The sound of a camera shutter clicking rapidly cut into my rambling. Molly was completely ignoring me to take pictures of the ground. Right. Well, guess she was all out of weird questions.
“Let me see your hands.” Or not.
“Say what now?”
“Hands. Let me see ’em.” Molly had moved closer and held her phone at the ready. “Palms up.”
With both scrapped and bloody palms held out in front of me, she started snapping pictures. The injuries seemed to form some kind of shape. It almost looked like ... No, it couldn’t be. My artist’s eye had to be making more of the lines than was really there.
Molly must have noticed my quizzical expression. “The ground is the same. They look like ...”
“Lotus flowers,” we said at the same time.
8
Dinner had been a rushed affair since I was the last to arrive and the only newbie in the group. Devon, the hulking leader of the guides, had introduced me as Lia’s friend in that gravelly voice of his and it hadn’t sounded like he considered that a good thing. Then the contestants had introduced themselves like a lightning round of speed dating. Luckily, being a teacher, I’d learned to pick up names quickly. There was Kade, the guy who wore a cowboy hat and had the cute Southern twang. I had to stifle my chuckle when I remembered Lia had called him “Cowboy Cutie.” She was always good for a funny nickname for people.
Chris, the youngest of the bunch, reminded me of a better-looking Shaggy from Scooby-Doo, all gangly and completely out of his element. Mikhail, a lean man with dark black skin, glared at everyone suspiciously. Maya was a tall Asian woman who wore a very boring gray pants suit and whipped out a calculator as soon as we were introduced. And Nikki, who was all blonde, bubbly, and had a curvy shape that I envied. I almost choked on my wine when I remembered Lia had called her “Busty Bigmouth.” It was so appropriate.
I made a mental note about all the contestants, realizing that I was going to be in for a challenge against this crowd. Half of them were twice my size—which wasn’t hard to accomplish at my measly five foot three. However, it had been the guides that had fascinated me. They were all bold and intimidating and each wore formal dress clothes of gray and black. Normally, I would have said the style was too dull, but I had a new appreciation for colors not found in the rainbow lately. The little flashes of color in the form of symbols and the awesome accessories made the simple styles more dramatic. Molly’s symbol was red and shaped like an arrow with wings.
Devon explained that each contestant would be pledged as a Potential to one of the six Paldimori Houses. Each house was identified by a symbol and had a ruler—or Kyrion. The Kyrion operated by three rules: 1) all contestants were under the Kyrion’s protection; 2) they couldn’t help a contestant once the competitions started unless there was a unanimous vote; 3) no fornicating with contestants.
The guides were there to train the contestants and could not provide any assistance without permission from the Kyrion.
We were each given a torque necklace and told to wear it at all times. Then lined up and marched in a really dismal parade. I would have recommended balloon animals, but I didn’t think this overly serious crowd would appreciate my trying to liven up their ceremony.
We were led to an awe-inspiring grand rotunda, and, as we crossed the floor to stop on our assigned symbols in front of a stage with six black thrones, the ballroom scene from Beauty and the Beast played through my head and made me want to dance.
A huge black statue with white eyes stood in the middle of the platform. Smaller, less intimidating-looking statues of men and women stood behind each of the thrones, holding the House symbols.
Sitting on the thrones were figures draped in cloaks of different colors with their hoods pulled down low over their faces. Moonlight spilled from an opening in the ceiling far above, making creepy shadows shift around them. They were like a colorful council of grim reapers and I half-expected pipe music from Phantom of the Opera to start playing. I would have applauded them for dissing the black robes, but I was too busy trying not to scratch like I had a bad case of poison ivy.
A draft of cold air hit me, which then shifted to warm—back and forth making the hairs on my body dance. It was similar to the ripples that Lia sent out but cranked up to bone-jarring intensity. It was only my trust in Lia and my need to win the prize that Jaxon had dangled before me that kept me standing there.
Lia had promised that this wasn’t a corporate retreat—which would’ve made me break out in hives from all the dull colors and politically correct conversations. But she hadn’t warned me about the gamma radiation or whatever it was that was affecting me. She’d told me to stand there and pledge to do my best in the games and don’t tell anyone anything about my time here. Yep, I could do that. Right now, would be good, before I stripped down and started trying to scratch at my itches like a flea-infested dog. I twisted my pink skirt nervously with clammy hands, wishing that Lia would have been allowed to be here with me.
Words were being exchanged around me, but I couldn’t concentrate. I squirmed and scanned the room for an escape route. Then the throned figure in the white robe dropped her hood to reveal a black-haired beauty with the brightest blue eyes I’d ever seen, and I almost sighed in relief as the buzzing on my skin stopped. Suddenly, a jolt—like electricity—shot through the air and snapped my spine straight. Luckily, it wasn’t as strong as what I had experienced earlier, and I was able to push it away with some deep-breathing yoga exercises.
My focus was drawn to the woman on the throne. She pushed her robe aside to show off an impressive set of breasts that were practically tumbling from her low-cut white dress. Her plump red lips curled into a seductive smile as she leaned toward Chris, his glasses askew and dirty-blonde hair a mess. I could practically hear his heavy gulp from across the room as more of those perfectly tanned breasts spilled forward.
“You can call me Nyx,” she purred “and I will possibly answer.” She sat back in her seat with a satisfied smirk.
Molly dropped to her knees in front of me facing the throne with the red cloak. “Ruler of the House of Arrows, I gift you a champion.”
A rich velvet voice I knew all too well issued from beneath the hood. “What is your name, tiny peacock?”
The nickname irritated me, but a warm breeze was washing over my skin like a long-lost lover. Desire pooled in my belly quick and hot. My voice came out high and squeaky when I said, “Dia King.”
That velvet voice purred mockingly, “I think you mean Potential Dia King. Is that not right?”
Something moved under the skin along my back. Before I could answer, cold enveloped me like I’d jumped into the Arctic Ocean. Shivers wracked through me, but I tried to keep my focus. “R-Right.”
“Do you think a pretty little girl like you could be a worthy champion for my House, Dia?”
“I’m w-worthy,” I bit out through gritted teeth, trying to keep them from chattering.
The cold settled deeper into my bones, and it felt like I was seconds from collapsing into hypothermia. Then the hood was gone, and I was staring up into Jaxon’s too-beautiful face. Those dark blue eyes locked with mine and that warm breeze from earlier swept back in to thaw me out. It wrapped around me, then sank into my core, where it felt as though the door to a hidden room had edged open. Jaxon’s grin slipped for a moment. He pushed halfway up from his chair, then seemed to catch himself and settled back in a sprawl.
Then that smirk was back. Great Mother, it was irritating and sexy at the same time. The debonair lawyer had been replaced by an unrepentant sex god whose grin invited me to indulge in every fantasy I’d ever had. His eyes told me he could make every one of them come true. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, and immediately my gaze followed that shiny path. Lust filled me with images of that sexy mouth on my body. Of my legs wrapped around that lean waist as we both cried out in ecstasy. My lips were suddenly parched, and I knew without a doubt he was the only one that could quench my th
irst.
Danger! Danger! Flirt-mode engaged. Evasive maneuvers. I cocked my head to the side and gave him a puzzled ‘does-that-usually-work?’ look. His smile faded into confusion. Guess what? I’m still not falling for your charm. This girl isn’t a disposable bed warmer.
He was like a great white and I was a guppy. If I let him get too close, he would swallow me whole. I didn’t know how to play his games, and I didn’t want to know. He was the Male Model of the Year and a hotshot lawyer. I was an ex-teacher who talked to her cat more than people and loved to decorate my clothes in interesting ways. Still, I found myself fascinated by this disparity. I would never admit it, but I had spent way too many hours online researching him. The internet had been filled with mouth-watering photos of his modeling career and pictures of him with dozens of women. The one thing I couldn’t find was anything about his career as a lawyer.
“You are right, tiny peacock. You will serve me—”
A throat cleared somewhere to the left, and Jaxon grinned.
“You will serve my House well. I will personally see to it. I accept what fate intends, Potential King of the House of Arrows. You may call me Eros—or, my god—and I will answer.”
Our eyes locked. His gleamed with an unholy promise.
I’m in so much trouble.
9
A boy of five or six was seated on a giant black throne with his feet dangling over the edge. A black crown topped a riot of messy black curls. One small hand rested on the head of a red-and-black dragon the size of a little horse. It leaned over the boy, its wings draped around the throne as if it would wrap him up in its scaly embrace and protect him from the world. The boy’s sapphire eyes stared vacantly out over the large group of people who kneeled before him. He looked so alone, even in their midst, sitting there completely silent and still like a statue.
Three more thrones lay to his left and two to his right. The beauty of the men and women upon those seats threatened to overwhelm my senses. The pearlescent glow of the women’s skin contrasted with the various tanned shades of the men. Their eyes gleamed in the dim light of the cave, like gems ranging from the most vivid emerald to a smoke-gray jade. They wore simple clothing—all in black like the rest of the crowd—and yet they somehow outshone everything around them. Only the nearly imperceptible slump to their shoulders hinted at a weariness that added vulnerability to these otherwise intimidating people.
It was the colors surrounding them that fascinated me the most. Every person there was ringed in color like an aura, but the people on the thrones had that ripple effect—like Lia. My heartbeat seemed to follow the ebb and flow of those ripples, gaining in speed. When it felt like they would pound right through my rib cage, a static charge shot through me causing every hair on my body to rise.
My eyes were drawn to the little boy. He was surrounded by a swirling wall of colors that spread several feet around him. There was something else moving in that wall of colors, but as hard as I squinted, I couldn’t get a good view. Without even realizing what I was doing, I reached out as if to touch him and my back arched in a silent scream. There was a churning river of emotions pouring into me. Anger. Weariness. Regret. Fear. Pain. Pain. PAIN!
I was caught in an undertow of emotions. I kicked and fought, but it kept dragging me under. Then a thunderous voice echoed through the roughly hewn cave, and I was yanked free.
“The winter solstice is once more upon us. We have sailed the Earth and finally found our sanctuary just as Titan bid us. Our bodies are travel-weary and our hearts heavy with loss. Yet, we have much work to do. The world we knew is gone. We will build a stronger world. A world where our children will be safe.”
I wanted to wake up, but I felt frozen in place. My arms were covered in goose bumps from the cold. My bare feet shuffled on the hard rock trying to find warmth, grains of dirt chaffing at my soles. Who were these people? What were they doing here? What had just happened to me?
The boy’s swirling eyes collided with mine and that thunderous voice issued from his open mouth. “The dawn of a new era is upon us. Today we build anew. From this day forward, we will be known as the Paldimori.”
I bolted upright in bed. Clouds of steam hung suspended in the air with each rapid breath. I was so cold that my skin felt tight, as if it might shatter if I moved too quickly. Slowly I scooted to the edge of the large round bed. Stinging prickles covered my whole body—like when your arm goes to sleep. Slowly, I made my way to the bathroom and stepped into the shower, not even bothering to remove my sleep shirt. I gasped as the lukewarm water rained down on me like needles piercing into my skin.
I slumped forward and rested my forehead against the wall. “Even my dreams have turned dark and gloomy.”
It was a long while before I finally got warm enough. I dragged myself from the shower and pulled off the soaked shirt. Then dressed in my favorite yoga outfit—a neon-pink halter top and psychedelic capris. It was too early for someone who didn’t like mornings, but I was wired after that strange dream. I raided the fridge for some yogurt and added in a handful of Skittles. Bless whoever had stocked a whole drawer of them!
I walked to the wall of windows that formed the backdrop to the sunken living room. The shadowed valley far below was slowly revealed in orange and rose tones as the sun peeked over the horizon. If only I had my paints to capture the magic of this place. Everywhere I looked there was a feast for my artistic senses. From the mesmerizing beauty of the landscape to the fascinating diversity of people. To the neo-classical paintings of battle scenes and naked women that decorated the walls of my floor here in Titan Tower. The paintings weren’t really my style, but the skill of the artist was incomparable. Maybe I would brave Molly’s wrath and ask for paint supplies.
As the sun climbed higher over the horizon, I started my routine. I had discovered my love of yoga during college. It had helped me to deal with my aversion to mornings and to find my focus when my brain didn’t want to shut down. Most people thought I was a ditz with too much air in my head and not enough brain cells. The truth was that my mind never stopped. It was like having the city that never sleeps inside your head. The only way I could deal with the constant noise and bustle was through yoga.
I breathed deeply and exhaled all of the tension. My focus shifted to the tightening of every muscle as I worked through the positions. My mind was clear and my soul at ease for the first time in a while as I hung in a wide-legged forward bend. A choked cough cut through my concentration and I opened my eyes to find “Eros” standing a few feet behind me. His gaze locked with my upside-down one as a blinding smile spread across his face.
“Now you’re only teasing me. I hate to inform Lia, but she’s just lost her crown. You in this position is now my new favorite way to be greeted. I can’t believe you’ve been hiding that under those bulky skirts.” He grumbled as if his powers of seeking out prime female body parts had failed him. “But my hands are always available if you would like a partner to help support you.”
The heavy weight of his gaze penetrated my calm making me rush through the last couple of positions. I ignored him as I wiped the sweat from my face and arms with a small towel. Then gulped down a bottle of water. I had hoped that he would take the hint that I wanted to be alone, but when I turned he was laying on the couch built into the step-down of the living room. His head propped on his hand as he watched me. His feet were bare. His red T-shirt and worn jeans hugged his lean swimmer’s body. There was something in his expression—like he had a secret that was bursting to be shared—but he didn’t say anything.
“Didn’t the rules say something about you not being allowed in my rooms?” I asked.
“I’m not allowed to be in your bedroom. Unless you invite me, of course.” That sexy grin captured my attention. Those full lips pulled down into a cute little pout. “Invite me to your bedroom, Dia. Pretty please. I promise you that every inch of your body will thank me.”
“Do women fall for this?” My hands trembled as I pulled th
e scrunchie from my hair and combed my fingers through it to distract myself from the lust pouring through me.
“I don’t have to try this hard with most women,” he stated as he gracefully got to his feet and walked toward me. His eyes tracked my hands as I continued to finger-comb the mess I had created by putting my hair up wet. “I can’t remember the last time I pursued a woman. Maybe Becky Sims in fifth grade. She had the best snacks. It took the whole lunch break to convinced her we were dating and, as a good girlfriend, she should share her snacks.”
“You bribed a girl out of her lunch by promising her dates?”
“She had Little Debbie snacks,” he said as if that justified everything.
“What kind?”
Jaxon stepped in front of me then leaned in to whisper slowly, “Strawberry Shortcake Rolls.”
My mouth watered, and I groaned. “How dare she bring that yummy goodness to school and not share!”
“Exactly. She was torturing me.” His fingers traced my cheek. “That spongy cake layer …” Then trailed down to brush my lips. “… the rich creme that melts on your tongue.” My tongue darted out before I knew what was happening and his rich taste hit me. “… the sweet–tart layer of strawberry.” His finger dipped into my mouth to follow my tongue.
“Delicious,” he breathed as his lips glided lightly against mine. My breath caught. My eyes fluttered closed as he hovered there drawing out the moment until all I wanted to do was grab him and pull his lips to mine.
Then he was across the room and walking to the elevator door. How did he get over there so quickly?
“It’s time to start training.” The gruffness of his voice was the only indication he had been as affected by that almost-kiss as I was.
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