But it was back on its feet in an instant, shaking off the blow like it was nothing. It came at me again, claws sweeping wide this time. It was trying to slash open my guts. I backpedaled to get out of range and look for an opening. The crowd screamed for blood.

  The mutant came at me again, all claws and teeth. I ducked under its swipe and swung the hammer in an uppercut to its jaw. Teeth shattered this time. Blood sprayed. It staggered back, shaking its head.

  I pressed the advantage, raining down blows. The hammer felt like an extension of my arm. The mutant tried to block, but I was relentless. I drove it back, step by step, aiming for its damaged jaw, until it was against the wall.

  It lashed out in desperation, catching me across the ribs. Pain exploded in my side. I gritted my teeth and kept swinging. The mutant’s head snapped back with each impact. Finally, it slumped to the ground, twitching.

  I stood over it, chest heaving. The crowd was on their feet, screaming my name. I looked up at Callista’s box. She was leaning forward and clapping, with hungry eyes and a psychotic grin spreading across her face.

  I felt a twinge of pity for the mutant. Its life had probably been a living hell, twisted and tortured by the Techborn. But in this arena, it was kill or be killed. I had to look out for myself.

  The gate opened again, and a pair of guards dragged the mutant’s body away, leaving a trail of blood. I turned to face Callista, expecting to be released. I had won, hadn’t I?

  But then… I heard the grinding of gears. The second doorway began to rise, slowly revealing the darkness beyond. My stomach dropped. This wasn’t over? Holy shit…

  How many more would I have to fight? How many times would I have to win to earn my freedom? These questions raced through my mind as I gripped the hammer tightly, ready for whatever horror the Techborn had in store for me next.

  The second gate ground open with a metallic screech that set my teeth on edge. In the stands, the drunk noble was on his feet now. He shouted foully at Callista. “You think this human scum can best my house? I’ll bet two torcs he doesn’t last to the end!”

  Callista leaned forward. Maybe she’d been waiting for this moment. “I’ll take that bet—but no, I’ll raise you. Three torcs says Tanner wins them all!”

  The noble sputtered, his face turning an ugly shade of purple. “Three? You’re mad!”

  “Afraid to spend your allowance all at once?” Callista asked.

  Allowance? What was that about? Maybe he was a trust-fund baby. Who knows?

  Whatever the case, her words seem to light a fire under drunk-boy’s ass. “Fine, three torcs it is, but when he dies, I get to keep his corpse for my collection.”

  “Done!” Callista shouted.

  My lip curled a bit. Collection? I didn’t want to think about what that meant.

  The second gate was halfway open now. I could hear something moving in the darkness beyond, something big. I crept forward, hammer at the ready. I got close to the door and stood to the right of it. If I could bash my opponent’s knees before he fully emerged, I would have a better chance.

  But apparently, that was cheating. Before I could lift my weapon for a dirty blow, long metal prods descended from the walls of the arena. They crackled with electricity, herding me back to my starting position. Damn Techborn and their toys.

  I glanced up at Callista’s box. She was watching me intently, her eyes glittering. The drunk noble across from her wore a cruel sneer on his face.

  Three torcs—whatever that was worth—were riding on me, but I felt no pressure. I didn’t really give a shit—I just wanted to get out of this crusty sandpit alive.

  The gate was almost fully open now. I could see the outline of something… shiny? Man-shaped, my next opponent was obscured by shadows. I tightened my grip on my pathetic hammer, feeling a trickle of sweat run down my back.

  A Techborn warrior strode into the arena, his armor gleaming under the harsh lights. He moved with the easy grace of a predator. He had an electric lash that spilled out of his gloved hand. I could tell by the way he carried himself that he was a pro with this weapon. He’d probably beaten the living shit out of a thousand slaves with it in the past.

  He looked me up and down, a smirk on his face. “This is the best they could find to face me? A muscular farm boy with a hammer?”

  I didn’t bother with a witty comeback. I was too busy trying to figure out how I was going to survive this. The warrior’s armor looked tough, and that lash would keep me at a distance.

  This prick in his shiny armor started to circle me. His lash writhed around, moving by itself as if repelled from the sands. It crackled with pent-up energy.

  I kept my hammer up, ready to block or strike. We sized each other up, looking for weaknesses.

  The warrior made the first move, striking out with the lash. I managed to dodge, but the tip caught me on the shoulder. Pain shot through my right arm, numbing it instantly.

  I gritted my teeth, and I dropped my hammer. The prick with the whip looked delighted—but only for a moment.

  I caught the falling hammer with my left hand, and I charged in close, swinging it hard.

  The warrior sidestepped easily, laughing. He lashed out again, catching me across the back. I stumbled, my vision blurring.

  The crowd cheered wildly. The warrior hammed it up, confident he was to be victorious. He did a little spin around, hamming for the crowd.

  This wasn’t going well. I needed to change tactics. I decided to take a chance.

  When he turned back around, I threw the hammer with all my strength. The warrior’s eyes widened in surprise as the steel head slammed into his faceplate, caving it in.

  He dropped like a stone, blood pooling around his head. The crowd went wild, screaming my name again. I stood there, chest heaving, as guards dragged the warrior’s body away.

  The guards splashed a bucket of cold water over me, shocking me back to reality. It stung like hell on my open wounds, but I knew what that was: skin-sealants and antiseptic. The Techborn didn’t want me dying before they’d had their fun.

  I looked up at Callista’s box. She was on her feet now, slamming her hands together wildly. Her red-painted nails glinted in the bright lights.

  The drunk noble, on the other hand, had slumped in his seat with a look of shock on his face.

  But my victory-lap was short-lived. The third door began to roll up, the sound of it echoing through the arena. It was about then my brain turned back on. I saw something lying in the wet crunchy sands of the arena. It was the warrior’s electric lash.

  Lunging, I snatched it up just as the gate slammed open.

  Then, stepping heavily into the arena, was the last creature I wanted to see. One-Tusk, Callista’s personal pet.

  The huge Tusker snorted, pawing at the ground. His single horn gleamed in the harsh light. He looked at me with pure hatred in his eyes.

  I gripped the lash tighter. Was this Callista’s plan all along? To give me hope, then crush it under One-Tusk’s massive foot? I didn’t know anymore. Maybe this whole thing was just for her sick amusement.

  One-Tusk charged me. His massive bulk hurtled across the arena with startling speed. I stood my ground and flicked on the lash. It crackled with energy.

  The Tusker was a mountain of muscle and rage. I sidestepped his charge, and the electric lash hummed in my hand. As he barreled past, his horn missed me by inches.

  I struck out with the lash, catching him on the flank. The weapon sizzled, and One-Tusk roared in pain and fury.

  He spun around, faster than I expected. A massive fist caught me in the chest, sending me flying. I hit the ground hard, the air knocked out of my lungs.

  There was no time to catch my breath. One-Tusk was coming again. I rolled to my feet, ignoring the pain in my ribs. I had to keep moving.

  I circled the beast, looking for an opening. The lash felt good in my hand, like it was made for such a fight.

  One-Tusk charged again, head lowered. I danced out of the way, bringing the lash down on his back leg. The flesh sizzled and smoked.

  The Tusker stumbled, his leg giving out. But he kept coming, dragging himself forward with his arms. He was insane, enraged, determined to crush me.

  I stayed out of reach, striking again and again. The lash found its mark every time. One-Tusk’s limbs twitched and spasmed as the electricity coursed through him.

  But he wouldn’t go down. He kept coming, a juggernaut of rage and agony. I was getting tired, my arm aching from swinging the lash.

  Once he was down to crawling, One-Tusk lunged, his remaining good arm swiping at me. I jumped back, but not fast enough. His claws raked across my chest and drew blood.

  I gritted my teeth against the pain. It was time to end this—right now.

  I darted in close, dodging another swipe. I wrapped the lash around One-Tusk’s neck and pulled with all my strength. The weapon constricted like a serpent.

  One-Tusk thrashed and bucked, trying to throw me off. But I held on, pouring every ounce of energy into holding the lash fast. The smell of burning flesh filled my nostrils.

  Finally, the Tusker’s struggles ceased. He collapsed to the ground, his limbs twitching feebly. I stood over him, chest heaving, the lash hanging limply from my hand.

  The crowd was silent for a moment. Then they erupted into cheers, chanting my name. I looked up at Callista’s box. She was on her feet, a look of pure exhilaration on her face.

  I had won. Against all odds, I’d beaten One-Tusk. But as the guards dragged the Tusker’s steaming, shivering form away, I had to wonder.

  What fresh hell did the baroness have in store for me next?

  Oddly enough, One-Tusk wasn’t finished. The bastard just wouldn’t stay down. I watched in disbelief as he escaped the men that were dragging him and kicked them aside. He crawled toward me, snorting and blowing snot and blood.

  His limbs twitched, and his flesh looked charred in places.

  I took a step back. This was impossible. I’d hit him with enough juice to fry a herd of cattle. But here he was, dragging himself forward on sheer spite.

  The crowd had gone silent. They knew as well as I did that this fight was over. One-Tusk was beaten, maybe dying. But he refused to accept it.

  I gripped the lash tighter. If he wanted more, I’d give it to him. I’d fry him until there was nothing left but a smoking husk.

  Before I could move, Baroness Callista stood up in her box. The arena fell so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Everyone knew her rank and power. When she spoke, even the air seemed to listen.

  “Enough,” she said, her voice amplified by hidden speakers. “The fight is over. Tanner has won.”

  I looked up at her, surprised. Was she really calling it off? Saving her precious pet from a well-deserved death?

  The guards moved in again, prodding One-Tusk with shock-sticks. The Tusker grunted and flailed, but he couldn’t fight back. Not anymore.

  They dragged him away, leaving a trail of blood on the sand. I stood there with the lash hanging limply at my side. I’d won, and it felt great.

  Callista was still watching me, a strange look on her face. Was that respect? Admiration? Or was she just turned-on? I couldn’t tell. But I knew one thing. I’d just become a very interesting piece in her chess game. I had to wonder what the next move would be.

  Chapter 16

  The crowd went wild when the verdict was confirmed. I’d won the games.

  As the robots sprayed me with a molecular printer, knitting together my torn-up hide, the crowd began chanting my name.

  “Tanner! Tanner! Tanner!”

  It was like I was some kind of hero. Well… what the hell. I took it in stride.

  Callista stood beside me, basking in the adulation. She waved to the crowd, a smile on her perfect lips. They loved her, or they feared her—maybe both.

  When we left the stinking sand pit, the drunken Techborn stumbled to meet us. His face was bundled up in unhappy knots. He hurled three torcs at Callista’s feet, the metal locks clanking on the deck.

  “You cheated!” he slurred, jabbing a finger at her. “That fight was rigged. This thug was a ringer!”

  Callista’s smile didn’t falter. She knew this guy well. I could tell by the way her eyes narrowed slightly.

  “Kade…” she said sweetly, like she was asking him to dinner or something. “Does your father know his prize bastard is slumming on the UnderDeck?”

  Kade’s face turned red. He opened his mouth to retort, but Callista cut him off.

  “I suggest you leave, Kade. Before I’m forced to tell Overlord Janson about this... dishonorable behavior.”

  A muscle twitched in Kade’s jaw. He looked like he wanted to argue, but he thought the better of it. He turned on his heel and stalked away. A nasty-looking mutant trailed behind him.

  I watched them go with a bad feeling in my gut.

  Kade…? Wasn’t that Overlord Janson’s son?

  Hmm… and now, he hated my guts. I could see it in his eyes. The way he’d looked at me, I was like something he’d scraped off his boot.

  I had a feeling I hadn’t seen the last of that guy. People like him didn’t let things go. They nursed their grudges, let them fester. Until they got a chance for payback.

  Callista turned to me, but her smile was gone. “We both made an enemy today, Tanner. Kade is not someone to be trifled with.”

  I shrugged. “I was told to deliver a performance. What was I supposed to do? Pull my punches and fake it?”

  “You should have groveled at the sight of him. Begged for his forgiveness. Instead, you stood insolent and proud. Foolish move…”

  “But you did that, too.”

  She got pissed, putting her hands on her jutting hips. “Who is the Techborn, here? Kade expects bravado from me. You are only fit to simper and beg in our presence.”

  My shoulders shrugged before I could stop them. “I’m used to having enemies. Comes with the territory when you’re a winner.”

  She studied me for a moment, her eyes unreadable. “Perhaps, but be careful. My people have long memories and even longer knives. Now, pick up my torcs—it’s time to use one of them.”

  Baffled, I picked up the torcs. They were leather and cold metal. They felt heavy. Looking at them, they were obviously collars of some kind…

  Callista led me into the gritty streets of the UnderDeck. I thought about knocking her out and stuffing her under a cart. With luck, no one would sound the alarm instantly. Then, I could race out of here, heading up the ramps to the fresh air outside of Arabella.

  But I passed on the idea. I was tired and banged-up. Besides… I kind of had hopes of earning this woman’s trust after that display in the arena. Maybe I could replace old One-Tusk and wait for a better moment to escape.

  She stopped abruptly, turning to face me. Her eyes flashed with annoyance.

  “You nearly killed One-Tusk,” she complained. “He was my best bodyguard. Now he’s out of commission until he heals.”

  I shrugged. “He was trying to kill me. It was him or me.”

  She shook her head, clearly not seeing my point of view. I didn’t expect her to. We came from different worlds. Hers was all about power and control. Mine was about survival.

  “In any case, I need a new bodyguard,” she said, her gaze appraising. “You’ve proven yourself capable—but there’s a condition.”

  “Of course, there is…”

  She held up one of the torcs. “You’ll wear this. It’s a more than a collar, it will mark you as mine. My property…”

  I stared at the torc, my gut twisting. I didn’t want to be anyone’s property. But what choice did I have? Maybe I’d be sent back to the arena. I had a feeling I wouldn’t survive another round.

  “Fine,” I grumbled. “I’ll wear the frigging thing.”

  Callista smiled and led me through the grimy corridors of the UnderDeck. The place stank of sweat and motor oil. We stopped at a heavy metal door, rusted around the edges. Callista punched a code into the keypad, and it slid open with a raspy groan.

  Inside was a workshop straight out of a mad scientist’s fever dream. Gadgets and gizmos were everywhere. Half-finished projects littered the benches.

  In the center of it all stood a hunched figure, muttering to himself as he tinkered with something that looked like a cross between a toaster and a hand grenade.

  “Riven?” Callista called out. “I have a new project for you.”

  The figure turned, and I had to suppress a shudder. Riven was a freak, even by Techborn standards. His skin was pale, almost translucent, and his eyes were a milky white. He had a shock of greasy black hair that stuck out at odd angles, and his hands were constantly moving. They fidgeted with whatever gadget he happened to be holding.

  “Baroness…?” he said, in a reedy whisper. “What can I do for you?”

  Callista pushed me forward. “This is Dane Tanner. My new bodyguard. He needs a torc.”

  Riven’s eyes lit up. He scurried over to a workbench and started rummaging through a pile of metal and wires. “Of course, of course. I have just the attachment...”

  I was kind of baffled, as I already had the torc in my hand—but that wasn’t the issue. He took a metal bulb with a small blue light blinking on the side and attached it to one of the three torcs.

  “This is my latest design—completely tamper-proof—and if you try to remove it...” He made a slicing motion across his throat. “Boom.”

  I swallowed hard. The thought of having that thing around my neck made my skin crawl.

  Riven approached me, the collar held out like an offering. I stood still as he fastened it around my neck, the metal cold against my skin. It clicked into place with finality.

  “There,” Riven said, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “A perfect fit.”

  My hands fingered the collar. It felt strange and foreign, like it didn’t belong there.

  Callista handed me a bundle of fresh, stink-free clothes. “Put these on.” she commanded.