Sovereign (10 page)

“There now.” He grinned, my blood between his teeth. “I can’t wait for the Vinemont boys to see my mark on you. The next time Sin and Lucius are in your cunt, they’ll think of me. And then, before long, the Acquisition will be over and you’ll belong to me. My little whore to use and abuse. I’ve already ordered a cage for you. It’s custom made. You’ll sleep in it every night at the foot of my bed.”

“I will never be yours.” I couldn’t comprehend half of what he’d said. “A cage?”

“I own you.” He bent his head to my mouth and pulled my hair again. “Cal gave me a little welcome gift. You. I can’t stop the Acquisition. It’s too late for that. But once the new Sovereign is chosen, you’re mine. You can run. You can try and hide. Don’t doubt that I’ll find you. Not even the new Sovereign can break this deal. It’s done.”

Loathing invaded every cell of my body, and my fight kicked in. I balled my hand into a fist and aimed a hard hit at his ear. He howled and shoved me back. I took off down the curving corridor, sprinting toward whatever trial awaited me. I didn’t care. I had to get away from Dylan, from the twisted ghost of my former friend.

Voices rose ahead of me, and I ran headlong into Gavin’s back. He turned and put his palms on my face, tilting my head as he stared at my neck.

His lips turned up in a snarl. “That motherfucker. Where is he?” He looked over my head, spoiling for Dylan to try and follow me.

“I left him. I d-don’t think he followed.” The tremor in my voice matched the chaos in my mind. I wiped my sleeve across my mouth.

“Hey, asshole, do you have a first-aid kit or something in this hell hole?” Gavin asked Mr. Tablet.

“Oh, I’m afraid not.” Mr. Tablet smiled sweetly and strode to a wide wooden door.

“It’s okay.” Gavin turned back to me. “It’s not that bad.” He yanked his sleeve down to cover his hand and pressed it over the wound on my neck.

It stung, but I tried to calm my breathing, calm my mind. Dylan was just an appetizer for the main course of the trial. I couldn’t fall apart before the real game even began.

The door had a sliver of space I could see through. It led outside, the low light of the cloudy day filtering through. The ground beyond was grassy, and there was some sort of narrow, circular platform in the very middle. I assumed Cal stood atop it, per his usual.

“Ladies and gentleman! Get your popcorn and take your seats because the entertainment is about to begin.” Cal’s voice boomed through the door, the speaker system at full volume. “As you all know, the classic theme to the spring trial is family. I’ve stuck to the theme, but I gave it my own little twist. Are the Acquisitions ready?”

Mr. Tablet swung the door open. “Yes sir!” He called.

“Perfect. Bring them out.”

Brianne whined like a dog kicked by its owner.

I tried to grab her hand and squeeze it. She pulled away as if I’d slapped her.

Gavin pressed into my wound one more time and dropped his arm. “I think the bleeding’s stopped. Damn. I can tell it hurts.”

“I’ll live. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. We’ll get through it.” His warm brown eyes still held the same optimism as they had before the Christmas trial. I didn’t understand it, but I was comforted by it all the same.

“Go.” Mr. Tablet motioned for us to walk through the door.

I took Gavin’s hand and stepped into the arena.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

S
INCLAIR

“
R
IGHT THIS WAY.”
C
AL
led us up the battlement and around to the side opposite where the spectators lounged.

I scanned the crowd, the ground below, and the central platform for Teddy, but he wasn’t there. Relief couldn’t take hold in my chest, though. Cal was far too gleeful. Whatever he’d cooked up must have been beyond heinous for him to prance along the stone steps as he did.

There was no point asking questions. He would reveal the game when he felt like it, and in a way that had the most impact. As Sovereigns went, I had no doubt he made an excellent one, despite my constant desire to snap his neck.

“Here we are.” He stopped and turned, letting us go ahead of him.

I stepped around him and proceeded forward. I halted in surprise, but then shored up my mask. “Mr. Rousseau. Lovely to see you again.”

Stella’s father sat on a wooden bench, his hands and feet shackled. A chain ran from the binds to a metal ring affixed to the stone beneath him. Two others—a middle-aged woman and a dark-haired girl of no more than twelve—sat beside him. The girl sniffled quietly and the woman stared, a blank look on her face.

“Where is Stella?” Mr. Rousseau’s voice was weak, his skin sallow, and his eyes red and watery. He looked much the worse for wear since the night he had sold me his only child.

“She’ll be out shortly. Don’t you worry.” Cal clapped him on the back, and the old man almost fell forward. I imagined kicking him when he was down, and it warmed me only a little. I was far more concerned with what Cal intended to do with Stella.

Bob walked past the prisoners to a stainless steel cart. Shiny instruments—scalpels, plyers, knives, metal knuckles—were laid out along the top. Rope and other, larger, weapons sat on a bench behind the tray.

“What are these for?” Bob, as usual, asked the dumbest question possible.

“Simple. Annie here is Gavin’s little sister. Sin, you already know Stella’s father, Mr. Rousseau. And, Red, this is Twila, Brianne’s mother.” He bent over and patted the woman on her cheek. “Sorry for the less-than-flashy introduction, but you understand, don’t you?”

She stared silently, her mind far away from the fort and the cold stone beneath her feet. She and the girl must have been taken while they were sleeping. The girl wore a pair of too-small pajamas and the woman was dressed only in an oversized t-shirt.

Cal grinned and straightened. “I knew you would. We’re going to have a round-robin of bouts amongst the Acquisitions. If your Acquisition fails the match, you will have to harm their family member. The more creative the harm the better. So, really, if you think about it.” He tapped his finger on his chin. “Your Acquisition could lose, but you could still win if you really go to town. The rest of the rules don’t even apply, since their relatives aren’t truly Acquisitions. Maim them. Do whatever. Just do it with flair is all I ask.”

“Ingenious.” I could appreciate his brutality, though I still wanted to grab the closest knife, gut him, and make him chew his own intestines.

“Well, thank you. Means a lot coming from you.” Cal grinned and headed back the way we came.

The child shivered and huddled closer to Brianne’s mother. Bob ran his hand over the implements, eagerness in his eyes.

“Let me go. Please, I won’t tell anyone. Just let me go.” Stella’s father clasped his hands together, the chains dragging and clinking across the stone.

“Just you? Not the child? Not the woman?” I asked.

He swallowed hard and darted his beady gaze from them to me. “All of us. That’s what I meant.”

“No it isn’t. You chose this far more than they did. Deal with it.” I inspected the courtyard two stories below. It was bare. Un-mowed grass covered the ground. The stark walls of the fort rose in a circular barrier, and a wooden platform made to look like a thin oak trunk with a small canopy presided in the center. Nothing to help Stella, but nothing to hurt her, either.

Her father stared up at me. “Stella wouldn’t want you to—”

I backhanded him, the slap satisfying on so many levels. “You don’t deserve to say her name. Speak again, and I’ll use my fists.”

The crowd across the way cheered lightly as the old man cowered against the girl, his cheek turning red. I resumed my stance behind him, straightened my shirt sleeve, and twisted my cuff link back to perfection. It was all about the show, after all.

“No head starts now, Counsellor Vinemont.” Cal laughed atop the oak platform, his voice booming in all directions.

“Ladies and gentleman! Get your popcorn and take your seats because the entertainment is about to begin. As you all know, the classic theme to the spring trial is family. I’ve stuck to the theme, but I gave it my own little twist. Are the Acquisitions ready?”

A door beneath the spectators opened, and a round, balding man yelled, “Yes sir!”

“Perfect. Bring them out,” Cal replied.

Gavin and Stella walked out first, their hands clasped as they moved cautiously through the wet grass. Brianne followed behind, her head bowed.

The light rain fell at a steady pace, though we were covered by an awning similar to the one over the crowd. The Acquisitions kept up with the attendant until they stood at the base of the platform, about twenty yards away.

From my vantage point, I saw blood along Stella’s neck, red tingeing the fabric of her shirt. I balled my fists. They’d already hurt her.
Fuck
.

“All looking fit and ready. Excellent. Before we get started, I’d like to thank Governor Elliot for allowing us the use of the fort.”

The governor stood in the spectator section and waved. A woman knelt in front of him, her blonde head bobbing furiously on his cock. The crowd clapped, and the governor gave Cal a small salute before sitting down and focusing on the woman at his feet.

“Okay, folks, we are going to do a little Louisiana Gladiator. How’s that sound?”

The crowd roared, the sound echoing around the fort and up into the cloudy sky.

“Family. Is there anything better?” Cal laughed, the sound hollow, like the man. “No. So, in keeping with our theme, here’s the rules. Each Acquisition will fight the others one on one. Bare fists only—”

The crowd broke out in boos and jeers.

Cal held up his hand. “Wait, wait, let me finish. There are rules. We can’t very well let them run around with machetes like the Vinemonts back in the day, now can we?”

Laughter erupted, and Cal had them in his palm once again. “So fist fights are the order of the day.
But,
if an Acquisition loses, then one of their beloved family members will be harmed by one of our competitors.” Cal pointed toward us. “We have three new guests with us today. Twila, Brianne’s mother, Annie, Gavin’s sister, and Leon, Stella’s father.”

“No!” Gavin turned, seeking and finding his cowering sister. He took two steps before the attendant brought a baton down on his shoulder, sending Gavin to his knees.

Stella gazed up at me, her heart-shaped face set in lines of determination. She dug in her pocket, pulled out a hair tie, and began finger combing her hair into a tight bun. Brianne peeked up and locked eyes with her mother. A litany of “no, no, no” came out of Brianne’s mouth, growing stronger with each repetition.

Stella glanced at her father, but kept her face stoic. When she looked at the child, she winced. I shook my head at her. Pity had no place in the trials. Only strength.

“So, first up. Let’s go ahead and see what Brianne and Gavin can do, shall we? I want to save the catfight for last.” Cal saluted the crowd and motioned to the attendant who shoved Stella inside the hollow oak.

After a few long moments, she stepped onto the top platform. Cal pulled her to his side, their backs to me. I hoped for a second she would shove him off, but that was foolish. I needed Cal alive to win the Acquisition.

He glanced over his shoulder at me before running his hand to her ass and palming it. “Gorgeous redhead, I hope you like to watch as much as I do. Oh! Oh my goodness.” He slapped his forehead and guffawed into the microphone. “Oh, dear me. I almost forgot to tell everyone the most important rule of the competition. Can you guess what it is, Stella?”

She squared her shoulders and said nothing.

“If an Acquisition loses both rounds, then their family member dies.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

S
TELLA

T
HE SPECTATORS SCREAMED, BLOODLUST
in their shrieks of approval at Cal’s words. Death, misery, ruin—this was their currency. Hate burned in my heart, stripping away everything soft and gentle and turning me into nothing more than a brand of rage.

The child shivered, her eyes wide as she stared at her brother. Her lips moved, but I couldn’t hear her words. Maybe they were silent. I knew what she said all the same. The same litany of fear I’d recited until the Acquisition transformed me from fearful to vengeful. Even so, I wanted to weep for her. I wouldn’t.

“Mommy?” Brianne yelled up to the woman who sat catatonic.

The sound roused the woman and she leaned over and stared at Brianne. “Bri?”

“Mommy!”

Despite my efforts to avoid it, I glanced at my father. He was a shell of the man I’d seen only a few months before. His hair was faded to white, his cheeks sunken, and his eyes bugged in his too-thin face. Something moved in my heart—sadness or regret, I didn’t know which. But I wished he weren’t here, for his sake and mine.

“It’s going to be okay, Annie. Don’t be scared.” Gavin called to his little sister, whose terrified eyes darted from him to Bob.

An attendant brought a chair to the top of the small platform, and Cal sat. He pulled me into his lap so I was angled sideways to him. Raising his hand, he pointed to the attendants stationed at the door where we’d entered the arena. They rushed out into the courtyard, batons at their sides.

“KO preferred. Incapacitation acceptable. If you don’t fight, we’ll hurt you
and
your family members. Red, give them a little taste so they know we aren’t just teasing.” Cal clicked the microphone off.

Red reared back and sank a fist in Brianne’s mother’s stomach. Brianne screamed. Bile rose in my throat as Cal dug in my hair and undid my bun, my hair falling messily down my back.