Changeling Winds: Episode Two (The Bachelor Battles Book 2) (2 page)

Chapter One

1

“Welcome to the Network Games check-in console. Please place your hand on the scanner.”

Candice Marie Pruett had come through an episode of the Bachelor Battles last month and gotten back her mate after he'd been sold to The Network. She’d not only won the episode, but intimidated everyone so thoroughly, that if she had signed on to defend her title, the program might have folded from lack of contestants. Candice, with her harsh grin and unblinking confidence, was the reason I'd found the courage to come but I had a different motivation.

“Please drop your ID into the box and choose a game.”

The light computer voice sang it repeatedly, and I dropped mine in with a heart of ice. It was the
future
that drove me, not the past.

“Processing...
”

Thanks to a war that had lasted only a single day, finding a mate to ease this torment was no easy task and this was the only way open to me. If I wanted a man, a chance end to this torment (and I did - more than even my own life) then I would have to fight for one.

“Enter your choice now...”

Mirroring my cousin's gloating expression, I pushed the largest button and spun around, smirking at those who were recognizing me with dismay. The Pruett name was well known.

I observed the vast, round reception hall intently. When the tall, lean girl with the crooked nose chose the same game, I marked her, openly assessing. I could see she was instantly leery of me, hoping I wasn't one of this week’s contestants too. My grin confirmed the thought, and she paled.

In the weeks since my cousin's brutal victory, the Network had expanded the games. Besides having fourteen females to kill instead of nine, unlimited visits with the Bachelors were now a part of the competition and the viewing world liked these intimate moments almost as much as the fighting. It drove up the ratings when replayed, as would each violent cage match I needed to survive to earn the visits - all the while possibly dodging attempts by the other contestants to kill me as I ate and slept.

Fun
, I thought, as the room became crowded with females - both normal and infected. Temperatures in the stone and tile hall began to rise and there was an edge of menace in some corners, snarled growls of warning floating sporadically through the black and silver room.

Out of the mix, I only spotted two contestants who made my heat flare - partially by the way the crowd parted so quickly to let them through. The first was a tiny woman. No more than 5' 1", she wore the Network logo on her bracelet, telling us she'd finished the time trials ahead of everyone else. Or maybe she'd sewn it on herself, like my cousin Candice had for her match after stealing the patch from the real winner.

Either way, I knew before she hit the Bachelor Battles button that she was someone to be careful of. It was in her walk and her relaxed stance. It said she wasn't scared of much, let alone any of us. It was the same impression she’d given when we raced in the final heat of the trials. If not for my intelligence, it would have been me wearing that patch instead of Kim Lee.

I’d set out to get it and realized at the last moment that I didn’t need the extra attention it would bring. I took a dive and kept my lower-profile cloak around me like an old friend. It would come off with my first cage match, but for now, it was a shield that I wielded very well.

The second female who drew my attention was average height and weight, with only her eyes (my dangerous, unreadable black) to give away the threat lurking inside. They said she'd come to win, but I didn't back down or flinch from her Changeling glare the way others in the hall did. I was eager for the first match to be underway and I was currently surrounded by females that I was almost allowed to kill. The temptation was powerful.

Outside, arriving Mopars and horses were a constant noise as more females came for a chance at this week’s lot of prizes. A rare few could afford to ride the sleek Network train to their match and the sounds of New Network City were loud enough to overpower the murmur of a hundred voices in the hall - the braying of sniffing hell Hounds and the cries of their victims were our background music.

A small explosive had been detonated in an eastern part of the city yesterday and now, people were being questioned. Rebellion from any source was a growing threat to the secure hold the Network had over everything and innocent blood would keep decorating the filthy sidewalks until the guards got answers.

The four females I'd already discounted were now huddled nervously near the Network guards that stood along the photo-covered walls, and I took my attention away from a set of familiar pictures as a soft chime sounded.

“It's three bells and all is wells.”
There was an awkward, computer-generated chuckle at the forced rhyme and then the voice continued,
“Please report to the Main Arena by 5:30 sharp. Those not signed into the Block on time will be disbarred from this episode. And remember, no battling until the Official Start at Sunrise.”

There was a short pause, and then another airy chime as the gates at each of the five arched doorways slid open.

Casting wary glances at each other, the females began to leave the wide-pillared reception area. I hung back, letting the rounded hall empty. It would have been safer to travel the narrow, photo-lined corridors in the pack, where the guards would be the thickest, but I was waiting for the stragglers.
And was glad.

The trio came in together a few minutes after the gates opened and it horrified me to think the sisters had willingly signed up for this. Sickened, I watched the triplets pick the Bachelor Battles.

The females were pretty and obviously wealthy, but they were the kind that wore a new pair of quartz gravity boots once and then threw them out instead of donating them. They were the kind who flocked to food shelters to dole out holiday meals, and threw orphan girls off their door stoops during the rest of the year. They were the kind who underneath, would do anything, pay anything, to get what they wanted.

I wondered why they hadn't bought a male from the Network like their kind usually did. Then I recognized the last female to select the Bachelor Battles and stiffened in surprise. It was Chelsea Bush.

I thought of the illegal news station we liked to listen to between bounty runs, the report we’d heard. Chelsea’s father had been found aiding a group of rebel males that had missed the train hijacking. Upon a complete search, the Bush family had been charged with more than ten violations of Network Laws. The sentence for their mother was death.

The sisters were here as high-profile outcasts, now poverty stricken from the heavy fines. My guts churned. They’d been sent to regain favor and refill their credits. It was a great deal for their families and for the Network, who would use the famous sacrifices to keep the Games popular. There were a few open calls now for he violent programs to be outlawed and a more fair system of male distribution to be created, but few citizens I knew were listening to the protestors. I hadn’t thought the Network was feeling pressured enough to do something so drastic.

The sisters turned toward the center door and I sent my gaze to the photos of my family, noting their wild faces and bloody hands. Then again, the Network would do just about anything for ratings… control.

I held my place until each and every contestant entered, dropped in their IDs and made their final choice - literally. Out of the fourteen I might fight, eight were no threat.
The other six?
Unknown.
I would have to see them interact to surmise more.

Fighting the urge to roam, to find a distraction during my free hour, when the last chime sounded and triggered a lock on the main door, I headed for my room. No one would come in or out of this section of the complex until the episode was over, until I’d spilled enough blood to coat the walls.

I knew these halls already, knew which way to turn, and was pleased to find myself next to the very cubicle my cousin had been in during her week of battles. I’d been here then too, kidnapped from another hall. That had been the last straw for me. I’d signed up the same day I was rescued.

More fun,
I thought sarcastically. Unlike my fearsome cousin or my wild sister, I wasn't so hard and dangerous. Sure, I had a skill for picking out weaknesses and yeah, I had a trick or ten that I'd been perfecting for years. What mattered was nerve. Did I still have enough to do this, knowing that my worries on the two-day ride here hadn’t been unfounded? Not all of my matches were a given.

I slung my kit onto the chipped green counter while listening to that angry voice inside. There was still time to withdraw, until the sunrise chime. Should I?

Could I?
That was the better question, I realized. Could I live with myself?

I scowled bitterly. No. Even without the family reputation to live up to, there was the cold bed waiting for my return… the painfully
empty
bed. I didn’t want any of those frightened bachelors, but I
needed
one. The Change had come and turned me into something else, something that hungered and burned endlessly. I had to try to get a mate, a cure. Even death would be better than this constant struggle for control.

2

I stepped into the wide room behind the Block at exactly 5:29. The last one through the door, all heads swung my way. Some of the waiting women instantly began viewing me less seriously despite the famous last name and I continued to give that impression, nodding politely at those who stared and glared.

Of that group, there were half a dozen. Apparently they saw my high-collared cloak, and then my perfectly blank expression, and recognized me for what I was - a contender.

“Chelsea Elizabeth Bush.”

Not bothering to watch the graceful trio move toward the velvet curtains, I tuned-out the speaker and concentrated instead on discovering which, if any, of the sturdy females lining these walls might be able to kill me when the official chime sounded at dawn.

“Danielle Ann Bush.”

Sighing inwardly at how long this would take, I didn't waste the time. I spent it picking my careful exit and return through the halls, but mostly I used it to narrow down a suspected weakness in each female. I thought of anything but the performance to come.

Ice had settled over me by the time they announced the fourteenth fighter and over-viewed her talents. She left the stage with a short glare my way and I understood she already hated me. I recognized her, too. She was a Diva gang member. Candice had killed their leader during her Games challenge last month. There was that family name again, helping things along.

I gave a short ‘bring it on, then!’ wave, and the woman fled the empty waiting area with only another quick glower.

“And the last Contestant is...”

The moment stretched into eternity for me before the speaker blared again.

“Angelica Eve Pruett!”

I felt the hush come over not only the live audience of Bachelors and viewers, but also over those tuned-in across the world.

“From sisters to cousins, this is Angelica, 18-year-old Pruett family Tracker. As a part of one of the most brutal clans in the history of the Games, I wonder what we can expect from this Changeling teenager.”

I moved slowly into view. I was the third of my family to come through these curtains to claim a mate. Would I live up to their expectations? What about the others? What did they want most?
A small show?
For me to be as harsh as the other women tonight hadn't been? I hoped both were true as I kept my gaze from straying to the small glass room at the very top of the honeycomb-like complex. It was the room that one of us Pruetts might step into before all was said and done.

I came out below the first cage where I would battle, a bit stunned by the sound of the audience. The red-faced mob was already violently drunk and peppered with Network guards trying to strike them, repeatedly, into obedience.

The Block was a protruding stage in the direct center of the complex, with fans on three sides and the males in a small, well-guarded pen on the fourth. There were thousands of faces crammed into the arena, enthusiastically betting on who would die first.

I stepped forward as my image flashed onto the giant view-screens that were spread among the triangle-shaped walls and the tension thickened with each light step I took. Even the announcer was silent, waiting to see me.