A dozen feet away, Zandrite is on his throne already, wearing only his brown pants, as always, his hairy chest on display. He straightens his back at our arrival, calling to Kelt and sweeping an arm out over the throne at his side. “Have a seat. Be grateful you’re underground. The weather above is even worse today.”
“I can stand tonight.” He shoves me behind him.
“Sit,” Zandrite insists.
“Tell him to fuck off.” I grab Kelter’s wrist the second he moves, but he pulls me along.
“I can’t. We’re stuck doing whatever he wants.”
“Because of you,” I hiss.
“You’d be over there if it weren’t for me.” Kelt cocks his head toward the women gathered across the arena, hanging all over each other in their rag-like scraps of clothing, bellies and breasts bare.
I want to tell him that none of this would have happened if it weren’t for him. That I wouldn’t have been abducted and tortured, stabbed and starved. That I could have gone on believing I had a mother out there that loved me once. That I could have kept hiking and mapping my way to answers that weren’t there, living in books and guzzling coffee.
But that whole life in Caldera would have been blotted out by the new elixir anyway, like we saw, surrounding me with deaths beyond the confines of my head and forcing me to face them. But the real reason I don’t throw it all back at Kelter is because if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have met Eli.
Kelter sits down on the throne and pats his thigh, but the scrunch of my nose doesn’t stop him from pulling me onto his lap and slipping an arm around me. His toasty fingers settle over my ribs.
I turn my head to whisper. “I can’t be this close to you right now.”
His eyes fall shut, a breath skipping through him. “I can’tnotbe this close to you.”
I almost run, but the crowd parts to let the newest Half Link enter. Like every night, he’ll select his opponent from the other men in the room, who must accept. They fight. No rules or morals. No limits. Winner chooses a Trophy. Loser dies.
Each night we’ve watched the new arrival forced into the arena, eyes flighty and desperate. Kelter explained the effects of losing a link—the disappearance of their gift, slow destruction of the soul, constant physical pain, irreparable heartache. And it’s not the link that breaks to give the Underbroke its name—links last forever—it’s the Vaile left behind, left linked only to emptiness, to the finality of death.
Zandrite takes them out of their misery with heavy doses of serumfrom the teva roots, numbing them to the core and leaving them afflicted with primal urges to fill the void, strong enough to kill for. It makes for a rough crowd, the carnal necessity so damn thick in the air, it’s like breathing desire. Which I have enough of already.
But despite the competition, it’s a free-for-all. The Trophy is simply a matter of honor, not the only way to get laid. Men pluck the women out of the enclosure and flatten them against the walls of the arena, driving into them, unable to hold back for a private room, though I doubt that exists for anyone who isn’t also given a throne. Others join in groups—three men filling the holes of one woman before moving on to each other. Or two women vying for one man’s tongue. No restraint. And certainly no modesty.
I can’t ignore the similarities between linking and losing a link. Or that the oldest person I’ve seen was Trudence. Because no one lives longer than that, at least not anymore, according to Kaleida. But I still don’t know why.
Tonight’s new arrival is slow. He lacks the urgency that surrounds him. The last of the Vaile in the crowd welcoming him with groping hands and hoots and howls move aside. Then, with the calmness of pitch blackness and just as many unknown threats lurking in the shadows, Eli enters the circle.
I nearly jump from Kelter’s lap. He slaps a hand over my mouth and pulls me into him, not letting me move.
Zandrite chuckles. “That’s right. I want her to be well-trained by the time she’s mine.”
Kelter’s grip tightens, rage escaping from beneath his skin. I pull down on his hand, promising him my silence with a gentle pat on his knuckles. He frees me.
Eli stands in the center of the circle, shoeless and shirtless, his gaze low, fading bruises from his fight with Kelter visible from here. Beautifully carved muscles dive down his abdomen and disappear in a perfect V beneath the waistband of his pants, the same brown ones Kelter and every other man has on. He stows his hands away in the pockets as if he were out for a pleasant stroll. And never have I ever wanted to be underneath him more than I do now. Damn linking.
But he never gives up. He’ll go to any extreme to get what he wants, whether it be to protect a friend or fix his immortality. Or keep me. Hehas the fortitude of hundreds of thousands of men, of the pain and loss, their love and learnings, and I feel it in every touch. I see it in the abyss of his eyes. And passion. A kind of passion he carved out solely for me from the rigid, controlled being that he is. A little spark that’s wild inside him, uncontainable. And even though it’s not love, I miss him when we’re apart.
“Welcome to the Underbroke, young Vaile,” Zandrite purrs. “Who do you choose as your opponent?”
Eli lifts his head and sets his eyes on mine, bleeding fury and desire, his jaw tight enough to crack.
Chapter 28
ELIVANDER
What the fuck is she doing on your lap?I ask Kelter, unable to look away from Never. Seeing her through Kelter's mind isn't the same. I hold back from going to her, rescuing her from his arms and carrying her away in mine. Whatever kind of torture this is, to not be able to touch her and put up withhishands on her, it leaves scars too deep to heal.
But seeing her suffer is even worse. Dark circles frame her eyes. She looks even more fragile from days of not eating, her whole body trembling, a layer of sweat coating her skin. The pain is obvious. She was already off balance from holding in her darkness and resisting her mother’s magic, but now she’s on the verge of total imbalance from maturation and linking without any physical connection and release. And it’s deadly.
But I’ll do anything it takes to stop her suffering. The pain of touching her will only make me take her harder. He may be her link, but it’s my name on her tongue when she comes. I’m her everything.
