Page 89 of Forsaking All Others

“The reality of the situation is that we’re in a game to the death, Thorun,” I sigh as I push the make-up woman away and rise, “and in case you haven’t noticed, every single one of us, bar one, is going to die here. What kills us: shark, gun, knife, rope, poison. It doesn’t matter. We’re all doomed. All but one of us.”

“I know, but..”

“There are no buts.” I shake my head and suck in my breath as the costume lady laces me into the corset of the black and red gown I’d chosen. “Don’t you see how it is yet? Once contestants are eliminated nobody talks about them any longer. They’re just gone. If you sit around and cry, you’ll be next. You have to just keep going and keep your eye on the prize.”

“She was my friend,” Thorun says quietly, turning back to the mirror.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this,” I snap, “there are no friends in this game.”

64

The masks do nothing to conceal the women’s identities, hiding only the top half of their faces. They do, however, make them bolder than usual, which I imagine is exactly why the producers had called for such an event at this juncture.

I scan the room, picking up snatches of conversation here and there. Not one person has mentioned Valérie, although I note Thorun’s looking a little down this evening.

Mostly they’re discussing my date with the Greek and undertaking rigorous post-mortems of her salacious details. So far tonight I’ve already been questioned by several jealous contestants over Vasiliki’s claims that we made love for hours, and that I’d promised her my ring. I’ve confessed nothing, saying only that a gentleman never kisses and tells. Actually, we’d fucked hard and she’d spent the rest of the flight just as she had before our exercise — looking into her hand mirror. I’ve never met such a self-absorbed, narcissistic creature, and can’t imagine leading one down the aisle. Fortunately, if the conversations I’m hearing now are anything to go by, there’s no chance she’s going to make it out of this country, let alone into my castle.

The music starts, and I murmur my excuses to those surrounding me and make my way across the room to the Italian.

She’s the kind of woman who would attract attention in any setting, but dressed as she is tonight, she stands out more than usual.

She’s wearing a red and black gown that’s very flattering to her skin tone, and long black gloves. A red velvet ribbon around her throat completes her ensemble. As usual, the sight of the ribbon makes my fangs tingle, but I remind myself that she’s just an ordinary, mortal woman, ‘or so she says,’ and I have no excuse whatsoever to be thinking about her as a meal. Nevertheless, tonight I’d like to have a few more of my questions answered.

“May I?” I hold out my hand and wait as she hesitates slightly before taking it.

Walking her to the dance floor, she stiffens as I pull her close.

“You’ll have to relax if I’m to lead, Cat,” I murmur into her ear as the music builds.

“I’m not used to it, that’s all,” she mutters. “And don’t call me that.”

We come to a standstill, and I lean back to look at her. All eyes are upon us, I know, but this conversation is important.

“I know you’re not used to being close to others, but as to your name, I understood your friends call you Cat.”

“I thought we’d already ascertained I don’t have any friends.”

“You saving Thorun’s life would negate that statement. Wouldn’t you say?”

“A life for a life,” she shrugs. “We’re even now.”

“If you say so,” I chuckle, shaking my head at her stubbornness.

“What makes you think you and I are friends, Jaguar? I don’t recall saving your life.”

I shrug.

“You claim you’re going to win the Game and become my wife. At present you’re one of the strongest competitors. You speak to me with candour because you don’t fear me as the others do, I imagine because you know I’m not going to kill you. Consequently, I enjoy our conversations. Shouldn’t we at least try to be friends?” I catch the eye of the director, and sigh. “I believe Mr Dott is going to have a fit if we don’t dance soon.”

She nods, but her heart is hammering as I draw her closer.

“Will you let me lead you, Cat?”

“If you’re strong enough,” she whispers, “otherwise, no.”

My body stirs at her words, although I don’t know why, and I try to quell the obvious reaction that’s beginning to arise, but fail miserably.

‘Oh, Christ. Why here? Why now?’