“Huh?” I say.
He smiles. “Do you want to form an alliance with me? I’m not sure if you noticed, but we are the only ones left who haven’t paired up.”
“No, I noticed.” I scuff a toe in the dirt. “I thought you’d join up with Rada and Zahara after I left. The three of you all got that sensible and logical thing going on.”
“That’s true. However, it seems to me that it might be more clever to diversify. If I’m smart and logical—”
“Sensible and logical,” I cut in. “I never said you were smart.”
“My mistake.” Alaric actually laughs at this. “As I was saying, I would rather team up with someone who is my opposite.”
I put my hands on my hips. “You calling me insensible and illogical?”
“Brandee Jean, are you trying to pick a fight with me?” Alaric tilts his head, studying me like I’m a curiosity he can’t quite figure out.
“Yeah. No.” I sigh. “Maybe. I’ve just been rethinking this whole alliance thing. My mama always used to tell me not to cozy up to the other contestants. I was supposed to be frenemies with the other girls, but once I got to know someone the enemy part of it usually went out the door.”
“That’s why I want to be in an alliance with you.” Alaric takes a step toward me and I quickly take a matching step back, my hands automatically moving to cover my womb.
“Don’t impregnate me!”
“Of course not!” Alaric’s eyes go wide and he takes another step away and then one more, just to be safe. We eye one another across what has become a slightly ridiculous distance.
Alaric shakes his head, like he knows this is absurd. “As I was saying, the reason I want to be in an alliance with you is because of your friendliness. You are not a person who needs to be taught honor, you are inherently loyal to those around you. I saw that in the way you took care of Sora’s body.”
My throat thickens. “They just treated him like trash. Like he didn’t matter. I didn’t even really know him, but Sora deserved better than that.”
Alaric nods in agreement. We’re silent for a moment, and then he gestures to a nearby log. “Might we risk sitting side by side? I swear to you, I have no desire to be a father. I will keep a safe distance.”
After thinking it over, I shake my head yes and head over to the log. I sit and Alaric sits an arm’s length away from me.
He clears his throat and then says, “So what do you think? Shall we team up?”
I fidget with my hands, still unsure. Not about Alaric. The more I get to know him, the less I mind his stuffiness. But I still got Mama’s voice in my head and I’m not sure if an alliance will make me weaker or stronger. I take a deep breath and try to explain it to Alaric.
“The last contest I won before the world went kablooey was this little podunk one. Miss Westside Dairy Express. It was for a new store and the prize was a twenty dollar gift certificate. Still, I won and I thought Mama would be happy. But instead she went off, talking about how many more crowns I’d have if got serious and competed like my life was at stake.”
Alaric laughs softly. “I think you have a pageant story for everything.”
Ouch. That hurts. It’s like he didn’t even hear what I said. “Yeah and pageants are dumb and I’m dumb too. I know.”
“Actually, I’ve come to realize from your stories that pageants are a fascinating subculture.” Alaric’s arm crosses the distance between us and his big hand settles on top of mine. “And I understand about your mother. My family has always been hard on me as well.”
I shake my head. “She just didn’t want me to make the same mistakes as her. And I just wanted to make Mama happy. But sometimes...sometimes it feels like I’ve spent my whole life pretending to be tougher than I actually am.”
“And I,” Alaric says, “sometimes feel as if I’ve spent my whole life squashing any part of me that isn’t perfectly genteel and polite. Do you know, I was terrified of accidentally winning Constantine’s power? I couldn’t imagine what my family would say if they heard I was walking around with a—” Alaric clears his throat, leaving the rest unsaid.
“Boner,” I fill in for him. “Or as we call it in Wisconsin, a hardwood smoked sausage.”
“Indeed.”
I giggle. “But don’t they want you to win the whole thing? Would they overlook that you’re constantly at full salute if you got the powers of a god?”
“Full salute,” Alaric mutters with a small chuckle. Then he goes quiet. “They want me to win. Or Trevor. Either of us claiming the crown would add to our family’s consequence. And for Trevor, well, he’d no longer be the bastard son. He’d be a god.”
I frown at him; the way he talks about winning doesn’t sound very enthusiastic. “Do you even want to win?”
On the wobbly log, Alaric straightens, back lengthening, chin up. You’d think he was on a throne instead of a worm-eaten old tree. “It is my obligation.”
“Yeah, but that’s not what I asked.”
Alaric turns to look at me. His eyes are intense. “I want to do my duty. It’s what I’ve been taught.”
I shrug, realizing that’s all he’s gonna say.
“What about you?” he asks. “Surely you have enough crowns in your collection?”
“Yeah, I got lots of crowns, but it’s not really something a girl can have too many of.”
“But it’s obviously more than an accessory that’s driving you.” He reaches over to give me a physical nudge to go with the verbal one, obviously wanting to hear more. “You’re not that shallow.”
I answer by pushing him back. Except my push isn’t playful. He falls off the log and onto his back. Pushing to my feet, I stand over him. “I spent every dollar I had to get here. Also, I’ve been living on my wits since the world went wacko, and before you can tell me those aren’t the sharpest, I’ll admit that having super strength has helped too. In fact, if it wasn’t for my super strength—”
My throat goes tight as the night Shauna and I got grabbed plays through my mind.
“If it wasn’t for my super strength, I wouldn’t have gotten away from some super bad guys who grabbed my friend and me one night when we were out scavenging deserted houses.”
I laugh, remembering the only good part of this story.
“It wasn’t food or anything like that we wanted, but music. Shauna had found an old CD player that took batteries. It came with some old Madonna and Tiffany discs that I loved, but Shauna said she’d kill herself if she had to listen to them one more time. So we were on the hunt for her type of music.” I look down at Alaric, who’s still in the dirt at my feet. “Can you guess what it was?”
“Shauna loved Beethoven.”
I scoff. “Please. Shauna was cool. She was total rock’n’roll all the way. She found some Van Halen and nearly pissed herself with joy. This one house that had frilly curtains and pictures of Jesus on the wall amazingly turned out to be the motherload. Journey, Whitney Houston, Prince, and a bunch of old movie soundtracks.” I hold out a hand to Alaric and he takes it. “Now here comes the bad part.”
I pull him up so we’re standing face to face. “We were walking home and not being as careful as we shoulda been. Actually, we were loud. Shauna made up a game where we read a song on the back of a CD and the other person had to sing it. Whether you knew the song or not. Shauna’s made up lyrics were the funniest thing I ever heard. We were dying.”
I’m smiling, not just remembering, but almost back in that moment once more. If I could only pause it there. Take away the part that happened next.
But I can’t.
I take a step closer to Alaric. He holds his arms out. I shuffle my feet forward until my nose touches his shirt and then my forehead falls so it’s resting against his hard warm chest. After a moment his hands land lightly on my back. Not pulling or demanding, but just resting there if I need them.
“These guys came out of nowhere,” I tell the buttons on Alaric’s shirt. “Six of them on foot, and th
en more on bikes. Maybe they’d been following us for a while. I don’t know. They got Shauna pretty easily. She was on the back of a bike and gone. I couldn’t even see what direction they took her. I had three guys on me, after I punched the first one out cold. You know, those CD cases, when they break, are pretty sharp. I got the plastic clenched in between my fingers, the way they teach girls to do with their car keys if they’re out late at night by themselves. And I just went all Wolverine on their asses. Then I ran.”
I shake my head, still disgusted with myself after all this time.
“I was winning. I beat the shit out of them, and then I ran like a scared little girl.”
“You were a scared girl,” Alaric says gently.
“But I was stronger than them!” The words burst out of me. “Than all of them! I could’ve held them down and made them take me to Shauna. I could’ve threatened to cut off their balls if they didn’t return her.”
I pull away from Alaric, needing to stand tall as I repeat my pledge.
“I promised myself I would get her back. No matter what. And I’d make those assholes pay too.”
Alaric stares at me. He doesn’t crack a joke. Or make any comment at all. Finally, he just points a finger at me. “That’s honor. The very definition of it.”
I’m a little embarrassed by this. I’ve been told I’m beautiful, talented, cute, and even quirky. But honorable is a new one for me.
I think I kinda like it.
“Also,” Alaric adds, “you definitely have the better ‘why I want to win’ story.”
I laugh, the sound rough after all that talking.
He holds out a hand. “Brandee Jean, would you like to form an alliance with me?”
I hesitate before sliding my hand into his. “I will watch your ass like no one else has ever watched it before. And you better watch mine too.”
“Indeed I will.” Alaric clears his throat. “Perhaps our meeting within your box was providential after all.”
Coming close I give his upper arm a little punch. “Does that mean you forgive me for your shoulder oopsie?”
Alaric tilts his head, obviously thinking about it. But then he grins. “One cannot hold a grudge against their ally. Which means that this one time I will give you a pass on dislocating my shoulder.”
“And it’s all better now?” I reach out to pat his arm, checking to make sure it’s okay. And maybe also copping a feel.
“The healers here are quite extraordinary. The arm is better than ever.” Alaric flexes his arm as I hold on. It’s possible he’s showing off a little. But I can’t say that I mind.
“Aww, isn’t this sweet?” a voice from the shadows says and I jump away from Alaric.
“I will straight up kill a zombie,” I yell.
Alaric shakes his head. “It’s not a zombie. It’s Hades.”
Hades steps forward. He’s fit and attractive, like all the gods, but in a greasy way. Like an older dude who will offer to be your talent agent and the audition involves a seedy motel and some Polaroids.
“I’ve been watching you,” he tells us.
“Okay creeper, what do you want?” I put my hands on my hips and push out my chest.
“I would like to help you,” he tells us. I realize he’s not talking to us, but only to Alaric.
“Help us what?” Alaric scoffs. “Cheat?”
“No. Nothing like that. Just help push you toward the winning spot. I had backed another contestant, but he’s a bit of a loose cannon.”
“Who?!” I ask, then think, oh duh. “Trevor?”
“Yes. He’s not meeting my expectations but you…” He focuses on Alaric. “You can actually win this thing. You’ve got the talent and the breeding…”
“And what am I?” I ask. “Cheese curds? I just want to point out that I’ve won a trial. Alaric hasn’t.” I point to myself. “Me win. Alaric no win.”
Hades ignores me. “Alaric my boy, join me. Pledge your loyalty to me. We can rule this world together.”
Alaric narrows his eyes. “You think that I would betray my brother like that?”
Hades scoffs. “You hate each other. He was very eager to throw you under the bus.”
“Regardless of what Trevor does or how he feels, I am not him. I would never cheat.”
Hades finally turns to me. “Will you talk some sense into him?”
“Oh, now you care I exist?” I ask. “Why the hell..Hades…whatever…would I tell him to agree to your devil’s bargain? My mama always said you can sell your soul, but ain’t nothing gonna buy it back.”
“You could see your mother again,” Hades tells me.
My hands drop and I almost sink to the ground but Alaric is there, holding me up.
“Go away,” he tells Hades. “I’m not making a bargain with you. I’ll win fairly or not at all.”
“You didn’t even hear my offer,” he says.
“I could talk to my mama?” I ask. Is it really possible?
“Get Alaric to agree to be my champion and to share the power he wins, and yes. I will bring you to the underworld.”
Alaric whispers in my ear, “He can’t be trusted.”
I regain my footing. “Bring me to the underworld? So, I’d be dead?” No. Nope. Nah Ah. “When my mama took her own life I promised I would never do that. I can wait to see her.”
“You do not want the god of death as your enemy.” Hades puffs up and does this weird shimmering thing. The air around him smokes.
“I’m not getting in bed with death,” I tell him. “And I wouldn’t let any of my friends either.”
“You hear the lady, begone,” Alaric tells him.
Hades disappears and Alaric is still holding me. I look up at him. “That was very good of you to refuse Hades. Trevor…”
“Is my blood, whatever else he is.” He places his hand on my cheek. “What about you. Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I breathe. I force a tired smile. “I guess we just found out we make a pretty good team after all.”
21
My alliance with Alaric does me zero good in the horse paddock.
Whiskey is still only willing to listen to me so long as I keep the promise that I’ll be leaving him alone in the near future. Unfortunately, I don’t have much control over that promise. Or over my horse. He still refuses to take a single step unless I stick my fingers in his ears. And then he runs like hell.
Epona spends an entire day giving me personal one-on-one help. We work on the apparently must-have Amazon move of slipping down the horse’s side and then clinging to him with my legs while I shoot at targets from under his neck.
Of course, I’m terrible at it.
After a while, Epona sits down with a book and doesn’t even look up at me—she just waits until there’s the thud of me hitting the ground once more—and then offers the helpful advice, “Get up.”
So I do. Over and over again. I climb up on my damn horse. He shivers beneath me and waits for me to slide off once more. Finally after the thousandth time falling on my face, I sulk in the dirt at Whiskey’s feet, too disheartened to do much more.
It doesn’t help that Malik and Sophia come cantering past right then, their horses trained so perfectly that they even crap on cue.
Archery class doesn’t go much better.
I manage to miss the target and somehow the arrow rebounds and pierces Rada’s shoulder. She’s a champ about it, of course. No screeches for Rada. Not even a rumble of thunder. She simply grimaces and then pulls it out. Once the arrow’s out, she calls everyone over so we can all see the hole closing before our eyes.
I’m totally jealous in that moment. Although I’m quite fond of my super strength, being able to heal yourself is amazing. I bet Rada doesn’t even need to worry about putting her SPF on every day. She can simply heal any sun damage each night before she goes to bed.
Rada easily accepted my apology for the whole arrow incident. But Liliana lost her shit. She yelled that if I’d struck anyone else, they woul
d’ve been seriously injured. Then making sure to get right up in my face, Lilliana suggested that I remove myself from the contest, the Academy, and for good measure the entire western hemisphere.
Devana was kind enough to insert herself between Lilliana and myself. Even though I could totally crush the little bitch with one hand, I don’t think it would improve my standing with any of the other Amazons—including my roommate, Rada.
Once Lilliana was swept away to help someone restring her bow, Devana took me aside for some, “Extra help for the extra helpless.”
This extra help mostly consisted of her insisting that I’m left-handed. This apparently means that my left eye is my dominant one, and the one I should use for aiming.
“Right hand person teach you everything you know, ya? Zey teach you wrong. Listen to Devana. Devana knows,” she says, looking glumly at my target’s perfectly smooth and unpunctured surface. “Poor virgin target. You now use correct hand, which is the left one and break target’s hymen.”
“That’s gross and I’m not left-handed,” I yell, throwing my bow on the ground. “Mama told me I got my finger stuck in her diamond-studded hoop earring when I was just a baby. Hoops were her signature piece, ’cause Mama said every woman needs a signature piece. But she lost the left diamond hoop years ago, so she wore rhinestones on the right. But I went right for the real thing.”
Devana stares me down for a second and then coolly asks. “Vould zat be her right or yours?”
Beside me, Lilliana snickers. I march out of class, head high, but my cheeks burn with embarrassment.
Now, at dinner, I’m trying not to be too annoyed while Zahara and Rada talk about tonight’s trial. Since declaring their alliance they’ve been stuck to each other.
I’d almost think it was a romantic thing, except now that Zahara doesn’t have a roommate she’s got some boy sneaking into her room each night. The walls are thin, so I hear everything.
Rada mostly sleeps through it, but last night she woke up just long enough to say, “Did that grunt sound a bit like Alaric? I think it did?” Then she drifted off once more.
Amazon Princess Page 17