Now it’s just a few days after celebrations for the New Year. Too long, really, between visits from my honorary undead older brother. Normally he sneaks me in to see someone else’s match at the Arena at least once a month.

I mock-frown. “I’ve missed you, Walker.”

My heart thumps sadly. I miss Lincoln, too. I haven’t heard a word from him since the winter tournament two weeks ago. It’s really bumming me out that I was some kind of one-kiss-stand for him. Nightshade’s now a permanent resident at the Ryder stables; I take her out for regular jaunts near the thrax compound. Each time, I hope to run into a particular someone, but no such luck. I’m too proud to do more than that.

I let out a low sigh. Okay, I’m actually not too proud to do more than that, but the thrax have their little campground on some kind of mega lock-down these days.

Walker sizes me up carefully. “I’ve missed you as well.” He rubs his long sideburns. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

I flip off my covers and set my toes on the chilly floor. “Why’s that?”

“You’re the greatest warrior in Antrum.”

“Oh, yeah.” I step over to my dresser, open the top drawer and pull out my golden breastplate. “Queen Octavia hooked me up with armor and a spot in the tournament.” I set the breastplate over my gray nightgown and model it for Walker. “I took out an Arachnoid in this thing.”

Walker grins. “I wish I could have seen it.”

I wink. “Perhaps another time.” I carefully set the breastplate back into my drawer. “So, who am I fighting today?”

Walker lowers his voice. “I have a surprise for you. We’re actually seeing an iconigration.”

I clasp my hands. “No. Way.” Iconigrations are when the Scala moves multiple souls to Heaven or Hell at once. I’ve only seen these a few times. Mega cool.

“Oh, I found a way.” He sets one finger over his mouth in a ‘shh’ face. “Just don’t tell your mother what we’re up to.”

I mime zipping my mouth shut. “Got it.” Mom freaks out when I do anything different. I have a feeling an iconigration would send her through the roof.

“See you in a bit.” Walker steps out my bedroom door, careful to close it behind him.

I shower, change into my fighting suit, and walk into the kitchen, a smarmy smile on my face. Iconigrations are the best.

Mom sits at the table, holding a mug of steaming coffee. She takes one look at me and frowns. “What’s going on, Myla?”

I put on my best ‘innocent face’: eyes wide and blinking like mad. “Walker’s taking me to the Arena for another death-match. You know, the usual.” A pile of Demon bars sit on the counter. I grab one and dive in.