Lillyanne Plume's Arc

Chapter 13 of 22

The blue ribbons of light died out one by one until the tent went black. Lillyanne felt Scott's shoulder brush hers. She kept her hand on the rail and made herself count her breaths. If she panicked, he might too. If he panicked, his heart would answer for both of them. A spotlight snapped on above the ring. It caught a platform rising out of the floor, slow and clean. The platform stopped level with their balcony. Two women stood on it. The first was tall, pale as paper under a wide black hat. Her dress was black and red, cut close. She smiled like a hostess who had already decided which guest would not be leaving. Behind her stood a shorter girl in a white suit, hair pulled back tight, black lipstick, hands folded at her waist. Lillyanne's breath stopped. She knew that white suit. She knew the mouth. This was the woman who had cleaned her out at the poker table and handed her the envelope in the parking lot. The one who had tracked her down. "Scott," she whispered. "The one in white. She's the one who found me." Scott went a shade paler. The band on his wrist blinked red, once, then steady. He didn't look at the light. He looked at Lillyanne. "You're sure." "I'm sure." The woman in the hat lifted her arms like she was greeting family. "Welcome," she said. Her voice carried without effort. "I am Carmella Black. I run these games. My butler you may already know." She let the pause sit. Her dark eyes moved along the players' tier and landed on Lillyanne. She held the look. Then she smiled wider and looked away, as if Lillyanne were a card she had already counted. Beside her, the butler winked at Lillyanne. Small. Private. A dealer's wink across a table. Carmella spread her hand toward the ring. "Three night," she said. "First team to win leaves with the prize. The rest leave in whatever condition the game leaves them." She let another pause build. "The prize this year," she said, "is one-million dollars, OR…a gift like no other." The crowd broke. Watchers leaned forward. A woman two tiers up laughed once, sharp. Someone below them swore. The player in the gray coat didn't move at all. Lillyanne looked at Scott. His jaw was tight. His hand had found the rail beside hers. The wristband on him still burned red, but his breathing was steady. He had held. He was holding now. She didn't have his limit yet. She had something better. She had proof he could stand in the same room as the woman who nearly killed him and not fall. Carmella lifted one gloved hand. "Players," she said. "Let the games begin." Lillyanne pushed off the rail. Scott moved with her, upright, alive, and watching.