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Playing God

Page 13

by Lana Pecherczyk


  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “IS THAT TRUE, Roo? Did you hurt Cygnus?” Wren’s eyes glistened as she waited for me to answer.

  My mouth went dry.

  “I don’t remember, but… Wren.” A rush of air left my lungs and with it, my pride. “I think I have a problem. I need help.”

  Her face crumpled, and for a minute she looked like she would walk away. I touched her shoulder, when she didn’t flinch, I continued. “Wren, I’ve told no one this, but I have these… passengers. These souls inside me and, they’re not all nice.”

  “Okay, go on.”

  “I’ve swallowed souls to protect the people I love. It felt like the right thing to do at the time, but they’re not gone. I haven’t destroyed them. They’re inside me. I… I know things they knew. I remember things they did. And, lately it looks like they’re able to take control of my body.” I paused, unsure whether to say any more. “One of them is a terrible witch, and it was the only way I could stop her from hurting Cash.”

  “Shit.” She took a deep breath. “And you think your father has something to do with it?”

  “I’m sure of it. He did something after dinner that triggered them. Or maybe, he didn’t need to do something. Maybe they can take over any time. Oh, jeez. I feel sick.”

  I couldn’t breathe.

  “It’s not your fault. I know they’re conspiring. Mathieson is up to something with Urser. After dinner, he went distant as though he was disturbed by what happened to Cygnus, but I think it was something else. I think he’s gotten in too deep with Urser now he can’t get out.”

  “I can’t take this,” I cried. “I thought I could be strong, but this isn’t me. I need to get away. I have to go.” I had the keys to the bike. I could just get up and go.

  “There’s nowhere you can go where they won’t find you. Don’t you remember question number eighty-four? The trackers inside you report back to head office on a) your vitals, b) your location, or c) all the above. The answer was c) all the above.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t know the answer to a few of those.”

  “Well, you can’t leave. If you try harder, you can still finish your trials and go out on your own. After that, what you do is your own business.”

  “If only I can keep control of my body.”

  Wren flattened her lips. “I might be able to help with that. Follow me.”

  Wren took me back to the depository.

  “I have a confession to make,” Wren said as she led me down to the darkened area of bookshelves we visited the first time. “The reason I knew where to find the books on Soul-Eaters was because I’ve been researching them.”

  “Oh?”

  She stopped at the same stack we were at last time and bent to retrieve a book. When she straightened to meet my eyes, her own were guilt laden. “I heard about you before you came. I was instructed to research you after my mentor had heated discussions with your mentor—”

  “With Cash?”

  “No, sorry, I keep forgetting. With Urser.”

  “My father.”

  “I guess. We don’t use that terminology here.”

  “You don’t?”

  She shrugged. “No, it’s not like that. Mathieson doesn’t provide us paternal comfort or anything, he’s just our sire and mentor in the Game, and if we pass the trials, we declare at the Libertine Ball, we pick him. That’s just the way it goes.”

  “Bullshit. Says who? I’m certainly not declaring for Bruce.”

  She smiled. “See, that’s what I like about you, Roo. You’re not afraid to go against the grain. C’mon. I’ll show you what I found.”

  We found a table to sit at and made ourselves comfortable. The second she opened the book, my phone pinged.

  It was from Cash. He’d gone to wait for me at the auditorium and I wasn’t there. He must be happy about me having my phone back; he gets to communicate with me wherever I am. I typed a message back, letting him know where I was.

  “Okay, what do you have?” I asked Wren, tension grinding through my body.

  “You said you didn’t destroy the souls you took, but kept them captive inside you. It made me realize that you’re not what you think you are. Take a look at this.”

  She rotated the large leather bound book to my direction and pointed at a specific spot on the page. “It’s in Latin, but you don’t need help to read that.”

  I checked the inscription. It was old, handwritten in ink of some kind, now stained brown on brittle, cream paper.

  “It says Soul-Eaters completely destroy the soul they absorb and temporarily take on the abilities and memories of the original.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You said the souls are inside you still, and sentient, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, you’re not a Soul-Eater. I have another book that will give us a clue as to who you are.” She slid another leather book across and opened it.

  “Who she is, is none of your concern.” Cash appeared from nowhere and slammed the book shut. The loud clap of the book shutting echoed through the large room. His face primed with pure fury when he looked at me. “What do you mean they’re still inside you, sentient?”

  I gulped. “Uh… that’s what I was going to tell you the other night, but… well, you know, I slept for three days.”

  “You know who she is,” Wren declared, pointing Cash’s way.

  His face was stone cold dead. He gave nothing away.

  “Cash, if you know, it could help me. There’s more I haven’t told you. The souls inside me have taken control of my body on more than one occasion.”

  The blood drained from his face. “And you’re telling me this now? I let you stay at Urser’s, and you’ve been at risk this whole time?” His voice rose in decibels with every word.

  “You let me? Since when have you had control of me?” I folded my arms.

  “I didn’t mean that.”

  “Yes you did.”

  “Roo, it’s for your own good. I can’t tell you until Marc is back.”

  “What’s Marc got to do with this?”

  “He forbade me to tell you. He’s the Gamekeeper. He’s in charge. We can’t talk about this here, and if you know what’s good for you”—he jabbed a finger at Wren’s face—“you won’t mention a word of this to anyone.”

  “I-I-I won’t. I swear.” Wren took a few steps back.

  “I mean it. If I hear so much as a whisper of her true identity, I’ll break every bone in your body, let it heal, then do it again.”

  “Cash! What’s gotten into you.”

  “Let’s go back to my place and I’ll explain… what’s this?” He took my arm and turned it to display the list I’d written, now in blurry blue ink.

  He swallowed, his eyes met mine and softened. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

  “If I may,” Wren interrupted. “I can be of assistance with the soul control, but it has to do with who you are to each other. I know you don’t want to talk about it here, so take the book and read it.”

  Cash intercepted me when I moved to accept the book. He used his body to block me from her.

  “Cash. She knows stuff.”

  He frowned at Wren. “What do you mean who we are to each other?”

  “Well, you’re stronger together, so Roo’s control should be stronger when you’re around.”

  “What House are you from, Wren?”

  “Cetus, but don’t think I’m on their side. I—” She looked around the depository and lowered her voice. “I will declare independent at the ball. Just like you did. You’re kind of a legend around here.”

  “Really?” Cash’s stance relaxed. A little.

  Wren nodded. “We’re not all sheep now.”

  Cash whipped his gaze back to me. “What’s her aura say?”

  “She’s telling the truth. She wants to help. I would never have gotten this far trusting her if I didn’t know that.”

>   He said nothing for a while, just studied me. Probably thinking about me not trusting him with my secret, but that stemmed from a deeper shame.

  “Will you betray her?” Cash asked Wren. “Say it. Say the words so she can check your aura.”

  “Cash!”

  “No, it’s okay, Roo. No, I won’t betray her.”

  “Truth,” I mumbled, embarrassed.

  “Good.” Cash collected the book in his arms. “If there’s anything else you think might be valid, please let me know. Roo, we have some talking to do. The next trial starts at five am tomorrow.”

  “Damn straight we need to talk.” My stomach rumbled before I could speak.

  “We’ll do it over lunch,” Cash said. “You need to replenish your energy if you’re going to have a chance at holding the souls inside at bay.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  WE DROPPED THE book off at Cash’s quarters then went to the Ludus cafeteria. It was a large room with a series of tables and a serving area, just like you’d find at a hospital or school, except this one had five star rated food. Because most Players were blond, there was a sea of various shades across the room, and each person had a distinctive star-map tattoo on their skin. One poor girl’s stretched half across her face. My own stark red hair stood out like a sore thumb.

  One group had the whale on the breast of their robes, another group had T-shirts with a bull’s head on the front, and a third wore blue baseball caps with another symbol I couldn’t see clearly from my distance.

  As I followed Cash to the serving line, I continued to survey the room, taking stock of the factions. There were kids with musical instruments, and a group that were so good looking I thought they were made from clay. Then I spied an odd selection of pale-faced people with black makeup around their eyes, goth style. Not a word was spoken between them but they seemed to communicate somehow. Then, as if they knew I stared at them, one by one, all four turned my way.

  A shiver ran down my spine.

  The smallest girl on the end of the table narrowed her eyes.

  I quickly glanced back at Cash’s back as he perused the food selection and moved forward. With so much to pick from, I dawdled in line, letting a few people go ahead of me as I took my time choosing from the all-you-can-eat buffet. Cash waited for me at the end of the line. He’d already plucked his lunch from the shelves and placed it onto his tray, yet I stood, ambivalent at the buffet counter. After a while I realized I’d been hesitating, not because of my poor skills of choice, but because of the guilt over my secret from Cash.

  I quickly ladled a bowl of soup and added a few sides.

  The line congested and Cash had left to find us a seat. While I watched him, the enormous guy in front of me pivoted and we collided. Soup sloshed over the edges of my bowl. He shot his hand out to steady my bowl, but threw a disparaging look at the same time.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, a little intimidated by his size and long silver hair tied at the nape of his neck. The color was so striking next to his brown skin and ice-blue eyes like a wolf. It wasn’t a wolf emblem on his shirt. It was a snake.

  Without a word, he moved away.

  Sorry. I should say that word more often, I thought.

  When I joined Cash at an empty far table, it was the first thing that came out of my mouth.

  He popped a morsel into his mouth and didn’t respond. Maybe he didn’t hear me.

  “I’m sorry I kept that information from you, Cash. I feel terrible about lying after I’d been so horrible to you about doing the same thing. I’m a hypocrite and I deserve your apathy.”

  He sighed and placed his elbows on the table so he could scrub his face. He looked tired. It was then I registered that, while I slept for days, he might have done the opposite. All because of me.

  As if I didn’t feel bad enough, a dose of self-loathing gnawed my insides.

  “I don’t blame you,” he said, glancing up. “I’ve not been forthcoming.”

  “That’s not why I did it,” I said. His steady gaze gave me the confidence to keep going. “I was afraid.”

  “Of me?”

  “No. It’s because of what’s happening to me.” I looked down and spooned soup into my mouth. It had an odd nutty flavor that made it taste bitter and tingle my tongue, but I was hungry. I forced in another hot spoon. Liquid traveled down to my stomach, warming my body. “I don’t think I can control it. What if I hurt you?”

  “That’s why you kept it secret, because you’re afraid of hurting me?”

  I nodded. “You’re already suffering because I joined your soul parts together. If I hadn’t done that, your body wouldn’t be failing.”

  “Roo, never think that’s a bad thing. I’m whole. You don’t understand how long I’ve waited for that.”

  “You’re not the only one I’d hurt. I’ve been winging these abilities my whole life. Sometimes what I do works. Sometimes I make things worse. I feel like it’s wrong for all of us to have these powers. We have no right to be making decisions that affect humans. It’s irresponsible. We should just leave them alone.” Darkness seeped into my mind at the memory of what happened to the boy in Houston. I couldn’t get it out of my head. He’d been toyed with, experimented on, turned into a rabid beast, for no reason other to serve my father in his crusade to get back to the Empire. “My father…” The final words caught on a choke, my throat getting thick.

  “It will be okay.” His confidence was a balm on my soul. We ate our meals for a while and then he spoke. “I was afraid too. When my memories came back, I—” he paused and toyed with the food on his plate. “I didn’t like who I was back then. I had to do horrible things in the name of the Queen, and I didn’t think I deserved to be around someone like you. That’s why I wanted to leave. Not to go back to her, but to save you from me.”

  Our eyes clashed. And in that moment, the world passed between us. I ached to be closer to him.

  “But you were in love with her,” I said, throat getting worse.

  “Yes. I was.”

  “If you saw the Queen again, what would you do?”

  He gaped at my question, and I thought I’d gone too far, pried too much, but I had to know. I couldn’t have her hanging over my head. The pull of our souls had been tangible from the first day we’d met, and it wasn’t any less now. Every atom inside me strained to be with him, to touch him and to fall into his arms.

  His eyes glistened in thought.

  “Honestly, I don’t know,” he said, eventually. “She became someone else at the end, obsessed with her project here on earth. It had been hard to get her attention. Not that I was demanding, but I’ve told you already, I don’t like who I became for her. If that same person came back… I don’t know.” He grew still. Then, like a river bank breaking, he reached across the table and took hold of my hands. His slender fingers clenched around mine. “But I can tell you this. For you—this person you are today, every part—I would do anything.”

  My eyes watered. I rasped, “I don’t want you to hurt yourself over me.”

  “That’s why I’ll do it. Because you don’t ask.”

  I was about to say I felt the same way when wrongness welled inside me. My throat tightened. I thought my emotions closed it but it was something more. I couldn’t breathe. A sharp pain sliced my stomach from the inside and I doubled over, pulling my hand away from Cash to clutch my middle.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  I tried to say something, but couldn’t. My lungs struggled to work. Air couldn’t get in.

  I felt wrong. Sick.

  Dizzy, hot, swollen.

  Bee stings all over my body.

  My Nephilim body reacted, trying to counteract, to heal, but it failed. Broke apart. The bitter aftertaste in my mouth turned acrid. I looked at my soup bowl in horror as I realized.

  Cash frowned, his nostrils flaring, scenting.

  “Poison,” I mouthed and clutched my throat.

  “Shit.” Cash sniffed the bowl of soup and re
coiled. Heads turned our way and a murmur of panic escalated in the crowd. Then he scooped me up in his steady arms and left the cafeteria as fast as he could.

  My vision blurred, my head hurt, pounded. Everything hurt. Muscles seized, contracting in a fit.

  I’m dying, was all I could think. I’m dying, again. One soul inside me would be sacrificed, so I might live. Panic rose inside. That couldn’t happen. If it was Leila, there would be nothing holding Petra back.

  Why wasn’t I healing fast enough?

  “Fight it, Roo.” Cash’s voice came through a distant cloud. “Use your abilities to fight it. It’s cyanide poisoning. A large enough dose to kill Nephilim. I’ve seen it before.”

  The ceiling with its fake daylight stars rushed overhead as we jogged through the halls. My head bobbed uncontrollably.

  “It works by stopping the cells in your body from using oxygen,” he said. “Now you know what it does, fight it. Command your body to let the oxygen in.”

  My brain fumbled. I couldn’t form a clear directive to my body. No fire ants erupting over my skin, no tingling sensations, just painful numbness. Ungraspable blackness. I gasped, trying to get in air. A fish out of water.

  Oh God. Was this how Squid felt when I’d blocked his airways?

  Bang!

  We burst through doors into a room with yellowed lights. It hurt my eyes, blinded me. I couldn’t see.

  “I need help!” Cash bellowed, his voice echoed in the room.

  My head lolled to the side, resting on his chest. White heat rolled through me, searing my insides, clouding my mind. I focused on the stitching at the collar of his shirt to keep my brain from exploding, and my lungs working.

  Breathe, I commanded. Breathe.

  We bumped and jostled as Cash moved.

  “Put her down here,” a female voice said.

  “Someone poisoned her. Cyanide.” Cash.

  “Jesop! Get here.” The woman.

  Shuffling, scraping, more bumping. I was on a flat surface.

  Someone took hold of my hand.

  My lids shuttered.

 

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