vampires entered.
I could see them as vampires now; they had a sharper look than any of the humans around me, even the ones who had been drained of blood. It wasn’t even that they were leaner. It was just like they were walking weapons. Predators. Supernaturally strong and fast and capable of smelling blood on the air.
And they wanted to watch us fight.
We could have easily overwhelmed them if we’d worked together, but the people on the mats didn’t move. Nobody thought about rebellion except me.
“Get on your feet!” I urged, dragging Marc to his feet. “They’re not going to take another one of us!” I linked my arms with him and extended my hand to the others on the mats. “Come on! Get up!”
But they weren’t moving.
Marc was still staring at me, blinking heavily.
The vampires ignored my attempts at rallying the others.
“This one,” said a female vampire. She pointed at Marc. “Him.”
Their hands reached out to grab my best friend.
I thought I’d felt scared before, at so many points. When I’d left my home. When I had been dragged into the darkness under the mountain. When I’d been chased and put in the cell.
But the second I saw them come for Marc, I knew he would die. He could barely talk to me. He would never survive a fight.
It had been bad enough seeing Lisa fall during the competition. If Marc went out there, I would get to watch him fall next.
The idea was torture far surpassing anything else the vampires could do to me.
There was only one thing to do about it. I didn’t have to think about the options, because there were none, as far as I was concerned.
Marc didn’t stand a chance in a fight.
I did.
“Take me!” I pushed him behind my back. “I’ll fight!” The words fell from my numb lips. It was easy to say them as long as I didn’t think about what I was volunteering to do.
They tried to shove me aside to reach Marc.
I shoved back.
“Take me, you monsters!”
Arms wrapped around my shoulders, and I flipped the female the way that I had flipped a vampire earlier. The movement came more smoothly. I had found that fire that my wrestling coach had longed for again. When the second vampire attacked, I jabbed elbows and knees at his gut, clumsily going for his stomach, his face.
He easily slapped my hands aside, even as he laughed at the woman on the floor.
“Feisty,” he said. “They’ll love her.”
“She did volunteer,” the female vampire said, glaring hatred at me.
I had volunteered to fight.
To die.
For Marc.
They marched me toward the door.
I let them take me, but I snuck one more look at Marc over my shoulder. Marc, who was still obviously hazy and sick, but was looking at me as they carried me off.
He was the last thing I saw as the door closed.
7
T he hall leading from the cell to the arena was narrow and dark. It felt like I was crawling through the air ducts again—or like I was crawling into a grave.
As we approached the arena, the ceiling shook with the roars of the crowd. They were excited for the fight to come.
I couldn’t even feel afraid anymore.
The door into the arena was a tall archway blocked by glass and iron. The glass was decorated with a bold logo in reverse—something clearly meant to be seen by the crowd, not by the competitors.
As cold vampire fingers secured a collar around my throat, I tried to imagine what that logo would look like the other way around. It was sort of like a blooming flower surrounded by beaming rays of light.
I wished that I had brought the sunflower with me.
Where was my blue-eyed hero now? That boy who had been strong enough to defeat all those vampires, and compassionate enough to feed me?
I had run from him. Rejected his kindness.
The collar locked tightly around my throat.
My eyes fell shut. They were no longer burning with tears.
This will be worth it to protect Marc .
The vampires used the collar to lead me to the glass doors, which swung open.
The shouting of the audience