“Come on, Seduction, put her clumsy ass down and let’s go.” Coen shouted his command, already moving toward the Sacred Sand arena.
Aros gave me a wink, and for the second time that sun-cycle, an Abcurse was dropping me onto shaky legs. He then strode off to catch his brothers, taking all the warmth and life with him. Seduction. Was it just me, or was it weird that they called each other by their gift? Like it was a name. I hadn’t heard any other sols do that, so it wasn’t like an ‘in’ thing. Not that it really mattered with my imminent death looming.
I picked up the pace, feeling like a super-dweller again because even though they were really good at dropping me, they had also seemed to be pretty good at catching me. The sols were useful for something, at least. Coen was striding ahead of the rest, appearing almost a speck from my vantage point as the straggling, weak-assed dweller. Rome was right behind him, followed by Aros—who had caught up to the others without a problem, despite the burn in my thighs and the pant on my breath—Yael was next, and then Siret. I laughed, almost causing myself to trip again because laughing and running weren’t activities that should be carried out simultaneously. But it was funny. They were lined up in order of their dorm numbers, from one to five.
Pain-Master Coen was number one, Crusher Rome was number two, Golden Aros was number three, Hypnotic Yael was number four, and Evil Siret was number five. That was one way to differentiate between them.
“What are you laughing at?” Siret slowed until he was beside me, that mixture of curiosity and annoyance back in his eyes.
“Nothing, Five,” I replied on another pant-laugh. I almost tripped again. Talking, running, and laughing was even less advisable.
“Five?” Yael called over his shoulder. “What the hell is she talking about?”
“Nothing, Four!” I yell-panted.
This time, I did trip, but I swung out a hand in natural reaction, catching a fist-full of Siret’s shirt. He started to go down with me, but then he managed to catch us both, his arm quickly wrapping around my back.
“She’s ranking us?” Aros stopped running altogether, turning to face us with an incredulous expression.
Yael also stopped, but the others continued, too far ahead to realise what was happening.
“Why do you keep doing that?” Siret asked, using his grip on me to shake me a little bit.
“Doing what?” I asked, pushing on his chest to indicate that he could put me down. He didn’t. My stomach decided to flip.
“Falling. Tripping. Almost getting yourself killed.”
“What does it matter?” I groused. “Aren’t you taking me to get killed anyway?”
I spotted Rome and Coen up ahead; they weren’t running anymore, but they weren’t coming back to us. They were waiting. Rome had his hand raised to his eyes, trying to block out the sun.
Yael laughed. “We’re not taking you to get killed.”
“Maybe we are?” Siret seemed to be asking the others a question. He seemed to have forgotten that he was holding me. I looked down at my feet, kicking my boots back and forth a little, trying to reach the ground.
“You have a point,” Yael returned. “She’ll probably twist this around so that she finds a way to die, even if that’s not our intention.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Siret was shaking his head. “She still needs to stay alive until we’re done with her. She can die pissing off D.O.D., but she can’t die getting there. That’s just inconvenient.”
“Right here,” I grumbled.
“Yeah you are.” Aros stepped forward, grabbed my arm, and yanked me out of Siret’s grip.
It hurt like a bitch, but I didn’t complain, because they were talking about killing me again, and I figured complaining probably wouldn’t help my situation very much. I rubbed my shoulder, trying to ignore the way Aros was twisting his fingers through mine, because it seemed to be tied directly to something inside me, twisting and twisting and twisting …
“Don’t get possessive, Seduction,” Siret growled, stalking past us. “She’s our dweller. Not yours.”
“Still right here,” I added. “I’d also like to have a say, if it’s dweller claiming time.”
“No.” Yael was chuckling, moving past us with Siret. “You get no say.”
Aros tugged me forward, his feet eating up the distance faster than I thought it would be possible for me to follow, and yet somehow I managed it. We were almost to the edges of the academy now, with only the mountains in the distance, separated from us by a short stretch of forest, where Coen and Rome were waiting.
“What happened?” Coen demanded, once we reached them. His eyes were on my hand. Specifically, the hand that Aros was holding.