20. Calder

The Hotel Devonshire is near the noodle shop Elodie and I dined at our first evening in Luxaria. I smile like a fool as I think back on that night. It feels like such a long time ago.

Deandra has chosen her location wisely. Devonshire is an out-of-the-way venue, and the fight is happening in the middle of the afternoon. For all intents and purposes, I’m just one of the hundreds of hopefuls brawling their way up the ranks, looking to catch the eye of a powerful manager who can elevate their career. Nobody is looking too hard into this fight, like nobody paid attention when I fought at Cage.

Smart move, Deandra.

“I want you to make it look difficult,” she says, a sneer covering her face. “That shouldn’t be a problem; you barely won last time.”

“Either I’m the person who’s going to save your ass, Deandra, or I’m a weakling who got lucky against a Crill Centurion. Get it straight.”

She looks like she wants to murder me. “Can you last ten minutes in the ring?”

I don’t feel like pretending any longer. I’m not vain, but it rankles me to pretend to be, as Raz put it, harmless and completely non-threatening. I don’t go around beating people up for the fun of it—that’s not my style. But I can handle myself in a fight.

“Yes.”

Deandra looks dubious. “Good. I have bets on you surviving ten minutes and bets on you winning. Whatever you do, Calder, don’t tap out before the ten-minute mark. If you go down before that, you better fucking be dead because otherwise, I’m gonna kill you myself.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

I’m warming up under Deandra’s watchful eyes when Raz sends me another priority alert.

Onel just left Luxaria. Good job. Report to headquarters with the scientist, and I’ll sign your discharge papers myself.

It’s finally over.

The drums start to pound; the sparse crowd cheers half-heartedly. I enter the ring, my spirits light. Ten minutes and this fight will be over. Ten minutes, and I can tell Elodie the truth about myself. Ten minutes, and I confess I’m in love with her, and if she’ll have me, I’ll be a mugalari at her side.

Ten minutes and my new life will begin.

The Crill Centurion lumbers into the ring with a snarl that’s supposed to intimidate me. I make myself look sufficiently cowed as we get underway, pasting terror on my face as I dodge the man. Occasionally, I take a wild swing at him to keep the crowd from getting too restive. It’s all very tiring. Ten minutes can’t come quickly enough.

Then I feel someone’s gaze on me.

It’s Elodie.

She’s staring at me, shock warring with disillusionment.

She looks betrayed.

Shit.

I hammer a punch into the Centurion’s jaw. Elodie is talking to Throop. What the fuck is he doing here? Warning bells start to ring in my mind. I kick the Centurion’s kneecap. Elodie hates Throop. Why is she here with him? Now she’s nodding at something he’s saying, and they’re both heading for the exit. Fuck. Fuck the fight—I don’t care that I’m supposed to last for ten minutes. I’ll make it up to Deandra somehow. I disarm the fighter, punching his knees, elbows, and neck.

The critical joints weaken, the exosuit pops open, and the Centurion falls out. The crowd roars in approval. I don’t have time for their praise. I aim a volley of punches at the fighter, follow it up with a knee into his side, and take him down with a vicious roundhouse kick. Ignoring the cheers and the screams, I vault out of the ring and rush to the exit.

Barely a minute has elapsed since Elodie went through the door. But when I burst into the street, looking right and left, she’s nowhere to be seen.

Then I get a message from Throop.

You fucked up my deal. I should kill your stupid girlfriend, but you have someone I want. If you want to see Elodie alive again, give me Sarai. Meet me at the Central Fountains in thirty minutes. If you don’t show, I will kill her.