By all rights, both Chelsea and I should be dead and this episode over - with no winner. To keep that disappointment from ruining their Game, the Network had used technology to heal broken ribs, punctured lungs, and snapped bones. We were both as good as new and I hated them for it. If they’d let me die, I would be free of this pain.

  Lying there with the Network’s unknown chemicals restoring even the missing finger that had been severed on a crag as we smacked into the wall on our way down, I’d had time to think. The conclusion I’d come to was staggering, especially to my Pruett mindset. I hadn’t thought to win! That was why I’d been able to snap back from Jason’s betrayal so easily. Remission was a myth, and deep inside, I’d always known that. I came here to die.

  It was a truth and a misery I would hold close, but a newer, sharper edge had settled over me as I listened to the nearly incoherent ranting of the celebrity next to me who couldn’t stand the isolation. I loathed Rankin and we would meet outside these walls if I ever had my way, but it was the Network I finally felt real hatred for. By bringing us back to finish the episode, they’d pushed me into the place where my cousin was. I had no choice but to fight back as hard as I could.

  When I got my new mate…

  I winced. When I got my temporary ward to Baker, I would let Candice know I’d made my choice. The Pruetts were for freedom… and until I burnt up or out, so was I.

  “Welcome to the final match of this week's episode of the Bachelor Battles! It's certainly been one to remember, folks. Don't forget to order your copy after the main event. Just twenty eight UDs will get you every brutal fight, every bachelor visit, and every interview with all the bloody contestants. Order yours tonight!”

  A brief pause.

  “…let’s go live to the cage with Dana, the only reporter to successfully interview a Pruett more than once. Tell us, Dana, what did the Changeling have to say?”

  I grit my teeth, sharpening the edges of my rage as I listened from a small partitioned area behind the Block. The big cage was only different in size and the lack of a withdraw rope. Located directly below main stage, we were fighting in the center of another floor of those humiliating reporter shanties. Smoke and bitterness coated the air in equal measures as I waited to face my last opponent.

  “Good evening, Reggie. Yes, Miss Pruett seems to tolerate me, but let's be clear. She has no weaknesses.”

  “Ahh. It sounds like you took the odds and bet on her.”

  “I probably shouldn't admit it, but yes, I did. Go Pruett!”

  That made me smile, one of the happy stretches of my lips that had no place here, and I wiped it from my lips with the thought of Jason. I hadn’t seen him since his visit, his protection.

  “Seriously, Dana. How did she feel about the Network sending someone to investigate her claims?”

  “Well Reggie, the Bounty Hunter didn't think it would start this uproar, that's for sure, and seems to regret making trouble for the Network. She firmly believes they'll handle any issues they find. She's a Network player.”

  That sounded strange to me, like it had a double meaning, but the fury was distracting and I let it build.

  “What about this mate she's chosen? Will he get to attend the match?”

  There was a soft chuckle. “No. He'll be viewing from a wall screen.”

  “Surrounded by all her guards, no doubt.”

  More laughter and the rage sharpened. I didn't like being called Angel and I loathed being laughed at.

  “Well, it looks like the bell is up. Enjoy that front row seat, Dana.”

  “I will, and don't forget folks, get your copy tonight for only twenty eight UDs!”

  2

  “Match Three. Winner Takes All!”

  We entered The Block from opposite sides and I was careful not to look at her as we moved inside the cage.

  With their big hair and their manicured nails, these celebrity females had nothing they’d done on a regular basis, besides making conquests of the other socialites. Their weak, soft bodies proved that. This oldest sister might have the Change on her side, but her nails were jagged, bitten down to the quick and her neck was covered in bruises - I wasn’t the only one who’d had trouble sleeping through the assassins.

  If not for Jason’s words to my guards, the latest attacker may have succeeded in poisoning us both. They had shown up in time to plunge the syringe into the older woman’s throat. And the funny part was, neither of us knew her. That was New Network City - deadly.

  I still hadn’t seen Rankin directly, but I’d observed her relaxed shadow, how satisfied she seemed after a night with Jason, and my fury grew. She and I had things to settle as soon as I smeared the cage with blood one more time.

  I could feel Chelsea’s rage simmering like mine, waiting to boil over, and I did what any Pruett family member would have done - I grinned at her.

  The roar from the crowd was immense. They knew what was coming, and they were eager to see if I’d figured it out. If not, my death was close. I briefly wondered how many of them would be very poor women by dawn, because of that bet.

  Chelsea turned that powerful gaze of wounded agony on me, and I laughed - openly and loudly. “Pruetts have no sympathy! Fight or die, pig!”

  That did it. I could see her snap coming, and feel my own rising up. She’d deceived me, too! This time, I surrendered my icy control and let it happen - my fury at everything now on display for the world.

  Heat ran up my legs, hair shooting from my head as my body swelled, tightened. Pain beat in my temples, rushing in my blood, stinging and gouging its way through. The female across from me was going through the same evolution of flips and our sounds mirrored each other in violent echoes.

  The crowd was uncontrollable in their delight of seeing simultaneous snaps. Our screams of agony were nearly drowned out by the mob’s excitement as the bloodlust burst into our eyes, turning them full crimson. The Change.

  We moved forward at the same time, two lethal females in full season. The crowd held its breath as two fists rose into the air.

  Both landed, staggering each of us back.

  I swung again, faster than Chelsea, and sent blood flying from her mouth.

  Her return hit had my own head jerking to the side, blood running down my cheek... then I reacted as the situation deserved.

  Thud. My brutal swing of both hands together sent her to the mat.

  She leapt back to her feet, missing at least one tooth, but I wasn’t done. Blood flew as I slammed my wrist into her jaw again, making her cry out.

  She'd had the advantage in every fight until now, but without the sympathy she relied on, Chelsea’s hits came as no surprise and did less damage. My own swings were brutal, and I delivered one after the other without a pause between. My only thought was to build control for the time I would be alone with Jason.

  I struck out again, catching Chelsea in the temple. She stumbled and fell, unable to think, to control herself while Changed.

  Instead of moving in for the kill, my rage slowly began to fade. Didn't they train before coming here?

  I hit her again instinctively as she struggled to get back up, landing a harsh blow to the back of her head. Chelsea stayed down, bleeding, waiting for me to finish her off. And I hesitated…

  “Do it!”

  Chelsea’s words quivered with fear and hatred as the Change faded from her, too.

  I stepped back, unable to take my relief this way after all the conclusions I’d come to. It was wrong.

  “What are you doing?”

  There was plenty of fight left in her, I could hear it. I wanted to stop the battle, to demand answers from her about the Network, but she deceived me again by saying the one thing she knew would snap me back into the killer that always lurked inside now.

  “Rankin had him last night. I heard them.” Chelsea taunted, bloody face furiously determined. “I’ll bet he tasted sooo goood!”

  White heat flooded me, rage instantly flaming back to life in an inferno of bloodlust.

  Her lids closed over teary black eyes as my boot lifted, her mouth opening… “I miss you, Momma. Good luck.”

  My boot came down hard, snapping her neck with my perfectly delivered heel-hit.

  “Match to Pruett!”

  3

  It was over.

  I won. And yet I felt so empty, so lost. She'd wanted me to kill her and I hadn't been able to stop myself. I played in several games here and emerged with the prizes, but I’d won nothing.

  Ignoring the crowd around the cage that was trying to shove through the rows of guards, I moved down to the fenced area without waiting for the announcer. I had to see Jason.

  There were small islands of people behind the curtains, most of them staff, and I headed for the doorway without responding to any of the reporters, including Dana. They followed determinedly, calling sharp questions.

  “What did she say?”

  “Were you about to offer mercy?”

  I heard another voice nearby, echoing over all the others.

  “That’s our little Angel, folks!”

  Strike! And you’re out of passes, I thought, moving that way.

  “..and so the littlest Pruett upholds that questionable family name, brutally executing more than... Hey! What are you doing? Give me…”

  Slap.

  Reggie hit the floor.

  “Don't ever. Do that. Again.”

  She peered up at me in hurt surprise. “Do what?”

  “Call. Me. Angel.”

  I spun from the room then, before the rage could slip out of the tight hold I had on it. I had to see him; I had to know he wasn’t hurt.

  And if he had been?

  My feet moved me faster through the corridors where they all shrank back from me now. That, I had no answer for, but I kept the Change close in case I needed it to kill a Head Defender while the Network and the world watched.

  4

  The episode champion spent two days locked-up with her prize while the Network verified the win and I went there now. I wasn’t very caring about the lack of luxury on these higher floors as I stalked toward Jason. So what if my steps echoed on the carpetless floors, and drew the attention of the big guards at each end of the hall? I’d already proven I would kill for him.

  My harsh profile would now grace a wall somewhere in the complex, along with Candice, and her mother, Mary. We had become legends in the Bachelor Battles, but it wouldn’t send fans toward us like with some of the Games champions, and I was glad. Groupies were the last thing I needed. Even a stalker would be more useful.

  The blue-haired Den Mother stood outside the winner’s apartment, wary, but determined. I didn't plan on talking to her, but her words blasted through my heat.

  “It’s not true and you’re smart enough to know it.”

  I turned to pin her with a harsh glare that she didn't flinch from.

  “Only a lie meant to make you finish.”

  I knew it was the truth as soon as she said it, but my rage didn’t fade.

  “The Network seeks to control the over-population of females, but also the power of some.”

  Stunned, I listened with growing revulsion.

  “They go to the celebrities who are popular and offer them high credits to enter the games… or blackmail them into it. The Network pays double for each contestant they kill. Triple to their families… if they die. She freed her mother and gave her a fresh start with a large amount of credits and no Network disgrace, but she also weakened the Bush family. They’ll be consumed by the Network now.”

  I reeled back. Hadn't I thought of the sisters as Games sacrifices and I, their executioner? How awfully right I'd been! To prevent future challenges to their control, the Network had rounded up a group of weaker females and killed them all through me and the other Changelings. And it was happening every week, in every game the Network ran.

  “And the winners?”

  Her voice was kinder than I deserved. “They never know.”

  “But the episode is always rigged, filled with uneven matches and death contracts?”

  She nodded, muttered lowly. “It was good, what you did for the males. Fresh food today, and again yesterday. They look better already.”

  I didn't answer, too dazed. I'd been used, betrayed in ways totally different from the ones we’d all accepted. So had Candice… and her Mother? Had it been going on that long? To willingly sign up was one thing, but to be lured into death in order to send food and medical credits to your family? That was as wrong as it got.

  I ignored the Den Mother observing these thoughts spread across my face, but when I asked her a single question, she was ready.

  “Can I count on you in the future?”

  “Yes. You'll try to kill her?”

  I returned her look, giving this strange woman my promise. “I’ll do better than try.”

  I turned to the door. My family and I had connections to be called upon, methods at our disposal that no one, not even the Network, knew of. And until then, I had a prize to claim…. an untouched male who would stay that way.

  I opened the door, hoping I had even half the control Candice had shown by not hurting Daniel when he hadn’t recognized her.

  Jason

  I stared at her in horror, my new owner. She was streaked in blood, clenched fists leaving crimson splatters. Without the usual cloak, her sleeveless shirt and thick, bare arms were also covered in red sprays. Under all that gore were tattoos and muscles in equal amounts.

  Pink turned to crimson as she scented me. She was wound too tightly from keeping control and the brutal cage match hadn’t been enough to quell it. This was my end of the deal now, to offer the relief she needed, and I was terrified.

  I wanted to warn the rebels, to be free of this place for the first time in fifteen years… but it was my home, too. Faced with this brutal Changeling, warning the rebels that the Network knew where the Safe Zone was, suddenly seemed trivial compared to surviving what I’d willingly agreed to. And Rankin? Why had I feared her? This was the one who might kill me.

  Now that the deed was done, my future set, I couldn’t move. I could talk, though, and I forced my submission out through quivering lips. “Anything you want.”

  I could see the heavy strain she was under as her eyes blazed red, the way she’d been keeping her needs caged. With the Change, that was dangerous, and I dropped to my knees, waiting for the snap.

  Angelica

  “Anything you want.”

  The feeling slammed through my head, driving the heat back up. I’d won him. He was mine...

  No, he wasn’t.

  The rage increased, threatening to flip me back into an animal in my grief, and I moved for the washroom at a quick clip. I wasn’t safe right now, and he couldn’t help.

  I slammed the door, turned the flimsy lock. I now had a mate who didn’t want me. What the hell had I gone through all of that for?

  My heart clenched and I dropped to sit on the floor, shivering in torment. I’d won the game, but lost myself. All I could feel was need and hurt, and I stayed where I was as it burned through me like flames racing across dry grass.

  Jason

  I was safe with her.

  The stories about these strange Pruett women were true and I was delighted to discover it. I wouldn’t be hurt… but she would be. I’d tricked her, drawn her to my scent with no thought for her pain, and honor wouldn’t even let her accept the service I’d been trained to deliver.

  I waited for the sound of water or any noise, but there was only a tense silence that had me worrying. She was suffering and I had a low tolerance for that. Hadn’t Rankin’s begging broken me as much as her anger? Last night had been no different. She’d taken me to the brink and then held me there until I was the one pleading for relief… At least I hadn’t bled this time. I suspected the Network was to thank for that. They hadn’t liked being embarrassed on live waves.

  Silence…

  I looked around. All three rooms of the winner’s apartment were barren, covered in only the most basic of drab brown furnishings. The walls appeared wooden, but I was sure it was something more durable to survive so long. They were smooth and neat, and didn’t appear to have much wear and tear. I’d often wondered how the Network managed that without constantly having a construction crew up here. Changelings were notoriously violent.

  More silence…

  Against my better judgment, I moved toward the door, not sure what I would say.

  Angelica

  “Would it help to eat?”

  My breath caught at the sound of his voice just outside the door. In my misery, I hadn’t heard his steps.

  “Yes.” Anything to get him away from me!

  I had faced my future, my rebel choice, but I’d been ignoring this feeling of desolation. I had no idea how I’d spend the next two days… nights! closed-up with him.

  “What would you like?”

  “Anything!”

  A pause, while he realized I didn’t care, only wanted him to leave me be.

  “Angelica?”

  “What?” I couldn’t stop the snarl.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know this would be so… bad for you.”

  I squeezed my lids together so tight that stars swam across my vision. “I’ll live.”

  And I would, though the next weeks would bring me to my limits, I was already sure.

  I felt him reaching for the doorknob, and turned around to slam my fist through the bottom panel.

  Crack!

  My claws curled around his ankle in an iron grip. Flames shot through my skin at the contact, and I snatched my hand back. “You step through this door and you’ll be mine, willing or not!”

  I listened to him flee and dropped my head, taking deep breaths that let me see pink instead of red. I used an image of Candice and her superhuman control, concentrating. Better.

  Flat black snapped into place as I pulled the heat in, and I spent a moment making plans. Other than this new torment I was being cursed with, not much had changed. We would still meet my sister, Sam, and she would escort us to where Baker and the smaller group of rebels were pinned down. From there, we would all head to the Safe Zone.