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“There’s too many contestants,” someone grumbles. “We expected more of a blood bath.”
“What can I say?” I smirk. “The Doe is particularly tempting this year.”
Actually, what the guys around this table don’t know is that not every gun was shooting paintballs in the first challenge. What we’re yet to work out is if it was just a desperate attempt to eliminate some of the competition, or if The Doe, my doe, was being targeted. That’s why there were four deaths. The casualties from the live rounds, and the man I killed afterwards when the guns were all accounted for and checked.
If it’s the latter, that she was the target, heads will roll – the contest be damned.
“Or the stakes are higher than usual,” Kaiden mutters under his breath. He’s close enough that I can hear him, but I doubt anyone else does.
“The Trinity have an unfair advantage,” Zeus whines like the little bitch he is. “They know The Doe already.”
“How is that an advantage?” Leinmann asks. “The Doe doesn’t get to choose who owns her.”
Everyone laughs. I clench my teeth. Behind me, my brothers shift uncomfortably. We’ve never been okay with this part of the game.
“I handpicked The Doe myself for this year’s Hunting Grounds,” my father says. My face is stone. I don’t move. I suspected as much, but to have it confirmed like this…fuck.
What is he up to?
It’s more imperative than ever that my brothers and I win. I just didn’t want them knowing that I didn’t brand Odile The Doe. Well, not by choice anyway. And if I could have found any way out of it, I would have. But I have to admit, if I win…when I win…I’ll have all the power I need to ensure she’s safe and protected forever. Even if it means protecting her from The Holy Trinity. I tried before and failed. That won’t happen again.
“We have decided to bring forward fight night.”
My attention snaps back to my father. What? Excited chatter has broken out all around me and Zeus is smirking triumphantly.
“It has also been decided by the sponsors that legacies won’t fight against each other…in this round.”
Well that wipes the smile off Zeus’ face but I have to say, I’m disappointed. I was looking forward to rigging the draw so that we could take on three of The Gods.
After that little bomb, matters swiftly move on to actual business, and I zone out until I’m addressed because frankly, these meetings are boring as fuck.
“And now our business is brought to The Holy Trinity,” Beckman announces. I blink and give a courteous nod for him to continue. “What do you propose we do about Smithson?”
This is a test, of course. Elias Smithson has been stealing from my father and he’s handed retribution over to us. He hasn’t had any complaints thus far about our methods – we’ve been handling this side of his business for years – but until now we’ve operated in the shadows. My father probably thinks of tonight as our debut of some sort, probably expecting me to baulk under the pressure. What he doesn’t know is that Smithson Junior is already dead, and he sang like a canary before he went.
He wasn’t working alone.
It was almost a shame to kill him. He was young, like us, and showed real promise. If there had been any way to bring him over to work for The Trinity, I would have. But his disappearance would raise too much suspicion with my father.
“Both Smithsons have been taken care of,” I reply. I gesture for Zie to step forward and he does, dropping a dozen blown up images of Elias’ ‘little chat’ with us. The images aren’t staged. Information extraction was brutal. No matter how much I liked the guy, I couldn’t go easy on him.
Several around the table flinch, while one or two – Zeus included – lean in to get a better look.
“Both?” My father scowls.
I nod to Kaiden who brings his fingers to his mouth and lets out a shrill whistle. I almost grimace at the sound and the fucker grins at me because he knows I hate it.
A moment later the elevator doors open and two armed guards drag Elijah Smithson into the room. He’s bloody and badly beaten, barely able to stand on his own two feet. The guards give him a shove towards me and Smithson Senior falls at my feet.
His head snaps up, frantically searching the room for an ally. He won’t find one. When his eyes land upon my father, he begins to beg.
“Please, you have to believe me, the Trinity have it all wrong—”
“Are you calling my son a liar?” My father demands in a low, dangerous growl. He hates being double crossed, and the only thing worse than the son of a supposed ally stealing from him, is the ally himself undermining his authority and plotting against him.
“No! No! I would never suggest—”
“Axel,” my father barks. “Care to explain?”
