“Where’s my sister?”

“Follow me.” She walked to the door.

I let her get a few steps ahead of me before I followed. I wanted to keep as much space in between us as possible in case she tried to take the gun.

When she was in front of the handle-less door, she peeled back a piece of wallpaper that had seen better days. Under it was a shiny, clean hand scanner. Sif scanned her palm, and the door popped open with a click.

She walked into a spotless, brightly lit hallway. It was completely different from the arena. Everything looked new and state-of-the art. There was even a fucking watercooler. When I saw it, I realized how dry my mouth was. I wanted to stick my head under the tap, but I couldn’t let my guard down around Sif.

I followed her down a set of marble stairs, still amazed by the difference once I’d crossed through that door. As far as evil lairs went, this place was impressive. From the outside, I would’ve guessed only the homeless or meth heads had been here in years. If the broken glass and trash hadn’t driven me off, the pungent odor of stale piss would have. Once through that door though, it felt like I was in some swanky office building in Scottsdale.

We walked down another flight of stairs. I had to lean on the railing to stay upright.

Sif looked at me with a raised eyebrow. I responded by raising the gun.

“I would have just taken the elevator, but I didn’t think you would get in it with me.”

“I wouldn’t have,” I confirmed before using the gun to wave her on.

She headed down another hallway. This one was not as nice but still clean. She stopped at another handle-less metal door. This time, the scanner was placed in plain sight rather than underneath wallpaper.

Sif placed her hand on the scanner, and it popped open. She walked in, and I followed. The room was cold enough I could see my breath. The room had a few metal chairs, a bare table, and a dirty cot that looked as if it was from World War II.

On the cot was Vivi, her arms and legs bound with half a roll of duct tape. Another piece was wrapped around her head, over her hair, and around her mouth. A large bruise peeked out from the top.

I raised an eyebrow at Sif.

“She kept picking the locks on the handcuffs or figuring out how to get out of zip ties.” Sif shrugged. “We ran out of options; she’s tougher than she looks.”

A low chuckle came from the other side of the room. In one of the metal chairs sat a man, his arms chained behind him. I couldn’t see much other than a mop of dirty red hair, torn clothes, and his bare feet.

“You won’t break her,” he said in a low, raspy voice.

“I wouldn’t want to,” I answered honestly.

He looked up, and his shockingly green eyes met mine. He stared at me for a moment while his chapped lips parted in disbelief.

“Victoria?” His voice was shaky and barely a whisper, but it roared in my ears.

“Take off his cuffs. Unbind him now,” I said to Sif.

She sneered at me. “Do it yourself.”

I held up the gun and pointed it at her face. She snarled at me, but then did as I said.

When Arik was released, he stood. I could hear his knees pop from across the room. He moved across the room to check on Vivi. I stayed where I was, leaning against the wall to help me stay upright.

“Is she okay?” I asked.

“She’s breathing. Her heartbeat is steady and strong,” he answered.

“Good. Can you put Sif in your restraints?” I asked.

“No!” Sif stamped her foot. “You won’t chain me like a dog.”

“I can chain you like a dog or shoot you in the back of the head like a traitor,” I said, pointing the gun at her again.

She sat down on the chair with a thud and pouted while Arik secured her.