The Trap


"Slovoc!" I shriek. "He's just a kid!"

"There is always someone," Aquila leers, standing and towering over me. "Chose, Petra Angelovna. Yourself, or the boy. Everything has its price. Now I know yours."

"Fuck you! He's just a kid!"

"Yet there is a market for such a thing," he informs me coldly. "All desires can be accommodated, for the right price."

Tasha tried to warn me. Tried to tell me how provocative that Outfit was. She said beautiful women were forced to be seen…she never said a thing about kids. Fuck. Beautiful, timid little Malcovitch. Fuck. I won't let him suffer. Won't let him become this monster's you slaughter a bull, you have to be quick. The slightest hesitation, the slightest deviation and he'll rear his head and catch you with his horns or trample you underfoot. Even dying he's dangerous due to his bulk—if he falls on you, you'll suffocate. His Peacekeepers are slow. For show. Not a one of them—not even Senator Aquila—expects anyone to be stupid enough to attack him.

I am.

One hand. That's all it takes. One hand and all my weight up underneath his ribs and a bubble of blood and Senator Aquila staggers back, staggers back a look of utmost horror on his face—

The dancers have ceased. His Peacekeepers charge forward. "You—!" He croaks, stumbling against the table.

"It's just a lung, pizda!" I shout. "It's not fatal! But if you or anyone else make a threat against Malcovitch I swear to God I'll kill you. Am I bluffing now?" I shove the table over, glasses splintering. "Am I?"

"You imbecile, you think you're untouchable?" He rasps from his knees, catching hold of my hem. "I'll cut you off, no Sponsors, no aid-"

But he's only mortal. Only flesh, bone and blood. There's hundreds of eyes on us, all watching, all waiting. I'm going to the Hunger Games in two days, and he can't frighten me. I kick him. Hard.

"You do that," I seethe. "You tell everyone else to do the same. Power and appearances? There's not a man in this room right now who has any doubts I'll win the Hunger Games. I just made a hundred Sponsors, and there's nothing you can do to stop them. And I'll win. I'll kill all those children and when I'm done, I'll kill you. You wanted me? Wanted them to know you were the one who had me?" I gesture around to the frightened, cowering Avox, the faceless Peacekeepers, and the silent party guests, still as stone. "There they are," I spit in his face. "Consider yourself thoroughly fucked."

They're all watching now. I make a statement. "Any of you rich fucks still brave enough to want me in bed? In case you haven't noticed, 6 girls like it rough." Then I walk. Head up. Shoulders back. I walk. No one moves to stop me. They shrink back, afraid.

A horrified face, paler even than it was in the Arena. "Angelovna," FInnick Odair whispers. "What did you do?"

"He deserved it," I tell him, shaking in rage. "Every bit. They all do." All of them.

But Finnick Odair isn't the only one. "That was a Senator," Snow appraises me coldly.

He sold me. Would have sold Malcovitch. He deserves the same. "I didn't vote for him," I return. Odair's tanned skin blanches grey.

"I thought you were to inform her on protocol?" Snow asks, ignoring me.

"I was, I did!" District 4's champion falls to his knees. "I'll fix this, I promise! Just don't hurt her," he pleads. "Please—"

What—?

"I never have," Snow returns. "And never will, so long as you keep your word."

"You know I will." He chokes.

"Then we have nothing more to discuss."

"Annie-" he moans.

Annie? Annie Cresta? Is Finnick fucking his own Tribute—?

"Will be produced once the Games are over," Snow dismisses him. "See to your duties. And see to it I need not remind you again."

…no, no it's worse than that, I realize. Finnick Odair is fucking whoever Snow tells him to. To spare her. Protect her. He stands, half-dressed and sobbing, eyes red-rimmed and awash with tears. A Senator puts a hand in his hair, pulls him close and kisses them away. A man kissing a man. It goes through me like a jolt. Finnick's boisterous reputation isn't a reputation at all: it's a lie. He's more trapped than I am. Whoever his Annie is, I find myself hoping she isn't hurt on account of me.

Pizda, Petra! My mind is reeling. What have you done?

A rustle behind us. The Senator struggles to stand. "I want her," Aquila spits to his Peacekeepers, "in chains. And then I fuck you bloody, Butcher." He leers, bloody spittle punctuating every word. "In every orifice. And if you're very, very lucky, I won't let my staff do the same."

President Snow eyes him coolly. "I think not."

"It's too late for that, Coriolanus." Aquila snarls, clutching the metal gaping from his chest. "You offered. I accepted. The deal is done."

For nearly a minute they stare, each incensed. My life, my body hangs in the balance. And I am not forgotten. "Come, Petra." Snow commands me. "I have something to show you. And bring him," he orders Aquila's Peacekeepers curtly. "I won't have my guests assaulted under my own roof."

The Senator pales, blood frothing from his lips. "You can't-"

"Can't I?" he asks dangerously. "Can't is a very trying word. And I warn you, Aquila, not to try my patience."

From his knees Aquila defies him. "You think you can intimidate me?" he hisses. "Everyone here knows you wouldn't. Not during an election year. You need me, need my support-"

"Intimidate?" Snow counters, countenance stern. "I asked you to frighten in intractable teenager. Instead you made me look like a fool."

Power and appearances. Power and appearances. The orchestra has gone silent, all the dancers ceased to spin, every eye, every ear in Panem watching, waiting. It's a dangerous game they're playing, and I don't know who will win. Don't know who should. Either way, I'm fucked.

Aquila moves first. "You wouldn't. You need me to win, Coriolanus. You're nothing without me."

"Wouldn't I?" Snow repeats thoughtfully. "I suppose not. You're correct. Such a move would be seen as too political if I were involved…and it is an election year." He sneers. "Very well," Snow claps his hands. "Take him to the Game Enforcers."

The hushed hall grows cold. I shudder.

"Tell them he abducted and assaulted a Tribute. The poor girl had to fend for her virginity with a knife. It's lucky for her I was able to intervene." Snow never raises his voice, but all hear him. "Say in light of the heinous, vile nature of these crimes the State has now seized his assets and stripped his titles, possessions, and pensions. Tell them I take it as personal insult such an act was performed under my own roof…and see to it they bring him to justice."

"No!" Aquila rasps as his own men drag him away. "You can't do this to me, you can't do this to ME-!"

The doors shut, and the orchestra resumes its tune.

"Come, Petra." Snow orders me. "It appears I bore you with subtleties. Allow me to demonstrate that Resistance is futile."