She ran her hand through her short red hair, the strands barely long enough to tuck behind her ears. She’d have to let it grow out and try to look more feminine, more like the kind of woman an orc captain would choose.
Audrey caught her reflection in the bar’s window and studied herself. Dark red hair, freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks, blue eyes. She was twenty-five, curvy and strong, her body built from years of training, muscles defined under her jacket.
She knew she was attractive enough, but she’d never tried to be soft or delicate. Now she’d have to play a part and pretend to be something she wasn’t.
The plan wasn’t perfect. There was so much that could go wrong, so much that depended on luck and timing. But it was the best shot she had, and she wasn’t going to waste it.
Chapter Two
Two days later, Audrey followed Monica down a narrow hallway of the institute, a worn duffel bag slung over her shoulder. The building smelled faintly of fresh paint, and the walls were lined with framed photographs of smiling women. Audrey didn’t look too closely at them. She kept her eyes on Monica’s back, noticing how her friend’s shoulders seemed tense underneath her cardigan.
Monica stopped at a door near the end of the hall, pulled a key from her pocket, and unlocked it. She pushed the door open and stepped aside to let Audrey through.
“Usually, two or four tributes share a room,” she said. “But I pulled some strings. You have this one to yourself, with your own bathroom.”
Audrey took in the space. It was small and modest, with a single bed covered in plain white sheets, a wooden dresser with a mirror mounted above it, and a chair tucked into a corner. A door on the far wall led to what she assumed was the bathroom. The window had thin curtains that let in the afternoon light, and the floor was clean and bare.
She set her bag on the bed.
“It’s perfect.”
Monica closed the door and leaned against it with her arms crossed over her chest. She watched as Audrey unzipped her duffel and started pulling out clothes, setting them in neat piles on the bed.
Neither of them spoke.
Until Audrey pulled out the long-range radio and set it aside. Then came a collection of knives in leather sheaths, which she laid out one by one. She retrieved two power banks from the bottom of the bag and plugged them into the nearest outlet.
Monica’s eyebrows rose.
Audrey reached back into the bag and pulled out a handgun. She set it on the dresser.
“Do you really think you’re going to need all that?” the institute manager asked.
“I’m not going anywhere without my weapons. I’d feel exposed.”
“Even armed to the teeth, it’s nearly impossible for one person to take down an orc alone. You know that.”
“I do know that.” Audrey looked up at her. “That’s why the Tusk Hunters always attack in groups.”
Monica pushed off from the door and crossed the room. She picked up one of the knives, turning it over in her hands, examining the blade and the worn leather of the sheath. After a moment, she set it back down on the bed.
“What good will human weapons do against orc blades?” she asked. “Their weapons drip with magic. One cut and you’re paralyzed, poisoned, dead before you hit the ground.”
“I know,” Audrey said. “Believe me, I know exactly what their weapons can do. It makes them even harder to kill.” She paused, her hand resting on the pile of clothes she’d just set down. “But I won’t use these unless I absolutely have to. I just need to have them. I need to know they’re within reach if something goes wrong.”
Monica studied her for a long moment.
“I understand. But hide them well. If another tribute sees any of this, they’ll ask questions you don’t want to answer.”
“I will.”
Monica moved to the bed and sat on the edge of it. Something in her posture shifted. She suddenly looked tired, older than her fifty-something years.
Audrey sat beside her.
“Are you okay?”
The woman let out a breath that was almost a laugh. There was no humor in it.
