Faith didn’t miss a beat. The other man came at her as she turned to face him, but his fist met only empty air. Still, he hadn’t lost any strength or speed, and he’d recovered nicely from his first fumble. After another minute Faith spoke to him, and he froze where he stood, then bowed and stepped back to the edge of the ring.
Faith hadn’t even broken a sweat.
They were down to four now, which meant only one was left to eliminate. Faith took on the blonde girl next, and as Miranda expected, she did well; Faith disarmed her twice, but never knocked her off her feet, and Miranda thought she saw approval in Faith’s face.
The other two were a man and a woman, the former Hispanic and the latter black, and it was clear after Faith engaged the man that he wasn’t nearly as skilled as the others. He was good, no doubt about it, but there was some elemental grace lacking in his movements that the rest had in spades. She didn’t send him away when she was done with him, but Miranda knew that unless the last woman was dreadful, he’d be gone in a minute.
Luckily the last woman, who was a tall and insanely gorgeous dark-skinned goddess that every man in the room was staring at, didn’t disappoint. To the shock of everyone assembled, the recruit actually managed to disarm Faith.
“Hand to hand,” Faith retorted. The recruit nodded and dropped her own weapon.
Now the true talent showed itself; Faith was wicked with blades, but her straight-up martial arts skills were unbelievable. She seemed to have four arms, all of them spinning at once, never standing still long enough for the woman to land a punch. It was almost as if Faith could see the woman’s moves before they were made, and simply not be there. Was it some sort of psychic gift of vampirism, seeing just enough of the future to know how to fight?
Finally, Faith raised her arm, and the din in the room faded again. She was neither panting nor slouching, unlike the recruits, who all looked like they were about to fall over.
“Honored Elite,” Faith announced, “We have chosen our three new brothers. Will each of you step forward, please.”
She read each name, and a round of enthusiastic applause followed the recruit to the center of the sparring circle. The strawberry blonde, the older black man, and the Hispanic man all took their places behind Faith, who praised their skill and perseverance, then introduced them each by name to the rest of the Elite. The applause was thunderous.
Miranda frowned. Why had they picked that last guy? The woman was a superior warrior—even Miranda recognized that. The woman looked shocked, but she didn’t embarrass herself; one of the Elite took her arm and led her back away from the others. Unlike the first few culls, she wasn’t taken out of the room. Maybe there was some kind of consolation prize or understudy role for her.
Then the double doors sailed open again, and silence washed over every mind in the room, all conversations cut off midword, as the crowd, as one, turned to face the door.
Miranda’s heart leapt.
David Solomon entered the gym, followed by his own personal guards at a respectful distance. He wore his long coat, the Signet out where God and everyone could see, the light that shone from it brighter than usual. Every inch of him radiated the regal bearing of one born to the crown.
He strode into the room, across the floor, to the sparring ring where Faith stood with the three new Elite-to-be. As he passed each section of the bleachers, everyone on it stood, until every vampire in the room was on his or her feet in the presence of the Prime.
When he stopped, his gaze swept over the crowd, and as one, they bowed to him. He gave them a nod in return, and they were free to sit back down.
Then he faced the three, his cold eyes fixed on each of them in turn. They were clearly terrified of him, but to their credit they didn’t try to avoid the steel of his gaze.
He moved slowly toward them, walking from the strawberry blonde, past the older man, to the last man chosen.
Miranda’s eyes didn’t even have time to register the movement. Without a word, David turned, reached under his coat, and with a flash of steel, spun around and sliced off the man’s head with a curved sword.
A gasp went up, and Miranda jumped back with a cry and almost lost her footing. Even over the noise she heard the sound of the head hitting the floor, followed by the body.
She dove back for the gap so she could see again, just in time for Faith to seize the man’s sleeve and jerk it back, revealing a tattoo that caused another roomwide gasp.
David never spoke. He simply let the others see, allowing the tattoo to speak for itself, and stood by while two Elite dragged the corpse away by its feet, leaving a smear of blood behind. Miranda didn’t see what happened to the head.
The Prime gestured, and the other recruit was nudged into the spot where the man had stood. Her face was pale, but she swallowed hard and took her place, standing up straight. When David’s attention returned to her, she held his gaze and bowed. He smiled at her, approving, and inclined his head toward Faith.
The Second was completely unfazed by the execution. “Kneel,” she commanded, and the three obeyed.
“Swear now, before these witnesses and before your Prime. Repeat, and take these words to heart: I do hereby pledge my blood and my life to the Signet.”
They repeated, and she went on. “I swear everlasting fealty to the Prime of this territory and to all his allies. I will uphold his law and lay down my life for his if the moment comes. This oath binds me until my last breath, either in battle on the side of the Signet, or by swift execution in the event of my disloyalty.”
All three gave the oath with full conviction.
Faith went to the Prime, who handed her a box from his coat containing three flat strips of metal. One by one Faith fastened a com around each new Elite’s wrist. The three of them were practically beaming by then.
Finally, David addressed them. “Welcome,” he said, his voice ringing off the rafters with absolute authority. “You may now take your place among your brothers and sisters in arms as full Elite.”
The applause was deafening. The three new Elite hugged each other and shook Faith’s hand, then bounded up into the bleachers to an empty spot, where they looked around in a daze, grinning from ear to ear.
David allowed the cheering to continue for a moment before stepping to the center of the room. The Elite came back to rapt attention once more.
“My warriors,” he said, “these times are dark and dangerous, and those of you new to my service have come to us in a moment of challenge. We face an enemy determined to destroy the hard-won peace of our world and return to an older, barbaric way of living for our kind. We have already lost friends to this threat, and I cannot promise we will not lose more; but I give you my word, as I stand here before you, that I will not rest until every last one of these cowards is put down. As you have sworn to fight for me, I will fight for you.”
With that, he bowed to them. Another roar of applause went up, this one thunderous, and the entire Elite stood, cheering for their leader, who drank in their allegiance from the epicenter, smiling slightly, before saying, “Dismissed.”
A herd of footsteps descended the bleachers over Miranda’s head, the sound deafening when coupled with the chatter among the departing Elite. She couldn’t see the Prime anymore thanks to everyone filing out of the room, but she caught glimpses of Faith speaking with the three new recruits, assigning them somewhere with another Elite as their superior.
Everyone was carefully walking around the pool of blood where the executed man’s body had fallen.
There was a beeping noise, and Miranda shrank back into the shadows as the door behind the bleachers opened just wide enough to admit a single figure.
“I thought I felt you over here,” David said, a smile in his voice. She could barely see him in the darkness.
“Are you upset that I’m here?”
“No. I suspected Faith would bring you. What did you think?”
Miranda looked back through the gap again as the last thirty or so made their way toward the exits. Faith and the new recruits had gone, and a pair of uniformed servants was mopping up the blood. They didn’t look disgusted or even unhappy at their task. It was entirely possible it was a routine thing for them.
“That was amazing,” she said. “I mean, you see them walking around the halls with swords and you know they’re good, but . . . Faith especially. She’s fantastic. And the others . . . they really love you. It’s not just a job for them.” She looked back over her shoulder at him. “What about that man, the one you killed?”
“Last night we took a suspect into custody who’s working for the insurgents. She told me, after gentle persuasion, that they had another agent trying to work his way into the Elite to take Helen’s place as their primary informant. I looked back over the training logs and decided on the most likely candidate. The suspect in custody confirmed my suspicions. I wanted to make it crystal clear how traitors will be dealt with.”
“Is the suspect dead?”
“No. We’re still holding her. I promised her an easy death if her information turned out to be accurate.”
She crossed her arms and leaned against the side wall of the bleachers. “Does it ever bother you, killing people?”
He sounded the tiniest bit hurt that she had asked. “Of course it does, Miranda. I’m not made of stone.”
She didn’t say she doubted that, but she thought it extra loud.