Page 46 of Beta Lies and Cursed Lives
The soldier who shouts his name is no one I’ve ever seen before, his stoic demeanor not abnormal for one of the GBE.
Jason, a guy who came to the academy a couple of years after I arrived, makes his way down the bleachers on stiff and shaking legs, his pale eyes wide, brown hair a nest of curls atop his head, making him look far younger than he must be. His frame is small, and if he has any muscle on him, it’s hidden beneath oversized clothing.
“Over here,” the soldier commands, gesturing to the side of the stage area where a few makeshift walls had been erected, each constructed of different materials, from drywall to solid metal.
Jason walks to the drywall frame and looks to the soldier for direction.
“You’re to tell us what you see behind each obstruction. Go.”
The poor guy takes a huge gulp of air, then turns his back to face the first wall. In a weak voice I barely hear, he stutters through declarations like, “V-vase,” and “C-comp-puter.” He makes it to the solid metal wall and says, “N-nothing.”
“Very good. Head to the platforming area and face this way.”
Jason does as instructed, and before he even makes it up the steps, a female Beta emerges from the shadows and stands at the base of the stage. Her designer skirt suit and molded glossy hair scream “I am important,” and I immediately loathe her despite never encountering her before.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she sings, “let us begin. This is a reconnaissance unit trained for stealth infiltration, hacking, and decryption. We’ll start the bidding at one hundred thousand.”
My brain barely processes the starting number before it’s doubled, then more than tripled, before the female shouts, “Sold! To the Republic of Arabia.”
There’s movement in the shadows, and I can just make out some hand-shaking and murmured congratulations.
If the RA is here bidding, that means everyone else in the building is an allied territory of theirs. A purchase by one territory is like an asset for them all. Until they’re no longer allies, anyway.
A soldier whom I rarely encountered but recognize as one of the academy guards leads a shell-shocked Jason from the stage and out of the building.
This little show goes on for eight more Cursed: demonstration, bidding, sale, escorted from the grounds. There are only two of us left when the soldier calls, “Modumo, Aubrey.”
I knew this was coming, and yet shock still courses through my body.
I hate it. I hate this.
Why is this happening now? Why couldn’t this have happened beforesheappeared in my life? It would be hard enough leaving Colt and Rai behind, but Miranda? I can’t...I just...can’t…
Not without being able to apologize for how I treated her.
When my mind clears, I’m standing by the soldier directing the auction, and I hadn’t even realized I’d moved a single muscle. The beast inside my chest slithers and writhes with fury, but remains silent. For a moment, I consider using my curse to bring down the whole building and make a run for it. But I can see now that the soldier shouting orders holds a collar controller in his hand, and other soldiers in the shadows have them clipped to belts, the telltale amber light blinking at a steady pace. Any of them could blow my head off in an instant, and even if they didn’t, others would track me down and do it. Or maybe the collars really do have the range the GBE claims, and they could detonate mine from thousands of miles away without exerting the effort to track me down.
I’m on the wall side of the stage, where some now have singe marks and holes straight through them from previous demonstrations.
“If the representatives would please move to the other side of the room.” This soldier I’ve never met obviously has a file on me to take their safety into account before I use my curse.
He turns his hawkish eyes on me. “Take down each of these walls.”
Part of me wonders what the other Alpha’s curse is, because there won’t be anything left for him to attack once I’m done.
My jaw set, I assess each wall. Drywall, concrete, stone, metal. I could prolong this suffering of mine and take them down one at a time, but why? I’d only be hurting myself, delaying the inevitable.
Instead, I back up about fifty paces, align myself at the center, and before that soldier moves out of the way, I scream.
I roar like I’ve never done in my life, the force of my voice sending a sonic boom in front of me in an arc, decimating all the walls which slam into the building’s frame and turn to dust, all but the metal wall which crashes straight through the building and flies outside, leaving a gaping hole in its wake.
When I shut my mouth and silence my voice, tears stream down my face.
I hadn’t just shouted. I’d screamed her name.
Miranda.
No one would be able to decipher what I said, of that I was sure. But never had I evoked my curse by using a word so dear to me.
