Troi Blue, Water, didn’t look a day over twenty. She wore a plunging pale blue dress that rippled against her midnight-dark skin. Her hair was glossy black and fell in gorgeous waves around her shoulders, and her features were soft and perfect. She held herself like royalty, a ruler, superior to all others.
Feye Green, Agriculture, was almost her opposite. Small and slight, she was ghost white and doll-faced. Her pale yellow hair formed a kinky mane that only made her look smaller and more fragile. She was moonlight, and even the pale green of her sweater threatened to swallow her.
“Matilda Case,” Oscar was saying. Introducing me, I thought.
I was catching only about half of it, too nervous about all the eyes of all the world’s power on me.
I had promised Quinten I would stay hidden.
So much for that.
Gideon Violet, Faith, paced while Oscar talked, his corporate-style plum suit almost old-fashioned, his tie loose, his steel-gray hair making what may have been a handsome face sad and old.
“Newly awakened, newly discovered,” Oscar went on.
The other two women were Kiana White, Medical, and Aranda Red, Power. Aranda Red wore her dark hair short and slicked into points at each temple. She had the coloring of a woman who avoided the sun. Her lips were bloodred, her eyebrows and lashes darkened and arched. She looked at me with a slight smile, calculating, predatory. I wondered if her smile would contain fangs.
Kiana White wore her honey-brown hair pulled back loosely, giving her friendly face a golden glow. Her slightly tilted, catlike eyes glittered with curiosity and she sat forward, taking in every detail. She wore a soft white blouse tucked into tailored white trousers, and an air of composure far beyond her apparent twenty-five-year-old looks.
“Today,” Oscar said, “she has agreed to prove herself galvanized. Abraham Seventh will assist in the display of her skills.”
There were only two other faces up there on screens. Welton Yellow, Technology who was still wearing the yellow frog shirt and half-lidded eyes, but must have finished his popcorn, and a man with short white hair and dark glasses, wearing a silver sweater.
White hair would be Reeves Silver, Vice. He looked like a betting man and had on his poker face.
“Abraham Seventh, Miss Matilda Case,” Oscar continued. “Please step onto the mats. We are ready for you to begin.”
“No more talk,” Abraham said quietly as he walked past me, barefoot. “Let’s tango.”
He bowed to the Houses, then turned and bowed toward me.
“Hold on,” I said. “Excellencies.” I gave them a nod, then turned. I took off my boots, shrugged out of my coat.
I’d never felt so naked.
He might be strong, but I was fast. He might be a better fighter, but I didn’t have a half-healed gut wound.
I drew my hands over my hair and tied it into a knot at the back of my head, then turned to the mat.
I bowed to Abraham, mostly because I was already feeling a little guilty for what I was about to do to him.
He stepped out onto the mat. So did I.
He swung at my head, his fist big enough to knock a hole the size of Bangkok through the wall.
I ducked, threw a punch toward his neck. His hands blocked upward . . .
...and that’s when I kicked him as hard as I could in the balls.
He buckled and slammed down on his knees with a groan.
I stepped behind him and clamped my hand on the side of his neck. I didn’t know how long the sensation of touch remained after I let go, so it seemed safer to just hold on.
“This auction is over,” I said to the Houses. “I am off the block. I’ve chosen House Gray and signed the contract with them. I’m sure there are medical tests I could pass to settle the matter of being galvanized.”
Welton Yellow burst out laughing. The other Houses appeared angry and annoyed.
Buck still stood behind John Black, but his gaze flicked between Abraham and me, then settled on me with a new sort of caution.
