Page 178 of The Order

“I've told you I will never let anyone harm you,”he whispers back to me, looking to all of the elites watching us in the pit with gawking eyes.“Remind them all why our kind should never be backed into a corner.”

More mind games. All he does is manipulate. Forcing up my mental walls, I reach out to Fallan but can’t sense my connection to him anywhere close.

As Officials remove the bags away from the other contestant’s heads, no one's face sticks out to me. They look young, some even adolescent, and my heart begins to ache. Kai and I had been tasked with babysitting children their age for our scorecards a few years back. They cower to the Officials, some trying to return to the closing gate. The Officials leave the area, our shackles falling to the ground once every entrance is sealed.

Each person in the pit wears a number, three digits painted on any area of our skin exposed to the watchers above.

I look at my numbers.

“565,” I whisper angrily, smudging away the paint from my forearm, flipping off those who watch in amusement.

Xavier smiles, his head tilted in observance, motioning across the room.

Shoved against the glass, their heads are forced forward. My friends. My very alive friends. Each of them regards me with fear, their scraps for clothes replaced with elegant ware. Their arms are forced behind their backs, their faces bruised, some still bloody. My eyes meet Fallan’s, a slight sense of relief moving through me at the realization he is safe. Valerie and Kai are yelling, my heart racing at the new figure that has joined the group. Hunter screams for the men to let go of Kai, only receiving a blow to his face when he grows too loud to be ignored. Fallan required three men to hold him steady, his face the most beaten out of the group. Looking at me, I hold his gaze, but his head instantly snaps down. I see Xavier’s hand waving, forcing us to break our eye contact.

A loud rumble shakes the ground, and my head snaps to my right, watching the last gate rise. The others back away, no one daring to try and make a break down the dark tunnel. No Officials linger in this tunnel. Some above even take a step back from the glass.

Looking at the blade in the center of the room, I touch my collar, making a break for the weapon. My fingers collide with the hilt as the others disperse.

Raising the blade, I hold my footing, watching as everyone’s collars fall to the dirty floor.

The tunnel is no longer empty.

Three sets of eyes watch us, their faces hungry for blood.

Their clawed hands come first, each one of the creatures scraping the ground, dragging their nails along the dirt. Sniffing the air, their putrid faces move around the room. Their hollow eye sockets seem to look directly at the contestants around the pit. Drooling from the mouth, their focus narrows on every Marked stuck down here.

I hear the stifled sobs of everyone here, their thoughts a rampant mess of death and despair. Backed against the wall, every person put up for the Lottery cowers, some sinking to their knees. Holding my ground, I listen to the banging on the glass. The bidders hold envelopes filled with money, angrily yelling at the people they put their bets on to get up and fight. My friends continue observing. Fallan attempts to break the hold of the men surrounding him, only to be forced further into the glass. The creatures emit clicking sounds from their throats as they move through the pit. Their heads cock to the side as they sense movement, using some sort of echolocating ability. I watch the Shifter's focus move to me.

“Forest Blackburn,” It hisses, its grin wide. “I was wondering when I'd finally get the chance to taste that rich blood of yours,” It says, its voice something out of nightmares.

Giving Xavier one last look, I feel my energy return. The weight of the collar is gone, freeing me from its oppressive hold on my power. Swinging the blade, I lower my eyes, feeling the comforting embrace of that other, bloodthirsty side of me, our words and thoughts as one once more.

“Go ahead and try,” I hiss, bracing myself for what's to come.

Lunging toward me, it swipes the air, its companions tearing into whatever humans they can get to first. I drown out the cries of the other contestants, dodging away from its attack. I roll beneath its legs, dragging the blade across the tender tendons of its calves.

It screeches in pain, cursing under its breath. My knees slide across the ground, my focus dead set on a Shifter ready to tear into a younger Marked. He holds up his hands, but his abilities are weak.

“Your blood will be savored,” the Shifter mutters with malice.

Forcing my arms behind my head, I launch the blade toward the creature, watching it hit the base of its neck, its body retracting up and away from the boy. Doing my best to try and pry away the weapon, I raise my hand, twisting my wrist, pushing further with my force until the metal collides with the creature's brain stem. With a clean slice out the other side of the creature's neck, I force my hand down, watching the Shifter meet the ground. Its body becomes a pile of ash.

Sensing a presence behind me, I brace myself for another attack, but my blade is too far away. Turning on my heels, I collect the energy into my palms readying to use my power, pausing at the sight in front of me.

My father's green eyes meet mine, his mouth down turned into a look of sadness. Keeping my distance, I can barely control the emotions threatening to break me where I stand.

“Honey?” he questions, his shirt still soaked with blood. “What’s going on?” he asks, my head shoving away every guilty thought.

The third Shifter continues working through the crowd, picking off everyone it can. Its focus is away from me.

“You're not real,” I beckon, my hands raised in front of me.

“They threw me down here; the creature made a run down the tunnel-”

I force my hand up, finding and connecting with my power, watching my father's figure grasp his throat. All the elites turn from their social conversations and look into the pit, now entirely focused on what’s happening in front of them. Xavier’s arms are crossed. My companions scream against the foggy glass.

“You're not real!” I yell, the space around me that much tighter. “I killed you!” I begin, my feet drawing me closer to the apparition. “I killed you because I was too weak to protect myself!” I continue, my eyes glancing up at my companions. “But they're still here,” I mutter, a swell of emotion consuming my chest.

---