the one who pulled me out of the arena schedule too. But I fixed that.”

George shook his head. “I’d have stayed away from the arena if I were you. I heard the Magistrate is coming for this weekend’s festivities. My Patron was pretty excited. The Magistrate is bringing his best fighters, too.”

It shouldn’t have, but the prospect of new fighters kind of excited her. Mira was known as the ‘best of the best’ in New Haven City, a title that had earned her a bit of animosity among the rest of the gladiators. She needed the chance to branch out a bit. Create some new enemies. “Good. I could use some fresh blood.”

“Mira, you’re crazy, girl!”

“Look, I’m either going to die and never have to endure another day here in the pit, or I am going to win and get fresh blood, something I desperately need. It’s a win-win. That’s better than rotting in my cell, waiting for the Regent to call me up for another chat.”

“True… I guess. But if you have to languish in here waiting to chat with someone, at least it’s someone worth waiting for. You know he’s a man of power. It wouldn’t hurt to keep him happy.”

“Are you suggesting…”

“No. I’m trying to tell you in the nicest way possible that you need to do what it takes to keep this guy happy. Your reputation around here has got the humans wanting you dead just as much as your opponents.”

“Let them come at me. All of them.”

“See?”

“I’m supposed to be ashamed that I can kick all of their asses?”

“No, but you do flaunt it.”

“I’m a survivor. I do what it takes, and I’m proud that I’ve lasted this long.”

“I know. You’re the shit! But at least consider having someone else, besides me, on your team. You could do with a few more friends… or at least allies.”

Mira gave him a silent sidelong glance. She knew he was right, but she was not about to kowtow to a human, no matter how powerful he was. “I’ll do what I always do… survive.”

“I’m not really sure what that means, but I hope somewhere in that thick head of yours the message got through.”