I need to train.

  I need to get well again.

  The venom is a low throb in my shoulder and a constant burning bite in my thigh. It’s done ribboning through my body apparently, and now it sits stagnant at the sites of my still-healing wounds. I can’t afford to wait until I’m back to full strength. I won’t be left behind when this rescue mission kicks off.

  My face has to be the first one Levi sees.

  Guilt twists its crooked knife inside me at that. I know very well why I need to get to him first. So I can explain. But it won’t matter in the end. I’ve signed away my soul and his with my bargain to Jadick.

  There’s no coming back from it.

  Only forward.

  So, when I leave Jadick’s offices, I tell Grey to take me to the training rooms.

  He doesn’t argue.

  When we arrive, the tuxedo shop is full.

  A line of Jades has formed at least twenty deep, each waiting their turn with the mannequins set up against the wall. Apparently, word has spread that Jadick is finally taking action.

  I watch as someone sends a blade flying. It notches in the hard plastic between ribs—if the mannequin had any. The crowd parts, and I glimpse a female with short hair standing at the throw line. The guy behind her claps her on the shoulder for a job well done. Then the crowd closes in again, and I lose sight of them both.

  Closer to where I stand, mats are laid out along the main hall, each with a couple of soldiers sparring. They don’t use weapons beyond brute strength and hard fists. Grunts and curses echo against the high glass above our heads. It’s a soundtrack that is darkly comforting.

  I turn back to Grey.

  “Find me someone to fight.”

  He eyes me shrewdly. “You’re not healed.”

  “What do you care?”

  He grunts and then turns away. I expect him to wander off to find a volunteer, but he returns a moment later, dragging a mat with him. He sets it in place out of the walkway and then gestures for me to step on it.

  When I do, he joins me.

  My brows shoot up. “You’re going to fight me?”

  “Do you prefer an easier opponent?”

  “Fuck you.”

  He grins, but it’s a deadly sort of thing—and then he launches himself at me.

  I duck and retaliate. He arcs backward, and I miss.

  For the next few minutes, we dance this way. But it doesn’t take long for him to land a punch, thanks to my slow reflexes and injured body. He hits me square in my stomach, knocking the wind from my lungs. I go down on one knee, choking.

  He steps back, giving me a moment to catch my breath, which surprises me more than anything. I look up at him through sweaty hair that’s fallen into my eyes. “You could have finished me,” I say once I find my voice again.

  “Too easy.”

  Asshole.

  I don’t know why I expected him to say something friendly.

  Getting to my feet sucks, but at least, I can breathe again.

  Facing off with Grey, I plant my feet and get ready to go again. He studies me with an expression I can’t read.

  “Ready?” I ask when Grey doesn’t move.

  “Nah. I’m done.” He turns to walk away.

  “I’m not,” I call out stubbornly.

  He doesn’t turn back.

  Clenching my fists, I have to fight the urge to chase him down and put him on his ass. Losing sucks. Having him walk away from me like this is something else entirely.

  I’m not even angry with Grey.

  I’m angry with myself.

  “I’ll step in.”

  I look over to see the female with short hair. The one who threw the blade with such precision. Now that she’s standing before me, I can see it’s the same girl who’s mated to Mustache, Lorenz. Great.

  “Nely,” she offers, stepping onto the mat.

  “Mac.”

  “I know.” Her expression is slightly friendlier than earlier, though not by much.

  Lorenz is notably absent. Gathering his team, no doubt.

  I look back at Nely and take a deep breath. Why the hell not?

  “Let’s do it,” I say.

  She bends her knees, falling back into a crouch. We circle one another, and I study her movements, trying to get a feel for her style. Out of the corner of my eye, I’m aware of others watching. We’ve drawn a crowd, but I ignore them. It’s Nely I need to watch now.

  She attacks first.

  A punch with a swinging arc that would have caught my temple. Or my jaw. Instead, I yank back, and she catches only air. She retreats and circles again.

  When she comes this time, I expect another punch so I swing my foot out, but she lands a kick in my injured thigh before I swoop her other leg out from under her. I hiss in pain, and we go down on our asses together.

  She raises up onto her elbow and grins back at me.

  “Again?” she asks.

  She’s having fun.

  I grimace at how easy this must feel for her. Meanwhile, my thigh hates me. “Again.”

  Twice more, Nely puts me on my ass. By the time I’m back on my feet for a third, the venom is pulsating pain throughout my body, and I have new bruises from Nely to add to the sensation. At the edge of our mat, the crowd has gotten involved, shouting their support—mostly for Nely. I don’t mind. I can’t hear them over my own blood pounding in my ears anyway. And I don’t have enough pride left to care that they’ve witnessed me lose. Jadick took that from me earlier, and I’ve already given up hope I’ll find a way to earn it back.

  “Again?” Nely asks.

  I’m surprised to realize her enthusiasm doesn’t feel mean. More…hungry for the chance. But I shake my head. “If I go again, you’ll be scraping me off this mat.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” says a male voice. It’s unfriendly and all too familiar.

  The crowd falls silent.

  Nely’s smile vanishes.

  I turn to see Burnett at the edge of the crowd. The look in his eye is unmistakable. He sees this as his chance.

  “How about it?” he asks. “You want to go a round with me?”

  I want to refuse. But I don’t.

  “All right,” I say.

  He steps out of his boots and saunters over.

  I expect Nely to walk away, but instead, she moves to my side and plants her feet.

  “What the hell is this?” Burnett asks.

  “Evening the odds,” Nely says with a shrug.

  “How do you figure?”

  “She’s injured. And you’re top-ranked. Both of us against you seems fair.” His eyes narrow as she adds, “Unless you’re worried you can’t handle it?”

  The challenge lands squarely in the bull’s eye. His eyes gleam, and he cracks his neck side to side. “Let’s fucking do this.”

  The crowd starts up again, and Burnett takes a fighting stance.

  “Are you sure about this?” I ask Nely.

  “Just watch his left. It’s his strongest—”

  She doesn’t get to finish before Burnett roars and charges.

  Nely’s right. His left is strongest. I barely have the energy to dodge his blows. Even with Nely’s help, I am not going to make it out of this without getting my ass kicked. I can only hope to last long enough that he’s too tired to do real damage when he finally lands his hits.

  Nely is like an insect, flitting around me and using her speed to distract him.

  But finally, brute strength wins out, and Burnett catches her off guard.

  His fist slams into her shoulder, knocking her off balance. She grunts and tries to regain her stance, but he’s already winding up for what I know will be a knockout. My breath catches. My voice stalls. And my brain screams at me to stop him.

  All I can see is Lauren all over again.

  Launching myself forward with every ounce of energy I possess, I don’t even know if I’ve moved fast enough until his fist slams into my temple and I’m driven straight down to the mat.

  The crowd goes wild.

  Nely curses, and blood pumps harder in my ears, drowning out everything else.

  Voices rise, two indistinct figures clouding into my line of sight. They sound angry. At me? At each other? I can’t tell.

  My head feels as if it’s splitting in two.

  I could probably stand, but what’s the point? No part of me wants to invite a follow-up, so I stay where I am. On my stomach, cheek pressed against the dirty mat that smells like feet.

  “Mac, you okay?” Nely’s voice is low above my ear.

  “Ugh. Fucking peachy,” I manage.

  “Come on.” She tugs my arm. “Can you stand?”

  “Not if there’s a round two.”

  “It’s over,” Nely says firmly.

  The arguing somewhere above me grows louder. I let Nely pull me to my feet and see Grey and Burnett shoving each other. Burnett yells at Grey to “stay the fuck out of it,” and Grey shoves him back—away from us. A few others join them until the crowd closes in around them, and I can’t see what’s happening.

  “Here.”

  I turn to see Nely holding out a bottle of water. I take it gratefully and tip it up, chugging until dark spots cloud my vision. Then I lower it again, gasping. I swipe at my mouth and come away with blood. The tangy aftertaste of the water is coppery in my throat.

  “Thanks,” Nely tells me.

  She’s watching me like there’s something to see. Like she expects something. A few others have stayed behind to watch us too. It puts me off balance almost as much as that punch.

  “For what?” I ask warily.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” Nely says quietly.

  “You were on my team,” I say.

  She looks like she wants to say more, but then Grey is there, shoving me away from her. Away from everyone.

  “Come on.” He tugs my arm so hard I stumble and am forced to follow if I don’t want to face plant.

  “Where’s the fire?” I snap, tasting more blood on my tongue as I try to talk.

  He glares at me, leading us both away from the crowd. “With you, it’s never far.”

  I gape at him. “How is this my fault?” I demand.

  We’re walking so fast we might as well be running. Past Jadick’s offices. Down the empty hall toward my room. The crowd and their noise echo behind us, muffled until we turn into the abandoned store and the sound fades entirely.

  “Grey,” I say when he doesn’t answer.

  I glance up at him and see the angry twist of his mouth, but it doesn’t make sense. When we reach my bedroom door, I step inside and jerk away from him, ready to fight if it comes to that. But he lets me go, blocking the exit with his body as he glares down at me.

  “You don’t have to keep protecting them from me. I’m not going to hurt anyone. Apparently, I couldn’t if I wanted to,” I add darkly.

  “I’m not protecting them, you idiot. I’m protecting you.”

  Then he pulls the door shut, slamming it in his own face and leaving me alone.

  CHAPTER 12

  Grey returns shortly with food, which I eat, mostly because I have to do what it takes to regain my strength. The thought of him slipping something into my food crosses my mind, but it doesn’t feel like the truth. Not anymore. Somewhere along the way, I started trusting Grey. And I believe him when he says he’s protecting me. Maybe I’m being careless or naïve or any of the things Jadick thinks I am. But I can’t do this alone. I need allies. And trust goes both ways.

  After I eat, some of the pain eases, and my muscles loosen enough to allow me to move easier. I find myself waiting—again. For Jadick to come yell at me for fighting with Burnett. Or Tripp or Frankie to lecture me about smart choices. Part of me even half-expects my mother to turn up. She’s never been MIA for this long. Not ever in my entire life. It worries me more than I can admit to anyone. Even myself.

  But no one comes.

  My thoughts drift to Levi’s tooth. Kari’s deadline. Jadick’s marriage deal.

  The harder I try to find a way out, the more the walls seem to close in around me.

  I pace my room until the space feels more like a prison than a safe haven. Despite Grey’s words—and the fight with Burnett—I’m not sure the danger is worth this. I’ve never hidden from my enemies. Run, maybe. But I don’t back down when cornered.

  Then again, isn’t that exactly what I’ve done by agreeing to Jadick’s bargain?

  I refuse to allow my mind to draw parallels.

  What’s done is done.

  Retrieving a discarded tennis ball from the corner, I settle on my cot with my back against the wall and toss the ball at the back of the door. It hits then bounces back again, and I catch and repeat.

  Hit. Catch. Repeat.

  The monotony helps shut off the constant stream of angry, worrying thoughts.

  It helps me forget to punish myself about Levi for a little while.

  Without warning, the door opens, and Tripp lets himself in, narrowly missing a tennis ball to the face. I catch the ball as it springs back at me and lower it to my lap.

  “You want to watch where you throw that thing?”

  “You’re the one barging into my room,” I point out, sitting up straighter.

  “Heard you got into a fight with an ape,” he says, his expression darkening as his eyes zero in on my mouth.

  I touch it gingerly, remembering this particular injury actually started when Jadick back-handed me. But I don’t say so.

  He turns his head, and I notice the purple bruise along his cheekbone.

  “What the hell happened to you?” I demand.

  “I found the scouts.”

  My chest lifts. “That’s great. Where?”

  “They’re being held in a music store at the end of the west corridor.”

  I frown. The west corridor is the only place I haven’t been allowed to visit. For good reason apparently.”

  “Did you ask to see them?”

  “Sure did.”

  “And?” I prompt.

  He points to the bruise. “Gregario said no.”

  My muscles tighten with tension and the need to punch something.

  “Jadick’s hiding something,” I say. “Even after everything.”

  “Of course he is. He’s a fucking snake, Mac. You can’t believe a word he says.”

  “You’re the one who let him into your little rebellion,” I say.

  It’s not nice, but my mood is darkening by the second. I need to yell at someone.

  “Yeah, well, I have regrets.”

  I snort. “Don’t we all?”

  “Any word from your mom?”

  “No.” I sigh. “Although I’m not sure Jadick would tell me if there were.”

  “He likes you best when you need him,” he says darkly. “That’s for sure.”

  I tilt my head. “Why do I always feel as if you know more about him than you’re saying?”

  “Not more. I just recognize the evil in him.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and looks me over. “Speaking of evil, I heard about your showdown with Burnett. You okay?”

  “Fine.” I don’t bother to hide my scowl, and I know full well he’s already caught sight of the raised lump on my head. “Bastard’s lucky I’m not at full strength.”

  “Let me ask you something. Serious question. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

  “What the hell kind of question is that?” I snap.

  “I know you’re beating yourself up over what happened with Levi.”

  “You don’t know anything.”

  “I know you’re making some shady ass deal with Jadick, probably selling your soul.”

  Forcing myself not to flinch, I say, “I figured you were watching the whole thing earlier.”

  “Unfortunately not.” His expression darkens. “Lorenz interrupted to ask me about joining his little team.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Unless Levi’s the mission, I’m not interested.”

  “Right.” I blow out the breath I’ve been holding. At least, Levi didn’t overhear my little proposal.

  “Anyway, Jadick’s a lying sack of shit who’ll probably stab you in the back before it’s all over. Whatever deal you’re making with him, just remember that.”

  I look down at the tennis ball, mostly so I don’t have to look at him. “I’m not telling you what I promised him.”

  “All that does is reassure me I’ll hate it.”

  “Yeah,” I say quietly, “You will.”

  He crosses the small space and sits on the opposite end of the cot, facing me. “What else can I do to make you trust me again?”

  It hurts to realize there might not be anything he can do. Maybe we’ve come too far. Instead, I lean my head back against the wall and stare up at the paneled ceiling. The answer comes so suddenly; my whole body jerks with the effort of leveling my gaze on his again.

  “Help me talk to the scouts.”

  “I already told you, they aren’t letting me through—”

  “I know how we can get to them.”

  “Whatever it is, I’m in.” His answer is so immediate that I want to hug him for some crazy-ass reason. Maybe because even in the face of my distrust, he’s still here for me. No matter what.

  Instead, I smile slyly. “How do you feel about tight spaces?”

  Ten minutes later, we’re both wedged into the ventilation shaft. Tripp’s heavy breathing might be funny—if it wasn’t threatening to expose us.

  “Quit breathing so loud,” I hiss.

  “I’m sorry, is my need for oxygen annoying you?”

  “Getting caught will annoy the shit out of me.”

  He doesn’t answer, but I can hear him trying harder to breathe more evenly.

  Imagining his face scrunching up with the effort makes me almost smile. Unfortunately, the walls pressing in around me and stuffy air clogging my throat make smiling kind of impossible. As I shuffle forward on hands and knees, my shoulders slide along either side of the narrow ventilation shaft. I’m pretty sure Tripp’s broad shoulders are hunched even more than mine, which is probably contributing to his mouth-breathing situation. A nicer person would probably be more understanding. I’m not nice.