That meant I had died. Just like when Petra dropped me into the cave. One of my passengers was gone.
Leila.
The room closed in. If she was the one who sacrificed herself so I could live… my chest squeezed.
“Somebody tried to kill me.” I glared at Bruce. They did kill me!
My father’s body blocked the doorway, no wait—that was the hallway. I was in the bloody hallway. I looked to my right and to my left. Charred splinters of wood littered the long expanse of corridor. The floor was black. The blast had thrown me through the door and I’d landed in the corridor.
“I guess it’s started already,” he said, and then turned to someone at his side. “Squid, alert the Tribunal that there has been a breach of peace protocols within the Ludus confines. Assassination attempts aren’t supposed to start until after the trials. We will contain the incident for tonight; they are welcome to investigate tomorrow. But spread the word that Roo is unharmed. It will take a lot more than that to kill an Urser.”
He turned back and pulled me off the ground.
“On second thought,” he said over his shoulder. “Lincoln, get another outfit for her sent up. Send it to the guest room this time.”
He said the what now? Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought.
I squinted to see Lincoln standing behind Bruce, with his own scowl plastered on his angelic face.
Bruce checked his gold watch. “You now have twenty minutes to get ready. Use the guest room, it has an adjoining bathroom. Your clothes will be waiting on the bed when you get out of the shower.”
I stuttered, trying to work out my surprise in some shape or form but I failed utterly.
Bruce’s eyebrow lifted on one side. “What are you waiting for?”
“But… I was just…”
“You’re unhurt, are you not?”
I looked down at myself. Pale fresh skin showed through various holes in my shredded clothing. “I almost died. My mistake to think my life was more important than your dinner.”
My words blew red rage into his features. He jabbed his finger in the air at me. “Let’s get this straight. I own that body. I made it, so it belongs to me. So, yes, I’m damn pissed off that someone tried to kill you, especially when I’ve been using that vessel to secure strategic alliances. I have more deals to make to ensure the future of my line, and while you are here, under my roof, you’ll live by my laws. If this happened on my home planet, you wouldn’t have survived. You’re lucky we live in this weak, pathetic world where assassination attempts are half-assed. Get up, get dressed, and get to dinner.”
Half-assed assassination attempt? I shuddered to think what his home planet was like. The look of surprise on my face must have satisfied him because he ended his lecture there. He did a one-eighty and left me speechless.
I was beginning to think Cash’s opinion of him was underrated.
With nothing else to do, I opened door number creamy, realizing I’d died twice in a matter of months. At this rate, my life would end in another two.
Chapter 7
A fog of confusion shrouded my mind for the duration of my hot shower. Afterwards, I dried my hair with a towel and scrubbed my scalp, hoping to return some semblance of brain activity before I had to face the scrutiny of mysterious dinner guests. I was so tired. Exhaustion lapped at the edges of my consciousness. That bombing had used up energy reserves.
When I left the bathroom, true to my father’s word, a dress bag lay on the bed and a pair of shiny heels were on the floor. I held up the dress bag and unzipped it.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
A formal, floor-length, navy blue dress spilled out. Made of something thick, shiny and stretchy, the bust gathered upwards to strap over one shoulder. I pulled the tag out from its hiding place.
Designer made.
Kitty would love it. A sudden ache overcame me. I missed my friends, Alvin and Kitty. The urge to call them was overwhelming. When I’d left Margaret River, Alvin had asked Kitty to marry him, and she’d said yes. One of the last memories I had of the two was them canoodling behind a hospital curtain. In two months, I was due back there for the wedding of the century. A smile lifted my mood, only for a moment, because with that recognition of their happiness came the inevitability I would never have it. The Game would see to that.
I scowled the entire time I donned the dress, slipped on the shoes and placed the dangly diamond earrings in my ears. I appraised myself in the bathroom mirror. The longer I stared, the more I got caught in the gaze of my reflection, like a deer in the headlights. There was something behind my honey brown irises I didn’t like. A flicker of life not mine. It made me shiver.
Shaking the feeling off, I broke my reflection’s hold over myself and gave my body the once over. The dress wasn’t so bad. From the way it gathered and folded, I almost looked like a red-headed, roman goddess.
Water dripped from my hair onto my skin. Well, if there’s any benefit to having the same abilities as a witch, it’s saving money on trips to the salon. Kitty would be so proud of me. I filled my fingers to the brim with searing energy and ran them through my hair. Wisps of steam lifted as I brushed every hair on my head until it dried, dead straight.
“C’mon, Roo. Game face on,” I said to myself. “What would Prince do?” I had no idea what he’d do. I’d never met the artist. I used to ask myself that question all the time and randomly picked a song on my MP3 player, hoping the title would give me the magic answer.
A childish game compared to the one I was now in.
A knock at the door snapped me back to attention and I went to open it.
“Damn, sis, if we weren’t related…” Lincoln’s voice trailed off as he looked me up and down and pulled at his shirt collar with a finger. His slicked back hair and tuxedo made him surprisingly dashing. Although on closer inspection…
“Your jacket is inside out,” I said.
He smirked.
“Won’t Bruce be pissed?”
His smirk widened to a grin, then a serious expression stole across his face. “Speaking of the devil, he’ll be going out after the dinner. I’m having a few people—uh, hi, Dad. Didn’t see you there.”
Bruce waltzed up behind Lincoln. “The guests are here. Let’s make this snappy. I have an appointment later.”
That was music to my ears. Sleep tugged at my seams and hunger prowled in my stomach. I couldn’t wait to eat up and then hit the sack. Start the day fresh.
My father frowned at Lincoln’s attire and lifted his brow at his son, but when Lincoln shrugged, Bruce gave up and turned away.
Lincoln caught my surprise. “Get used to it, sis. I need some form of entertainment. This dinner is only the first of many.”
Dinner passed surprisingly without a hitch. Apart from the two hours of boring talk that barely kept me awake, let alone sitting upright in my seat, there was little intelligence gathered for our cause against my father. Zero talk about anything to do with serums or labs.
An older woman, similar in age and aura to my father, and two young men were our guests. All three of them had a bull’s head embroidered onto the collar of their white shirts. If I hadn’t been so exhausted, I might have been interested in the way both men filled out their tuxedos. The jacket fabric stretched around their biceps, and the collar was snug around their thick, manly necks. I might even have been interested in how my father spoke privately with the woman the entire night. But I was exhausted, and grateful when they all stood up to leave shortly after dessert. My father followed them out without a backwards glance at us. When I turned back to the table, I realized Lincoln had already left.
Right. Strange family.
I made my way down the hall to Lincoln’s room, dodging some wooden debris still on the floor. My timid rap on his door barely left a sensation on my knuckles, but he heard the request and opened.
“S’up sis.”
“Hi. Listen, I have no clothes. You know, the bomb. Can I please borrow
shorts and a T-shirt for bed?”
“Yeah, for sure.” He tapped his chin and looked me over with narrowed eyes. “So you weren’t going to stay and hang out when my mates come over?”
I frowned. “No. Thank you but, no. I’m too old for that, besides I have a lot of studying to do. I should read something. Don’t you have some to do as well?”
He snorted. “As if, sis, just look at me.” He waved his hands up and down his body. “I’m not the epitome of the god of war now, am I? I got nothing but a short assed body and no powers and have already failed in his eyes. I don’t even know why I’m bothering. Rather be spending my last free days on this planet partaying if you know what I mean.” He wiggled his brows at me and bounced with excitement. “The offer is still open. I got some ladies coming, some blow—not that you’d be interested in the ladies, unless I’m missing something?” He checked my response from over his shoulder as he walked further into his room. I shook my head. “No? Thought so, there’s a couple of dudes coming too, so…”
I stopped listening to his banter and rewound his words until I caught on something.
God-of-freaking-war.
Who has no powers, and, and—my mind stuttered to a halt as I became distracted by the decor in his room. Horse crazy. Like, seriously. Pictures on the walls, statues and figurines on the shelves, books littered around. Even his fake window looked out onto a sunny paddock with stallions galloping around under the blue sky. In the corner, just peeking over the cover of his bed was an old rocking horse, chipped and worn, threaded mane tattered. Weird.
“How long have you been here?” I asked him, chewing on my nails so he couldn’t see the pity in my expression.
“Dunno, somewhere between ten years and my whole life.” Lincoln placed his scrunched up clothing bundle in my hands and moved to collect folders off a table, first swiping off a layer of dust. He added the folders to my load. “Seeing as you’re so insistent you study, here’s some theory to get you started.”
“Thanks. You mean you’ve never been outside?”
“Nah, I’ve been out. Once or twice. It’s like I said, I got nothing to protect myself except my mouth. Players aren’t meant to kill each other until after the trials, but accidents happen. Daddy dearest didn’t want to risk another royal mistake. In the end that’s what he got because I’m a dud.”
Jeez. I felt bad about my childhood, but his was worse. I could’ve spent my entire life underground but instead I got a father who at least pretended parental responsibilities on occasion.
“So,” I continued. “If I need to study more for these trials, where would I go?”
“Dunno. Maybe the depository?”
I had no idea what that was. “And what if I wanted to see my mentor? Would there be anywhere in particular his quarters might be?”
He shrugged.
“Do you have a map?”
He gave me a weird look.
“Okay, guess not.”
A shuffling sound behind alerted me to company. I turned around to find the grinning faces of two young males, baseball caps crooked, shirts inside out. Despite their appearance, it was clear they had money. Each wore a diamond stud in the ear, gold chains and designer sneakers. The waft of musky cologne was so strong I wanted to gag.
“S’up Drew. S’up Crank.” Lincoln squeezed past me to get to his friends in the hallway.
Both looked like carbon copies of Lincoln except with shorter hair. They could be twins, or brothers at least. One with his hat on backwards bobbed up and down and snickered over my shoulder to Lincoln in a strained voice. “Ah bro, you was right, she’s hella tight.” He bit his knuckles, and made the most obvious charade of inspecting me up and down, including lewd sound effects showing his pleasure.
“And that’s my cue to leave.” I widened my eyes at Lincoln. “Thank you for your help. I’ll let you get back to your boy band.”
I scurried back to the guest room to dump my package on the bed. I exchanged my dress for the plain black shirt and cotton jogging shorts I’d borrowed, then flopped onto the bed next to the files totally intending to read them, but sleep stole my vision, clouding everything up. I almost thought Marc had been here, pulling his sleep trick on me.
My brain meandered between the worlds of the living and the dead for a few moments until a deep rhythmic bass thumped through the walls. Great. Just great. How was I meant to go to sleep with this racket on?
After twenty minutes of ear tingling noise, I swallowed a frustrated screamed, got off the bed, opened the door, and slammed it behind me.
The second I stomped into the living area with fists balled at my side, I regretted it.
Two girls, or women—it was hard to tell the age of the demi-god race—lifted their heads to look at me. One had snorted a line of white powder off the glass coffee table and had red rimmed nostrils. Her mascara ran from her watering eyes and strands of her dull hair caught in the black pigment, streaking it across her face. The other woman sat on the couch with Lincoln’s arm around her. Drew and Crank stood behind the couch inspecting music on the digital player that filtered through the house speakers. They all looked up and lifted their drinks in a cheers. “Eeeyy.”
I blanched, pivoted, and returned to my room. The door slammed behind me and I rested my back on the cool smooth surface of the wood then lowered my face into my hands. I was officially in hell.
Chapter 8
“Roo.” My whole, dark world shook, and I disapproved.
I scrunched up my face into my pillow and willed the voice away.
“Wake up Roo, he’s on his way.”
More shaking. It wasn’t fair. The world shouldn’t be shaking.
“Roo. Oi. Sis!”
I peeled open one eye and found the panic-stricken face of my brother. He didn’t look like a demi-god with extraordinary healing. His eye’s had dark circles and bags under them, his skin was sallow and his golden curls stuck together in matted clumps. He wore white boxer shorts and no shirt, revealing dark purple and blue clouded swirls painted over his entire torso and arm, a testament to his own territorial influence back at the Empire.
“Bro, you need more sleep. You don’t look so good.”
“Bullshit, I’ve had more sleep than you. You only went to bed an hour ago.”
“Ah, no. I don’t think so. I went to bed around midnight.”
“Uh, uh.” He stood back with his arms crossed and grimaced. “Don’t you dare think you can get away without cleaning up when you made half the mess. We were having a nice quiet X-Box tournament until you showed up and demanded we play ‘Flip, Sip or Strip’.”
“Say what?” I pulled the blankets up to my chin. I didn’t remember anything.
Lincoln shook his head. “Regardless of the shenanigans you got us into last night, we need to move. You have to follow me to my training session, remember? It takes about five minutes to walk there and we have to be there in ten. So I’d get going if I were you. We can’t be late.”
He left the room.
I was just about to ask what clothes I should wear when my mouth snapped shut before a syllable could get out. Strewn all over the floor was a variety of clothing items ranging from lacy underwear to a black leather jacket. Everything looked tried on. Almost like someone had a slumber party in my room and invited all their girlfriends.
Uneasiness dropped in my stomach like a sinking stone. I didn’t remember putting those clothes there and, on closer inspection, they were all my size. I picked up blue jeans—my size. Flowery sun dress—my size. Fluorescent joggers—my size. I retraced my steps before I went to bed, but nothing came to mind.
With nerves jangling, I rifled around until I found a decent enough outfit: jeans, a T-shirt that said “I Speak Fluent 90s Rap”, and the joggers. I ran my fingers through my unruly hair, tied it into a loose bun, and then checked myself in the mirror over the dresser when I caught sight of a note stuck to the glass. The blue scrawl across the white paper was recognizable handwriting. My hea
rt leapt.
“I’m sorry, I tried to stop them. Leila.” I read the message aloud as I plucked the paper from its place between the glass and the frame. “Stop who? What the hell?”
But, I had a feeling I knew and ignored it. The logical explanation was that Lincoln had lied. I did not spend the night with him and his friends. I peered into my reflection’s pinched eyes. The girl looking back at me seemed distant, foreign, like the memory of a person I’d forgotten. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. A feeling, that’s all it was. A feeling. Like hairs standing on edge on the back of my neck.
Perhaps I’d had a bad dream.
A pounding on the door snapped me to attention. I joined my brother in the hallway. Walking through the trashed apartment, I noticed he’d done a number on the place. I could see why he was so keen for a little help to clean it up.
“You start over there. I’ll start over here.” Lincoln made to move, but the front door opened. He gaped at me. “Shit. No time.”
It was Squid. Apparently, he’d been there all night, guarding the door on the outside. Seeing as he had no troubles letting people in, I guessed he was placed there to keep me from leaving.
The apartment was a mess. The thought that I’d slept through it without so much of a stir didn’t sit right with me.
Then there was Leila’s note.
Squid ushered us out of the apartment and into the hallway. Lincoln dragged through the opulent corridors, rubbing his eyes. Coupled with his matted hair, his inside-out shirt seemed haphazard, like a homeless person, not really packing the recalcitrant punch it had before.
After a few minutes, we stopped in front of a series of elevators. Squid punched the down button and returned to me with his hands behind his back. He stared vacantly into the air.
Slipping away would be hard with him around.
But I needed to see the library—or depository—or whatever it was called. A place like that must have a great one. It should have the answers I needed about my passengers.
The Game of Gods: Series Box Set Page 51