Page 39 of War Games

“And how’s that going for you?” I ask.

“So far, I don’t know. Apart from you two, there are six other contenders who need to be taken out. The brothers, Gasoline, Raven, Silver, and The Executioner. I’ve been able to figure out every single one of them and can already see how they’ll meet their end during these games. The only two I can’t seem to figure out are you two.”

“What do you mean?” Siren asks.

“Neither of you are playing by your usual MO.”

I nod, approving of this child more with every word that comes out of her mouth. “You’re clever.”

Shadow shakes her head. “Considering I’m sitting at a table across from the very two I can’t seem to figure out, perhaps that means I’m anything but clever,” she says. “How do I know you’re not working together and plan to shank me out by the dumpsters after you finish feeding me?”

“You don’t,” Siren tells her. “But like I said, it’s about trusting your gut. You can either choose to trust that Reaper and I mean you no harm, or you can choose not to. That’s your prerogative. I can’t force you to believe something, and I can’t force you tobelieve someone’s intentions based on nothing more than their words. This game is a fight to the end, and while I would be honored to earn your trust, the truth is, you shouldn’t trust a damn soul in these games.”

“She’s right,” I add. “The single most effective way to survive is to trust only yourself.”

Shadow holds my stare. “You’re saying you don’t want me to trust you?”

“Not at all. I’m saying to be wary. At the end of these games, there’s going to be a decision that needs to be made. Only one of us will be able to walk free at the end of the month. I know who I’d like that to be, and I assume Siren is on the same page. I trust her to make the right decision, just as she’s trusting me to do the same. It’s now up to you if you can live with that.”

“It sounds like you’re asking us to work as a team,” Shadow questions.

Siren narrows her gaze, her heavy stare locked on mine. “Hmmmm. Peculiar.”

“I work alone,” I remind them.

Shadow laughs to herself before finishing off the rest of her burger and scooping up her soda instead. “Something tells me this is going to be fun.”

Siren rolls her eyes and fixes her stare back on the kid. “Where have you been staying?”

Shadow’s carefree attitude quickly disappears, her shackles rising back into place. “Why?”

“You have bags under your eyes. You’re not sleeping, and judging by the way you just annihilated that burger, you’re not eating either. Do you know how to care for yourself? Have clean clothes, toiletries?”

“I . . .”

She glances away, not wanting to answer, and I press her to continue. “Answer the question, Shadow. I gave you money to buy yourself groceries. What happened to that?”

Siren’s brow arches, and she whips her gaze back to me. “You did what? When?”

Ignoring her inquisition, I keep my stare focused on Shadow, not allowing her the chance to slip past this conversation. “What good is having groceries if you can’t do anything with them?” she questions, her voice low and ashamed. “Apart from the fact I already told you I don’t cook. It’s not as though I have a way to transport them. Shall I pile up the back of someone’s Honda and steal their car—a car which I don’t know how to drive—or should I just carry them on my back?”

I let out a heavy breath. I fucked up.

That was a huge oversight on my part. I gave her the resources I thought she needed to look after herself, but in reality, I did nothing but make myself feel like I’m some kind of hero. I didn’t help her at all.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” Siren says, clearly seeing I’m at a loss. “I’m assuming you know where my villa is?”

Shadow simply smirks and Siren rolls her eyes. “Of course you do,” she says. “I like to cook. I cook myself something every single night, and while I might not have a wide variety of dishes that I’m willing to experiment with, they’re still delicious.”

Siren grabs the napkin off the table and pulls a pen from somewhere inside her cropped tank before writing down a six-digit code. “Here, this is the code to my villa, not that you’ll actually need it to break into my home. Every night, at precisely seven o’clock, there will be a freshly cooked meal on my kitchen table for you. Eat it or don’t. It doesn’t matter to me, but it will be there all the same,” she tells her. “If it’s not eaten by seven thirty, it will be waiting for you in the fridge. There is also a blanket onthe sofa, which folds out to a bed if you so happen to feel the urge to stay for a while. Just . . . Please don’t stab me in my sleep.”

Shadow gawks at her, just as lost for words as I am, and honestly, I don’t know if I should applaud her for going out of her way and showing so much kindness to this child or if I should berate her for being so fucking stupid. After all, Shadow will eventually have to kill her because, let’s face it, despite the tough game I talk, I’d prefer to fuck her than kill her, and welcoming her right into her home like that is asking for trouble.

Shadow visibly swallows. “You’d really do that for me?”

“I’m not about to let you starve. While you might be some kind of creepy child spy turned assassin, you’re still just a child. You shouldn’t be here, despite how good you might be.”

Her gaze drops to her hands, and it’s as though she’s never had anyone care for her before. “Thank you,” she murmurs, the words sounding hard to say.

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