“This is totally unfair,” Trevor is saying. “I get covered in harpy excrement and I’m the one who’s disqualified?!”
Zahara laughs wickedly. “I really had to go and I thought I could slam a doot quietly but…”
“Nice!” I hold my hand up for Zahara to high-five it. As her talon connects with my palm, I turn to Trevor. “You deserved that.”
He grins at me, unrepentant and unabashed. “My dad does always say that I’m a little stinker.”
I try to hold back a smile, but can’t. Trevor is awful, but I do love a guy who can laugh at himself.
“So everyone in there is now basking in your turd smell?” Constantine asks. “You are evil.”
Zahara shrugs. “Those stuck up jerks deserve it. Not Rada, though. I feel bad for Rada.”
The door opens again and Alaric is let out. “Foul, disgusting, disgraceful,” he mutters.
“So it’s down to Malik, Sophia, and Rada, right?” I ask.
“Well, no use crying over spilled…whatever this is,” Trevor says, raising his arms. “I’m going to go clean up.”
“I’ll walk with you,” I tell him, keeping a few feet between us.
When we’re out of earshot I ask him about the drink he gave Constantine. “What are you trying to pull? You could have seriously hurt Constantine.”
“Please. You were just talking to him. Obviously, he’s fine.” Trevor gestures behind him toward where Constantine is now sitting. It’s true, he does look fine. And actually less miserable than I’ve ever seen him before.
“Well, he did say he hasn’t been sleeping well. Maybe that’s why he passed out so quickly.”
“Exactly,” Trevor quickly agrees. “I was just helping him out. The poor guy wants to throw in the towel because of the unfortunate side effects of his power but he needn’t.”
“Why the hell would you want to help him?”
“Would you believe that I’m a good person?” He gives me that devilishly wicked grin.
“No, absolutely not.”
“You have wounded me,” he tells me, hand on heart. “I think we should hug it out.”
“No way,” I squeal. “You just want to cop a feel.”
“And I think you’d let me if no one else was around.” He makes a big show of looking in all directions. “We do seem to be alone now.”
“Actually, we’re not. I count you, me, and a whole lot of stink lines.”
“What’s a little feces between friends?” he asks, arms wide, coming at me.
I back up and run right into someone. Oh my, someone with one heck of an ab pack. I raise my face and realize this Oxford is familiar.
“You two are such children,”Alaric says.
Trevor changes into Alaric, mimicking his expression. “I am an arrogant prig with the sense of humor of a boiled egg,” he says.
“How droll,” Alaric says.
Trevor changes back into himself. “At least Rick didn’t win either,” he says, his gaze clashing with his brother’s.
It’s clear Trevor’s trying to get under Alaric’s skin, but it doesn’t work. Alaric just shrugs and turn away.
Trevor, after a moment, shifts his attention back to me. “Alright love, now I really have to get in a shower.” He gives me a wink.
“Yes, you do,” I agree, thinking about Trevor in the shower. I shake my head. Get it together, girl. I’ve got a competition to win, and that won’t happen if I’m thinking about the boys’ bums.
Or about boys who are total butts.
For some reason Alaric is still standing nearby. I give him my haughtiest glare and then spin on my heel, heading back to Harpocrates’s shrine to find out who else couldn’t stand Zahara’s bird bomb.
Alaric falls into step beside me. “He’s playing with you. It’s because he doesn’t take you seriously as competition.”
My stomach clenches. That’s sorta why I assumed Trevor was helping Constantine. Help the weaker competitors through the early rounds, so they’re easy pickings in the later ones. But Trevor hasn’t helped me. He’s just flirted and...played with me.
But I’m playing with him too, right?
“I know you’re just jealous of him,” I say, because I gotta say something. “You’re worried he’s gonna steal your title.”
Alaric laughs in this brittle sort of way. “No, I’m worried that one day he’ll push me in front of a bus so he can steal the title. Honestly, the title would be of little concern to me at that point, as I’d be dead.”
“He would never!” I say, although honestly, I’m not entirely sure. “You’re just being paranoid.”
“Perhaps,” Alaric nods. “We were only children the time he nearly drowned me in the lake behind our estate.”
I gasp. “He didn’t.”
“He said it was a joke. That he didn’t mean to hit me in the head with the boat ore.”
“Well maybe it was an accident.”
Alaric slants a look my way that makes it clear he thinks I’m a fool. “I don’t like to meddle, but I felt honor-bound to warn you about Trevor. He will not forget that you are his competition. You should not forget it either. Also, this morning I saw him having a tête-à-tête with Hades—” Alaric stops and shakes his head. “Never mind.”
“Hold up,” I grab hold of Alaric’s arm and pull him to a stop.
He looks down his nose at me, obviously frustrated by my superior strength. “Please resist the urge to dislocate my shoulder again.”
“Don’t change the subject. I wanna know more about this titty-tits he had with Hades. They got some sort of sex thing going on?”
“Tête-à-tête is French.”
“Oooh. So super kinky then, huh?”
Alaric sighs heavily. “It means a private conversation between two people.”
I throw my hands up in disgust. “Then why didn’t you just say that to begin with?”
“I apologize. In truth, I shouldn’t have mentioned it at all. I only saw them for a brief moment. I heard nothing of what was said. It could have been an innocent chance meeting.”
“But you don’t actually believe that, right?”
Alaric glances at me and then away. “I don’t want to pass along half-baked theories based on something I saw.”
“But you don’t trust him. You told me not to trust him. And he once tried to kill you and you’re afraid he’ll do it again.”
“Not afraid,” Alaric corrects. “Just wary.”
I frown up at him, realizing there might be more there than I suspected. “I don’t get it.”
“He’s my brother,” Alaric says in his stuffy way, that for some reason is starting to grow on me. “I don’t like him. I don’t trust him. Even though he would not hesitate to toss me under a passing bus, I will not do the same to him. He’s blood.”
I don’t say anything to this. I don’t know what to say. It’s a pretty impressive little speech. And I can’t help but think, with that sort of loyalty, Alaric would be a pretty great guy to have on one’s side.
In bed, my traitor brain adds.
I quickly shake that thought away. Alaric is so not my type.
Anyway, as he himself pointed out, he and Trevor are blood. And I bet there’s some things they have in common.
Neither of them is gonna forget that I’m the competition. And both of them are determined to win.
Rada carries the day.
Malik’s lion form almost gave him the win. He was planning on sleeping through the whole contest. But Zahara’s amazing asshole exodus was too much for his sensitive nose. He sneezed in his sleep.
That left Sophia and Rada. Pissed at losing and at having his nap interrupted, Malik zapped them both with lightning on his way out. He insists it was no worse than a little static electricity. Sophia cried out and was eliminated. She walked out with all her hair sticking straight up, which was a damn pleasure to witness.
Rada was so deep in her meditative trance that Harpocrates had to raise his voice to rouse her, w
hich only impressed him all the more. He walked out of the quiet room holding one of her arms in the air, pumping it viciously, a silent celebration of her…silence.
As word went around campus that it was down to the final three—and one of them was Rada—the Amazon students had begun gathering outside. Obviously, all of the Amazons are entirely behind my roomie, shouting and stomping as Harpocrates quietly declares her the winner. A few of them even send arrows flying, narrowly missing her head, and landing with a thunk in the wall behind her. This must be some sort of high compliment, because Rada bows deeply, blushing.
I’m clapping too, jumping up and down. I stick my fingers into my mouth and let out a wolf whistle. Beside me, Alaric stops his polite golf clap to give me some side-eye, but I don’t let his attitude bother me.
Nobody’s going to poop on this parade. My roomie just inherited thunder.
15
The transfer of power ceremony is after dinner.
I was sort of hoping us girls could have a little celebration for Rada mixed with some commiseration for Prisha.
But no one’s seen Prisha all day.
Zahara disappeared with Sora after they were whispering and giggling together. She told me they were going to check out his water horse, but she gave me a wink that told me it was code for something else. And I think that something else was sex. I’ve gotten used to Zahara’s appearance, but still my mind is struggling to understand how she managed to hook up with the hottest guy here.
Not that I’m jealous. I don’t like kissing with my eyes open, but if I was with Sora, I can’t imagine closing my eyes to his beauty.
With my other two girls gone, I’ve stuck by Rada as much as possible. The Amazons have been jostling me, anxious to claim her as their own. We’re surrounded by well-wishers at dinner. Including Lilliana. She actually has the nerve to shove herself in between Rada and me. Then she points at the table where the rest of the contestants are sitting and suggests I might be more comfortable over there. Rada intervenes and tells Lilliana to be nice.
I definitely do not want to sit with the other contestants. The atmosphere at their table is gloomier than a January afternoon. Nobody even laughs when a still drowsy Constantine falls face-first into his plate, spattering Sophia with mashed potatoes. After screeching something about commoners, Sophia levitates with anger and flings a gigantic glob of potatoes in Rada’s direction.
Lilliana, without hesitation, puts an arrow straight through it. Which would be cool, except she jabs me hard with her bow as she moves it into position, and I’m pretty sure it’s not an accident. Also, the mass of mashed taters rains down on us and instead of just Rada picking it out of her hair, we all gotta do it.
I guess it’s sorta a girl-bonding type thing, but not really what I was hoping for.
Finally, everyone starts to make their way from the dining hall to the auditorium where the ceremony will be held.
“So, does anyone know what the transfer ceremony is like?” I lean into Rada, before she gets snatched away again.
“No,” she admits, her smile losing some of its shine. “I hope it’s not something that will hurt Prisha.”
“Or you,” I add, squeezing her wrist as Taylor pulls her away from me, double-checking something on her clipboard as she leads Rada to the stage.
I spot Zahara and make my way to her, but as I spot what’s sitting on her other side, I can’t help but hesitate. But Zahara is already waving for me to join them.
“Hey,” I say to Zahara. “Did you have a nice afternoon visiting Sora’s water horse?”
“Oh yeah,” Zahara grins. “I saw the water horse. I rode it too.”
I smile back, but honestly I have no idea if we’re talking about Sora’s horse or his merman dick.
“This is my mentor, Shehelb,” Zahara says, introducing me to the thing sitting next to her. “She’s a manticore.”
“She?” I’m about to ask, because that’s not the pronoun I would have picked first. But I’m smart enough to tamp down on it. “Pleased to meet you,” I say, but I have no idea whether to attempt a shake or not. Shehelb has the face of a human, but the body of a lion, and is sporting a pair of wings that would look at home on something I’d spray Raid on.
“Where is your mentor?” Zahara asks.
“Oh, Edie popped in yesterday,” I tell her. “Are they supposed to be here for the ceremony?”
“Quite a few others are. Malik’s in particular is hard to miss,” she admits, her eyes following the easy stroll of a panther as he prowls through the crowd. I mean, it’s a nice looking cat, but I’d think having spent her whole life in the paranormal world it would take more than a sharp set of claws to impress Zahara.
Then he shifts into his human form, and I totally get it.
“Seriously, how is everyone here not pregnant right now?” I ask, and a bunch of Amazons toss me dirty looks. I couldn’t care less, though. I’m straightening my clothes and making sure my hair looks good. Because Mr. Cat Man is coming my way.
“Hey Zahara!” he says first, and then to my amazement, he leans over the seats to kiss her cheek.
“Jordan, I just found out that you’re Malik’s mentor,” she says in a voice that’s definitely different than the one I normally hear. It’s husky and totally flirtatious.
“Yeah.” He shrugs. “Small world, huh?”
Zahara turns to me and her mentor, including us in the conversation. “Jordan and I went to summer camp together ages ago. It was this one-time thing to try and broker peace between monsters and shifters. Of course, us kids were way more into spin the bottle than politics. At first no one would kiss me. Except Jordan.” Her eyes go soft as she looks at him.
“Hell yeah, I did,” Jordan says with an enthusiastic nod. “You used tongue. Nobody else even tried, but you went for it. You totally blew my mind.”
Zahara smiles and gazes up at him through her lashes, cranking the flirt factor up to its highest power. “I was hoping we could catch up, find out if you’ve learned anything new in that department, but I hear you’ve got a pretty serious relationship now?”
Suddenly bashful, Jordan shrugs and shoves his hands into pockets. “Yeah, I got hit with Hepatitis and never looked back.”
Looking a little deflated, Zahara sinks back into her chair. “By the way, this is one of the other contestants, Brandee Jean.”
“Hi,” he says, looking me right in the eye, gaze not wandering anywhere else. “I’m Jordan, Malik’s mentor.”
“Hi,” I say, and then not caring about the whole girlfriend thing, I drop my voice into a sultry tone I only use for contest judges and police that pull me over. I need to have a talk with Zahara and explain that flirting isn’t something that’s done with an end goal of getting into a guy’s pants. Sometimes just the flirting itself can be fun.
If you do it right.
“You’re Brandee Jean, Edie’s mentee, right?”
“You know Edie?” I ask. “I just love her. I mean, not like that. I’m into guys.”
“Cool, me too,” Jordan says, and I’m instantly deflated. “I mean, I love Edie,” he clarifies.
“Oh?” I perk right back up, only to realize what he just said.
He smiles, following my thoughts. “Platonically, I love Edie,” he says. “I took a swipe at her, but she wasn’t into me.”
“Um, how?” I ask, and next to me Zahara makes some sort of guttural noise of agreement.
Malik shows up beside Jordan, and they both shift back into cats, threading their way to the aisles, where they can stretch out. On stage, Athena approaches the podium. Behind her, two chairs are arranged facing each other, the length of the stage in between them. Other gods start to come up to the front. I spot Artemis and Hades, Demeter, Harpocrates, plus a handful I don’t recognize. They line the back of the stage. When Prisha is brought out, a hush falls over the crowd.
“Ladies and…gentlemen,” Athena still struggles getting the phrase out. “Welcome to the first transferal ceremo
ny. Before we begin today, I want to address the zombie situation. I appreciate that you ladies resisted the urge to speculate and discuss the topic amongst yourselves. As I always say, ‘Not everything you hear is good for talk.’”
Around me, several Amazon heads nod in agreement with this.
I gotta admit, this is the most impressive thing I’ve seen from the Amazons yet. The pageant scene practically ran on gossip, but not once today did I hear a single peep from anyone about how one of their own got zombiefied and then trampled by horses.
Athena continues, “My uncle, Hades, wants to offer an apology for this incident and his assurances that this will never happen again.”
There is a threat in Athena’s voice as she announces this and from the way Hades scowls and drags his feet as he approaches her podium, I’m guessing she already made some pretty big threats to his face.
“Hey, uh, girls—” he begins, but Athena quickly cuts him off.
“Not girls. They are Amazon warriors.”
Hades looks at her with ill-disguised annoyance. “Fine. Amazon warriors, sorry about the thing with the zombie girl—er, zombie Amazon warrior—this morning. Okay?”
He turns to Athena. “So that was the part where I apologized. You got that, right?” She nods regally and he continues. “Anyways, it wasn’t my fault. As you all know, the world’s a mess right now, which means it’s busy season down in the underworld. Lots of people dying and needing to be sorted out. Meanwhile, I’m up here, because this is where Athena wanted the contest, so I can’t be directly overseeing everything that’s going on. I put a new assistant in charge while I’m gone, this bat shifter kid. Frankly, he’s not underworld material, but he’s there, so we work with what we got. Anyway, zombies gotta be kept on a tight leash, but obviously the kid let a few slip. He oughta be the one apologizing, but he’s not here, so really when I said that I was sorry, I really meant that he was.”
This is seriously the worst apology ever. First off, it’s not my fault, secondly, zombies gonna zomb.
Once more Hades looks to Athena. “Okay, that what you wanted? We good?”
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