Playing God (Game of Gods Book 3)

by Lana Pecherczyk

  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t end your game right now,” he growled.

  Petra moved my body then. I thought she would attempt to rescue Ava, but she didn’t. She used the distraction to get to the fallen Epsilon boys. First, Val, with his shaved head. A syringe manifested in my hand. She must have had it hidden in our clothes. The black-filled needle disappeared into Val’s forearm, and then Rus’s. Movement rippled beneath the surface of their skin as though fish swam underneath.

  Val tensed and contorted. He slapped a palm to his eye and twitched and groaned.

  Rus seized and moaned, tugging his hair with both hands. “Get it out.”

  Petra said something to them. Both sets of eyes were dark, black liquid, and confused. Petra spoke again until they focused on us, listening. Then they picked up their electrical cables and straightened with purpose.

  Val exposed his new sharp teeth in a snarl. His eyes weren’t human anymore.

  Cash’s gaze whipped to the boys. He shoved Ava, and she collapsed, gasping, hand fluttering to her throat.

  “I smell witch,” Cash said, eyes wide, a crease etched between his brow.

  Petra laughed. “Close. Try again.”

  In slow motion, I watched Ava get to her feet, eyes trained on Cash. He didn’t see her hands wrap around a length of cable. He missed her snapping the length, testing it. She looped the cable over his head and yanked it across his neck.

  Cash.

  His thumbs came up between the cable and his skin, but it was no use. Ava pulled with all her might, determined to choke and strangle him.

  My body walked toward him as Ava pulled him away. His legs struggled to retain a footing. His face reddened and his veins popped as he tried to breathe. Ava held him steady against her, open to me. I almost died when my hands, powerful and laden with energy, struck Cash’s jaw. His head whipped back at the neck, yet his eyes never left mine. In them, a collision of emotions—betrayal, desperation, anguish—all directed at me.

  “Hunter of witches.” Petra backhanded him. “Who’s hunting who now?”

  Cash stopped struggling and spit blood to the side, thumbs still caught between the cable and his neck. If Petra expected a response, he didn’t give it to her.

  So she punched him in the stomach. A hollow grunt came out of him with the wind. She did it again.

  My hands.

  Hurting him.

  “How does it feel, hunter?”

  He glared daggers at me.

  A cackle came from my mouth. “You’ll always wonder, won’t you? No matter what happens next, you’ll never be certain. How much of our time together was her, how much of it was me.”

  Cash’s eyes widened as the horror hit him.

  Stop it.

  “Every time you kissed her, touched her, bedded her. Was it really her… or was it me?”

  No.

  She laughed again. This time, Ava joined in. The new monsters behind me snarled.

  “You’ll never be able to stand her company again.”

  You stupid cow! I screamed. Bitch! It was me. It was always me.

  “You’re deluding yourself if you think you can connive your place into our world.” Cash’s raspy voice was almost too quiet to hear. “You’ll never be Seraphim. Even if you get there, they’ll see you for what you are, a cheap carbon copy.”

  “Shut up!” I watched as Petra struck him again. Blood dripped from split skin over his puffy eye.

  “Sore spot, Petra?”

  She hit him again: In the stomach, in the chest, in the face. Pound after pound of fist into his body.

  A noise at the door broke our focus.

  “Alright, alright, Little Red. I know what you’re thinking.” Marc sauntered through into the café, oblivious to anything but his pride. He shielded his eyes as he peered into the shadow, trying to see into the dark room. “You called me here to tell me I can’t run from my problems. I’ve got to face them head on, yeah? I know, I know. There’s got to be a point in every god’s life where… what the bloody hell is going on here?”

  Marc’s hands dropped from his face as he took in the scene: Ava held Cash as my fists pummeled into him, Lincoln still frozen, gasping for air, and two bodies from Epsilon House with darkness in their eyes.

  Marc’s jaw dropped.

  Then Rus and Val advanced on him with their cables extended.

  “Now, wait just a minute.” Marc held his hand out. “Think twice before you leap. You attack me, and I end your game.”

  But they didn’t change course. They moved toward him with dogged determination. Marc’s usual jovial face morphed into violence.

  He waved toward Val, but shock flashed on Marc’s face. Something was supposed to happen and didn’t. “What the hell?”

  Petra laughed. “Their souls are anchored in their bodies. You can’t separate them.”

  “Then I’ll entangle them.”

  “Too late.”

  At either side, the two boys forced their live cables into Marc’s body. A mighty roar filled the air with the sizzle and crackle of electricity. He seized, fingers cramping, jaw clenching, hair smoking. He dropped to his knees with the same betrayal in his eyes that Cash had a moment ago.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  “WELL, I’D SAY our experiment was a success.” Petra hooked my finger under Marc’s chin to tilt his head toward us. Electricity surged from Marc into my body, tingling. The cables kept him from teleporting, and the current blocked his ability to clothe himself in illusion. The only thing around his naked body was a cord at his neck with a small vial at the end. He’d toyed with it when I’d found him on the park bench, and Petra had told Urser about it. What was it?

  Marc groaned, rolled his head and opened his piercing blue eyes. “Love, what’s going”—he narrowed his eyes. “Wait, you’re not Little Red.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Who are you, and what have you done to her?”

  “Oh, she’s still in here somewhere.” My finger tapped my forehead. “Move him next to the hunter.”

  Val and Rus dragged Marc to where Cash had been secured to a bar stool by the cord around his neck. He barely retained consciousness. Blood oozed from his wounds. They did the same to Marc, but fixed the live ends of the cables to his skin so the electricity constantly ran through him.

  Ava stood to one side of the two, arms folded, pleased with herself. The two boys stood to the right, eyes black, vacant. I didn’t think Ava pieced together what had happened to her Epsilon companions. Sure, she knew they looked feral, had sharp teeth and black eyes, but she hadn’t worked out that she could be next. It was the same darkness that had been injected into the boy we rescued back in Houston. The substance that turned him into a homicidal, drug addicted maniac. Cash said that in his memories, he’d seen it before, back when he was the queen’s enforcer. The prince had stolen original sin and fused it with himself before he infected the first humans. Through his link, he could control them.

  But these two had their wits about them and they didn’t leak blackness everywhere. They were less rabid, less feral. More compliant and receptive.

  “You see,” Petra said. “We’ve always known she was special, but we didn’t come close did we?”

  Marc tried to speak, but everything in him fought the electricity. It was all he could do to keep from passing out.

  “It’s okay. Don’t worry, I can answer for both of us. You’ve been keeping secrets from us, Gamekeeper.”

  This was a horrible, horrible nightmare.

  I couldn’t watch. But I couldn’t close my eyes. They were her eyes now.

  “First, we thought she was just a special Nephilim and that we would use her unique skill set to borrow the abilities we needed—to steal your soul, Gamekeeper—and move through the in-between to travel back to the Empire and open the star-gate there. I mean, she had a piece of your soul already, she could move with you, right? It could have worked.”

  “Bitch,” Marc managed. “F
ilthy degenerate.”

  “I’m more than that. I’ve discovered we don’t need you anymore. Not with that around your neck.”

  “This?” Ava walked over and tugged on his necklace, ripping it free. The venom in Marc’s eyes could have poisoned her where she stood. One of the most powerful gods on earth could vaporize her with a thought. Instead, Ava was free to turn the vial around in her fingers, inspecting it. “What’s all the fuss about?”

  “Give it to me,” Petra ordered, holding my palm out.

  Ava narrowed her eyes at me. “Tell me what you’ve been keeping from me. First the boys, and now this. I’m starting to believe I’m not important in your little scheme. What’s stopping you using that serum on me?”

  My teeth ground with Petra’s frustration. “Give it to me, and I’ll explain.”

  “It’s to heal the hunter,” Marc blurted, through chattering teeth. “Give it to him, and I’ll take you to the Empire, Ava. I’ll give you anything you want.”

  Ava glanced at Marc, confused. “Why would I need you to take me back to the Empire? If this plan works, then I can take myself back.”

  “It’s a bit late for bribes, Gamekeeper,” Petra said. “There’s more to the vial, though, isn’t there, Egnatius.” Marc’s body entered into a fit. The true name-calling triggered bio-electric waves that surged through him, amplifying the wattage already pumping. When he finished, his eyes locked on mine, defeated.

  A slight burning smell raked the air.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  “Whose blood is it?”

  Marc’s lips flattened closed.

  “Oh you poor love sick puppies. Stop lying to protect her. I was there when you called her Sephie. I remember you ogling that vial, over and over again. Tell me what it’s for.”

  Marc spat on the ground. “You’ll pay for this.”

  “Give me the vial, Ava. You know you’re too important for the serum. We’d never inject you like those two.”

  Ava threw it.

  My hand snatched the vial out of the air and pulled the stopper off.

  “Don’t touch it,” Marc growled, struggling against his restraints. Fire erupted at his fingertips, ready to throw our way.

  “Restrain him, you dolts.”

  The two Epsilon monsters took hold of Marc’s wrists. Marc screamed as bones crushed, and the flames died out.

  My finger pressed onto the opening of the vial, tilted, and came away red. A resounding tingle shot from the tip of my finger up my forearm. Petra brought my finger to my mouth and licked. Everything inside me shivered and knocked about, charged with something, an echo of understanding. A whirring as memory tried to click in place. Whatever it was, it powered me. Not her me, but me me! Inside my confines, my energy swelled. But as quickly as it rocketed through me, it left.

  Petra stumbled, eyes closed, and she sighed. “That was incredible. The power. Why do you have the blood?” Petra asked. Marc ignored her. A scream ripped from my throat. “You want me to force it out of you, is that it? Shall I start with him?” My finger pointed at Cash.

  Marc turned away. “I already told you why I have it.”

  “Are you forgetting, Gamekeeper? I can read auras like you. I can tell you’re lying.”

  That was news to me. I thought the blood was for Cash.

  “Fine. Have it your way.” Petra used telekinesis to bring multiple objects from the server bench and floated them toward Cash and Marc. Metal napkin holders, utensils, coffee machines, all levitated into the air, hovered, and then shot toward Cash’s body. With his thumbs still lodged under the cable around his neck, he was powerless to protect himself. Projectile after projectile collided with him. The dull sounds sickened me.

  I screamed from my prison. I threw all my power and energy into that scream and pushed against my restraints, reaching for Cash.

  My body doubled over, stumbled. Petra was tired.

  Containing The Others had been tiring for me. And usually, when exhaustion overwhelmed me, The Others had been stronger. But this time, I was stronger. It wouldn’t be long now.

  I knew The Book of the Dead. Apparently, I bloody well wrote it, and—I looked around—I had reflective surfaces, mirrors on the wall, and life-force was another form of electricity, and if that didn’t work, those cables were full of it. I could split her from Leila. Get her out. If I was truly the queen, then I needed to trust my instincts. And I needed that vial of blood. One taste had almost tipped me into knowing. Even now, my body cried out for it, but just thinking about it, a stronger, more powerful understanding squeezed my heart; Cash needed it more.

  I glanced at Cash. He groaned and coughed, making a gurgling sound.

  Don’t look at him. Don’t look at his broken and beaten body.

  Don’t think about how long it would take him to heal without the queen’s blood. How he wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for me ignoring his instructions. But it wasn’t over yet. I needed help. Leila was driving up front with Petra. She was weaker than Petra, but every time I’d noticed a sign of my sister, it had been after The Others had taken my body for a spin, but before I’d regained control. Leila might be stronger when Petra was tired. Like now.

  Fight.

  Fight, damn it.

  Leila, help me fight!

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  LEILA HEARD ME.

  Fight, Leila. Join with me and fight!

  I threw myself at freedom. Reached for Cash, Marc, the living world beyond my cage.

  Petra stumbled forward, a step closer to Cash. My connection to the living flared with his proximity. Pictures focused with sudden clarity.

  Again.

  Join with me!

  Leila strained to connect with me, and I her. I could feel her soul through a veil. The closer we got, the more I distinguished Petra’s grittier aura next to her lighter soul, coating it with thick darkness. Leila pushed toward me. I pushed back. So close.

  Again!

  Petra stumbled and shuffled my body, losing control. Only a few feet in front of Cash.

  “No!” she cried, taking hold of my head between my hands.

  To the outside world, the one beyond my body, it all happened in a matter of seconds. But inside, it felt like an eternity. Petra and I battled with our wills. I was stronger closer to Cash, even more so with the help of my sister propelling me forward. But I couldn’t quite break the barrier holding me. Like a rubber sheet bowing when I touched it, I couldn’t get through.

  Cash saw what was happening and lashed out with his foot, tripping me up. My body fell forward, hands shooting out to break my fall. I collided with his body—my soulmate. With our tactile contact, my hope bloomed, and it gave me the power to reach through the elastic barrier, to take control.

  Momentarily, Petra and I occupied the same space. A beat in time as big as the universe. Something The Others said at the airport came back to me. I had been pining over my last few dollars and they’d snickered, Control is an illusion.

  I didn’t believe that.

  My name is Roo. My hair is brown.

  I’m not an evil witch. I’m not a Soul-Eater. I’m not the friggin’ queen. I’m me!

  “My name is Roo.” I ordered my hands to reach for a cable fixed into Marc. “My hair is brown!” I grasped and gave an almighty heave. The cable tore free. With one side gone, the other dislodged. Instantly, Marc dematerialized. I caught the flailing power cords and pressed both live-wires to myself, one on each thigh. Electricity ripped through me. Intense power quaked. My heart convulsed in my chest. Everything inside me seized, including the souls. I cleaved down the middle of them with my surging power, splitting them in two. But they were still there and Petra had already taken control of my body, she could do it again. I had to get them out. With immense effort, I ripped the cables from my thighs and collapsed in a heap. I smelled like barbecued pork.

  For a minute, I thought Marc had left us, but he reappeared behind the two Epsilon boys and placed a hand around
each neck. His aura amplified, stinging my eyes with its potency. Flames engulfed all of them, licking up their bodies with crackling heat. Then Marc lifted his gaze to mine, through the roaring fire, and then he simply wasn’t there anymore. Grains of disintegrated clothes and dust fell in a cascade to the floor. The boys were gone. All that was left was a pile of smoking ash where each of them had stood.

  A movement to my side brought my attention around. Half expecting to see Ava, I crouched into attack mode, but it was Cash. Still tied to the chair by the neck, thumbs hooked behind the cord to save his breath. The rest of him was bruised and battered.

  “Cash.” I grit my teeth and ordered my hands and legs to move. Petra still fought me for control, but I forced my legs to shuffle to his side, placed my heated fingers on the neck restraint and seared through it.

  “I’m so sorry.” Tears burned my eyes as his heavy body tumbled into my arms. I held him tight, not sure what to do. Unable to sense his aura, I pushed my index finger under his jaw to look for a pulse. It was there. Barely.

  “We need medical help,” I said.

  Cash moved in my embrace, and a sound came from his throat. He was trying to say something.

  “What is it? Are you okay?” My eyes stung. Please say yes.

  “Lincoln,” he rasped.

  “Oh shit.” I turned around to see Lincoln frozen in air.

  I sent a mass of energy his way and broke through the barrier Petra had placed on him. He collapsed to the floor. Alive, breathing, but trembling with fear.

  I held up my palms. “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you. It’s me, Roo.”

  As the words came out of my mouth, I knew they weren’t true. The souls writhed and swirled inside me. We occupied the same space, and I held control through sheer will. I had to get them out, I had to be sure Petra couldn’t take over again.

  Cash rolled to his side on the floor and moved into a fetal position. We needed help. His injuries were extensive. I couldn’t help him.

  “Cash,” I whispered and placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get you help. As soon as Marc returns, I’ll get him to send for help.”