A Game Most Dangerous (2 page)

"Oh, cool," Rain said, a frisson of alarm shooting up his spine. "Glad you got it back." Stupid Brandon and his stupid serial killer stories. "Whatcha planning to do with it, now it's in the family again?"

Zaroff opened a door and then paused. "I come from a long line of hunters, and my great grandfather was the greatest hunter in the world. I plan to continue his legacy by turning this island into the greatest private hunting resort in the world. Only the truest hunters will be permitted." His proud, congenial smile turned a little too toothy for Rain's liking. "Of course, excellent hunters must be met by excellent prey. Come, dinner awaits."

Dinner was starting to feel a lot like a last meal, but Rain followed him into what proved to be an ostentatious dining room where three men sat conversing quietly, all of them dressed like Zaroff in pseudo-military gear. Hunting gear was probably the more accurate term. Ugh, Rain hoped this wasn't all going where he thought because that was going to be supremely annoying.

The men glanced at him, something hungry and eager in their faces for a moment, then looked away and resumed their conversation. Rain was all for being ignored, especially as he was a bit busy being distracted by all the heads mounted on the wall. Most were animals, but a few were human. Damn it, this was going to be exactly what he'd thought.

Zaroff sat at the head of the table and motioned to the empty seat to his immediate right. "Have a seat, dear boy. I've shipped in some of the finest cooks in the world. They're as elite as my fellow huntsmen here. Only the best for the best."

'Best' wasn't the word Rain would have used, but he said nothing, just obediently went to the seat Zaroff indicated and settled in. The food did smell amazing as it came out of the kitchen on the arms of men in smart-looking blue uniforms that looked as old school as the house. God, Zaroff was like some B movie horror flick come to life. Except actually creepy alongside the lameness.

Rain thanked the man who set a plate in front of him—and his fingers faltered for the barest minute when he saw the slender but thick and heavy bracelet on the man's wrist. The kind that someone else only wore when forced, the kind that he'd bet only Zaroff could remove and would go boom if tampered with. Not the kind of thing used by most people, so how had Zaroff come by them?

The servant slipped away and fell into line with the others. Rain eyed them briefly in passing, but that was all he needed to confirm they
all
wore the bracelets. Zaroff had turned them into
slaves.
Rain's discomfort turned into anger, but his mother's voice soothed from the back of his mind.
You are strong, smart, and capable. Control your temper. Do not let it control you. Be the flamethrower not the wildfire, sweetie.

"This is the best burger I've ever had, dude," he said, and it was, but he also didn't want to know what kind of meat it was made from. He wouldn't put it past Zaroff to be serving him human, though the taste was too familiar to be human. Rain made himself eat every bite and tried to think happy thoughts of sprawling on his bed with Whitney and eating ice cream after highly improbable amounts of sex.

As the food was cleared away and the other men left, leaving him and Zaroff alone, Rain gave serious consideration to drastic action. He'd nearly decided to do so when Ivan appeared, huge and hairy and with eyes full of sadness—but also hope as they skittered over Rain for the barest moment.

There was a boom bracelet on his wrist, too—as well as a small tattoo on the inside of his wrist, just above the bracelet. A tattoo of a bear with a crescent moon behind it. That sealed the matter. He'd have to stay. Rain didn't glance at Ivan, as much as he wanted to, instead fiddling with the truly awesome coffee a servant had brought.

When Ivan and Zaroff had finished their silent, hand-spoken conversation about the supplies Ivan should fetch, Zaroff said, "I assume by now you have put two and two together and deduced your fate? I thought you should be thrown back, but Vanya assures me you are a more interesting bit of game than you appear." His face fell briefly as he added, "Not quite the kind of game I keep hoping for, the kind I've heard whispers about." He brightened slightly. "Nevertheless I am promised you'll be suitably entertaining."

"I've never lost at hide and go seek, it's true," Rain replied. "My family is very good at hiding and escaping and sneaking around. Something of a tradition." Rain smiled and shrugged. "We don't like people taking our stuff, and we have a lot of stuff that people want to take. Like, you know, our ability to breathe and all that."

Zaroff laughed. "Well, if you want to keep breathing, I suggest you make good sport. You'll be given a knife and enough food to last three days." He laughed again, something mean in it this time. "Not that any of them last three days. Vanya has an eye for excellent game, but the only one to nearly succeed was a robust woman who lasted precisely forty-nine and a half hours. Had to use the hunting dogs to get her."

"You know that 'serial killer' isn't the kind of thing that should become family tradition, right?" Rain replied.

Rage flickered like distant lightning in Zaroff's eyes. He pulled out a shiny cigarette case, selected a cigarette, and lit it with a lighter that looked nearly as old as the house. Rain wrinkled his nose at the smell but said nothing. "I'm no serial killer, and neither were the rest of my family. We are esteemed gentlemen who happen to excel at the hunt to the point there is a dearth of worthy prey. We cannot help it the only game dangerous enough to satisfy our needs are other men. Nor is it my fault they never prove superior." Something gleamed in his eyes. "Of course, I've heard rumors of even better hunts, and keep hoping I'll succeed in bringing such beasts to my island someday… but my every attempt has thus far failed. Sometimes I start to think I was lied to. It's hard sometimes to know which rumors are truth and which are madness."

"Oh, madness becomes apparent pretty quickly," Rain replied—and grunted when that got him backhanded.

"My apologies," Zaroff said stiffly. "I should not have let my temper get the better of me, but I do hate to be so unfairly judged. You don't know what it's like to hunger for a challenge, the joy that comes from being relieved of your boredom for just a few hours."

"I know a few things about boredom," Rain replied. "You should sit through Philosophy 101, or listen to my friend Josh talk about his tropical fish for the third time in one day."

Zaroff gave another laugh. "Ah, to be young again. But I think that's enough conversation. You will need to get started if you hope to last more than a few hours."

Rain shrugged and stood with Zaroff. "So I get a knife and food and… just wander around the island?" They weren't even going to give him clothes or shoes? All he had was his swimtrunks. Well, maybe that would make it more interesting somehow.

"Yes, precisely, though I strongly advise you try to be a bit creative in your wandering. So many simply cut a straight course or try to make for the water. If you behave in such a dull and predictable manner you will die very quickly." He clapped Rain on the shoulder, so much like Brandon and the other guys did that Rain barely restrained an urge to punch him. "After the sun sets, my men and I will begin the hunt."

"One against four doesn't seem very sporting."

"It's a competition, much more interesting that way."

"For you," Rain retorted.

"Be clever, my boy, be clever! And we no longer allow the use of guns, you know. Guns end things so quickly. Much more of a challenge to fight with only blades, though sometimes we've had to resort to bows."

Rain walked with Zaroff back through the house until they reached the front, where Ivan appeared with a worn out knapsack filled with food and a sheathed knife attached to a sturdy leather belt. Zaroff clapped him on the back again. "You have until sunset to make yourself hard to catch. I'm assured you will be interesting prey, so don't disappoint, else I shall have to punish Vanya for lying to me."

Rain looked at Zaroff, then Ivan, then back at Zaroff. He shrugged. "Sure, General. Do my best."

"Well, you're so calm and haven't done any of that trite pleading or threatening, so I've hope for you. Good luck! If you manage to survive, we will, of course, take you home."

"That would be nice. See you later, then," Rain replied and shrugged the backpack on as he walked off into the trees.

He ditched the knife in a pond because he had way, way better to work with if it became necessary. After a couple of hours of wandering, he finally sat on a large boulder and opened the bag. Boring, boring, boring. It was the kind of crap Jamie insisted on eating when he dragged everyone along on one of his charity hiking trips.

Munching resentfully on a granola bar that tasted like sawdust and old socks, he ditched the bag and the rest of the crap food in it. When he got really hungry, he'd just go back to the stupid mansion that time tried to forget.

At least he'd shaved his head before this trip, though he wouldn't have minded a hat. Ah, well.

He wandered aimlessly around the island, poking and prodding, occasionally staring out at the sea and daydreaming about being on a yacht, just him and Whitney and a never-ending pile of comic books. And copies of that dumb fantasy show Whitney watched just because he knew it offended Rain.

Eventually he started yawning practically non-stop, and he gave up wandering in favor of climbing up to the highest sturdy branch of an enormous tree.

Greatest hunters in the world, huh? Oh, he wished he could tell them how laughably wrong they were. Rain started the timer on his fancy, waterproof watch and settled back to watch the ocean until it grew too dark to see. He switched to stargazing through the gaps in the leaves.

After two hours and eleven minutes, he finally heard some noise. They were awfully loud for people who were supposed to be good at this. Maybe it was just what Whitney called his unreasonable standards. He looked down, but it was another hour before the people making the noise finally showed up: Zaroff and Ivan.

Zaroff examined every bit of dirt and every leaf, looked up, down, and all-around, but eventually shook his head and resumed moving.

Rain shrugged and waited, but no one else came close to finding his hiding spot.

In the morning, he washed up in a pond that smelled of clean water then resumed wandering.

Eventually he heard someone tromping around nearby, could hear the man muttering. Rain found a large tree and just for the amusement, he crawled down to hide in the enormous roots. But much like Zaroff the night before, the man came close but never found him, instead carrying on as though he thought he was on a trail, even though Rain was way too lazy to go to that much effort.

He spent most of the day following the hunters around, ducking out of sight occasionally but mostly never having to bother. If anything gave him away, it would be the moment he finally started laughing at them.

Eventually he decided it was time for a nap and returned to a little cave he'd seen earlier in the day. By the time he woke up, evening was falling and everything was growing quiet. He crept through the trees, but could not hear any sign of the hunters. Maybe they'd gone in for dinner.

Keeping ear and nose out, he explored more of the island. His interest was almost piqued when he came across quicksand. Looked like the whole southeast corner of the island was swampland, or at least most of it was. Man, his cousins would have loved it.

He trekked carefully through the treacherous muck until he found a nice tree for his second night, then went to see about food since he was too far out for it to be worth it to trek all the way back to the creepy house.

He'd just gathered a few fish from a pond when he heard the dog. Gathering the fish together in a large leaf, he crept off into the trees and quickly climbed one. Several minutes later, the dog burst into the clearing. It sniffed around, nose to the ground, and went right up to the tree and looked up.

Rain bared his teeth and the dog whined. "Shh, good girl," Rain replied and threw down a fish. The dog wolfed it down quickly, then cried tentatively at him. He threw down the other two fish, and the dog wolfed them down even faster than she had the first one. She panted at him, lifted up to rest her front paws against the tree briefly, then ran off across the way and vanished into the scrub, barking loudly.

A few minutes later, Zaroff and his buddies came through, and Rain was disappointed they'd thought to put on face paint. They all had such fair skin, he'd wanted to see if any of them glowed in the dark. They muttered to each other, something about having been certain 'the game' must be this way, and gave the clearing a thorough sweep. Their eyes passed right over him, no surprise there, given their less than stellar eyesight and the fact Rain didn't need makeup to blend into the dark.

They moved on, and after the sounds had long since faded, Rain caught some more fish and headed back to his tree to enjoy dinner.

He woke the next morning to the sound of an entire pack of dogs and more people. Must have dragged out Ivan and the other servants to lead the dogs. Well, whatever, he'd been getting bored anyway, and the poor prisoners probably would like their freedom.

Rain yawned and leaped neatly down from his tree, stretched languorously and then went in search of breakfast. He'd just finished eating a boring handful of berries and nuts when the dogs showed up. Rain stared
hard
and with panicked yips and whines, the dogs ran away.

Poor puppies. Hopefully they'd calm down once they were well away from him. Rain shoved the last of the berries in his mouth then stripped off his swimtrunks.

As the dumbass hunters came into the clearing, he grinned. "Hi. Game's over."

"What—" Zaroff started, but the words died with a terrified squeak as Rain transformed.

He roared as he settled fully into his dragon form, enjoying the way the sunlight warmed his gleaming black scales. He flicked his tongue out and tasted the air. All of the hunters and a handful of the servants had pissed themselves.