“You keep saying he’s close,” Callisthene said, an hour after my break down.

“He is,” I assured him.

“If he’s close, then why haven’t we found him yet?” Callisthene demanded, irritably.

“Because this place doesn’t make sense,” I snapped back. I wasn’t exactly feeling all that more chartable. We had thirteen hours to find Jett and our rooms. I wasn’t even going to mention my growing desire to find Cia as well. I didn’t want Callisthene to hit the roof.

After seeing Andy’s true nature, I replayed the scene I had walked in on. As I mentally examined each bit of the memory, I realized that Cia hadn’t willingly been in that position. Andy had had her trapped with one arm around her waist and had forced her head down, with his hand in her hair.

Doubtlessly, he’d been trying to drive Cia away from me. There was no doubt in my mind that Andy was an abusive boyfriend, the kind that like to have complete control over his girlfriends. I had seen him do the same to other girls, drive away their family and friends until he was all they had left. He’d gotten them so dependant on him that even when he started smacking them around, they’d been afraid to leave.

I knew Cia wouldn’t have willingly betrayed me like that, which made it easier to believe she’d been forced into that compromising position. I wanted to find her and apologize for jumping to the wrong conclusion. I wanted to make sure she was alright. But I wasn’t going to bring that up to Callisthene just yet, not when he had finally stopped complaining about looking for Jett.

“Of course this place doesn’t make sense,” Callisthene muttered. “If it made sense, we would have come across more people by now. I can’t remember the last time the Game seemed so... deserted.”

“Is that a bad thing?” I asked. “I mean, this place was huge to begin with, and you said yourself that it got bigger when the Game began. So maybe we just haven’t come across any of them.”

“In ten hours we should have,” he countered. “When things go too easily there’s always a worse trap in store.”

“You call everything we’ve been through easy?” I demanded.

“The Games have been harder and more dangerous in the past,” he explained. “Compared to then, this has been a cakewalk so far.”

“That doesn’t fill me with comfort,” I drawled.

“Good,” he retorted. “If you’re comfortable, you let your guard down.”

“If you let your guard down, you’re a sitting duck,” I finished. “Jett is always harping on keeping my guard up too.”

“Basically I got stuck with the suicidal twin,” Callisthene muttered.

“Hey!” I protested, shooting a weak glare at him. When I saw the slight quirk at the edges of his mouth, I realized something rather shocking. “Are you teasing me?”

“I don’t tease,” he lied. I could tell he was lying.

“Well, I’ll be,” I murmured, staring at him. “I think you’re warming up to me, Mine.”

“You’ve clearly been under too much stress,” he sniffed. “You’re just bait, remember? I don’t get attached to bait.”

“You like me,” I argued, grinning. “Admit it. I’ve grown on you. You’re going to miss me when I’m gone.”

“If you’re gone,” he corrected. “If you don’t make it to your room on time then you’ll be a pretty kitty.”

“But it’s not like you’ll be there to see that,” I reminded him. “You’ll be back in your necklace.”

“What makes you think I can’t take you with me?” he asked.

I hesitated as that question sank in. “Come again?”

“Even the prisoners get their pick of the losers, Pet,” he informed me. “Most of the time, the criminals will pick a human player as a favorite and claim him, or her. When they turn into a cat, the Immoral with first claim gets the kitty.”

“So,” I trailed off, not at all liking what Callisthene was implying. He grinned at me.

“You’re wearing my necklace, Pet,” he purred, brushing a finger along my jaw line. “If you’re not in your room come midnight, you’re mine.”

“Ah,” I mumbled, trying to figure out how I felt about that. “What about my brother?”

“I’d hate to break up a set, but if someone else has already claimed him, there’s nothing I can do,” Callisthene shrugged.

“If no one has?” I asked.

“Then why not?”

That might not be too horrible, I thought. I did a mental double take. What was I thinking? That might not be so horrible? He was talking about keeping me like a house cat! A pet! As though I had no free will or desires of my own. He was talking about keeping me as a slave.

But he was willing to try and keep Jett too. I had always known that, no matter the situation or circumstances, as long as I was with my brother, I could bear it. And besides, Callisthene wasn’t that bad. He had his moments of kindness…

I focused all of my thoughts on finding Jett. I did not want to continue down the mental path that thought would have taken me.

“This way,” I told Callisthene, nodding toward a door just ahead of where we were. The Immoral had stopped questioning my sense of direction.

The minute we stepped into the room behind the door, we were blasted with a spray of water. I sputtered, nearly choking on a mouthful of water.

“What the hell?” Callisthene yelped, spitting. The door slammed shut behind us, trapping us in a gale of rain.

And that was the only thing that it could have been. The rain was so thick that we could barely see each other when we were just a couple feet apart. We couldn’t see anything further than that. No walls, no furniture, nothing.

I felt Callisthene put an arm around me, just below my shoulders. He leaned down so he could yell and be heard above the roaring storm that had surrounded us. “Get us out of here, Pet.”

I nodded, knowing he could see it, and started limping in the direction I knew would lead me to Jett. He was somewhere beyond this room. Dispair filled me as I realized that he was starting to get further away. I wasn’t sure if that was because he was trying to find me and going in the wrong direction, or if someone was pulling him away.

My sense led us to a door a few minutes stumble away from the place we had entered. Callisthene fumbled with the handle, trying to pull open the door against the wind that was shoving at us. When he finally managed to open it, he pushed me through before following quickly. The door slammed such with a bang that echoed in the very large room we found ourselves in.

“You know, it’s been awhile since we’ve actually seen a hallway,” I mumbled, shivering. I was wet, cold and tired. Not a happy combination.

“Be grateful,” Callisthene advised me, not seeming too pleased himself. “No halls means no hall monitors.”

I remembered the horse sized, dog headed monster thing that we had seen before entering the romance book and shivered in agreement. I was willing to sacrifice hallways if it meant not having to come face to face with one of those things again.

I took a look around the room, trying to regain my bearings and take stock of what, if any, danger we were suddenly in. The room was vast and mostly empty, with several large windows along one side. Set in the middle was a long dinner table with hundreds of chairs pulled up along each side. A grand feast was laid out on that table, untouched and freshly cooked. Despite everything, my mouth watered at the sight.

“A banquet hall,” I mumbled. “Bet the food’s all poisoned.”

“Either that, or it’s spelled so that each thing will do something different to you,” Callisthene nodded.

“Like Alice in Wonderland,” I winced. “If there’s anything that says ‘eat me’ or ‘drink me’ stay away from it.”

“I’m not sure I want to know,” Callisthene decided. He put an arm around me and urged me forward. “Which way?”

I pointed toward the far end of the hall. “You know, having a sprained ankle really sucks.” If I hadn’t had to limp each time I took a step, I could probably kept going for the full twenty-four hours. I had the stamina for it, thanks to Jett and his morning exercises. Surprisingly enough, though, having a wounded ankle make things a lot harder.

“Then you shouldn’t have sprained it,” Callisthene informed me.

“As if I had a choice!” I protested.

“You were the one running around in those ankle breakers,” he reminded me, glancing down at my feet to indicate the heels we had discarded rooms ago.

“What was I supposed to do, stop and take them off before I ran for my life?” I asked, arching a brow. “We had to cut them off as it was.”

Callisthene opened his mouth to continue our bantering but rather than an argument, a yelp escaped him as he suddenly… shrank. I stared for a split second, not understanding what had happened, then I felt myself fall as well and a scream burst out of my mouth.

The fall didn’t last long, just a couple feet. A few seconds of heart thumping panic, I realized that Callisthene and I hadn’t fallen. Rather, the floor had gone soft and sucked us in. In fact, we were still sinking.

“Quick sand?” I yelped, trying to pull free from the mushy floorboards.

“Stop struggling,” Callisthene ordered, going as still as he could while he looked around. “You’ll only make yourself sink faster. Calm down and think.”

“Easy for you to say,” I muttered, trying to force my breathing to slow. I fought against every instinct I possessed not to fight the pull. Just as Callisthene said, as soon as I stopped struggling, I stopped sinking. At this point, however, I was up to my chest in… wood. “Who ever heard of quick wood anyway?”

“You’re still trying to make sense of this place?” Callisthene asked with a scoff. “Give me your staff.”

I obediently handed it over. After all, it wasn’t like it was doing me any good just then. He yanked the spear-staff out of the floor, sinking an inch for his effort. With the long weapon, he prodded the floor around us, trying to find a solid bit.

The clock counting down the amount of time left chimed twelve times and, with a wince, I realized that we had lost an hour somewhere. We were down to half the time. I bit my tongue to keep from telling Callisthene to hurry up.

“Alright, seems like the… quick wood,” he arched a brow at me as he used my term, “is only five feet in any direction.”

“Oh, only five feet,” I muttered sarcastically. “What a relief. I thought we were screwed. How are we supposed to get out of here?”

“By no panicking,” Callisthene answered, annoyingly calm. I wanted to smack him but I restrained myself. “Is there anything we can hook your staff on?”

I looked around, trying to find something, anything, we could attach the staff to so we could pull ourselves out. The table and chairs were six feet to our left, and there wasn’t any other furniture anywhere else in the room. If we’d had rope, I would have suggested tying one end to the staff and jamming it into a wall or the solid floor, but we didn’t have anything like that.

I blinked as I realized that I was wrong. I wanted to smack myself. “Hang on,” I told Callisthene. “If I sink, pull me up.”

Before Callisthene could question me, I pulled my arms free of the wood and started unwinding the long leather ribbon that had taken the place of a sleeve as part of my costume. I had completely forgotten about it and the straps around my legs until just then. The ones on my legs would have been longer, and thus a better choice, but there was really no way I was going to be able to get to those without sinking completely into the floor.

“Is this long enough to use to pull ourselves out?” I asked, holding out the leather ribbon. As soon as the question was out of my mouth, I knew what the answer was going to be. The ribbon was only about a yard long, not nearly enough for what we would need it for.

“Not a bad idea, Pet, but no,” Callisthene winced. “Not nearly long enough.”

I winced. “Okay, I’m going to try for one of the ones around my legs. Please don’t let me sink or drown or whatever would happen if I went under.”

He reached out to pull me closer to him, lifting me up a bit out of the floor as he did. He sank another couple inches for the effort. Now the floor reached the top of his ribcage and the bottom of mine. “I’ve got you,” he told me.

I nodded and pulled my leg up as best I could. After a bit of struggle and sinking several inches, I managed to four yards of leather strap free. By the time I had it, I was down to my shoulders and Callisthene was just barely managing to keep his head above the floor.

“Tie it around the spear and throw it,” Callisthene ordered, stretching his neck as far as he could.

“I know what I’m doing,” I snapped. Nearly being swallowed by the floor was making me a smidge testy, so sue me.

I tied one end of the leather strip around the spear and, with the other in my uninjured hand, I used my good hand to throw the spear as hard as I could at the floor six feet away from us. For a moment, I was afraid I hadn’t thrown it hard enough, or far enough. The moment passed as the diamond tipped spear wedged itself firmly in the very solid wooden floor.

I gave the leather a few sharp tugs to make sure it would hold then I wrapped my injured hand in the leather strap. “Hold on to me,” I ordered Callisthene. I didn’t know if he did as I told him.

I gripped the leather rope with my good hand and started pulling myself, and hopefully Callisthene, out of the floor. I ignored the needles that raced up my arm when I was forced to use my injured hand. Pull after painful pull, I tugged us closer to the edge of the soft wood. When I thought I couldn’t pull any more, Callisthene’s hand gripped the leather just above mine.

“Turn around and hold onto me,” he ordered, one arm still around my waist.

I fought to unwind my hand from the leather and, when I hand succeeded, managed to twist around so that I could wrap my arms around his neck. I was more than content to let him be the big strong he-man and pull us out of the floor. Within minutes, we were on solid ground again.

“Suggestion for the future?” I mumbled, eyeing the bit of floor that had tried to swallow us as though it was a portal to hell. For all I knew it was. “Let’s test the floor before we step.”

“Don’t think it’d do any good,” Callisthene scoffed. Before I could stop him, he leaned over and pressed his hand against the floor that had, just seconds ago, been as soft as sand. When he rested his weight on his hand, the floor remained solid. “Even if we tested every step before we took it, the palace might change its find and take the floor out from under us.”

“Great,” I groaned. “Just freaking great.”

“Come on,” Callisthene ordered, standing with a wince. He offered me a hand and helped me up when I took it. “Your brother still in the same direction?”

I checked quickly before nodding. Jett was a little further away, but we were still going in the right direction. Callisthene didn’t give me a chance to recuperate. He put his arm around my back and propelled me forward. I didn’t complain. We didn’t have the time it would take for me to try and regain my balance.

“When this is all over, I think I’m going to take a month off from reality just to have hysterics,” I muttered, not really intending for Callisthene to hear. But he did and he laughed.

I didn’t blame him. I was trying hard to find the humor in my situation, and, in a twisted way, I was beginning to. This had been one heck of a vacation so far. How many people do you know can honestly claim they were almost swallowed by the floor? Or that they were saved by a spear?

I glanced at Callisthene and blinked when I realized that somewhere along the lines, his horns had vanished. His hair fell to his waist in burgundy waves, threaded with strands of pink. The pointed tips of his ears emerged from his hair, giving him an elven appearance. The leafy design had claimed his entire torso, and vines were twining around his arms. His hands were thin, with two thick fingers and a thumb. Under any other circumstances, I would have found it disturbing. Just then, however, it was just Callisthene’s newest appearance.

We reached the end of the dining room and Callisthene paused. “How about we look before we blunder into this room?” he suggested.

“Would it make a difference one way or the other?” I asked, arching a brow.

He glared at me a moment before sighing. “Fine, point. Still, I’d like to have at least some idea what we’re diving into,” he grumbled.

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” I teased, grinning a bit.

“It left with my sense of fair play,” he retorted dryly. I bit back a laugh as he opened the door and peered inside. After a moment, he stepped in and held the door open for me.

As I limped in, I took in the newest in a long stream of rooms. Soft pink tiles covered the floor while slightly darker tiles covered the walls. A pale red, ornate sink rested against one wall, just below a lovely mirror rimmed with a rose design. Beside the sink was a matching toilet. Against the other wall, across from the sink and toilet, was an old, Victorian styled tub. It was a hot pink color, with gold roses stenciled onto it. There was no window or any other door.

Callisthene stepped in behind me and shut the door. He started to open it again, but the door was jammed shut. He scowled and tried to open it again. As he struggled with the door, I sighed and limped over to the toilet, putting down the lid and sitting. I was glad for the chance to rest, even if I knew it would be brief.

“Having a bit a trouble?” I asked, trying to keep my tone innocent.

He shot me a suspicious glance then sighed and moved to sit on the edge of the tub. “Give the place a chance to settle,” he decided. “Then, maybe, we can open the damn door.”

“A chance to settle?” I repeated.

“A chance to decide what hell to open into next,” he shrugged.

“So what do we do until then?” I immediately regretted asking as he grinned at me.

“Care to take a shower, Pet?” he asked with a suggestive glance toward the tub.

“So you’re using me to attract Ah-noon-whatsit,” I said instead of answering him. I hated to admit it, but I was tempted. For all that he was dangerous and wanted nothing more than to use me for his own personal gain, I was finding myself growing more and more attracted to him. Still, after the experiences I’d had, I was pretty darn good at suppressing that particular kind of attraction.

“Anunciacion,” Callisthene corrected automatically. He scowled, all teasing gone from his expression and posture. “Yes, I am.”

“What makes you think he’ll even know I’m here? Your chances of stumbling across him are as good without me as with,” I pointed out. “Not that I’m complaining. Without your help, I’d probably be long gone by now.”

“He knows you’re here,” Callisthene assured me, his tone dark.

“How?” I asked. That didn’t make sense to me. How could someone I had never met before know I was in the palace? My gaze flicked to his hand where the ring Andy had given me rested. “That’s his cell, isn’t it?”

Callisthene glanced down, following my gaze. He held up his hand and studied the ring, nodding. “I’d recognize it anywhere.”

“But Andy gave that to me,” I reminded the Immoral. “My ex-boyfriend gave me that ring. How could he have gotten his hands on an Immoral prison cell?”

“It’s not surprising. Sometimes the cells are tossed out in the human realm at random,” Callisthene shrugged.

“But that’s not what happened this time,” I guessed, watching Callisthene’s face. He was keeping something from me, big shock there. I didn’t really expect anything else, but something was telling me that this was something that I needed to know. Something that he was keeping from me not just because he didn’t feel I had a right to know, or he didn’t want to tell me. He was being very careful to be evasive about this.

“No way to know, really,” he shrugged. He stood and stretched a bit before going to try the door again. It was still jammed pretty tight. With a sigh, he moved to lean against the sink.

“But you do know,” I insisted, picking up on his desire to drop the subject, and ignoring it. “How could Andy have gotten his hands on an Immoral prison cell?”

“You know how things work, Pet,” he informed me, face blank. He really didn’t want to answer that question. “Give to get. That has nothing to do with the game, Immorals, or me personally.”

“Then what does it have to do with?” I demanded. I was getting a horrible feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. For once there was no doubt in my mind about whether or not I wanted the answer. This wasn’t even a matter of wanting. I needed to know. I needed to know how I had come to be wearing the ring that contained Callisthene’s brother.

“Don’t think about it,” he advised me. “Just concentrate on finding your brother and staying alive.”

“The best way to make sure that happens is to learn everything I can,” I told him, frowning. “What aren’t you telling me, Callisthene?”

“A lot,” he drawled, smirking at me. He was trying to get a rise out of me, trying to distract me from my current train of thought. The fact that he was trying so hard only made me all the more determined to find out what he was hiding.

“Mine,” I started.

“How long are you going to call me that?” he asked, interrupting me. “I don’t mind, really, just curious.”

“You can’t distract me,” I warned him. “I need to know…” I trailed off as I noticed a trickle of black trailing down the center of his back. “You’re bleeding.”

“You need to know I’m bleeding?” he repeated, baffled.

“No, you’re bleeding,” I told him, pushing to my feet. Resting my weight on my good leg, I grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer to me, turning him so I could see his back. I pushed aside his hair and stared at the small gash at the base of his neck. “How did you do that?”

Callisthene touched the back of his neck then frowned at the blood on his fingers. “I didn’t,” he told me. “I didn’t even notice it. Is it still bleeding?”

“Yes.”

“It shouldn’t be,” he muttered. “I should have healed by now.”

“When did you cut yourself?” I asked. “How did you cut yourself?”

“How the hell should I know?” he demanded, touching the back of his neck again. “I didn’t even realize I was bleeding.”

“Well, it’s not too bad,” I told him, trying to be reassuring. “I’m sure it’ll stop bleeding in a… oh, God.”

I stared as another gash, deeper this time, opened up on his upper arm. The skin parted and dark blood began pouring out as though someone had raked sharp claws across his arm, but there was no one, no thing, there to injure him. This time, he felt the cut and hissed in pain, grabbing his arm.

“Fuck,” he growled, looking around the bathroom, which was starting to seem much smaller. “Shit!”

“Mine, what’s going on?” I asked, trying to get him to hold still so I could see to his arm. He waved me away, still trying to find his invisible attacker.

I bit back a curse. This was certainly an appropriate time, but he was already cussing up a storm, I didn’t feel the need to add to it. I pushed past him and reached for the mirror, hoping there would be a medicine cabinet behind it, like there was in so many other bathrooms. Maybe, just maybe, there would be bandages and disinfectant in the cabinet that I could use to patch up Callisthene. I didn’t know how much blood he could stand to loose, but I was guessing he was starting to approach it.

My hand froze before it even reached the mirror. I stared at the reflections in the glass. I could see myself, as plain as day, and Callisthene’s side with the wounded arm. And behind me was… something.

It was vaguely human in appearance. It had two arms, I think, two legs and a head. It seemed as though it was made of mist, as though it wasn’t really there, just a bit of fog distorting the image on the surface of the mirror. Then it grinned at me, revealing two rows of very sharp, glittering teeth. There was no way those were just a bit of fog on the glass.

I spun around, staring behind me at where the creature had been. But it wasn’t there now. All I saw was the tub and the tiled wall. Nothing with vicious teeth or a misty body.

“Pet?” Callisthene asked, still trying to stanch the bleeding. I shook my head, convinced that nerves had me imaginging things.

When I turned back to the mirror, however, the creature was back, and this time standing beside me. It reached out one of its hands, which was tipped with glittering claws, and raked it down my arm, opening up the skin the same way it had cut Callisthene. I screamed at the pain that flared up and grabbed my arm.

“Damn it, Pet!” Callisthene growled, forgetting about his own arm and grabbing mine.

“It’s in the mirror,” I gasped, staring at the creature that was smirking at me. “It’s in the mirror!”

“What,” Callisthene started. He glanced toward the glass and did a double take. “Shit.”

“Yeah,” I agreed weakly. I yelped when the creature reached out its clawed hands for another go at me. Rather than giving it a chance to do anything, I grabbed Callisthene and yanked him down to the floor, falling with him.

He grunted as he hit the tiled floor hard, his breath rushing out in a sharp whoosh as I landed on top of him. I winced. “Sorry,” I muttered. “Sorry, sorry, sorry!”

“The damn thing’s in the mirror,” he growled, ignoring my apologizes. He glared up toward the sink that was blocking our view of the glass. “No fucking wonder the door wouldn’t open.”

“You think the castle trapped us in here with that… thing?” I asked, anger washing through me. In just a few hours, anger had become my primary reaction rather than fear. I wasn’t certain if that was a good thing or not, but I embraced it.

“Why not?” he growled. “The assholes watching probably thought it’d be fucking hilarious.”

“Great, just freaking great,” I muttered. “How do we get out?”

“Kill it,” Callisthene answered simply. “Nine times out of ten, if we kill the monster or destroy the trap in the room, they’ll open the door so we can go risk our lives somewhere else.”

“Kill the thing inside the mirror?” I clarified. “Kill the thing we can’t touch? Is that all?”

“Don’t yell at me, Pet,” he snapped. “I’m not the one who led us into this fucking room.”

“How do we kill it?” I demanded, ignoring the jibe at my sense of direction. This room would get us closer to Jett. I knew it would. If we survived.

“If I knew that, I would have done it already, Pet,” Callisthene informed me tightly.

We glared at each other for a few seconds before I realized something. “It hasn’t attacked us,” I pointed out.

Surprise and confusion replaced irritation on Callisthene’s face, which was starting to shift from a blue leafy design to golden shells. After a moment, he looked up toward the sink, which was still blocking our view of the mirror. And the mirror’s view of us. “It can’t get out of the glass,” he muttered.

“The first time it cut you, you were standing right in front of the mirror,” I reminded him, my eyes widening as I put the pieces together. “And then your arm because that was all that was reflecting. It didn’t touch me until I went to open it.”

“It couldn’t see you,” he finished, understanding filling his lightning streaked eyes. “You were in its blind spot.”

“Like we are now,” I added. “It can’t get out of the mirror, and it can’t touch anything not reflected in it.”

“Well that’s fucking perfect,” he snapped, his eyes narrowing. “We know how to avoid it, now how do we kill it?”

“We could shatter the mirror,” I suggested.

“And break it into a million little pieces that would reflect just about the entire room?” Callisthene arched a brow. “It could rip us to shred and we’d have no where to hide.”

“Flush it down the toilet?” I suggested.

“Too big.”

“After we break it into a million pieces.”

“And how do you expect to get all the pieces?” he demanded. I glared at him.

“How about helping out with the brainstorming rather than shooting everything down?” I snapped.

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to rein in his temper, I supposed. When he opened them again, I was half expecting them to have changed, the way the rest of his appearance kept shifting. But they remained the same as ever, still the same deep forest green with the three silver lighting blots streaking away from the pupil.

“If we can get it into the sink, we can smash it and then wash the pieces down the drain,” he said, gritting his teeth. I knew he wanted to snap again, but he was trying to be civil, which I greatly appreciated.

“Okay,” I nodded. “We have to do that without being reflected by it. So, how about I come up on the side closest to the door, and you take the other side. We stay as close to the wall as we can and try to take the mirror off without stepping in front of it.”

“Might not work,” he warned. “But we don’t have anything better so we’ll have to try it.”

I nodded and started to roll off him, but he caught me around the waist and held me pinned for a minute, studying me. I frowned at him. “Mine, let me go,” I ordered, trying to suppress the warmth that filled me as I realized I was laying on top of him. The look in his eyes was anything but innocent.

“He gave you the ring,” he told me, throwing me completely off balance.

“What?” I asked, baffled. Then my mind caught up with his and I realized what he was talking about. Or I thought I did. With no warning whatsoever, he had bounced back to the topic of the ring Andy had given me. “Why are you bringing this up now?”

“Because it’s very possible that, if we break the mirror, we’ll be letting that thing loose,” Callisthene informed me. Fine time to tell me that!

“I really, really hate this place,” I moaned. “Let’s just get this over with.”

I tried to roll off him again, and this time he let me go. Later I would ask him what he meant when he said “he” gave me the ring. I knew Andy had given me the blasted thing. I would probably even give him an earful for deciding to give me a distracting, cryptic comment right when we needed to focus. What was with guys and their really horrible sense of timing anyway?

Silently fuming, I crept to the wall closest to the door and watched as Callisthene shifted so that he was on the opposite side of the sink from me. I caught his gaze and counted down from three. Together we stood, both careful not to be reflected by the glass.

The mirror seemed pretty well attached to the cabinet behind it, but that didn’t seem to bother Callisthene. He took a hold of the top of the mirror and the bottom. Following his lead, I did the same.

“On three, pull as hard as you can,” he ordered. I nodded to let him know I understood.

“One,” I started.

“Two,” he added.

“Three.”

We both pulled against the mirror. Aft first, it didn’t budge, then with a groan, it popped off the wall. Callisthene was stronger than I was, and when the mirror came free of the wall, he stumbled a bit with the sudden lack of resistance. As he stumbled, the mirror tilted just a bit and I had enough time to see my own, wide eyed, pale face before the creature wrapped its sharp claws around my throat.

I could feel the razor sharp nails digging into my skin as it squeazed my windpipes shut. I couldn’t even get enough air in to scream. Out of reflex I let go of the mirror and my hands shot to my throat, trying to pry those phantom claws away enough to get in a gasp of air.

“Shit,” Callisthene growled. He shifted the weight of the mirror and all but threw it into the tub. It shattered upon contact and an ear splitting scream filled the small room. Air rushed into my lungs at the same time a misty form erupted from the shattered glass.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” Callisthene chanted softly, grabbing me around the waist. He pushed me toward the corner and kept me trapped there, shielding me from whatever had come out of the mirror.

I couldn’t do more than gasp as the screech continued to get louder, never pausing, never stopping. Then, without warning, silence fell. The only noise was the ringing in my ears, left over from that horrible sound. Neither one of us moved for a long moment.

“Mine?” I whispered when the ringing had died down. I had my eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to see what might have been left of the room. I could feel his body heat soaking into me, his arms around me. His heart was racing against my shoulder. At least I thought that was his heart. For all I knew, the Immorals were as different under the skin as they were outside.

“I think it’s gone,” he mumbled, his tone cautious. I risk a peek and saw him scanning the room quickly.

The bathroom looked just as it had before, though the mirror was now in shards in the tub and a few things had fallen out of the medicine cabinet. “We’re safe?” I realized just how ridiculous that question was and tacked on, “ish?”

“For the moment,” he nodded a bit. “Seems like it, anyway.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “I really hate this place,” I muttered, more to myself than him. I wanted to just collapse, to just give up for a few seconds but I couldn’t. For one thing, Callisthene was still bleeding.

I glanced toward the sink were bottles of disinfectant and bandages had tumbled out of the medicine cabinet. Wasn’t that just convenient? Everything we needed to see to our wounds, behind a vicious mirror monster that was more than willing to kill us. I was starting to wish we’d gone to Disney instead.

“Let me see to your arm,” I ordered him, pushing against his chest lightly. For a moment he didn’t move, then he took a step back and released me.

“You first,” he decided. “The thing got you too.”

“But I haven’t had as much time to bleed,” I countered. “You’re not going to win this argument. Sit down.”

He narrowed his eyes at me and, for a fleeting second, I thought he was going to argue anyway. Then he sighed and sat down on the toilet, shooting a cautious glance toward the tub. “Maybe we should smash it up and wash it down the drain, just in case.”

“You’re still bleeding,” I reminded him. Ignoring my own injuries, I gathered up everything I would need to tend to him. I was becoming accustomed to the pain and, after the initial shock, was getting better at ignoring it. Jett would have been so proud of me.

Callisthene watched the tub, just in case, while I cleaned and bandaged his arm. I checked the cut on the back of his neck, but it had already closed up. I suppose whatever the thing had done to keep him from healing instantly had worn off after it died. Or maybe we just freed it from its prison. I didn’t know. I hoped we hadn’t let a monster loose on the innocent public.

As soon as I tied off the end of the bandage on Callisthene’s arm, he all but forced me to take his place. He echoed my actions from just a few moments before and cleaned and bandaged my arm. Then, before I could stand or even think about suggesting to try the door again, he tilted my head back and began to tend to my neck.

“What did you mean, before?” I asked, watching him as he carefully cleaned the cuts on my throat. I knew that I was going to be bruised there if I wasn’t already. First Aapep tried to choke me to death then the mirror monster. I was starting to develop a complex.

“When?” he asked.

“When you said he gave me the ring,” I explained. Callisthene paused for a split second before resuming the cleaning.

“Anunciacion,” he answered, his voice soft and his expression clouded. I could see anger, betrayal and even smugness on his face, as well as a couple emotions I couldn’t place a name to.

“Your brother game me his ring,” I repeated, trying to make sure I understood what he was saying. He just popped out of his cell for a bit and left me a little gift?”

“He won the last Game, Pet,” Callisthene told me. A chill swept over me as he continued. “He betrayed me to one of our worst enemies so that he could scrape together a measly century of freedom. He must have arranged things so that you would be drawn into the game. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised. He gave you the ring so that you would be drawn in, even though you didn’t belong. As long as you were wearing it, his taint overlaid your soul, masking it and making it seem as though you were as dark as the rest of the humans.”

“But, how?” I asked. “I mean, we came because Cia won the tickets. Andy gave me the ring. I’ve never even laid eyes on anyone that looked anything like you or the other Immorals I’ve seen.”

“Mortal games are easy enough to rig,” Callisthene shrugged carelessly. He started winding a bandage around my neck. “This Cia is your friend?”

“She was my best friend,” I nodded.

“Then he probably knew that, if she received tickets, she would invite you,” he continued. “All he would need is to get you to the island. Once you were here, the rest would, more or less, be taken care of by the game masters. I know my brother. Once he laid eyes on you, he was determined to have you. Even if it meant risking loosing you in the Game. He was always a selfish bastard.”

“But why?” I couldn’t understand why anyone would go to such lengths just because of me. I mean, I knew Jett would do anything if it meant keeping me safe, just like I would do anything for him. No questions asked. But we were family, all we had. Why would some stranger drag three innocent people into this monstrosity of a game just to get at me?

“I told you before, Pet, you’re his type,” Callisthene answered. He tied off the end of the bandage and tucked my hair behind my ears. His fingers lingered a moment, but I didn’t really notice.

“Because I’m not ‘tainted,’” I muttered. I was starting to wish I was a little less of a “good” person. Jett was here because of me. “But wouldn’t he have made himself known to me or something? I mean, why wait until now?”

“He did,” Callisthene informed me. “We can look completely human if we wish. It isn’t that hard, though it’s a bitch to maintain. He was a part of your life for awhile, Pet. Working his way in, making you feel for him. If he’d had more time, he probably would have made you completely dependant on him emotionally and in every other way. And when you wouldn’t have been able to live without him, when you would have given him the same about of loyalty as you give your brother, he would have closed the trapped. He would have raped your soul until it was as dark as his own. You probably wouldn’t have survived the experience.”

“How… how do you know that? You haven’t seen him in a hundred years,” I breathed, fighting not to make the connection. Not to let the pieces click into place.

“I know because it’s what I would have done,” Callisthene shrugged. “It’s what we have done in the past. We used to have competitions to see who could taint a pure soul faster and more thoroughly. Anunciacion had always been impatient, choosing violence and fear as his weapons of choice.” A small, dark smirk curled his lips. “I always went for the more graceful methods. It was more fun to make the pure taint themselves, willingly.”

“Andy,” I whispered. “Oh God, Andy’s your brother?”

“If he’s the one that gave you the ring, then yes,” Callisthene nodded.

“Oh God,” I breathed, covering my mouth.

It was one thing to see that Andy was an abusive boyfriend, but to find out that he was Callisthene’s brother? That he had willingly, knowingly dragged me, Cia and Jett into this game, just so that he could finish playing with me? I wasn’t sure what to feel. I already hated him for what he had tried to do to me, what he had done to countless women before me. But now I knew that there really were countless women, as in too many to count. He’d been alive for so long and he’d done this so many times.

And I had cared for him! I would have fallen for his trap, if he hadn’t run out of time. With hundreds of years of experience under his belt, he would have had me helplessly devoted to him in no time. Doubtlessly the only reason it took so long for him to make the progress he did was because of Cia and Jett.

He must have realized that. He must have known that Cia and Jett were what was standing in his way. No wonder he’d tried to be friendly with Jett. No wonder he’d manipulated things so that it seemed like Cia had betrayed me.

I was furious. He had waltzed into my life, when things had been going as well as they ever did. He just barged in and started playing around. Started poking things, breaking things. For goodness’ sake, he had burned down one of my favorite jobs! He had killed a man that had been almost like a father to me. He had taken away everything until all I had left was Cia and Jett.

And now he was trying to take those away too.

“Why did you tell me?” I asked Callisthene, trying to force down the overwhelming emotions.

Callisthene knelt in front of me and placed his lips against my forehead. A momentary sense of dizziness washed through me, taking the edge off my fury. I was still angry, but I was a bit calmer. A touch more clear headed. A distant part of me realized what Callisthene must have done. In accordance with our deal, he had swallowed some of my strong emotions. In the process he had made it easier for me to think, to focus on what was happening.

When he pulled away, my anger was more manageable. I tucked it away for use latter, when it would benefit me the most. Like when I came face to face with Andy/Anunciacion with a knife in my hand. Or a diamond tipped spear.

I pushed these thoughts aside and focused on Callisthene. “Why did you tell me?” I repeated my question, latching on to the one thing that didn’t invoke negative emotions. Oddly enough, that one thing was Callisthene. Even thinking of Jett filled me with worry and guilt that I hadn’t realized what he had been going through. But thoughts of Callisthene just brought confusion and, disturbingly enough, a faint warmth.

He studied me for a moment, seeming as confused by my question as I was by his motives. After a hesitation, he answered, “I don’t know.”

Before I could fully process that thought, the clock chimed thirteen times. We had eleven hours left.