"Yeah, you. Whoever you are."
"Adam," I said, reverting back to the name I always used when trying to hide my true identity.
He grinned and nodded. "Well, Adam, hurry the fuck up. We can't be late, or we forfeit, and I refuse to lose to Heracles and Perseus like that."
I'd never met the pair in my life, but I'd grown up hearing stories about them and the rest of the gods. The logical side of my nature told me to back the fuck out, that playing drinking games with the gods was a terrible idea. The competitive side of my nature, however, agreed with Dion: we couldn't just lose by default. Whatever this beer pong was, we needed to win.
"All right," I conceded. "Just give me a minute."
As soon as he shut the door, I scrambled into my borrowed clothes. The jeans fit great, hugging me in the ass and thighs while simultaneously leaving room for my dick. The shirt was soft as fuck, accentuating my pecs, biceps, and neck. I couldn't wait to see the look on Alexis's face when she saw me in this. She was going to jump me on sight.
Smirking, I slipped from the room and found Dion leaning against the wall, his arms and legs crossed casually.
"The clothes fit, I see."
"Yeah," I said, looking down to assess myself once more. "Thanks for letting me borrow them."
"No probs, man." He waved an arm over his head. "Let's get this competition started."
I followed him down the stairs, through the dance room with the flashing lights where my egg once sat, and into a dining area of sorts.
The floor was a shiny marble, and a diamond chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling above. Instead of a long table with multiple chairs, though, there were four shorter tables with no chairs. On their tops, at opposite ends, sat two two-dimensional pyramids of... cups. Or so I assumed. They looked like no cups I'd ever seen, and yet I was fairly certain they were filled with beverages. Beer, by the smell of it.
Beyond each table end stood a pair of competitors holding tiny white balls. I had no idea what the hell this game was about, but I was definitely curious.
Dion led us over to the first table, which had the only empty spot. Every other one was filled, meaning there were sixteen of us playing in all.
"Rules," Dion began, pointing past everyone's heads to a giant, glowing canvas with moving letters; it had to have been magical, "are on the wall."
I tried to read them, but none of it made any fucking sense—bouncing, swatting, rollbacks, reracks? Fingering? Dear gods, what kind of a game was this? I had a bad feeling I was going to end up getting zapped by a lightning bolt for real this time.
"Brackets," Dion continued, pointing to another glowing picture that had everyone's names written on it, even mine, "are beside the rules. The tourney lasts as long as it has to. Winners earn bragging rights, and they split the pot. Buy in was a grand, if you recall, so the amount is fairly substantial. If there are no other questions or concerns, we're going to get this party started."
His words were met with a few whoops and shouts of excitement, and soon there were little white balls flying through the air everywhere. I watched as Dion and one of our competitors took their positions, careful not to allow their wrists to pass the table's edge. They stared each other in the eye, and on a silent count of three, they tossed their balls at each other's cup pyramids.
I raised a brow. Interesting.
Both balls landed in cups full of beer. I waited to see what would happen, but nothing did.
The guy's partner removed the ball from the beer cup and shook it dry. Uncertain, I stepped forward and did the same. We did the strange silent count off and let our balls fly. Both of us missed. My ball hit the rim of a cup and shot off to the side, bouncing across the marble floor before disappearing beneath someone else's table.
My eyes went wide. Now what? Was I supposed to go after it? Was I in trouble? There was something about bouncing in the rules, but I didn't know what.
Dion simply pulled another white ball from his pocket and handed it to me. "You better warm up fast, pretty boy. I can't have you missing cups all night."
I nodded. Okay, so getting the balls into the cups was the main idea. I could handle that.
"Who's your partner?" one of the guys across the table from us asked.
"Adam," Dion replied as they silently counted off and made their shots. "Ares bailed."
This time Dion's ball went in, but the other guy's didn't.
"Fuck," the guy shouted.
Dion fist pumped in the air, then turned to me. "All right, Adam, you're up. Don't miss this time."
I chuckled. "Great. No pressure."
I waited for the other guy to count off with me, but this time, he didn't. I guessed I was on my own. I took a deep breath, pulled back, and let the ball fly. Again, it hit the rim of a cup and bounced off.
Dion pursed his lips in my general direction. "Are you one of those guys who can't play sober? Do I need to get you shit-housed a-sap?"
I had no idea what the hell he'd just said. Shit housed? A sap? Like, what was he going to do, cover me in tree sap and shit on me? This game was so fucked up. I knew I should've backed out when I had the chance.
Dion sighed. "Herc, go grab the tequila."
Herc rolled his baby blue eyes and crossed his arms. "Make Percy do it."
"I can't do it," Percy countered. "It's my damn turn."
Herc, which must've been short for Heracles, growled before stomping off.
Percy—or, Perseus, I assumed—took his spot behind the table and shot... sinking his little white ball right into one of our cups. "Drink motherfucker!"
Dion grabbed the cup, removed the ball, and chugged until it was completely empty. Then he set the cup aside, belching loudly, and took his own shot... which, again, sank directly into a cup.
As Perseus grumbled and drank, Heracles returned with a tall, thin glass bottle full of something golden. He cracked open the lid and handed it to me.
I took it uncertainly as an extremely potent odor filled the air, singeing my nostrils and damn near making my eyes water.
"Drink," Dion ordered. "It's your turn next, and I need you on point."
What the fuck was I gonna do? Tell him no?
I cocked my head and tipped the bottle to my lips. The golden shit burned like hell going down, and when I exhaled, it felt like I was blowing flames.
As Herc lined his shot up, Dion gestured to my bottle again. "Again. You clearly need as much help as you can get."
I eyed the nasty shit with curiosity. It was going to help me play better?
As Herc sank his shot into another of our cups, I narrowed my eyes and took a few huge gulps of the liquid fire. If I wanted to kick our opponents' asses, then I needed to not suck. If this fire water would help me to not suck, then so be it.
Heat from the burning drink filled my belly and coursed through my veins, making me a tiny bit lightheaded.
Dion pointed at the cup, which held Herc's ball. "That's your cup, bro. But listen, 'liquor before beer in the clear'. So, before you drink that, you gotta drink a bit more tequila, okay? Just a few more gulps. It'll hit you soon, and we’ll be good to go."
I nodded my partial understanding. More gold stuff equaled a more skillful Asher. Adam. Fuck. I gulped down a bit more of the tequila and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand, handing the bottle back to Herc. When my hands were free, I grabbed the cup of beer and chugged it. I kinda felt like puking, but the more I swallowed, the further down it all went, so I was eventually all right.
Herc nodded approvingly. "So, who invited you anyway? You a friend of Dion's?"
I opened my mouth to lie, but Dion cut me off. "I never met this man in my life. But Affie invited him."
Herc raised a brow. "Aphrodite invited you?"
My mouth fell open.
"Of course, she did," Dion defended. "Can't you tell? He's so pretty. Seff usually goes for the bad boys."
Herc scoffed. "Persephone went for the ultimate bad boy, D. Doesn't get much worse than the ki
ng of the underworld."
Holy shit, I can't believe they actually thought I was invited by Aphrodite or Persephone.
I glanced at Herc and Percy, then over to Dion. After studying them for a moment, I scanned the rest of the room, moving from face to divinely perfect face. The sheer amount of the power in the room would have been enough to strangle me if I'd been paying a damn bit of attention.
I swallowed hard. I needed to win this tournament as fast as possible then get the fuck back to Blackwood before anyone realized I didn't belong there.
Or worse, before Ares returned.
Chapter 14
ALEXIS
It was the middle of the night by the time we'd reached Ebony Chateau.
Exhaustion weighed so heavily on all of us that we'd crashed to sleep in seconds flat, as a group, huddled in Dan's massive four-poster bed—with Criss on the very end, farthest away from me.
By morning, I was still out cold. I hadn't even noticed the sun rising over the watery horizon and climbing up above the cirrus clouds. I hadn't felt the sweltering temperature increase or heard the loud cawing of the gulls.
In fact, it was almost lunchtime when Cal, Criss, and Ben finally decided to rouse the rest of us.
"Wake up," Ben sang in his deep bass voice, instantly drawing a smile from my lips.
Rob groaned from my left and threw a pillow at him, while Dan moaned from my right and buried his head under the comforter. Apparently these two guys were not morning people.
I was neither an early bird nor a night owl, but rather something in between. A robin, maybe, just pecking at the ground whenever I got around to it.
"You better have tea and sweets," I sang back before cracking my eyes open and sitting up.
Gods love them, Ben was already holding a silver platter full of pastries and muffins, and Cal had a white and gold teapot in one hand and a matching teacup in the other.
"You guys are amazing," I said with a sigh as I took a cream cheese tart and a cup of tea.
"Way to make the rest of us look bad, dickheads," Rob grumbled, feeling around the bed for another pillow to throw at them. He was damned lucky that first pillow hadn't toppled over Ben's tray of goodies, or there would have been hell to pay.
Dan tossed the covers off his head and sat up too. "Did you at least bring coffee?"
Criss held up a pot of the potent black stuff. "Got ya covered."
"Thank the gods," he muttered before stumbling from bed and pouring a cup.
As we ate and sipped at our blessed caffeine, Cal strode to the front of the group, his arms carefully tucked behind his back. His blond hair was brushed off to the side so that a few strands dropped down into his clear blue eyes. He had a look of "business" smeared across his face, and I had a feeling we were about to get a lecture.
"We need to send some letters," Cal began. "Starting with Timberlune. We need to explain to the king and queen what happened and see if we can get them to call off the war."
I took a deep breath and shook my head. "Cal, they already said there'd be no second chances."
"We have to at least try, Peach. If you never ask, the answer is always no. But if you do..."
"Then it's still going to be no," Dan finished flatly.
"Fuck you, Dan," Cal retorted without blinking.
Dan just chuckled and rubbed at the sleepies in his eyes.
I smiled at their banter and looked back up at Cal. "Maybe if we tried Bria? She was able to help us once before."
"That's an excellent idea," Cal agreed. "And then after that letter, we need to send one to Eristan. King Solomon will surely back us after all we've done for him."
"Will he, though?" Rob asked, sounding skeptical. "You heard his dignitary at dinner. I have a feeling he's not gonna back shit now that Ben and I are officially married to Alexis."
My stomach sank. I knew that would probably happen, but still, it freaking sucked.
"What about Hydratica?" Dan suggested as he leaned over and poured Rob a cup of coffee. "We could go directly to the twins."
I remembered them mentioning that the Hydratican princes were twins back when we were in Eristan. Camilla had been interested in courting one or the other; either would do, apparently. She just wanted a powerful union, and she didn't really care where it came from. I didn't know the twins' names, though.
"And say what, exactly?" Chrissen asked, his tone curious.
Dan shrugged as he set the coffee pot down and brought his own cup to his lips. "I guess, see if we can strike some sort of a deal or a treaty. A ceasefire, if you will."
Ben rubbed his chin, which had grown some sexy stubble during our journey, and contemplated Dan's words. "It would at least be beneficial to know their stake in this war."
Rob scoffed and ran both hands through his dark hair. "We already know their stake. They've wanted to wipe Sohsol off the map since the apocalypse."
"You mean 'Southern Blackwood,'" Cal corrected sarcastically.
Rob rolled his eyes and flipped him off. "Whatever. My people are the ones they're after. There's not going to be a ceasefire until one side or the other is decimated."
All heat drained from my body, and a thin layer of cold sweat broke out across my skin. Decimated? Like, totally and utterly destroyed? It was one thing to talk about war and strategy. It was another thing entirely to realize countless people were about to die.
"We still have to try," I decided. "If there's even a chance of saving our people, then we have to take it."
Rob's hardened expression softened, and he gave me a fleeting smile before turning back toward Cal. "Fine. Send the letters. I don't think it's going to help, but Jewels is right—it can't hurt to try."
Cal nodded. "We'll also want to send letters to Valinor, Rubio, and Werewood for that exact same reason. We already know they have needs—help with a volcano, precious metals, and beer of all things. I'll get started writing them straightaway. In the meantime, we'll wait for their replies before we make any sort of move. We can't risk messing this up before we even start."
"How long is this going to take, do you think?" I asked, downing a few unladylike gulps of my tea. Madam Annette would have tsked her tongue off.
Cal's lips pursed off to the side. "A couple hours to write the letters, a couple days for them to get there. A few days for the recipients to contemplate and compose a response. Then, a couple more days for the letters to get back. All in all, I'd say... three days to a couple weeks, depending on the country and their distance from us. Why?"
"Well, I just thought that if we have a bit of time to spare while we wait on the letters, maybe we could go ahead and resume the old dates?"
Cal didn't hesitate for a second. "Of course we can, Peach. I didn't realize you were feeling upset about all this."
I shook my head. "I'm not upset. I understand this shit is important—way more important than a silly date. But we're human, or at least partially human, and I think we need to nurture our human connections even in the midst of chaos. It'll help keep us sane."
"Sailor's right," Ben agreed. "It'd be nice to reduce at least some of the stress by having one carefree day to ourselves to just... live."
"Then it's settled," Dan declared, raising his coffee cup. "The dates resume as soon as possible."
Rob stood, bridged the gap between us in one giant step, and grabbed my hand. "I call first date. Starting right now."
"No fair!" Dan shouted.
"Second date!" Cal and Ben yelled at the exact same time.
"Damn it!" Dan growled.
Rob chuckled. "Sorry, bro. Should've been faster."
"So, who's second and who's third?" Cal asked Ben, since they'd technically tied.
I grinned. "Why don't you two go together? I owe you both, anyway." Then I winked.
Cal's blue eyes darkened and fell closed, while Ben bit his bottom lip.
"Sounds good to me," Ben decided.
Dan groaned. "I can't believe I'm fourth. Fourth. How am I supposed to wait th
at long?"
"Uh," Criss said, drawing our gazes. "Can I be fifth?"
"Fuck no," Rob growled from my side, his hand tightening possessively around mine.
But Dan apparently disagreed. "Yes. As long as I'm not last, then yes."
Rob shot the Sea Prince a deadly glare. "You'd let him fuck our girl just so you don't have to be last?"
"Whoa!" Criss shouted, putting both hands in the air. "I never said... that. I just said I wanted to go on a date too."
"Alexis's dates always end in sex," Dan informed him.
"Unless the Storm King fucks it up," Cal muttered.
Ben shook his head. "I've been on a date with her that didn't end in sex."
"So have I," Rob admitted.
"Really?" Dan asked, a smug grin sliding onto his face. "Guess I'm the only lucky one, then."
Everyone glowered at him, even me—though my glare was more challenging than deadly.
"All right, asshole," I said. "When we get to your date, not only will you be last, but it will not be ending in sex."
"What?" he protested indignantly.
But Rob was totally onboard with the idea. "Done!"
"Agreed!" Cal and Ben said, again at the same time. I had no idea why they were on such a similar wavelength that day, but it was kind of amusing.
Criss's eyebrows rose in pleasant surprise. "So, I can go on a date? And I get to be fourth?"
Rob pointed sternly at him. "Don't make me change my mind."
Criss snapped his mouth shut and tried to hide a grin; he failed rather miserably. It made me grin in return.
Rob and I stripped out of our bed clothes and got dressed. Everyone else joined in, too, getting ready for the day ahead. There was a lot of bare skin and flashing body parts. There were a lot of stolen glances and heated stares. Just as I was beginning to wonder if we were going to make it out of there without a full-blown orgy, Rob grabbed my hand and led me toward the door. Clearly, he was eager to get our date started, but before we could get through the arch, Cal stopped us.
"Oh, Peach, one more thing."
I glanced over my shoulder, waiting patiently.
"I'm going to start composing the letters while you're gone," he said, buttoning up a pair of pants. "You don't have a problem with me writing Bria, do you?"
Storm Chaser (Storms of Blackwood Book 3) Page 11