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The Game of Gods: Series Box Set

Page 71

by Lana Pecherczyk


  A few minutes later, Marc reappeared, dressed in an extraordinary white tuxedo, cut in long, sharp lines that accentuated the incredible body he loved to flaunt. The fabric appeared real and three-dimensional. Might be, too. This was a special occasion after all. When I finished admiring his outfit, I lifted my gaze to discover he did the same. His misted eyes caught on my dress and his mouth parted.

  “Close your mouth before you catch flies,” I snapped.

  “I’m sensing a bit of tension. Shall I say your true name? It might loosen you up. You can say mine if you like.”

  “Shut up, Marc,” I said with a smirk.

  “Love.” One word came out of his mouth. It was loaded with so much emotion it scared me. My fingers twisted into knots.

  Marc gathered himself, cleared his throat and fixed his mask to his face. It was the top half of a white and red-eared fox.

  He held his arm out for me to take. “Your chariot awaits, m’lady.”

  “Chariot?”

  “Kidding. It’s a golf buggy. The ballroom is far, and walking is tedious.” He looked down at me with a smirk and a glint in his eye. “We don’t want to go through the in-between and ruin that devastating dress, now, do we?”

  “Ruin this dress and I’ll ruin your face.”

  “You’ll have every lady in the country banging down your door for retribution if you do.”

  I snorted as he helped me into the golf buggy. When he joined me on the front bench. I stopped him with a palm to the arm. “You look wonderful Marc and thank you for my dress.”

  His cheeks flushed red and his face oscillated between his two selves before he regained control and his appearance smoothed out—suave, charming and handsome. I shook my head. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to him changing like that. Sometimes it felt like I sat next to a hologram. A warm and real hologram that smelled like a pine forest.

  “Thank you, love. I need not tell you how ravishing you look. You’ll find out soon enough when I have to beat the lads off you.”

  The only lad I wanted was Cash.

  We zipped through the hallways until we made it to the ballroom, another large room snuggled away in the underground maze that was the Ludus. This one was on the level closest to the surface and actually not too far from the entrance. Perhaps it was situated for foreign dignitary convenience.

  Marc helped me get out of the buggy and then linked arms as we made our way to the double doors. Soft classical music and happy conversations floated out when he propped the door open an inch for a looksee. I glimpsed decorations on round tables and a glittering blue light. He closed it again. The sound dampened. He turned to me.

  “This is it. You ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be, no wait—stop.” I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as I exhaled. When I reopened my eyes, I felt better. “Okay. Ready.”

  The door swung open, and we walked through, arm in arm, but I stopped a foot inside, head tilted at the ceiling, jaw dropped.

  “Close your mouth, love, before you catch something.” Marc snickered, and I swatted him. He dodged but gave me a megawatt grin.

  In the dim bluish light, lazy falling stars sparked on a continuous cycle from the ceiling to disappear a few feet above the large wooden dance floor. Below this spectacle sat a series of round tables with glowing flower arrangements and stars that looked alive in the center. “How—?”

  “Better to not ask those questions. I don’t. The answer’s usually something dull and boring. Look, over there, our seats. And booze. I hope they have some Ambrosia. Much more interesting, don’t you think?”

  He guided me beyond the staring faces of the entire Ludus population to a table near the dance floor. Jacine sat at one space looking bored from behind a swan mask. Next to her sat a handful of Tribunal members sans Epsilon House. Felix was among them. Three seats were empty. The name place holders showed Marc, myself and Cash. My heart tripped when I saw his name and I swept a glance across the room.

  Not here.

  Lincoln sat at a separate table with Wren and Cygnus. Her mentor was conspicuously missing. Lincoln laughed at something Wren said. She lowered her lashes shyly but placed a daring touch to his arm. My spirits soared to see him happy. A further search and I found Jed at another table, speaking with some people I didn’t recognize—oh, that’s Lena and Jesop. As if feeling my attention, they looked over. Jed’s eyes widened a moment before he lifted a hand. I smiled and waved back. Lena also waved while Jesop impassively nodded.

  Marc tugged me onwards impatiently. Jacine was the first to stand when we approached and then was followed by the rest of the table. Initially I thought they showed respect to Marc but, with a sinking feeling, understood their eyes were on me.

  A flutter of silence.

  I fiddled with the corner of my mask.

  Marc cleared his throat and flashed his eyes at me expectantly.

  Was I supposed to say something?

  Ire rose swiftly, and I pressed together my lips. How could I act the queen when I remembered nothing and denied everything? Ridiculous. It was my own fault, being blinded by the dress. Now I played the perfect god for Marc. I lifted my chin and pulled my chair out, sitting down. I longed for my friend, Kitty. So much better with public attention than me. Being a performer, she thrived on it. But me, the supposed queen of an empire, froze in the face of attention. The quicker the night was over, the better. Less chance of me disappointing anyone then. A glance at Cash’s empty seat only spurred that feeling on.

  “Your Majesty,” Jacine began. She scrunched a napkin in her hands and opened her mouth to continue, but Marc held up his palm.

  “Dinner first. Questions later.” He took off his mask and laid it on the table as a waiter arrived with a tray of steaming food. “I’m famished.”

  So was I. Starving. If there wasn’t music playing, the entire ballroom would’ve heard my stomach growl. Unlike Marc and the rest of the table, I left my mask on. My mouth was clear of it anyway, and it felt like a wall of protection between me and the prying eyes around me. I shoveled most of the gourmet pasta creation into my mouth before I stopped to notice what it was. When the flavors hit my taste buds, I moaned in delight. It tasted like heaven.

  Jacine had eventually sat down, but the tension in her shoulders said she was far from done. We ate, listening to the music which came from a live band in the far corner of the room. Some of them I remembered from Lyra House. But no Drew or Crank in sight.

  We made it through two full courses before Jacine’s restraint crumbled and she spoke. “If I may, I think I speak for everyone present at this table when I say we are deeply honored and grateful that you have returned to us, Your Majesty.”

  Her words insinuated those missing from the room and I cast yet another glance at Cash’s empty seat. “Thank you,” I said and fiddled with my mask.

  “We are also happy to see you have made a full recovery. Before the announcements begin, I’d like to talk about what happened and Urser’s seru—”

  “Not now Jacine,” Marc interrupted.

  “Then when?” she snapped at him. “There’s always something else around here, and we’ve not been able to debrief properly or—” She stopped herself this time and looked at her hands. She took a deep breath before continuing. “Forgive us, but more has happened in the last few days than in a lifetime here. We are eager for answers and we are eager to go home. What happens next?”

  Marc sighed. “We find out what Urser is doing, we learn more about this serum he created, and we confirm if the prince is really dead.”

  “Right.” Jacine nodded, flicking a glance to me. “Yes, we can organize a special task-force and investigate first thing in the morning. What about the other question, when do we go home? I mean, after we sort out Urser I presume, but…” The hopeful look in her eyes was mirrored in her companions around the table.

  “First, I shall address the room.” Marc stood and straightened his tux.

  I was glad he knew what he w
as doing because I didn’t.

  He strode to the center of the dance floor and made a gesture with his hand toward the band. Music died down and soon, voices muffled until the only sound came from the gentle hum of electricity the falling stars created. All eyes were on Marc.

  He spoke, but his voice was too quiet to reach the edges of the room. He tapped his throat. “Is this thing on?” He cleared it and the next time he spoke, the volume amplified with his power.

  “Ladies and gentlemen and distinguished Simons—ah, I mean humans. I have a special announcement to make. I see we all made it through the trials. No? What’s that—an empty seat? He didn’t make it? Shame. Oh, okay, there are a few empty seats. My bad. Well, anyway, congratulations to all of you who made it. Tremendous effort.” He clapped his hands and a round of applause from the room erupted. When the sound died down he continued. “There’s been an exciting development this year, and it’s my pleasure to inform you that this is the final group of Nephilim who will play the Game. Ever.”

  Gasps and shocked sounds burst from people all around the room. Marc waved them down.

  “I know, I know. Exhilarating, yeah? Once this round is played out, and your souls returned, we will also see to ending the banishment and bring the Watchers loyal to the Empire home.”

  Another round of applause erupted, this time from all the Watchers present.

  “Time to break out the champagne,” Marc said and was rewarded with the cheers of many.

  A voice rose from the crowd. “What if we’re picked off early so the Watchers can get back to the Empire quicker?”

  Marc’s hand lifted to shelter his eyes, and he squinted into the dark to locate the voice. “I’m sorry, who said that?

  “My name is Jamieson.”

  “Okay, Jamieson, what do you mean by that?”

  Someone stood up at a table near the back. “Well, you just said, once we’ve finished playing the Game, you’ll take them home. What if the Watchers try to hasten their return to the Empire by picking us off early?”

  “Is that any different from what you do to each other now?”

  A hum of agreement rumbled over the crowd and a few more voices lifted to ask more questions. Jamieson sat down.

  “Why? What’s brought this on?” another voice asked, then added hastily. “My name is Maggie, sir.”

  Maggie. That name sounded familiar. Come to think of it, so did Jamieson.

  “Questions, questions. This isn’t a game of bloody Jeopardy, people. It’s the Game of Gods! Anyone would have thought you lot aren’t grateful.” Marc snorted. Then his gaze flickered to me before moving back to scan the crowd. “Oh, and one more thing. If anyone touches a hair on the head of Laroux Urser”—he pointed at me—“I will personally hunt you down and entangle your atoms so you cease to exist. Capeesh? Pass it on.”

  “Why is she so special?”

  “Oh, a curious lot, aren’t you? Well, I suppose in for a penny, in for a pound. She’s the queen reincarnate. If she dies, so do you all. Protect her with your life.”

  Chapter 39

  After Marc’s declaration, I dropped my head into my palms. There goes my anonymity and my freedom. Another murmur washed over the room. The weight of a hundred eyes landed on me. My skin prickled with energy and my face went hot under the mask. Their auras palpated around me, speared my way, eager to touch. The air thickened, and I had trouble breathing, but damned if I let anyone see that. I lifted my gaze to Marc and scowled under the safety of my mask.

  “Right. If that’s all then, the important thing to remember is that after millennia of banishment, Seraphim will finally get to go home. My advice to you is enjoy the rest of the evening. Have a dance, have a laugh, then go home and have screw. Enjoy the last ever Libertine Ball.”

  People stood in their seats, cheering, clapping, looking at me with smiles splitting their faces. In their eyes, I gave them meaning, purpose. It was all so unwarranted and made me feel like a fraud.

  Marc gestured for the band to start up again and for someone to dim the lights. Darkness dropped and soon, the only light came from the crackling stars above.

  When he returned to his seat, Marc put his mask back on and turned to me. “You all right, love?”

  “Why would she be? You put a bloody target on her back by revealing her to the world,” Jacine snapped, lifting her Swan mask to her forehead so she could clearly give him icy blue daggers.

  “Bollocks. I’ve just clarified that if she dies, everyone dies. How is that hard to comprehend?” He said it so casually as though discussing the weather.

  “They all think it’s me who’s letting them go home, but I didn’t do this,” I said, looking around me wildly.

  “Yes, you did.”

  “But I don’t remember.”

  “Irrelevant. They never thought they’d go home. Your presence changes that. Now, nobody is getting up to dance. We must make a show of it, love. The quicker everyone gets back to normal, the better.”

  I groaned and slipped a finger under my mask to wipe the sweat gathering. “Do I have to?”

  He stood and offered his hand to me. “Yes. C’mon. Chop-chop. Up and at ‘em.”

  But I couldn’t move, frozen to my seat, still dizzy and heady from the electrified energy in the room. People whispered excitedly around me, watching me. It filtered into their essence and fanned my cheeks with heat. Panic set root in my chest and squeezed.

  “I’ll take her.”

  Cash.

  I stood up so fast I almost knocked the table over. Cutlery and glasses clinked from the impact. Graceful queen of everything stumbled like an awkward elephant.

  My heart stuttered at the sight of him and I found my words escaped me.

  Cash looked—different.

  I couldn’t place my finger on it, and it wasn’t the decadent costume. He wore a black tuxedo with a simple black mask over his eyes. His short hair was impeccably groomed, and his stubble shaved clean. He filled out his tux as though it were a second skin. Lean lines tapered to complement the body underneath. But that wasn’t why he looked different. There was something about the way he held himself, the coloring in his face, and the slip of aura emanating from him now and then. New, more powerful, animalistic. Deadly. So many words came to mind when I caught his dark gaze on me. I didn’t know whether to run away or go to him.

  Slowly, but surely, I reached out to take hold of his hand. My bottom lip trembled when we touched.

  From the corner of my eye, I noticed Marc’s hand still hovered in offering. He lowered it and, although his mask hid his face, he couldn’t hide his disappointment.

  I gave Cash’s hand a quick squeeze and then rushed to the God of the In-Between. I tipped up on my toes and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you,” I whispered into his ears.

  “Always, love. Now, go and have yourself a good time.” He patted me on the shoulder then turned to his companions at the table and made a joke about the lack of Ambrosia to spike the human alcohol.

  When I turned back to Cash, my legs wobbled. He cut a handsome figure, and every woman within ten feet felt the same. Many sets of eyes looked him up and down with appreciation. Our hands came together. Cash led me to the center of the empty dance floor and we faced each other with the world around us dimming to the light of his magnificence.

  “Just a second,” he said and jogged to the band to say something.

  Stiff as a board, I waited, twisting my hands, not daring to glimpse the watching crowd.

  The music stuttered and then started again. When he got back, he gathered me in his arms with a little half smile. Someone in the band clapped a beat, counting it out, and then the violins and double bass jumped in with a tune decidedly not classic. My heart leapt for joy and my gaze collided with Cash’s.

  “Raspberry Beret?” I grinned. My discomfort melted away.

  “He’s singing about his first love, right?” he said with intensity.

  Had he been researching Prince, for me?
r />   He suddenly shrugged as if it didn’t mean a thing, but his half-smile blew into a broad, knowing grin and we danced. I’d never seen him dance before, but he was confident, carefree and more Tommy than Cash. No, he wasn’t one or the other, he was everything. I laughed, overwhelmed by my emotions. So glad he came back. I wanted to kiss him, but there were too many eyes on us. Someone whooped, and cheered, I think it was Marc.

  Cash’s smile dropped and a flicker of something passed in his eyes. He leaned in to whisper into my ear: “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up.”

  I slowed dancing and slid a hand behind his neck. “It’s okay, I know you were busy becoming a super Seraphim or something.”

  “No, it’s not okay. You gave me everything and the first thing I thought of was making Urser pay. And…” His voice trailed off. He shook his head and took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have left you to wake without me being there. After everything I said about never leaving you, I wasn’t there. I’m sorry.”

  I searched his face for sign of injury, but there was none. Amazing. “Your wounds are gone. How are you feeling?”

  “I feel… incredible. Invincible. And…” He checked our surroundings. Still only us on the dance floor. No one close. “I’ve changed.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m stronger, faster and I think it’s only the beginning. Still, I should’ve been with you and not traipsing around Sydney looking for your father.”

  “I must admit, when you weren’t there I thought you believed Petra and doubted everything we shared.”

  He brushed a finger up my arm and took hold of my hand at his neck. He gently pulled it away and brushed my knuckles against his lips, keeping his eyes locked on mine. “I never doubted it was you when we were together. She’s a witch. I sensed her the second she took over.”

  Those memories flashed before my eyes, Ava’s struggling face among them. I had to look away from his intensity in case the tears burning my eyes escaped. I swallowed and took a brave breath, then met his eyes. “Thank you for coming for me, even though you almost died because of it.”

 

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