Amazon Princess

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Amazon Princess Page 18

by Kate Karyus Quinn


  So there I was left lying in my bed, hoping for another grunt so I could positively identify it as not Alaric.

  Not because I wanted to be making the mattress squeak with him. But because we were in an alliance and it’d be hard to completely trust his loyalty to me if he’s also secretly part of Zahara’s nocturnal activities.

  “Another night trial,” Zahara says now as she stirs soup. “Do we know anything about it?”

  “Only that Aphrodite designed it,” Alaric says, staring into a cup of coffee.

  I study the two of them, trying to see if they make eye contact or show some sign of being mutually disappointed at having their nightly plans interrupted.

  Relief goes through me when I can detect absolutely nothing there.

  “Ohhhh, Aphrodite,” Sophia says, a naughty smile spreading across her face. “Not too difficult to figure out then, is it? A test in the dark, designed by Venus herself? Too bad Constantine bowed out so early. This might have been his moment.”

  “Don’t count the rest of us out,” Trevor says, stretching his arm to give Sophia an affectionate squeeze. She laughs, and I roll my eyes.

  The other alliances have apparently reached the touchy feely stage; meanwhile I can’t even get Alaric to meet my gaze over the table.

  “What are you even talking about?” I ask. “Why does everyone seem to already know what the test will be?”

  Rada clears her throat. “Aphrodite is the goddess of love,” she explains.

  “Lust would be more accurate,” Trevor says, wiggling his eyebrows at me. “I seriously doubt we’re expected to make someone fall in love with us. No, I’m guessing tonight will be all about who bags someone first.”

  “Puts you in a tough spot, doesn’t it?” Sophia asks me. “With your overactive ovaries.”

  “Oh gods.” I put my forehead down on the table, and feel Rada’s hand on my shoulder, giving me a comforting rub. But it’s not Rada’s voice in my ear as the others file out of the dining hall.

  “Come on, BJ,” Alaric says. “Let’s see if there’s a way for us to get through this trial without losing our dignity.”

  My dignity is the last thing on my mind as we all hunker on a street corner back in the real world. Athena sent us through a portal—next to a fountain of a weird naked dude with ankle wings—letting us know that Aphrodite would be meeting us.

  “How will we know who she is?” Malik asked, to which Athena only laughed.

  And when Aphrodite shows, it’s obvious why.

  Even though it’s cold, and we’re all congregated on a dirty street corner in a questionable part of town, I can feel everyone’s minds turn to one thing and one thing only.

  Sex. The thing is sex. We’re all thinking about sex.

  “Good evening,” Aphrodite says, as she comes to a stop in front of us. She’s wearing six-inch spiked heels and a black trench coat. Something tells me that’s all she’s wearing. Oddly, something else in me desperately wants to get closer, so that I can unbelt it and see for myself.

  I told Rada I’ve never been interested in girls. And that’s true. But this isn’t a girl. This is a woman...and suddenly I feel like my worldview might be expanding. Sexuality is a spectrum, after all.

  That’s not the only thing expanding.

  Malik and Trevor shuffle uncomfortably, their hands in their pockets as they try to hide their arousal. Alaric is the only one of us who meets Aphrodite’s eye, apparently unfazed by her aura…which seems to be soaked in pheromones.

  “Good evening,” Alaric replies to Aphrodite’s greeting, his voice even.

  I feel a sudden rush of affection for him and his icy restraint. Stepping closer to him, I tuck my arm into his elbow, and accidentally brush my chest against his bicep.

  Almost immediately, I’m assaulted by a whole new wave of impulses, none of them directed at Aphrodite. They are most definitely about Alaric. A graphic technicolor scene starts to play in my head and it starts with me throwing him down on the sidewalk right here and finding out how many buttons I can pop off that Oxford with my teeth.

  I hear Malik purring, and turn to find Sophia scratching behind one of his ears, her eyes focused on his mouth. Trevor has a hand curled in Rada’s hair, and while she normally would bounce his ass halfway to Detroit for that, she doesn’t seem bothered at all. She’s staring at Zahara, who looks like she might actually be in the middle of an orgasm. She’s not even touching herself or anyone else—her eyes are just focused on Aphrodite in this half-lidded sort of way. I actually snicker a little, remembering Zahara telling me that the brain is our most powerful sexual organ, ’cause it looks like her super brain is getting her super off right now. I’m so amused at this thought, that I barely pay attention to the fact that I’ve started to take off my clothes.

  “Oh dear,” Aphrodite says, and brings her hands together with a loud crack. We all jump, our minds suddenly clear. “I apologize. I do tend to have that effect on humans,” she adds, with a knowing smile.

  I shake my head, clearing away the images I had of me and Alaric redefining the meaning of Epona’s Bareback Ride and Shoot class.

  “Tonight’s trial will test your ability to influence others, an important quality for a leader to have.”

  “I don’t equate seduction with influence,” Alaric says, his voice cold.

  “Then you haven’t tried it,” Aphrodite says easily. “Sex is a weapon—one that you can wield to your advantage, if you know how.”

  “Or,” Alaric shoots back, “sex is a physical expression of affection between two people who care for one another. Not a power struggle.”

  “Ass,” Trevor whispers under his breath. Sophia giggles, but I can feel a little warmth spreading in my belly. Aphrodite had turned her power off as quickly as she turned us on. No, it’s not the goddess arousing me right now. It’s Alaric.

  “Okay, so what’s the deal?” I ask, stepping forward as I gain more control over myself. “Can we just get this frat party started already?”

  “Most definitely,” Aphrodite says, in a tone that tells me she might have been following my thoughts about Alaric. “Across the street you will see a bar—one of the only businesses still flourishing these days. You will go in, and procure partners. The first of you to seal the deal will be the winner.”

  “Seal the deal?” Trevor asks. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

  “Sadly, no,” Aphrodite says, a pretty pout on her lips. “As you are all minors, Athena would not allow me to design this trial to my own specifications. A kiss will do.”

  “A kiss?” Sophia repeats, baring her fangs. “That’s easy enough.”

  “They have to kiss you,” Aphrodite clarifies. “And I heard about your alliances. No kissing each other to win. The first one to get a kiss from a stranger will be the winner, and will get to choose who they wish to be the loser.”

  “That’s a pretty prize,” Malik whistles.

  “But is it worth the herpes?” I ask. Rada groans.

  “See you, losers,” Sophia says, crossing the street with confidence.

  Zahara is the next one to go. She wears a black dress and her wings are folded to look like an elaborate cape. She is followed by the others, Rada trailing slightly behind, her battlefield swagger somewhat diminished.

  I should be pumped, jazzed, ready to go and already planted on a barstool. But I’m not.

  I look up at Alaric. “This sucks and I don’t want to do it.”

  “I know.” He sighs. “However, as your ally, I feel honor bound to point out that as one of the few contestants with two powers, you will almost certainly be a target for the winner of this contest.”

  I groan, knowing he’s right.

  “Furthermore,” Alaric continues. “I cannot help but notice that Sophia seems to particularly dislike you. I think she would take great satisfaction in stripping your powers from you.”

  “Fine.” I throw up my hands. “Mama did always say that those fairy tales about having to kis
s frogs to get a crown weren’t totally wrong.”

  A teleporting aristocrat and a crazy strong beauty queen walk into a bar. It sounds like the set-up to a joke. But nope, it’s just a totally normal weeknight.

  We stand inside the entrance as a miasma of smoke rises above us and tinny music blares from an old jukebox.

  Rada is at the bar, a very large pitcher of beer in front of her that’s already half gone.

  Malik already has a lady love engaged in conversation, As we watch he trails his hand up and down his conquest’s leg. She looks old enough to be his mother and totally flattered by his attention.

  Sophia’s confidence was not misplaced. She’s got three guys at the pool tables talking her up, while their game has definitely come to a halt.

  “Where’s Zahara and Trevor?” I ask, craning my neck. I spot Zahara by the restrooms, leaning against the wall, one arm casually hanging off the shoulder of a guy who has more metal in his face than the front of an eighteen-wheeler.

  “Do you want a drink?” Alaric asks, but I shake my head.

  Alcohol might make this easier, but it won’t settle my stomach, which is doing flips. I’ve got to get someone to kiss me, and while I know that might be an easy task, there’s no one here I want to consider making a run for. Not without my obvious disgust showing.

  “I think our strategy here is obvious,” Alaric says, turning to me. “I’ll be your wingman to make sure that you get the kiss. As allies you won’t choose to take my power as your winnings.”

  “Wait, what?” I glare up at him. “Why is it obvious that I should get the kiss?

  Alaric seems surprised. “I have to say, I thought you’d be relieved at a trial that plays to your strengths.”

  “My strengths?” I ask, as a man approaches Rada, his buddies egging him on from their table. “And what are those? Being easy?”

  “No, not at all,” Alaric says, and he sounds honest. “What I’m trying to say is, I would think that a woman of your…” He clears his throat, and colors a little. “A woman of your natural attractiveness would thrive in a situation such as this one.”

  “Oh…” He’s not being snarky, or mean. Which leaves me not knowing what to say. “Well, thank you, Alaric. I…the problem is, I don’t want to kiss any of these guys. I might come off as a certain type of girl, but Brandee Jean Mason doesn’t kiss just anybody. I have—”

  I stop mid-sentence as someone across the bar catches my eye. “Alaric,” I grab his arm. “What are the chances that Ryan Gosling would be at this dive bar tonight?”

  Alaric looks in the same direction and then goes absolutely still. “Zero. Damn it. I should’ve guessed Trevor would use his powers. It’s evil and brilliant.”

  “He does seem to like that combo,” I agree. “But you know what this means?” I stab a finger into Alaric’s chest. “I’m gonna be your wingman, so you can get the kiss. If Trevor wins, we both know he’s coming after you. Which means you need to win this one, buddy.” I slide my hand down his chest and grab hold of his hand. “C’mon, let’s go find someone desperate.”

  Alaric pulls away from me. “Hold on. I don’t believe this is our strongest strategy.”

  “Oh, c’mon. You’re acting like you’re so shy, but you locked lips with me two seconds after we met.”

  “A kiss you instigated.”

  “’Cause I thought you were Trevor.”

  “Whom you’d just met earlier that day. He was still essentially a stranger.”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “Let’s not get bogged down in the details here. The main point is that you put your tongue in my mouth before you even properly introduced yourself.”

  Alaric groans. “Yes, thank you for the reminder. It wasn’t exactly my proudest moment.”

  Ouch. That stings. I thought things were maybe changing between us, but clearly he still sees me as the trashy girl he regrets swapping spit with.

  “Fine.” I stick my hand down the front of my shirt and give each of my boobs a boost so they’re just barely within the confines of my demi bra. Then I tug down the neckline.

  Alaric watches silently, his eyes wide. “Brandee Jean—” he starts to say, but I cut him off.

  “I don’t need a wingman, thanks. I’ve got the twins here to help me out.”

  With that I turn on my heel and stride into the crowd. I am desperately aware that the clock is ticking as I scan the crowd. Finally, I locate a boy who looks relatively clean and seems to have a sweet face despite the black gun tattooed across his left cheekbone. Putting a swing in my hips, I head in his direction.

  But before I can reach him, Alaric steps in front of me. “Not him,” he says.

  My hands go to my hips. “How do you even know who I’m heading towards?”

  “It’s the man with a pistol inked across his face,” he responds in this know-it-all tone.

  I hate that he’s right, but refuse to let him see it. “Yep, that’s the frog I’ve chosen. So what do you think, partner?” I force myself to smile up at him. “When he kisses me, should I return the kiss with a closed or open mouth?”

  Alaric’s giant hands close around my upper arms, at the same time he leans down to growl in my face, “You are not kissing him.”

  I jerk away from Alaric, my heart racing. For a moment there I was tempted to kiss Alaric again. But that would not help me win this contest. More importantly, I don’t want him calling it another mistake.

  “I gotta kiss someone,” I say at the same time that someone cries out at the bar.

  I turn in time to see Rada break her pitcher of beer over a guy’s head. Whatever his come-on line was, it obviously doesn’t work on Amazons. His buddies rush to his aide, and Malik shifts with a mighty roar. His date screams and falls right out of her chair, but Malik is already leaping away, his claws leaving drag marks on the wooden floor.

  Meanwhile, a slap rings out. I turn just in time to see that Trevor is now wearing George Clooney’s face. Maybe the girl prefers older men. Or maybe he just couldn’t resist showing off. Either way, the girl is not impressed.

  I look over just in time to see her reach for Trevor’s neck. He struggles, but can’t seem to pull her off.

  “Bit off more than he could chew,” Alaric mutters as he pushes past me and starts to move in Trevor’s direction.

  If Trevor was my brother, I’d be going over there to see if the girl needed help finishing him off. But it’s clear that Alaric is planning a rescue.

  A rescue that Trevor doesn’t need.

  In the blink of an eye, he changes into a snake and slips between the girls hands, onto the floor.

  Even though it’s Trevor, I quickly jump onto a chair. I really can’t stand having creepy crawlies wiggling around my feet.

  I’m not the only one moving for higher ground, Sophia leaps onto the pool table. It’s not Trevor she’s trying to escape, though. I watch as she breaks a pool cue over her knees and then points the jagged pieces at the men she’d been flirting with.

  Her eyes flash as she addresses them. “You think it’s a kindness to tell me I look like an expensive whore and you’re not sure if you can afford me?”

  There’s a rumble of thunder that almost sounds like a chuckle from Rada, but on second look, she’s cracking beer bottles over heads left and right. So maybe not.

  Malik’s been helping her, but when he hears Sophia, he whirls around and charges to her side.

  “Come on, lowlifes!” Sophia yells, leaping onto the floor while jabbing at the men with her improvised weapons. “Grow some balls and fight me. Then you’ll see how blue my blood runs!”

  “Gods,” Alaric says as he teleports back to my side. He pushes me behind him so that his body is between me and the riot that’s breaking out.

  I search the crowd, scanning for Zahara. The harpy has her date completely entranced, his gaze not even leaving her face.

  From behind me, there’s a scream. I glance over my shoulder and see that Sophia has stabbed one of the guys with
her pool cue.

  “Bitch!” he snarls.

  I glance back at Zahara as she gives her date a slow, practiced smile. In response, he leans in, presses his mouth to hers and—

  We’re all back on the corner, Aphrodite giving us a quizzical stare. Rada is self-healing a bloody welt on her hand, the internal glow almost immediately closes up the gash from the broken beer pitcher.

  “Not what I would have expected,” she says. “Well done, harpy. The repulsiveness of your face is only testament to the powers of your seduction. To get a man to overlook that…” She shakes her head. “I’m impressed.”

  “How did this happen?” Trevor asks, just as the fight we’d started in the bar spills out onto the street. Fists are flying and someone shouts, “Over there!” when they spot us.

  “Time to go,” Aphrodite says, snapping her fingers once more. We’re instantly back at Amazon Academy, standing on the archery field in our late night clothes.

  “Now Zahara,” Aphrodite says, “It is time for you to choose the loser. The field is yours, my dear. You may pick which power you find most useful.”

  But Zahara only shakes her head. “I don’t want to take a power. My win was not accomplished in a fair way. I would rather choose a different prize.”

  “What do you mean it wasn’t fair?” Aphrodite stomps her foot, her temper rising. “You kissed a stranger and you won and I declare you the winner. You will take a power and you will like it!”

  “Nonsense,” Athena’s voice booms out across the archery field, as she appears from behind one of the targets. “Sister.” She smiles sweetly at Aphrodite, but there’s no love in it, or her words. “You created this trial. You declared they must kiss a stranger and that is indeed what Zahara did.” Athena turns her hard gaze on Zahara. “But it was not the first time you kissed this stranger, was it?”

  Athena snaps her fingers and Zahara’s boy from the bar is suddenly among us. Now, up close, with better light on his face, I immediately recognize those cheekbones. And the sparkle.

  Trevor does too.

  “My gods! It’s my mentor!” He stalks up to the faerie. “You traitor. How can I trust you knowing that you’ve been bumping uglies with that ugly?”

 

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