Page 25 of The Gilded Survivor

My eyes flicked to either side of me, as if watching for someone to emerge from an unseen door. My ears turned hot. There were at least two people in that room. I could imagine them watching me right now, expecting something that I couldn’t deliver.

Reluctance to speak and condemn myself by revealing fraudulent actions had me stepping back.

Cold sweat slid down my spine. I swallowed hard.

A click sounded and a female voice, likely belonging to the woman who called me in here said, “Señorita Valarde, your personal interview with Señor Castillas will not happen until after your demonstration. Please proceed.”

My heart leapt. I would be able to speak with him, after all. If the audition could be avoided, I was going to fight to make that happen. I was just trying to survive.

“If there is to be an interview, could we hold it now? I-I’m not any good. I promise you that he won’t want to work with me.” The web of lies that I had spun with my actions and words continued to grow wider.

But spiderwebs were flimsy things for any creature bigger than a spider.

I cleared my throat. Perhaps they hadn’t heard me clearly. The second my mouth opened, I froze. The sensation of danger created a thick barrier over my skin. My instincts screamed at me to run, but the door was lost in the shadows. “I haven’t brought anything with me. I don’t know what to do.” My voice was unnaturally high.

Another click grated against my nerves. “Very well. We will proceed.”

Proceed to the interview.

Something akin to relief had my shoulders releasing their tightened pose. I looked around, waiting for someone to escort me out, or, better yet, for Antonio to meet with me.

Neither of those things happened. The scratchy sound of metal snapping into place above me sounded and I looked up to see a vent I hadn’t noticed before.

A shiver skittered down my side. Élites only remained as such because they proved themselves worthy to hold the title, that was why the Blood Tournaments existed at all. All of the others had walked out of here alive, but several of them appeared exhausted. Had they all been subjected to this?

The answer was a hissing sound rattling the tiles above my head.

“Wait,” I called. “Please, let me speak with Señor Castillas.” I rushed to the two-way mirror and pounded my fist on the class. “Please!” I yelled. The faint stench I had detected upon arriving intensified. The bitter spice of the thick gray vapor filled the room in seconds. It was like trying to run through frozen fog in the early morning. Except, when this touched my skin, my insides burned.

I sucked in a breath and let out a screech. It was a mistake. The vapor flooded my lungs. My mouth was being torn apart as it traveled down my throat and expanded through my chest. The cold wrapped around my insides and then turned into brilliant fire which brought me to my knees. I attempted to hold my breath far too late.

The sensation of choking was almost too much to bear, but the fire was spreading through my body like wildfire. Coughs wracked my body, thick with saliva. I doubled over, clasping both my hands to my mouth to make it stop.

My vision turned black save for dots of sparkling stars. I couldn’t stand, I couldn’t beg them to stop. My insides were rupturing, and I was going to die.

At least they would find the cufflink on my body. I would have finally repaid Fernando for everything he’d done for me.

My brain grew fuzzy.

No te rindes, Carmen.

My mind was cluttered with fire, sweat, and pain, but that one thought glowed above all others.

I needed to get out of here.

My lungs felt like they were ready to burst, but the darkness coating my eyes was clearing. The vapor was thick enough to restrict my sight from everywhere but a few inches in front of me. I turned and started crawling. I could feel along the walls for a door. The room wasn’t that big.

As soon as my hands were away from my mouth, I yanked on the collar of my chiffon-fabric top. Unfortunately, it was too fitted to budge and I was forced to gulp down air. The vapor was thick, and slightly wet, but I was already on fire—it didn’t make things worse.

After making it half-way across the floor, my elbows and knees gave out. My limbs were shaking, and my whole body burned as intensely as if I had walked through a blazing fire. I prayed that they wouldn’t realize what I was doing and try to stop me. Getting shot wasn’t one of the things I wanted to do on my day off.

I tried to push my body back up, but I failed. My eyes had adjusted more to the dim lighting, and my hands were angry and red from where they had pressed into the carpet. This was it.

I studied the curling black vapor all around me. It reminded me of the volcanoes before they erupted.

Which brought me back to the tournament.

Dying on this floor wasn’t the only option.

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