The Devil Inside (The Game of Gods Book 2)

by Lana Pecherczyk

  I breathed heavily through my nose. Words wanted to come out. Red pain wanted to be inflicted, but a sound and her scent restrained me. I shoved him one last time before I let go. I moved to Roo and bent down to gently guide her up. She grabbed her shoulder and winced, flinching back from me, resisting.

  “What did he do to you?” I asked.

  The dark look she gave me felt like a tangible slap in the face. I stepped back.

  “You don’t have to be such a jerk about it. I accidentally dislocated my shoulder during training. It wasn’t Jed’s fault. He just had to pop it back in and then he was nice enough to take my mind off the pain while it healed.”

  “I’ll bet.” I rounded on Jed who’d gone to the kitchen to help himself to some water.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Jed glowered back at me.

  “What it means is that if you were doing your job, she would never have been in a situation where her arm was strained enough to dislocate.”

  “My job? Have I missed something, or is it my job to mentor her?”

  “Fuck off.”

  “Well, you weren’t here were you. Why don’t you show her how to do the basic lock and throw maneuvers?” Jed slammed his empty glass back on the granite bench top. The sound reverberated through the silent room.

  I exhaled and pinched the bridge between my nose. I was blowing this all out of proportion. Never mind that I assumed there was something else going on behind the closed doors. They didn’t need to know that, and I’d be damned if I told them.

  “I thought you were under attack.” I gave Roo the full force of my attention.

  She stood up and flexed her fists.

  “I didn’t say that. I tried to ask when are you coming back, but the line didn’t work.”

  As if I could explain what happened, I walked over to the side-table where the cordless phone rested and picked it up. The handset was destroyed. Utterly mangled. I pinned Roo with my wild gaze.

  Her large honey-brown eyes flared a moment, glimmering with a challenge her pink, pouty lips echoed. If I didn’t think it were illogical, I’d believed she wanted a volatile reaction from me, as though she’d planned it all along. Why?

  “You did this?” I lifted the phone.

  She shrugged. “It was an accident. I got… upset. I told Nell I wanted to know when you’d be home. That’s all.”

  “Why did Nell tell me you were under attack then?”

  “How would I know?”

  I took another look at the phone. The plastic length had melted and warped where her fingers would’ve been. Black smokey lines radiated from those spots. I cast a glance at Jed.

  Jed frowned, but shrugged and returned to his drink, dropping his gaze.

  Right. Not your problem. Message received, loud and clear.

  Roo was my concern, and I needed to speak with her privately.

  I pulled out a business card from my wallet and handed it to him. “I’m sorry I jumped you. If you still want training, I need to you go to this address. My team needs help sweeping another site. Maleficent homicide.”

  Jed lifted his brows but took the card. Did he expect a gold plated invitation? I explained: “I have the funeral. I can’t go. I’d appreciate having someone I trust there to oversee things.”

  Recognition flooded Jed’s eyes. “Right.”

  “Asap.”

  Jed disappeared down the hall but I remained to remove the Scotch from the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard. I could feel her eyes on me, tracking me. Waiting. It was clear she set me up to bring me here. Was it also a far stretch to believe she set up the position she’d be in with Jed so that when I arrived, I mistook the situation? As I retrieved a glass, I thought handling the ex-sergeant was easy. Handling Roo—not so much. Every move I made, I was hyper aware of her presence. Knowing she watched me sent a lick of heat up my spine. Her glower coated me with tingling guilt.

  I poured an inch of the amber liquid into the glass and felt that guilt grow heavy. Then I shot it back. The burn hit the back of my throat and instantly spread to my extremities, slowly unwinding my tension. I took another shot, returned the bottle to the cupboard, then cleaned my glass and let it air dry on the rack.

  I could do this. Just not with Jed in the house.

  Why was he taking so long?

  The silence stretched between us.

  “Are you packed?” I finally asked.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you want to know what’s been happening while you’ve been gone? It’s been over a week.”

  The muscles in my jaw drew tight as my teeth clenched.

  I allowed myself a glance down the hall toward Jed’s room and then flicked back to Roo. Her eyes lit up a fraction and her face slackened. Then something clicked inside her and she nodded.

  “I’ll go and finish packing,” she said and left.

  I did the same, retreating to my room to hastily pack an overnight bag. After Jed had left, I counted to ten in my head and then went to knock on Roo’s door. As I lifted my hand, the door swung open.

  “I’m ready.” She pushed passed me.

  Her body brushed me as she strode into the kitchen where she lay her overnight bag down. She busied herself with extracting a set of papers and set them down on the kitchen bench.

  Although my heart skipped a merry dance, my feet were rooted to the floor, paralyzed at the sight of her. The late sun shone through the high loft windows and cast her body into a silhouette that glowed softly around the edges. As she read her notes, she ran her heated fingers through the ends of her hair, changing them from a wet, dark auburn to a dry, bright ember. Steam curled from her fingers and the scent of her fruity shampoo punched me in the stomach. Beautiful, she was beautiful. Her lips were rosy and plump, her glistening eyes, large and framed by thick black lashes and I’d better stop looking otherwise she’ll think I’ve got a learning problem.

  But I got stuck on the site of her tailored black dress. It gave the impression she wanted respect, but from the way it hugged her curves, and the way she filled it out, I wanted to slide up the hem and run my fingers until the fabric bunched indecently. Tommy’s glistening metal chain dangled around her neck. The key landed heavily between the dip of her breasts. The sight of that object almost ripped a possessive growl of approval from my throat. It meant that she cared for me. At least, cared about that small part of me that had the ability to care back.

  I swallowed. Christ was I in trouble. I already knew I was attracted to her, but now I was lost. Something folded when I thought she was in danger, and now, every neuron in my being was drunk on her.

  But her avoidance of eye contact brought the shame of my recent behavior surging to the surface. I wasn’t worthy of her. I wasn’t. Gods, I was fucked up. One minute ready to pounce on her, ravage her like a beast, then the next, ready to leave.

  My heart thumped erratically.

  “Not that you care, but I’ve been researching your history,” she said and nodded to her papers. “I think I’ve found something. I’ve been speaking with Marc and—”

  “When did you see Marc?”

  She pursed her lips at the interruption. “Oh, I don’t know, sometime in the ten or so days you weren’t here?”

  “Has it really been ten days?”

  Her blank stare was answer enough.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She ignored my apology. “He left me stranded at some closed local nightclub.”

  “He what!”

  Roo flinched at my furious tone but she lifted her chin in defiance. “He took me to this
place, which was fine, because we talked and I think he needed someone to bounce things off, but then he forgot to take me with him when he left. Thank goodness the nightclub was closed, and they had working phones. If Jed hadn’t come and picked me up, I’d have been left in a very precarious position.”

  “Precarious.”

  “Mm-hm.” She wouldn’t meet my eyes which meant only one thing, Marc had left her stranded, nude.

  The idea floated around my head, punching all sorts of nonsense out. What did she look like? Had Marc seen? Had anyone else seen her naked?

  She kept talking, but I didn’t really hear her words, because I was stuck on one: naked. What game was Marc playing at? Leaving her in a foreign place, in an empty bar, nude. Completely inappropriate. I scrubbed my face as I tried to temper my rage. Breathe in. Breathe out. But the beast that was my anger crawled up my spine and raked at my heart.

  “Tell me everything.” I went back to the cupboard and, again, pulled out the half empty bottle of Scotch, this time with two glasses. I poured a nip in each then handed one to Roo. “Start at the beginning. With Marc. What happened?”

  I would control myself. I would.

  She swirled the amber liquid, similar to her eye color, and then explained how Marc had visited, concerned about being followed. As the story unfolded, I almost forgot Marc’s blatant disregard for her decency. The news worried me the most. Marc was not one to entertain flights of fancy. If he believed he was being followed, he probably was. Roo then went on to mention Marc wanting to plant a seed to discover if Jed was a traitor.

  “To be honest,” she said, “this whole thing is giving me the creeps. I’m not sure if I’m ready to play this Game business you all keep talking about. He told me to mention the Heart Scarab to Jed and then see if that filtered back to whoever he’s wanting it to filter too.”

  “Go on,” I prompted and slid out a stool near the kitchen bench for Roo to sit on.

  For some reason, she stopped. She stared at the stool. She stared at me. The simple action of pulling the chair out for her did something and her eyes glistened. I said her name softly, a prayer falling from my lips. I touched her hand gently to show her that, while I had not the appropriate words, I wanted her to know I was thankful for her. She blinked down at our hands and then told me how lost she’d felt without me over the past week. She lifted her eyes to meet mine.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “For everything. I’ve been a complete jerk.”

  Her scowl dropped, and she exhaled sharply. Slowly, she turned her hand to tighten around mine, then raised her other palm and pressed it gently to the center of my chest. My heart pounded against her steady weight.

  “You don’t need to apologize,” she whispered.

  Heat exploded beneath her touch. “There’s no excuse for how I’ve treated you.”

  “Yeah, I agree. You’ve been a giant douche. Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you instead of keeping secrets?”

  My hand tightened around hers as if she might let go. I searched her dewy eyes, hoping to see evidence of her true feelings, some sort of validation I was wrong about her, that she didn’t like me. “You deserve better than this. Than me. You shouldn’t have to be afraid in your own home.”

  “Is that what you think?”

  “You can’t lie to me; I hear your heartbeat elevate every time I’m near. It’s obvious you’re afraid of me.”

  Roo started laughing. A whooping, melodious, hysterical laughing. She doubled over, clutching her stomach.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “If you think that’s why my heart races when you’re around…” She wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, watching me with light still bouncing in her eyes. Then all humor fled, and she drew grave. “Cash, you may have your sight returned, but you’re still blind if you can’t see the real reason my heart leaps out of my chest when we’re together.”

  I glanced at the floor, letting her words sink in.

  “But, you deserve better,” I said.

  “I don’t want better, Cash.” She inched closer to me until her nose touched my cheek, her breath tickling. “I want this.”

  On a frown, I squeezed my eyes shut and reveled in the warmth radiating from her. Her feminine smell sent waves of pleasure skipping down my spine. I could feel her pulse quicken, hear it plump in her vein and hit the chain. My chain. It was all I could do to keep standing.

  Suddenly, I felt the press of her soft lips on the corner of my mouth. My eyes fluttered open.

  “Stop running away,” she breathed.

  If only she knew how she affected me, but I never had the right words.

  I supposed I could show her.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Marc

  I SPENT THE next few days dodging slippery shadows and ignoring Jacine’s call to return to Purgatory to collect souls. Whenever I felt my bones grow cold, or the air thickening, I moved on to another location. I’d exhausted all of my usual haunts and go-tos: The girls at a Columbia University Sorority; The pub on the corner of Lexington and First; The karaoke bar in the heart of Tokyo. I was beginning to feel a bit barmy when nothing actually happened. No stranger turned up. No sinister shadow came to life. If it weren’t for Little Red confirming my suspicions, I’d say I was completely off my rocker.

  If I didn’t sort this out soon, I’d wind up bonkers.

  Finally, on the afternoon of the second day, or somewhere there about, I decided to carry on with my original plan and visit Eve in person. She hadn’t been hard to find, practically advertised herself to the world by running that article. All I needed to do was sweet talk the magazine’s administration through a well timed dream.

  Now here I was standing at the front of her house.

  If the darkness followed me, well, I could handle myself.

  Walking up the steps of the inner city London townhouse, I shot a quick glance down my front. Once happy with my chosen form (my younger and less recognizable self, dressed in that lucky dapper three-piece suit), I knocked on the large wooden doors. A life-force approached from behind it.

  Average sized, and definitely human.

  “Yes?” The door opened to reveal a woman. Tall, dark and drab. Definitely the maid.

  “I’m looking for Eve, love.”

  “I’m sorry, but she—”

  “Let him in, Karen.” A woman’s voice carried from somewhere behind. The maid adjusted her high-knot of gray hair and pursed her lips in distaste. She gave me a withering once-over then opened the door wide.

  I concentrated on the second aura now evident toward the back of the house. This one was stronger, calming, soothing. Not at all like what I’d come to expect from a witch.

  That was the first thing that threw me off.

  “Very well. Follow me.” Karen turned her back on me and walked further into the immaculate Art Nouveau styled home. From the doorway, I could see a sweeping metal staircase with floral ornaments and a drop chandelier dangling from the high ceiling. I stepped into the house. I shut the door behind myself and then, with a confident swagger, followed Karen. This was way too tasteful for a witch.

  Two doors down was a sitting room. Inside, various board games had been set up on tables before walls of bookcases. Some of them were classic, some of them new. From Risk, to Warhammer, to Twister. I recognized an unboxed set of beer pong, the same set I played at the sorority yesterday. My eyebrows lifted in curiosity and I itched to investigate what other games she had hidden away, but my attention drew to the woman I recognized from the magazine article sitting in front of a chess board, th
inking.

  “I’ve been wondering when you would show your face,” she said without looking up.

  “Pssht.” I laughed through my nose. I couldn’t believe her cheek. As if. I snorted. “You don’t even know who I am.”

  Eve squinted at the game, nonchalantly ignoring me. Her fingers hovered over a bishop, then moved to a knight, finally landed on a pawn and moved it two paces on the black. She glanced up and briefly met my eyes before returning nonplussed to the game. “Of course I do.”

  When I said nothing, she added, “In either form you care to appear in.”

  My skin crawled. Bloody witch. Bloody stinking rotten witch.

  “Now, before you start setting profanities loose in your mind, perhaps you’d benefit from sitting down and playing with me. I do know how you like games.”

  What? How… did she—was she so powerful she could read minds?

  I scrutinized her aura, looking for signs she could do the same. Sure, she had power, but I’d been alive longer, I’d had time—eons of it. She, a drop in the ocean that was my life. It wasn’t until I scratched the stubble on my face that I realized my form had slipped from the carefree youth I’d arrived as to the older suave version I saved for more serious moments.

  “A game, Marc. Come on, I know you’re fond of them. Would you care to play white?”

  “What I care for, is for miscreants like you to wipe themselves off the face of this planet. That’s not going to happen, is it?”

  I sat in front of the witch on the opposite side of the chess table, and stared at the pieces. It was true. I loved games. All sorts. Especially chess. Football. I loved cricket, too. Real gentlemen’s game, that. I moved a rook to capture her pawn. Easy.

  “I’d like that, too,” she murmured after shifting a knight.

  Right.

  Odd.

  Was she having a laugh?

  “Great. Then it’s settled. Let’s start with you, yeah? How’d you like to do this? Fire. Dispersion. Ooh, I know a Soul-Eater now. We can—”