A/N: Scarlett's POV
As far as I was concerned, the tensest moment in every year was the sixty second countdown before the mines were disarmed and the Tributes rushed into the arena. Maybe it was because there was no way to know if someone would lose nerve and step off a platform early. Maybe it was knowing that a bloodbath would happen as soon as the countdown ended, just as it did every other year, and the question was simply who and how many would be dead when the dust settled.
I held my breath until the countdown ended. And as soon as it was over, my eyes followed the chaos on screen as best they could.
"Damn," Chaff muttered as his twelve-year-old tribute, Zed, was the first to fall with a sword in his belly. The girl from District One withdrew the sword and scooped up the pack he'd been grabbing.
The girl from District Nine fell with a knife in her head, but before we could see who threw it the camera went to the fringes where Finnick's tribute, Kirby, had a set of brass knuckles on his fist. He'd just hit Callie's girl, Vera, so hard that her skull broke. Her eyes went out of focus as she fell to the ground. The shriek was short lived. She was dead quickly.
My stomach turned when the camera showed Leah actually fencing with the boy from District Five over a pack. She was losing. The battle might have been going on for some time, but our view of it was relatively short. Maybe only a minute or a minute and a half of footage, and then Chadwick stuck the longsword between her ribs. He struggled to get it out again, but the camera switched to more interesting things.
As Annabelle's tribute used her sword to decapitate her District partner (something that was sure to keep her from getting any sponsors or sympathy back home), I told myself that at least I wouldn't have to use my charm to keep Leah alive any longer. The thought should have bothered me more than it did, and I was mildly disgusted at the thought that I was annoyed that I would have to help Blight to support Leland. As Leland was eighteen, he even had a shot of winning.
The camera went back to Chadwick, still trying to free the sword, rather foolishly. My jaw dropped as Chas, Haymitch's twelve-year-old tribute, used a bit of wire he had found to strangle an unsuspecting and unprepared Chadwick in order to grab the pack on his back. Chas then ran off into the trees.
"Wow," Finnick said beside me, clearly just as stunned as I felt.
"Unexpected," Haymitch said, slurring slightly. "But it won't matter. He won't last the day."
I wasn't so sure, and I half hoped Haymitch was wrong, but it felt hypocritical of me to hope that someone else's tributes survived when I was secretly happy mine was dead and wishing Leland would die.
The only non-Career still lingering at the Cornucopia was the boy from Three, who was clearly trying to get close enough to the wire Chas had dropped to snag it and run. He was spotted easily, however, and Callum strolled across the expanse of unattended supplies unconcernedly. He didn't announce himself to the boy, who had shrunk to the ground, cowering as Callum grew close. He seemed rooted to the spot in fear, unable to run into the trees once he realized he'd been spotted.
Callum wasted no time in running his shortsword through the boy's belly, and he had turned back to the other Careers as though he'd simply swatted a fly.
"Let's gather up the supplies and find a base," Janette said firmly, grabbing a few bags. "We can organize and go hunting tomorrow. Seems like it's getting dark already."
She was right, and I thought it was a bit odd, but stranger things had happened, so we watched as the Careers gathered up their supplies. The camera went periodically to other individuals and alliances, but everyone was simply taking stock of their supplies, weapons, and possible shelter locations. I got up to pour myself a drink and Chaff followed me.
"Who's your money on, then?" I asked, teasing. We weren't allowed to gamble on the outcomes, but we did make minor bets amongst ourselves once the Games began.
"Well, the odds at the moment are pretty evenly split," he said as I poured a drink for him. "It's very close between the girls from Two and Four."
"But what do you think?"
"I like the girl from Four better," he said, shrugging. "Kimbra. And her score was a bit better. They're the same age. That Janette is pretty mean, though. I don't think you can rule out the older boys, though. The boy from Two and Leland."
My lips scrunched a bit, annoyed, but I hid them behind a long draw from my drink. It burned a bit going down my throat, and I shrugged.
"Hugo wouldn't be terrible," I said slowly. "Let's wait and see which one of those four kills someone else first."
Chaff laughed, clapping my shoulder with his hand before picking up his drink and heading back to the sofas. I followed him, sinking into my seat between Finnick and Haymitch once more, ignoring the frown Blight was giving me as I sipped my drink.
Catching my by surprise, Haymitch snatched my drink out of my hands, however, and began drinking it, perhaps on some urging from Blight. I gave a squeak of protest, but he didn't seem to notice, and the others simply laughed. At any rate, the drink was half gone in moments, and I knew the rest would be gone soon after. Perhaps it was better for me, but I hardly cared.
I turned back to the screen, pouting, only keeping silent because of my pride. The Careers were back on camera, and they were sending Hugo and Callum off together to find a source of water to make camp by.
The two boys were good enough to find the water quite easily, a large stream that could have easily been called a small river. Callum speared a fish on his shortsword and smiled as it bled into the running water. I leaned forward slightly, frowning. Something was wrong about the way the camera focused on him as he bent down.
Why I had that eerie feeling became clear when Hugo – against all belief stabbed Callum in the neck with his machete, using it to rip at Callum's throat graphically, unnecessarily in my view. My jaw dropped and several of my viewing companions gasped.
Annabelle said out loud that she couldn't understand why he had done it, but no one supplied her with any explanation. We were all equally confused, and when Hugo went back to the other Careers, the last leg of the trip at a run, the body was being lifted out of the arena.
"What happened?" Janette demanded. "Where's Callum?"
"Dead," Hugo said darkly. "We found the water, and we were on our way back when a…a wolf muttation of some kind attacked. I killed it, but it was too late. It ripped out his throat."
"Brilliant," Alondra whispered, squinting at the screen from her seat beside Chaff.
I nodded in agreement when his companions took his lie at face value. He led the other Careers to water and my fingers twitched as though trying to hold the glass Haymitch had stolen from me.
Hugo was certainly one to watch, if he was killing his allies this early. He wouldn't often get such an easy kill, but the fact that he was willing to take advantage of every opportunity like that made me wonder if he wouldn't be like Stella, killing tributes in their sleep. It had almost worked for Stella, so I didn't see why it shouldn't work for Hugo, especially if he stayed careful about it.
Haymitch finished my drink while the Careers set up camp, and I got up to make two more, one for him and one for me in the hopes that he would leave mine alone this time. But I knew he wouldn't. He hadn't taken it because he was thirsty, but because he wanted to keep me sober. Not that it mattered. Leah was dead.
I should have appreciated his concern for my health, but I was too busy trying to forget the card left at my bedside that morning to care.
To my dismay, Haymitch downed the drink I handed him in record time, and took mine off my hands in record time. Blight seemed very satisfied, but I wasn't. I was hoping to be drunk before facing Kenelm again, but Haymitch was apparently set on my being sober. As if he had a right to decide such things for me. No doubt Blight put him up to it now, the way Blight was smirking at me.
The camera shifted suddenly, and Caesar and Claudius were discussing what was happening, but I tuned their voices out as usual. I narrowed my eyes, leaning forward slightly as the screen showed the girl from District Three, Lillie Blin, holding a spear in a trembling hand and licking her lower lip sloppily. She looked a bit silly, but there was nothing silly about how her hand steadied as she prepared to throw. When she let the spear loose it flew straight and true, right at the boy who had encroached on her territory: Chas.
Haymitch wasn't too drunk to care quite yet, and he sat up a bit straighter as Lillie hurried out of the brush with a knife, just in case she had to finish the job.
"I'm sorry," she said nervously, seeing the boy was incapacitated but dying. "D'you want me to finish you?"
"No," Chas said, choking as he gripped at the grass with trembling hands. "No, no, no. Sit."
She did, sitting next to him, looking a bit sick to her stomach. At fifteen – nearly sixteen – she wasn't exactly old, but compared with the twelve-year-old she'd just impaled she was ancient. They both looked small and childish, sitting there in the path.
"I'm sorry," she repeated, looking around like she wasn't sure she really wanted to stay. "I didn't need to kill you. I could have waited, left you for someone else."
"S'okay," he muttered. His face was sweaty and his shirt was soaked with blood. "Take my pack. Some food, knife, wire. Watch out for Eleanor and Marianne. They're pretty good."
Lillie nodded, awkwardly grabbing the sweaty hand he was using to grip at the grass. He squeezed reflexively at her hand as his body convulsed with pain. I watched feeling a bit sick to my stomach as Lillie Blin waited for Chas's death. If Chance had asked, that would have been me, sitting next to the corpse of a twelve-year-old as it faded. No, I hadn't stuck Chance with the blow that was responsible for his dying, not really, but I still felt like his death was on my conscience.
I knew that in the arena, Lillie was feeling something similar. She knew that if she was going to get out alive, Chas was going to have to die eventually. But killing a child like that, it wasn't easy and it never felt right.
Lillie was crying as the cannon sounded Chas's death, and for a fleeting moment as she wiped her eyes and moved on with her spear that she yanked from his corpse, I wanted Lillie Blin to win these games. She was a long shot, but if the last thing she thought of as she died was that boy's death on her conscience, I wouldn't sleep for the both of us.
The rest of the day was dull as people found their positions and took stock of their surroundings. It began to snow as they were falling asleep, and I wondered, frowning, how long that would last. Exposure seemed a terrible way to die.
That night I went to visit Kenelm Laguov once more, and in the elevator was Draven Dupre. I didn't know if he was working, and I didn't ask. Easier to keep from caring if I didn't know.
"You look lovely," he said, his face twitching as he tried to keep some measure of composure. I did appreciate that Finnick managed himself better than a two-year-old, but there was a sort of squirming in my belly whenever Draven smiled at me like that, like he couldn't bring himself to stop.
"Are you implying I don't always?" I said coolly, raising an eyebrow and trying not to smile when his whole face brightened when I spoke. Never mind that I was trying to push him away, insult him. He was thrilled with simply hearing the sound of my voice directed at him.
The back of my neck felt warm as the elevator sped down to the main level.
"I would never," he said eagerly. "On the contrary, I don't think I knew what beauty was until I saw you in person."
Oh, he was good. And unlike the sweet words Capitol men whispered as I tried not to cry on their pillowcases, I had a feeling Draven really believed what he said.
But that didn't matter, I reminded myself as I shifted to stand a bit closer to me in the elevator. I couldn't afford to care about someone, to give the Capitol any more ammunition to keep me in line with.
"You know," Draven said, leaning a bit closer, "I wish you would smile more."
"Just because I don't smile at you doesn't mean I don't smile," I said, training my eyes on the door of the elevator, wondering how long it really took to get to the main level. It seemed longer than usual.
I could feel my pulse quicken as he leaned closer, his lips dangerously close to my ear, his breath tickling the skin of my earlobe when he said, "I don't mean the smiles you fake for cameras. I could make you happy, really happy, if you gave me a chance."
I fought the urge to close my eyes, trying to remember the last time I felt truly happy. Draven had no idea the weight of the promises he was making. No matter how good he might make me feel, nothing would ever make me truly happy again.
It was too easy to remember the face of my niece. It was even easier to recall that I had killed her with stubbornness and pride. I felt a strange mix of emotions as I felt nausea and the stinging of tears about to form, and yet my pulse still raced at Draven's closeness.
"Promises, promises," I managed to tease. Blight was right. Practice makes perfect, even with lies. "What makes you think you're so special?"
He was unfazed by the jabs at his ego, as if nothing in the world mattered but looking at me. His eyes were so close, so full of desire. No one had ever looked at me like that and I felt disoriented as I gazed back, trying to remember why I was keeping a face of stone.
"I love you," he said simply. "If you give me a chance, I'll prove it to you."
I swallowed, trying to think of what to say as the door finally opened and we stepped out into the main level.
"I don't give away chances," I said, the first thing I'd said since stepping onto the elevator that wasn't a lie. What was it that he smelled of that was so good? I fought the urge to breathe it in deeper to find out. "Consider me impossible to get."
He smiled a little, brushing a tendril of hair behind me ear. Every point where his fingers touched my skin felt as though it was on fire, a pleasing burn that I didn't want to end.
"You already know that I like a challenge," he said, leaning closer. "And I never lose."
Well, he was certainly bold, I decided as he pressed his lips briefly to mine.
Even as I walked away toward Laguov's room without a word, I could still feel his lips burning against mine, could still taste his breath. It had taken everything not to kiss him back. I closed my eyes just outside of the door designated on my assignment card. I took a deep breath. I had a job to do, and I would have to sort out these feelings later.
I entered the room with my sweetest smile and Kenelm was smiling lasciviously back at me as I closed the door behind me.
"Ravishing," he said as I unclasped the back of my dress and let it ripple to the floor. I stepped out of the circle of fabric at my feet and crossed to the bed without a word. I closed my eyes as his lips found my neck, and I tilted my head back, ignoring his sweaty hands as they pawed at my naked flesh.
All I could see with my eyes closed was the hungry gaze of Draven Dupre.
My eyes snapped open again and I felt my breath leave in a wave of minor panic. I usually used the time with my eyes closed to strategize, but with Leah already dead…
I allowed my eyes to close, still finding it too easy to see Draven, his eyes, his lips. I could almost taste his kiss when I opened my mouth slightly. In spite of myself I wanted to take the fantasy further, but I knew that indulging in such things in my mind would only make it harder to push him away in person.
And I really didn't want to push him away.
My mind was brought painfully back to the present moment, though, when Kenelm bit down on my collarbone uncomfortably, and I forced the giggle I knew he was after before biting my lip, trying not to cry.
