I stared at him in disgust. ‘Humans go to the tournaments? Willingly?’
He nodded and pointed to his computer. ‘Live feeds. One of which you two starred in recently, if I recall.’
They’d watched us in London. But that realisation paled in comparison to the appalling reality of what was going on in the tournaments. ‘You watch people slaughter one another?’
He smiled coolly. ‘They are all willing participants. We merely provide the arenas.’
‘And what about the humans who are murdered for sport?’ I spat out. ‘Are they willing participants too?’
The businessman’s expression did not falter, not even for a second, and it made me sick.
Does he even have a conscience?
‘Violet, we should move them out of here,’ Gray said.
I nodded, stepping closer to the businessman, but before I had a moment to react, he raised his hand, revealing a gun we hadn’t spotted. He aimed it straight at Gray and fired, and I gasped when I saw he’d shot not Gray but the other human right between the eyes. In the time it took to look back at him, he had the gun to his own head.
‘Wait,’ I said, holding up my hands. ‘Don’t!’
‘Death is no longer of consequence. He has promised our ascension regardless of our crimes,’ the man said, right before he killed himself.
‘Oh my God,’ I said.
Gray was already moving, grabbing my arm. ‘Not God’s work, Violet. This is something else. We’ve got to get the hell out of here before they all come running and start offing themselves.’
I gaped at Gray. Did he really believe the other humans would do the same thing? I was damn sure I didn’t want to find out. We hurried towards the corridor and headed back through the communal work area to the window we’d left open.
‘Oh, and by the way,’ Gray said. ‘You were right. This is definitely a trap.’
‘Gotta love being popular,’ I said.
‘Say that again in about ten seconds,’ he said, looking over his shoulder.
Two exiles were behind us, moving in fast.
Working in practised sync, we spun to face the threat, Gray automatically lining up with the one on the right while I continued backing up, drawing the attention of the one on the left. The latter wore a business suit and looked unnervingly like Agent Smith from The Matrix.
Weird.
He took off at a run, heading right for me. When he got close enough I kicked his chest hard, halting his momentum. He quickly corrected his balance and spun, grabbing me by the shoulders and throwing me so hard I smashed right through the tenth-storey window. As I fell through the air I tried to right myself, and using my speed and strength I managed to get into a good enough position to roll through the impact of landing.
But that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt like a bitch. Especially since a large shard of glass had joined the party and embedded itself in my shoulder.
I barely had time to stand before the exile who had followed me straight out the window – though with a touch more finesse – was there, lining me up for another round of hurt.
Fine by me.
In fact, I felt more in my element than I had since stepping foot in New York. Since embracing fighting had always come naturally to me. I let the exile come at me and didn’t flinch when I saw another one round the corner, stalking towards us.
The first exile started to throw a series of hard punches my way. But even with the hampered use of my right arm – thanks to my new glass accessory – I wasn’t worried. I knew I needed to draw the second exile in as close as possible before I made my move.
But the first exile took me by surprise, grabbing my ponytail and yanking it back so sharply that I cried out. I swung around hard and backhanded him across the face, but he barely flinched, and didn’t let go. Instead, the psycho once-angel licked his lips and smiled, confident he now had the upper hand.
Bask in your ego, buddy. It will be the last thing you do.
From the corner of my eye I saw a figure charge around the corner running right for us.
Lincoln.
‘Stop!’ I yelled, hoping he would see that I had things under control. Okay, so it didn’t look good. Maybe it even looked like I was at their mercy. But I wasn’t. I just needed the other exile to take two more steps towards me and then it would be game over.
But Lincoln didn’t even pause to see any of that. It didn’t occur to him that perhaps his help wasn’t actually helpful. He simply barrelled into the fray and leaped on the other exile.
Sighing, I swung my leg out and took the exile’s feet out from under him while he still gripped my ponytail. As he fell he took a large clump of my hair with him. I stood over him and delivered a round of kicks to his side, stopping him from getting up before I grabbed my dagger and dropped beside him.
‘Choose,’ I ordered.
He laughed, and spat at me.
Gross.
‘Soon there will be no choice for anyone,’ he hissed.
The spitting thing tipped me over the edge. ‘Not exactly an answer,’ I said, finishing him with a blow to the heart. ‘But I’ll interpret.’