Starfall (Starflight #2)(90)

“Perfect.” She stood up slowly, favoring her shoulder. “While I look for a med-kit, I need you to bring me that ship. I’ll meet you outside in ten minutes.”





Kane awoke by layers, one slow sense at a time.

At first there was a vague awareness, the confusion of sliding out of dreams. Then came light. The brilliance pierced his closed eyelids, seeming to come from all around. No matter which way he turned his head, he couldn’t escape it. With that motion came pain. His neck burned from the inside out, and as he stirred in bed, he found his muscles stiff and slow to respond. Finally, as he came around, he heard the sounds of angry male voices, slightly muffled by distance.

“…not worth the risk,” said one man. “He’s already gone off twice.”

“That’s my fault,” argued another voice Kane recognized as his boss. “I gave him too much. He built up a resistance, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” repeated the first man. “There’s nothing stronger to give him! If he’s grown tolerant to the Gold, then we might as well—”

A closer voice said, “Hey, kid,” and Kane opened his eyes to find Cutter sitting on the edge of the bed.

Right away, he noticed they weren’t in the dorm. This bed was tall with no upper bunk, situated in a bright, white-walled room. One of Cutter’s massive arms was pinned to his chest by a sling, and two of the fingers on that same hand were paler than the rest. Judging by the scarlet line below the knuckles, it looked like they’d been reattached recently.

Because they had.

All of Kane’s memories washed over him in a rush. “You’re alive,” he croaked in a dry throat. And so am I.

“Thanks to you,” Cutter said. It sounded like an accusation.

“I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Not wanting to kill me is nothing to be sorry for.” He pointed at Kane’s throat. “By the way, you should’ve waited until the Redshirts were off the stage. Then you might’ve bled out before they treated you.”

Kane tried to touch his neck, but both of his wrists were bound by his sides. “How long’s it been?”

“A few days, maybe? I was out, too, so it’s hard to say.” Cutter glanced through the open window, barred from the outside. “They’re sending me back to the dorm today. I don’t think they’ll make me fight tonight, though.”

Kane didn’t want to talk about the pit, so he changed the subject. “I see you have your fingers back.”

“Yeah,” Cutter said, tipping his head as if to admire them. “It’s a halfway decent patch job. But I’ll probably lose them in the next game, so I’m not getting attached.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Get it? Attached?”

The bad joke prompted Kane to study Cutter’s pupils, which were wide enough to reveal how much Gold the medics had given him. He recalled the conversation he’d overheard about building up a resistance to the drug. What would happen when the inhalers didn’t work on him anymore? How would he compete without the rush?

The door opened, and his boss walked inside. He jerked his head toward the hallway and told Cutter, “Back to the dorm.”

Cutter patted one of Kane’s legs through the blanket. “See you around, kid.”

After he left and shut the door behind him, the boss gripped both hips and watched Kane as if he didn’t know what to do with him.

“How much trouble am I in?” Kane asked.

His boss laughed without humor. “Almost as much as I’m in.” He rubbed the back of his thick, beefy neck. “We really mucked up opening night for the casino.”

“But I forfeited.”

“That’s not how it works. The last man alive is the champion. When you didn’t finish Cutter, you threw a wrench in the system. Then I made it worse by interfering”—he pointed at Kane’s neck—“and telling my men to seal off that wound. Now there’s no clear winner, so the casino had to freeze the payouts while they decide how to break the tie.”

“Cutter should be the winner.”

“That’s what some people think. Everyone else says it should be you, since Cutter was half-dead already. Either way, it makes Zhang look like he can’t handle his business. That’s bad for both of us. He’s not the most forgiving guy.”

A chill gripped Kane’s stomach. If Ari Zhang had sold Renny’s girlfriend into slavery as punishment for a picked pocket, what would he do to someone who’d humiliated him in front of an arena full of spectators? Could the mafia track down Cassia or his mom and make them pay for what he’d done?

His boss gave a sarcastic huff. “The only reason you’re alive is because, for some ass-backward reason, the guests are still crazy about you. That stunt you pulled made you look even nuttier than when you attacked Nicky Malone. No one will shut up about it.”

Based on that, Kane knew how the casino would break the tie. “They want a rematch.”

His boss didn’t say yes, but he didn’t deny it, either. “Listen, I hate to do this to you, but I have to let you dry out. The Gold won’t work until we lower your resistance, so as of today, you’re cut off.” His gaze moved to the floor. “I won’t lie, kid. This is gonna hurt. The medic wants to keep you here so he can monitor your heart and restart it if it stops.”