A Sinister Game

by Heather Killough-Walden

  Her mind was wandering, skating around in hyper-chaos as she sped across the ground so fast that anyone watching from outside would have seen her form blur as it passed. She had no idea where she was going, and she had no clue what she would do once she got there. She wasn’t at all sure that leaving Max alone on the beach had been the best plan. She just hadn’t wanted him to get hurt.

  And Victor was so strong.

  So she ran.

  * * * *

  Victor watched with both keen admiration and flagrant anticipation as the object of his desire drew steadily closer. She had no idea that she was running straight for him.

  She was probably mad as hell at him at that moment. He’d invaded her mind. She might automatically think he was breaking his word that he wouldn’t use any power she didn’t also possess. But the truth was, he had sensed her burgeoning darkness, for lack of a better term. Telepathic ability was stirring to life within her. He didn’t know why; maybe it was Arthur One and what she’d been forced to do to him. Regardless, without that awakening talent on her end, he would not have been able to communicate with her mentally. It took two dark leaders to speak in silence. He wondered if she would stop to realize that before accusing him.

  As to his invisibility – that was a talent she did not, in fact possess. In that, he was being a bastard. He just didn’t care.

  It was worth it.

  As she gained ground, he focused his power to see through the blur of her incredible motion. She was dressed in a downtime uniform. It fit snugly, perfectly outlining every curve of well-honed muscle, every ounce of delicate, womanly curve, and Victor felt himself harden at the thought of winning this Game.

  But around her neck she wore a smoky quartz crystal on a delicate chain.

  At seeing this, he inhaled sharply. His heart skipped a beat in his broad chest as his hands came away from where he’d been clasping them behind his back.

  Suddenly Victoria stopped running, coming to a fast and wary halt.

  Victor swallowed hard and instinctively went just as still.

  She was a good thirty yards away from him where he stood at the tree line to a deep and dense forest. Her brow furrowed, her expression troubled. She cocked her head to one side, as if listening. Her honey gold eyes scanned the darkness near the tree line, skating right over him. The iridescent color in their lovely depths flashed brightly.

  So beautiful, he thought.

  You’re there!

  Victor’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening. She was better at this than he’d thought. She’d heard him.

  I can hear you….

  When his initial shock subsided, his lips parted in a predatory smile. She was a quick study. He was again impressed. This was fun.

  Where are you? The demand was nearly shouted into his mind.

  Victor moved then, and with speed that matched her own. The wind picked up around him. Victoria gasped as he came to stand directly beside her and bent to whisper in her ear. “The first round is nearly over, Victoria. Do you admit defeat?”

  She whirled around to face him, her shimmering locks fanning out around her. He saw her next move coming before she made it. She raised her hand, no doubt to send him flying telekinetically into the nearest tree trunk. He countered quickly, speeding out of range, and she wasted her energy on thin air.

  Frustration blossomed in her lovely features. She realized that he’d moved when she felt an emptiness at the end of her mental rope. She lowered her hand and tried to quiet her breathing as she peered desperately through the darkness surrounding her.

  He could have watched her forever. Her long, golden hair was wavier than usual due to the sea air. It caused ringlets to frame her beautiful face. Her skin glowed, pore-less and peach toned, her cheeks flushed with exertion. Her lips were parted and he could see her straight, white teeth where they rested behind the plump, pink pillow of her bottom lip. He wanted to kiss that lip. He wanted to bite down gently and then deepen the kiss, forcing her to open to him.

  Open for me.

  Victoria gasped and spun again, this time coming to face him properly. She searched the area directly around him with a fierce tenacity. “Show yourself,” she commanded.

  “Very well.” He let his invisibility drop. There was no point to it now anyway.

  Victoria’s eyes widened as they fell on his now visible form. He watched her gaze slide to his hair and then to his shoulders and then to his eyes and he could swear that she blushed. He brushed her mind.

  Victoria tore her gaze away, her blush deepening.

  A semblance of real, live hope leaped to life within Black. Victoria wanted him. It was undeniable. And, if she wanted him half as badly as he wanted her, then there was infinite hope.

  “Let’s cut to the chase, Victoria. Are you going to come willingly, or shall we have it out here and now?” he asked her. His question intimated that he’d already won their Game – and in the first round, no less.

  “I think we’ll have it out here and now,” came a voice from behind them. They both turned to look just as Max rushed forward from whatever darkness he’d been hiding in and swung his sword toward Victor’s head.

  * * * *

  There was a moment of horrible awareness for Victoria when, first she feared that Max might be successful in his attack, and second realized that she feared Max might be successful. Why should she fear such a thing?

  But in the next milli-moment old brain instinct took over. Self-preservation kicked in, and she spun around to run.

  She had no idea what was happening behind her. It was loud as she crashed through the underbrush of the dense forest and went racing deeper and deeper into the woods.

  She ran. She thought of the Game, of Game Control, of things she couldn’t quite remember, and some fire inside of her fueled her every flying step. After what seemed like hours but was probably mere minutes, she came to a stop.

  There was no sound from the forest around her. There was only the heavy hitching of her quick, exhausted breaths. Victoria had no idea how she’d managed to make it so deep into the forest without falling or smacking into something horrible. She’d been in a blind state of fleeing.

  But she was here now, lost and alone, nothing to guide her but the tall, dark trees and their long, dark shadows.

  Chapter Eleven

  There was no time to duck; the sword’s heavy, razor-sharp blade was going to split his skull wide open.

  So, Victor created time. He’d never had to do it like this before and he’d never been forced to do so in order to save his own skin. It was a sobering moment in perpetuity. But he managed it.

  His efforts afforded him an extra precious second and a half to dodge to the side before Blood’s sword finished its downward arc. The flashing blade sliced with ease through the black leather of Victor’s jacket and onward into the thick muscle of his bicep before he could completely roll away.

  Victor hissed and bared his teeth, hitting the ground to kick up sand and dust and then come up with his booted feet beneath him. He could feel his eyes glowing now; there was pressure and heat and then everything came into sharp focus. That happened when he was angry. Or in pain. Or when he dreamed about Victoria Red.

  But Victor’s eyes were not the only ones glowing.

  Maxwell Blood stood across from him, a towering, hard-built form in black with a pale, angry visage and blue eyes that had taken on the unnatural and eerie appearance of ancient, oceanic ice.

  Victor considered his opponent, sizing him up quickly.

  Black was a new color for the Red captain. Maxwell Blood was in effect dressed in precisely the same manner as Victor. Interesting.

  Victor took this in and filed it away. It was time to do away with Blood’s strength. With a concentrated effort, Victor shoved a bit of his power at the captain and imagined it leaching the vigor from Blood’s muscles.

  He waited to see the signs of his attack on the captain’s face, but instead of the grimace or deepening glare he’d expected
– Blood smiled. “It won’t work on me this time, Black.”

  Blood lunged forward, bringing his sword around with expert speed and efficiency, and again Victor found himself needing every extra bit of alacrity he could muster to avoid being killed. He called on his dark leader ability and blurred out of the way a hair’s breadth before the weapon would have carved a deep line through his midsection.

  He countered, spinning around and sending more of his power it into his opponent’s body. This time it was an invisible, insipid lullaby that should have forced Captain Blood to his knees with unwanted sleep.

  However, Blood merely waved his free hand as if swatting at a fly, and a blue-green spark erupted in the air between them, negating Victor’s powerful effect.

  Victor straightened, the reality of the situation striking home.

  Impossible.

  He tried something else, something far more serious. It was a test now, more than an actual attack. He wanted to know for certain.

  He rarely used what he considered the most malevolent of his abilities. Something about opening a wound in another person’s body had never appealed to Victor. However, this time he didn’t hesitate. He imagined the lesion splitting across the captain’s chest, and concentrated on the pain it would induce as opposed to the actual damage the cut would cause.

  Blood hissed and recoiled, looking down at his chest. But as the damp, dark spot appeared and began to spread across the front of his black shirt, the captain straightened and closed his eyes.

  Victor felt his own power recoiling on itself, turning back toward him as if he and Blood were two negatively charged ions, and their essences did not want to touch. When the dark stain stopped spreading across the captain’s shirt, Victor knew that his opponent had managed to fend off the mental attack before too much damage had been done.

  And that was all the proof Victor needed.

  “Victoria’s mine, Black.” Blood opened his eyes. “She doesn’t belong out here, playing your stupid games. She belongs with me, at the head of her team on the Field, where she was born to be.”

  Blood’s voice had changed. It had lowered and grated more. His eyes were officially glowing, and a captain’s eyes should never glow. Finally, there was a confidence about him that Victor had never noticed there before. It was as if he’d been wearing a lamb’s skin and was shedding it.

  “When were you planning on telling her?” Victor asked icily.

  There was no answer, but Victor hadn’t really expected one.

  “How did you find her?” Victor asked next. His instincts were humming, his senses more alive than they’d been in forty decades. He knew that Maxwell Blood hadn’t retrieved Victoria’s location from Arthur One. If he had, Victor would have detected those memories when he’d ransacked the techie’s brain.

  But Blood had found her nonetheless. How?

  “This isn’t your concern, Black. Give up now and return to the Field.” The captain lowered his head, his intense glacial gaze slicing through the tops of his blue eyes. “I will take care of Victoria.”

  Victor smiled grimly. Not bloody likely.

  “It’s been an act all along,” he said softly, ignoring Blood’s mention of Victoria. “I must admit that I’m impressed.” He had no clue as to why Captain Maxwell Blood would have hidden his true nature all of this time, or even how it could have escaped Game Control’s notice. But he knew that it couldn’t have been easy. Blood would have had to allow his dark leader opponents just enough leeway to read his surface thoughts when he wanted them to. He would have had to allow himself to be batted around with telekinesis, chilled with cold waves, and even wounded using the most iniquitous dark powers available to his adversaries.

  And for what?

  “She’s worth it, Black,” Blood said. “It’s a pity that you’ll never know exactly how worth it she is.” He lowered his sword.

  Victor’s jaw tightened, but he kept his face an impassive mask. “Oh?”

  “There’s no point in continuing this sport of yours,” Blood continued. “You’ll never beat us both. And even if you do,” he paused, cocking his head to one side and studying Black with the same intensity that Victor had directed toward him, “You’ll never truly win.”

  With that, the captain slid his sword back into the scabbard at his back and, using a dark leader ability to, slowly faded from sight.

  “We’ll see,” Victor replied.

  The now transparent Blood laughed, the sound eerie and hollow. “You don’t even know where she is right now, Black.”

  Victor tensed. Another realization hit him in the chest. “And you do.”

  “I do.” More soft laughter. “She’s fast, but so am I. I will have caught up with her long before you figure out where to start.”

  Victor said nothing to this last statement. He felt Black melt away completely, transporting to some other location, and the forest clearing fell into a quiet broken only by the distant sound of waves crashing upon the shore.

  * * * *

  Where the hell am I?

  The night was so quiet. And the darkness was so deep.

  Victoria had been forced to stop running long ago. Weariness and fear had both sapped enough strength from her legs that she could no longer effectively avoid vines and rocks to keep from tripping.

  She slowed to a walk toward the outer forest line and crept quietly through the last few yards of twisted vines. She pushed aside the branches of low-lying tree to finally step onto what appeared to be some kind of road. It was made of packed dirt, flat and smoothed out, and the heels of her boots left barely a muffled thud as she walked.

  With trees on both sides of the trail blocking out moonlight, it was hard to see more than a few meters ahead. Victoria held her hand palm up and concentrated. A small yellow-orange flame rose to life in the center of her palm. It was no larger than the flame of a candle, but its brightness lit the road for ten feet in both directions.

  Next, she used her free hand to pop open her crystal compass. It magically sliced apart to open like a book, revealing the image of a girl on one side and the compass on the other. The single arrow of the compass was pointing north.

  Victoria took a few minutes to figure out that she’d come from the Southwest and that the road she as on led directly north.

  A fifth letter on the compass shimmered into view. It appeared directly at the center of the compass face. It was the letter “U.”

  For “Up.”

  As she always did when this happened, Victoria glanced up into the night sky.

  The stars were incredibly bright outside the Field. A thick band of them seemed to run through the center of the sky, a broad spray of twinkling white. They were beautiful. But that was all.

  So she looked back down at the compass, shook her head in the same mystified manner she always did after studying it, and extinguished the flame in her right hand. Then she closed her locket and took a deep breath.

  “North it is.” There was really nothing to do but follow the road.

  She walked for what felt like a mile, perhaps more, when she noticed lights up ahead. She stopped and focused on them. They seemed to be coming from windows, but… they were faint and small and few.

  Still, Victoria had nothing else to move toward, so she approached the lights, finding herself entering a small… city of some sort. The windows belonged to houses that reminded her of Room 73 at the TGB. In the darkness, details were vague, but the homes appeared to be constructed of wood. Most were two-story, with small roughly hewn windows that bore opaque glass panes and cross beams. Each home sported a chimney composed of brick or some similar substance, and though it was not a particularly chilly night, smoke rose from all of them.

  Victoria couldn’t see to the end of the village, so she couldn’t tell how big it was. However, it was clearly very small. There were perhaps fifty houses at most, and a few larger buildings. One of those larger buildings stood just ahead on the left, and as she neared it, she saw that there were an
imals tethered to a log outside.

  They were horses. She had never seen them used domestically before. On the Field, there were a few wild horses that roamed from quadrant to quadrant. But these animals were larger than those. They were brawnier, and they had leather seats strapped to their backs and harnesses around their muzzles.

  Victoria stood at the center of all of this and turned a slow circle. This was not at all what she had expected of the world outside the Field. Where were the buildings with their hundreds of lights like the towers the gamers lived in? Where were the busy walkways and whirring transporter cubes and beeping business consoles? Where were the people?

  No one answered her unspoken questions, of course. The silent, barely-lit night continued uninterrupted.

  Perplexed but intrigued, Victoria approached one of the two horses tied to the log. It was the bigger of the two, with a coat as pitch as Victor Black’s hair. She could see its muscles outlined beneath the sleek black coat. Its mane was long and shiny. It was beautiful animal; Victoria very much wanted to touch it.

  As she steadily drew closer to it and the building behind it, she could finally make out sounds coming from inside. People talking – plates and forks and knives scraping and pinging. Victoria turned to face the building, considering it. She was cold and tired and definitely hungry.

  The black stallion beside her suddenly whinnied, drawing her attention. She glanced over at it. It watched her carefully, still and tall and dark as night.

  “Easy big guy,” she whispered. “Trust me, I’m not going to hurt you.”

  The horse seemed to consider her words – which was a strange thing for a horse to seem to do. Victoria’s gaze narrowed. “Are you someone’s mount?” she asked softly, wondering if that’s what the leather seat was for. “I’m surprised anyone could tame a beast like you.”

  The stallion whinnied again, this time softer.

  “So, what do you think, big guy? Should I go in? Is it safe in there?”

  The horse cocked its head curiously. Victoria had the distinct impression that he was listening, trying to figure out what she was saying.