Bastian's Storm (Surviving Raine 2)

Get through the tournament first.

Franks moved off to chat with some of the other bosses. I sat back at one of the tables, tipped a couple of oysters down my throat, and watched the people around me. Some came up to talk to me, and I was as polite as I could manage. Eventually, they moved on to harass one of the other players. Hunter and Reaper had moved closer to one another, and though I couldn’t hear their words, their sexual chemistry was evident as they eyed each other. It was obvious they would spend the night together.

Stupid.

Then again,

it would be their last opportunity for a tryst. It made me think of last night and Raine’s body underneath mine, and I closed my eyes for a moment. The memory of her scent and the feel of her skin in my hands warmed me.

I would be with her again. I had to be. I wouldn’t let her down ever again.

I opened my eyes and continued to watch the crowd. After a while, Landon returned from wherever he had been.

“Heard something interesting,” he said as he sat beside me. He waved one of the servers over to our table and ordered another scotch.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Moretti and Arden talking,” Landon said. “Arden actually sounds a little concerned.”

“Huh,” I responded. “Even punching him in the face didn’t get a rise out of him.”

“Well, apparently the arctic mitts and gloves do get a rise out of him.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re fucking with his aim,” Landon said. “He was primarily concerned about equipment malfunction in the beginning. It’s possible for the primer in the rounds to have problems firing under extreme cold. What he hadn’t considered was how many layers you have to wear up here just to keep from getting instant frostbite. The thicker clothing is interfering with mounting his rifle to his shoulder. He has to keep adjusting his rifle to hit his target. His gloves or parka shift a little, and his aim is off again. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s a little pissed off about it.”

“You said that could happen.” I remembered his words during training when we had been going over all the supplies I would need.

“I did,” he said with a nod. “Arden didn’t think of it before they arrived up here yesterday. He must be living somewhere far north from the way he was talking, but not this far north.”

“No one lives up here.”

“Exactly,” Landon agreed. “He didn’t consider how much it might impact his accuracy.”

“That’s a point in my favor.”

“A big point.”

“Did you catch anything from any of the other players?”

“Dytalov is nervous,” Landon said. “He hasn’t done this for a while, and I can see how uneasy he is. Tyrone as well, though I think that’s because this is only his fourth tournament and all the others have been held indoors. He’s definitely uncomfortable in the cold.”

“I’m not worried about either of them,” I said dismissively. “I’m pretty sure I could kill them in my sleep.”

Landon agreed with a nod.

“I’m pretty sure Hunter and Reaper have been fucking each other,” he said. “That should provide some entertainment during the games.”

“Yeah, that’s inadvisable,” I said with a snort.

“You should know.”

“It never affected me.”

“It came close.” Landon leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his drink.

“You always said ‘close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades,’” I reminded him.