Arena (23 page)

O
kay. So, yeah. I did that—on national television.

For a reason.

The seven-figure tabloid reward for our first kiss was shot to shit. There would be no grainy photos of a stolen moment outside the clubs, or on the roof of the facility. Sure, the magazines would still be pushing for pictures of us together. But no one—not even Clarence—could tell me how and when to be with Rooke now because I already had. In front of everyone. On my terms. Not theirs.

I opened my eyes to the pod's interior, panting and trembling. My head swam, and my hands shook. Every part of my body tingled, though I doubted it was from plugging in. I closed my eyes and counted my breaths as I negotiated with my hormones to take a step back. Turns out, I'm a bad negotiator. Virtual or reality, they wanted only one thing.

Rooke.

The pod's doors retracted. I pulled myself out and met Rooke's stare. He stood in front of his pod, staring at me, blinking, as if he couldn't fully process what had just happened between us, whatever he had felt, or was still feeling. Hell, I half expected him to touch his lips to make sure they were still there.

Around the room, the programmers stared with wide-eyed, openmouthed expressions. Guess we weren't the only ones who'd been surprised by the kiss.

My teammates pulled themselves out of their pods, glanced around, then exchanged looks with each other. They might have been unaware of what happened in the arena, but they were picking up on the awkward tension in the room.

Elise rifled out of her chair. “That was a hell of a show!”

Hannah looked around again and took a step toward us. “What did you do?”

On the screen above the door, the footage cut to Marcus Ryan and Howie Fulton, the VGL announcers. They sat behind their booth, blinking for a few seconds, stunned. Then, Marcus shook his head and cleared his throat.

“Defiance wins,” he announced, his voice wavering with shock. “Uh . . .”

“They are your losers' bracket finalists,” Howie finished for him, coming into his own. “Stay tuned as we go through highlights of the season and prepare for the championship round.”

The theme music played, and the camera started to pull away, but not before it caught the tail end of their conversation.

“Well, I guess that's why they've been staying in so much.”

“I think we found the climax for tonight's highlight reel.”

“Probably won't be the only climax of the night.”

Then, an off-camera voice shouted, “We're still on the air!”

I smiled, never thinking that in a world so perfect, I'd be so happy to see a crack in the façade.

A hand came to rest on my shoulder. I turned. Hannah stood directly behind me. “Seriously, what did you do?”

She glanced between me and Rooke a few times. I looked up at him, wondering what to say. He shrugged. “We could demonstrate.”

I reeled back to smack him when Elise poked her head around her screen. “Kali, Clarence wants—”

“To see me. Yeah, yeah.” I started for the exit.

“No. Both of you.” She motioned at Rooke.

“Of course.”

I grabbed Rooke by the sleeve and led him out of the pod room. Inside his office, Clarence peered at us over the steepled fingers pressed against his lips. I was beginning to think that was his favorite pose. It made him
look both powerful and insightful at the same time, for those who didn't know better.

“You can tell the tabloids I'll take my million dollars in small, unmarked bills,” I told him.

“Those don't exist anymore,” Clarence replied.

I smiled. “Neither does the reward for our first kiss.”

My smile grew even wider. Up yours, tabloids.

“Yes. Now they want more.” The cell phone wrapped around Clarence's wrist buzzed. He glanced at it. “The phone hasn't stopped ringing, mostly from sponsors. They all want you, both of you, to be the face of their campaigns. Clothing, however”—he cleared his throat—“won't be part of the shoots.”

I swallowed.

Wow, did the air density just triple in here or what? Well, that little plan just turned around and smacked me in the face. Yet my gaze slid to Rooke in the next chair, still dressed in his pod suit. Just what would I find beneath?

Rooke spoke up. “Again, I'm not entirely opposed.”

My fist itched for action until the cell phone buzzed again.

“Why aren't you answering it?” I asked Clarence, seizing the chance for distraction.

“Keeps them desperate. Makes them think I'm already busy with others.”

My heart fluttered. I'd just found my out. “So I guess it's a good thing then for us to stay inside the facility where no one can see us. You know, leave them desperate.”

“Well . . .”

“Think about it. All this came about because no one saw us together for a week. After that matchup, that kiss, people will be knocking down the doors to see us. And if we don't let them, if we stay inside, no sponsors, no photo shoots, nothing, guess what that will do for the popularity of the tournament? If the only place where people can see us together is in the championship match, then everyone will watch.”

His eyes glazed over as he considered it.

“Think of the ratings,” I added. “The most-viewed championship in history.”

More glaze. He rocked in his chair a little, though I doubted he even realized he was doing it.

“Yes, yes,” he said, nodding. “That's a good idea. In fact”—he paused—“maybe it's best for everyone on the team to stay in until the championship round. It will add more mystery to all of this.”

I pressed my lips together to stop them from spreading into a smile. “Yes, you're right.”

“Right, well,” he began, eyes still shining like sugar-covered doughnuts. “Good job. You're dismissed.”

Rooke and I left the office and walked silently down the hall, no sound other than our feet padding along the corridor. We stepped into the elevator. The doors closed.

I exploded.

I screamed. I jumped up and down. I tackled an unsuspecting Rooke against the elevator's side, still screaming and jumping.

He laughed. “I never thought you'd find a way to convince Clarence that staying in to prepare for the fights was in the best interest of the team.”

“It should be the norm,” I said. “For every team. And we should be able to have some free time once in a while.”

“Yeah, right.” He laughed again. “Why don't you go back in and ask for that? You seem to be on a roll.”

“That's all right. I like my head still attached to my body.”

The elevator doors pulled open and we walked through the facility's ground floor. A commotion pulled us into the rec room, where my other three teammates sat poised on the couch across from the wallscreen. Lily sat in the middle with a bowl of popcorn in her lap. All three were still dressed in their pod suits, as if they'd run straight from the pod room, and the idea of changing was irrelevant. Rooke and I hadn't changed either. At least we looked like a team.

“It's everywhere,” Hannah announced as we entered the room. “Seriously, like every other channel.”

Tablet in hand, she used it to flip through the channels on the wallscreen, her fingers moving in a blur. The frenzied look in her eyes made me think her finger was actually on the trigger of a machine gun.

“How can you even see every other channel?” Derek asked, motioning at the choppy blur on the screen.

You could, just barely. Shots of Rooke and me fighting together between commercials, cooking shows, and nature documentaries. It blended into one big blurry mess, as if someone had taken two old movie reels and spliced them together frame by frame. Rooke—a mop—me—spaghetti—swords—a hawk diving for prey.

“Hannah,” Derek exclaimed, slapping his hands on his knees. “I'm gonna have a seizure.”

She giggled. “I'm hitting the thousands now, and it's still going.”

Lily simply held her head with one hand and shook it. She munched on the popcorn in her lap.

Finally, Hannah stopped on the VGL's home channel. When our old friends Marcus and Howie popped up on the screen, Rooke and I retired to the couch. Scratch that. Rooke sprawled himself out so I had to squeeze into the tiny space between him and the armrest, right under the crook of his arm. Had he done that on purpose?

I glanced over his profile, but his eyes were locked on the screen. No cocky grin. No sly glance in my direction. I shrugged it off and turned my own gaze to the television.

The screen flashed through the tournament highlights, showcasing the best moves and kills throughout the last few months of tournament play, including the preseason matches. Spinning, kicking, blades soaring through the air. Gamers became the embodiment of martial arts and short-range weapons. They were gods on the screen.

Then, the footage cut to me in the center of the tower. InvictUS stormed through the entrance. Great. This, again.

I watched as I dodged their blows and delivered some of my own until I ended up on my back, pinned, bleeding out from the neck. I gripped my own throat and shook my head.

The highlights ended, and the footage cut back to the announcers. Howie beamed at the camera. “What a great season so far. We've seen some incredible plays in the RAGE tournament this year. Now that we've
finished highlights of the previous matchups this season, let's recap tonight's earlier event: Defiance vs. Rizing Nation.”

The scene cut to the sepia fields of the arena. Three lines carved their way through the stalks. The camera angle changed to eye level within the fields. Derek snaked his way through, the girls flanking him on either side. At her size, Lily moved so swiftly through the fields, the stalks barely shook. Stealthy little thing. Maybe she should go on offense more often.

Halfway through the fields, Derek held up a hand. The trio halted and dropped to their knees, crouching low. The stalks trembled only from the wind. Instant camouflage. The rustling fields and their breaths filled the audio.

Then came the distinct sound of the enemy charging through the fields. My teammates crouched even lower, making themselves as small as possible. The rustling grew and grew until the attackers soared past them on either side. One missed Lily by an inch. The axe in her hand trembled, like a magnet jerking toward another, as if the weapon itself desired the kill.

“Nice, guys,” I said. “Very smooth.”

“Thanks.” Derek beamed.

The paths through the stalks rippled away. When silence settled around them, my team picked up and continued toward the enemy tower. Slowly. I smiled. They were following my instructions. My teammates really did trust me. Guess I'd earned it.

The announcers' voices overlaid the footage.

“What was that?” Marcus sputtered, sounding confused. “Did they just let them go past intentionally?”

“Uh, that's a new tactic. Not sure what Defiance is doing here, but this should get interesting.”

The camera changed to the trio bursting into the enemy's tower. Two of Rizing Nation stood in the center.

Derek went for one while the girls went for the other. Nation separated.

Big mistake.

Hannah and Lily fought together, blades swirling through the air. Those two were Amazons, warrior women. Hannah took the high ground,
seeking out his head and neck, while Lily swiped at his legs and waist. He stumbled back under their wrath.

Lily jumped and spun, blades out. Her axe sliced through his neck, finally landing in the home it had been aching for. Blood speckled her face, but she landed softly on the ground with a menacing grin gracing her lips. A pigtailed psychopath.

“Lily,” I began, eyes wide at the screen, “remind me never to piss you off.”

She leaned forward on the couch. “Being on offense wasn't that bad, you know.”

The smile tugging at her lips told me the axe-wielding blonde enjoyed it more than she was letting on.

The girls joined Derek in his fight, where he was feigning and blocking more than anything. Just holding the remaining enemy at bay. So his sudden strike of pure strength threw his opponent off. When their swords clanged together, the opponent's tumbled out of reach.

Hannah pounced.

Together, Hannah and Derek slammed him against the tower wall and pinned him there, arms spread on either side. His eyes clenched shut as he waited for the kill. No one from my team moved. When death didn't come, he opened his eyes.

“What are you waiting for?”

Derek and Hannah exchanged glances and turned to Lily. She backed up several feet, reeled an axe back, and released. It tomahawked through the air until it struck the tower's wall right beside his head, missing by an inch. If the camera had zoomed in more for the shot, I bet I would have seen bits of his hair falling away from his head.

Lily retrieved her axe, backed up several feet, and repeated the same process, landing her axe a millimeter closer. She shouted at the tower's ceiling.

“Is this all you've got?”

The announcer's voice overlaid the footage. Marcus laughed.

“Wow. They've been training so hard, Rizing Nation isn't even a challenge for them.”

“Looks like nothing can stand against Defiance.” Howie paused. “Wait a minute. The rest of Nation just reached their tower.”

The footage cut to Rooke and me inside our tower just as our enemy broke through the entrance. We went back-to-back. Two soldiers became one as we fought off three enemies at once.

Derek shook his head. “Jesus, look at you two. You move together like one person.”

Lily nodded in agreement, and Hannah sat with her mouth hanging open.

When the fight ended, our own began, and I saw the replay of our little display of affection in full. His hands were everywhere, feeling every part of me. Clutching. Grasping. Desperate. The way Rooke looked at me, the heat in his eyes was so thick it radiated off the screen. How much of that was fake?