Mags hated it when the sponsors started having doubts.
She leaned back in her chair and regarded Marcus Tuft, a thoroughly ridiculous man with blue hair and pink skin. Tuft's family owned several sapphire mines in District 1, but he had been a reliable sponsor of District 4 tributes for over twenty years. This year, however, the man had taken one look at the arena and had started talking about revoking his promised sponsorship.
Mags carefully speared a piece of waffle with her fork. It was best not to look too eager with sponsors. Sometimes, they interpreted eagerness as weakness and that could be a disaster. The food was excellent, but it always was at the Sponsorship Brunch, held annually on the second day of the Hunger Games. Mags picked up half a strawberry and dipped it in the maple syrup on her plate. Her communicuff beeped. She ignored it.
"Come on, Mags," Tuft said. "You know I love District 4, but even you have to admit that it's not exactly your year. I mean, just look at that arena."
He gestured to the nearest of the screens scattered throughout the area. It showed a fourteen-year-old girl from District 9 shivering under a blanket of snow. A blizzard howled around her.
Mags looked away from the screen and focused for a moment on the purple banners at the end of her table proclaiming this the 68th Hunger Games. They blew lightly in the breeze. It was a pleasant day with a mild temperature, blue skies, and a slight wind. That was why Victors' Affairs had opted to have the Sponsorship Brunch outside this year.
Mags ate her strawberry. As she did so, she tilted her head forward allowing the bit of her hair that still had the red streak in it to fall over her face just so. Mags was far past the age when she might have been able to seduce a sponsor, but a little confidence and self-possession never hurt anything.
"Marcus," she said. "I know that everyone starts second guessing a sponsorship the moment that they see an environment that isn't typical for the district, but trust me when I say that in District 4 our tributes are prepared for anything. You think my girl is going to let a little snow stop her? She's tough as hell."
Mags' communicuff was going off again. She looked down at it and frowned when she saw that the call came not from a potential sponsor, but from Reva. Reva was another District 4 victor who had no reason to be at the Brunch as she wasn't mentoring this year. Mags didn't take the call.
"I don't know," Tuft said, looking at the screen which had switched to showing Mags' girl and the rest of the Career pack huddled around the Cornucopia. They were better off than the outer district kids because the Cornucopia had included thermal blankets, gloves, and various warming devices, but they still looked miserable.
"You don't know?" Mags asked, very carefully keeping the annoyance out of her voice.
"It's just … your tribute this year isn't exactly a Finnick Odair."
Mags looked down at her half-eaten waffle. It always came back to Finnick. Having such a popular victor was both a blessing and a curse in terms of sponsorships. Marcus wasn't even one of Finnick's clients — he was just another person who assumed that a District 4 victor had to be a Finnick. Mags' communicuff was beeping again. This time it was Haymitch. Haymitch who still had a tribute in the Games and should most certainly be at the Sponsorship Brunch himself.
"Well, she's not a looker if that's what you mean," Mags said, declining the call. "But she is a fighter. You saw what she did with that club during the bloodbath."
Mags' girl this year had bad acne and an unfortunate nose, but she was also big and strong and had shown that she could kill when she'd clobbered the boy from District 11 with a club. In some ways, it was for the best that the tributes this year would spend their time so bundled up. With only the girl's eyes showing, the sponsors might well forget what she looked like. The year that Finnick had won some sort of enhanced rain had melted most of the tributes' clothes off and they'd all spent most of the Games in their underwear.
"I saw it," Marcus said. "But I saw what the tributes for District 2 did as well and they get blizzards in District 2 . Everyone says that Two is looking strong this year."
Mags sighed. Two looked strong every year.
"I agree that it's likely to be a Career year," Mags said. "So many of the outer district kids are going to freeze. But Kadie is in the Career pack. She's strong, she's vicious, and she's not going to let a little cold snap keep her from claiming that crown."
The blizzard seemed to have picked up. The howl of the wind was now enough to distract many of the Brunch attendees. An Avox turned down the volume. Kadie Oneel was an island girl from as far south as you could get in District 4. As far south as you could get in Panem, for that matter. She never would have seen even a single snowflake before entering the frozen arena a day ago.
Mags' communicuff was beeping yet again. Seeder. Seeder didn't need to be at the Sponsorship Brunch because Kadie Oneel had clobbered her tribute to death at the bloodbath. Mags declined the call.
"Besides," Mags said, her eyes lighting on a sparrow that had landed on the end of their table. "A little birdy told me a rumor about the District 2 mentors."
"Ooooh, really," Marcus said, leaning forward. There was nothing that Capitol people liked better than gossip and scandal.
Mags glanced across the room, making sure that Lyme and Brutus, the District 2 mentors this year, were otherwise occupied. She lowered her voice.
"Well, the rumor is that Lyme and Valeria are sleeping together. And Brutus is quite upset because you know that he and Valeria used to be a thing. You see that shiner on his eye?"
They both looked over at Brutus who was sporting a truly magnificent black eye.
"Yes," Marcus said with a gasp, as if this was incredibly juicy gossip although it was honestly tame by Capitol standards.
"He got that when they all got into it the other night. Although it's difficult to say whether Lyme or Valeria gave it to him."
"Oh my," Marcus said. "You victors do love your drama."
"We do," Mags said. Reva was calling her communicuff again. "But you can imagine that things are tense at the District 2 mentoring station this year with Lyme and Brutus doing the mentoring. They're so distracted by all this drama that I'm afraid their tributes may suffer."
Marcus was now fanning himself with his hand. The story Mags had told was mostly true, although she doubted that it would truly affect the District 2 tributes. Lyme and Brutus were both experienced enough at mentoring to not let personal drama get in the way. The District 2 team was always a well-oiled machine anyway.
It was time to go in for the kill. Mags leaned forward and placed her hand over Marcus's.
"Listen. If you don't want to sponsor us then don't sponsor us. We're not desperate for the money. I've been getting calls about sponsorships for most of our conversation."
Mags held up her communicuff, carefully concealing the fact that it was Seeder calling her again and not a potential sponsor.
"I'd just hate to see you miss out on sponsoring a real star. You know I can pick them. Who is the best mentor in the history of the Hunger Games?"
Marcus rolled his eyes. "You are, Mags," he admitted.
Of course he knew that. Everyone knew that.
"Right. I am. You know how many victors I've mentored?"
"Seven," Marcus said.
"Nine, actually," Mags corrected. "I've mentored seven from District 4 and two from other districts that I was assigned to."
Back before each district had a victor, it used to be common to assign victors to mentor outside their districts.
"You've mentored every victor from District 4 except for yourself," Marcus said, with a small smile.
"That's right. So I wouldn't be here talking up Kadie Oneel unless I thought she had a real chance now would I?"
Marcus gave a small shake of his head.
"I guess not."
What Mags was suggesting wasn't precisely true. There were plenty of years when she got a weak tribute and she had to try to make the best of it anyway. But there was no reason for Marcus Tuft to know that. And Mags' girl did have a chance to win it this year. She'd scored a ten in training.
"So can I count on your kind sponsorship yet again?" Mags asked.
Marcus gave her a slight smile. "Oh Mags. You can always count on me."
"Good," Mags said. "Now if you'll excuse me I need to go powder my nose."
Mags stood from the table and headed away from the party. Walinda, the other mentor from District 4 this year raised an eyebrow as Mags passed. Walinda was probably the second best mentor in their district, but her boy didn't stand much of a chance this year. He'd gotten a low training score and hadn't managed to make the Career pack. This meant that he would likely freeze to death along with the outer district kids.
Mags just hoped that the District 2 mentors were distracted enough not to swoop in on Tuft the minute Mags left the table. At this stage of the Games, Mags normally would have been bagging new sponsors, particularly when she had a tribute with a high training score. The icy arena meant that Mags had spent most of the last two days reassuring existing sponsors rather than finding new ones.
Mags found a secluded alcove away from the bustling brunch. Her communicuff was going off yet again. Haymitch this time.
"Yes?" Mags answered it.
"Mags," Haymitch said in his District 12 accent. "We've found the boy. He's in the hospital."
Mags experienced a physical pain in her heart. She clasped one hand over her chest.
"Finnick's in the hospital?" she asked, calmly.
"Yeah. A broken nose and a dislocated shoulder. And he's bruised up really badly."
Mags had sent Reva and a few of the others out to search for Finnick when he'd failed to show up at the District 4 apartments earlier in the morning. She wasn't sure how Haymitch had ended up involved in the search.
"Did he check himself in?" Mags asked. "He didn't call one of us."
Haymitch laughed without any humor. "He wasn't in a shape to check himself in anywhere. He was unconscious. The client called an ambulance."
Haymitch practically spat this last bit out. Mags felt her hand clench. She supposed that explained why none of the victors knew what had happened to Finnick.
"Was it Appius Sharpe?" she asked.
"You got it," Haymitch said. Appius Sharpe was Finnick's public "boyfriend." Finnick had plenty of clients that he saw more privately, but Appius was the one who had already put him in the hospital twice this year.
"Fuck him," Mags said. "So Finnick is unconscious?"
"No, he's awake now," Haymitch said. "He's asking for you, Mags."
"He's— he's asking for me?"
"Yeah. Where are you anyway?"
"You know where I am," Mags said, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice. "I'm where you should be."
"Sponsorship Brunch?" Haymitch asked.
"Of course."
"That over yet?"
"Only half over."
There was a long silence before Haymitch spoke again.
"Look, I'm not telling you what to do here. I'm just saying that the boy is sitting in a hospital bed looking like hell. And he's asking for you. A lot."
Mags' eyes were drawn back to one of the screens where the blizzard continued on. She was a good enough mentor to know what she should do.
"Finnick's injuries aren't life threatening, are they?"
"No. You know how good Capitol medicine is. They're saying he could be out of the hospital in as little as two days. Victors' Affairs is hoping that he can work again in less than a week."
Mags shivered. The images of so many children freezing must have gotten to her. She knew the correct answer here. Finnick didn't truly need her. There would be any number of other victors visiting him at the hospital by now. But he was asking for her because he viewed his mentor as a security blanket. Finnick was still such a boy.
Kadie Oneel, however, did need Mags to sit through the rest of the soul-crushing Sponsorship Brunch. This was traditionally one of the last chances to snag really big sponsors. And Mags needed to make sure that District 2 didn't scoop up any more of the sponsors that she'd already found.
But Mags couldn't get the image out of her head of Finnick sitting in a hospital bed, all bruised up and asking for her.
"I'll be there in a few minutes," she said.
When a victor needed to stay in the hospital, Victors' Affairs always cleared out a full floor of the huge hospital that they were always placed in. They wouldn't want anyone asking too many questions about why a victor had been hospitalized. Hospitalizations of victors were nearly always kept hush-hush.
Mags found that many of the victors who hadn't been at the Sponsorship Brunch were here at the hospital. She wasn't exactly surprised. Finnick was well-liked among the other victors, still the youngest even in his third year among them. Mags spotted Reva, who was just as old as Mags herself, having won two years later. Reva was the first of many tributes that Mags had mentored to victory. She was sitting in the waiting room, knitting a sock, but she stood when she spotted Mags.
"Maggie, it's good you're here," she said. Reva was one of the few people who still called her Maggie. "The boy's been asking for you."
"Haymitch made it sound like he's been asking nonstop," Mags said.
"He was," Reva said. "But we managed to get him calmed down a bit. Don't I always take good care of your kids when you can't be there?"
"You do," Mags said, with a slight smile. It was true in more ways than one. Reva had zero talent as a mentor, but she was quite good with people. All the younger victors ended up looking at her as a kind of grandmother.
"Well, he's in there," Reva said, gesturing to a hospital room. "You should go on in. There's several victors in there already."
"Who?"
"Um. Charlie. Seeder, I think. Haymitch, Gloss."
"Gloss?" Mags asked. She wasn't the biggest fan of Gloss, who had won the year before Finnick. She knew that Finnick was friends with him, however. Charlie was fine. He was one of Mags' victors as well, having won the 57th Hunger Games for District 4. So was Seeder, who was from District 11, but who Mags had mentored back when District 11 didn't have any victors available. And Seeder had mentored Haymitch during the 50th Hunger Games. So they were all Mags' victors either directly or indirectly, except for Gloss.
"Gloss," Reva confirmed. "It's good for Finnick to have friends closer to his own age."
"Sure," Mags said, doubtfully. She turned toward the hospital room and went inside.
Finnick was sitting up, propped against a pillow. He appeared to be telling a joke that the others were all laughing at. He looked awful. His nose was covered in gauze and tape and he had quite the black eye. His lip was swollen and split open and Mags could see that the bruises extended over other parts of his body. There were some around his neck. His left arm was in a sling.
Mags thought of his Games, as she always did when Finnick ended up in the hospital. She thought of how he'd made it through the 65th Hunger Games with no serious injuries — one of the few victors to have accomplished as much. He hadn't been starving or dehydrated either. His sponsors had been too good for that. The worst thing that the medics had treated Finnick for after his victory had been some badly skinned knees. It had reminded Mags of the types of injuries that boys would get on the playground. They hadn't even hospitalized him. In the years since his victory, however, Finnick had been in the hospital several times.
When Finnick spotted Mags, he stopped his story.
"Mags," he said. "You came."
How could he say things like that? As if he'd expected her not to come.
"Of course I came, silly boy," Mags said, lightly.
She walked over to the bed and leaned down to hug him, touching him gingerly to avoid hurting him more. He held onto her for a minute more than was strictly necessary. When he pulled away, his eyes were wet.
"They said you were busy with mentoring duties," Finnick said.
Finnick had no idea what mentoring really entailed because she hadn't allowed him to do it yet. He had enough on his plate. Besides, Mags didn't think that having a mentor who was younger than many of the tributes would exactly promote confidence in their district.
"I'm never too busy for my boy," Mags said, ruffling his hair.
"Your tribute did well at the bloodbath," Finnick said, gesturing toward a television hanging in the corner of the room that everyone had been ignoring. It showed nothing but snow and ice. "Maybe she'll win and I won't be the youngest in District 4."
Mags smiled. "You'd still be the youngest. Kadie is eighteen."
"Damn," Finnick said.
Finnick always said that he didn't like being the youngest, although Mags was never sure if this was really true. If a tribute who was seventeen or eighteen won this year, as was likely, then Finnick would be youngest for yet another year. He'd only just turned seventeen.
They chatted some more about Kadie as Mags resolutely avoided looking at Seeder. Seeder was one of her victors, but Kadie had killed her tribute during the bloodbath and things could get dicey between victors in situations like that. Best not to speak with Seeder about it directly until some more time had passed.
"Finnick," Gloss said, just as they were beginning to discuss the frozen arena. "Looks like it's almost time for ice cream."
A hospital worker in blue scrubs stood in the doorway holding one of the folded papers that they used to take meal orders. She handed the paper to Finnick and he immediately flipped to the end to look at the ice cream options. Mags could see that it was a lunch menu with a choice of two kinds of sandwiches, four kinds of drinks, and three kinds of fruit. As usual, however, there was a choice of over forty kinds of ice cream. This was because the lunch was the same hospital food that was fed to all the patients, but the ice cream was for victors only. It was delicious, exclusive, and laced with sleep syrup. Mags wondered if Finnick knew about the sleep syrup.
"I want chocolate," Finnick said. "No, cherry. No. Mango."
"I'm partial to the pistachio," Gloss said.
"Not sweet enough," Finnick said. "What's your favorite, Mags?"
"My favorite would be seeing you choose some real food instead of obsessing over the ice cream," Mags said.
"But the ice cream helps me sleep," Finnick said, which answered any doubts that Mags might have had over whether he knew about the sleep syrup. "I don't have a concussion this time, so I can sleep as much as I want. The doctors said that I probably passed out from the pain."
Mags winced as Finnick dutifully picked up a pencil and made selections on the other parts of the menu without reading them. Then he turned back to the ice cream.
"Has anyone tried the peach?" he asked.
"It's one of my favorites," Seeder said.
"Hm," Finnick said. "What about you, Haymitch? What's your favorite?"
Haymitch was leaning lazily against the wall. He shrugged.
"Maple nut, maybe?" he said.
"I'm not the biggest maple fan," Finnick said. "Mags, come on. What's your favorite?"
Mags crossed her arms and gave him a stern look.
"I can sleep as much as I want," Finnick repeated. "Reva's been on the phone with Victors' Affairs all morning and they're giving me three days off at least."
He looked positively thrilled to have a three day reprieve from the madness. From the abuse.
"Bet you're glad not to have to look at Appius Sharpe's ugly mug for three days," Charlie said. Mags could have strangled him. Charlie had always had a way of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and bringing up Finnick's client now, when he was putting on a brave face, was hardly the best thing.
Finnick's expression darkened. "Yeah."
"Wait," Mags said. "Three days? You mean Sharpe isn't getting a season ban? Victors' Affairs swore to me that if this happened again that they would give that asshole a season ban."
Haymitch laughed, darkly. "The promises of Victors' Affairs are worth about as much as a goose egg."
Mags crossed her arms. It seemed to her that the sex trafficking of victors got a little worse every year. They'd always done it. But even ten years ago, any client who put a victor in the hospital wouldn't be able to see that victor again. This wasn't to say that clients had ever truly been punished for their treatment of victors. But Victors' Affairs used to issue season bans and even lifelong bans to particularly vicious clients with some regularity. They hadn't wanted to see their victors injured, after all.
"Reva was on the phone with them for over an hour," Seeder said. "But they wouldn't budge. Maybe you would have better luck with them."
"I'll call them later," Mags said, mentally adding the task to the many calls that she needed to make concerning sponsorships for Kadie.
"It won't make any difference," Finnick said. "What's your favorite kind of ice cream, Charlie?"
Charlie thought about it for a moment. "Chocolate. Because I never had it growing up."
"I like the chocolate too," Finnick said. "But I get it a lot. I think I'll go with the peach."
He made a little check mark beside the word "peach." Then, he looked up and for a moment such a horrified expression came over his face that Mags almost jumped. He shrank back against the bed frame, the menu falling from his limp hand. Mags looked up to see a man with crimson colored hair and eyes standing in the doorway.
Appius Sharpe.
The other victors gathered closer around Finnick as if by instinct. Seeder walked over to stand by the foot of Finnick's bed. Haymitch straightened up from where he'd been leaning against the wall and came over to stand beside Seeder. Charlie crossed his arms over his chest and stepped closer to Finnick. Even Gloss stood from where he'd been slouching in a chair and faced Appius. Mags gripped Finnick's bed frame tightly.
The man strolled into the room as if he hadn't noticed anything amiss. An Avox followed at his heels, holding a black leather bag and a large bouquet of flowers. Appius strode quickly over to the bed and deposited the flowers on the nightstand beside Finnick. He took Finnick's hand in his own.
"Finnick, darling," he said. "I'm so glad to see that you're feeling better."
Finnick looked away, his eyes downcast. Charlie snorted, derisively. The rest of them just stared at Appius. Mags was gripping the bed frame so hard that she almost thought her fingers would leave an imprint. This type of thing didn't happen. Clients didn't get to further harass victors while they were in a hospital bed. They were at least allowed to recover in relative peace.
Until now, it seemed. Because no one was coming to drag Appius out of the room. Mags looked at the flowers. If they'd been roses, then she would have thought this was some sort of message, but they were hydrangeas. Finnick had once stated on camera that hydrangeas were his favorite flower.
"Victors' Affairs is being difficult with me, I'm afraid," Appius said. "Saying that this was my last strike. But you aren't angry with me, are you sweetheart? You know how my temper can get. And you know that I don't mean anything by it."
Mags had never wanted to kill someone so badly in her life. She saw anger on the faces of the other victors. And she also saw Finnick shooting them all warning glances from beneath lowered eyes. He didn't want them to do anything drastic.
"You hurt me badly, Appius," Finnick said, not looking up. "Just look at my face. You know how I like to keep my face looking pretty for you."
"I know, baby," Appius said. "I know you do. And I'm sorry for that. Things just got a little out of hand. Surely Victors' Affairs can understand that? You can make them understand, can't you?"
A chill gripped Mags' body. This asshole thought he could beat Finnick half to death and then get Finnick to beg Victors' Affairs to let him book appointments again. Fuck this man.
"Finnick isn't taking appointments at the moment," Mags said. "He's recovering. You shouldn't be here."
Appius Sharpe completely ignored her. It was like the rest of them weren't even in the room.
"Baby, I brought you something pretty to show you how sorry I am," Appius said.
He snapped his fingers in the Avox's direction and the Avox began to unload the contents of the black bag. One by one, he took out three long jewelry boxes and placed them on the tray table in front of Finnick. Appius opened them and revealed three golden bracelets covered in what appeared to be very expensive gemstones. One had red stones, one had blue, and the last had green. Mags would have guessed that they were rubies, sapphires, and emeralds.
Finnick picked up the blue one and held it idly against his wrist.
"You can pick whichever one you like," Appius said. "I thought the green matched your eyes, but you have so much green already."
When Finnick looked up, his expression had completely changed. His eyes were full of mystery and desire. His lips were pouty and suggestive. A lock of hair fell over his face just so. Mags drew in a sharp breath.
"I want all of them," Finnick said.
"What?" Appius asked.
"Finnick," Mags said, in warning.
"I want all three of them. Can't I have all three, Daddy? To go with different outfits."
"I — um." Appius paused for a minute, seeming unsure. Then, he looked into Finnick's eyes. "I — of course you can, baby. Of course you can have all three."
"And I want three dozen boxes of my favorite chocolates from Candy Couture."
Candy Couture was a sweets shop near the city center. They sold boxes of chocolates that could have paid a fisherman's wages for a month.
"Of course," Appius said. Having granted one request, it was apparently easier to grant the second.
"And I want a fur coat from Tigris's shop. The purple one with the tassels."
"Finnick," Mags said
This was another absurdly expensive item. Mags didn't know the specific coat that Finnick was talking about, but Tigris was a stylist for the Hunger Games which meant that anything from her shop would be absurdly expensive.
"Welp, this has been a hoot and all," Haymitch said. "But I think I'm going to go puke."
He walked abruptly from the room. Appius looked uncertain.
"He's drunk," Finnick said.
"Ah. Ah," Appius said, with a bit of a laugh. Haymitch was developing a reputation as a drunk. A well-deserved reputation. Mags had thought she'd caught a whiff of booze on him when she'd walked in. Maybe Appius had smelled it as well and would interpret Haymitch's comment as him being hungover and not as him being sickened by what was happening. Which was obviously how he'd meant it.
"And Daddy?" Finnick said, clearly trying to regain Appius's attention.
Mags winced. She knew that some of the youngest victors had taken to referring to their clients as Daddy or Mommy, but it creeped Mags out.
"Yes, doll?" Appius asked.
"I want a car."
"Finnick!" Mags exclaimed.
From the hint of cunning in Finnick's eyes, she guessed that this was what he'd been angling for the whole time. Finnick had been talking about getting a car for the better part of a year. Mags had been discouraging him. The other gifts had just been warm-ups to get Appius in the giving mood.
"I want the new '68 Kreisla Dragonfire with nitro boost capabilities, silver plated interior, and leather seats. And I want it in red. No, orange. No. Lime green."
Appius laughed, uneasily. "Now Finnick. That's a lot of car for such a young boy."
The car Finnick was talking about was a ridiculous Capitol monstrosity that was probably worth more than his house in Victor's Village. Several of the victors owned cars. Mags had one herself. But the type of car that Finnick was describing was designed for elite Capitol people to show off their wealth.
"But I want it, Daddy," Finnick said. "Gloss's Daddy bought him a car. Didn't he?"
Finnick shot a sharp look at Gloss who stood a little straighter.
"Oh — um — yeah, he sure did," Gloss said. "It wasn't a Dragonfire though."
"You see?" Finnick asked. "If you buy me a Dragonfire then all the other victors will be jealous. They'll all think that I have the best Daddy."
Mags was starting to agree with Haymitch. This conversation made her want to puke.
"Finnick," she said, trying to catch his eye. "You know that your mother doesn't want you to have a car."
Finnick's mouth tightened. Perhaps bringing up his mother wasn't the best move. It would remind him of all the people he had to protect which would remind him that he needed to stay on Appius's good side. But Mags couldn't think of anything else to say. There were a hundred things that were fucked up about the situation, but most of the objections that she could raise could end up getting Finnick or herself in trouble.
"She's not the boss of me," Finnick said.
"Well. Technically you're just seventeen," Mags said.
It was a feeble objection and they all knew it. Finnick's mother had ceased to have any say over his life the moment his name had been drawn from the reaping ball.
"But my Daddy says I can have a car. Don't you, Daddy?" Finnick asked.
This was all the more horrifying because Finnick's real father had died a year earlier. Mags was fairly sure that Snow had killed him. She couldn't be certain, though, because she couldn't get Finnick to talk about it.
Appius seemed to consider for a long moment, looking around the room and then back at Finnick. He took a deep breath.
"Of course you can have the car, darling," he said.
Mags briefly imagined all the headaches she was going to get when Finnick's mother found out about this car and started calling Mags about it.
"Oh, good," Finnick said, lazily. "I really wanted it." He clasped the blue bracelet around his wrist and held it up to the light.
"And … surely you can make Victors' Affairs see reason," Appius said."They can't keep us apart like this."
"Oh, sure," Finnick said.
"Finnick doesn't have any control over what Victors' Affairs decides," Mags said, sharply.
This was true enough, but in this case Victors' Affairs had already been in the mind to send Finnick back to Appius. If Finnick told them that it didn't bother him then they would do it for certain. What was he thinking? This man could kill him.
"Finnick, doll," Appius said, without even glancing in Mags' direction. "Do you think we could talk alone for a minute?"
Finnick gave him a long look, his face not showing much expression. Finally, he shrugged.
"Sure," he said. "Could you guys give us a minute?"
"I don't think that's a good idea," Mags said.
Finnick took her hand and gave it a squeeze.
"Please, Mags. It'll be okay."
Mags looked around at the other victors and then at Appius Sharpe. Then, she looked back at Finnick's pleading eyes.
"I'm leaving the fucking door open," she said, glaring at Appius. He continued ignoring her.
"Okay," Finnick said.
"We'll all be right out there."
She knew that Finnick wasn't in physical danger at the moment. Appius was in the mood for apologies and gifts, not beatings. She still didn't like the idea of leaving the boy alone with that man for even a minute. Of course, if things kept going in the direction they seemed to be going, Finnick would be back in his bed within a few days.
"Okay, Mags," Finnick said.
They all filed out of the room slowly. Mags cast one last regretful look in Finnick's direction. Appius was holding his hand and whispering something in his ear. Finnick had a sly, false smile plastered on his face. Mags shook her head and stepped out into the waiting room. Reva was on her in a minute.
"You left him there alone with that man?" she asked.
"Finnick asked that we leave," Mags said, wearily. "And I'm afraid that all your efforts with Victors' Affairs are for nothing. Finnick basically just told the man that he would give them the green light for more appointments."
Reva shook her head.
"That boy," she said. "Well, I'll keep calling anyway. He's seventeen. He doesn't know what's in his own best interests."
Mags would call Victors' Affairs as well, but it wouldn't do any good. She caught sight of Haymitch abusing a coffee vending machine in the corner. She patted Reva on the shoulder and walked over to Haymitch.
"Maybe you'll hit a bit of luck," Mags said.
"Maybe pigs will fly," Haymitch replied, finally getting his coffee cup filled to the brim. "Look, I'm going to take off. Tell Finnick I'll come see him tomorrow."
"Sure," Mags said. "I expect to see you at Mentor Central this evening."
"I was headed there now," Haymitch said. "Although it's not like I could miss anything with the Games being on every screen in the city. And if a sponsor really wants to reach me, I always have the arm-shackle."
Haymitch held up the arm with his communicuff and shook it in Mags' direction. What he was saying was true, but it was also true that the mentors in Mentor Central would likely get some television time later in the evening, during mandatory viewing. This was particularly true if the Games themselves were slow.
"I'll see you there," Mags said.
Haymitch rolled his eyes and walked away. Mags walked over to where Seeder and Reva appeared to be having a conversation about their grandchildren. Seeder had just welcomed her first grandchild a month ago. Reva had any number of grandkids.
"Seeder," Mags said, interrupting them. "Have you talked to him about his drinking?"
"Who? Haymitch?" Seeder asked. "About a million times."
"Today?" Mags pressed. "I could smell liquor on him just now and it's barely past noon."
Seeder blinked. "Well, no. He lost a tribute yesterday. And this morning we were all looking for Finnick. It didn't seem like the ideal time for a lecture."
Mags snorted. She could see Seeder's point, but she also knew that Seeder was too soft on Haymitch. They all were, really. It came from feeling sorry for him when he'd lost his family so young. Not that Mags had much room to lecture any mentor for being soft on a victor when Finnick was batting his eyelashes at a man like Appius Sharpe.
As if summoned by Mags' thought, Appius walked out Finnick's room, his Avox following behind him. He didn't look at any of them, just walked away. He looked pleased enough.
"I'd like to speak to Finnick alone for a moment," Mags announced to the room. No one objected. She walked into FInnick's room and closed the door behind her.
"Hey Mags," Finnick said. He was picking at his hospital gown, absently.
"Finnick," Mags said, softly. She walked toward his bed. "Why would you do what you just did?"
Finnick shrugged and looked away.
"I have to go out with him. Might as well get something out of it."
"Reva's been on the phone with Victors' Affairs trying to get him a season ban. Would you just throw away all her efforts?"
"I appreciate Reva doing that," Finnick said. "But they won't ban Appius. And even if they do, they'll just set me up with someone just as bad."
"Finnick," Mags said, trying to keep the impatience out of her voice. "Do you know what that man thinks now? He thinks it's okay to put you in the hospital as long as he buys you a car afterwards."
Finnick's eyes snapped up.
"But it is okay if he puts me in the hospital whether he buys me anything or not. At least this way I get the car."
"It's not okay—"
"It's okay with the only people whose opinion matters," Finnick said. "Victors' Affairs."
Mags' reached out and ran a hand through his copper-colored hair. Finnick leaned into her touch.
"Boy. You don't even know how to drive," she tried.
"Gloss will teach me."
"Gloss has wrecked his car three times in the last year!"
"Then Haymitch will teach me."
"Haymitch doesn't know how to drive, Finnick. Besides, he's drunk most of the time."
"Then one of the other victors will teach me," Finnick said. "One of them must know how to drive. And if they don't, then one of my Daddies will teach me. Daddies love cars like that, you know."
He looked up and gave her a wink. Mags took a steadying breath.
"Boy—"
"I don't want to argue right now," Finnick said, sounding so old and weary. "I'm supposed to be recovering. Oh look! My ice cream is here."
Mags looked up to see a nurse holding a tray of food walking into the room. One side of the tray was dominated by a huge bowl of pale orange ice cream with whipped cream on top. Mags sighed. She'd get nothing more out of Finnick today. He was done.
Mags stayed with him as he dutifully ate three bites of his sandwich at her request. Then, he devoured the entire bowl of ice cream and promptly fell asleep. Mags stayed with him most of the afternoon.