He waved me off. “No need, love. You know I’d do anything for you.”
“Stop right there.” I held up my hand. “You did anything for her. You’ve only known me a few months.”
His eyes softened on me and his lips pursed, making the dimple in his chin flex. It was the look you’d give an adored, recalcitrant child. “Love, we will not go through this again. I’ve known you for eons, yeah? You just don’t remember it.”
“I mean it, Marc. I don’t want that life. I like not remembering.”
He hugged himself and frowned at me, crestfallen. My words were a personal shot, and a little piece of my heart broke. I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings. He was a close childhood friend of hers. My mouth opened to apologize, but he beat me to it.
“See this?” He lifted the little wooden owl. “I had this made to look like the one you gave me when we were little ratbags. It belonged to your father but, get this, you stole it because I said I liked it. When the housekeeper found it in my room, and forced me to face your parents, you stormed over and took the blame. You got beaten so hard you couldn’t sit for a week.” He sighed and rotated it in his hands. “I had the owl recreated on earth to remind me of our friendship. It helped me when you wouldn’t speak after the hunter died. You wouldn’t speak to anyone at all.”
He sighed and placed the owl back on the table then sat at the edge of the bed. “Will you not sit next to me?”
“Sorry.” I shuffled down the bed to him and had déjà vu. Not that long ago, we’d had a similar experience. Days after I’d met him, back in Margaret River, he came to me in a dream and we talked. It felt like a lifetime had passed, yet, none at all. I pinched myself. Ouch! Good. Not a dream.
“Listen, about the remembering part,” he said. “I’ve been talking it over with Lena and we think we’ve come up with a solution. We believe the alchemist can convert Cash’s new blood to something your body will accept and turn you back into Seraphim.”
“I’m not sure if I like that idea.”
“Why ever not?”
“Because an eternity is a long time.”
“Bollocks. Who said it was for eternity?”
“You all did. Seraphim are immortal, right?”
“Fallacy.”
“Huh?”
“We can die. We don’t disease or age, and we know how to party, but we can die. You saw what happened to me with the electric current running through me.”
“Is that the same for everyone?”
“No. But, that’s not the point. We digress. You have to convert because there’s nobody for you to go back to.”
I shrugged. “Maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be.”
He stood and paced the room, inspecting other trinkets. Silence expanded, and I felt as though I’d said something wrong. Terribly wrong. But the more I thought about being one of them, the more distant I felt from my human life.
“There’s something else,” Marc said.
“What is it?”
“I’m the only one who saw your—sorry, her—body crumble into dust. If I can’t bring you—again, apologies, her—back, I could face penalties.”
“You mean, like, prison?”
“Treason. Murder. Death. Take your pick. They all factor into my future if I can’t prove I didn’t kill you. I was alone with you when your—sorry, her body—died. Cor blimey, love, this is getting tiresome. I’ll just say you for the sake of consistency, yeah?”
“Fine. If it’s too hard for your little brain to work out, then go ahead.”
He burst out laughing. An enormous guffaw that filled the room. His appearance flickered between his older and younger self.
“Why are you laughing?” I asked.
“Because that’s exactly something you would say.” He wiped his eyes and sat on the bed. “I miss you Sephie. You’ve been gone a long time.”
I shook my head at the name.
“Your aura can’t hide anymore. There are no other souls in your body. I think they distorted your aura from me, but now, you’re clean. I’d recognize you if I had to stake my life on it.” When I remained close-mouthed, he continued, “You want proof, is that it?”
I lifted a shoulder. “It would be nice to not base enormous life decisions on the word of others, but you know, who needs proof.”
“Seraphina,” he said, blue eyes startling.
An incredible tingling sensation rippled through me. From my head down to my curling toes, the rush of orgasmic proportions left me gasping, eyes wide. My fingers gripped the bed spread. My muscles tightened. I couldn’t think, or move, only feel. Holy mother of Prince. I had to ride it out.
“What the hell was that?” I said, eventually able to breathe.
“When a god’s true name is called on this planet, there is a rush of feel good vibrations. Back in the day, it was as a tool for prayer. But, of course, it got abused and when some Seraphim slaughtered their followers for peace and quiet, we outlawed true names. A true name is a gift handed out to the most trusted of friends. Try it when you have a shag sometime, love. It’s glorious.”
I flopped back on the bed, aftershocks rocketing my body. “I need a moment.”
“Some say it was the universe’s praise for us being here. Next time that happens, concentrate on the direction of the pull. You can follow that sensation to find the person who spoke your name.”
A dread settled over me. “There won’t be a next time. Who else knows my true name?”
Marc shrugged. “Well… you are the queen. Most Seraphim who find out who you are will remember.”
“A few months ago my biggest worry was not getting through my probation. Then the trials. Shit. I didn’t pass!” I looked at him with wide eyes. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to be a breeder.”
“Never mind about that, love. The Game is coming to an end, and as to passing… you’re the queen. You don’t need to pass. You created the Game.”
“God, what has my life become?”
“Jackpot.”
“Huh?”
“You are a god. That’s what your life has become.”
“So, definitely not a Soul-Eater then. Where do my powers come from?”
“Sephie was the greatest soul-scientist. A pioneer in the field. She trained herself in many of the arts, but life-force manipulation was the chief of them. There, there, love. It’s all fine. Now, it’s moments like these that I like eliminate my burdens to feel better.”
I propped myself on my elbow. “How do you do that? And don’t say anything crude.”
“Me? Crude? Never. I was going to say, play a spot of Cricket.”
I snorted. “When have I ever played sport?”
“Badminton?”
I shook my head.
“Tennis? A game of Bridge?”
I laughed.
“Well, then,” he continued, unperturbed. “Let’s forget about the Libertine Ball and go to the pub and get off our trolley until we can’t remember our names. I can have us in London in a jiffy.”
“I’d love to. But I’d love to see Cash. Where is he?”
“He’s hunting your miscreant father and his wayward posse.”
I couldn’t help the disappointment seeping into me. Was it because I was the queen? “He’s gone?”
“Bruce Urser has left the building. Along with a handful of other delinquent Watchers and their House members.”
“Lincoln?”
“He’s been discarded and left behind.”
So much turmoil.
“Is he okay?” I asked.
“He’s fine. He came by with the little pixie girl and left that little horse statue for you.”
I smiled at the thought.
“What will happen to the Ludus?” I asked.
“For now, we need to continue on as normal until we decide.”
“About what?”
“You. There are many, on this planet—and off—who will seize this opportunity of uncertainty and use it for the
ir own gain. Despite what some say about you, you kept the Empire at peace for a long time. Most will follow you whether you are here or there.”
“Bugger. I mean, yay peace.” But I couldn’t help feeling nauseous. An empire I did not want. I barely paid my way. Whatever. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “Who’s room is this, anyway?”
“It used to be mine. Now it’s yours.”
“Marc. I can’t take your room.”
He rounded on me. “Are you refusing a gift?”
“No, it’s not that.” I slid off the bed and straightened my oversized shirt. Probably his, going by the newness of it. He didn’t need physical clothes when he could create them out of dust and air, but he must have a back up supply if the need struck him. I padded over and placed a gentle hand on his arm. “This is your home. A piece of your identity. I can’t take that from you.”
He gazed down at me. “Love, you are my identity.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
MARC LEFT ME to get dressed for the Libertine Ball.
Before he went, he explained what happened while I recovered. After the incident at the amusement park came to light, and a heap of Houses disappeared, a meeting had been called among the remaining Tribunal members. They viewed the security footage from the park before it erasing it. Lincoln had obviously been held hostage, but me? My situation was a little trickier.
They didn’t know what to do with me. If it weren’t for Petra’s existence trapped in a mirror, I’d have no proof someone else had controlled me. Even that was hard to sell until Marc confessed my true identity. Some believed him, others were wary and argued I could be in league with my father. In the end, they deferred to the Gamekeeper’s word.
I couldn’t shake the feeling the evidence stacked up against Urser and my face was the cherry on top. The Tribunal wouldn’t be appeased for long. I’d made more enemies than friends and there was no way I’d go unnoticed now.
That left me between a rock and a hard place starting with the Libertine Ball. Marc said I technically passed the trials because of who I was, but I wasn’t certain he’d conveyed that to the Tribunal.
I placed my finger on the garment bag zip and had the distinct memory of doing the same thing just days ago. My stomach churned. I should’ve fought harder. Who knew what Bruce was up to now. The serum, the list, the star-gate. His disappearance was all too convenient.
I pulled down the zip of the dress bag and gasped. A floor length, silver miracle made of stars whispered out of the bag. I was almost too afraid to put it on, but when I did, I found it fit perfectly. It hugged my curves and flared out at the knees. I was just about to dry my hair when a knock came at the door.
Cash.
When I opened the door, I found two woman with beauty cases. They wore black aprons and their hair was meticulously groomed into a bun at their napes.
“Hiya, I’m Candy,” said the one with black hair, chewing gum. “We’re here to help you get ready.”
“Hi Candy. Um. It’s okay, I don’t need help.”
Both of them stared and appeared offended.
“But we’ve been paid.” Candy sent her companion a nervous glance. “Please.”
“Oh. I guess, okay then.” Candy broke into a grin and I widened the door to let them through.
Twenty minutes later, my steamed and straightened hair had been curled and twirled into a decadent arrangement that trailed down my back. Jewels sparkled in the curls when I moved my head. My makeup had been applied with care and when I finally looked in the mirror, I didn’t recognize myself.
“Before we go, there’s one more thing.” Candy pulled a delicate mask from her bag of wonders. It had tiny white feathers lining the area around the eyes and came to a point over the black tipped nose in the shape of a beak. Gold and silver dappled the surface. It made me think of an owl. When I put it on, it covered the top half of my face, but left my ruby-red lips and flushed cheeks bare.
A masquerade.
Thank my lucky stars I could hide behind the mask all night. That I could do. At least until I spoke with Cash.
My heart clenched. He hadn’t come to see me, but had gone after my father and the other rogue Watchers and Players. Part of me respected that, but the other part—the bigger part—missed him and worried. What if it was like Petra said and he doubted our time together? Was I reading too much into his not being here?
“Thank you,” I said to the girls.
“We’re honored,” she replied.
“You look beautiful Your Majesty.” Her companion made an awkward curtsey.
I shot them both an incredulous look, stifling a groan. How many people knew? My life was officially over.
I followed the women out of Marc’s bedroom and into the living area. The decor was miles more decadent than the Urser living quarters. The sight solidified how important Marc was to the Game, this earth, and now, how important they thought me to be.
I paced around the room, tugging at my mask. I wasn’t their god, their queen, or their leader. I was just me—Laroux Urser from the quiet coastal town Margaret River. I rode a dirt-bike and worked in a bar. My favorite musician was Prince, for crying out loud. I was not the elegant lady I saw in the mirror as I walked past my reflection.
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?
Playing God (Game of Gods Book 3) Page 25