The Game of Gods
Date: 2019-04-07 05:00:00+00:00
Description: Imagine if gods were real and they downloaded their souls into human bodies to play a brutal game for evolution... then imagine if you discovered you were one of them. Save and get all four Game of Gods books right now in one box set. What you Get... 1. Soul Thing Body snatching witches are real, and there's one gunning for Roo and her family. Roo works at the local bar, is a little facetious and can't wait to high-tail it out of there to keep her witch-like powers secret. She's not certain where they came from, but they're the same as the enemy, and the last thing she wants is to be burned at
Publisher: Prism Press
Rights: Copyright 2019 Lana Pecherczyk. All rights reserved.

Game of Gods

Series Box Set

Lana Pecherczyk

Prism Press, Perth Australia.

Copyright © 2019 Lana Pecherczyk

All rights reserved.

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Text copyright © Lana Pecherczyk 2019

Cover design © Lana Pecherczyk 2019

www.lanapecherczyk.com

Contents

Soul Thing

The Devil Inside

Playing God

Game Over

Also by Lana Pecherczyk

Game of Gods Glossary

About the Author

Sample of Envy

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Soul Thing

In loving memory of my mother.

Who, when we were too poor to own a television set, took me to the library and told me I could do anything I set my mind to.

Chapter 1

Sooner or later I had to stop feeling guilty about killing my mother. I had no memory of it, and I was a baby when it happened. As if I could control it. It was time I started thinking of myself.

Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, I thought as I curled my fingers into fists and punched the air. Now or never. I rounded the corner to the kitchen and planted my feet squarely in front of Aunt Lucy. “I’m moving out,” I blurted.

Aunt Lucy turned, eyes blinking. She wore colorless clothing to match her gray hair, and never used makeup. The only inspiring thing about her appearance was her glass bauble necklace. She pulled her arms out of the sudsy sink and tapped her gloved fingers on the porcelain bowl. The action sent baubles clinking and a tiny waft of lavender perfume floating my way. Deliberately, slowly, she removed her second skin, one finger at a time and then dabbed her hands with a tea towel. Despite her careful charade, thoughts collided behind her steely gaze.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said through gritted teeth.

I took a step back and darted a glance at my sister, Leila, as she sat at the grand table reading the newspaper. The ghost of a smile danced across her delicate features but she covered it with a sip of coffee, then turned the page, pointing to an article in an evasive gesture. “Oh, look at this one,” she said.

Ignoring her, I held up my key. “I’m not being ridiculous. Kitty’s leasing her apartment and I can move as soon as my probation is over. I’m half packed.”

Leila spat coffee everywhere and then grimaced at her accident. She slammed her mug down. “Now, look what you’ve made me do. I wish I had a normal sister.”

I snatched a towel from the rack and mopped up her mess. “Yeah, well I wish my sister didn’t hate my guts for something I can’t control—”

“Uh, uh. We’re not going there.” Aunt Lucy cut me off, raised a finger, and then turned her back on me to help Leila dry her precious clippings. “What did you find today, sweet-heart?”

My jaw dropped. I’d given her monumental news, and she’d turned her back on me.

“Look at this one.” Leila tapped an article. “The Church is recalling their latest safeguard against witch possession. Apparently, there was a faulty part in the device or something. It would be nice for them to get one invention right, don’t you think? And this one, see?” She held up another clipping. “The DNA test used to identify maleficent victims isn’t accurate because there haven’t been enough cases of possession over the last four years to benchmark—you know, since the Purge.”

“Tsk, tsk, such a shame.” Aunt Lucy rubbed Leila’s shoulder affectionately. “Never mind, sweet, it could be a good thing. Only a few possessions in four years isn’t bad. But just in case, we’ll continue to go to church like they told us. It’s worked so far, right? We’ve never seen a witch in town.”

Leila hummed in agreement.

I scowled at them. A woman moving out of home was not to be taken lightly. Witches attacked females—it had something to do with our higher estrogen levels—but like Leila said, since they’d burned half the female population in the Purge, there were few cases of possession. The world had relaxed and being a woman wasn’t so bad anymore.

I waved the key in the air. “Um hello? Did you hear what I said? I’m moving out.”

“You stubborn girl.” Aunt Lucy shook her head at me. “You’ll be labeled a whore, just like your friend. I should never let you have that job at that devil’s playground. It’s caused nothing but problems.” She pulled off her headband and threw it on the counter, releasing her gray hair from its captivity.

Did she just call Kitty a whore? Hang on—did she called me a whore?

“After all I’ve done for you,” she continued. “I housed you when your father abandoned you, I put up with your criminal ways, I even let you get a job when there’s so much to do here at the vineyard. You’re going to throw it all in my face and leave a week before the food festival.” The tenacity of her words caused a coughing fit. She wheezed and spluttered into a quickly grasped tissue. The sour stench of smoker’s breath hit me moments before her pungent lavender perfume. I flinched and tried not to screw up my face. The bad-girl smoker habit was such a contrast to her drab, gray attire. Seriously, brush your teeth.

With shaky hands, she reached for a glass of water and took a sip. Aunt Lucy ran her boutique vineyard estate with an iron fist, but quit smoking? Impossible. She downed the water in gulps and held up a finger indicating the conversation wasn’t over. When she finished, she busied herself with drying the dishes. The muscles in her shoulders and neck grew rigid as she mulled over her next words. Finally, she picked up a spoon and waved it at me. “That sin-bin you work at is just a lawsuit waiting to happen.” She opened the cutlery drawer and slammed the spoon in place. “I can’t believe it was allowed to open in the first place.”

Leila snorted in sympathy.

In an effort not to roll my eyes, I stared at the sparkling black and white checked floor. There she goes again, spouting her devil nonsense.

“The Cauldron,” I said, “is not a ‘sin-bin’ or a ‘devil’s playground.’ It’s a legitimate establishment where people can enjoy a drink or a meal, and learn about the history of witches.”

Leila laughed. “You can’t be serious, Roo. It’s a mockery; they poke fun at the myth, not teach the reality.” Her last words came through a clenched jaw and she shuddered.

It was true. The Cauldron was a clichéd, witch-themed bar. It resembled something from Halloween, and served cocktails like ‘The Holy Grail’ and ‘Brew to Forget.’ Taxidermy crows peered down at you as you ate, but it was harmless fun. And I felt at home there.

I shrugged. “If it makes people feel safe and confident they have one up on witches, who cares? I get paid, and all I have to do is serve drinks and look pretty with this thing hanging around my neck.” I flicked my slick UV-liquid filled probation collar. It made me special. “I’m accepted for who I am. Besides, it’s coming off in a few weeks and I’ll be free to do what I want. Everyone with opinions can bite me.”

I added the last bit in an awkward rush and, as if sensing my unease, the skin underneath the collar itched. I slid my finger over the watery surface, tracing it around to the clasp at my nape and scratched. Oh, that felt good. I’d be glad to have it off in a few weeks when my sentence lifted. I smiled at the notion. After one thousand and ninety-five days I’d finally be able to touch people without risking an electric shock, annoying alarm, or being covered in an embarrassing UV staining liquid. I knew that using witchcraft didn’t mean I was a witch. But nobody else did. They thought that because I told my ex to take a long walk off a short cliff—and he did—that I might be one of them. Only I knew the truth. Just a few more weeks to keep my secret under wraps and then I could be out of here. My moving to Kitty’s tomorrow was a temporary layover. Soon, I planned on a complete fresh start.

Turbulence gathered on Aunt Lucy’s face when she caught my smile. “Who’s going to want you after what happened to your last boyfriend?” She flung a china plate down, and it whirled on the bench top. “You were only cleared of murder because of lack of evidence. Nobody trusts you. Even your workplace won’t want you then. You’re an asset while you have that freak show happening around your neck. But when that’s gone, what value will you bring to the show? Will you whore yourself out, too?” Her hands shook, and she clicked her tongue as she picked up another utensil.

Like Kitty? I was sure she wanted to add.

“We need you here, Roo. The grapes won’t pick themselves and there is so much work to be done before the food and wine festival, it’s simply not possible. Your father left you in my care, and that’s where you will stay.”

My hands balled into fists. He left me in her care. Her words cut to the core and stung every time I heard them. I knew he left because he couldn’t stand the sight of me, but did she have to remind me? It’s one thing to call me and my friend a whore, it’s another to bring my useless father into it. I clenched my teeth. “My father lost any say in my future when he ran away after my trial.”

“You know very well he’s classed as MIA by his military unit. He left your guardianship to me in his will, and since then I’ve been running myself ragged to help you out. Not that it’s done any good, mind you. You’re as ungrateful as the day you arrived.”

My eyes flared. Every day off from The Cauldron, I worked the fields, picking relentlessly. I worked hard, damn it, she had no right to say those things. Besides, my father hadn’t been on a tour of duty at the time of his disappearance. In fact, I was pretty sure he’d been on personal leave, somewhere. How convenient for him to blame work for his substandard parenting. The truth was his daughter had been declared one step above the enemy, and he was embarrassed and ashamed. Well, the joke’s on them. I could do everything a witch could do, except hop from one body to another. The thought gave me a sobering dose of reality. I was bad news for anyone close to me. If they knew I could do the same thing as the enemy... I shuddered, not wanting to finish the thought.

Sometimes, I dreamt I’d be able to help people with my skills and be praised for my uniqueness. I could cure sickness, or remodel fractured bones just by willing it so, but it was a dream. In reality they’d burn me.

“Well, my mind is made up. I’m leaving,” I said. “I’ll come back to help serve at the festival, but I won’t live here.”

Leila made a derogatory sound and feigned interest in another article. I squinted at her. Our matching eye color was the only thing that marked us as sisters. Actually, hers were the brown of a deer and mine were more like honey, so maybe I clutched at straws. The similarity stopped there. I stood tall, athletic and sun kissed from my days in the vineyards; she was short, pale and curvy with black hair. Sometimes I thought I was adopted, but since Leila had witnessed the death of our mother during my birth, I didn’t think so.

Maybe she was adopted. The snide thought tiptoed into my mind.

Leila stood suddenly, dragging her chair across the floor. The scent of daisies filled the air as she left the room in a flurry. I sighed and pinched the bridge between my eyes. I had to get to work. A black mark across my name was the last thing I wanted the day before my performance review. What if Aunt Lucy had been right, and they didn’t want me after my collar was removed? I couldn’t exactly show off my witch-like abilities and I hadn’t planned beyond moving into Kitty’s. I still needed a job. Guess I’d cross that rickety bridge when I got to it.

“See what you’ve done?” Aunt Lucy turned on the guilt trip. “You can’t leave her, Roo, she needs you. I’m not going to be around forever and who will look after her then?” She aged ten years in an instant and forced a cough to prove her point. Her gray hair looked limp, her skin sagged, and her wrinkles turned into deep canyons. Maybe the stress of having two girls dumped in your care after a war wasn’t good for your health—especially when one suffered from post-traumatic stress, and the other was in trouble with the law.

“You’ll be better off without me.” My shoulders slumped as I backed out of the kitchen and walked to the front living room thinking, twenty-four was a good age to move out—well, almost twenty-four. Back in the old days, before the War-of-Witches, women were allowed to move out whenever they wanted. But since the WOW, women could only move out if they were conviction free and over twenty-one. And since I was a few weeks away from three years with no incidents, it was my time.

“This isn’t over, Roo,” Aunt Lucy called from the kitchen. “Don’t expect to be welcome back here after you move out.”

I lifted my brows at the photographs lining the walls, daring them to taunt me, but the ancestors of my mother remained silent. I gazed at the pictures. It was supposed to be historical, like the house, but it haunted me to stare at dead people. It was more like Death Row.

Shivering, I grabbed my belongings from the settee and moved to the door, then smoothed my black uniform shirt and slipped my yellow motorcycle jacket on.

“Roo, wait.” Leila crashed down the stairs on the far side of the room. “I have something for you.” She arrived with a glass jar filled with curious little plastic squares that chinked as she moved. “I can’t let you leave with this hanging over my head, so here goes.”

Whoa, this seemed like a big deal. She pulled out a green computer chip, and turned it over, lost in thought as she gazed at it. The look on her face made me think it hurt to touch, but I knew it didn’t. How could it?

“I made some memory bytes for you. Actually, I haven’t made them for you but they are about you, so you should have them, they’re pretty much all the same,” she babbled. “You should take them with you, then maybe I’ll finally be able to sleep.”

“Right,” I said slowly, chewing my cheek. What was I supposed to say to that? Um, thanks. Sure, no problems, I’m happy to take your jar of nightmares. I opened my hand and caught the microchip in my palm. The little thing was almost weightless but felt as heavy as an elephant—the big one that sat in her room my entire life.

Leila refused to speak about her nightmares, so her therapist had asked her to record them. She’d been doing that for as long as I could remember. I’d often heard her screams at night, followed by shuffling as she gathered the tools needed to make the recording. If I went to her door, I’d see a faint blue glow shining through the cracks. Nobody had seen the recordings yet, so I knew this was a big step, but that’s as far as my insight went.

“I don’t mean to look at you the way I do and talk to you the way I do…” Her voice softened as it trailed off. “My brain says you’re my sister, and a little baby couldn’t possibly be held responsible. But my heart hates you for taking our mother’s place in this world. I’m sorry; it’s something I can’t help.” She looked away with her shoulders hunched. “You have to believe me. I don’t mean to feel that way. I just do.”

My eyes stung. It wasn’t going to get any better than this. For whatever the truth of that fateful night, she had her own version running through her head, and I didn’t need a psychology degree to see it hurt. I wanted to go to her, squeeze her tight, but held back. Something had happened during my birth to make her think I was evil, and after I was accused of bewitching my ex, my name had been used in the same sentence as the enemy. Considering my secret abilities, I knew I was linked to them, somehow. Shame washed over me. If she knew my truth, she’d never speak to me again. I resisted the urge to touch her because my collar would beep at the proximity and she would flinch.

She lifted her lashes to peer at me, eyes liquid. “Maybe things will be different with some distance between us.”

Maybe she could relax when the monster was gone.

“I hope so,” I said. “Goodbye, Leila.”

“Here take these with you, p-please, you’d be doing me a favor, I can’t do it myself. You’re the strong one in this family.” She stuttered the words, but hope shone through her eyes, at least that’s what I told myself. “I’ll see you tomorrow. It’ll be a new day and we can start fresh.” She handed me the jar.

Dumbfounded, I watched her walk away. That was probably the longest conversation I’d ever had with her.

In a daze, I left the house and detoured past the garage. I certainly didn’t want a jar of nightmares and, as Leila didn’t have the guts, I threw them in the garbage. Except for the one in my pocket next to my phone. That one I kept for later.

Chapter 2

As I walked into the underground garage, a wall of thick, invisible lavenders slammed into my face. Phwoar, I could almost taste it.

When I looked up, Aunt Lucy stared at me from the steps that led up to the porch, clutching a whisk, her knuckles white. I slipped my helmet on, snapped its dark visor down and started the engine of my dirt-bike. It didn’t start. After an inward groan, I hopped off and tinkered with the old chain. Sometimes it fell loose. A sharp prick stung my finger as it pinched in the metal. Blood welled and I sucked to ease the pain. When I took my finger away from my mouth, the tiny wound had already healed. Evidence of my freakish nature. I quickly hopped back on the bike, hoping Aunt Lucy hadn’t seen. The engine roared to life.

Thank God.

I put my earphones in, straddled the seat and hit play on my smart phone.

Riding was a guilty passion of mine because underneath the snap of the visor, I could be anyone in the world. And today, surprise, surprise, I wanted to be Prince. I flicked to my favorite song and squished my phone into my jeans’ pocket, then adjusted the choke, shifted into gear and took off. With a mock salute to my aunt, I drove out of the yard, hoping clouds of red dust hit her in the face as I tore down the driveway and onto the country road.

Lost in the abyss of music, I boogied away the ten-minute ride through the shire of Margaret River feeling the vibration of each note shimmy down to my very soul. The town had a population of about five thousand, except at the start of summer when it swelled to a few hundred thousand for the festival and surf contests. It was a beautiful place to live, with fresh forests, beaches and the best wines Australia had to offer. I nodded and pointed at the trees whirring by, pretending they were people in the crowd at my own concert. Thank you fans, I love you too. I’ll be here all year.

I’d done it.

I’d actually done it!

A big, cheesy grin split my face. Excitement danced up my spine and, by the time I pulled into the rear parking lot at The Cauldron, my mood had been restored. My bar sat on top of a cliff. A sand dune dwarfed it on one side and, on the other, a precipice led down to the surfer’s beach below. I liked to squeeze my beautiful bike between the limestone building and the sand dune so it stayed close all night.

Two familiar figures loitered at the rear as I wheeled by. In time to the music, I pointed first at the blue and green-haired siren, and then at the grinning, brown-skinned kitchen hand. Alvin jumped off his perch and followed me with his hands behind his head, thrusting and gyrating to a melody he couldn’t possibly hear. His black apron had twisted and his matching black shirt struggled to cover his pudgy brown belly. My surprisingly strong friend swept me off my stalled bike and into an awkward tango where my lanky frame jumbled with his portly one. We thrust our hips and moved our feet to where Kitty tapped her toes and giggled. Alvin danced me back to my fallen bike. Then he spun me around, lowered me into a swoon-worthy dip, and kissed my visor, dark eyes twinkling.

Suddenly, his expression changed. His fuzzy eyebrows joined in the middle and he released me to point at my neck. Panic surged through me a second before the electric shock did. I tugged off my helmet and let it slip to the floor, dislodging my earphones in the process. The dance beats faded and the incessant beep of my collar took over, dispelling my disco dreams.

“Damn it,” I said, flinching as I was shocked again. I tasted metal in my mouth and stepped away from my friend. It took a moment to catch my breath. The shock wasn’t huge, but disruptive all the same. “I can’t wait until this thing comes off. Sorry, Alvin.” I smiled sheepishly at him, worried the reminder of my social status would disarm him.

Alvin shrugged then did the moonwalk to where Kitty sat. I had to remind myself, I was among friends now, and no more of those insecurities please.

The most beautiful part about working at The Cauldron was being smack in the middle of where the ocean met the earth. The vision drew me to the railing that separated the parking lot from the cliff. I released my tangled hair from its tie and unzipped my jacket. The wind lifted my hair and liberated my scalp. My eyes fluttered closed and, for a moment, I had my own private air conditioner blasting my head. Then the sweat dried, and all I felt was simmering heat—gross.

“Earth to Roo.” I looked over my shoulder to see Alvin waving his hands in the air. “So when’s the party?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” I asked, walking back.

“Babe, you’re not married. You aren’t even dating.” Kitty wiggled her perfectly shaped eyebrows at me and winked. “You’re going to be released back into the wild soon and that’s cause for a celebration.” Her hair—blue at the roots and green at the ends—curled into big retro finger waves that ended below her shoulders. Her Latino heritage was obvious in her curves and olive skin and those mesmerizing lips were all natural—apart from the red lipstick. When I watched them move I was struck with jealousy. I wasn’t the only one affected. Alvin watched her actions too, but his eyes were filled with something other than the green-eyed monster. I often envied her full lips, but said nothing. It was childish and such idle thoughts were the playground of devils, so said Aunt Lucy.

“You’re single,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, but I’m Catholic.” She flicked her silver crucifix on her black lapel. “I’ve checked one of the boxes from society’s safeguard against witch possession. You, on the other hand, have not. People will start talking if you don’t date someone soon, and we both know you can’t afford that kind of attention. So, I’ve decided you’re not moving into my apartment if you haven’t checked at least one of those boxes.”

“Since when do you care what people think?”

“Babe, I don’t. I’m just looking out for you. You’ve made it clear the only religion you want to join is the Church of Prince, but we all know that’s not possible. Being facetious will only take you so far. If you want to be safe—from witches and public persecution—we need to find you a husband, quick-smart. It’s time to let all the eligible bachelors know you’re on the market. If you promise you’ll let me help you, you can still move in.” She tilted her head with soft eyes. “You can’t be alone forever.”

I didn’t want to speak about my disastrous love life. “Religion is bullshit. Having a god does nothing to protect you from possession, and neither does a boyfriend. It’s all bullshit and you know it. Nothing can save you.” I kicked the dirt, opened my mouth to say more, but the warning on Kitty’s face stopped me. She darted a meaningful glance at Alvin. There were things that shouldn’t be said aloud, and I was about to cross the line. I had confided in her about my abilities a long time ago and, rather than report me to the powers that be, she’d asked for a dye job. I smiled thinking about it. But she was right. I knew I wouldn’t go unnoticed for long.

Kitty, or ‘Miss Kitty Muse’ as the patrons knew her, had no qualms about being the center of attention and performed sexy songs nightly in the bar. She got away with being single because she was a devout member of the local church and, quite literally, there were too many men to choose from. She stayed strategically unattached for a reason: marriage ruined the ‘available’ image of the sexy main attraction—it was bad for business. She went against the grain like I did, maybe that’s why we were such good friends.

“Your mate’s here,” Kitty teased, and lifted her eyebrows, green eyes twinkling.

“What? But we aren’t open yet.”

“We let him in early because he wanted to take some photos or something for his paper back home. Maybe you can ask him out or, better yet, get him to take some photos of you—you know, in your birthday suit.” She found it tremendously hilarious that an American boy, just old enough to drink in Australia but not in his home country, found me captivating.

“Ooh, me!” Alvin raised his hand in the air like a schoolboy. “Pick me, pick me for a date, not the Yank.”

Bless their cotton socks for making me feel wanted, but, I screwed up my face at the two of them. I still had reservations with what had happened to my ex. Maybe I had inadvertently caused his death. It happened shortly after we’d first made love and since hexes are transferred via exchange of body fluid, it wasn’t a far stretch to think it was an accident. My fault.

Witches were evil and now extinct, so it wasn’t like I had someone to train me in the art of witchcraft. I learned by instinct, or random thoughts that usually proved correct. But what if, in my fumbling with witchcraft, I had accidentally bewitched him? The idea plagued me. He’d become stalker-obsessed with me after that first time, and when I got fed up with it, I’d told him to get lost… and he did.

Death by sex. That’s a first.

I brushed off my insecurities and turned to Alvin. “Stop teasing me. Anyway, aren’t Yanks from the North? I think Tommy’s from the South.”

“Ah,” Alvin grunted and grabbed his imaginary wounded chest. When he recovered from his performance, he jerked his thumb in the direction of the bar. “Guess there’s no chance for your mate in there if I’m off the menu.”

“Look, guys, I’m just waiting for someone special this time, that’s all. Stop harassing me, there’s no rush.”

“What about Jed?” Alvin asked.

“My PO? I haven’t really thought about him that way.” Actually, I was fond of my probation officer, but there was no way I’d get mixed up with an officer of the law. His first loyalty would be to his job not to me and, with my kind of secret, it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Yeah, I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” Alvin lifted his brows suggestively and made a kissy face. “Roo and Jed, sitting in a tree, k-i-s—” I cut him off by punching him playfully in the guts, hoping the action hid my flaming cheeks.

“I’ll bet he’s gonna love your new look too,” Kitty said. “They both will.” She stood up on three-inch, patent-leather heels. Her uniform puckered in all the right places. As she smoothed the fabric, Alvin followed the movement of her hands down the curves of her body and I felt awkward standing next to her. How did she work all night in those shoes?

Hang on. I frowned. Did she say I had a new look? That wasn’t possible. Kitty and I dressed alike, except I wore faded black jeans, and she wore a black skirt. I looked down at my own dismal potato sack of a shirt and swiped dust from the collar. “I got dusty on the ride, okay?”

Kitty giggled. “I mean your newfound appreciation for makeup?”

“What’s wrong with my face?”

“Oh, my gawd!” She rolled her eyes at Alvin and he smirked. “Your lipstick! Jeez, fishing for compliments much?”

“Huh?”

“Come on, it’s time to open the doors and you’re late, Missy. You neglected the entire prep. You’re lucky Joe’s not in tonight.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me inside, throwing a glance over her shoulder. “It does look hot on you though, babe. You should wear that color more often.” She dropped my hand when my collar announced her mistake and headed for the kitchen. “Even if you don’t want a party, it’s not going to stop me from rustlin’ up some darlings for you,” she said over her shoulder then bustled into the kitchen. “Look out boys, we have a new player in town.”

“Gidday, Jimbo,” I said as I rushed through the kitchen.

The chef flicked his slippery eyes to me and, with a short nod, spat a masticated mess into the trash can below. Just as well his head was shaved. He looked so greasy that oil would have dripped from his hair if he’d had any.

I waved to Courtney, cutting up lettuce at the end of a stainless steel counter. He—sorry, she—batted her false eyelashes and blew me a kiss. Her long, platinum hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and her exotic latte skin and sky blue eyes made her prettier than most women in town. If it weren’t for her prominent Adam’s apple, you’d never have believed a year ago she was a man. Courtney performed in the bar on Kitty’s days off.

After stashing my helmet and bag in the office, I put on an apron, tied up my hair, and checked my appearance in the last minute mirror by the door. I froze.

My lips were red.

They were bloody red.

Like I’d bitten on a thorn and smeared blood over them. It was insane. My heart fluttered in my throat, and the collar felt uncomfortably warm. I closed my eyes and shook my head but the vision of my red mouth had seared into my eyelids. I peeled one eye open, then the second. Yep, the same ruby-lipped girl stared back at me. I scrubbed my lips in an attempt to smudge the color.

It wouldn’t come off.

Chapter 3

At the sight of my new lip color, I quivered. This was not good, not good at all. A physical manifestation of my subconscious desire could be dangerous. Sure, I always thought Kitty’s lipstick was awesome, but I didn’t actually want to change my lip color. If I couldn’t control this kind of subconscious DNA-changing urge, I’d be in trouble. Lipstick was one thing, but what if I changed the color of my skin, or something?

I gasped and covered my eyes. Don’t think about it. My current skin is just fine. You hear me body? Just fine.

Why was this happening? Surely I’d know if I was a witch, right? There were so many reasons I couldn’t be. For starters, I was not a ghostly parasite that stole bodies. I had all of my memories from childhood, unlike witches who contrived stories to delude themselves. Also, witches only lasted around three years in any given host before the body decayed rapidly from the inside out. My body was doing just fine. I was as fit as a fiddle and couldn’t even catch a cold with my abnormal fast-healing.

I sighed. For years I’d ignored the origin of my innate abilities because the truth was too hard to grasp. I patted my pocket, feeling the small bulge of the memory chip. Maybe it was time to find some answers.

Snapping out of my daydream, my eyes darted left and right to see if anyone noticed my suspect behavior. Then I raced from the office, smashed through the scullery swinging doors and stalked into the front room.

My admirer stood on the other side of the mahogany bar. He’d been studying his digital camera and looked up wide-eyed. An unlit cigarette dropped from his lips, and he quickly hid the camera behind his back. The cigarette bounced on the bar and rolled towards me.

“Hi Tommy,” I said, slamming my hand over the getaway smoke.

“Uh… Miss Roo, I was just… uh, taking photos of your fine establishment… and local attractions.” His southern American accent was thick. “For my editor, you see.” He turned on an angle so his body blocked my view of the camera. As he stretched, his lean teenager-muscles flexed through his worn blue and gray baseball t-shirt. A couple of years older, and I’d have no troubles adding him to Kitty’s dating list. His dusty cap pushed his curly hair over his eyes and I couldn’t make out his expression. His obvious evasion was like dangling a carrot in front of a donkey. My curiosity piqued.

I stood on tiptoes to peek over his shoulder at the screen, but he moved to block my view. It became a silent game—I moved, he moved further. He wouldn’t look me in the eye and that was a sure sign of his guilt.

“I’m sure your editor would be happier with photos from our world class wineries than a couple of taxidermy crows. There’s plenty to see this week with all the festivities. Why don’t you get out there and have a look around?” I asked.

He continued to rifle through his shots. “Now, now, Probie. Why would I run about town all crazy-like when I could just sit back, enjoy a drink and soak up the beauty here?”

“What beauty? Stuffed animals?” I asked, thinking he referred to the kitsch-themed decorations behind him—a bunch of black crows and magpies perched on fake, gnarled branches. Our restaurant had an L-shaped bar at the front and beyond that, a small wooden dance floor. A few tables and booths lined the edges of the room, but it was the brooms, crows, cobwebs and witch’s hats hanging from the ceiling that gave The Cauldron its Halloween feel. It wasn’t exactly the epitome of tourism in the south-west of Australia, in fact, it wasn’t very Australian at all. Maybe that’s why it was such a popular night spot.

“Just show me, already,” I whined.

“No can do, Probie. Ain’t you got some work to do or something?” He flipped his camera around his neck and it dangled down his back. He tried to hide his amusement, but a dimple wobbled in his cheek as his lips twitched. He had laughing eyes that puffed and crinkled around the edges and it was impossible to be angry with him.

“You can look if you agree to go out with me tomorrow, like on a date, for real.”

Oh. “I’m moving house tomorrow, remember?” I laughed off my discomfort and fixed my hair, avoiding his gaze. “Besides Tommy, you know I can’t date. In case you haven’t noticed…” I jiggled my collar. “This Probie hasn’t been doing much dating at all. Anyway, there are plenty of other girls closer to your age than me.”

“No there ain’t.” The life faded from his eyes the moment I shook my head. I couldn’t risk it. “Never mind,” he mumbled and packed away his camera. “So you spoke to your aunt about the move?”

Grateful for the change, I told him about my afternoon, minus the memory byte, and my family’s reaction. He listened attentively, nodded and made agreeable sounds in all the right places. He was magical at getting me to open up but it should have been the other way around. Bartenders were supposed to be the listeners.

“So, y’all need a hand moving boxes? I got nothing else to do. The Festival ain’t for another few days.”

I gazed into his endearing, puffy, smiling eyes and realized I was happy when with him. Maybe Kitty was right and I should stop pushing people away.

“Sure, that would be great,” I said. “I’ll buy you and Kitty a drink to say thanks and maybe after the move we could all hang out?”

His face brightened, and I felt mine do the same. Then I thought of something else that might boost his mood even more. “If you can get your brother out of hiding, maybe he’d like to come too—after the move, that is. I don’t expect a stranger to help lift my boxes.” I grabbed an empty beer glass from the rack, angled it under the beer tap and filled it to the rim.

“Oh yeah, my brother.” He drew out the word brother longer than he should have. “He’s probably busy. He works every day, and doesn’t tell me where he goes, but he’ll be in later tonight. I guess you can ask him yourself.”

“I didn’t realize this was a business trip for him, too. I thought you said he was surfing.”

“Um, yeah, he does that too. He ain’t never picked up a board in his life. Hell, only way you get wet back home is from the rain, but he’s just smooth sailing out there like he was born on the goddamn water.” He hid the pained look in his eyes by glancing away. There was something going on there, but I didn’t want to push it.

Tommy realized he had just cussed in front of a lady and pulled his cap off to apologize profusely. His mop of dark curls stuck flat to his head in a circle. What a southern gentleman.

I left him to turn on the electromagnetic scanner near the front door. Of all the silly brained inventions during the war, it was one of the worst. Unfortunately, the injunction to scan every patron entering a public establishment was still enforced around the country, so we had to put up with it. The scanner looked like something from an airport in the seventies. If the panels picked up suspicious activity, the alarm sounded, and the police were notified. It never went off. Even when I walked by, it just blipped softly as it did with everyone. I wasn’t sure how accurate it was at detecting a witch, but at least women didn’t have a curfew anymore. That law had been a pain in the ass.

“Let the good times roll,” I said and let the first patrons in.

Kitty joined me to serve the long line of thirsty clientele and, as the night wore on, people got rowdier and the music got louder. Tommy moved to the edge of the bar and busied himself with lively conversations and frequent flash-popping photography—the ladies loved it.

By nine o’clock, the absence of his brother stood out like my random red lips. Poor Tommy. Disappointment poured off him in waves. He obviously looked up to his brother, and the no-show affected him deeply. He slunk to the rear of the room where he nursed his beer in a private booth.

As it was a weeknight, business slowed when the kitchen closed at half past nine. The remaining patrons took to the dance floor. I ducked out the back to scoff some food and made a mad dash to the restroom. My phone clattered to the floor when I pulled my pants back up. I couldn’t believe I’d been so distracted that I forgot about the byte. The notion sat me down squarely on the lid of the toilet while I stared at my phone.

I had two minutes left of my break and the little chip burned a hole in my pocket. Not sure if I’d get another chance, I pulled out the green square and twirled it in my fingers. What did I know about my mother’s death? Not much. My father, a decorated soldier in the Australian Army, didn’t know what had happened either. Well, that’s what he said. Apparently, he’d walked in to find my dead mother in a bloody bath and my sister holding me, still attached to the umbilical cord. Leila had saved my life—even if she hated me now, she saved me once.

“What would Prince do?” My favorite musician had an answer to all of my deepest, darkest questions. On my phone I had over two hundred of his songs to choose from and so far he hadn’t let me down. I set the music playlist to shuffle and pressed play.

You got the Look, came on.

I nodded. “That’s what I thought too. Prince, you’re a friggin’ genius. I’ve got to stop being a baby and have a look.” With a renewed sense of urgency and purpose, I inserted the chip into the slot at the bottom of my phone. The screen lit up—a vibrant blue—and the song faded. On the screen, visions in shades of gray projected, flickering and jumping before they settled into a recognizable, Technicolor pattern. Memory bytes had no sound and couldn’t portray emotions, so I had to make sense of the images as they were. They were also warped, like random dreams.

We were in a bathroom. Mama reached out through a red veil, but she wasn’t asking for Leila to come to her, she wanted her to leave. Wait—it wasn’t a veil, it was her hair. It had changed in color from black to red.

Her face changed too. A black-eyed monster looked out laughing through red lips, laughing, so close to the screen. Then its eyes widened, its laughter turned to fear, and it clawed its own face, causing wells of blood to spring from the beautiful porcelain skin. Suddenly, it collapsed on the tiled floor.

It was my mother again, her hair bled to black, her lips faded to pink. She looked up and moved her mouth, eyes glassy and leaking tears. She assured Leila of something, but I couldn’t work it out. She pulled herself up to stand and lowered her heavily pregnant and naked body into the bath. Water surged over the edge, a torrential flood spilled to the floor, lapping at Leila’s little feet.

I could see the black-eyed monster again. Its mouth opened wide, it must be screaming, scared. It tried to scramble out of the bath but couldn’t get a footing. Why is the witch scared? It’s only water. Spit flew from its mouth as it screamed, its mouth moved as though it spoke. It scratched its face, ripping welts in soft tissue and thrashed its legs. Water splashed on the walls and over the bathroom, but the puddles looked red, not clear.

Then it stopped.

The face calmed, the hands slid over the bath’s edge and it sank lower.

The water stilled.

The monster stared at me from over the bath’s edge, black eyes wide and terrible.

The monster was afraid. It was desperate. It turned its gaze to the big belly and lashed at it with cracked and bleeding fingernails. Welts sliced open in the skin and pulled apart to reveal something I shouldn’t be seeing. Fresh streams of blood ran in rivers over the bath to paint the tiles crimson.

The water was red, everything was red. The screen blacked out. When it cleared, my mother held a baby out, smiling and moving her mouth. She was saying the same thing over and over again. I could read her lips because I recognized the movement, she was saying a name.

La Roux.

It was over in seconds. I hugged the phone to my chest and squeezed my eyes shut to stop the sting of tears. Even without feeling Leila’s emotions, I’d seen everything through her eyes as though I were there too. It was so vivid, so frightening. My feet tapped erratically, and I scratched at the warm skin under my collar.

I must not cry at work, I must not cry at work.

I blinked wildly, chewing on my lip. My thoughts scrambled as I tried to make sense of what I’d seen. It was clear my mother had been attacked by the witch, but what did that have to do with me? Why did that make Leila hate me so much?

I shivered like a shaggy dog, pulled the chip out of the phone, and shoved them both in my pocket. I needed to find someone who could read lips. I needed to know what was said.

“You done there, Roo? I need to go.” Alvin banged on the door.

“Sorry, I’m coming.” I swallowed a few times and pinched my cheeks, then took a deep breath and opened the door with a fake smile.

Alvin hopped from foot to foot, frowning. He shoved past me.

If Leila saw that every night, no wonder she was damaged. A witch had killed my mother, and I’d barely escaped with my life. The only thing I liked about the memory byte was that my mother had fought for me. Why else would the witch have look so frightened? Icy cold fingers tickled my skin when I realized the real reason my sister hated me. The witch hadn’t been afraid of my mother, or Leila. It was the baby she tried to claw out.

The witch had been afraid of me.

Chapter 4

“Thank God you’re back,” Kitty said.

There was a line at the bar.

I avoided eye contact and tried to swerve around her, but she took hold of my shoulder. “You okay, babe? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

She didn’t know the half of it.

I nodded. If I spoke about it, I’d cry, so I didn’t.

We cleared the line, and Kitty disappeared out back I was left with a terrible thought. The witch had red lips—like mine.

While I tidied the bar, a multitude of questions flooded my mind. Why had the witch been afraid of a baby? Did I somehow absorb her powers? Had I siphoned them from her right then and there? What the hell was I? Not a witch, but not entirely human either, I was something in between.

I surveyed the bar to see if I had time to get away and speak to my friend. The customers were happy, the kitchen crew had either gone home or were enjoying themselves on the dance floor, and Alvin swept up a broken bottle under a restaurant table. The back room would be empty. I pushed past the swinging doors to join Kitty, but almost smacked into her. Her full ice bucket connected with my shin. Ouch!

I opened my mouth to curse, but stopped when I noticed her face. She stared at something past my shoulder and momentarily lost her careful composure and seductress persona. “Hubba hubba. I think I need to go to confession,” she said.

“Why?” I tried to turn around, but she held me back.

“Don’t look,” she squeaked, then coughed delicately and lowered her voice to a raspy husk. “Because I’m having sinful thoughts about melting this ice over that devilishly hot body. He’s certainly not from around here.” She shoved the bucket into my hands and pushed me backwards so she had room to stumble past. Recovering with a sashay and a saunter, she made her way to the counter where a tall, tanned man stood.

I wouldn’t exactly call him devilish. He was blonde—are devils blonde? His short hair was impeccably groomed and styled at the top, the kind of way that took hours to make it look like it took minutes. His stubble was perfectly trimmed—a designer five o’clock shadow. The only devilish thing about him was the full arm tattoo peeking out from under his crisp, white shirt sleeve on one side. It also showed slightly higher up over his collared neck. Everything about him screamed money, control and influence. Except the ink. That screamed something else.

His lips twitched at the corner, and I narrowed my eyes. What was he smiling at? Had he heard Kitty’s words through the haze of sound?

“Oh, give me a break,” I mumbled and went cross-eyed. Kitty had found another conquest, and that left me lugging the heavy load. She was a predator, that woman, I swear. I stumbled over to the ice trough, dropped half the ice on the floor and almost slipped to land on my butt. “Seriously?” I hissed to the ice.

I glanced over my shoulder and spotted Kitty heading back in my direction. Her face was contorted into an expression I could only describe as horrified or mortified, or maybe constipated. I smirked, then caught myself, breathed in deeply and tried again. I gave her my best sincere smile.

“He called me Ma’am,” she said, and took the empty bucket from my hands. “How dare he? I am not a Ma’am. I’m a sexy, young, successful, independent woman who—” She stopped mid-sentence and looked at me, green eyes blazing. “Well, he asked for you, didn’t he?”

“What? I don’t know him.” I snatched the bucket back.

“He asked for you by name. Don’t be shy, your rudeness is keeping the customer waiting.” She pushed me in the direction of the blue-eyed stranger, making an embarrassing show of my reluctance. “I have to perform soon anyway,” she said as if she had better things to do. “Just keep an eye on the bar while I put my game face on.”

She gave me one last shove and sauntered out back.

Her push sent me flying, and I tripped over my feet to land in front of the stranger with a humph. To make matters worse, the music paused between songs and I yelled, “Can I help you?”

Heat rose to my cheeks in the silence and I imagined my whole face painted red. The music started, and I looked down at my feet, took a deep breath and started again. When I caught his eyes, words fled. They were different—one as clear as the deep blue ocean, the other also blue, but spliced with muddy clouds in the turbulent water. It was as though each eye belonged to a different person. I almost sighed like a school girl. They were amazing. Simply amazing and his dark lashes were full and framed the masterpiece within perfectly. Hang on. I squinted, they looked vaguely familiar.

“La Roux?” He pronounced my name correctly. Maybe he was French, like my name.

I cleared my throat. “Yes, do I know you?”

“No, but you know my brother, Tommy. He told me to look you up when I arrived.” His voice was smooth and hypnotic—a dangerous combination with those eyes.

Wowsers, this was Cash? His neat and trim exterior wasn’t at all what I expected for a beach bum, although his well-toned physique was. I stared like a loser for a minute. Something didn’t add up, and it wasn’t the fact he wore fancy leather loafers in country Western Australia. No, it was because he used my full name. Nobody did that. I’d worked hard for people to forget who I’d been in the city—the girl feared and hated for almost being a witch. My hand fluttered to my collar in a nervous reaction and his gaze flicked down too.

“How did you know my full name?” I asked. The mild panic must have crept into my eyes because he took a step backwards. “Everyone here calls me Roo.”

He scrubbed the back of his neck and then scanned the room like he had somewhere welled to be. “Tommy told me. Look, can I get a drink? whiskey, if it’s not too much to ask?”

Jeez, I was just asking, no need to get grumpy. I glared at him while I pulled a glass from the drying rack and placed it on the counter. He was full of inconsistencies—his accent, for one. It was almost non-existent and, apart from saying my name like he was French, his language was without a pattern or distinguishing lilt that pointed to his origin. He could’ve hailed from anywhere.

“Ice?” I asked.

“No.”

“Top shelf or bottom.”

“Anything.”

Oh-kay. I chose the closest whiskey and poured the amber liquid into the glass.

“More,” he said.

I raised my brows and added another shot. He swiped the glass from under the bottle and emptied it in one gulp.

“You must be thirsty.”

“What else you got?” He examined me. A slight crinkle around his eyes gave me the impression he thought I was curious, not the other way around.

I pulled a menu from the display rack next to him and unfolded it flat on the bar. I was just about to make a retort about which ‘potion’ he might need to give him a better personality when he grunted. Surprised, I looked up. He bent over and groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. Sweat broke out across his brow and tendons pulled taut in his neck. His palms smacked onto the bar and I jumped, almost knocking over the whiskey bottle. He murmured something under his breath. Was he talking to me? He seemed to be talking to someone.

“Dude, you okay? You don’t look so good.” I laid my fingers on his hand. His skin burned like fire and, up close, I could see fine scars scattered over his left arm that traveled to his jawline. I hadn’t noticed the old wounds under the tattoos.

His head snapped up to reveal white, cloudy irises. I jerked my hand back, heart racing but the second I lifted my touch, his eyes bled back to that exquisite mix of blue and brown.

“What was that?” He stood back, scowled and rubbed his hand where I’d touched him.

“You’re asking me?” I took stock of the room but no one was watching. I lowered my voice. “Your eyes went white.” I picked up the white paper menu and waved it in front of his face for effect. “White.”

He regarded me silently, then ran his hand through his hair, messing up the neatly combed style. He cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and wiped his palms on his shorts. With tousled hair, he didn’t look so anally retentive. I wondered what had happened to make him so uptight.

Just as I was about to put him in the too-hard-basket, he surprised me and apologized. “Sorry about that. I get these blinding headaches, literally. Too much sun.” He fished out his wallet and threw a black credit card on the counter. The closeness of his arm gave me a chance to study the tattoo. Blue and purple clouds swirled up his skin, overlaid with some sort of constellation map etched in thin black lines. My eyes followed the lines up his forearm to his bicep pushing at the edge of his sleeve.

He fidgeted with the opening of his wallet. “What are you looking at?”

Oh, for crying out loud! Mate, if a girl is checking out your guns, you should just smile and take the compliment.

“Nice tatts,” I said. “What do they mean?”

He gaped and stepped backwards, but quickly recovered his composure. “You can see them?”

“Well, yeah. They’re like, all over your arm. You’ve picked the wrong shirt if you’re trying to hide them. They’re pretty unusual. What is it? Some sort of star map?”

“You’ve never seen this type of marking before? Not even on your own body?” He stared at me like he wanted to see what was under my clothes.

Half of me got a thrill from that. The other half fumed. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I don’t have tattoos. Was there something else you actually wanted to drink?”

His eyes narrowed, and he gave me a tight lipped smile. He stepped away. “Fine. If that’s the way you want to play it. Can you just get two of whatever and bring it over? Tommy’s towards the back?” Without waiting for my response, he spun on his heel and left.

A please would have been nice.

The two brothers couldn’t be further apart in terms of personality—one so cheery, the other so serious. Tommy dressed with little regard to fashion but Cash, with his expensive, pressed clothes and black credit card, looked like he had a personal shopper. You didn’t get a card like that being a surf bum, no, you got them by running the world from an Ivory Tower. He was an enigma, and I didn’t believe for a minute his seizure was from too much sun.

It’s none of your business, my nagging inner voice said.

Right. I had a few cocktails to make and deliver. I eyed the mostly male and sweaty crowd on the dance floor. I didn’t look forward to fighting my way through, especially after Kitty’s act started. I picked up the discarded credit card. Cash Samson. Strange. His brother’s last name was Holloway, I was sure of it.

Cocktails.

I jumped. Right. I had a job to do. Jeez, my subconscious was a nag. Sometimes I felt like I had no control over my thoughts at all.

I chose the girliest drink I could find: ‘Love Potion Number Nine’. I hummed the tune while pulling ingredients from the fridge and laying them on the counter.

“Psst,” Kitty hissed as she poked her head through the swinging kitchen door. She wore more makeup than Courtney on her show nights, with glittering silver lids and sparkles on her cheeks. The frills of her red dress battled to get out the door.

“So? What’s the deal with Your Godliness?” she asked, then made a face. “I mean Devilishness—wait, that’s not a word.”

“It’s Tommy’s brother. He’s in town surfing, or something.” As if that explained everything. I couldn’t go into more detail because I was concentrating—a bit of ice here, a bit of vanilla there, add some strawberries and vodka ... and voilà, we had a lady. I sniffed the sweet perfume of my creation and added just one more shot of vodka. He needed a little social lubricant tonight. I turned the blender on and placed two martini glasses on the bar, but when I thought about the pain he’d been in earlier, I had an attack of conscience. Maybe I should spell his drink to help with his headaches. I’d done it before—a little of my activated saliva slipped into a drink and hey, presto, no more headaches.

I turned the blender off and said to Kitty, “I’ll turn your music on before I take these down the back, okay?”

Her eyes unfocused as she stared at the place where Cash had disappeared. “I’ll bet you he’s got rocks for abs. All that pushing and pumping on the surfboard, mmm. All those clothes, so crisp and neat.” She turned her fiery gaze on me. “Babe, he’s guaranteed dynamite in the sack. You can’t contain all that manliness without consequences. He’s like a caged tiger. Rroww.” Her manicured hand appeared through the door and made a clawing action.

“Hopeless. You’re absolutely hopeless.” I slopped the cocktail into the glasses and sighed. “You have a one track mind my girl.”

“Would you be a sweetie and dim the lights?” She pouted and withdrew to wait for her cue. I put the drinks on a round, metal tray then moved to the edge of the bar where the sound and light system sat. After turning a few knobs, the lights dimmed everywhere except on top of the bar. The music faded, and a hush fell over the once raucous crowd. I picked up the live microphone.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to the ever so delightful, Miss Kitty Muse,” I said in my best announcer voice and pressed play.

The small crowd cheered.

How on earth was I going to get two overflowing glasses across the room, in the dark, without touching anyone? I plopped the awaiting blocks of dry ice into the cocktails and watched as smoke curled over the rim, then waited for the distraction Kitty’s performance would provide.

Thankfully, the punchy electric chords to No Doubt’s, I’m Just a Girl, blared, and I slipped out the second Kitty popped her pouty face through the door. She had swapped her simple black uniform for a slinky red dress that fanned out at the knees, accentuating her hourglass figure. The dress put her assets shamelessly on display, and all eyes were on her as she danced up to the counter singing and swaying until she found her waiting stool. With one foot snaking in front of the other, she lifted herself to prance across the L-shaped bar. Everyone in the front row would have had an entirely different show if her tulle petticoat didn’t conceal her undergarments.

I stuck to the walls and made my way past the cheering patrons. I guessed the evening’s cabaret performance was a hit because everyone squished toward the front, making my job easy. I had zero collar reactions. Success in my book.

It wasn’t hard to find the brothers in their booth, engrossed in conversation. Tommy had removed his hat and looked puffy eyed, but settled. He idly tapped his fingers in time to the music, his lids blinking in slow motion. Yep. Drunk as a skunk. Cash sat side-on in the booth, his arm casually draped over the back of the bench seat. From the aggressive lecture he was delivering, he wasn’t pleased with his brother’s state and, from the way Tommy ignored him, he didn’t care.

“Here you go, fellas.” I placed the cocktails on coasters in front of them.

They paused, mid-sentence and blinked at me.

“Your drinks?” I motioned to the obvious. My pulse quickened for a second. Maybe I’d overdone it with the pink umbrellas? The show escalated behind me and the crowd whooped and applauded. I handed the credit card to Cash, who took it without a thanks. Tommy watched, silently moping. Being an asshole must be contagious.

Part of me refused to admit defeat. It was the same part that liked to annoy rude customers. I tried for a little more conversation. “You guys are missing the show.”

Tommy opened his mouth to speak when the music skipped to a halt and an ear-piercing scream took its place.

“Roo!” Kitty shrieked.

An eerie silence fell.

The tray slipped from my fingers and crashed to the ground.

Elbows first, I worked through the sweaty crowd blocking the bar. Blood pounded in my ears, and my breath caught in my throat. I needed to get to my friend.

Beep.

Beep.

Damned collar.

“Let me through,” I cried. “Kitty, are you—get, get out of my way!” I shoved a meaty arm aside and pushed through to find a wild-eyed Kitty crouched on the bar, red dress pooled at her ankles. She tugged her hair with one hand and with the other, pointed toward the kitchen. I followed her gaze.

Alvin swayed in the scullery doorway. Blood spilled from his mouth. Sweat dripped from his face and his complexion had paled. He used one hand to hold himself up, and the other flew to his mouth. He convulsed like he was going to vomit.

“You need to go outside,” he gasped between his fingers. He lurched forward and vomited blood.

No one moved to help Alvin, except me.

Grateful for my long legs, I hurdled the counter and closed the gap to grab his shoulders, preventing him from falling face first to the hard floor. The metallic smell of blood stung my nose, and I gagged. I took a deep, shuddering breath. “Alvin.” I surveyed his face for answers. “What happened? Are you all right?”

He tried to look at me through heavy lids. His lips sputtered, failing to form words. This was so wrong. The alarm from my collar grew louder and quicker with my continued contact.

Beep. Beep.

Beep. Beep.

My friend grew heavier in my arms. I whirled around and screamed into the bickering horde, “Why are you just standing there? Call an ambulance.” My eyes darted to Kitty, and I said her name. She snapped out of her daze, nodded, then disappeared.

Beep. Beep.

Beep. Beep.

Alvin’s head jerked again. He choked, fingers acting as ineffectual gates over his lips.

“No,” I whispered as he slithered in a dead weight through my arms and fell to the floor. I rolled him to his side, in the recovery position. He convulsed, about to erupt. “Alvin, are you—oh crap, pfft.” I wrinkled my face in disgust and spat the blood he’d just sprayed on my face. It was dark red and vicious, and it tingled my tongue.

His blood shouldn’t have felt like that.

Deep down I knew what the tingle meant, but I didn’t want to admit it. I got the same feeling when dying Kitty’s hair. It must be a hex. Someone had hexed him. But who?

“Outside ... please,” he moaned and hunched into a fetal position, clutching his middle, panting. “If you don’t ... she’s going to kill me ... please, go out.”

Beep. Beep.

Beep. Beep.

“Who? Who’s trying to kill you?” I was desperate. I’d never seen him cry before. I wiped blood from my face to clear my vision and whipped my head around wildly, looking for a solution, anything.

Cash emerged from the crowd like an apparition. “He’s been hexed,” he said, confirming my suspicion. But it didn’t make sense. I didn’t do it and, if I didn’t, it could mean only one thing: there was a witch in town. But they were all supposed to be dead. “The bleeding won’t stop until you do as he says.” He pried Alvin’s fingers from my arms, but I held tight. I wouldn’t let go. Cash huffed. “La Roux, it’s like a time bomb set to go off until the fail safe is triggered. Go out, if that’s what he wants. It’s probably what he’s been programmed to say.”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Cash yanked me from my friend and pushed me away. I fell through the swinging door and landed on my ass in a puddle of vomited blood. Pain splintered from the crash site and a new spray of blood slapped the white, tiled walls.

Fuck, that hurt.

I clambered up and half-crawled toward the back door. I needed to get outside and save my friend.

I burst through to darkness.

Chapter 5

I shivered and hugged myself despite the warm breeze tickling my skin. Waves crashed on the shore below and the sound of Nightjars calling goodnight could be heard in the distance. The tranquil atmosphere was a sharp contrast to the mayhem inside. I gathered my senses and squinted into the dark, trying to scan my surroundings.

A few years back, a bush fire had left the vegetation on the dunes devastated. Skeletal frames of trees reached for the sky, begging for relief. When the wind moved their boughs, moonlit shadows rippled in the ghostly parking lot below. There were many cars, but no drivers—no murderers or villains and no witches. A walk through the lot turned up nothing, so I jogged back towards the kitchen entrance with a traitorous thought that perhaps Alvin was taking drugs.

I had one foot on the porch steps when a female voice croaked behind me. “Did you like my gift, sister?”

I spun to face the speaker, but she was cloaked in darkness.

She broke into eerie laughter that echoed along the dunes. “The boy’s illness. I made it just for you.” Did she want me to thank her or something? “It’s a particularly nasty version of stomach cancer. You took your time coming out, so it’s another form of cancer by now, ear, nose, or throat perhaps. It’s progressing rather quickly don’t you think?”

“Show yourself.” My steady voice hid my fear.

To my left, a shadow peeled away from the shrubbery crowding the beach path. That voice, it sounded familiar, but my brain wouldn’t compute. Nothing made sense. The body slithered closer, just outside the circle of light created by the porch. A whisper escaped from the darkness of my mind. “Leila… is that you?”

I took a step forward but intuition screamed from the pit of my belly. Stop. Her posture was wrong—hunched over and stiff—and her arms hung loose at her side. She shuffled a step and the light from the porch spilled over her features. I inhaled sharply, shock resonating through my core. It was Leila, but inky stains swam across her eyes in turbulent waves. I covered my mouth as bile burned the back of my throat.

I’d seen eyes like those before—in Leila’s nightmare.

“Why do you let them collar you, sister?” Her facial features were Botox-stiff but her lilting tone showed her confusion. She flicked her head to the side like a bird.

Sister? That thing was not my sister. She shambled closer, and I stumbled backwards, groping behind me. Her torso shifted from side to side as though scratching her back against a pole. My skin crawled. She stood taller, straighter with each sudden movement as if every step was an adjustment to the unfamiliar body. Leila’s black hair whipped about her face and her white nightdress hung from her body like a scarecrow’s, trailing in the dirt as she moved. The thing that was not Leila slowly advanced.

My eyes told me one thing but my heart wanted another. Leila was home safe, and this was a nightmare—maybe, I was still watching the memory byte. I closed my eyes and tapped my fist on my lips in a silent prayer. Please let it be a dream.

What did you expect? That little voice intruded again. You’ve been denying your connection to witchcraft for years; it was bound to catch up with you sometime. She’s come for you.

The roar of crashing waves clashed with a high-pitched cackle. “He didn’t want you, you know.” The shuffling and dragging grew louder, insistent. “He thought you were a mistake. You weren’t good enough for him, Kiya, so he left to find another. But we know the truth don’t we? You are too much witch for him. He fears you, just like he fears me.”

Who the hell was Kiya, and who was He? I whirled around to find somewhere to escape but was almost against the back wall of The Cauldron. When I turned back, she was an arm’s length from my face. I cried out in surprise—the sound echoed by a murder of crows from the skeleton trees. Thirty or more dark, shimmering splotches clustered along the branches.

“I’m not your sister,” I said, heart pumping. “Who are you?”

“You don’t recognize me? Even like this, in my full glory?” She laughed and did a pirouette. Leila’s nightdress whirled. “I am Petra. We are friends, how could you forget? Tell me how a witch like you acquired permanency in a body, tell me how you drank from the cup of life and we can be sisters for eternity.”

Um, I was born with it? She must have confused me with another witch. My thoughts flickered uncomfortably to the memory byte. Could a witch possession at birth have caused some sort of fusion? My fingers hovered over my red lips. Am I evil?

My back hit the side of The Cauldron’s porch and I realized she’d been inching towards me. A few people had gathered at the back door, watching from the shelter of the kitchen. Shit. I couldn’t give myself away. One slip, and my carefully balanced lie would fall. How was I going to get out of this?

Well, panicking won’t help.

I faced the witch. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was born in this body. I don’t need to steal others or ‘acquire permanency’ and I didn’t drink from any cup. You’re insane.” A pang of guilt surged through me. Alvin’s attack was my fault; she wanted to impress me. What kind of twisted games did witches play?

She threw her head back and laughed. Her movements were smoother now, more fluid. She’d made a home in my sister’s body. Leila didn’t deserve that. She was a cow sometimes, but no one deserved that.

“Don’t deny it. I’ve seen you cast spells. You know witchcraft, just like me. You are a witch, admit it… but—” she strained her eyes to see me better “—but you are something else, too. You smell like them, but they don’t want you. You act like us, but you don’t want us.”

Seen me cast spells? I tried to remember a time I’d cast a hex in front of a witness. Never. Well, not that I knew of.

“I want the truth but my patience is running out. I will search this body’s memories for the answers you deny me.” Her inky eyes, Leila’s eyes, rolled until only the whites showed and she began to shudder. A sickening wet sound slapped from her lips as she trembled.

“For the love of—STOP!” I sprang at my sister’s body. My fingers dug into her shoulders. I didn’t want to see the horrible nightmare’s face on Leila. I wanted to see the face with hope glittering in her eyes when she gave me her jar. “Maybe things will be different,” she’d said. She’d wanted a new start. The promise of real sisterhood had been ripped away before it even began and I poured newfound fury into my arms.

How dare she take that away from me?

I shook her with all my might. “Get out!” I screamed. “Get out of my sister.”

With every push and pull, every jarring shake, my collar grew hotter, scalding my neck. I became vaguely aware of the expanding crowd, spilling onto the porch, fighting for a glimpse of the freak show, but I didn’t care. I wanted her out of my sister’s body and screamed in outrage.

Tears leaked from my eyes. Leila, or Petra—I didn’t know what to call her—continued to convulse. The collar seared my neck, and I smelled burning skin. I gave one final, almighty shove and her body flew into the air. Her hair covered her face as she fell before me. Shockwaves echoed in my body. No. I looked down, that was something else. Hot liquid sprayed from my neck, saturating my shirt and the dirt beneath. Something clattered to the ground behind me.

“Shit.” My hand flew to my neck, but touched only tender skin. I patted my soggy shirt, then touched my naked neck again. I searched the ground behind me and found the collar clasp destroyed and utterly useless. Reality hit. I’d broken the terms of my probation, only a few weeks from release. I dropped to the ground and picked up the filthy clasp. “No, no, no.” I turned the black box over, trying to figure out how I could fill it with fluid again and put it around my neck. If I couldn’t, they would arrest me. They would hate me. They would burn me. I didn’t even hear the alarm beep, I’d been too preoccupied.

Petra drew a loud, trembling breath. She scrambled to gain her footing and stood. Her eyes rolled back to black, and she pointed at me. “She is inside you,” she wheezed. “You are my sister. I was right. You did it.” She sniffed and pierced me with her accusation. “You can’t abandon me now. I have searched for you for so long and I’ve waited—oh, how I’ve waited.”

Everything came to me through a haze. I looked down at the clasp in my hand. It didn’t feel right—I didn’t feel right. My brain had hopped on a merry-go-round, and an electrical buzz grew around me in a swirl. The buzz seemed to come from the witch, from the crowd and from the birds in the trees. It was everywhere. I dropped the clasp and clutched my throat. I couldn’t breathe. Pure, unseen energy pushed in on me. I bent forward and braced myself on my knees, sucking in deep gulps of air. My vision doubled, then tripled, my eyes watered, and everything in front of me merged into one pulsating blur. What was happening? I could feel the world on my skin, and like a sentient being, it wanted to be felt. It was alive. It accepted me as it skipped over the hairs on my arms. I swayed forward and stumbled…

…right into her clammy arms.

“Let me taste you,” she said. “Give me your blood, your secrets. Blood cannot lie. I will see the truth.” Her energy reached for me, from around her body like dark, lashing tentacles. I flinched and struggled. How could I see that? Her eyes lit up, she hugged me tighter, immense strength pouring through her connection. “Perhaps we can stay in this world after all. Perhaps we don’t need to be slaves in theirs. Let me taste you and see how your body works. Oh sister, things are looking up.”

Over my dead body.

“No,” I tried to say, hoping the word punched through the thick vibrating air. “No,” I screamed louder.

Suddenly, I flew backwards, slammed against the wall, and cracked my head against the limestone. Agony radiated from my skull and I groaned. The crowd screamed and ran down the steps, some retreated into the parking lot, others hovered to watch.

My arms were splayed out next to me. I yanked but couldn’t move them. A force held me against the hard surface, like invisible manacles at my neck, wrists and ankles. Petra had somehow lifted me and held me with her will alone. I frowned. Telekinesis—I was sure of it. I’d heard it happened during the war, I’d just never seen it.

“You always were a recalcitrant one, Kiya.” Her voice was low and gravelly and her eyes glittered with rage. She walked to the edge of the porch, never taking her eyes off me. “Why do you insist on denying me the very thing that will keep our race fueled forever?”

“I’m not Kiya, and there is nothing left of your race.” I wheezed and blinked, the pressure at my neck spread to my entire body, so forceful it made my eyes water. “They’re all dead, and you’ll be next.”

“There are more of us than you could ever imagine.” She pointed her crooked finger at the trees lined with crows then circled around to point at the crowd. Because I refused to take my eyes off Petra, I heard, but couldn’t see, a collective gasp from the watchers. Fucking bystanders, I thought. What happened to helping your fellow man? It’s all fine and dandy to preach kindness, but when faced with the cold hard fact of risking your safety for someone else, it was a game of musical statues.

“The revolution is coming to each one of you,” Petra said. “No one is safe. We will accept your worthless souls as payment and you will rue the day you thought witches were the worst you had to face. Deals have been made, bargains struck. Your souls are destined to be the new world’s scapegoats.” She sniffed haughtily and looked at me as if we shared a secret. “Our souls will move outwards and onwards. But the others, they will be snuffed out. Poof”—she clapped her hands together—“annihilated.”

I blinked. Behind her, two shadows crept from the darkness of the parking lot. I blinked again. The force I’d felt earlier, the unified pressure pushing against me, had separated into unique vibrations that came off every living thing, like an aura or life-force. People buzzed louder than trees, the witch’s unique dark sensation grew stronger, but the shadows creeping around were blank, empty, like black holes. Terror exploded in my ribs like fireworks, sending sparks of adrenaline into the rest of my body. But I couldn’t move. Stuck. What was out there? I closed my eyes, trying to center my focus and calm myself. A trickle of warmth slid down the back of my neck. Sweat or blood?

“You need to be educated.” Petra’s words brought my gaze back to her. The hatred in her eyes mellowed, her brows lifted in the middle. “Don’t you see? We can be together forever if you would let me in. I can take us both to heaven, to paradise. We can evolve beyond this mortal coil.” Her gaze darkened again. “If you don’t let me in, I will take your body, anyway. Big sister always knows best.”

Petra pulled one arm back and swiped the air in front of her. Pain sliced through my mid-section and I grunted. Blood oozed from my body. White-hot needles stabbed the wound and spots danced across my vision. She clicked her tongue and frowned. “I missed.” She swiped the air again. This time blood sprayed from my neck to coat the witch in a shower of red. “That’s better.” Her tongue darted out as the droplets fell on her face. She smiled and swished a mouthful like savoring a good wine. Then her expression changed to horror—disbelief. Slowly, a crooked finger rose to point at me, a smile slithered across her face. In a blink, she stood in front of me. My terror tried to escape in a scream, but came out a choked sob. Her finger touched my chest, and she leaned in close, seizing my chin and sniffing around my face.

“I see you,” she whispered, and frowned. “I taste you, Nephilim. I don’t know how I missed it before. All this time, you were right in front of me, pretending to be something you are not.” She shook her head and stepped back. “But you were a mistake, they all said you were a reject.”

I could breathe again. Barely. The blood leaking from my wound slowed. The pain eased. My wounds were knitting together.

“I’m going to take you, anyway.” She opened her lips and black smoky tendrils curled from her mouth in a rolling fog—I felt the frequency of her life-force in the smoke. The wisps found my aching skin and trailed my stomach. Every time it hit a patch of blood, my skin tingled like a tongue held to a battery. The smoke prodded and probed, looking for my wounds, the opening to my insides. There were none, my skin had healed. There was no hiding it now; my freakish nature had been exposed. The smoke snapped back into her body like a rubber band and she screamed like a harpy. She smeared her fingers across my smooth skin, wiping the blood to get a clear view.

“Why can’t I get in?”

Chapter 6

“NOW!” a male voice shouted.

Chaos erupted. Two shadows converged from the dark sides to land on Petra.

Released from the telekinetic hold, I fell but landed on my feet. I’d lost my focus on the surrounding energy and it merged into one force pushing down on me. What the hell was happening? I dipped my head, hanging onto the sounds of the struggle in front of me, hoping for clarity. Scuffles, grunts and harpy screams pounded against the rhythm of my pulse.

I clutched my stomach and touched my neck. Although healed, pain lingered at the wound site as new skin pulled tight. My vision cleared but anger bubbled beneath the surface. My fingertips burned.

The crowd’s protests grew louder, matching the roaring in my ears. Living, pulsing energy thrummed against my body. I couldn’t take it anymore.

I let it in.

My eyes bulged, muscles contracted, and I thought I would snap. I’d swallowed an electric bomb, the current zinged through my body, whizzing, bouncing, trying to find an out.

Holy shit!

My head jerked up and my hands flew out to point at Petra as I scrambled down the porch, stumbling like a drunk. If I was going to explode, I’d damn well do it all over her. Three shadows struggled together and I couldn’t see a clear path to the witch. Who were the other two? Initially, I’d felt terror at the black holes, but now I could see they were people. I didn’t want to hurt someone I cared about and tried to hold back. But it was too late. The energy ripped through my body and out my fingertips, heading straight for the group.

Oh, no! Cash and Tommy. I screamed and closed my eyes, unable to watch.

Like a pressure cooker blowing off steam, the heaviness inside me lightened.

Silence. Then, sirens wailed in the distance, and I didn’t know whether to be relieved or scared. I kept my eyes squeezed shut. If I didn’t see, it didn’t happen.

“Open your eyes, Roo,” Tommy said, breathing hard. “Are you okay?” His trembling hands tightened on my shoulders. “Probie, we got her. It’s okay.”

“But I...” I studied his face for evidence of what I’d just done—the explosion. He shushed and stepped between me and an idiot filming on his smart phone. I cocked my head and inspected Tommy with my new energy sense. He was definitely one of the black holes. I couldn’t feel him like I could feel the energy humming off the crowd, or the witch, or the world behind us. I looked at the pair thrashing about on the floor; Cash had pinned Petra to the ground, his biceps bulged with strain but his face was flat, unreadable. I couldn’t sense his energy either.

Who are they? What are they?

A crescendo of squawks and screeches came from the sky as blue and red lights flooded the parking lot. The police had arrived. I stumbled back to see hundreds of swarming black splotches against the night sky. Crows. They flew towards us. The witch cackled from where Cash had her pinned and pain contracted through my mid-section, a reminder of her attack.

Petra looked me in the eye. “This is not over, sister. I will come for you. We will draw our last breath on this earth together. I’m not giving up.”

Then the sky fell. Birds dropped and swooped, using their bodies as missiles and aiming at Petra’s enemies—Cash, Tommy and myself.

“No!” Cash roared. “Somebody find me a—” His words were lost in the black, screeching turmoil of feathers. I threw my hands up to shield my face and Tommy threw his body in front of mine. He dropped to one knee and put a hand against the wall on either side of me, leaving his back exposed to the deafening murder. We were in the grip of a hurricane of feathers, beaks and cacophony.

When the noise eventually abated, we were petrified in place, breathing hard. The smell of sweat, dirt and blood singed my nostrils. Tommy didn’t move.

“Tommy,” I said and nudged.

A moan escaped from his mouth and I tried to stand, but couldn’t free my limbs.

“Tommy, you need to get out of the way. I’m stuck.”

He finally shifted back and sank to his knees. Concerned, I reached out to touch him.

“I’m okay,” he said, avoiding my touch.

He didn’t look okay. I stood up, and he tried too, but ended in a half slouch, hands on knees. I peeked over his shoulder; bright red blood stained the back of his white t-shirt.

“Shit, Tommy, you’re bleeding.” I touched his shoulder. Tiny lacerations across his back seeped blood.

I started to assess the damage but Cash charged over. “She’s gone.” He grabbed Tommy roughly, lifting him by the shoulders and spun him around. “Did you see where she went?” he growled and shook his brother.

Couldn’t he see the kid was injured?

“Tommy! I told you to secure the perimeter,” he shouted, searching his face for answers. He glanced at me. “Where did she go?”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Tommy eyed him off in a daze. “Whoa, that was my first witch, bro. That’s what you deal with every day? Whoa.”

“The witch, Tommy, focus—did you see which way she went?”

“No wonder Ma wanted me to come with you. You’ve got your priorities wrong. That shit is nasty, you gotta—”

“Fuck it, Tommy.” Cash shook him again.

“Hey!” I shoved Cash away. He grunted, stepped back and looked at me, wide eyed. “Can’t you see he’s hurt?”

Cash jabbed a finger in my face. “You and I need to talk.”

“About the witch? I don’t know where she went. I’m more concerned about my sister.” I stood on tiptoes to peek over his shoulder. My sister lay motionless in the dirt behind him. “Leila... Leila.” I moved to join her but Cash held me back by the shoulder.

“There’s nothing you can do for her,” he said.

More curious spectators, finally thinking it safe enough, filed through the door. Questions fired at us. Cash kept one hand on me and the other rose to stop the crowd. “Stay back,” he called.

They screamed accusations.

“She’s a witch!”

“Somebody hold her down!”

“Burn her.”

I glared at the traitors I’d served drinks to all night, now calling for my head.

“You’re coming with me,” Cash growled into my ear and hauled me away.

“Is she alive?” I asked and waved in my sister’s direction, tripping over my feet as I tried to keep up with him.

No answer. Just air blowing from his nostrils and tendons bulging in his jaw as we neared the access path to the beach.

“Babe!” Kitty pushed through the crowd and tried to follow but Cash barked at her to stay put. She and Tommy had to guard Leila’s body before the paramedics arrived in case the crowd did something. The command in his voice could only come from the experience of managing others, and the methodical way he moved projected lethal confidence. Well, I was never good with authority.

I yanked my arm away and stepped toward my friend. “Kitty!” I cried.

“We don’t have time for this.” Cash scooped me up and threw me over his shoulder like a rag doll.

I slammed my fists into his back. “Hey! Let me go!”

He stomped to the beach path with me thrashing about and pounding my fists. We were halfway down the path when he put me down on the sandy concrete steps. The light from the parking lot barely hit our faces.

“You need to quit playing games,” he snapped. “Show me your markings.” He grabbed my shirt and lifted.

“You fucking pervert!” I slapped him away and tried to run, but he cinched my wrists and held me close.

“What? No. I’m not a pervert. Just tell me who you work with.”

“Let go of me.” I spat the words through gritted teeth.

“If you don’t tell the truth, I’ll make you.”

We faced off, inches from each other, fire in our eyes.

I squinted mine, he narrowed his.

He didn’t let go.

“I told you before. I don’t have any tattoos so whatever you’re thinking is wrong. Just let me go see my sister and friend.”

“I’m never wrong.”

“Gah!” I closed my eyes and focused on the atmosphere. Apart from the waves and his breathing, it was quiet. The buzz from the crowd had diluted with distance, which reminded me I couldn’t feel Cash either. He was invisible like his brother, and that, I didn’t trust. I didn’t know what was happening to me, but I knew I needed to trust my instincts. I opened my eyes to see him standing there, flesh and blood.

He studied me right back with dark, suspicious eyes.

“You’re invisible,” I said. “I can’t feel you like the others.”

“I am a hunter. Wait, you can’t feel me? You mean an aura, or something?” He let go and stepped back. He folded his arms across his chest as a male does when trying to assert his strength.

“I... Oh.” I realized my mistake. “Fuck.” My cheeks burned, and I stared at my shadowed feet. I’d just admitted I was different. After a moment I said half-heartedly, “I’m not a witch. And what the hell do I care what you hunt?”

“Well, you should care. Word usually gets around to someone of your talents.” He cocked an eyebrow. “I’m impervious to witchcraft, among other things.”

“Someone of my talents?” I scoffed. I knew what he meant. “If you’re so great, why haven’t I heard of you before?”

He shrugged. “There’s really only one of us as far as I know.”

“What does ‘really’ mean?” I used my fingers to mimic quotation marks. “Tommy’s a hunter, too, isn’t he?”

He frowned and narrowed his eyes, creating dark chasms where they used to be. “He is? How do you know that?”

“Because ... I do.”

“Right. We don’t have time for games. The police are here. If you tell me who you’re aligned with, I might be able to help.” He leaned in closer, sniffed the air and lowered his tone. “What are you?”

“None of your business, that’s what I am.”

He made a grab for me but I flinched and stumbled. I flailed my arms like a windmill. I wasn’t ready to die, and that’s exactly what would happen if I fell down the concrete steps to the beach below. Cash grabbed my shredded shirt. In one swift motion, his other arm slipped behind my back and pulled me in close. He smelled like dirt and blood. His fingers stabbed into my hair and yanked painfully until my neck was exposed. Fear paralyzed my body. Yikes, he was strong. Play dead. Play dead. But surely he would hear my pounding heart. I tensed as he leaned in until his nose touched the skin beneath my ear. He inhaled deeply and damned if my body didn’t melt into his.

The tension fled from his body and he straightened, holding me at arm’s length. His confused expression was so comical I almost burst out laughing. But instinct told me the danger hadn’t passed. His fingers were suddenly on my eyelids, pulling them apart by the lashes and then they were in my mouth, inspecting my teeth.

“I’m not a bloody horse,” I garbled and swatted his hands.

“You smell…” He was plainly calculating something that didn’t add up. “You smell nice.”

“Well, you certainly know how to compliment a lady.” I laughed. Blood, sweat and dirt covered me from head to toe. He must be crazy, certifiably insane.

“No, you don’t understand. You don’t show signs of decay and you don’t emit odors like a witch, but you behave like one… except for the aura sensing. They can’t do that.” He shook his head. “You see my markings, but you say you have none and you’ve no understanding of what they are. I’m stumped.”

Behave like a witch? “Hey!” My anger boiled, and I jabbed him in the chest. “I don’t destroy lives and manipulate the weak. I don’t steal bodies of innocent women and I most certainly don’t make people spit up blood for fun.”

He slanted a look at me. “Then what do you do?”

My energy fizzled. My knees went weak, and I slipped down onto the cold concrete step to face the ocean, ass landing hard. Maybe if I turned my back, it would all disappear—the confusion, the weird buzzing, the questions. I clutched my middle, a slight stitch was all that remained of my recently shredded torso and my neck was healed completely. “I’m not a witch,” I said, trying to convince myself as much as him.

“I know.”

“Huh?” I looked up. He crouched down to my level.

“La Roux, if you were a witch—in the traditional sense—your teeth would be decayed and you would smell like rotting meat. The smell would be so putrid that even humans pick it up in the final stages of possession. Your very presence would give me goose bumps and you wouldn’t look as human as you do. No, you’re something else, you’re just not telling me.” He waited.

“I don’t know you, Cash. I’m certainly not going to tell you my life story. In fact, I think we should get back. I need to check on my sister.” I stood, brushed the sand off my pants and moved back up the walkway.

“Why do you heal so fast, and why can you stop my headaches by simply touching me?”

His words stopped me and I turned around. Blue and red lights flickered across his features. “Say that last one again?”

“Earlier, in the bar when I was in pain, you touched me. The instant you did, my headache disappeared. That’s not something a normal human can do.”

“Is it a Nephilim thing to do?”

He froze. “You tell me.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” I threw my hands up in the air.

“I can’t tell you. You have to tell me, that’s the way it goes. You saw my markings first.”

“What the fuck? The way what goes?” I growled and left him on the steps.

A post-traumatic numbness settled in my bones. I didn’t care what he said, I just wanted to go home, to any home. Kitty’s key was still in my backpack.

“You’re making a big mistake. We can help each other. La Roux!” he called, but I was done listening, especially when he called me by my full name. It made me feel like the scared little girl I used to be. I waved goodbye over my shoulder as I crested the top of the steps and into the parking lot.

Commotion covered the scene. I ducked past and hid my face until I found the paramedics and asked about Leila. They said I’d have to speak with the hospital. She was stable but not responding. I watched as they wheeled her into the back of the ambulance. Maybe I should have been feeling more. But I didn’t. I felt only relief—relief that the witch was gone.

Leila’s not your real sister. She didn’t care for you the way a real sister should.

Still, she suffered. Everyone deserved to have someone care for them, someone to miss them when they were gone. Who would miss me?

A handful of police made their way through the crowd shining flashlights into faces, checking identities. Others surveyed the scene with hands poised over their weapons and one cop had a portable electromagnetic field detector in his hand. He’d find nothing. The witch was gone.

I felt his life-force before he said anything. An invisible thrumming crawled up my skin, a warm sensation at my back. Aura-sensing was becoming easier. But where had the skill come from?

“Roo,” the familiar voice said. I turned to find my probation officer, Jed.

My hand rushed to my neck. “I’m sorry Jed. It broke. I don’t know what happened. It exploded when she attacked me.”

He looked at me with sad brown eyes and rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb. “You know I don’t want to do this Roo, but I have to.”

Jed and I had grown fairly close over the past three years, he was one of my biggest supporters. I searched his face for understanding, but his emotions hid beneath a mask of cool indifference—his work face. I’d seen it before when he’d had to take a call, or someone asked him something law-enforcementy. A heavy weight settled on my shoulders. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but he took his job seriously. I could guess.

He pulled handcuffs from around his back. “La Roux Urser, you are under arrest. You are not obliged to say anything, but anything you say or do may be used as evidence against you in court. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” I held out my hands. The cuffs he secured were made of glass. I raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, these are standard issue for witch suspects. The glass insulates electricity. If you are a witch, you’re powers are ineffectual. Worst case scenario, you slit your wrists if you try to escape.”

“Charming.”

I’d seen freedom on the horizon but then my collar had exploded. How was I going to explain that? Coolness at my middle prompted a glance downwards. My shredded shirt gaped open to reveal my smooth flesh beneath. In that instant, I remembered somebody had their smart phone out, they could’ve captured everything. This was more serious than a probation violation.

I could burn for this.

Chapter 7

It took two hours to process me. That included EMF scans, a mug-shot, a humiliating shower in front of two guards and fingerprints taken post-finger-pricking for a blood and print sample. And if that wasn’t enough, they DNA-swabbed my mouth—all without removing the cuffs. Since the end of the war a few years ago, the lawful time to detain someone accused of witchcraft had been extended. “As long as we see fit” could mean anything.

Before I was assigned to the glass-encased, witch-holding cell, I asked to call Aunt Lucy. She didn’t pick up. Probably got wind of the situation and avoided me like the Black Plague. Jed gave me an orange juice, though, as a consolation prize. I wasn’t shocked Aunt Lucy didn’t want anything to do with me. It left me in the same position I’d been in for the last three years—on my own.

The light in my cell flickered. Irritated, I paced, and took my thoughts rambling back to the first time I suspected I was different. I might have been six or seven and was playing in a fresh rain puddle outside Leila’s psychologist’s office. I’d used one finger to poke the water and make tiny ripples until a thought popped into my head. It guided me to imagine the ripples turning into different shapes. I remember being thrilled when my daydream manifested before me, but my father must have seen what I was doing through a window because he’d bolted out of the psychiatrist’s office, stepped in the puddle and splashed my shapes to smithereens. He yelled at me, saying I was too young—whatever that meant.

“Why can’t you be normal,” he’d said. “Unless you want to be taken away, act like your sister.”

I’d fallen onto my backside in the scramble to get away, my face had tingled with shame. If he thought Leila was more normal than me, and she saw a doctor, what on earth was wrong with me? I tried to copy her for a few years after that. I dressed like she did, read the same books, and followed her like an annoying shadow. Eventually I grew bored and used my abilities in secret. Then the war came, and I understood how different I was. I was in danger—not just of a belting from my father, but of being persecuted by the world. It was easier to pretend to be normal after that.

Sleep tugged at my senses, so I lay down and glared at the glass walls of my cell. My bright overalls cast pink reflections on every surface and my eyes watered from the effect. Pink was the reserved color for witch offenders. Pink so they could tell us apart from the rest of the murderers, thieves and sex offenders.

I pulled my damp hair in front of my face to inspect the light tipped strands, all blood had been washed out. Having my clothes confiscated for evidence could be a good thing because finding Leila’s and my blood on the fabric would confirm what was filmed by the witness—that I was attacked. I hoped the video recorded had been confiscated too.

“Oh, shit.” I bolted upright. The memory byte had been buried deep in my jeans pocket. “Shit, shit, shit.” I pounded my fist on the cold wall next to me. Hell, they’d probably already found it. The memory was damning evidence that I could be a witch or, at least, had something to do with witches. I wasn’t even sure how to explain what had happened.

Okay, okay. Think, Roo, think. There are a few things going on here. First, the incident at The Cauldron heralded the return of witches. The Purge had failed. This wasn’t so bad for me because, hopefully, the PR shit-storm would be more important than my probation violation. Second, they only had video of my skin healing, my ability to cast a hex was not captured. I could claim the injury was only a scratch, but I didn’t like my chances, there had been a lot of blood. Third, the witch tried to possess me in front of everyone. Shouldn’t that absolve me of being possessed? I hoped so because that was the card I’d play. My whole defense would fall apart if they found the memory byte.

I yawned and fell back on the cot. My fingers ached for a computer so I could search for answers. I’d be looking up Nephilim and maybe revolutions. And Cash! He was just as intriguing. Maybe I’d find something out about his tattoos and why he was such a grumpy bum. I chewed my nails. He did seem to know a lot about witches. He said I wasn’t one—and after seeing the evil pour out of a real witch, I knew he was right.

What was I then? And why did Petra think I had the answers to her problems? The thought of her sickened me. One thing was certain, as long as I was in town, my friends would be in danger. I needed to get rid of Petra and disappear. Start again where nobody knew me.

The light flickered then cut out, cloaking the cell in darkness. I didn’t know the time, only that the sliver of sky through the high, cell window was pitch black. It had been hours since I’d left The Cauldron, my eyes burned and when I blinked, I imagined shadows dancing across the glass walls. Turning away I held my hands up for inspection. I’d chewed the tip of my nails off, leaving dark purple jagged edges, but that wasn’t what bothered me. Ever since my collar had come off, my fingertips had felt warm. They sizzled my tongue when I bit my nails. Maybe it was linked to my new sense? I groaned and rolled onto my side hugging the musky old blanket to my chest. I needed answers. I stared at the wall until my eyelids drooped. When I opened them, sunshine streamed through the window.

* * *

I wiped the sleep from my face and stared around the room.

The last time I’d been in jail, they didn’t have glass cells, just iron bars—what?

I’d never been in jail before. Even during my trial, I’d been released on bail. I shivered as the wrongness of my thought settled on me.

Why would I think that?

A shadow in the hallway snapped me out of my daze. I jumped and almost fell off the cot. A pink HAZMAT suit waddled up to the glass barrier and slapped the button that opened the sliding door. The suits had been employed during the war to avoid contamination by hexed bodily fluids. Ridiculous.

The door whooshed wide open.

I recognized the energy leaking through the cracks in the suit. “Jed?”

“Hi, Roo.” His voice came out hollow through the suit speaker. He waved down his body. “It’s insulated, so you can’t bewitch me.”

“You know that’s stupid, right? It’s still me,” I scoffed. “I’m not like that crazy witch. I would never do that to you, even if I could.” I’d never tried to bewitch someone before—well, not intentionally. It was entirely possible I’d accidentally bewitched Steve, but I didn’t like the idea of purposefully messing with someone’s will. I steered clear of it.

The HAZMAT suit shrugged. “I know, but it’s procedure. Got in trouble last night for not wearing it. I’m taking you to see someone,” he said, and wrapped my wrists in glass cuffs. At his direction, I moved through the door with my arms resting on the back of my head.

My stomach cramped. I was hungry and nervous. Who was I meeting? I heard a whisper while being processed that the Inquisitor was coming to town. My least favorite person. He’d failed to see me burn at my trial and he’d come to finish the job. I could be tied to a pyre by the end of the week. I could almost smell the burning wood and swallowed.

“Jed, I’m scared.”

“It’s okay.” Jed’s shoulders slumped, and he patted my arm. “This could be a good thing, try to stay positive. C’mon, we need to get a move on, he’s on his way.”

Jed ushered me into an interrogation room lined with black rubber, the sort you find on a gymnasium floor. In the middle of the room sat a pair of rubber chairs and a rubber-lined table held together with duct tape. Jed fixed my cuffs to a metal ring on the table and I licked my lips when I spotted the two bottles of water sitting there.

A dull thud resounded through the room as Jed shut the door and left. It reminded me of the last time I’d been chained and locked in a room. The memory conjured not only visions, but crippling feelings with an intensity so sudden, I gasped. I dipped my head and squeezed my eyes shut, but the inside of my eyelids gave the perfect backdrop to play unwanted memories.

I’d was secured to a reclined medical chair. Electrodes were connected to my head and chest and I clenched a worn leather strap between my teeth. Some electrodes weren’t for monitoring, some were for harm. The Inquisitor had forgone my right to a muscle relaxant, not caring if I convulsed hard enough to break bones. He did, at my aunt’s insistence—my father was on a tour of duty for that instance—inject me with a local anesthetic, but my rapid healing burned the drug out of my system within minutes. This was a fact I had to hide every time they buzzed me. In pain but pretending I wasn’t.

My head had been strapped and my eyelids taped so I could only see the Styrofoam roof. Then a face entered my field of vision. I’d memorized it. His dark, tilted eyes were too far apart in his rectangular face. Round reading glasses balanced on his snub nose and his cracked lips pulled thin when he sneered, exposing crooked teeth as he turned up the electrode dial. I tried not to scream as the electric current whizzed through my body, seizing muscles, contracting tendons, burning nerves. The Inquisitor laughed from his perch, watching like a voyeur from somewhere behind. Much of the time, the sound of a scribbling pencil or a lighter clicking on and off was often all I heard. The tests were stupid. Electroconvulsive therapy did nothing but gave me short-term memory loss—a side effect completely useless for questioning a suspect. If it worked on witches, it hadn’t on me.

I waited an hour in the rubber room and still no one had arrived. Last time I’d seen the Inquisitor at my trial, he had been waiting in the viewing dock running his fingers over his white furry eyebrows. I tensed at the thought of him, wanting to hug myself but couldn’t. He’d been the driving force in the West Australian Purge Campaign. He and his snub-nosed sidekick executed any accused woman, be it hearsay or speculation. Thankfully, by the time I’d been accused, stricter laws were in place to conserve the remaining female population. Once again, they needed proof before executing. Without a body to show that Steve had committed suicide, I couldn’t be killed. The Inquisitor put me through some torturous tests but I survived. I’d bet he’d love to get his pudgy fingers on me again.

My brain tumbled down a dark road into the past so I refocused my attention and began to play a game called Guess Who? The game involved me trying to picture the person walking down the hall based on their personal energy signature. I soon realized every person had a different one, like a fingerprint. It wasn’t the best game, but the ridiculous names I made, kept my mind off the bad things. Like my ravenous hunger.

Light, erratic pulsing... Nervous Nelly. Nervous Nelly had soft footprints, probably an administration girl.

Dull, sluggish drone... Overweight Oscar. He had heavy footprints. I nodded, he’s definitely overweight.

Loud, buzzing boom... Bully Bradley. He walked heavily, but I didn’t think his weight was the cause. His energy felt arrogant, I’d bet he’s a cocky superior—must be a man. Probably played sport in high school and liked drinking wine to feel sophisticated. I snorted as I imagined him swirl his wine glass with a pompous look on his face.

Ooh, there went Jed. He stopped not far from the entrance to the room and his energy levels spiked and fell. I couldn’t sense another aura, so he was either thinking something interesting, or talking to himself. His energy exploded, receded and then spiked again. Suddenly, the door flew open, banged on the rubber wall and bounced back. Cash stopped it with his hand and scowled at me. I sunk low in the chair and yanked silently on my restraints.

Chapter 8

Cash strode into the room. That made sense. I’d thought Jed had been talking to himself because Cash was invisible. What didn’t make sense was that neither wore a HAZMAT suit.

They’d been arguing. I could tell from the echoes of emotion on their faces—well, Jed’s face—and from the spikes of electricity jumping about his body. He blew air through his flared nostrils and his shirt hung out at the back. Cash, freshly shaved, and dressed in a crisp, expensive suit looked completely composed in comparison. Not a bead of sweat on his brow, no red flush, deep calm breaths. In fact, no expression at all crossed his chiseled features, except in his eyes. They shot me daggers.

He turned back to Jed. “That will be all, Constable Green.”

“It’s Sergeant Green, thank you, Mr. Samson, and no, that will not be all.” He lowered his voice. “There are more questions we need you to answer and papers to fill out.”

“Get the papers ready and I’ll sign them on the way out. I’ve told you all you need to know so, respectfully, fuck off. I have work to do.” Cash closed the door.

My jaw dropped, and I felt an overwhelming urge of protectiveness for Jed. He was just trying to do his job and Cash had been a dick.

He turned to glower at me. “Your name is fucking Urser? You didn’t think to tell me that at the beach?”

I glowered right back. “Excuse me? No, my name is not ‘fucking Urser’. It’s just Urser, and I don’t go waving it around. I hate my father, why would I advertise my attachment to him?”

During an awkward silence I watched as he regained his composure. He adjusted his tie, cleared his throat and sat in the chair across from me. I got the impression he was the kind of man who was used to getting his way and liked to be in control. This situation messed with him.

“Let’s try this again,” he started.

“Is Leila okay?” I asked.

“Depends on what you mean by okay.”

“Is she going to recover?”

“Depends on what you mean by recover.”

I gritted my teeth. “You know what I mean. What is Leila’s condition?”

He leaned forward and splayed his hands on the table. The blue and purple tattoos peeked out from under his shirt.

“Let’s get this straight,” he said. “I don’t have to tell you anything. You’re the prisoner here and, if I’m not mistaken, there’s no one else scrambling to help you. Someone posted a video of your incident online and now the whole world knows witches aren’t really dead. They never were. You can’t kill a witch with fire.” He stood up and paced around the table. “I’ve been trying to tell them that for years. Drowning is the only way to kill a witch. It causes their life-force to dissipate into the water. Air conducts it, feeds it, so the hundreds of thousands of women who burned at the stake died for nothing. Half of them probably weren’t even possessed. When the government figures that out, the Purge will be defined as the biggest failure the world has ever seen.” He jabbed his finger at me. “They’ll be looking for a scapegoat and frankly, you’re it.”

I suddenly felt very cold. “I don’t see how that’s my fault. I’m the victim. She tried to possess me, and those injuries weren’t as serious as everyone thought.” There, I’d said it, glad I’d practiced. The words sounded almost confident.

He lifted his brows, unimpressed with my speech and moved to stand over me. “That was a lot of blood Miss. Urser. Anyone else would have died.”

“Well, I’m not anyone else.”

“I can see that. Are you ready to tell me what you are then?”

“Hungry and irritated.” His rudeness got on my nerves. My fingertips felt warm again, and I tapped them on the rubber. Just because he was rude to everyone else, didn’t mean I had to take it. He was cocky, self-assured and knew nothing of personal space. I leaned back in my chair and attempted to lace my fingers together, but the glass cuffs stopped me. He sat down, loosened his tie and popped the top button of his shirt, revealing more of his tattoo and a hairless neck that probably led down to a hairless chest. I averted my gaze. Had I seriously just thought that?

I snuck a peek at him. What was he waiting for? His face gave away nothing as he stared back at me. Oh, okay. You want to have a staring competition? I’ll kick your ass, mister. I flared my eyes, then narrowed them, seeing through the shadow of my lashes. Bring it on, mate.

He broke the stare first and reached into his pocket. He held something between his finger and thumb and dropped it on the table. It bounced a few times before settling near my hands. My heart leapt into my head, pounding in my ears. I felt sick.

“Care to enlighten me?” he asked.

“No.” I grabbed the plastic square and hid it between my hands. I swallowed and looked around for a camera. My resolve hardened when I found none. It was me against him. “This only proves that my mother was attacked by a witch when I was born,” I said. Maybe he hadn’t seen it yet. Wait—had I just given myself away? I pursed my lips.

“I could read your mother’s lips.” He lifted his hands to make quotes with his fingers. “La Roux is fighting back. She is the red string that will bind us all together. What do you suppose that means?”

So he could lip-read. Tommy was right; Cash was good at everything.

“Look, Cash. I really don’t know. That’s the first I’ve heard those words. Maybe she was crazy; she married my dad right?” My palms were sweaty, so was the back of my neck. I regretted not making a run for it when I had the chance last night.

A sizzling sound and searing heat came from my hands. I cried out and dropped the burning square. The chip fell in a warped, melted mess. My eyes darted around the room, anywhere but at Cash.

“That’s irrelevant, and it doesn’t matter if you destroy one chip, there’s more where that came from.” He hadn’t even blinked at the sight of me burning plastic with my fingers.

But I had—I’d never done that before.

I shifted in my seat and swallowed. More? Had he found the jar of nightmares? I pointed at the chip. “You mean that’s not from the evidence room?”

“Yes it is, but”—he smirked—“I’m a hunter Miss. Urser. I hunt and I find.”

His eyes sparkled with egotistical confidence. Had he found the jar or not? He was so irritating!

“Does anyone else know about them?” I asked. “The memory bytes?”

“Just me, and they’re in a safe place.”

“Are we being recorded?”

“No. Cameras interfere with witch-proofing a room. You should know that.”

I rolled my eyes. “So, if you’re such a great hunter, how come you didn’t know I was an Urser?”

He avoided eye contact and fidgeted with his collar, looking uncomfortable. “My headaches have been getting worse, distracting me, and I didn’t realize there were two Urser daughters. It was an oversight. It won’t happen again.”

“Why should I trust you? You hunt witches for a living and you’ve made it pretty clear what you think I am... actually, no, you’ve made it unclear. You say you don’t think I am a witch and you keep asking me what I am. So why don’t you tell me what you are? Are you Nephilim too?”

He ignored the question. “So you have no markings whatsoever? No tattoos?”

“Nothing.” I rattled my restraints.

“But your last name is Urser.”

I snorted and shrugged. “Not for long, I want to change it.”

“Why do you hate your father so much?”

“If he deigned to show up to my trial, he just sat there and let those men do horrible things to me. Then when I passed the stupid tests—he left. He’s a jerk.” The emotions I’d worked so hard at squashing over the last few years surfaced in a brief cloud of self-loathing misery. I hated myself during that trial. At one point I despised myself so much I actually believed the Inquisitor when he said I was the spawn of evil and an abomination. I’d wanted to die.

Cash frowned, but the hint of a smile curved his lip. He looked pleased with my answer. He removed his jacket and hung it neatly on the back of his chair. Then he undid his left cuff and rolled up the sleeve, exposing more tattoos and scars. His hand balled into a fist and rested on top of my cuffs.

“I’m going to show you something,” he said and lifted his fist slightly. It was as though he were—No! I jerked back, but it was too late. He slammed his fist on the glass and shattered it. Pain spiked in my wrists as the sound crackled through the air and shards spilled across the table.

Too scared to move, I gawked and bit my lip. The bastard looked completely sane as he picked off glass bits and freed my hands, gently dusting off the powder. A minute ago, his touch had been harsh enough to break glass, but now feathered as he inspected the damage. A few spots of blood had welled, but my skin itched and closed the wounds as we watched. He smeared my blood with his finger to examine the new skin, then let go of my wrists and sifted through the broken glass.

“Just so you know, you should never mix your blood with anyone else’s,” he said. “That’s why I’m getting a clean shard. For people like us, it can have regrettable consequences. Ah, this one will do.” He grabbed a clear piece, big enough to look like a scalpel blade, then lifted his gaze to mine. He sliced his wrist diagonally over an old silver scar.

“Oh shit.” I covered my mouth with my hand. “What—” Blood flowed down his wrist, but before the rivulet hit his elbow, his wound closed, leaving a scar that kept fading, just like mine.

I stood up so quickly I knocked my chair over. “Y-you can heal too? I thought I could do that because—but you’re a man! Are you a witch?”

He snorted. “God, no.”

“Then why? What are you?” I inhaled sharply and hissed, “What are we?”

“I’ll explain everything if you agree to help me find Petra. She has something I need, and she wants you. I can use that to my advantage. If you agree, then I’ll get your questions answered, but not here. There is someone else better equipped for that than me.” When my silence stretched, he added, “You may also be noticing your body is going through a metamorphosis, and you are experiencing new abilities. My associate will clarify that too.”

I slanted a look at him, picked up my chair and sat back down. How did he know that my sixth sense and burning fingers were new?

He narrowed his eyes. “I’m right aren’t I?”

I twisted my fingers and nodded, never taking my eyes off him. Who was this guy?

He didn’t know your last name.

True.

He was flawed. He reached forward and enveloped both my hands with one large warm one, enticing a flutter of nerves at his closeness. A crease formed between his eyebrows. “La Roux, you have a chance to do some good here, to do what’s right. You’ve been gifted with abilities similar to the enemy, but it doesn’t mean you have to act like them. You can save lives where they only take them.”

Holy crap, was I going to do this—trust him? I nodded.

“Okay, just to be clear, this is the deal—” He grunted and seized up, squeezing my hands painfully. He pulled away and launched off the chair, but twisted, got tangled and fell to the floor. He scrambled up and staggered to the opposite side of the room where he braced his arms on the wall, shirt untucked, neck corded and back muscles twitching. He hid his face. The sound of his heavy breathing filled the lengthy silence.

I sat as still as a statue, but my blood surged inside. I didn’t know what to do. He looked like he was in pain—should I help him? Silently, I moved my seat backward and stood. I clutched the edge of the table so hard my knuckles went white. I didn’t want to surprise him in case he flipped out and attacked me.

Cash flinched and groaned then lowered his body to a crouch, dropping his head to the wall. He winced, and the tattoo on his neck crept higher on one side and moved to the right, under his ear. Dark swirls misted in blue and purple sprinkled with flecks of white. I rubbed my eyes. What the hell?

His body went rigid with another sharp intake of breath and a strangled noise.

Shit, he’d better not die on me.

One thing was for sure; he was in pain. I imagined his eyes were white too, just like at the bar. My muscles relaxed when I realized I probably wasn’t in danger.

“Cash?” I said softly and walked towards him.

Like a junkie going through withdrawals, he shuddered and trembled. His head was tilted to the side, but I still couldn’t see his eyes.

“Don’t touch me,” he said through clenched teeth. “I said I’d clean the weapons and I will.”

I frowned and darted a glance around the empty room. Was he speaking to me?

“George was supposed to wake me but something must’ve happened.” He muttered nonsense. Like he was in a dream but aware of his surroundings here. His held up his hand, he didn’t want me any closer. “Don’t... I need to see.”

A timid knock sounded at the door and Cash turned to me, eyes wide in panic. Clouds swam across the surface of his irises. I pressed my fingers to the burning hot skin on his forehead, it cooled instantly. My fingers warmed as his eyes cleared. He avoided my gaze as he eased my hand away from his head then cleared his throat and stood.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, again, I can’t control it. I have these visions.“ He grimaced as he tucked his shirt in and smoothed his hair. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and cleared his throat. “Visions of my past lives. Sit down.” He pointed to my chair and turned to open the door.

He saw his past lives? He said it so casually, like one might say, “I eat cereal for breakfast.” I rushed back to my seat as the door opened to reveal Nervous Nelly holding a disarray of papers. Ha! I’d been right, she was a little on the plump side but still—administration. I mentally high fived myself.

“Mr. Samson, you asked me to alert you to the presence of the Inquisitor.” She licked her pink lips and flicked her gaze to me, eying off the broken glass.

“Thank you.” Cash closed the door in her face and leaned backward, sighing. Something vibrated. He pulled out his phone and read the message. When his eyes lifted to catch mine, my stomach clenched.

“I’ve just been given some good news—for you, anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“Getting you out of here is going to be easier than I thought. They don’t have the legal right to hold you on suspected witchcraft, and the probation violation can be explained. Looks like things are about to get interesting. I’ll have you released into my custody so you can officially help with my investigation.” He picked up the warped memory byte and crushed it, crumbling pieces of tiny plastic onto the table. “You will follow my orders, stay at my house and, in return, I will endeavor to have your questions answered and keep your secret. If you look for answers alone, you won’t get far. That’s not a threat it’s just the truth. Besides, Tommy would be sulking for days if I didn’t get you released. Let’s go.” He rolled his sleeve down to cover the blood trail he’d left on his forearm. After sweeping the glass into his jacket, he wrapped it up origami style and walked to the door. “We can’t leave our blood here.”

I didn’t move. When he realized I wasn’t with him, he turned. “What now?”

“You want me to stay with you—like at your place? I-I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I stammered. “Can I just stay at my new apartment?”

He stewed over my words and shifted his feet. “It’s all above board. I’m signing you out through the system and Tommy will be there too. I don’t need to force myself on women if that’s what you’re alluding to. I’m not a pervert.”

Heat rushed my face. “No, that’s not what I meant. I don’t want to drag you and Tommy into danger. Everyone near me gets hurt, or ends up hating me. I don’t want that. I… I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“You’d rather face execution?”

I shrugged.

“People get hurt all the time—they get caught in the crossfire. If you stay here and people die because of it, wouldn’t that be worse? The logical thing is for us to work together to stop the witch from possessing anyone. Besides”—he yanked me out of the chair by the elbow—”unless you want me to carry you again, you’re walking out of this room.”

I had no choice. I’d have to go with the flow and he seemed a safer option than the Inquisitor and a certain fiery death.

He led me down the corridor. As we approached a corner office, I heard arguing. The words stirred bone-trembling emotions inside me: fury, hate, denial. The last time I heard that voice, I’d complied. This time, I poised to attack.

Chapter 9

Cash stopped me with a hand to the shoulder.

“What are you doing?” he hissed.

I listened to the conversation in the corner office. My head clouded with rage and my fingers burned.

“I swear I didn’t do it,” a female sobbed. “I just smiled at him. I didn’t make him do anything.”

A loud slap made me jump. Something got hit. The table or her face?

“That’s not the story we’re getting from his family.” The Inquisitor’s voice made me cringe. “We’re not getting anywhere here. We’ll take her back to headquarters for questioning, Sergeant, and get to the bottom of this.”

I wrenched from Cash’s grip and burst into the office, hands like claws, ready to attack the monster I’d heard. My glance swept over a mousy-haired girl who startled at my intrusion and lifted her glass-cuffed hands to shield her face. Then I saw him. My muscles seized and my mouth went dry.

“You get away from her you bastard,” I screamed and leapt toward him but was yanked back so fast, I got whiplash.

“La Roux,” Cash barked. I collided with his mountain-like torso, and he locked me in with his arm across my chest. The stability behind me was the only thing keeping me from going berserk. Cash’s grip lightened, and he leaned in and sniffed. Had he just smelled me? I turned and swatted him. He scowled at me briefly then transferred his menace to the man in front of us.

The Inquisitor smirked and tapped his thumb and forefinger together. I remembered the habit from my public trial and the private questioning-slash-torture sessions. His pale, plump skin reflected the pink tones of his Specialist Witch Taskforce uniform. A small gold crucifix pinned to each of his lapels twinkled under the fluorescent lighting. He raked his smug gaze up and down my overalls before jigging his heavy utility belt and bouncing on his toes. This was the loud, buzzing-boom aura from earlier. I flinched back into Cash.

I’d never noticed his aura before I was collared, although I did remember feeling like I wanted to shrink to the size of an insect and cover my ears. I flinched again, frustrated at my body’s betrayal. Half of me wanted to escape and get the answers Cash promised, the other half wanted to stay and protect the girl. To fight back.

“Well, well. You look good in pink, Ms. Urser.” He’d put on weight, the gap between his buttons stretched where they joined. I supposed the women-killing business had been slow. The Inquisitor tapped his gun.

Jed stood up slowly from his spot on the other side of the desk.

“Yeah, well you look like you can’t separate your whites from your colors.” The words were out of my mouth before my brain caught up.

His nostrils flared, and he sneered, then zeroed in on Cash. “Thank you for bringing the bitch down, Mr Samson. I can take it from here.”

Cash’s arm twitched around me then he dropped it and ushered me behind him. I clutched at what little loose fabric I could find on his shirt, not because I was scared, but because I needed to stop myself from wailing on the Inquisitor’s flabby face. Okay, maybe I was a little scared. The last time we’d met, I barely escaped with my life. Cash’s back muscles twitched beneath my hand and I counted squares on the linoleum floor. 1, 2, 3 ... argh, his buzzing energy was like an annoying fly, trying to reach around Cash and land its filth on my skin.

“Sorry to disappoint Mr—” Cash paused.

“Mr. Donohue,” the Inquisitor said.

“Right, well, there must be some confusion. I’m pulling rank and taking Miss. Urser with me.” Cash held out his free hand to Jed. “Are those papers ready?”

“Um...” Jed shifted his stance. “Well you see—”

“What this sniveling simper head is trying to say is that I have jurisdiction here, not you. She needs to be questioned and submit to a trial before anyone takes her. That’s the law. So you can take your uppity Yank nose and piss off.”

He tapped his thumb and forefinger again. Yuck. He’d always carried a lighter when he questioned me before, it was kind of a mental torture. He itched to light a pyre and watch me burn—he wanted me to know that.

I let go of Cash and cracked my knuckles.

“There’s nobody here with higher clearance than me.” Cash took a deep breath and rubbed his forehead. “Turn on the news, maybe that will help with your comprehension. In the meantime, fuck the papers, we’re getting out of here.” He turned to me. “I’m not waiting for your things, let’s go.”

“But the girl,” I said. “She’s not a witch.”

Cash glanced at the red-eyed girl, took a step forward and sniffed the air. “She’s right,” he said to Jed. “The girl’s not possessed.”

“Boss?” Overweight Oscar poked his head into Jed’s office. Huh, he wasn’t overweight at all, but rather tall and well built. His graying hair and spotty face indicated he was reaching retirement. Perhaps his age was why his aura felt sluggish.

“Yes, Warren,” Jed said and moved into the hallway. The Inquisitor joined him.

“You need to see this.” Warren opened the lid on a laptop he carried. It showed a news channel breaking the story of the USA government signing a peace treaty with witches; a new amendment to the Geneva Conventions with protocols soon to follow. The American President and other important internationals, shook hands with a woman who I suspected was a witch representative.

The Inquisitor’s fat chin started to wobble and his skin flushed to a bright crimson. “That doesn’t change a thing in this country,” he said, fists clenched to tight balls. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you removed her cuffs. She could have you under her spell.”

Cash handed me his jacket-package and spoke through a clenched jaw. “Have you got a hearing problem? We. Are. Leaving. There is nothing you can do about it.” He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves, not caring that blood smeared his forearm.

The Inquisitor drew his gun and pointed it at Cash, then at me, then at Cash again. “Over my dead body.”

“Now, now fellas. I’m sure we can sort this out in an orderly fashion.” Jed’s eyes widened as he waved down the staff who popped their heads over their partition screens.

“That’s right, Mr. Samson, you can leave now with your dignity intact, or you can leave in a body bag. It’s your choice.” The breathless Inquisitor squared his Glock in Cash’s face.

Cash burst into motion, swiped the gun from the Inquisitor and pointed it back at him before anyone could blink. “Sir, thank you kindly for the use of your weapon. I do believe I left mine at home.”

“Don’t do it, Mr. Donohue,” Jed said.

The Inquisitor trembled in fury. “You can’t seriously be entertaining the idea of letting this cowboy take your accused, can you? Preposterous.”

Jed shrugged and slanted a look at me, his mouth twitched with the need to smile, or maybe I was projecting my own triumphant feelings. “I was told to give Mr. Samson free rein. He has diplomatic immunity, and he has personally attested that Miss. Urser is not a witch. His word is basically law where witches are concerned. If he believes this is in the best interest of public safety, then I’m inclined to agree with him. I’m sure the Prime Minister will be releasing a statement shortly and, based on the revised Geneva Conventions, I’m betting it will be the same as the US.”

Cash had vouched for me before he’d even interviewed me. No wonder they hadn’t worn HAZMAT suits. Hmm, so the little slicker had tricked me into believing I was in deep trouble. I guessed he knew it would be the only way I’d comply. I peered at the Inquisitor with contempt. As far as I could see, I still had no choice.

As if sensing my disdain, the Inquisitor snapped his head back to me and stomped his foot. Ripples moved in shock-waves through his sweaty facial fat. He sneered. “You’re all over the Internet. Everyone knows you’re in cahoots with the devil. They saw you heal with their own eyes. The witch called you her sister for Christ’s sake. I’d sleep with one eye open if I were you because it won’t be long before you smell the vapors of hell rising up to take you back.” He stepped to the side, unblocking our path to freedom.

Cash tucked the gun into the back of his waistband. “Don’t count on it Mr. Donohue. Hell is a fabrication invented by ignorant people to get others less intelligent to do as they’re told. We’re not concerned with what you think in the slightest.” He pulled a card from his pocket and reached around the Inquisitor, exposing his chest, to hand it to Jed. “Call me if you hear, or need anything. I’ll do the same.”

Jed took the card and nodded, something unseen passed between them that made me suspicious of their earlier argument—had it been all for show? Even so, I didn’t envy Jed’s task of sorting out the mess we left behind. I hoped he stood his ground and let the poor girl go but there was little else I could do about it now.

I followed Cash out of the precinct to the parking lot where he threw a set of keys at me as we neared an awesome black Range Rover. I caught them mid air with a face that probably appeared like I was in a high school math test, very confused. “I don’t understand,” I said.

“You drive.”

“But your car is super expensive.”

“I get those headaches remember? I’d rather not be driving with a passenger when another one hits. It’s not safe.”

“Oh.” I handed his jacket to him then eyed off the expensive car. “Wow. What exactly do you do?”

“I’m a highly paid, in-demand consultant.” He opened the rear passenger door, shook the glass from his jacket to the concrete floor, and crunched the fallen shards to dust with his foot. He meticulously folded his jacket and placed it on the rear beige, leather seat. Then he sat in front, pulled a protein bar from the glove box and replaced it with the gun.

“Here, you’re obviously undernourished, your stomach growled the whole time we were in there.”

I snatched the bar and tore it open with a mumbled, “Thanks,” then averted my gaze and moved to the driver’s side. I groaned in appreciation as I sank into the seat. The leather was soft and supple and smelled like a five-star everything. I put the protein bar between my teeth and started the push button engine.

“Oh my holy cheese on a stick,” I garbled and caressed the steering wheel. “Hello, lover.”

“You can’t make love to a car,” Cash said disparagingly. “Put your seat belt on and eat that bar before we start driving.”

I dropped the bar into my lap. “Jeez, I was just kidding. Okay, Dad.”

His eyes darkened, and he took the bar from my lap then waved it in my face. “I’m serious, turn off the engine if you want to eat this, it’s not safe.”

Wow, he was an A-grade Nazi when it came to safety.

“You don’t smile much do you?” I asked.

He glowered.

“Challenge accepted.” I flared my eyes at him. Nobody can be that grumpy all the time. I put on my best German accent. “Vait,” and sank in my chair slowly, glancing at him with a grin on my face. “Vait... I’m sinking.”

I got as low as I could and turned off the engine. His mouth opened and he looked at me like I’d grown two heads.

“Why are you doing that?” he finally said with a voice pitched higher than usual.

I rolled my eyes and sat back up. “Vait, I’m sinking, get it? Sounds like ‘Wait, I’m thinking’ in a German accent... and then I sank?” I snatched the bar back and frowned. “Dude, you need to lighten up if we are going to be partners on this witch hunt.”

“Who said we’re partners? You work for me, not with me. Wasn’t I clear enough?”

Fine, so it’s like that. I basically inhaled the bar, put my seatbelt on and started the engine.

“Right, where to Jeeves?”

“My name is Cash.”

I closed my eyes and imagined myself banging my head on the steering wheel, but I’d probably ruin the leather. I had a newfound respect for Tommy putting up with his intolerable brother daily.

I cleared my throat. “Where to, Cash?”

“It’s programmed into the navigator,” he said and urged me down the road.

Chapter 10

We drove out down a country road, sheltered by trees on either side. I guessed we headed for Cash’s place.

He pulled a notebook and pen from the glove compartment. “Right, so what’s the situation with you and the Inquisitor?”

“Why? Are you going to write it down?”

“Of course. Jed told me your history, but I want to hear it from you.”

I shrugged and peered at the road.

“La Roux?”

“See this?” I pointed to my face. “This is my concentratey face. I’m being safe.”

“You don’t want to talk about your father? Tell me about your family. Why didn’t your aunt take your call?”

“What are you a psychologist?”

“Not right now, no.”

Meaning he was once? I cocked an eyebrow at his cryptic answer. “Boy, you get stuck into everything don’t you?”

“It’s my job.”

I sighed and gave him a brief overview of my relationship with my aunt and sister. Cash jotted down a few words, then pulled out his vibrating phone and sent a few messages. Who was he texting?

“I’m concerned your aunt has been compromised,” he said, fingers flying over the screen. “Your house was empty. How many staff are employed on the estate?”

“Well, none that actually live there. The cellar and vineyard are on the other side of the property so you might not have seen them. Aunt Lucy was probably at the store or something.”

“The cellar and vineyard were empty.”

“Do you have any Prince?” I asked, not wanting to get into the details of my home life.

“I don’t know what you mean, can you get back on topic?”

“Eighties music?”

He grimaced.

“Anything on MP3, or Wifi? Bluetooth?”

He curled his lip.

He really was a grumble bum. I pouted and switched on a local radio station I thought would play the latest pop music, but the news was on.

Cash started to speak, but I shooshed him as the news presenter was speaking about the peace treaty, and yes, America had led the way but Cash had been right, Australia was close behind. Then the presenter mentioned that despite the new treaty, tourist numbers were expected to be in the thousands for the food festival on the coming weekend. “The festival.” I groaned and slapped my forehead. Cash glared until I had both hands on the steering wheel. “I forgot I’d help Aunt Lucy with the catering, and with Leila gone I’m really leaving her in the lurch.”

“Aren’t you listening? She’s missing. What can you tell me about her recent behavior?”

“Aunt Lucy? I told you, she probably went to the store or something—it’s a very busy time of year. She might be angry at me, but she still needs help.”

I snuck a glance at Cash. Was he for real about my aunt? I mean, seriously, how much bad luck can follow one family?

“Watch the road!” Cash shouted.

I slammed on the brakes, the tires screeched and we lurched forward. The seatbelt burnt into my neck, but I gripped the wheel and looked forward. We’d stopped five meters short of three black crows in the middle of the road. The radio signal had dropped out and white noise filled the cabin. I turned it off.

“Are you okay?” Cash asked.

Considering a seatbelt just saved me from flying through the window, I felt a little sheepish about my earlier safety-Nazi thoughts. “Yeah, you?”

“Stay in the car.” He opened the door and stepped out.

Sure. Stay in the car, he says. By myself. Because that’s what all the girls in horror movies do. Stay in the car by themselves. I left the engine on and unlocked my belt to follow him out, rubbing my neck tenderly. The second the car door opened, I winced at the buzzing. It was everywhere.

Cash frowned at me from the other side of the car and shook his head. I stuck out my tongue but was showing restraint, at least I didn’t give him the finger. Anyway, it was just a bunch of dead crows, no life-force emanated from them. What could they do?

Still grimacing, he walked a few steps and tried to shoo the birds. He stopped a few feet away from them and darted a look back to me.

“They’re empty.” I shrugged. “No auras.”

Cash sniffed the air and waved his hands but the crows didn’t move. When I caught up to him, I sniffed too. It smelled like the forest on a warm spring day, with maybe a hint of sweetness, but that wasn’t unheard of around road kill.

I looked closer. Focused. A string of saliva dangled from one crow’s beak suggesting a recent death. They hadn’t been run over, they just stood there like the taxidermy crows at The Cauldron. I surveyed the road, looking for a reason the birds had suddenly turned into statues.

The sun must have moved behind a cloud because I suddenly felt cooler and hugged myself, rubbing my arms vigorously through the jumpsuit. Something bizarre was happening. My body felt it and I could hear it—the thrum of energy. A biting wind blew, and I looked up to see if rain clouds covered the sky, but found pure azure peeking through the leaves. Panic set root in my chest like a vine, tightening with each breath.

Cash jabbed a bird, and it toppled over—stiff.

“Get back to the car and lock the doors.” His voice was calm—creepy calm.

“Why?” They were just birds.

He kicked the crows into the shrubbery next to us. “Get back to the car!” he bellowed.

I jumped and squeaked. Leaves rustled as the wind picked up and, not wanting to take my eyes off the crows, I walked backwards to the car. I tried to concentrate on the dancing shadows left by moving leaves. But the sunlight dimmed, the road darkened, and I turned my attention back to Cash. Wait! Where was he? The breeze became a squall and whipped hair into my eyes. I shielded my face and kept backing up until my ass hit the hood of the car. I reached back to steady myself and felt fur.

Energy twisted and pulled in the icy cold air behind me, and a cloud of breath puffed over my shoulder. My adrenaline spiked, and I tore my hand away and ran. What the hell was it?

I opened my mouth to scream and got a mouth full of dust. I spluttered, coughed and covered my lips with my sleeve, squinting into the cloud roaring around me. I felt the aura of one… two… oh shit, at least three things behind me. I kept running towards where I’d seen Cash last and heard a shrill shriek—a cross between a whinny and a baby’s cry. The hairs on my body stood on end.

Someone grabbed my shoulder, and I turned to attack but found Cash with his finger to his lips, the wind tousling his short blonde hair.

The dust storm died in an instant, revealing everything in clear focus. I blinked.

We both turned, stunned. A horse stood in front of the car. It looked as though it had ridden straight from hell with eyes as black as its coat. Air puffed from its nostrils as it pawed the ground. A mangy red fox trotted toward the horse and stood on its right.

The feral fox glared at me with soulless, deep-set black eyes—witch’s eyes—and snarled, revealing a jaw full of rotting teeth. It lowered its head and lifted two ears like spikes. Then, in a very human gesture, the possessed horse nodded to the fox. The fox, following its command, sprang toward us. Cash pushed me behind him and went for his gun. It was still in the glove compartment.

As the creature bounded closer, the sweet scent of decay gusted ahead of it. The fox’s energy was off the charts—not at all like the minor buzz I expected from a small animal. The intensity of its life-force stung my eyes and tickled my tongue with a metallic taste. The black eyes darting between Cash and me seemed aware, sentient. Animosity boiled off its pelt, and I felt its energy coil, tense and get ready to snap. My blood turned to ice.

“Familiars,” Cash snarled, then launched forward as if on springs. The fox mirrored him, and the two collided. The animal locked its jaw on Cash’s forearm but Cash moved like a machine. His left hand circled the animal’s throat and squeezed. The fox went limp and Cash discarded it, throwing the body into the bush as if it weighed nothing. It crashed through the underbrush and landed. Only seconds passed, then black smoke curled from the carcass’s mouth and disappeared into the sky.

“Shit,” Cash said. “That was quick.”

The wild horse galloped towards us, the sound of its hoofs ricocheted off the surrounding forest. It wouldn’t be as easy to stop as the fox.

“Go around it, get to the car.” Cash moved to the left, and I ran to the right.

With a start, I realized the horse was coming for me. It was still a few meters out but I could touch the bubbling energy that hovered around it. Everything was happening so quickly. My neurotransmitters went into hyper-drive and my blood roared in my ears, drowning out the galloping. The horse’s hind legs contracted and its muscles tensed. Its energy peaked. Just like the night before, the world seemed to close in on me, and a pressure built in my gut, rising to fizz down my arms and sear my fingertips. The horse sprang into the air. I would be trampled. On instinct, my arms stretched forward and my energy shot out of my heated fingertips. The current crackled as it flew through the horse and beyond, taking the familiar’s life-force with it. But the laws of inertia meant the horse’s body kept moving towards me, on a collision trajectory with my body.

Something collided with my side and sent me careening off the road. The air thumped from my lungs as my back hit the ground. I was tangled between Cash’s body and the prickly forest floor. While I lay dazed, I felt the familiar’s essence retreat into the air until it blended with the buzz I’d heard before. Cash moved off me.

“What the hell did you do?” he asked, panting.

I blinked, trying to pull the swirls of leaves and sky into focus and held up a hand, I needed a minute. I heard horses hooves; trotting this time. Panicked, I sat up quickly and a wave of dizziness washed over me. With an effort, I focused and found the horse moving aimlessly. It shook its head, snorted and looked at me with blinking brown eyes, then cantered into the bushland. I froze, waiting for it to re-emerge, but the spark of its spirit receded from my senses like a dissipating cloud, just like the familiar’s essence had.

“I think I pushed its essence out.” I stared at my fingers in disbelief, they’d cooled down from boiling point. “How did the horse move around after it was—you know, what’s that word? When Leila couldn’t?”

“You mean possessed?”

“Yeah,” I said vacantly. The fall had scrambled my brain.

“We can talk about that later. Get in the car. There might be more.”

“But, how come it moved around? I mean, Leila was in a coma. Can I save my sister? Did I do something?”

“No, it wasn’t you. Get up.” He tugged me off the ground and pulled me scrambling along after him. “A familiar pushes the animal’s tiny soul aside to share the body. A witch pushes the human’s larger soul out to steal the body.”

My heart sank.

The engine was still running when we returned to the dust-covered car. We brushed off enough for me to see through the windows and Cash watched me like a hawk as I fastened my seatbelt.

“Familiars.” I exhaled, tapped my thumb on the steering wheel. “Do you think they followed us from the station? Were they waiting for me? Do they work for Petra?” I planted my foot on the accelerator and we took off.

Cash opened the glove compartment, pulled the gun out and rested it on his lap. He stroked the hilt with his thumb and peered at me. “Do you know what familiars are?”

I shrugged. “Fledgling witches?”

“Witches are inherently selfish,” Cash said. “They are consumed with survival and their own obsessions. Familiars are a partnership of convenience. Spirits without the knowledge to take a human body themselves enter a blood oath with a witch and trade favors until they’re given the body-snatching secret.” He studied the road and his voice became gravelly. “After a mortal death, a human soul is pulled back into the dust from which it came. It becomes part of the world’s consciousness, and waits for a time to be reborn again. “

“Are you saying that the planet is alive?”

“In a way. We’re all comprised of matter and atoms, the same particles—even stars are…”

He paused. I looked over at him. A memory?

He shook himself and continued, his voice steady, face hard. “But the soul is made of pure energy. Atoms give off energy and absorb energy. Sometimes a soul, male or female, is strong enough to deny the pull of nature and, instead of returning to the earth, it becomes a witch—a sentient being of energy or chi. Witches know the frequency and wavelengths to travel to enter a body. They make deals with humans who are afraid they won’t have the strength to resist the pull of the earth and, with a pre-death agreement, these humans become Familiars. The witch shares the frequency needed to possess animals, but not the one for female bodies, locking them into a contract of servitude. The fact that they can’t inhabit a human body is not because they’re weak, it’s because they’re simply not allowed to. When blood is shared by beings of power, an unbreakable contract can be made. One that coerces and binds. That’s why it’s important not to share your blood with anyone.”

“Whoa, you just blew my mind,” I said. “Witches can be both male or female?”

“Their souls, yes. The bodies they possess are female only.”

“How do you know so much?”

“I’ve been around a while. Not physically… This body is only twenty-six, but my mind remembers. Chi is an ancient concept, quantum physics is new. It’s really quite similar.”

“So, what do you think they want with us?”

“Obviously to maliciously harm us—you, to be precise. It was a trap. Couldn’t you feel them, sense them coming?”

Suddenly on the defensive, I shrank a little in the seat and wrung my hands on the wheel. “Well…” I thought about it for a second. “I could feel this twisting and pulling energy in the middle of the dust storm, and there was a loud buzzing that didn’t stop. I couldn’t see anything, but it was there. I felt like it was touching me.”

“Can you feel them now?”

I inexpertly groped our surroundings with my mind. “I don’t think so, but we’re moving so fast.”

I thought again of the twisting cold but there was nothing like it outside, just the warmth radiating from the window next to me.

“Come to think of it, there had been three signatures. I’ll try again when w—”

“What’s that?” Cash pointed at the road ahead where a kangaroo hopped into the middle and stopped. It was huge, not usual for the local area. Cash waved forward. “Keep driving, it will move.”

“Are you insane? It’s giant. I’m not going to run over it.”

On its hind legs, it was almost two meters high. I drifted to the right. Cash leaned across and tugged the wheel. We were back in the center of the road.

“It’s the third familiar,” he said. “Who cares if you run it over? In fact, it’s better that you do.”

Long bounding hops brought it closer, and then it pulled up straight to its full height, squared-off muzzle twitching.

“I’m not hitting it because it will jump on its back legs and hop through the windscreen. When it gets through, it will pump its crazy gigantor legs until we’re dead. That’s what kangaroos do.” I put my hand on his wrist and pulled the steering wheel back.

He glared at me, fuming. “It’s not a kangaroo. It won’t act like a normal animal.”

“How can you know that?” We struggled for control of the wheel and I forgot about the danger on the road until we were almost on top of it. Then I freaked and let go of the wheel. Cash pulled it toward him and the car veered sharply, clipped the kangaroo, struck the curb side ditch and flipped.

Airborne and upside down, the airbags deployed with a pop and white smoke puffed into the air. We floated in clouds, except the clouds weren’t fluffy, they smacked into our faces and bodies like a brick wall. My hand, which had been between the wheel and my body, smacked into my face. My cheekbone crunched as it fractured. The car crashed into a tree, then rotated and ricocheted to glance off another. The car was the ball and the forest—a giant pinball machine. Our bodies rattled from side to side until the car landed, driver side down. The engine hissed. The metal creaked and cracked. I groaned, hurting all over. Above me, Cash obstructed my only way out. He hung from his seatbelt, half obscured in a tangled mass of deflated airbag and white dust.

“Cash?” I croaked, the powder from the airbags tasted like dirt. I only had a second to worry about him. Then he moved like he’d been hit with adrenaline. He released his seatbelt and pulled himself through the window above.

I struggled against my restraints and the slippery fabric from the airbags. All I could see was white, and all I could smell was fuel.

I heard a gunshot.

I stopped struggling and waited, listening to the sound of my shallow breathing.

My head rested on the ground and sticks poked me through the white fabric next to my temple. Blood trickled down my forehead. I touched the tender site at my cheek. My nose ached as well. I explored it but it felt okay, no bits sticking out and, apart from a sore forehead, I was whole.

A second gunshot echoed through the cabin and sparks flew inside my mind and down my limbs.

A shadow moved across the interior of the car and the airbag canvas disappeared through the passenger window. Cash poked his head in. “Unlock your seatbelt and grab my hand. I’ll pull you out.”

I sniffed. “Do I smell petrol?” Petrol could mean fire, fire could mean boom.

“Grab my hand.” Cash’s voice was flat. Shit. I didn’t want to test my fast healing with an explosion and fumbled for the seat belt clasp, but I couldn’t get my fingers to work. My head pounded, and the smell of petrol conjured visions of flames and heat. I licked my dry lips and shook my head, panting, squeezing tears from my eyes. I’d always thought if I died in flames it would be at the stake, not in a car accident.

“Focus, La Roux. You need to undo the clasp, reach up and I’ll do the rest. Your legs aren’t caught are they?”

“No.” I sniffed and wiggled my toes.

“Good. Take a deep breath and undo the clasp.”

I breathed in, exhaled slowly, then closed my eyes and felt for the buckle. I pressed the button and sighed in relief when I heard the latch unhook. Untangling myself, I pulled my legs through the confined space and used the wreckage to lever up. I raised my hands and Cash’s gripped them tightly. He lifted me with ease, slowly and safely out of the cabin and guided me to the forest floor below. From the corner of my eye, I saw the kangaroo’s body lying in the brush.

“It might come back for us,” Cash said. “Let’s go.”

We ran.

At a presumably safe distance, I allowed my legs to collapse and dropped in the shade of a large tree, then buried my head in my trembling hands. I’d had way too much excitement for one day.

Cash’s deep voice broke through. “Can you sense them?”

I thought about it for a moment, but couldn’t feel anything out of the ordinary. “No, but I wouldn’t exactly rely on my head at the moment, it doesn’t seem to be working very well.” I took in another breath and felt tiny buzzing bees swimming in the air but when I looked, there was nothing. The noise put me on edge and throbbed in my head.

“Thank goodness we got out before the car exploded,” I said to keep my mind off the sound. Flames danced across my imagination, taunting me with what might have been.

Cash snorted. “That’s a fallacy, cars don’t explode—an absurdity of the film industry I presume?” His feet shuffled in the crunchy undergrowth in front of me. “Get up, we need to put as much distance between us and them as soon as possible.”

He lifted me to my feet and guided me further into the forest.

“Shouldn’t we get back to the road?” I asked, trotting after him. “Someone will pass by and be able to help.”

“No, there’s a brook nearby. We’ll follow it until we’re sure the familiars aren’t behind us. They’re afraid of the water.”

“Are you sure? We’re kilometers away from anywhere. I noticed a lodge back there, we should go back for help.”

He ignored me and kept walking, pulling me along. He must have been in a rush, he’d left his carefully folded designer jacket on the back seat of the car.

“Do you need me to translate the kilometers thing to miles?” I intended the comment as sarcasm, but he didn’t seem to pick up on it.

He gave me a look of disdain. “I got it, thanks. The brook’s not far and my place is at the end of the brook, near the ocean.”

The pain from my injuries waned, I could move my neck fluidly but my cheek and temple ached—and itched. I didn’t fancy trekking through the bush in the hot sun. Also, the incessant, invisible bees made me feel nauseous. I couldn’t tell where they were, it confused me and threw my senses out of whack. I trailed after Cash but soon broke into a trot to keep up with his long strides. For the second time in twenty-four hours I was covered from head to toe in blood, sweat and dirt. There really was no escaping this new lifestyle of mine.

“How long is it going to take?” I asked, slightly out of breath.

“Not long, maybe two or three hours.”

Chapter 11

We hit the brook ten minutes later. Cash paused, stood on the bank and pulled out his phone to check for reception. He rotated with the phone lifted high. The ragged shirt tucked into his pants pulled out to reveal the toned ridges of his stomach. Yup. Those were some nice abs. I stifled an appreciative whistle and turned away to inspect the brook.

“Oh, thank you, thank you. Water,” I said and planted myself on my behind to remove my too big, standard-issue prisoner shoes. I rolled up my pink pants to the knees then jumped down to the creek and splashed water on my face, sighing in pleasure. My legs wobbled, and my lips opened as my body relaxed. Totally immersed in physical bliss, I undid the press-studs to my waist and pulled off my sleeves. It was much cooler in just the black singlet. I tied the sleeves of the jumpsuit around my middle and bent forward to dunk my head.

I dangled upside down, allowing the icy coldness to seep into my skin, and peered through the gap between my legs. Cash leaned against a tree and studied me with his arms folded and eyes sparkling in the sun. In an instant, I realized how stupid I must look, ass in the air, head in the water. If he noticed me noticing him, he didn’t show it.

I watched the water flowing through my hair, the fine blonde and brown strands spread like jellyfish tentacles. Huh, that was strange, I looked closer. The water buzzed. I tilted my head. If I listened closely, the buzzing changed frequency where the current hit my hair. My fingers trailed through the water and I heard a different frequency—no, it was more than a sound; the vibrations crawled up my skin. Could I be sensing the essence of the world around me? My chest tightened at the magnitude of my thoughts and I darted a glance at Cash. He’d said he knew why I was changing.

I squeezed my hair and stood up. Wet, cold strands flipped over my back and droplets trickled between my shoulder blades. The buzzing enthralled me and I cast my senses out in a wide net. Every time they hit an object, I adjusted my focus and felt the frequency change. I laughed, awestruck as warmth spread through me. Feeling lighter, I splashed through the brook to the nearest tree and reached out. My hand passed through a small membrane of energy that covered the bark before making contact with a pop. The vibrations of life scuttled up my skin like ants and I gasped. When I jerked my hand back—the feeling dissipated. Finally, I was aware of the origin of the buzzing. Once this happened the sensation faded into the background, like inconsequential white noise. With knowledge came understanding.

At peace with the niggling noise, I picked up my shoes and joined Cash under the tree.

“Thank you for earlier,” I said.

“What for?”

“For having me released and saving me back there, with the horse-thing.”

“It was the right thing to do.” His thumb stroked his chin, and he gave me the once over, shaking his head slightly. He turned and walked further into the bush. “Let’s get moving, we can walk and talk.”

I jogged after him. “Okay, so let’s get back to that conversation in the car. Why do you think the familiars wanted to harm me? Do they work for Petra?”

“I’m inclined to think not. They wanted to harm you, but Petra wanted to use you. Why you, though?”

“She might be confused. She might think I’m someone else.”

“How do you mean?”

I chewed my cheek. I supposed I had to trust someone and, like Cash said, I couldn’t do this on my own. He did save my life.

“So, what you saw on that memory byte, that was me as a baby and I’m pretty sure I absorbed a witch’s powers. Petra says I feel like her friend. She must mean Kiya—that’s the name she gave her. She must think her friend was somehow reborn as me but I don’t have past life memories like you do. So it can’t be true, right? Does that even make sense?”

He turned to me. “You aren’t a witch, La Roux. I’m never wrong when it comes to that.”

“Well, what am I then?”

“That’s not for me to say. When we get back to my place, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. He’ll be the one deciding what to tell you.”

“Oh,” I said. “Wait—I thought you were a consultant. You have a boss?”

“I’m not supposed to tell you. I do and I don’t. You’ll see.”

“Okay, well, what about Nephilim—can you tell me that?”

He made a kind of constipated groan and blew out a sharp breath.

“C’mon,” I whined. “You said you would tell me.”

“Yeah, I know.” He stopped walking and caught my gaze. He tramped to a tree and gestured for me to sit. “It kind of falls under the same umbrella as the other business. We’re about half way. Let’s take a break and I’ll start. If you are what I think you are, then it won’t matter.”

I perked up and sat cross-legged, folding my hands in my lap, careful not to do anything to arouse his irritation.

He reclined against the back of the tree trunk. “Where do you believe humans come from?”

“From the big bang and evolution. That’s what science tells us.”

“You aren’t religious?”

“No, I’m an atheist. I don’t believe in gods, I believe in what I see.”

“So billions of people around the world believe in some form of divine intervention—Christians, Muslims, Buddhists—but, they’re all wrong?”

“Yes.”

He squared his shoulders. “Well, you’d be right. They’re different versions of the same story. If you look closely enough, you’ll find there are similarities too coincidental to be dismissed as fable.”

“Like what?”

“Like the flood. It’s spoken about in the Bible, Greek mythology, ancient Babylonian times and in Egyptian mythology, to name a few. All speak about the great deluge that was sent to rid the world of Nephilim, abominations, or something similar. They all tell their own version of the same event.”

“So what’s Nephilim?”

“It’s the term humans have given to the by-product of an angel or god and a human union.”

“By-product, you mean offspring. So, I’m half angel and you are too?” He had to be kidding.

“Perhaps, or a demi-god, depending on who is telling the story.”

“So, just to be clear. One of my parents is a god, and the other is mortal? Yours too?” I snorted. My father was a divine asshole, that was for sure, but he looked normal. Maybe my mother was the special one. She would’ve had to be special to shack up with my dad. But something didn’t add up. “But, you said religion is false.”

He fidgeted with his shirtsleeves before answering. “Religion as this world knows it, yes that’s true.”

“You’re not making sense.” My brain hurt.

He leaned his head back on the tree trunk and studied me. “You could be the biggest Player this world has ever seen, and yet, you were discarded years ago. I don’t get it.”

“Player? Like gangsta style, or ladies man?”

“If you refer to the colloquial term used in the African American subculture, no, not that kind of player. And not the kind that uses manipulation to pick up women. I’ve said too much so you’ll have to wait. Let’s get going.”

I glanced up at the sky and agreed, the sun had started its descent but we still might have a few hours before dark. “So, I don’t get it, if not from gods, or the big bang, where did humans come from?”

His eyes burned holes through me and I squirmed from the attention. He finally broke the hold and angled his head to the sky. Aliens? Was this guy for real?

“Don’t mention any of this to Tommy. He’s in the dark about it, and I’d like to keep him that way. For his safety.”

Buddy, I wouldn’t even know where to start. I nodded briefly and stood up.

“Does he know about me, after what he saw the other night?” Does he hate me?

“I don’t think he understands what he saw. We don’t talk about it. He knows what I do for a living and I’ve told him you’re not a witch. He believes me. It will be simpler for you to keep quiet about it, at least for now.” He stood and turned on his phone. “Looks like we’ve got reception again,” he murmured. He checked his messages and fired a few back. He was silent after that. Not that I was complaining. I had a lot to think about and it pulled my stomach into all sorts of knots. He was crazy… or I was. I’d asked for information and that’s what he gave me. But aliens? Gods? Ten years ago, people didn’t believe in witches. We were wrong. I should know that better than anyone.

The cooler air tickled my face and provided relief from the long, cross-country walk. My thoughts traveled to my friends, and I hoped Kitty and Alvin were doing okay. I didn’t really care about Aunt Lucy and her festival, but what about Leila? Well, she was a work in progress. My stomach tightened as I glanced ahead at Cash. What kind of mess was he pulling me into? What kind of mess was I pulling him into?

Finally, we made it to town and dragged ourselves past a few beach shacks on the barren streets. The afternoon spent in the sun had made my mouth parched and skin tight. My fast healing took care of any sunburn, but I desperately needed hydration. There was no substitute for water. Lost in the sound of waves crashing over the not-too-distant hill, I didn’t notice the white Jeep Wrangler until it pulled up next to us.

“Y’all need a ride?” Tommy asked as he leaned out of the driver window.

My muscles relaxed at least half way, the rest would go after I enjoyed a nice cool shower or bath. Cash opened the back door for me before moving to the other side of the car.

“Nice threads,” Tommy joked.

“Shut up,” I said with a smile.

He chuckled as I slid into the back and flopped down onto the length of the seat, moaning into the leather. These guys sure knew how to pick nice cars.

“Seatbelt,” Cash snapped from the front.

Oh, right, Safety-Nazi. But a seatbelt had saved my life just a few hours before. I sat up, buckled myself in, then leaned back and closed my eyes. An instant later, someone shook me awake with gentle hands.

Chapter 12

“Roo, we’re here,” Tommy whispered.

I opened my eyes. Tommy held the car door open. “Sorry, must have dozed off.”

“Don’t blame you. You look like you been rode hard and put up wet.”

“Don’t know what that means, but thanks, I guess.”

Tommy whooped and slapped his thigh, then led me out of the vehicle with a sparkle in his eyes. “You don’t say thanks to that, Probie.”

We were parked next to a small cottage with a cobblestone stairway leading to a porch and a potted rose garden. The cottage looked terribly out of place in the Australian bush, although the surfboard leaning against the rendered balustrade helped a little.

Waves crashed on the other side of the dense forest surrounding us, and a small trail led into the trees. I suppose they wanted to be close to water for security. Like Cash said, witches feared water. Drowning was the only way they died permanently.

Tommy tugged on my hand and I turned to him, confused. He hesitated a moment then pulled me into a bear hug, lifting me off the ground. I tensed. It was the first human hug I’d had in three years. He put me down but kept his face buried in the hair at my neck. I patted his back awkwardly.

“Goddamn it, Roo, I was worried.” He spoke into my shoulder, his voice brittle, then cleared his throat and relaxed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. You’ve been through a lot.”

He let go, took a step back and rubbed the back of his neck, regarding me through dark lashes. When he looked at me like that, he seemed more like his brother, but leaner and scruffier and more… empathetic. They really were different.

“But you’re okay. You’re out of there. It’s okay.” He tugged his creased t-shirt and stood up straight. He was taller than I remembered. His eyes lit up. “I picked up your things from your place.”

My heart melted and warmth trickled to the rest of my body. Flashes of that refreshing shower crossed my mind, coupled with thoughts of my own clean clothing.

“Thank you, Tommy. I don’t know what I would have done without you. You’re the best. You know that, right?” I squeezed his shoulder, and I was sure he blushed. I had a thought. “Did you see Aunt Lucy?”

He shook his head.

“Uh-uh. I picked up your boxes from the front porch. She’d left them there. Bless your heart for packing those ahead of time for me.” He winked. He knew I had intended on moving in with Kitty. “Cash drove your bike here too. It’s parked round the back.”

I froze. “He drove my baby?”

I pictured him going into some sort of cardiac arrest and veering off the road.

“Yeah, but he can ride. I told you, he can do everything.” He pointed at the surfboard. A wetsuit hung over the rail beside it. He pulled me into the house but I paused at the entrance. Tommy noticed my hesitance. “Oh don’t worry, we got the place wired. Any witch trying to cross the threshold will trigger the static electricity alarm. Cash says it picks up their frequency or something. I don’t really get that woo-woo kinda shit.” He wiggled his fingers and made googly eyes, then slipped his arm around my shoulders. “I’m gonna enjoy this new touchy-feely Roo—no collar going off, lots of hugs. C’mon, I’ll take you to your room. With what you’ve been through, I’ll bet ya fixin’ to have a nice hot shower.”

“You read my mind.” As I stepped across the threshold, I received an electric shock and jumped—but no alarm.

Tommy frowned, “You okay?”

“Yep, just tripped. Sorry.” I blushed. I hated lying to him. I stepped away and made a beeline for a dining table in the large open area. It was littered with curious papers and gadgets. I reached for a piece of paper when Cash entered, slamming the door behind him.

“Don’t touch that,” he snapped, then stalked through the living room and down a hallway.

Yikes. Guilty of snooping.

“Yeah,” Tommy said. “That’s his work stuff.”

“Got it.” I turned around to check out the large room. A sitting area with two couches and a coffee table faced a beautiful granite fireplace. The country theme—white-washed wood, floral furnishings, and metal light fixtures—made it feel feminine and cozy. The kitchen was dead ahead. Cash had disappeared down a corridor the left of the sitting room, and Tommy led me down the right.

We stopped in front of a door. “This is your room, I’m across the house and Cash, well, he’s wherever he is.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, if he sleeps, it’s on the couch. Me and him don’t sleep so good but he’s got the bug worse. We both had it since we were kids. Must be hereditary or something.”

I opened the door. My old purple bedspread covered a Queen sized bed and a few of my knick-knacks were displayed on the dresser. Tommy pointed out the bathroom attached to my room and the walk-in-closet for my clothes, then left so I could freshen up.

I picked up a photo of my sister, my father and I that had been taken just before I was accused. We’d posed awkwardly, standing together, but we all seemed to be somewhere else. I studied my father’s face—tanned, blue-eyed and hard from years in the Military. What was he doing now, I wondered. Was he dead, or just absent? I looked at my sister’s soft face with a forced smile. My mind went numb when I thought of them. I should be feeling something other than disappointment, but I wasn’t. I sighed, put the frame down and headed to the bathroom.

After my luxurious shower, I found my clothes had been unpacked and folded away neatly in the walk-in robe. I ran my finger along the rows of folded fabric. Somehow, I didn’t think it was Tommy who color-coordinated and lined up the shirts perfectly. Cash must have helped. Maybe he wasn’t a sociopath after all.

I dressed in denim cut-offs and a light blue singlet and put on a touch of makeup. There wasn’t much to choose from. I’d have to pick up more. After rummaging through a drawer I found my new perfume and sprayed, wistfully breathing in the scent of my independence.

I left the towel in my hair, turban style, and padded to the kitchen. I was famished and polished off what looked like last night’s leftovers then made my way to the sitting room. Cash and Tommy were having a heated conversation about someone coming over. Cash was also newly washed, wearing jeans and a black t-shirt, his face flushed and hair glistening. Both were drinking something that smelled like whiskey and dry ginger ale. My tastebuds tingled. I desperately wanted a sip but didn’t want to be a further burden—I’d just polished off their food—so perched on the edge of a couch and toweled my hair.

“Who’s coming over?” They were probably talking about Cash’s boss. No one answered. When I looked up, they were staring at me.

“What?” I patted my soggy hair and stuck my chin out.

Cash raised an eyebrow. “Tommy tells me you are needed at your workplace tomorrow night.”

Tommy still squinted at me weird and scratched his dark mop of hair. What was his problem?

“I didn’t know, but that’s great. I’m also going to visit my friends.” Making some money to pay my way felt like the right thing to do. I couldn’t count on the kindness of strangers forever, especially when I’d crashed Cash’s car. I just hoped he had insurance.

Tommy grasped his brother’s shoulder then waved at my head with his other hand. “Uh, Probie, your hair is redder than a fox’s butt in pokeberry time. Did you use the wrong shampoo?”

I pulled my hair in front of my face to inspect it closely. Holy shit! The strands glowed with a warm light I’d never seen before. I ran to the bathroom and wiped the condensation from the mirror. The face that appeared was mine, but not the hair. It was flame red. Red! How was I going to explain this?

When I returned to the sitting room, Cash avoided my gaze and Tommy grinned, his wide mouth splitting his face, dimples twitching madly. His hands flew up in mock surrender.

“Don’t look at me, I like redheads,” he said.

The heavy truth thudded onto my shoulders. I’d done it myself, subconsciously. I’d bloody well hexed myself. Was this because I knew Kiya had red hair? In the memory byte, my mother’s hair changed from black to red when the witch had control. Deep down did I think I was her? My throat swelled, and I swallowed hard, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. The tension that had been building all day begged to be released. I slunk into the cushioned couch next to Cash and inspected my ruby red tresses, sobbing silently. First my lips changed, and then my hair. I had no control. I pulled a strand between my eyes and let go. It bounced. I sobbed. “Oh God. Is my hair curly?”

“Yes.” Cash shifted in his chair to face me, putting his arm along the back of the seat. “Listen, about working and visiting your friends, I don’t think it’s wise. Marc… er… my associate will help us out with that issue we spoke about earlier. He could turn up any time in the next few hours. One of us needs to be home.”

“Don’t cry, Probie,” Tommy said. “The red looks good. Hey, you want me to get you a drink?” I nodded sulkily. On his way to the kitchen, Tommy said, “I don’t want your friend here, Cash. I don’t like him. He’s half a brick short of a load if you know what I mean.” He tapped his temple.

“Yeah, well it’s not up to you, and I’d appreciate it if you made yourself scarce when he arrives. We’ve got serious business to attend to. La Roux was released to assist with my investigation and you’re only tolerated here because you said you wouldn’t get in the way of my work. Maybe head into town and get something to fill the fridge.” He pointed at me with his thumb. “This one eats a lot.”

“I’m here because Ma is worried about you, not because you tolerate me.” He finished pouring me a drink, put the soda bottle back in the fridge and slammed the door. “You don’t sleep and you don’t talk to anyone—not since… you know.”

“I’m busy, Tommy. That’s why I don’t speak to anyone. I don’t have time to coddle overprotective mothers and brothers. Maybe now the secret’s out and everyone knows that witches still exist, she’ll take my job seriously. I’m not doing this for the money.”

I mouthed “Thank you” to Tommy as he handed me the drink and took a grateful sip. I hadn’t planned on visiting Kitty and Alvin until morning, but their bickering gave me an opportunity. If I gave up my independence now, I wasn’t sure how much of myself would be left. Sneaking out discreetly shouldn’t be too hard.

With their arguing taking their full attention, it was the perfect time for me to do some reconnaissance. I slipped out the door mumbling, “Just getting some air.”

They barely glanced up.

A breeze rustled the leaves of the trees and the sky was headed toward a pinkish hue. A deep breath later, I felt calm and smiled, a weight lifted. After I surveyed the property and gathered the best way out would be the way in, I stopped to listen to the waves crashing in the distance. There was a small path that led to the beach. Witches were afraid of the water, so I’d be safe if I took a quick look. Curious, I picked my way across the twiggy ground and broke into a light jog down the gravelly limestone path.

The sound of the surf got louder the further I jogged. Coaxed toward the sound of freedom, I ran faster, crunching through forest debris. A burn bloomed in my chest and at the back of my throat.

The rocky path was winding and long.

Too long.

I’d assumed the beach wasn’t far because I’d heard waves crashing from the house. I was wrong. Eventually, I stumbled out of the forest onto fine, white sand, surprising a herd of kangaroos. They hopped away down the beach.

“Oh,” I said, surprised, palm to my forehead.

The view was breathtaking; the setting sun cast a pink, purple and orange glow over the lightly clouded sky.

I exhaled deeply, bent forward to rest my hands on my knees and pulled in a deep breath. The salty air sailed in and out of my lungs until a cool unease brought goose bumps to my skin. My fingers dug into my legs. The drop in temperature wasn’t from the time of day, but from a human-shaped shadow that blocked the dying light filaments.

Chapter 13

“Ello, ello, ello. What have we here?” A male voice with a British accent drew my gaze.

I gasped so suddenly I hiccupped and straightened my spine like a catapult. My hands blocked my eyes, but the vision of a nude young blonde man had seared into my retinas. I could still see him behind my eyelids.

“Where are your—hic—clothes?” I squeaked and thumped my chest with one hand, leaving the other over my eyes. Was this a nudist beach? But—whoa! The power of his dizzying aura pushed at me, causing my skin to itch and tingle like a million insect legs crawled over me. It was the strongest energy I’d ever felt.

“Clothes would be a hindrance, love. What say you and me dispense with the formalities and go at it like those hoppity bunnies I just saw bouncing down the beach.”

“They’re kangaroos—hic—not bunnies.” I took a gulp of air and held my breath. Wow, that just happened. He’d actually said those words. He was way too young to be making lewd insinuations. I exhaled and peeked through my fingers. Shaggy hair came to just below his ears, and he was naked. Stark naked. The only thing that covered his boyish but athletic physique was rosy, youthful skin. The cleft in his chin made him seem a little older, but still… he shifted a leg to the side, and waited for me to respond, smug but playful.

“Oh, are you actually serious?” I asked.

“Is the Pope a Catholic?” he asked.

I dropped my hands to my sides as he wiggled his eyebrows and put his hands on his hips. The intensity of his energy had waned, or I was getting used to it. One way or another, he wasn’t as intimidating.

“That’s more like it, love, nothing to be afraid of here.”

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. I looked down suggestively. “No, nothing indeed.”

I giggled and covered my mouth. He really wasn’t badly endowed.

He scrunched his handsome face for a second before his sky blue eyes sparkled again and he launched into a new line. “Just imagine your hands all over this body, sweetheart, you and me, rolling around on the sand. It’s been a while since I shagged a redhead you know. Some say Little Reds are bad luck, but not me! How about it, love?”

I rolled my eyes, turned away and headed back down the path. Seriously, did he have any luck with those lines?

“Does the carpet match the drapes?” he called after me.

Heat flooded my face and ears and I patted my cheeks. “Oh man, did you have to go there?”

“Precisely. I’m a virile young man. There is where I live.”

How did I stumble across a horny, nude, pre-pubescent boy? I growled and kept walking, stomping my feet. I needed to get to the house and shelved any thoughts of escaping to see my friends. Who knew what kind of trouble this weird boy was going to cause?

The gravel crunched behind me. He’d followed.

“Hang on a minute. We need to sort this out, yeah?” he called. He was closer but his speech was broken with gasps and curses as he hurried behind me. He must have found the sharp twigs a delight to his bare feet. “I can’t get you out of my mind, love, where you—ss—uh—going? It can’t be a coincidence us crossing paths like this, ow.”

I smirked at his painful pursuit and concentrated on not showing any sign of discomfort or weakness. He followed me relentlessly, spurting nonsensical pickup lines between bouts of hissing. I lost track of the distance we traveled, too caught up in his hilarious one-liners.

“No wonder you’re out of breath, you’ve been running through my head all day.”

An explosion of laughter erupted from deep inside my chest. Oh, no. I slapped my hand over my lips. It wasn’t nice to laugh at someone in his birthday suit, especially one so young. He looked younger than Tommy and I might give him a complex.

“What say you and me stop and take a breather, yeah? A good shag fixes everything. Let’s talk about this, yeah?”

“Nothing to talk about.” I waved my hand dismissively over my shoulder, but my cheeks hurt from smiling. I would not to turn around to watch him and his bits jiggle all over the path. Come to think of it, he didn’t seem to have any sense of reality. Maybe he was sick. “I don’t shag teenage boys.”

The light had faded, and I focused on the ground in front of me. His aura spiked, suddenly electrifying in its intensity. I stumbled.

Then a deep, velvety voice spoke. “Maybe you’d prefer to shag me looking like this, yeah?”

“What the—?” Strands of hair stung my eyes as I whipped around. My heart pounded in my chest and the hollow of my neck, making it hard to swallow. I wasn’t smiling anymore. I was a little scared.

The teenage boy had disappeared and in his place stood an older, muscular version. Stubble covered his angular jaw and a light drizzle of fuzz trickled from his neck down to his mortifying appendage. Oh boy, or man, or… whatever he was. I cleared my throat and flared my eyes. It was the same boy—he had the identical glint in his eye, cleft chin and he still ogled my chest. I put my hand forward and low to block the sight of his man parts and frowned. This was beyond strange.

“Who are you?” I narrowed my eyes.

“Who do you want me to be, love?” He thrummed his fingers on his abs lightly and regarded himself with obvious approval. Shaggy hair fell over his eyes as he looked down. “This James Bond type is a bit more impressive for the ladies, right? So, what say you?”

He smoothed his hair back and caught my eye. He took a step forward. Boy, even his calf muscles bulged out all manly.

I squeaked and started to back up. Uh-uh. No way was I going there.

My shoulders relaxed a little at his James Bond delusion; it took the edge off the seriousness of a nude man, twice my size propositioning me in the woods. I couldn’t stop my slight smile or the buzzing adrenaline that surged from the back of my brain. My expression spurred him on and his eyes and energy lit up like fireworks. He advanced with his hands out, groping imaginary balloons. “C’mon, love, those tits won’t squeeze themselves.” He pounced.

I shrieked and ran. Fire pumped through my veins, ignited by sparks from my mind, fueling me, pushing me faster and faster, away from the dizzying power. The thud of his steps and the power of his energy pulled at my core from behind. But my brain said, run.

I burst from the edge of the path and into the clearing at the front of house. Tommy’s car was the only thing separating me from the two standing on the porch. Their shocked faces looked my way as I sprinted towards them, waving my hands and screaming like a banshee—crazy, naked guy in tow.

Cash launched off the porch and skidded over the hood of the car just as the man collided with me. I swiveled my head and struggled to escape the sweaty, slippery mess, but he pinned me with his hips and his hands circled my waist.

Before I could push him off, he was pulled from me in one swift movement. He soared through the air and tumbled along the limestone gravel—ouch. Then, like a cat, he righted himself in one fluid motion to land on his feet. If I’d had any questions about whether he was human, they were gone.

“That’s enough, Marc,” Cash said from his spot between the man and me. Hang on, did he say Marc? Wasn’t that the name of his associate?

“Bollocks. You’re a right spoil sport, Nephilim,” Marc said and dusted himself off. “You’re lucky no other Players are here or I’d have your hide for that. But because it’s you, I’ll let it slide.”

“Put some clothes on and come inside.” Cash’s broad shoulders blocked my view, but I’d seen it all already. He grabbed my arm roughly and guided me back to the porch. “What were you doing out on your own?”

“Why didn’t you tell me your associate was a nude nymphomaniac?” I shirked away, pushed past a bewildered Tommy and stormed in the door. I barely registered the electric shock.

“Ooh, I fancy my redhead’s feisty,” Marc said behind me. “Makes for interesting sport.”

I dropped onto the couch facing the front door. No one would be sneaking up on me again. The coffee table was laden with appetizers—a welcome distraction—and I went to work sampling the antipasto goodies, saying a silent thank you to Tommy.

I kept an eye on the door and couldn’t decide if I was having fun or a little scared. This Marc guy was a real character. I mean, who acts like that in front of a stranger unless you have tickets on yourself? No wonder Tommy said he wasn’t all there in the head. But there was more to him than his foolhardy demeanor because his aura was the strongest I’d ever felt. He had to be hiding something behind that playboy attitude. He’d also said he could have Cash’s hide, so he had some power over the hunter.

Cash came through the doorway first, followed by a fully clothed Marc, who threw me a cheeky smirk. He wore jeans and black t-shirt—the identical outfit as Cash. I squinted at him, trying to figure out his game. How did he change so quickly? I dismissed my concern as my hands hovered over the plate. What to choose next—prosciutto, or a cracker with quince paste?

“No, you don’t,” Cash said from over my head. I paused, thinking perhaps he wanted the prosciutto.

“You, sit there,” he said to Marc and redirected him from the empty spot next to me to the opposite couch. Tommy glared at Marc from his position near the door, arms folded across his chest.

“Good idea, mate, better view from here,” Marc said and winked at me.

Cash ignored him and sat next to me with his arm along the back of the seat. His hand landed right behind my shoulders. Hmm, that body language felt territorial—not normal Cash behavior. Something fishy was going on.

“Bleedin’ hell. Sorry, I didn’t realize you two were an item.” Marc’s facial expression dropped as he waved his hand between Cash and me. He actually looked disappointed.

“They aren’t,” Tommy snapped and sat down next to Marc, narrowing his eyes at his brother.

“Fair game then?” Marc picked up an olive and popped it in his mouth. He appeared to be in his late thirties or early forties and projected the image of a perpetual playboy perfectly. He kept his steamy gaze riveted on me as he swirled the olive in his mouth and swallowed. I squirmed, suddenly grateful I’d put on makeup, and ran my fingers through the lengths of my hair. It didn’t feel as curly but it was still red.

Cash cleared his throat. “Don’t you have somewhere to be Tommy?”

Marc surveyed the table with disdain. “Yes, if this is going to take a while, we need more grub. Honey cakes and tea should do for a spot of dessert.” He gave Tommy a playful pat on the chest. “Off you go, lad.”

“Y’all serious?” Tommy’s voice broke.

Marc looked at Tommy and the air instantly chilled. “I never joke about food, lad, or tea.” He shook his head, and all playfulness fled the room.

“Tommy.” Cash stood up, grabbed the keys from a hook near the front and handed them to Tommy. “This is business.”

“But, he’s crazy.”

“Sod off.” Marc shooed him and waited.

“Okay fine.” Tommy adjusted his cap and checked his watch. “I’ll just make it to town before the stores close.” He slammed the door as he left.

Cash grabbed three beers from the fridge and lifted them in a silent request. Marc’s scrutiny stayed firmly around the vicinity of my chest. He held his hand up without looking away. “No thanks, I’ll wait for the tea.”

Cash put one beer back in the fridge and brought the others back to the couch. The decision was made for me. Another territorial power play?

“Now, we can talk business.” Marc rubbed his palms together, finally lifting his gaze to my face instead. “No business transaction should start without the proper introductions. Do you know who I am, love?”

Cash cracked the cap on one beer then handed it to me before opening his own. I took a quick swig for courage, savoring the icy, bitter bubbles as they coursed down my throat.

“Your name is Marc.” I stated the obvious.

“Sometimes.”

I fluttered my eyelids, exasperated. He laughed, a deep, honeyed sound that invited me to laugh too. How did he have such an effect on me?

“I’m known by many names. Some call me Marc, others call me Mercury, Hermes, Loki, Thoth—the Holy Spirit is a new one—take your pick, love.” He raked his gaze down my body waiting for the significance of his words register.

I blinked. “You’re a god?”

“Ding, ding, ding—five points to Little Red. You’re good at this game, sweet. I wonder what other games you play well.” His energy swelled as he picked up a cherry tomato and sucked it between his teeth, making sure I appreciated his display.

A god? That would explain a few things, like the body morphing and the huge… aura. I scratched my head and turned to Cash, wanting confirmation but no words came. So there was a god in the living room, eating gourmet food and waiting for tea and honey cakes. Marc had called himself names of different gods, from different myths and religions, but claimed to be the same person. It reminded me of what Cash had said about how all myths stemmed from the same extra-terrestrial race—well, that had been my assumption.

“And who might you be then, sweet, the pre-show entertainment?”

Cash choked on his beer and coughed to cover up his shock.

“You think I’m what?” Tiny tendrils of smoke curled off my beer bottle where the condensation met the heat of my fingers. I hastily put it back on the table and glanced down at my attire. Shorts and a singlet, not exactly a skirt up to my ass and breasts hanging out.

“This is the girl I was talking about,” Cash said and raised his eyebrows. “You know, the reason you’re here.”

Marc shuffled closer in his seat to stare at me through narrowed eyes and with full lips—why couldn’t I stop staring at his lips? I ran my hand under my hairline and lifted it to let some air in. Yes, I felt hot. His virulent aura affected me somehow.

“You’re the girl he was talking about,” he said slowly, The twinkle had left his eyes, his expression now hard. “She’s the girl. But she’s got red hair, yeah? And she has no markings from what I can see and her eyes aren’t even blue—has she got contacts on?”

Cash took in a deep breath. The tendons in his jaw ticked as he clenched his teeth. Oh good, it wasn’t just me who pissed him off. “No—we don’t know. That’s why I asked you here, to see if you could tell anything. I believe she’s slipped through the system, like I did.”

“She’s not registered?”

“I don’t know—neither does she.”

“Does she have a mentor?” he asked Cash without taking his eyes off me.

“Her father, I presume.”

Marc’s eyes narrowed. “I can’t see how…” His voice trailed off. “Okay, I want to hear it from you. What’s his name, love?”

“Who—Dad?”

“No, Father Christmas.” He raised an eyebrow then held up his hand. “No, don’t tell me, I know that Player’s name already. I was just having a laugh. Yes, your father. What’s his name?”

“My father’s name is Bruce Urser. But he’s not my mentor; he abandoned me years ago.” Cash flinched mildly and Marc swallowed before I added, “That man couldn’t mentor a sheep.”

“That’s a serious accusation there, Little Red.”

“No, it’s not. Everyone knows it, he’s good for nothing.”

“No. That’s not what I mean. For a progeny to accuse her mentor of abandonment before she is fully aware and registered is a crime punishable by eviction. Game over—Player removed. You want to make your complaint formal, yeah?” He clicked his fingers at Cash. “Get me a notebook, so I can write this down, yeah?”

“Hold up.” I grabbed the beer off the table and sculled half the bottle then paused, waiting for the gas to settle. I laughed through my nose. “Are you guys serious? Because it sounds to me like you’re saying we’re all part of some game? The world is some giant game board and people are training their children to play for what—world domination?”

“Of course not, that sounds like codswallop. It’s never worked that way.” Marc snorted then glared at Cash. “I thought you told her.”

Cash shrugged, expression flat. “Why would I tell her if you haven’t confirmed her status?”

Marc’s tanned skin took on a reddish hue, and he turned back to me. “It’s more technologically advanced than that, more like one of your computer programs than a game board. We download our souls into empty bodies, or avatars as you might call them, then we race to see who can make the biggest impact using the life we’ve been given. By impact, I mean improve the world, evolve it, or just become noticed by the universe. You see, time travels differently where we come from, it’s heavier there—more gravity, different dimension—so you might have a hundred years go by to our, let’s say, twenty. We worked out that, once here, we could live many times over, fast-forward our evolution, then return to our own home and our own bodies the better for it. We eventually got bored playing amongst ourselves and decided to add humans to make the Game more challenging. The Queen will have me tell you that she created the humans out of love, but we all know better. This game has been going on for centuries.”

“You created human life? Witches too?”

“I’m flattered, love, but I didn’t create anything. The glory of that award goes to a team of scientists and the Queen herself—may she reign forever. They’re all made in our image, just smaller, less intelligent versions confined to the third dimension. They were actually here before we discovered the Game, we just improved them. And as for the others—what did you call them, witches?” The word looked like it left a bad taste in his mouth. “They should never have happened. They’re a glitch in the system and need to be eradicated before they distort the Game and skew the results. This alliance between witches and humans has gone too far.”

I must have looked puzzled because he leaned forward. “Don’t you understand? If the human race is polluted, it will be eradicated, washed away. We will start over.”

“You mean another flood?”

“If it comes to that, perhaps. The monarchy sets the rules and, as the Queen is a recluse, the choice will probably be given to her son, here on Earth. If anyone can find the sodding bastard, that is.”

“So, is she a Player?” Cash asked impatiently, gesturing in my direction.

Marc gaze traveled around the edges of my body, like he looked beyond my skin, as though he could read my aura. He closed his eyes, took a breath, then opened them.

“Your father’s name is Bruce Urser?”

I nodded.

“Bloody prick, he is. Causing all sorts of mischief,” he muttered and scratched his stubble then looked at me. “Did your father ever tell you strange bedtime stories as a child?”

That was true. When I was little, he would watch me make my bed, military style, and tell me stories. Then he would force me to repeat them, word for word. If I stuffed up, he’d pull the sheets off the bed and make me do it again while he repeated the story.

“Yeah.” I scratched my head, then picked at the label on the beer bottle. “His favorite was about this evil Queen who made a museum out of living people, like one of those wax museums. She sold tickets to visitors from all over the universe to marvel at the pitiful creatures. They would stare at the frozen statues all day long but had to leave by nightfall because as soon as the sun set, the statues would come to life. They would dance and sing and have a great old time, thinking they were living life to the fullest, totally unaware of the day they had missed. One day, the Queen’s son, a curious visitor, stayed behind and saw those statues come to life and felt pity for them. He told them about the wonders the sunlight held and how they’d been cheated out of this treasure, cursed to only walk in the dark. The statues turned on the Queen and paid for their freedom in blood. She slaughtered thousands of her living statues, and banished the rest, along with her rebellious son. They were never allowed to return to her paradise.”

“Wow,” Marc said. “That’s one I haven’t heard before.”

“It’s just a fable.”

“Sure,” Cash said. “The real story is slightly different, but every mentor has the right to give their own version of the truth before their progeny is released into the Game.”

“So,” Marc said. “Your father thought you were important enough to educate as a child, but he left you before bringing you into the fold. Well, if your father is the same Urser I know, then it’s likely you’re the one he had a problem with a few years ago. He had a mishap with one of his… well, downloads I suppose you can call it that. The soul scheduled to move into his newborn was bumped out mysteriously.” He tapped his chin. “Ava was her name, a warrior goddess—he only ever chose warriors for his entourage, but she was discovered wandering the halls of Purgatory with her memory wiped. She’s since been redeployed to another mentor. I guess he believed anyone strong enough to bump Ava out would be a worthy disciple indeed. From memory, your father stayed on for a while to see if his progeny was up to scratch, but I haven’t heard much about it since. We all thought you were a failed attempt and forgotten, but from the looks of your aura, we were obviously wrong. That’s certainly a disappointment.”

“I’m sorry?” I asked.

“No need to apologize, love. I was just hoping to taste your sweet cherry, but I guess I’ll never get to sample those delights. Forbidden fruit to the likes of me.”

I blushed at his brazen remarks, but had to ask, “What do you mean the likes of you?”

He smoothed his locks and gave me an entitled look. “I’m the Gamekeeper. I can’t fraternize with Players, it’s cheating. I’m here in flesh and blood, not just my soul. That’s why I have no markings.”

“I don’t understand.” I tapped my fingers on the bottle and directed my statement to Cash, hoping to get a little help but he avoided my gaze and looked directly at Marc.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Because, this would change everything. We need to be sure.”

“Well, I will need to examine her of course, and go over the records, but her aura is above standard.” He smirked at me, then said to Cash, “If this is true, the monarchy is going to have a field day. It’s bad enough we’ve let one slip through the cracks, but two?”

Chapter 14

Cash and Marc spoke about me like I wasn’t there. Examine me? I didn’t think so. My fingers grew hot and my knuckles were white as I squeezed the glass bottle. I was examined at the police station after my recent arrest and I was examined three years before as well—when they’d collared me. My eyes glazed over as I remembered the humiliation, the leers plastered across the faces of the officers. I wasn’t up for that again anytime soon.

“Hey.” Cash angled himself in my direction so the weight of his gaze rested on me. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, why?”

He pointed to the boiling bottle of beer foaming over my hand.

“Whoops.” I bit my lip and gently placed the steaming bottle on the coffee table. The bubbles stopped. I cleared my throat and looked at the men. Cash grabbed my chin and leaned in to sniff the surrounding air.

“You lovers want some privacy, yeah?” Marc moved to leave.

“Marc,” Cash said in a clipped tone, without looking away.

Marc lowered himself back onto the couch. He grinned. “I get to watch?”

This was insane. All I wanted was to hide under my purple blanket until I fell asleep. I rubbed my temples.

Cash tapped his fingers on the back of the sofa sending little vibrations through the couch, then rubbed his thumb across his lip. “Your eyes went black,” he said, finally.

I swallowed and lightly touched my lashes. “Like a witch?”

“Not quite. The black only covered your irises. A witch’s eyes go inky all over, completely covering the whites.”

“Well, aren’t you just a wondrous thing?” Marc gave me a tight-lipped smile. “Right-O, let’s dance. Up you get, love.” He stood up and moved to the edge of the coffee table, then waved for me to join him, a glint in his eyes.

I didn’t move. “I’m sorry, but I don’t even know who you are. Your aura is ten kinds of crazy, waving at me from all sorts of frequencies. You changed appearance in the blink of an eye and you keep staring at my boobs. I need a few explanations before I agree to be examined. What the hell is going on?”

Marc stepped around the coffee table to move closer. “Did you say you can read my aura? How old are you, love?”

“I’m almost twenty-four.”

“It’s true,” Cash added.

“Twenty-four!” Marc looked up and glowered at the ceiling. “What a monumental cock-up.” He set his glare back on me. “Surely you noticed you were going through some changes around the time of your twenty-first birthday?”

I stared at the floor, eyes blurring as it hit me. I spoke softly. “They collared me just before my twenty-first birthday. Since it’s come off, I’ve noticed some differences, especially the aura thing. That’s new.”

“You can really sense auras?” Marc looked shocked.

“Yeah, can’t you all?”

Cash and Marc exchanged a look and Marc shrugged. “That’s an unusual skill to have, love. Not many of us can do that. But you usually learn all of this from your mentor and after registration.”

“What if I don’t want any part in this game?” I asked.

“There’s no if. You are. But you need to be registered or Players will target you. They’ll try to kill you anyway, but at least you’ll have some education. Because you aren’t registered or allied to a house, you’re a sitting duck. You need to know what and who you’re up against.”

“So it’s kill or be killed?” I didn’t want to kill other Players, especially Cash. He’d saved my life.

“There’s no need to set our chins wagging now. First, let’s make sure you’re one of us.” Marc snapped his fingers. “C’mon, love. People to see and places to go, yeah?”

I stood to join him. “I don’t have any marks.”

“Well, we won’t know unless you show me now will we? Besides, I have a way of bringing things to the surface if you know what I mean.” He made a face at Cash, probably hoping to get a little boys club joke happening.

Cash didn’t blink.

“Just because you like to walk around nude, doesn’t mean I do.” I jerked a thumb at Cash. “His markings are pretty big, so I think it’s obvious I don’t have any.”

I wore a summer singlet so there was enough skin showing at my shoulders, and my arms were completely bare. My legs were naked up to my thighs.

He pursed his lips. “Lose the top, lovely.”

I looked at Cash. “You can look the other way, please.”

“Why?”

“Seriously?”

He shrugged.

Marc held up his hand. “I got this, love. He has a condition, you know.” He turned to Cash and spoke loudly, enunciating every syllable. “Women get shy when men ogle them. So…” he motioned for Cash to turn around.

“I’m not ogling. I’m making sure you remain professional.”

“Oh for the love of…” I pulled my singlet over my head, leaving my purple bra exposed. “That’s where it stops,” I said. “I’m not pulling off my pants, or my bra.”

“I need to see all of it, love.”

He dodged the scrunched up singlet I threw and inched closer. He circled around behind me and gathered my hair in his hands, lifting it off my neck. “Hold this,” he stated. I did. “So you’ve never had the Mentor-Progeny ritual with your father?”

“I don’t even know what that is.” He continued to circle me, scrutinizing my skin with heavy lids. His energy flared and dizzied me. I closed my eyes to concentrate on staying upright and jumped when his cool fingers trailed the bare skin over my shoulders and dipped at my collarbone. I shivered at his feathery touch.

Marc’s breath hitched, and the fireplace erupted into flames. I glanced over my shoulder. He coughed. “Sorry about that, sweet, my bad.” He waved his hand in the direction of the flames and they died down to a cinder. Manipulating fire? Of course he could.

“You done?” Cash said in clipped tone.

Marc sighed, “Just one more—”

“You bastard!” I yelped as he pulled the waistband of my shorts and had a peek inside.

“—place to look.”

I skipped away from him.

“Nice bum, love, but no markings.” He dropped the arrogance. “With the intensity of your aura, your markings should cover a large surface area, so…” He glanced at Cash. “Yes, I’m done.”

He stood back to rest his hands on his hips and swept his gaze over me one last time.

“I don’t understand why he left you, but it’s easy to see the confusion. You have no markings, and you appear to be a witch with your black eye business. He was mistaken.”

“So that’s it—I’m one of you?” I asked as I fished the singlet off the floor and pulled it over my head. I collapsed back into the couch.

“Despite not having a single mark, your commanding aura is one hundred percent a Player’s. Take into account your healing ability and lack of actually being a witch. Also, your new abilities tell us you are more than human. Then of course, knowing who your father is, my verdict is that you should be registered as soon as possible.”

A stone settled in my stomach. So I was one of these Players. I shook my head. “Why don’t I remember who I was before—” I swallowed hard, unsure if I wanted to say the next bit out loud “—downloading into this body?”

“It’s not fair if you remember how you played last time. Besides, inferior human bodies can’t hold all the knowledge in our brains. That’s why we interbreed so they can heal fast to accommodate our supercharged souls. Who you were is a mystery that will only be solved when you die and return to our world. Yes, I am the god-of-the-in-between and it’s my duty to escort souls to and from Purgatory, but I can’t possibly catch every single Player who missteps. There are thousands you know. I dare say the Queen will reprimand you when you return, but as long as you are here, you’re free to play however you want.”

“So what’s the purpose of this Game? What do you win?” I asked. “I should make it worth it, right? I mean, I’m in the shit here and, apparently, I’ll be in the shit when I get back to wherever, so I may as well make the best of it.”

“There you go, love, that’s the spirit. What do you win? Well, it’s not really a prize but a leap forward in evolution. You do well, and you get more powerful and move up the ranks of the Empire. You do poorly, you get weaker and move down. The Universe judges the Game. It listens and allots you evolutionary progression or regression once you have finished. The better you listen back, the better you will do.”

“Listen? What does that even mean?”

“Trust your instincts, love. You’ll do well.”

“Is the Queen the biggest winner then, if she’s the head of your Empire?”

Marc snorted; even Cash seemed to smirk.

“What?” I asked.

“The Queen didn’t invent the Game. It was her son. He took the planet from her and ruined it. The Queen was devastated when her little science experiment became a travesty and she disappeared behind closed doors. The Game was the only way she could keep the traitors on this planet contained until she decided what to do with them. That was thousands of years ago. She still rules, of course. But she’s never played a game. She is far too evolved for anyone to even think about toppling her.”

“What about me?” Cash interjected. “You haven’t found anyone else missing from your line-up? Anyone I might be?”

“Where the two of you are concerned, I’m gobsmacked. What’s that?” Marc pointed to Cash’s arm.

Cash moved between Marc and me. “My markings are growing. Each time a memory surfaced, and she touches me, they got bigger. It’s happened twice in the last few days.” He lifted his shirt, muscles bunching and abs contracting as he peeled it off, then folded it neatly and handed it to me. He was built like a machine. A well oiled, dangerous and tightly coiled machine. I pretended to look at the stars on his skin, but I really studied the way it pulled tight over his biceps to reveal the threading beneath when he clenched his fists.

Marc prodded the markings. “They grew when she touched you during an episode?”

“Yes, or maybe even just because she was in the same room. I don’t know. It sounds implausible, but”—he licked his lips and glanced at me—“we’re linked.”

“Implausible, but not impossible. Can you do it again?” Marc asked me. “I don’t think his markings are complete. Inducing another episode would help the cause.”

“Seriously?” Cash said.

Marc displayed his palms. “I can’t read your aura, hunter, I need all the help I can get.”

Huh. That was interesting, Cash was invisible to Marc too.

Cash sat next to me. I now had a face full of pectorals and abs, just the thing I was trying to avoid. He draped his arm over the back of the couch and watched me. I was vaguely aware of Marc coming to stand at my side.

“Um, so what am I supposed to do?” I asked them.

“Buggered if I know. Try touching him.” Marc actually looked like he was enjoying himself.

I put my fingers on Cash’s forehead. Nothing happened. I laughed through my nose. “This is absurd.” But when Cash looked offended, I apologized and looked down.

“Not a single change. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” Marc sat back down. “In the meantime, I’ll check with home base. Since your father gave you up for a pittance, you can have your friend here step in as mentor until you complete your trials. He will educate you and train you.”

“So that was all for nothing?” Cash put his shirt back on.

“On the contrary, we’re getting closer to finding out who you are and, so far, what I see confirms our original supposition. We carry on with our plan. Get that book we spoke about.” He looked at me and leaned forward. “You on the other hand… You could be a wolf in sheep’s clothing, attractive sheep’s clothing, but a wolf nevertheless.”

I said the first thing that came to my head. “You like shagging sheep then?”

Marc burst out laughing. “Oh, you have no idea do you, love?” He reclined along the couch and his clothing flickered to reveal his nude, buff body. When heat flooded my face, he broke into more laughter, a deep resonating sound that made his Adam’s apple bob and brought my attention to his manly neck.

I let my eyes do a slow burn in his direction. “I don’t want to know. That’s gross.”

“Oooh.” He gave me a sultry look and kissed the air in my direction. “We’ll have to work on that. We’ve got plenty of time before your registration and I can be very convincing.”

I took the empty tray to the kitchen and dropped it loudly on the counter. As I returned to stand behind Cash’s couch, headlights filled the room. Tommy was back. Marc rose and so did Cash.

Mark spoke quickly. “There’s not much else we can do until your lineage is one hundred percent confirmed. So for you, Mr. Party Pooper—we wait for your missing soul tripartite to return and you, Little Red, will complete your mentorship ritual within forty-eight hours and I’ll let you go a couple of weeks before registering. Samson will explain the details.”

I wasn’t fully listening because I was stuck on the Cash missing part of his soul bit. As we made our way to the door, I grabbed his sleeve and whispered, “Does Tommy know about your soul thingy?”

Cash’s face darkened. “No, and I want to keep it that way.” He shouldered past me and followed Marc out the door, turning at the last minute. “He doesn’t know about any of this. He’s an innocent.”

We reached the foot of the porch the same time as Tommy. “Y’all finished? But I found honey cakes. Do you know how many places I had to go to?”

Marc snatched the bag out of Tommy’s hand and fished out a sugared cake. He downed it in one mouthful and dipped his head back to stare at the stars, humming and making pleasure sounds until he swallowed. He took a step towards the beach path, then turned to grin at me.

“I almost forgot to give you something.” He skipped back to me, grabbed my face between his palms and planted a sugary kiss on my lips.

My head spun and my eyes flew wide as an electrical torrent of invisible energy flowed into me. I staggered, vaguely aware of Tommy slamming the door behind me. On reflex, I yanked on Marc’s energy, trying to throw him off balance. He grunted and tried to pull away but I grabbed his hands and held on, sucking in more of his energy. He stuck his tongue in my mouth. Gah! I pulled away to see his eyes dark with lust. Not quite the effect I was hoping for.

“Tsk, tsk.” He waggled his finger in my face. “You bit off more than you can chew there, love. There’s plenty of time for that later.” He slapped me on the butt and swaggered away. “Parting gift to remember me by.”

As he walked, his clothing disintegrated, falling off his body like grains of sand and dispersing into mist.

“Cheerio,” he called and vanished into the night.

I steadied myself on the doorframe, but was shocked by the barrier alarm. I shook my head, dizzy and exhausted. What had his energy done to me? My lids drooped and burned. I mumbled to someone in the living room and ambled down the hall to my room.

“Roo.” Tommy trotted after me. “You okay?”

My knees buckled, and I sat on my bed. “Yeah. Just tired.”

“What’s in the package?”

Package? I blinked at the brown shoe box sitting beside me. A soft breeze touched my face, and the curtains billowed gently. Lethargy fled in an instant as my instincts went on high alert.

My windows had been closed when I left.

Tommy called for Cash.

I picked up the box. Alarm jangled my nerves. But surely I was overreacting. Maybe I had opened the window.

I lifted the lid and screamed.

Chapter 15

A dead crow stared at me. It was crammed into the box and had feathers falling from its skin. The head twisted awkwardly and a pungent, sweet smell assaulted my nose. The crows at The Cauldron had nothing on this stiff, rotting corpse staring at me through one cloudy eye.

I seemed to be underwater, listening to Cash’s pounding feet get closer.

“Ugh,” Tommy said. “That smells bad enough to gag a maggot. Let me take that off your hands, Probie.” His voice trembled as he tried to remove the box but my fingers wouldn’t budge. They were as stiff as the animal in front of me.

“The window is open.” Cash moved to the curtains, his feet crunched on broken shards of glass. He put his head through the hole to look outside. “How did I not hear this?”

My fingers cramped from clutching the box. The evil had found me. It had followed me and now my new innocent friends were in danger too. Tremors set in and the box shook.

Tommy tugged at it but I tugged back. I dropped the box to the bed and pushed Tommy away. “No! I don’t want it to touch you,” I said then turned to Cash. “Get away from the window, quick.”

I skirted the bed and pulled him stumbling back.

“It’s my fault.” I palmed my forehead and eyed the box.

“Roo, we can handle ourselves,” Tommy scoffed.

“He’s right—” Cash started.

“No! If I hadn’t come here you’d all be—don’t touch it Tommy!” I launched myself at Tommy who had leaned toward the box. But I was too late.

“There’s a picture in here.” He pulled a white square from under the feathers. He turned it over. Leila and Aunt Lucy at the last food festival. They squinted into the sun and sweat glistened their brows, but they looked happy. I’d taken the shot—always on the outside looking in.

“Petra’s been at the Manor,” I mumbled. “That photo is from our gallery wall.”

“It could’ve been removed by anyone but, as your aunt is missing and Petra seems to have an affinity with crows, you’re probably right,” Cash said.

My thoughts ran wild. It was bad enough she’d desecrated the estate home, but Petra had been in my new room, my safe haven with the purple bedspread. That blood sucking, body-snatching witch had been in my room.

“Do you feel anything out there?” Cash jerked his head to the window. He’d taken the attack of the familiars in his stride, now this. How could this not affect him? Even Tommy was pale.

“Don’t you get scared?” I asked. “Doesn’t this shock you?”

He shrugged. “Fear is a useless emotion and I’ve seen too much to be shocked anymore.”

Tommy flinched at Cash’s words. I wanted to ask more—what had happened to him? What had he seen? But Cash asked me to check for auras again, so I cast my senses out.

“I can’t feel anything beyond the alarm. It blocks my abilities. How did she get past it?”

“She may have bewitched a person to deliver the package. The static alarm only tests the energy field of witches or familiars. I’m going to check the perimeter. Stand on the porch, Roo. Check for any auras bigger than a squirrel, then move into the living area and wait for me.”

“What does he mean about checking for auras?” Tommy asked as we followed Cash to the front.

“Oh. Um.” Aware that we’d accidentally spoken candidly about my abilities in front of Tommy, I looked to Cash for help. He hadn’t wanted Tommy involved, and neither did I.

Cash jumped in with an explanation that vaguely covered all of my abilities—my attack at birth. “She’s special Tommy, she has gifts,” he said. “She can help me fight against this infestation of evil in the world. It’s a good thing.”

“Wow, you can do that?” Tommy asked. “Feel auras?”

I shrugged and looked at my feet.

“Cool,” Tommy said. “I mean, I knew you were special, but—”

“Let’s go,” Cash urged.

We jumped into action. I cast my senses out past the cottage, finding nothing significant. Cash checked the bullets in the magazine of his gun and disappeared into the darkness. Tommy disappeared in the other direction to dispose of the carcass.

I took my place on the sofa facing the door. Fatigue washed over me but I couldn’t close my eyes. I was too frightened. Whoever sent that box, whoever broke into my room… they had found me. They would find me anywhere. My bet was on Petra. The Inquisitor wouldn’t get off his ass—although, his side-kick… I shivered, hunched low in the seat and hugged myself.

Tommy returned and sat next to me. He popped a cigarette in his mouth, hesitated, then plucked it out and ran it under his nose, inhaling its scent. He fidgeted beside me until I was about to wiggle away. Then he pulled the photo from his back pocket.

“It says something on the back. ‘Heard about the animal attack. They won’t bother you while I’m around. I’ll be working at the festival as planned. Come and I’ll reveal your truth. Eternally yours, Sister.’ You were attacked? What haven’t you guys been telling me?” he asked.

I groaned. Well, that confirmed it was Petra. She had either gleaned the festival information from Leila, or possessed Aunt Lucy right now. Had she been there the whole time? The thought made me shudder. They’d both worn a lot of perfume—maybe it had been to cover the stench of decay.

“Roo!” Tommy said, interrupting my angst. “When were you attacked?”

Cash walked in, saving me from stuttering something inane.

“There’s nothing out there, now,” he said and took the photo from Tommy. “Well, it’s definitely from Petra and, if you believe this, it sounds like she didn’t send the Familiars. If that’s true, then there could be other witches lurking who might be after you. This is bigger than I anticipated.” He pointed to the second half of the writing then looked at me. “What’s this about the festival?”

Tommy stood up, face reddening. “Who attacked you?”

“Urser Estate is supplying the wine at this year’s festival beach barbecue and I think it means she’s planning to continue the ruse and work at the event. Does that mean she wants to establish a life here—masquerading as Aunt Lucy?”

Cash narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. He stalked to the dining table and threw the photo onto the pile of papers then returned to stand in front of me. “This is good, we’ll know when and where she’ll be. Are you sure that’s what she meant—she’ll be there?”

I shrugged. “I guess so.”

“Tell me about this event, then I’ll come up with the details and let you know what I expect you to do. Tommy, you don’t need to be involved in this. You can leave.”

“Wait just a goddamn second.” Tommy exploded. “Is somebody going to explain who attacked you? Were you hurt?”

“It’s nothing. It happened on the way here, but we handled it. It’s why I had you pick us up.”

“I thought you just had a small car accident.” Tommy sat down hard, then stuck out his chin. “No. If you’re making plans, they should involve me. You’ve both been keeping me in the dark and I’m sick of it. I don’t want you putting Roo in front of a psycho witch who’s fixin’ to take her to the other side of heaven. That just ain’t going to happen. I’ll go with her. I’m no hunter so the witch won’t be afraid of me.”

Cash looked at his little brother for a minute. “You’re right, Tommy,” he finally said. “Roo being alone is not a good idea. But you have to do as you’re told, got it?”

I yawned. Roo alone. It was an extremely inviting concept at that moment. I spent the next thirty minutes explaining the food festival and its formalities and then sat silently while they bickered over the best course of action. Even though Tommy had no idea how to take down a witch, it didn’t stop him putting his two cents in. Eventually I excused myself to go to bed, got half way to my room and remembered the smashed window. I returned to the living room, chewing my lip. “Um. I don’t really want to sleep in that room.”

Tommy, half-way through the bag of his hard earned sweeties, said through a mouthful of honey cakes, “You want to sleep in my room?”

“I can sleep on the couch, it’s no biggy. Or just point me in the direction of a hammer and some wood, I’ll board up the window.”

“No. You can sleep on Tommy’s bed, he can take the sofa. I’ll board up the window later.” Cash gave Tommy a meaningful look.

Tommy stood up, dusted the sugar from his mouth and put his arm around my shoulders. Despite the weight, I felt a hundred times lighter immediately. His embrace was comforting, familiar and strangely enough, felt like home—not the home I’d grown up in, but the one I’d always hoped I did.

“Everything’s going to be all right, you’ll see,” he said. “Think them positive thoughts and everything will turn out roses and pancakes”—he kissed the top of my head—“with syrup on top.”

He did a manic tidy of his room and picked up what he could. The rest, he kicked under the bed. As he tidied, I kept my eyes on the window, watching and waiting, daring the curtains to move. But they didn’t. I crawled onto the bed and peeled off the navy blue covers to slip underneath, fully clothed. The luxurious texture of the sheets slid over my skin. I sighed and closed my eyes.

“These smell wonderful.” I murmured into the pillow. “Heavenly.”

“Hang on a minute.” I felt Tommy shift onto the bed next to me. “Say cheese.”

I groaned at the interruption and opened my eyes to find he’d reclined next to me with his camera pointed at our faces. “Bedroom selfie,” he said as the flash blinded me.

“What was that for?”

“Proof for when I tell everyone we slept together.” He smirked and rolled off the bed. “I’ll let you sleep now.”

“Tommy?”

He paused in the doorway, smiling at his camera screen. “Yeah?”

“So, you really don’t mind about my… uniqueness? You don’t think I’m…” A freak?

He pulled off his baseball hat, sat on the edge of the bed and patted the blanket over my hip. “Roo, I think you’re great. Nothin’s going to change my mind about that. Look, if you’re having trouble sleeping, I’ve got a few lullabies and stories up my sleeve.”

“Oh no, don’t worry about it.”

“Yep, Ma and Pa used to take turns telling us stories, on account of us getting those nightmares all the time.”

“I’m fine, seriously.” I put a hand on his arm. “You said, us.”

“Yeah, Cash and me both get them. It’s why we don’t sleep too well. We don’t remember much about them, just wake up in a poorly sort a way. They stopped telling stories after the accident. I guess it was harder to tell with just one person, and I was old enough by then.”

“What happened?”

“I thought you knew.” Tommy pulled out an old silver neck chain from under his shirt. “This was my father’s. He died a few years back in a car accident when Cash was learning to drive. It was nasty—you seen his scars, right?”

An ache hit the back of my throat. Oh, Cash.

“He had his first blind attack while they were driving. The roads were wet and well, you can guess the rest. It’s why he won’t drive with anyone else in the car. He doesn’t want anyone dead on account of his episodes.”

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” I pulled the covers up to my chin, wanting to stuff them inside my gigantic mouth. And I had teased Cash about being a safety-Nazi. I was so stupid. “It must be painful to talk about.” I’d even joked with Cash, calling him “Dad” when he told me to eat the protein bar before driving.

You should just get up and leave. My subconscious snarled. Go back to the witch. She’s the only one who deserves you.

What? I sat up, surprised at the vehemence of my own thoughts. Were they my thoughts? Why would I think that?

Because you’re useless. This time, the words sounded crystal clear.

“Did you hear that?” I asked. My nerves skittered, rebelling against the exhaustion rolling through me.

“Hear what?” He tilted his head.

I realized how ridiculous I was being. “Nothing, sorry…”

He shrugged. “Let’s get on with the story.” He gently pushed my shoulder. “Probie, you need to lie down if you want to sleep. Unless you know some new fandangled way I don’t?”

I sank back into the covers, closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I was losing it. I felt a soft touch on my head as he pulled hair from my face.

“Okay tell the story,” I said with a small smile.

“So there was this guy, and he was a superstar,” Tommy said. “His name was Jesus Christ and everyone loved him because he—”

“Tommy, I’m not religious. I’m sorry I don’t—”

“Shh.” He placed his finger on my lips. “I’ll just sing the lullaby, I forgot all the words, anyway. Okay, so… well, go on, git yourself relaxed and close your eyes.”

I gave him a sideways smirk. I liked this. He soothed me.

As soon as I was in position, Tommy softly hummed a tune I recalled as belonging to Jesus Christ Superstar. It had been a Broadway hit, and the score had topped the charts for years. I shut up and listened.

“Try not to get worried. Try not to turn on boys who sit next to you. Oh don’t you know, everything’s all right, yes everything’s fine and I want to sleep next to you tonight…”

I tried to stop a laugh, but it burst through my nose. I covered my face with the blanket. “That’s not how the song goes.”

“Shh.” He patted me and continued to sing. “Close your eyes, just relax and take a chill pill tonight…”

He had a wonderful voice, soft and soothing. Despite the imaginative lyrics, I felt my thoughts drift.

My last thoughts were of random disturbing visuals—dead birds, evil horses, the feeling of mid-air weightlessness when we rolled the car. And the book Marc said Cash was after… it had something to do with his soul.

Chapter 16

My mother held out her hand to me, like in the memory byte. But this wasn’t that, I knew because I could hear her. I couldn’t understand her; she spoke in French but I could tell she was desperate, scared even. Then her long black hair changed to red, just like it had in the memory byte. Her eyes filled with black tears that overflowed and dropped to the ground to form an abyss.

She was the witch—Kiya. “You’re going to cause pain if you stay. Your love will kill your friends. Leave, find Petra. She has the answers you need, not these people.”

But my mother fought her again from the inside. She grabbed her head between her hands and pulled her hair, crouching low, screaming until her hair changed back to black and her eyes were compassionate once more. “La Roux,” she said in English. “Don’t listen to the witch—she is full of lies. Listen to your mother. I love you, no matter what happens, I love you. You must do the right thing.”

I gasped, a surge of warmth spread through my body, but then the dream changed. I no longer saw my mother or the witch but sat on a log at the beach, a fire crackling before my eyes.

“Love, about time you showed up, you’ve been running through my mind all day…” His voice echoed as if from a great distance. My head swam.

“Marc?”

It was hot. I was hot, burning with desire. I fought an invisible game of tug-of-war. He pulled—he wanted me, but I didn’t want him. I pushed back—I ran.

I stumbled through the dark, past the sweet eucalyptus trees. There were footsteps behind me. A drum beat inside my head. I ran faster. It beat faster. I checked my neck, but the collar was gone.

I was cold. So cold. My clothes were gone. My skin tingled, my hairs stood on end. Was there someone behind me? I faltered.

“Your love will kill your friends, it will be your fault.”

“Listen to your mother, I love you.”

“Love, where are you going?”

Love. The word echoed through the caverns of my mind.

I woke up panting, covered in sweat and conflicted. Pain replaced the emotion ripped from my soul. My eyes stung and my chest ached as I thought about my mother. She’d said she loved me, but it was only a dream. A weird dream. She’d never met me, nor I her.

And Marc’s question. Where was I going? I rolled onto my back and stared at the white, chalky ceiling in Tommy’s room where a pattern was etched into the plaster. I rubbed my eyes and counted corners, waiting for my brain to make sense of the random dream.

Why would I dream that? I must be trying to work out which of my recent experiences I needed to remember and which to forget. Well, hear me now brain—archive it all.

Especially Marc. I didn’t need to remember him like that. I’d bet my bike that he’d pushed the vision into my head when he kissed me. I could still see his smirking face as he left last night. Pffft, a parting gift to remember him, alright. Maybe the first part was my own confused brain, but the second part. Grrr. My fingers tightened around the blanket with the need to strangle a certain cockney god. At least I could be angry with that.

I pulled the blanket up to my chin and felt resistance to my right—Tommy. My mood softened when I saw his sleeping face, all peaceful and lax. He wasn’t having a nightmare now. A small smile curved his lips on one side. So, he’d slept next to me after all.

In a twisted sense of foreboding, I suffered a pang of sadness. He slept with his arms over his chest, crossed as though he lay in a coffin. The cord of his camera was tangled in his fingers and he clutched a small digital music player. He shouldn’t be so close to me.

The front door slammed.

I threw off my covers and tip-toed into the living room to peek out of the front door’s window pane, then ducked. Cash. He hadn’t seen me. I spied some more. He stood in front of the Jeep waxing his surfboard, wearing a full body wetsuit that peeled halfway down to hang at his hips, displaying his naked and tattooed torso. For an eternal, glorious moment, I imagined what it would be like to touch those magnificent abs. Rocks, like Kitty said, or soft and velvety.

From the way he moved, I had the sensation an immense force was barely contained within his skin. Each stroke and slide of his hand as he waxed sent off a chain reaction in the muscles in the rest of his body. It all worked together magnificently, and terrifyingly. I’d hate to be on the other end of his touch if he was angry, but then again, being on the other side when he wanted ... desired. My mouth went dry as my blood reached out for him, ached a little. Maybe we were linked. Somehow. But I knew the type. You didn’t get a hard body—or face—like that without laser sharp focus, and a single minded determination toward a goal. Obsessive repetitive actions driven by a relentless internal need. He’d do whatever he could to achieve it, even if that meant stepping on someone else to get there. He tucked the board under his arm and jogged down the path.

Relief and guilt battled inside me as I came to terms with what I was going to do. Leave.

* * *

Kitty’s apartment was in a boutique complex on the outskirts of town. It was one of many lined up like soldiers with corrugated iron cladding on the front. I parked my bike in her garage, next to her tiny, blue hatchback and rushed across the small span of lawn, ignoring the buzzing from the surrounding nature. I didn’t want to be seen. I just wanted to say goodbye, then go. It was better that way.

The first thing I noticed when Kitty opened the door was her red eyes. The second was the steaming hot coffee in her hands. My stomach roared.

“Babe,” she pouted. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She sniffed, scrunched up her nose and looked me over. “What on earth have you been doing? Is that how they treat prisoners these days?” She gasped, eyes wide. “Did you do a Shawshank escape, is that why you’re so dirty? You shouldn’t have escaped. I was going to get you out properly.”

“No, no, no.” I pushed her through the door, closed it behind me and leaned against the hard wood. The thrum of nature instantly muffled. “I got out yesterday, Cash helped—he’s some sort of witch hunter with diplomatic immunity and rank to pull, or something. I’m dirty because I went for a ride off-road without a helmet. I needed to clear my head.” I glanced down at my outfit and regretted my spontaneous decision to take a dirt track detour into town.

“Oh. Oohh, you mean the sexy American. So he’s a surfing hunter?” She flared her eyes dramatically. “With rank to pull, really?”

“I’d hug you but I’m filthy.”

She pushed the mug into my hands. “Come and sit down, tell me what’s happened. I’ll make another coffee. Do I need to call my lawyer?”

“It’s okay. I think. I’m not being charged as far as I know, but it all happened rather quickly.” Careful not to spill my drink, I sat down on the red leather sofa, hoping I didn’t leave too much dirt, then took a sip and sighed as the warmth melted my insides.

I didn’t know where to begin and stared at the coffee, trying to untangle my thoughts. Her bouncy aura skipped a beat. I glanced up sharply and locked eyes with her as she sat next to me, fresh coffee in her hands. The red around her green eyes stood out vividly. She’d been crying. She looked down and smoothed her blue peddle-pusher pants. Huh, I narrowed my eyes, even weirder—she never wore pants, not even for housework. I frowned. “Are you okay?”

“There’s something I need to tell you.” Her voice shook. Her pink nose was shiny. “I have to go back to the city.”

“What?” My stomach fell to the floor. For the first time, I noticed the packing boxes scattered around the small living room, half full of newspaper-wrapped items. “Why?”

Because you cause nothing but trouble for your friends. She’s better off far, far away from you. They all are. You should’ve kept running. Why did you stop?

Her eyes widened. “You don’t know? New temporary laws have been passed since the treaty was signed. Women aren’t allowed to live alone anymore. They need a male sponsor and, as no men have put up their hands, I’m forced to move back home.” She shrugged and attempted a half smile, then cursed under her breath. “Sponsor is just another word for controlling husband or father, bloody bastards.”

“But you can’t. What about Joe? Surely he won’t let his best barmaid leave?”

“Joe’s got his own family to worry about. It wouldn’t look good for me to move in with him—you know what the ladies at the church say about me already. This whole thing stinks.” She sniffed. She squeezed my shoulder and looked me over. “But how are you? You seemed to have healed all right. I’m sorry about your sister. It really sucks what happened to her. How are you handling it?”

“Thanks, I’m okay, I guess. But, I never really thought of her as my sister that way, so…” My voice trailed off.

“What do mean? Of course she’s your sister.”

“No, that came out wrong.” I took a sip of my coffee and thought of a better way to explain myself. “Do you remember that day at the bar when you found Gus Waterhouse screaming bloody murder at my face? He actually said he was going to kill me. Hog tie me, then roast me on a spit, remember?”

Kitty snickered. “Babe, who could forget that face of his, it was almost purple. I thought he was going to explode, with all that steam coming out of his ears like a kettle!”

She put her mug down, pulled her ears apart and held her breath until her face went red. We broke into fits of laughter. I snorted and coffee went up my nose then almost dropped the mug when she started whistling from her lips.

But then her features darkened, and she frowned. “I didn’t like what he said. What a complete troglodyte—he still is. You know he married Mary Acton?”

“Oh yeah, they deserve each other then,” I said.

Mary was one of Kitty’s church frenemies. She never liked the way Kitty dressed or her outspoken ways but, as they went to the same church, they had to be civil to each other.

“Kitty, he was a troglodyte. But you walked in and tipped a bucket of ice over his head to cool him down.” I sipped my coffee and smiled. “Do you know what the best thing was? You didn’t stop to ask questions, you just acted. You saw a big, angry man swinging his fist around, screaming profanities at me, and you stepped in. As it turned out, I’d accidentally spilled his beer over his lap, remember? And then tried to wipe it up!”

Overwhelmed with laughter, we clutched our stomachs and doubled over in happy pain. Eventually the session settled into snorts and chuckles.

“That’s what a sister should be like, Kitty,” I said quietly. “Someone whose first instinct is to be on your side.”

Leila didn’t mean to hate me, she just did.

“I don’t want to go,” Kitty blurted. “I want to stay here, with you.”

I concentrated on the mug in my hands.

“I was going to leave,” I admitted. “I’ve wanted to ever since I told Aunt Lucy I was moving out. I’m just… tired of dragging people into my mess.”

Kitty gasped. “No! Babe, I gave you that key so you could be closer to people who care about you. It’s bad for all women, not just you. Please don’t leave when you’re needed the most. You’ve got skills, babe. Skills that can make a difference if you trust the right people.”

I nodded and a glimmer of an idea sprang from my subconscious, just like when I was younger. I’d learned to cast hexes from those random ideas and believed it was my instinct speaking to me. Kitty was right, I couldn’t leave town. There was too much to do.

“Maybe I can help with your situation,” I said.

Kitty bit her lip.

“Will you come and visit Alvin with me?” I asked. “I might be able to fix him. If I can, he won’t let you leave, Kitty. You know he won’t.”

“Really?” She let out a rush of air. Her eyes brightened, and she wiped her nose. “That would be amazing. So, where have you been, if not in prison?”

“I stayed with Cash and Tommy last night. I’ll probably stay there tonight too, if they aren’t too pissed off that I—”

“What? All this time I’ve been running around speaking to lawyers and you’ve been having sleepovers with not one, but two beautiful young men?”

A wash of shame nuked my face. I should have called her. “I’m so sorry, Kitty. I didn’t think. My phone is still…”

“At least tell me if you had any fun. He’s a hunter right? Did you play hunt and go peek?” She giggled.

“No sexual innuendo’s please. There’s nothing going on, it’s a professional partnership.” One that I’d just ran away from.

Her lids lowered, and she spoke in a husky voice. “I’ll bet you want him to be in-your-endo.”

“Kitty!” I hit her on the shoulder. That was the Kitty, I knew. Lewd, inappropriate, wise-cracking Kitty. A smile crept onto my face. I was happy here, how could I leave?

“Oh, man,” I said. “I missed you. I have so much to tell you,”

“I missed you too.” She blocked her nose. “But first, babe, you gotta wash.”

I surveyed my filthy legs and arms and could only imagine the state of my face. I couldn’t go to the hospital looking like this.

“Can I borrow some clothes?” I blushed, a little hesitant at the thought of picking an outfit from her revealing wardrobe. But it would be nice to pretend things were normal, for one last time.

Chapter 17

Kitty and I parked beside each other in the hospital car park. My new slick ponytail was a little worse for wear, but still lady-like. Kitty threw a distasteful glance at my head.

“We are going to have to redo that do, when we get to work.” Her eyes lit up. “Maybe Courtney will be in. She can do something amazing.”

“No.” Courtney was lovely, really. I just wanted to save my head from looking like a pineapple. “Never mind, I’ll fix it myself.”

I had no place to store my bike keys in the tight, knee-length black skirt or red corset top, I’d borrowed from Kitty. I eyed off the black, strappy sandals in disdain. They’d be no help either. I dropped them in a pocket of my motorcycle jacket, then folded it over the crook of my arm and followed Kitty to the entrance of the hospital.

We were almost to the front door of the small, brick hospital when Kitty spoke. “Babe, there’s something I forgot to tell you.” She slanted a look at me through her cat’s eye makeup. “We aren’t supposed to be in public without a male escort, so we could be arrested at any moment.”

I stopped a meter short of the sliding doors. “What do you mean?”

She squinted at me. “Shouldn’t your sponsor, Mr. Devilish, have told you about that?”

I shrugged. “We were kind of busy.”

“Oh, I see… busy. So that’s what the kids are calling it these days.” She dodged my attempt to punch her in shoulder. “I thought he was your sponsor. Isn’t he supposed to tell you these things?”

“I dunno.” I chewed my lip. “I’m kind of in his custody at the moment, if that means the same thing. And I kind of left without telling him.”

You can’t trust a man who lies to his brother.

Shut up. I lied to my sister. I never told her about my abilities.

And look where that got her.

I swatted the words away and had a sinking feeling that talking to myself might not be the best sign of sanity.

“Anyway, it’s just another stupid law. I’m doing my best to ignore it,” Kitty said. “But we’ll see how that goes.”

We were about to cross the threshold when she held me back.

“Wait,” she said, her expression grave. “We have to hop through the doorway on one foot, otherwise it’s bad luck.”

I laughed. “Who told you that?”

“Alvin.”

“I hate to tell you this, but I’m pretty sure he’s pulling your leg.”

“But it’s like black cats and sneezing three times, and traffic lights.”

“Traffic lights?”

“Yeah, if you go through an amber light you have to lift up your feet and touch the roof.” She looked at me with such earnest and unwavering eyes that I couldn’t bring myself to burst her bubble. Alvin was the biggest joker in the world. I groaned. “C’mon, let’s go.”

We stopped at the front desk and I asked about Leila first and then Alvin. We received directions to their rooms. I sent Kitty ahead to Alvin as I wanted to visit Leila in private. She was quarantined in a section of the hospital reserved for witches—a makeshift room past the staff cafeteria and near the rubbish at the back of the hospital.

The room was a cell—no chair for visitors, no flowers and no window. It smelled like old disinfectant. I peeled back the clear, plastic curtain. A tube ran into Leila’s nose and she sucked in short, shallow breaths. A tinge of yellow painted her skin and her flat, grimy hair lay in clumps on her pillow. How long since someone had checked on her? Guilt consumed me and my eyes burned.

This was my sister.

If I were lying there, who would fight for me?

My fingers stroked her smooth skin. We’d been so mean to each other. Why? I pinched my eyes with my thumb and fingers and, for a moment, I believed in a happy ending. She would wake up and we would start again. But my senses told me there was little left—no soul, and no buzzing afterglow, just a sliver of energy generated from the body. The girl was gone.

I listened to her short gasps. The sound recalled my own gulps for air after I almost drowned during my trial. The Inquisitor had decided to test the ancient theory that witches would float and women would sink. He’d put me in a tank. If I came up for air before the three minute mark, I was a witch. If I didn’t, I would drown. Absurd. My only hope was to try to hold my breath for that long. His sidekick held me down, his fingers digging into my skull, while my father watched from the sidelines—silent. I struggled at first but, after two minutes, a calm settled over me and I was still. My mind drifted until, suddenly, I was pulled out of the tank and sucked in great gulps of air. I’d almost given up that day because my father hadn’t fought for me.

I blinked away the memory and my despair was replaced with rock-hard resolve. Everyone needed someone to fight for them and I would fight for Leila. Stopping Petra would be a good start.

I fussed and tidied, straightened the sheets, then smoothed Leila’s hair and tucked it behind her ears. She’d had so many battles. Her life had been filled with psychiatrists, nightmares and sleepless nights. My father hadn’t fought for me, but I would fight for her. I would help Cash get Petra.

But first, there was someone else who needed my help—Alvin.

* * *

As I approached the corner to Alvin’s room, I heard voices in the hallway. I stopped, sensing four unknown energy signatures. I flattened my already tight clothes and plowed around the corner. Two sets of hate-filled eyes focussed on me. I took a step back and reached behind me for someone—anyone—but was alone.

Two middle-aged couples stood between me and Alvin’s room. I recognized one of them as Steve’s parents—Meerkat Maggie and Captain Redneck.

My secret nicknames for them were juvenile, but during the trial they had slain me each time they interrupted with accusations. “You bewitched him,” they’d said. “He never loved you.” And my favorite, “Nobody loves you, just ask your sister.”

They had been the inciting force in my prosecution and had rallied the public to stand behind their cause. They’d posted anti-witch propaganda online and splashed my face across it and also arranged hate-filled demonstrations. I was the detested and feared subject of public scrutiny and my old friends from high school deserted me. On top of that, my father dumped us on Aunt Lucy and conveniently disappeared.

I snapped back from the past and scrutinized my ex’s parents as they whispered ferociously to the other couple.

What would Prince do? I thought.

Prince would take his lion from his pocket and get ready to Roar, with a capital R, that’s what he’d do. My fingers curled around my folded jacket and I hustled toward Alvin’s room.

Meerkat Maggie and Captain Redneck rushed away at my speedy approach. Huh, that was easy. I focused my bravado on the remaining couple. Alvin’s parents, I assumed.

It occurred to me that I didn’t even know Alvin’s last name and felt my mouth go dry. How could I call myself a close friend?

I shifted my jacket to one hand and stiffly stuck out the other. “Hi, I’m Roo. I’m friends with your son.”

I stood with my arm outstretched, waiting for one of them to reach out and meet me. Neither did. I let my hand fall to my side and patted my pocket, thinking of my lion. He was still in there, pacing, alert but not alarmed.

They looked like country people. Alvin’s stocky mother had blonde freckles to match her short blonde hair. His father was the same height as his wife, dark-skinned and weathered, like he’d been working outdoors his entire life. Alvin inherited his Asian features from his dad.

Alvin’s father placed an arm on his wife’s shoulder. Their stares didn’t waver. “We know who you are and we don’t think you should be here considering you’re the cause of all this.”

My heart sank and then tumbled right past my lion’s den. It surprised me to hear the words, but he was right. I hated to think I was the cause of all this pain.

“Mr and Mrs—” I paused expectantly.

“O’Connor,” the mother replied. She seemed surprised at her response and quickly narrowed her eyes, turning them to slits.

I scanned the doorway to Alvin’s room and could see a bumpy white blanket on the end of a bed. His aura felt weak and small, like an emergency beacon blinking in a stormy ocean. There was no time to waste. My lion swatted my heart back into my chest where it beat strong and steady.

“Mr. and Mrs. O’Connor, I am so sorry that your son was caught up in all this. I’m the one the witch was targeting, and I’d like to make this right. Could I visit him for a moment?”

“No.” Mr. O’Connor’s veins bulged in his neck and he clenched his fists and opened them. “You can’t come here and expect to see my son after what you’ve done.”

Kitty stepped out of Alvin’s room, her eyes darting from me to Alvin’s parents. “Mr. and Mrs. O’Connor, Alvin has requested you bring that thing he wanted so dearly.” Kitty walked to the couple with such confidence that they immediately obeyed. “Please, we haven’t time to waste. Let’s talk privately.” She placed an arm around each of them and steered them down the corridor.

I said a silent thank you to my friend’s back and stepped into the room. My stomach rolled. Alvin’s sallow eyes had sunk deeply, his chocolate colored skin looked gray. His head lay at an awkward angle, and tubes stuck into his arms and climbed over his face like an invading vine. The room was thick with that sweet but sour smell associated with sickness, wasting and death.

Chapter 18

“What has she done to you?” I hurried to Alvin’s bedside and gently touched his unshaven jaw.

It was crazy—his body struggling to breathe, to send blood flowing to his skin, but wasting valuable energy on growing his sharp, black stubble. Petra said she’d given him cancer. If only he could redirect his energy to what mattered most—fighting the disease and healing his body. It just didn’t make sense. I pulled my hand away.

“I’m so sorry Alvin.”

“Hi, Roo,” he croaked, eyes flickering open. He grabbed my hand and pulled it back to his face, leaning into the touch. He averted his gaze. “It’s all my fault, Roo. I should’ve known something was up. I mean why would your sister want to kiss me?”

I flinched. “She kissed you?”

“I didn’t know she was a witch. I just thought it was my lucky day.” He dropped my hand and looked away, chin trembling and dark eyes glassy. He made a weak effort to pull his blankets up, but it only reached his collarbone. “Talk about girl germs and cooties, I’m never going to kiss a girl again.”

“What did the doc say?” I pulled up a chair and let my hand rest lightly on his blanket.

He studied the ceiling and started to say something but coughed—a wet racking sort of cough. When he stopped, his watery eyes fluttered closed, and he draped his arm over his face. His voice was muffled when he said, “They don’t know what she did to me. I just keep bleeding internally. It’s like an aggressively advanced stage of everything cancer.” He looked at me from under his arm, eyes flat. “I don’t know how long I’m going to last, Roo.”

I picked at the cotton blanket. The hex should have stopped after I’d done what Petra asked. I’d gone outside. That was the fail-safe Cash had mentioned. When I looked up, Alvin had closed his eyes and breathed heavily—asleep.

Irritation prickled through my body. I needed answers. My touch healed Cash when he’d fitted, but it couldn’t heal my friend. Was it tied to the specifics of the damn hex, or something one Nephilim could only do to another?

Or something that links Cash and I?

“I thought hexes expired,” I muttered. “He should be getting better.”

Despite my unsettled thoughts, my impatience suddenly ebbed away in a wash of calm that didn’t seem to originate from me.

“Not if he’s cursed,” a velvety female voice said quietly behind me. “Then it’s pretty much never-ending. Witchcraft is unpredictable, so when a witch alters the victim’s DNA by mixing in her own, like a virus or disease, the body can then reject or mutate it.”

I whirled around and caught the steely gaze of a brunette nurse, knowing instantly she was a witch. The calming wave emanated from her aura didn’t feel natural. It felt forced. My irritation grew. I hated not knowing what these feelings meant. Learning sucked. Why couldn’t I just get to the being-awesome-at-it stage?

I refocused my attention on the woman pacing around me, trying to figure out why my instinct told me she was a witch, but my emotions eased with her every step. Vibrations came from her—a double frequency. The first was from the tiny aura of the original host, the second belonged to the being that piloted it. Her mismatched aura worked hard at soothing my frustration and distracting me. Her frazzled short brown hair and stained clothes showed that she worked hard caring for other people. I sniffed hoping to catch a whiff of a telltale, smelly sign to confirm my suspicion, but only caught the odor of anti-bacterial hand wash. Wait. There it was, something faint and acrid underneath. It was so light it could be mistaken for anything—vomit, spilled chemicals—anything.

As she read Alvin’s medical chart, my body tensed. I looked down and found crescent shaped fingernail dents in the yellow leather of my jacket. I sat on my hands and, despite the forced calm, returned my suspicious gaze to the nurse.

“Hello, Mr. O’Connor. How are we feeling today?” She looked physically drained, but the alleged witch was cheerfully optimistic as she expertly checked the oxygen machine and wrote down the results.

“Oh you know, the same,” Alvin said, lashes lifting marginally. From his comfortable demeanor, she’d been nursing him for a while. She pulled him forward, listened to his heart and took his blood pressure. The physical exertion knocked him out, and he nodded off again.

She wasn’t Petra. This witch’s energy felt lighter, calmer and full of kindness. There were no reaching black tentacles in her aura. There was no blackness at all.

“Who are you?” I whispered loudly. Her brow twitched, but she didn’t answer. I stood up—a full head taller than the witch. I looked down at her and hoped the hatred boring from my eyes was understood. “You need to leave before I call the hunter,” I bluffed. I had no way to contact him but it was worth a shot.

She swapped the depleted IV fluid bag with a fresh one, humming gently to a song I couldn’t place. When she was done, she turned to me.

“You can call me Sabina.” She picked up the empty bag and put it in the waste. “We aren’t all like Petra. If you give me a minute, I might be able to help you save your friend.”

I examined her face and aura, looking for inconsistencies, sudden spikes in frequency I’d learned were indicative of a lie—but she seemed sincere. “I’m listening. You have two minutes.”

“I know who and what you are, Ms. Urser. Some of us want to move out of the dark ages and into the future and we think you’re the link. In the past, only the fittest witches survived, but at a cost to their humanity. Now we believe we can work together, in harmony with humans, a symbiotic relationship. Perhaps we can regain some of that humanity which was taken from us.” She looked into my eyes, and I was confronted with something I never thought I’d see in a witch—compassion. “I tried to help your friend but Petra is strong, her curse runs deep. Unless you find her Grimoire, you will be fishing for answers in a never-ending sea of possibilities.”

“What’s a Grimoire?”

Sabina blinked at me as if I should know what she was talking about. “A Book of Shadows,” she said. “It’s where she keeps her magic secrets and spells, a how-to guide. I’ve heard Petra’s is a real doozy.”

“Why does she need a magic spell book?” I scoffed, but secretly, my ears had pricked up when she said book. Wasn’t Cash after a book?

“Not all human brains know the same signals to send to the body. Some people have better eyesight, others are immune to certain viruses, and don’t get me started on animals. Over time, one can gather the secrets hidden in all sorts of bodies. Magic is a word people use when they don’t understand the result or the process, it depends on your perspective. My sources say you cast spells like a witch, but you live in the same body you were born with. To me, that is unheard of—it’s magic—and a secret Petra would kill to add to her book.”

“That’s not all I can do.” Menace dripped from my words intended as a warning.

“Oh, I know, dear. Not only are you a witch, but Nephilim too. That is why I believe you can save your friend when I cannot. You can feel the life-force that every living being emanates and you can absorb a witch’s power. That much is clear from your range of capabilities. I think it’s safe to assume you can absorb life-forces as well, if you put your will to it.”

I bolted from my seat. How did she know about me, and, was that even possible? I narrowed my eyes. She’d said sources… Who knew about my sixth sense?

“How do you know what I can or cannot do?”

“I knew you would come to see your friend.” She fussed with the corners of the bed. “I’ve been watching you for a while. I know what Petra has done to you but, more importantly, I can teach you how to use your abilities so she can’t hurt you. I was a carer in my original life and it’s what I do. Like I said, it’s important to me to prove that all witches aren’t the same.”

“But, I don’t want to absorb Alvin’s life-force. It will kill him.”

“No, you misunderstand me. You can absorb from your surroundings and use it to power your healing hex.” She walked to the door of the hospital room and touched the handle. “When I open this, I want you to start your hex. The open door will give you access to life energies beyond this room. I will make sure nobody interrupts.”

She looked back at me and her aura was so gentle, I almost believed she was human.

“But I don’t know how to do a healing hex. I’ve only done little things, changed my friend’s hair color, paint my fingernails. That’s a bit different from curing cancer.” Adrenaline spiked through my body. I wasn’t ready for this. My mind scrambled to remember anything else I’d ever influenced. There were the rippling shapes in the water when I was little, but that was so, so different. This was life. I touched my lips remembering their unwanted color change. “What if I break him?”

“You won’t. A kiss is the quickest, surest way to transfer a hex. So when you kiss him, cast your energy into his and direct it to heal and replenish what has been lost. The body remembers what it once had. Focus on what you know to be wrong and direct it to be right. You can use some of my energy if you need to, but I’m sure you’ll find it easy since you’ve done it before.” Her energy soothed me and her eyes softened when she saw my pain and confusion. “The energy must call to you. Think of the moment you first felt it. Did it want to be touched? A witch can extend the energy of her own soul to manipulate the world around her, but you should be able to go one step further and use the energy of others as your own. Take only what you need and remember, you are in control.”

I did remember the first time. It was at The Cauldron when the collar had come off. The world felt like it pushed in on me. It was more than wanting to be touched, it forced itself on me. It had been insistent at the start then… I frowned, thinking of my explosion of nothing over Tommy. I couldn’t control it and Tommy hadn’t been hurt. Could I pull that energy in again without the risk of it consuming me?

“All I ask is that you remember my name and that we aren’t all bad.” She smiled, and I wanted to believe her. I wanted to trust her. She moved to open the door.

My stomach twisted as I perched on the bed. I essentially had to wing it. The stale smell of Alvin’s breath hit me and I almost changed my mind, but the thought of never seeing his goofy grin again put me back on course. I leaned in, angling my mouth under the tubes in his nose and hesitated.

He groaned and rolled his head to the side.

It was time. I grabbed his face, closed my eyes and planted a wet kiss on his mouth while thinking healthy, happy thoughts and trying to ignore the scratchy stubble and sickly taste. I opened my senses to feel the energy signatures buzzing all along the corridor. I had a moment of uncertainty, not sure I had a right to siphon off someone’s life-force without their permission. But I pushed away the self-doubt. There was no telling what dark thoughts could do in the middle of a hex. I would count to ten.

At two, I used my tongue to open his lips and felt around the inside of his mouth. The success of the hex depended on mixing my DNA with his. That meant the sloppiest, wettest kiss I could muster. With difficulty, I ignored the need for mouthwash.

At five, I relaxed and focused on Alvin’s energy, urging it to be strong and giving it purpose. I drew on any life-force in the area. My strategy was to grab a little from many, lessening the effect on each. I took a trickle here and a sliver there, praying I didn’t take any from someone who needed it to live. We were in a hospital after all.

At seven, I spoke silently to Alvin. “Fix your body, be the best version you can be.”

At eight, I realized he kissed me back.

I sat back so suddenly my head rocked. The little bugger was grinning from ear to ear. His skin was flushed with rosy goodness. I rubbed my neck and frowned.

“I don’t get it,” Alvin said. “You never wanted to go out with me, and then you go ahead and give me the best goodbye kiss in the world. I don’t get it.” He scratched his stubble. “It was a bit sloppy but I wouldn’t say no to another. I officially take back my no-girl cooties policy.”

I stifled a groan. He had the wrong idea.

But then… Warmth bloomed inside me and spread to my toes when I realized Alvin’s eyes had cleared up. They were no longer cloudy and flat, but crisply focused and a rich brown, the whites were white, not yellow. My entire body lightened, and I hugged him tight. So far so good.

I pulled back, but he grabbed my shoulder and sat up. “What was that all about? C’mon, I’m sick, not stupid.”

“I thought you were very ill and it may have been my last chance.” I cleared my throat and stood up. I waved my hands dramatically over his body. “Obviously, you just pretended to pass out. Must be another of your badly timed jokes because you look totally fine to me.”

He frowned and patted down his body. “Now that you mention it, I do feel better. I think your visit has done me the world of good, but”—he coughed a few times and pounded his chest as though weak—“I still have a long way to go. Maybe another one of those will help.” He pointed to his pouting lips.

Kitty entered the room looking flustered. “Some guy just fainted in the hallway, I think it’s time for us to go.”

Then she caught sight of Alvin and rushed over to him, showering kisses on his face. When she pulled away, little red smudges covered his skin, but he didn’t seem to mind. The look he gave her was pure love.

The commotion in the hall grew louder. I didn’t want to be seen here when Alvin’s miracle was noticed.

“Time to go, Kitty. See you later Alvin. I’ll call next time so I’m not offending any of your visitors.” I patted him in on the shoulder in a sisterly way, grabbed my jacket and made to move.

“Please, anytime. I feel like I should be giving you the key to my house or something after that display.”

Kitty’s brows shot up. I gave her a look and stepped into the hall. I heard Alvin ask her to send someone in with steak and fries on her way out. The hex had worked. I could feel it in my gut. I covered my mouth to hide the smile.

“He’s okay,” Kitty said as she joined me. “Whatever you did, it worked.”

I nodded. Sabina had been right. I wanted to thank her and find out more, but we had to leave. Medical staff rushed about seeing to patients who had suddenly fainted or taken ill. My actions had obviously created some waves.

With Kitty close behind, I hurried out of the building, trying to forget the look from a man slouched on the floor. He had held an oxygen mask to his face as he stared at me with leaking eyes.

Chapter 19

I breathed in the late afternoon air hoping to get a little rejuvenation from my recent healing stint. The hex had sapped my energy. I chewed my nails and stewed over my actions. I’d been worried I wouldn’t be able to control the borrowed energy, but I had. What I hadn’t planned on was the guilt that pestered my conscience like a fly. Had I been right to hurt a number of innocents to save one?

When my concentration drew back to the hospital parking lot, I noticed a small crowd of people standing beside a car. Two of the silhouettes looked familiar—Steve’s parents. When I looked their way, they ducked their heads and disappeared into the vehicle with the rest of their motley crew.

I shrugged off the scrutiny and concentrated on my ticket out of there—my bike. But when I spotted it, I felt like dropping to my knees. The shiny black paint was riddled with red graffiti that said: “Die witch.”

Tires screeched on the bitumen behind me and I smelled rubber. The faces who had stared at me a moment ago, drove past yelling obscenities and waving fists. Yep, Meerkat Maggie’s white face floated like a ghost through the back tinted window. Someone threw an empty can of soda at us and it clanked to the ground. Of course. Could my day get any worse?

Kitty picked it up and expertly raced after the car in her heels. “Hey!” she yelled and threw the can, missing the car by inches as it revved out of the lot.

Blood pounded in my ears, my vision blurred and I felt like the sun had gone behind a cloud. I dropped my jacket and crouched to steady myself, blinking through tears. It was all too much—their hatred, my guilt, and now this. They had defiled my baby, my hard earned pride and joy. I heard the crunch of steps behind me as Kitty returned but I couldn’t tear my eyes from the damage. I ran my fingers over the wet surface. My trembling fingers came away red, like I’d dipped them in blood.

“I’m sorry, Roo. Maybe if we hurry, we can wash it off when we get to work.” Kitty didn’t sound convinced.

Vaguely, I registered the sound of more tires crunching closer but I was lost, riffling through the back drawers of my mind, looking for a solution. Over and over, I tried desperately to come up with something that made the sight in front of me not real.

Remember the water? Remember how I showed you how to make it ripple?

The voice in my head stirred memories that flashed across my vision. I kept returning to that one event that turning point in my life. I saw my childish, stubby fingers in puddles of water, watching the ripples become stars, hearts, squares. Then I thought about Petra sticking me to the wall of The Cauldron, and what Sabina said about a witch extending her life-force to move things. It was all coming together.

That’s right. If she can do it, so can you.

My thoughts weren’t my own. It was as if someone spoke to me from deep inside my messed-up mind. I pushed the notion away, vaguely excusing my insanity as self-diagnosed post traumatic stress.

I wouldn’t leave the symbol of my independence scarred and blemished, alone in the barren carpark of a public hospital. My lips curled into a grimace, then a snarl. Those people had taken enough from me, they would not take my freedom.

I closed my eyes and grew still, gathering bits of data and crafting a formula to solve my problem. I leaned in. The paint fumes singed my nose, but I focused on the red shiny bubbles. I traced the words with my fingers following the bumps and grooves of metal, warmed in the afternoon sun. I stroked the dirt bike’s body as if it were a baby.

Voices in the background interrupted my concentration. Kitty was talking to someone in a hushed voice.

I ignored them.

“Shhh.” I adjusted my footing and rested my head against the surface of the bike so I could look down the length of its body. My eyes fluttered, my vision focused. Calm settled over my body and I centered myself. “Nobody puts baby in the corner,” I murmured.

There was a choking sound behind me as someone tried not to laugh.

“What are you doing, Roo?” Tommy asked.

“Shhh,” I hissed again and stroked the graffiti. Warmth radiated from my fingertips, hotter than the sun-heated metal. I let my energy extend from my fingers, slide beneath the tacky surface and act like a spatula. The paint peeled as my fingers swept under the words, and a chorus of gasps broke out behind me.

The graffiti separated from the bike and I let it hang, suspended mid air as I narrowed my eyes at its unwavering redness. A bitter taste entered my mouth, a snarl moved up from my stomach and out my throat. I dropped the vile matter, and it fell soundlessly to the ground. My bike looked as good as new, well almost. A bit of buffing and shining and I’d have my baby back. I stood to face my spectators.

Tommy and Cash stood behind Kitty. They didn’t look too happy with me. Tommy was pale and Cash grimaced beneath his aviator glasses, his tattooed arms crossed. His silence screamed at me. I knew I shouldn’t have done that in public.

Oh, shit. I’d just done something witchy in front of Tommy. He lifted his blue baseball cap, scratched his head, and put it on backwards.

“Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit.” He glanced around the lot. He took a step towards me and reached to grab my arm. “I reckon you should have waited until we got home to do that, Roo. Let’s motor before someone sees us and calls the police.”

“We need to talk.” Cash cleared his throat and jerked his head to the waiting Jeep. “Tommy, wait for me in the car. Kitty, if you don’t mind, I need to speak with my charge, unless she wants to wind up behind bars again.”

“Babe, I’ll meet you back at work okay?” Kitty spoke to me but her soft features hardened when she took in Cash’s stern expression. “Call me if you need me okay?”

She climbed in her car and pulled away with a regal wave.

I palmed my forehead, staring into space. What could I say? Cash was right, whatever he was going to say, he’d be right. I was in his custody and I’d left without a word, then exercised my abilities in public. I glanced at Tommy. He wiped his palms down his gray t-shirt and let them run onto his denim shorts. Surely after seeing with his own eyes what I could do, he’d be afraid of me. But it wasn’t me he grimaced at, it was Cash.

Cash waited for his brother to grumble his way back to the Jeep and then turned on me. He ripped off his mirrored glasses to reveal the blue and brown fury in his eyes. His jaw tightened. I couldn’t stand the silence.

“How did you know where I was?” I asked.

“I put a tracer on your bike.” His words were short and clipped. “I would’ve come earlier, but I was busy. I’ve left a message with the staff at the Urser Estate Cellar Door to expect you at some point during the festival. If she’s not already watching you, word will get to Petra, so if she’s serious about getting to you, she’ll come.” His voice was icy. “You were supposed to stay at the house.”

“Sorry.”

“Tommy was a mess and—what are you wearing?” His gaze ran down my outfit and he lost some of the tension in his stance. He scrubbed the back of his neck. “That’s not really appropriate for riding a bike, don’t you think?”

“I had to borrow from Kitty, I’d left suddenly and…” I had intended to runaway. “I’m sorry I left without saying anything.”

He paused for a moment, then nodded. “You need to make a decision about the mentor ritual—your father, or me. Marc has declared you a contender, and it’s already been twenty-four hours. If you haven’t chosen by tomorrow, the decision will be taken from you.”

I sighed. This business again. “Can’t I just not do it? My father’s gone walkabout and unless he’s caught wind of everything, I’m not expecting him to turn up. No offense to you, Cash, but we just met. It sounds like a big responsibility for a stranger. Besides, I don’t even know what the process involves. Are there contracts or something?”

He glanced at the Jeep. “That’s why we need to talk. Privately.”

“Can we do it at The Cauldron? I have to get to work.”

“There’s something else you should know.” He pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me. “There are a few more restrictions in place. We don’t have time for you to work at The Cauldron; there’s too much prep to be done.”

“But, I have to work!”

“I don’t think so. I can’t trust you to stay put when I say so. Why would I be lenient about this?”

“I’m sorry, okay? I promise I’ll listen, and… I’ll do the ritual thingy. We can do it tonight. I just… I thought I wanted to leave, but I don’t okay? It’s better I stay here, with friends.”

“You were leaving?” He gave me a concerned sidelong glance, then flashed a look skywards. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. Fine, you can work but tonight’s the last time I cave to your demands. After this we do it my way.”

“Thank you.” I scanned the contents of the letter to hide my smile of triumph, but it didn’t last. “Holy crap. This treaty has taken us back to the dark ages.”

My knees weakened, and I braced myself on the seat of my bike. I stared at my baby longingly. I wouldn’t be riding her much longer.

“I can’t go anywhere in public without a man to hold my hand,” I said under my breath. Seeing the truth in black and white made it real.

“You don’t have to hold hands; you just need an escort.” He stood close, leaning in to review the letter. He smelled like sun-dried linen and rain in the springtime. He pointed. “See? ‘No woman can be seen in public alone without the escort of her sponsored male.’ Nothing about hand holding.”

He held up a black rubber band. “This is a GPS tracker. Women are required to wear it at all times.”

“What?” The notion floored me. I finally understood why Kitty had been so devastated. If Alvin didn’t get better, she’d be shipped to the city and tracked like an animal. Then again, Cash had already tracked me.

“Sit.” Cash pointed to my bike. He didn’t sound enthused. “We’ll put this on before we leave. I was hoping to stake out your aunt’s house tonight, but I guess I’ll be watching you work instead.”

“Can’t Tommy do it?” I asked. “Watch me at the bar I mean?”

“Tommy is not your sponsor.”

I hitched my skirt and straddled the bike, resting the paper on my handlebars. I held out one strappy sandal in Cash’s direction. “It says here that females aren’t allowed to drive.”

“Humph.”

I pointed to another law. “And look, a woman can’t hold a job without her father’s, husband’s or male guardian’s permission. This is crazy.”

He ignored me, knelt, took off my shoe and slipped the rubber band onto my ankle. It snapped back to its original shape.

“And we can’t buy alcohol. What the hell does that have to do with being a witch?”

He squeezed the band and blue, flashing lights circled the rubber. He then replaced my shoe and, with a hand on my knee, spoke quietly. “I know it’s been a lot for you to take in, but even though you and I are not ordinary, we still live in this world, we need to abide by its rules. It’s part of the whole appeal of the Game… apparently it makes it more stimulating or some shit. Look, you fuck up, you lose. Whether it’s the Gamekeeper or someone else who takes you out, you lose. You go back to the Empire worse off than before. You don’t want that do you?”

I didn’t answer. I was too busy focusing on how his fingers felt warm, hot even. He picked up my discarded jacket and used my knee to lever himself up. When he let go, I was almost disappointed.

The skin pinched around his eyes when he looked at me. “If you ever disappear again, I’m taking you straight to jail and I’ll leave you there to rot. This will be your last night working at The Cauldron and your last few days in this town. I’d close off all ties tonight if I were you.” He flicked a look at my outfit. “And here”—he handed me the yellow jacket—“put that on. What you’re wearing is unsafe for that mode of transport.”

He turned towards the Jeep and looked over his shoulder at me. “Because you’ll have to get rid of your bike soon, I’ll let you have one last ride. We’ll follow you to work.”

Chapter 20

Despite the new protocols and laws, the bar filled quickly, and I lost myself in the duties of a barmaid. The floor had been scrubbed with bleach so evidence of the recent traumatic events had vanished. The resilience of the human race astounded me. No matter how bad a tragedy, we always bounced back.

Maybe the crowd was there for a last hurrah and a farewell to the freedom of woman, or maybe it was curiosity about the state of political affairs and what it meant to our little, coastal town. It was certainly my last hurrah. Every menial task held a special meaning, from cleaning the beer-slop tray to restocking the fridge. I knew it was the last time I’d be doing any of it, but my melancholy was laced with nerves. What would my future entail? In the end, it became so busy that I had no time to worry. Even Joe jumped on the bar, took orders for meals and ran them out when ready.

I felt alive.

The excitement literally buzzed off patrons as they walked in the door. The frequency of their energy rose and fell as they spoke to me making the true meaning behind their words apparent. Spikes in their aura meant they lied, calm vibrating waves meant they didn’t. I was a human lie detector and, since it was my last night, I threw in a little extra show to help Joe keep his business on the popular side. Hopefully, word would get around and he’d have a level of mystery shrouding his establishment well after I was gone. I was a veritable polygraph machine and loved it. It was the first time in my life I felt free to be myself.

Towards the end of the night, I was having so much fun, I barely noticed the music start. I spotted Tommy bopping around with a couple of age-appropriate bimbos and looked for his brother. He seemed rather bored on the sidelines with a beer in one hand and a cute blonde on the other. She kept combing her hands through his short hair, giving him a porcupine effect. His attention focused on an undetermined spot in the distance.

“Tsk tsk. Just look at that tart with her hands all over him. Can’t she see she’s embarrassing herself?” Kitty pulled out her compact from under the bar and inspected her face.

“Huh?” I pretended to not hear her, then thanked my last customer, glad for a short reprieve. People filed onto the dance floor and their energy swelled and pulsed with the music. I had a sudden pang of jealousy and wished I wasn’t stuck behind the bar. I felt the pull of the rhythm in my bones, vibrating and tingling my insides. It didn’t help to see the touching and feeling going on between loved-up couples. I longed to be in there, to be one of them.

I missed touching.

Despite how it ended with Steve, we’d had some good times and feeling nostalgic, I missed him too. But he’d morphed into a stalker so suddenly after we took our relationship to the next level that the emotion was short lived. The memory coaxed a frown from me. Sabina had said a hex could be transferred through blood, saliva or other bodily fluid. Did I think the wrong things when Steve and I’d made love? Did he become obsessed with me because I inadvertently cast a hex? I shivered at what that thought said for my future love life and shelved a glass beneath the bench.

Kitty placed a glass beside mine. “What happened at the hospital after I left?”

“This is my last night. I haven’t told Joe yet, but I don’t have control of my own fate anymore, seems like Cash does, unless I’m willing to let my father, or some random back into my life.”

“He’s making you move back to the US with him? I knew it! Wow—I so knew it. He must really like you, babe.”

“No it’s not like that; I’m not moving to the US. It’s to do with his work, he travels a lot and...” How could I explain Cash’s sudden interest in me?

“Babe, I got news for you. When a guy makes a commitment like that, it’s not for work. Well, he doesn’t seem so bad, hey? Better than a stranger, or a police officer. Life’s short, even shorter for women these days.” She waved her GPS adorned leg at me. “Babe, you gotta take your wins when you can.” She paused and touched my hair. “Well, apart from the frizz, the red suits you.

“It was an accident though.”

“Well, make more happy accidents. There are no mistakes in life, just regrets. It’ll all work out.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Girl, I’m always right, when will you get that?”

We laughed, and I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. I needed to laugh—it felt good. That was until I noticed Tommy swaggering to the bar with eyes puffed into alcohol-induced slits. Cash looked rather the same. I guessed I’d be driving home and leaving my bike alone to fend for herself.

“Howdy there, Miss. Kitty Muse.” Tommy flushed and averted his eyes as Kitty leaned over the bar with a smile, half exposing her ample goods.

“Please, call me Kitty.” She pouted and took the empty glass from his hand. She winked at me as she turned her back on him to grab a fresh glass. “So, tell me Tommy, is Cash dating someone back home?”

Tommy snorted and rolled his eyes. “Cash don’t date, Miss. Kitty, he has relations.”

“And what, pray tell, does that mean?” Kitty asked.

“Well, you know… the rumpy pumpy.”

“I know what it means. What I meant was, does he have commitment issues? Why is he not married? Is he an ax murderer or something?”

“Gee, Miss. Kitty. That boy has more problems than a math book, let alone commitment issues. But he ain’t no ax murderer, I can assure you of that. He’s got his righteous stick so far up his—” Tommy flashed his eyes at me and stopped. He placed his hat on the bench and apologized for his unkind words.

“You sure you want another drink?” I asked him and took the glass out of Kitty’s hands.

He hiccupped and squinted. “Maybe not.”

“Why don’t you go dance it off.” I grinned at him and his ears turned red. He leaned his elbows on the bench, slipped to the side and knocked his hat off. When he’d recovered it, he dropped his chin in his hands and gazed at me. “You’re so pretty Roo, I could look at your smile all day.”

“Oh dear, you’ve definitely had too much to drink. You sure you didn’t have one of those potions?” I joked, pointing to the cocktail list.

“You know we slept together last night,” he said to Kitty. “I got proof. You wanna see?”

My jaw dropped. It was my turn to blush.

Kitty fiddled with the sound system, preparing for her show, then sashayed over. She rested her hip on the bench top then ruffled his hair. “Aww you’re so cute Tommy. I could just squeeze your little school boy cheeks.”

“I ain’t no school boy.” His eyes darted to me and he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“I know.” I shooed him back to the dance floor.

Joe popped his balding head through the kitchen door. “Kitchen’s closed. Kitty-Kat, you ready to get on stage?”

She nodded and smoothed her black-collared shirt. “Got something special for tonight, babe. I’ve been working on this one for weeks and my girls are dying to get out of this horrid top.” She squished her breasts together and pushed open the kitchen door with her butt, smirking as she left.

I turned back to the bar to find the last person I expected to see.

“Hi, Roo.” Jed smiled sheepishly. He wore a maroon shirt and jeans. He straightened his collar like it was too tight.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, considering you arrested me a few days ago.”

“Yeah about that… look, I’m real sorry for everything. I didn’t believe a word of it but had to do my job. You understand don’t you?”

I nodded. I could sense that he was telling the truth. It hurt, but I understood where he was coming from. “So, why are you here?”

“I’m off duty and, despite what you think, I don’t have it out for you, quite the opposite. I guess I just wanted to come and see what it’s all about.” He eyed my outfit hesitantly. “And to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m okay. Thanks for asking. You’ll probably be disappointed, though. No real witches here tonight.”

“Oh? How can you tell?”

“The hunter is here, and he would have said something.”

“That’s right, your new guardian.” Jed’s gaze swept the room. He licked his lips and leaned in. “There’s something I have to tell you. The Inquisitor has been stirring the pot at the station. He’s got some officers worked up about your release and he’s cooking up something with the local PAW group.”

“People-Against-Witches? They’re all talk and no bite.”

“They’re more than that. He’s been holding meetings and discussing alternative methods for this witch hunt—even though he’s not sanctioned to be on it.” He nodded to one of our house beer taps. “I’ll have a pint of that one, thanks.”

“What’s an alternative method?” I pulled a glass from the drying rack and poured his beer, the smell of malt and yeast sprang free. The head bubbled up and overflowed and I shut the tap off hastily. Unease grew deep inside me, spreading from my gut to my arms and down to my fingers, heating the tips. I waited for Jed’s answer, hands cupping the glass, trembling.

“He wants to burn them all,” he croaked. “I’m telling you this because I don’t agree with it, but for now, he’s sort of the superior. We’re in an in-between stage. There’s a special task-force being assembled to handle the liaison with witches—people from the Center for Disease Control and Prevention this time—so his position will be redundant. That’s why he’s doing this now; the Church’s status will be revoked from law enforcement. They were the ones who suggested burning all those women and now… well, you know, it didn’t work.”

“Jed, do you realize what you’re saying?”

“Yes. He wants another Purge.”

The pressure building inside slipped from my fingers and the glass smashed, shattering across the metal slop tray and along the bench. My first instinct was to stop the accident, and I managed to hold the beer in place without the glass. Shit. I caught Jed’s eye and let go. Beer sloshed to the counter, running over the edge and dripping onto my shoes. But he’d seen my slip.

“Roo, I don’t know if he’s going to attack all women or a select few. I do know he’s planning on burning them.” His eyes pleaded with me. “I know you aren’t a witch, but you can obviously help. The hunter told me you had gifts. We’ve been working closely on a few things, but our alliance needs to stay secret. If people found out that I helped get you out of there… well, can you tell him?”

I nodded, lost for words. I found a rag and mopped up my mess. So he arrested me, but helped me get released? Wow. I owed him a thanks.

“Be prepared. I think the Inquisitor is planning his Purge for after the festival. He’s going to wait until all the tourists have left.”

He hadn’t mentioned my witch slip. It seemed people were becoming indifferent to my abilities. Well, my friends, anyway. First Kitty, then Tommy, now Jed. It gave me hope.

“Pst.” Kitty was ready. She gestured for me to dim the lights and turn up the music. When I turned back around, Jed was headed out the door.

It was all Petra’s fault. If she hadn’t showed up, the Inquisitor wouldn’t be on his holy rampage. What if she did something else, in another woman’s body? I had to stop her before every female in town paid for her obsession with me. I would have to go on the offensive. I just wasn’t sure how, or where to start. I sighed. I’d better start listening to Cash.

I had a fleeting sensation of dread as I walked to the sound system and scanned the room. Tommy, still surrounded by pretty young things on the dance floor, cast a glance in my direction every so often. Cash was missing, probably hauled up with the blonde bimbo somewhere. Even Jimbo had swapped his work clothes for something more casual and was sitting by a table bopping his greasy head to the music.

Everyone seemed happy. I flipped the light switch and cast the room into sudden darkness then picked up the microphone to speak but nothing came out. I cleared my throat and tried to keep my voice steady. “Ladies and gentlemen, for your entertainment, please welcome Miss. Kitty Muse.”

“Ahem,” Courtney said from behind me. I turned to see her in the shadows. Blue glittered falsies twinkled in the light from the kitchen, coral lipstick glimmered and something fluffy covered her body. She backed up and closed the door.

“Oh, and also Miss. Courtney Rhymes,” I said into the microphone, then turned the lights on and pressed play. Light exploded in the room and the tune to one of my all-time favorite non-Prince songs came on. Cyndi Lauper with Girls Just Want to Have Fun.

Kitty burst through the door in a pink, satin, skin-hugging vintage prom dress, tight—very tight—and low at the bust with a flared, tulle and lace skirt. Ah, I could see Courtney clearly. She’d also dressed in classic Wheels and Dollbaby style, with a matching pale blue prom dress, trimmed in black. Her platinum hair was huge—like a pineapple. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. They moved in unison dancing and bopping with untapped energy. Courtney sang back-up and, by the time they hopped up on the bar, they were vivacious and charismatic. Kitty kicked off her shoes, and the crowd cheered in a drunken frenzy.

Their energy was intoxicating and left me reeling with a mild case of vertigo. It could have been the energy, or it could have been the dizzying idea that some women in the crowd might be burned at the stake in a few short days. Should I warn the locals? The dizziness grew, and I steadied myself on the stereo, causing it to skip a beat, which brought a frown from the Queen of Pop. I didn’t think my woozy head would survive much longer. No one would want a drink for a while and I needed air.

I headed out the back.

Chapter 21

I opened the back door and took a deep breath. Cool, therapeutic air filled my lungs. My nose tingled from the sudden change in temperature. It was so muggy inside, but outside it was dark and quiet with nobody but—

“Ahem.”

I jumped. Petra?

A shadow stirred below me and I lowered my gaze. Cash sat a few feet away at the top of the steps. He leaned on his elbows so his hands cupped his chin and kicked the dirt making his head bob. He didn’t seem to mind though. I eyed off the almost empty bottle of bourbon beside him and smirked. The king of cool was drunk.

“Are you drunk Cash? Guess I’m driving home.” The words came out a little bit snarkier than I intended, and then I remembered my pledge to be nicer to him and bit my lip.

“Bah.” He waved his hand. “It’ll wear off in an hour or so. The perks of being what I am. You too.” He twisted to look at me with puffy eyes and droopy lids and winked. “Tommy isn’t so lucky. He’ll be sore tomorrow.”

I stopped a laugh and slapped a hand over my mouth. Had he just winked at me?

He patted the small space on the step next to him, almost fell sideways, then caught himself.

“No time like the present to have our chat. I think I’ve been pretty patient waiting for you,” he said, slurring his words.

“Okay.” I sat down with a thump. I suppose he had humored me by letting me finish my last shift in peace and Kitty had an extra-long show planned. He swayed as I landed. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I just needed some air, it was getting crowded in there.”

“You’re telling me. That music sent everyone’s energy flying. I could almost reach out and touch it.”

“So, you can really feel their auras, huh?”

I shrugged.

He stared at me with eyelids half-mast and lips slightly apart for a few silent seconds. Despite his drunken state, calculating thoughts seemed to flit across his expression and I was reminded of my impression of him when he went for a surf. Driven, relentless, focused on getting what he wanted. The only question was, how did I fit into that plan?

He shook his head and turned back to the ground. We listened to the crickets chirping and the waves crashing for a moment and I contemplated telling him about Jed’s confession. But in his inebriated state, I wasn’t certain he’d remember any of it. I didn’t even know if he would care. I shifted in my seat. I’d tell him later.

“So, about this mentor thing. What’s involved?” I asked.

I detected a faint note of contempt in his voice when he spoke. “Usually, your mentor raises you from birth until your human body has matured and capable of using a Player’s soul to its full capacity. That happens around the age of twenty-one. But we’ve been through that—have we been through that?” He swayed and blinked at me. “Wait. Did I just say matured?” He flared his eyes at my body. “I meant aware—you become aware of your abilities.” He laughed and waved at my chest, snorting at his mistake. “I think it’s obvious you’ve matured.”

I never noticed before but he had the same laughing eyes as his brother. There was even a dimple in his cheek.

“What?” He’d noticed my shocked expression.

“Uh, nothing. What you said makes sense,” I said. “What’s next?”

“Then there is a ritual that links the souls of a mentor and his progeny, so both parties are invested in the results of the Game.”

“Ritual doesn’t sound inviting.”

“It’s not that bad, just a bit of blood sharing,” he said, and punched me in the arm. “Remember I told you not to share your blood? That’s another reason why.”

“Okay, well then in that case, it sounds like fun.” My nerves jangled at the thought of what a ritual might entail. I conjured visions of fire-chanting, dancing pagans and exocannibalism.

“Eh.” He shrugged. “The point is that the mentor needs to train you as well as he can, get you through the trials, then release you into the world to play the Game, hopefully as an ally. He or she takes a percentage of your winning points at the end. If the progeny fails, then both suffer devolution.”

He swayed toward me, picked up the bottle and took a swig, leaving just a few droplets to clink to the bottom. He dropped it and it landed with a thunk on the sandy floor in front of us then he stood up. With wobbly arms, he pulled me up next to him and led me to the balustrade looking over the beach. It sounded like the show was still in full swing, so I let myself be guided.

When we got to the railing, he stood behind me and braced an arm either side of me on the wooden beam. It was probably to hold himself up, but it essentially trapped me in place. He raised one arm to point at the sky, pushed in close and spoke next to my ear.

“See those three bright stars lined in a perfect row, with the blue and white one below and the red one—”

“Orion—the Hunter,” I said, with a sinking feeling in my stomach. I pointed to the constellation below it. “And that one below it, the bright one, is Sirius, his dog.”

“That’s basically where we’re from. That’s the Queen’s Empire.” His breath smelled like bourbon and felt warm on my skin. “What you can’t see in the southern hemisphere is the Ursa Constellation. That’s where your father is from, only he hasn’t been back in centuries.”

So in his own way, my father had taught me about our history. He’d done his job. The thought caused a stirring of emotion—regret, loss and a sting of bitterness at his absence. After all those summers stargazing as a family, he’d decided I was unworthy and left. And why did he settle us in the southern hemisphere if we couldn’t even see his home?

“How did we get here? Isn’t it something ridiculous, like, hundreds of light years away?”

“We are not really here in the traditional sense. Well, not you and I anyway. Marc is, your dad too. There are a few others who were left stranded after the deluge; they aren’t allowed to participate in the Game and are called Watchers. We Players—Nephilim—leave our physical body behind and Marc brings our souls here.”

I gasped. “You mean there are two of me? Of you?” My mind reeled, and I patted my chest, feeling for solidity. “But, how can that be? I’m pretty physical here, flesh and blood. I’ve touched Marc. He seems pretty physical too, and yet he dissolves into nothingness. I don’t get it. Shouldn’t it take him a long time to get here too?”

He rested his head on the back of my shoulder. “You ask a lot of questions, has anyone told you that before?”

“Uh…”

“Shhh.” He nuzzled into me, breathed in deep and sighed. I felt his body align against the back of me and my eyes fluttered at the heated contact. My heart kicked against my ribcage when his hands ran up the length of my arms to squeeze my shoulders in a lover’s caress. Then he stepped back, opening a coolness down my spine. I shivered and turned around to study his face, made sharp by the shadows of the night.

“Marc’s the only one who can bend the fabric of space-time to travel from one point to another,” he said, “He doesn’t dissolve, he just”—two hands rose and drew together, pointer fingers touching—“steps from one point in space to another. He can’t carry anyone physically through the portal, only himself and our spiritual souls. Our physical bodies are left behind, soulless, like an empty shell.”

“So, how do we know how well we are playing?”

“Nobody knows until they finish and either move up or down the ladder, so to speak. You gain abilities or lose them. I suppose it’s like a big game of Karma. Gods create the Nephilim bodies by procreating with humans. It means they’re bound by blood to all Players in their lineage.”

“Why are you risking your evolution on a girl you’ve just met?”

He shrugged and said nothing for a while. Waves crashed on the shore. An awkwardness settled over me. I wanted to find out more about the Game, but echoes of his touch lingered on my neck, arms and rear. I wanted more of that, too.

“What does it feel like?” he asked, eventually, in a gravelly voice.

“Pardon me?”

“Being in love—what does it feel like?” I thought I saw pain reflected in his eyes, a flicker of emotion, but was possibly confused under the moonlight. He studied the ocean. I followed his gaze.

“I don’t know Cash. I can’t say I’ve ever been in love.”

We watched the shadows play across the dunes and beach together, seeing the same things but thinking different thoughts. I shivered remembering what had happened here two nights before and had the urge to go back inside. I shifted, but was pulled up short by his voice.

“I’ve lived so many lives, but I don’t remember ever being in love. The memories get foggier the further back they are, but I still can’t remember feeling the way I think Tommy feels. I see the way he looks at you and how women look at him or me. I know how my mother used to looked at my father, I… I’m drawn to you, but it’s not the same.” He scrubbed his hand over his face.

He was drawn to me? I didn’t know what to say, so placed my hand on his shoulder and squeezed. He looked at it with a longing I couldn’t understand.

“You see, you put your hand there and I know you must feel something: compassion, sympathy, something. I know the words and I should know the feelings to go with them, but I don’t. It’s how I know something is missing inside of me.” He looked up to the dark sky shadowed with blotches of clouds. “When my body became aware of its powers, I had a fit and drove our car into a tree. I killed my father.”

“I’m sorry, Cash.”

“I should care, but I’m empty.”

I bit my lip. Despite his proclamation, I knew he was hurting, in the only way he could. He poured his heart out to me and I didn’t know what to say.

I circled my thumb on his shoulder. “Is that why you’ve been so hell-bent on catching Petra? Does she know something?”

“I’ve heard she has a book that can explain my situation. She’s a reaper—a collector of souls. Nobody knows how I came to be, so she’s my best chance. The gods don’t even know how to split souls like that.” He examined me closely for a minute. “That’s why we keep asking about your aura-sensing. Soul-manipulating is rare. There are only a handful of Players who can do it. Some will want you on their side, others will want you dead. They want me dead, too—comes with the territory. If they catch wind of my situation before I fix myself, then I could be ejected before I’m made whole. I won’t go back in pieces.”

He blinked at me with sleepy eyes, then pulled the keys out of his pocket and handed them to me. “I think you’d better drive the Jeep home tonight.”

He said home.

I didn’t even know if he knew what that word meant to me, and he’d probably forget it in the morning, but a sense of belonging embedded in me at that moment. After everything he’d explained, I finally felt a part of something.

“Yep, okay,” I said. “It’s almost closing time. I need to go back inside. Stay out here until I say goodbye and collect Tommy. Guess I’m leaving my bike here, huh?”

He plonked back down on his butt. “I feel better already. Give me half an hour and I’ll ride your bike home. That way I’m only risking my own safety.”

And my beautiful bike.

He turned at the last moment and waggled his finger. “Don’t say anything to Tommy, he doesn’t know—well he does, but he doesn’t.”

“Yeah, don’t stress, I know. I haven’t told Kitty about the Player stuff either.”

“Good.”

I decided not to mention the other drivers out there he could crash into so left him, my mind boggling. Wowsers, he’d told me a lot. He’d trusted me with his secret. The magnitude of this step was not lost on me. But as I sought out Joe, I realized Cash hadn’t answered my question. I still didn’t know why he wanted to be my mentor.

I found Joe in the office, writing up rosters and explained about my extended leave. His face drooped, but he considered my family problems and the fact that I’d already booked the next week off for the festival, and seemed okay about it. I kept the feeling that my leave might be longer than a few weeks to myself. Cash had mentioned some trials before I was to be released to officially start my own journey in the Game. And, if we couldn’t defeat Petra, maybe I wouldn’t be here to worry about it, anyway.

Chapter 22

I was up before dawn, fresh and rejuvenated from a dreamless sleep. My window had been boarded up, but wildlife noises filtered through the cracks. Magpies warbled and birds tweeted. At least I couldn’t feel the thrum of energy buzz through the alarm’s static electricity barrier.

Unable to sleep, my thoughts kept returning to Cash and what he’d said to me last night. He was drawn to me. The imprint of his touch still burned and, slowly, I realized I was becoming drawn to him, too. I wanted more, but after his confession about his soul, it felt wrong to go to him. He’d probably deny everything anyway and blame the alcohol for his rare moment of truth. If it was the truth.

Still in my shorty pajamas, I slipped out of my room eager to take advantage of the quiet house and explore. I had the run of the place with Cash and the car conspicuously absent. Tommy had passed out in his room from the previous night’s alcoholic endeavors and when I poked my head in to check on him, he barely moved. It was the best time for some reconnaissance on my new guardian and potential mentor.

I started in the dining area, rummaging through the papers that always seemed to cover the table. I didn’t know what I was looking for but read everything. In short, I was being a snoop. He’d poured his heart out to me in a drunken state, but somehow, I felt he had intentionally deferred my question. Hell, he’d had thousands of years to perfect his manipulation skills. The more information I had on Cash the better. Committing to a blood bond wasn’t something you did every day.

Some will want you on their side, others will want you dead.

That’s what he’d said last night. So if he didn’t want me dead, he wanted me on his side. That much was obvious, but I was still suspicious.

As well as paperwork, the table was littered with various witch enforcement paraphernalia. I recognized a collar clasp and a pair of glass cuffs and there was also a stun-gun-thing and another weapon-type-thing—a bit like a grenade but without a pin. I sifted through pages and pulled out one at random. It was a death certificate of a woman dated three years ago with a small photo clipped to the top. Something was scribbled at the bottom. “Last known host.” Could it be linked to Petra? I kept looking and found three more death certificates with photos and a similar note.

My fingers hovered over a tattered photograph—a young Cash and probably his father. They were smiling widely at the camera at a baseball game. If Cash had no feelings why would he carry around a photograph of his dead father?

The Jeep crunched into the driveway. I hastily tucked the photo under the papers and scampered into the kitchen. When Cash walked in with groceries, I pretended to rifle through the fridge. He wore a blue baseball cap and a Texas Rangers shirt, similar to the one in the photograph—gray with blue sleeves. Maybe he was feeling nostalgic if that was possible. He cooked eggs in silence and after we ate, we did the dishes.

I wanted to ask more about his soul; I wanted to help. Now and then I’d glance at him and find him either deep in thought, or quickly looking away.

“C’mon, out with it,” I said after the fifth time he threw a look in my direction.

“Out with what?”

“I can practically hear your thoughts. What’s up?”

He gave me a half smile and put his dish away. “We need to make our relationship formal.”

I froze. “What?”

He threw the red-checked tea towel over his shoulder and stood with his hands on his hips. “I think I understand why you are hesitant to do this ritual. You need to see proof of my worth first. You want a sample of what I can teach you.”

“Oh, the ritual.”

“Of course, what did you think I meant?”

“Uh, nothing.” Well, that could’ve been embarrassing.

“There’s a lot for you to learn. We’re going after an ancient witch who’s been hiding from me for years. She’s good. So the first priority is to work on your self-preservation and hunting skills—yours are non-existent. Then we’ll do the ritual and I’ll brief you about tonight’s barbecue.” He pointed at my pajamas. “You should change. That’s not suitable attire for what I have planned.”

“Whoa,” I said, blinking at the barrage of information. But he was right. We had a serious takedown staged for tonight and I’d promised I’d do the ritual. “Okay. Let me just get showered.”

“You’re actually going to do as I say? No argument?”

“I told you at the hospital and again last night—I’m all yours.”

“You didn’t say that, but good. I get the reference.” He relaxed then gave my pajamas another look. “No need for a shower. You’ll just get messed up. Put on some exercise clothes and shoes for running.”

I started toward my room but turned back. “Wait! I just remembered something. I spoke with Jed last night, he wanted me to tell you something.”

I told him the Inquisitor’s plans and, when I finished, he pulled out his phone. “Go get ready. I’ll sort this out.”

I dressed in cut-offs, an orange racer-back gym top and slip-on runners, and was ready to leave when I caught sight of my backpack under the bed. Uncertainty unfurled in my gut. I unzipped the side pocket and retrieved Kitty’s key. For an instant, I was faced with an alternate decision. Stick with Cash or go out on my own. I turned it over in my fingers, contemplating, then on instinct flipped it into the air and asked if I should do the ritual with Cash. It was a big decision and, as Kitty mentioned last night, one that could take me to another country. I snatched the key mid-air and held it in a fist, palm-up. I tapped my foot, torn between looking at the result or going it on my own.

“Nah,” I said without opening and then threw the key over my shoulder. It clattered to the floor.

I made my own choices. I would stick to them.

I tied my hair into a ponytail as I walked outside and found Cash holding the handle of the Jeep’s rear door. As I approached, he lifted the hatch.

“Eek,” I cried and jumped back.

A hog-tied woman lay scrunched up with her metal collar attached to a car battery by a wire. She squinted at the sudden light. I blocked my nose. She was filthy—stinking, rotten filthy. Her brown hair clumped in dreadlocks and grime covered her face. Pale, smudged clothing covered her skinny frame and her clear green eyes whipped around wildly. She looked human—wild and untamed—but still human. Baring her rotting teeth, she hissed.

Cash poked her with his finger. She whimpered and jerked back. His lack of compassion shocked me.

“Don’t—”

“This,” he said, cutting me off, “is a witch.” He leaned in and flicked the battery wire. “This wire is sending voltage to her collar, disrupting the signals she needs to evict herself. She’s essentially stuck in there until the battery drains, or we pull it off.”

“Holy shitballs, Cash. You’ll get arrested for this, with the treaty and all. Where did you find her?”

Cash’s nostrils flared and his eyes watered. He pulled a packet of gum from his shorts pocket and stuffed a piece into his mouth. He offered me a stick, but I shook my head, unable to believe he was so calm when a hog-tied woman lay next to us.

“Sorry, my olfactory is really sensitive. The gum helps to block out the rot. The treaty is a load of bullshit,” he said. “There’s no amnesty for unlawful possession of a human body. I doubt she’s received permission from her host to enter the vessel and she looks too young to be suffering a terminal illness. After you and Tommy fell asleep, I found her at your aunt’s house last night running around with a few other fresh hosts, so I took her and killed the rest. It appears that Petra’s got a bit of an entourage, or spies. Haven’t figured that part out yet.” Cash pulled a pair of mirrored aviator sunglasses from his back pocket and put them on. “I’m going to let her go. I want you to catch her, neutralize her and then kill her.”

My heart leapt into my throat. “You’re serious?”

He stopped chewing and stared at me. My reflection in his sunglasses showed my golden eyes wide and mouth open—I closed it.

“As soon as I remove the collar, she’s going to attack. I’m doing this because you need practice. We don’t know what we’ll be facing tonight, and we can’t afford surprises.”

“Shit.” Panic surged through me. “But what do I do?”

His brows lifted over the edge of his glasses. “You don’t know?”

“It’s not like I catch witches in my spare time and keep them in my car to practice on. Shouldn’t we talk about this first?”

“Tell me what you know.”

“All I know is that you need to drown them to really kill them—that’s what you said right? At the police station? Do I have to kill her? I don’t want to kill her, she looks pitiful. Can’t we just fix her somehow?”

He folded his arms across his chest and his temple pulsed madly as he chewed. “You can’t fix a witch, La Roux. She’s not like you or me. She’s not even like a human. Her sanity is gone, the soul she pushed out is gone. She’s a shadow of her former self, run by obsession. You’d put down a rabid dog wouldn’t you?”

“But what right do we have to take her life away? They’ve fought this hard to get to where they are. Isn’t that just evolution? You’re telling me this Game is all about listening to the universe.” I pointed at the car. “Isn’t that the universe speaking?”

“You’ve got the wrong idea. The universe doesn’t always speak about happy endings. Think about the animals in the African wilderness. This is the same—survival of the fittest, just like the Game. The best way to learn is to jump into the deep end.”

I blinked, shocked at his harsh words. “I’m not going to get out of this am I?”

It wasn’t the first time Cash had mentioned the threat of mortal danger in the Game. It was starting to sink in. I swallowed. If I wanted to live, I needed to toughen up.

There is a moment, just before death, when peace settles like a blanket, soothing and calm. It prepares you for passage to the next life. I knew this because I’d felt it. When the Inquisitor had questioned me, I’d been under water, screaming and struggling. Then all at once, I realized fighting was futile and submitted. I stopped thrashing and let go. That acceptance conserved my breath and my energy. It kept me alive. I had to accept my fate. I clenched my fists. It was time to grow some balls.

“You ready?” Cash asked with his fingers around the witch’s collar. “On the count of three, I’m going to release her. Then it’s up to you.”

“Wait. You haven’t told me what I need to know yet.”

“1, 2…” He let go of the witch and she released an explosion of energy that knocked me over. Cash didn’t flinch.

I scrambled to my feet, blinked to clear my vision and chased the witch to the end of the clearing. Running on pure instinct, I closed the gap between us and launched myself, hoping to grab onto her trailing dress. I collided with her wiry body and we tumbled into the grass and gravel.

“Oof.” She kicked me in the guts as I grappled with her. My nail beds screamed as I grasped her flesh, clothes, anything in reach. Her fists flailed. We rolled, pulling each other’s hair like bratty teenagers. She screamed and hissed and I slammed her down by her shoulders, holding her there with my legs straddling her lower body. Phew. I was on top, not so hard with her bony frame. But then her eyes went black. She was channeling, gathering her energy. I built my own energy reserves, pulling it from my surrounds—the trees, wildlife. Before I could release it, pain sliced through my naked shoulders where her dirty fingers had gouged. The wound burned.

She spat in my face. Eew, fucking gross. I cringed, let go of her shoulders and leaned back, but kept my legs locked tight, determined not to let go as she pummeled my chest. Her saliva tingled where it touched my skin and I willed my body to reject the hex—like an unwanted virus. I concentrated until my head ached. “Reject the virus,” I said. The burning receded, and I recovered my wits. I slapped her face and grappled for her flailing fists.

“We all know about you. You’re a famous nothing, a mistake, a reject,” she hissed.

“I know you are, but what am I?” I stuck my tongue out. Okay, maybe not such a good idea. She punched the side of my head and black spots swam across my vision. I’d underestimated her strength and my own stupidity for baiting her. I scrambled to regain my stronghold and straddled her scrawny body.

Grab her hands. She uses telekinesis through her hands.

That’s right. Petra used telekinesis against me.

I grunted and held her hands at her side to stop her using her weapon against me. I searched wildly for Cash. Damn it, where was he? I had no water, no electricity. What was I supposed to do?

Knock her out.

“What do I do?” I screamed.

I copped another spray of spit and flinched. My eyes closed and my grip went lax. She wriggled out from under me, toppling me to the side. I recovered and lunged. I grabbed her kicking leg. She hauled herself up, and suddenly our positions were reversed. She was on top. Her nails pierced my shoulders, and I screamed.

Cash sauntered over. “Stop holding back,” he said. “Use your gifts.”

The witch hissed at him, shifted slightly, and my lapse of attention won me a handful of dirt in my eyes.

“Argh.” I squeezed them closed. Sharp pain erupted behind my eyelids and tears gushed from my eyes. “You want to fight dirty, huh?” I said through gritted teeth.

She tore at my face with her chipped nails and I tried to ignore the pain. It would heal. My body would take care of itself. I stopped thrashing, and pushed at her chest, yanking handfuls of cloth to dislodge her, but she was a banshee on a mission. She wouldn’t budge.

I thought of fire, blisters and pain, then spat in her face. She screamed when my saliva made contact. Her hands flew to her face, but she didn’t get off me. I felt around the grass and gravel beside me. My blurred vision trailed the movement of my fingers as they slid over the bumpy surface. I needed something—anything to knock her out with.

Her skin sizzled. My hex had worked. I was obviously better at counteracting witchcraft than she was. Triumph faded to despair as her legs cinched around my waist. I gulped for air.

Telekinesis is in the hands.

Yes. Why was I trying to knock her out when I could fry her with my hands? My energy built and crackled inside me, my hair lifted with the static. The air grew thick and the taste of metal lanced my tongue. My fingertips heated, and I palmed her chest, giving her everything I had. I smelled burning flesh and her screams stopped. Her body convulsed, eyes bulged and her sizzling body collapsed.

Leaves rustled gently in the wind, a quiet a contrast with the previous chaos.

I choked on the scent of her sweat, grime and cooked flesh, then remembered her saliva covering my face and gagged. I grunted, trying to push her body off when the weight lifted as Cash pulled her away. The action took little effort from him and he discarded her like a rag doll next to him. It was a taste of that lethal force I’d sensed earlier.

That was not fun. Not fun at all. I scrubbed my face with the back of my hand.

“You’re a walking Taser gun,” he said, amused. “But what will you do when she wakes?”

I rolled onto my side and propped myself up to squint at him. My body burned wherever she had scratched me. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“No, I’m not. She’ll only be stunned for a few seconds, a minute at the most.”

I sprang to my feet and hauled ass to the car, intending to grab the electric collar.

“No, no. You need to kill her, not subdue her again. You won’t always have weapons at your disposal. Look around, what else can you use?”

“Fuck!” I changed direction and ran to the house where I pulled the garden hose back to the witch. I wrapped it around her neck then planted my foot on her chest and pulled tight, strangling her. I winced as she stirred.

“I hate this. Oh my God, I hate this,” I chanted as I pulled. “Do I kill her before drowning her or after?”

Holy moly, I sounded ridiculous.

She opened her eyes and started to thrash about. I shoved a knee onto her chest and yanked on the hose. She choked and bloody spots appeared under her skin. Oh, jeez.

“It’s risky to kill before you drown them. Some witches go into shock after their host’s death and take a few minutes before they can eject, but others can do it within thirty-seconds. Better to kill via drowning,” Cash said. “Then you’re sure you got her.”

I didn’t think much could happen in thirty-seconds, and didn’t want to risk leaving her to turn on the water. I tightened my core and strained. Her face bloated, her tongue bulged out, and finally, like tiny, bloody fireworks, the vessels around her eyes burst and she went limp. The host was dead, the witch stunned, deep inside the body.

I sprinted to the tap and turned it on and then shoved the gushing nozzle into the witch’s mouth and clamped her jaws shut with my hands. The water flowed into her throat and filled her lungs. Her stomach bloated.

“Will this work?” I asked, eyes frozen on the train wreck in front of me.

Cash’s feet sloshed in the sodden grass as he crouched down next to me. “In theory, yes.”

In theory. Great. I gulped and tried not to panic as we watched and waited. The cold water relieved my burning skin. My nose itched, and the sensation became unbearable.

“Are we safe yet?” I asked. I felt for her soul’s energy but found nothing. “I can’t feel her. How can you tell for sure she’s gone?”

“If she hasn’t moved by now, then she’s not going to.” Cash turned off the tap then pointed to the water oozing from her mouth and nose. “See the black tinge? That’s the saturated residue of her soul. She’s gone.”

I shot off the body. As I did, a wave of shame rolled over me. I turned my back on the sodden corpse and sat, clutching my middle and staring at the house. My muscles trembled, my teeth rattled. Emotions battled inside—shame, relief, triumph, sadness. Fury won.

“You made me kill her,” I snarled.

“Yes, you did a good job of it too. You thought on your feet, used your initiative. I think you’ll do well in the trials. Your fighting skills are atrocious and you have no control over your abilities, but we can work on that,” Cash said from behind me. I heard a series of heavy squelches. “Just to be sure, I think I’ll dump her body in the ocean. Then we’ll do the ritual.”

“I didn’t want to kill her,” I yelled, looking to the sky for help. But there was no God. I was one of them and I had taken a life. My tremors grew until I had to hug myself to stop from toppling over. “I’m not a killer. I fix things. I don’t break them.”

“She’s a witch. We’ve been through this.” His gruff voice gave me a hint of his frustration.

I whipped around to burn him with my gaze. “Who are we to be judge and jury? She was human once.”

“But you aren’t, you never were. You’re a Player, a Nephilim.” Cash dropped the body and pulled a Swiss army knife from his pocket. “You’re not one of them. We should do the ritual now.”

“Aaarrrrgh!” I threw a pebble at him.

“Good, you’re angry. Hang onto it. It will protect you from feeling fear. Fear has no place in a life or death situation.”

Right then, I hated him for making me kill her. I knew there’d been no choice, but I still hated him for it. It wasn’t like I sympathized with the witch, she bloody well spat fire in my face. But I mourned for the woman who was the host, and for the original person, before she became an evil witch.

What would my future hold? Having super-secret witch powers had been kind of cool, but killing and fighting for survival was a whole different ball game. I’d stepped through the looking glass into a violent and desolate wonderland, unsure I wanted a part in the world at all.

“Right now, I don’t even want to talk to you.” I wiped my eyes and went inside.

Chapter 23

I opened the driver-side window of the Jeep and swallowed hard. Despite spending a quiet afternoon in my room, my stomach still churned and crawled. I’d avoided Cash completely and as a result hadn’t eaten. Instead, I’d swallowed butterflies. My hand rushed to cover my mouth but they still tried to escape. I concentrated on breathing.

Sweet-smelling countryside whizzed by and giant trees crowded the road, blocking out the purple and pink sunset. The beach barbecue would be well underway. We were late, but hoped to arrive towards the end of the third course.

“Pay attention to the road,” Cash snapped from his spot in the back seat.

I closed the window and glared at him in rear-view mirror. He sat still, his face meditative, no doubt preparing himself for the night. He had dressed in black commando clothing: cargo pants tucked into black boots, black shirt, black Kevlar vest and an assortment of weapons cached throughout. He looked confident and smug.

Tommy did not. He fidgeted beside me. His face had taken on a slightly green hue as he stared out his window. He didn’t have the stomach for the hunting game, he’d told me earlier. The approaching evening held no pleasure for him.

“So, what’s this party like, Roo? What can we expect?” Tommy spoke quietly. The aesthetic opposite to his brother, he’d dressed in all white, his hair neatly brushed. His camera and press lanyard hung around his neck and his fingers clasped a bulging rectangle in his thigh pocket. He’d be dying for a smoke.

I shifted in my seat. My jeans and camisole stuck to me, despite the air-conditioning. I was probably underdressed—the barbecue guests would be in dresses and fancy clothes—but I’d opted for the practical and had even tied my hair in a top bun.

“Probie?”

I glanced at Tommy. “Yeah?” I put my foot on the brake and turned a corner.

“The party, what can we expect?”

“Well, it’s more like a gourmet barbecue. There’s a celebrity chef, a celebrity MC, and quite a few gourmet canapés carried around by waiters. Then as the night gets on, a DJ plays music and the drunken guests dance in the sand to their hearts’ content.”

“How many people are expected?” Cash asked.

I shrugged. “I’ve never really counted. Up to two hundred. It usually sells out.”

“What’s the layout like?” Tommy caressed his pocket.

“There’s giant tepees in a semi-circle on the sand with dining tables inside that face the ocean.” I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel. “There’s not really anywhere Petra can hide, unless she plans to sit with the guests. The cooking and serving areas are out in the open. No, wait. There’s the servers’ tent. That’s where the waiters take the dishes, set up the canapés and stuff like that. Since this is the first year Urser Estate has supplied the wine, I can’t really say what Petra will be doing. She might not even be required to be among the wait-staff. I can tell you this, it’s literally steps from the water.” I caught Cash’s gaze in the rear view. “But that makes me nervous. Why would she want us there if she’s at risk? Something’s not right.”

“She’s definitely planning something,” Cash said. “You two are just a distraction so don’t do anything stupid. If you have to, just subdue her until I arrive. I’ll get the information I need and then dispose of her. Drop me off here.”

Tommy shifted in his seat and said, “I don’t like you doing this on your own, Cash. We should get some back up.”

“You just worry about your photographs. I’ll be fine,” Cash said.

I wasn’t sure I believed him.

“Well, I guess this is a good spot to park as any.” We were at least two hundred metres from the beach parking lot, and cars lined the road. I manoeuvred the 4X4 onto the sandy verge and, without a word, Cash disappeared into the shrubbery. He would wait for the cover of darkness before making his way down to the tepees. I wish he’d told me more.

Tommy and I headed toward the beach entrance. To the right, just below the shrubbery on the dunes, the dark tips of the tepees could be seen against the sunset. The number of cars surprised me. People usually caught a bus so they could safely drink and not drive. I’d only lived in town for a few years, but it was the busiest I’d ever seen it.

I cast my senses over the dunes and caught the gathering below, a feat that demonstrated my burgeoning powers because it was at least a hundred meters away. I mentally high-fived myself. Energies spiked and pulsated with a languid melody. People appeared to be happy and vibrant, probably drunk on alcohol and life. In contrast, a cluster of sharp energy crowded the entrance to the barbecue. I wondered what the commotion was.

“They look like witch’s hats,” Tommy said as we drew close.

“Huh?”

“The giant tepees, they look like witch’s hats.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better, Tommy.”

A breeze carried a sweet, spicy smell mingled with garlic. My insides cramped at the mouth-watering aromas. I might be able to snag a few canapés from the waiters, if there were any left.

The turmoil in the car park grew stronger as we grew closer. It definitely belonged to a different crowd than the beach side partygoers. This crowd was angry, wild and erratic. Shouting and chanting got louder and more hateful as we approached. Human silhouettes blocked the entrance to the path to the beach. The mob’s voices and energy rose above the crashing of the waves in an intoxicating surge of vulgar hatred.

“Death to Witches.”

“Burn them all.”

“People first.”

Like a bad smell, the thick and unrefined drone of energy brought on the need to vomit. About twenty people pumped picket signs into the air. Spittle flew from their mouths; combustion sparks caught in the dying sunlight. We stopped a few metres from the angry group. The Inquisitor, Meerkat Maggie and Captain Redneck stood at the center.

Perfect.

Tommy cursed under his breath. He pulled me closer. “They’re the ones from the hospital, aren’t they? Put your head down, maybe they won’t see you.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and imagined my lion, strong and brave, prowling inside my ribcage, ready to pounce. Then I embraced Tommy and snuggled my face into his chest for comfort as well as discretion. A stab of panic pitched through me as he led me around the mob to where the beach path lay. Why were they targeting the barbecue? I thought Cash had sorted it out that morning. I couldn’t fathom the connections, it must have been all coincidence.

Where you’re concerned, there are no coincidences, just ignorance. I scowled at my inner voice. It wasn’t helping the situation.

We jostled past bodies and were halfway to our goal, when a voice shouted, “It’s her, the witch!”

Rough hands yanked me from Tommy. People pulled at my arms, scratched me and tugged my hair. Pain sliced through my skin.

“Tommy!” I called to the air. My brain shut down, my body froze. The crowd’s roar swallowed my scream and I was immersed in sea of bodies. I couldn’t think of a single defensive action that wouldn’t reveal my incriminating skills.

A gunshot rang out, echoing along the dunes. Everyone stilled.

“Roo,” a familiar voice called. Jed. “Move to the walkway entrance. No one else move or I’ll arrest each and every one of you.”

One by one, hands dropped from my body and I pushed to the edge of the crowd where Tommy and Jed stood with flaming faces and wild eyes. Jed’s Glock 22 pointed skyward and when he spoke his voice held a command I’d never heard from him. He wore his police uniform and cut an imposing figure.

“It’s bad enough you people have nothing better to do, but since you’re on public property, you can lawfully protest peacefully—peacefully being the operative word. But mark my words, I’ve got the Tactical Response Group on call and I’m more than happy to charge each and every one of you with conspiracy to commit a domestic terrorism offence. If this protest escalates again, it will happen. This carries a penalty of up to twenty-five years in jail. This is your final warning.”

Half the crowd protested, the other half murmured nervously.

“Do you really have TRG back up?” I whispered into Jed’s ear.

He shook his head slightly, he was bluffing.

“You can’t stop us, we have rights,” someone yelled. “We have the Inquisitor on our side.”

A few men slapped the Inquisitor on the back, causing a seismic reaction in his face fat. His beady eyes bored into me and he lifted his hands into a V above his head, in one hand glinted the gold of a saintly charm.

“Join me in prayer, blessed believers,” he called. “Raise your hands and your voices, let us show this evil that we will not be shaken.”

“Amen,” came the murmur from the crowd.

“Step back, Satan, tempt me not with vain things. What you offer is evil. Drink the poison yourself. I abjure thee, creature of Satan.” His voice rang across the crowd and he made the sign of the cross. “Join me again…”

I turned my back. I’d heard it all before. The words were hollow this time. I had friends in my corner.

“Thanks Jed,” I said as he led us down the sandy path to beach where a string of pearl lights chinked quietly in the breeze overhead.

“No worries. They can’t bother you down here, it’s been leased from the council as a private event for the night.” Jed pulled me in close and whispered, “Have you spoken to the hunter about the intelligence I gave you last night?”

“Yeah, I did this morning. He said he was taking care of it. Didn’t he call you?” Jed shook his head, and I frowned. “Well, he’s here somewhere—” I clamped my jaw shut. Cash, the great communicator, might not have told Jed about our take-down tonight. “Has Cash mentioned anything about why we’re here?”

Jed’s eyes flicked to Tommy and his camera. “Oh, does he have a press pass? You’ll have to show that to the event organizers. It’s got nothing to do with me.”

So Jed didn’t know. It’s not something Cash would omit by accident. I bit my tongue and nodded slightly.

“All right then, take care. I’ll probably be here until the protesters leave, if you need me. It could be all night,” Jed said and turned back up the path.

The sky had become deep turquoise and navy blue. The low light played tricks on my mind and between the lion and the fluttery insects inside me, I was not in a good place. Shadows and people merged into one. I shivered in the warm ocean breeze.

The witching hour—when things weren’t as they appeared.

I grabbed Tommy’s elbow and led the way to the main event. I allowed my senses to look for Petra. Strangely, the echo of her signature bounced off each person and was hard to pinpoint—almost like a hacker rerouting his signal to avoid a tracer. Baffled, I checked again. It was definitely her. I recognized her vibrations. They’d given off a dirty, grating feeling that dug slowly into my bones, like fingernails on a blackboard.

“Well, do you want to take your photos?” I asked Tommy.

We stood at the epicenter of the feast amongst a sea of white wicker cane settees and giant wine barrels holding discarded drinks. The mood was cheery and light. Foodies took snaps of the gourmet delights and people bantered over the taste of particular wines and produce. A row of stainless steel barbecues separated us from the ocean and the tepees that curled off to each side were open so the tables inside could view the ocean. Laughter and music wafted through the area and I mentioned my surprise at such audible delights. Tommy didn’t respond.

“Earth to Tommy,” I waved my hand in front of his face.

He grinned down at me, revealing perfect white teeth and eyes sparkling in the soft light. “Earth to Roo, this is the bomb!” His warm hand enveloped mine and he pulled me along the festival lane, laughing.

I followed him, receptive to the festival setting, his good mood and forgetting—just for a moment—our purpose for being there. I knew I shouldn’t let my guard down but Cash said we were only the distractions. A waitress lifted a platter of scalloped canapés as we walked past. She looked eager to empty her tray, probably wanting to start cleaning up. Tommy grabbed two and handed one to me.

“Bottoms up.” He popped the whole thing into his mouth and closed his eyes “This is gold,” he mumbled. He pulled out his camera, adjusted some settings and took a macro shot of the last remaining nibbles, mumbling a quick thanks to the waitress.

I put the treat in my mouth and savored the exquisite flavors. Maybe I did believe in God, and heaven was in my mouth. “Oh my, kill me now,” I garbled.

He smirked and swiped another sample from the waitress. Then he cleaned off her tray. She looked grateful and disappeared, her empty tray hanging at her side.

Full dark had descended and most of the mature-aged sophisticates sat at the tables while the vibrant drinkers filtered into the sandy clearing. The music changed to something more upbeat. The atmosphere punched me in the face. I swayed, unsure how long I’d be able to walk straight with the excess of energy in the air. It was time to move towards Petra.

“Aren’t you supposed to be taking photos Tommy? You don’t have much time before it starts getting a bit wild in here.”

“Wild is my middle name, Probie. Don’t go anywhere.” He lifted his camera, flipped the flash on and started taking snaps of random individuals, asking questions, turning his back on me.

This was the distraction I had hoped for and, after my experience with the feral witch, I didn’t want Tommy close. I scoped the beach. No Cash. My vision blurred as a wave of energy surged from the dancers and I stumbled forward then hurried toward the strongest sense of Petra’s life-force. My steps faltered past the line of tents.

I moved to the edge of the gathering where the beach stretched in dark oblivion.

A voice snapped into earshot. “I’ll cut off your tongue if you speak another word, you insolent boy.”

Having just passed the servers’ tent, I blinked and looked around. Ten more steps and I’d reach the roped-off barricade. My eyes narrowed and I strained to hear the voice. It came from behind the tent.

“You can’t, you need it to remind you of all your secrets!” The child’s retort was answered by a loud cracking sound. Skin to skin.

“There are other ways, I’m warning you. Shut your mouth, or I’ll do it for you.”

“Pfft.” The kid blew a raspberry.

I followed the voice. As I rounded the corner behind the servers’ tent, Petra’s aura slammed into me, staggering me.

“Roo! You made it.” In the darkness, it could have been Aunt Lucy embracing me. Lavender wafted into the air on our impact. Their voices were identical, except the perfume didn’t fool me. A sickly sweet smell, like rotten fruit mixed with off-meat, laced through the lavender. She wore the Urser Estate uniform, a gray shirt embroidered with our gold logo with a gray apron covering her black trousers. She pushed me towards the light of the party and away from the darkness behind the tent where a small red-haired boy, maybe nine or ten slipped into view.

I raised my eyebrows at Petra. “You have a child working here?”

“No dear, you must be seeing things,” she said. The lantern light flickered in her face as she turned to me. Her eyes morphed from Aunt Lucy’s to the devious witch she was. All pretenses dropped. “Please, sister. Walk with me.”

This was it. I swallowed and followed her away from the entertainment, scanning the scene once more. Still no Cash. I sensed three energies behind the servers’ tent and hesitated.

Petra turned around. “What is it?”

“I thought you were afraid of the water,” I said, passing off my hesitation as something else.

“I have an insurance policy. You won’t try anything and neither will your hunter.” She clicked her fingers at the tent. The shadow of a dog, with the energy signature of a witch, trotted out. When it reached us, I could make out its light brown coat. I thought it was a Bull-Terrior about mid-thigh. It licked its lips, sharp teeth poking out.

“Are they all familiars?”

Petra looked at me as if I were stupid. “You think I’d share you with another able bodied witch?”

“What do you mean, share me?” Didn’t she know Cash had taken that witch from the outskirts of her home?

“C’mon,” she said, and walked into the darkness.

Okay, okay. I can do this. Following her, I ignored the soft white sand that filtered into my slip-on shoes and never took my eyes from her shadowy back.

“This is far enough,” she said.

I couldn’t see beyond an arm’s length until light erupted as Petra lit a small fire in a dugout in the sand, pre-filled with kindling.

“Did you just—?’ I couldn’t finish the sentence. Pyrokinesis, too?

“Tsk, tsk.” Petra shook her head slowly. “Do you know how long I’ve searched for a soul who can do what you can do? I could teach you so much, but there is no time, I’m afraid. He has moved our plans forward and I want to give you the opportunity to come to me willingly.”

“I’m here aren’t I?” I had no idea what she was talking about, but I needed to stall her. Where the hell was Cash? I let my fingers heat slightly with my power.

The dog came to sit patiently at Petra’s feet. Petra frowned at me.

“You don’t need to arm yourself with me, dear, I won’t hurt.” Her face transformed into something almost human again, alive with excitement. “You’ll share your knowledge and we can stay here, together?”

“Um, sure,” I said. “We don’t need to go anywhere.”

Something glinted in the firelight. Petra grinned, displaying Aunt Lucy’s stained smoker’s teeth. “Let’s not waste any time then.”

I gasped when I realized she held a knife, and intended to cut me with it.

“Wait,” I said, holding up my charged hand. “You want to drink my blood?”

“I will taste yours and then you will taste mine. We will be linked, two halves of one soul, ready to return to Paradise.” She waved her hand at the stars.

“What?” I must have looked horrified, but what she described sounded eerily like something Cash warned against.

“Did you not like my gift?”

“The dead bird?” I choked out.

“Yes, it was one of the familiars who attacked you. Could you not tell? It was a symbol of my protection and loyalty. They might come for you, but I’ll killed them all. I reaped their immortal souls and saved them for Him. They won’t bother you, as long as we’re together, I’ll always protect you, my dear.”

I heard the lie in her words. She wanted me but it wasn’t to protect me. She collected souls, and mine was a doozy. A crow cawed over the crackle of fire and the distant music and rabble of conversation reminded me that we weren’t alone.

The dog suddenly snarled, leapt to its feet and faced the dark.

Cash appeared out of the shadows, pointing his gun at Petra with one hand and holding a Taser in the other.

“Where are those souls now, Petra?” he asked.

Chapter 24

“You’re going back on your word?” Petra’s yellowed eyes shot to me in disgust and she bared her rotten teeth, then spat in the fire. “I can’t say I’m surprised. You are your father’s daughter after all.”

“What does my father have to do with this?”

“Give yourself up Petra,” Cash said. “You have nowhere to run. Even your leader has decreed your death sentence.”

Petra gasped. That was obviously news to her. It was certainly news to me.

“Eve has decreed you a traitor to your kind and cut her ties. I’ve already caught bounty hunters loitering around the estate, waiting to pick you off for a reward. There will be more. Would you rather a quick death with me or to be handed over to them?” Cash inched closer, and the dog growled, salivating, waiting for a signal.

Petra turned to me. Her eyes bled to black.

“She’s channeling!” I shouted.

Cash leapt forward, the dog attacked and howls erupted in the dunes beyond. Flames exploded into a crackling firework and sparks shot towards us. I jumped back, stumbled and shielded my eyes. Temporarily blinded from the flare, I lost control of my energy and released it in the direction of the snarls, and where I’d last seen Cash. The dog yelped.

My vision cleared. The bloody familiar hung limp in Cash’s arms and he looked at me, bug-eyed. The dog was alive, the essence pushed out. It wriggled in Cash’s hands until he dropped it to the ground, then it yelped and ran away. Shit, I had come so close to hurting Cash again, or had it sailed right through? A wave of exhaustion rolled over me. I hadn’t meant to let so much go.

From the corner of my eye, I spotted Aunt Lucy’s black silhouette racing towards the light of the festivities. The snarling from the dunes grew louder, and I burst into action, bolting after the witch. But my legs were leaden. I struggled with every step. Then it occurred to me, I could borrow energy, like I had with Alvin. A snippet here, and a scrap there—surely I wouldn’t hurt anyone, they had so much to spare with all their drunken dancing. I kept one eye on Aunt Lucy’s receding apparition, and the other—my mind’s eye—on the familiars coming towards us. Two came from the dunes and one from behind the tepee.

The two from the dunes stopped. Their energy signatures hesitated and retreated. Something was changing. But Petra was getting away. I sprinted until I reached the row of tents. She was just in front of me. I slammed into a few patrons and turned to apologize, but they ignored me, like zombies. Maybe it was the alcohol. I scanned the crowd and saw Petra’s apron tails swallowed by the revelers on the sand.

“Crap!” I ran after her and pushed into the mob, smacking into a thick wall of energy.

Then, as if moving through jelly, I approached a circular gap—the epicenter. With a pop I penetrated the membrane.

I’d entered another place, another dimension where time moved differently. The vibe from the happy dancers swirled inside my head and around my body. I swayed in circles, trying to focus, but the music pumped rhythm into my soul. Faster and faster it beat.

“No, no, no.” I looked to the sky, sucking, gasping for fresh air. I shouldn’t have entered. Time slowed and energy leached into my body, down to my bones, down to my soul. I blinked at my arms. Losing control. My skin: gone. My bones: replaced with live, buzzing wires.

Suddenly aware and, at once alive, I gaped at the bodies twirling around me in a swirl of arousing energy. They moved in slow motion, but strangely in time to the beat. My skin tingled in a never-ending anthem.

It fizzed. It popped. It burst.

I licked my lips, tasting the world for the first time. People laughed, and the universe echoed in their eyes. The stars winked at me, and I winked back.

“Hey friends, hey stars.” I waved, smiling, intoxicated.

The moon bathed me, the waves lulled me. They were happy. I was happy. I wanted to join them—to join my friends. I lifted my foot to dance and stopped. There was something… I should have been… but… I felt so light.

I giggled. Dance. I just wanted to dance.

I smiled at my new friends. My skin buzzed, and I hopped from one foot to the other. This close to the pulsing vibe, I could see auras smoke off bodies in curls of kaleidoscopic color. My eyes orgasmed at the sight. My hips moved without permission. I sashayed, I pranced, I moved.

My hair felt trapped in its bun and I pulled it loose, slipping the elastic around my wrist. I balanced on my toes. My shoes were in the way. I kicked them off.

The sand caressed the soles of my feet. I slipped my fingers into my hair. The pressure of my fingertips connected with my scalp and sparks flew across my body. My eyes rolled back from the pleasure of it. I moaned. Oh God, do that again.

A pair of warm hands rested on my hips from behind, exploring my thighs, my waist. A body shimmied close to me, alive and thrumming, it closed the gap and moved with me. I relaxed back into miraculous warmth, feeling the pressure against the length of my body. My hands lifted to behind my neck to feel the amazing sensation of fuzzy hair along my fingertips, and my nerve endings rejoiced.

Something niggled at me.

I turned around into the embrace of an unknown, dark-haired man. I laughed. “I don’t know you.”

A woman’s scowling face floated over his shoulder, and her aura stabbed towards the man groping my behind. She shouldn’t be sad, she should be happy—with him. I raised my hand and sent my energy flying into hers, sticking to its individual spark like glue. I tugged gently, coaxing, enticing and swirled her energy into the aura of the man in front of me. I made an aura cocktail. I giggled.

Best barmaid ever.

A charge exploded, filling the air, caressing my skin. I staggered backwards, away from the warm touch, then blinked. The girl and the dark haired man were kissing. I jumped and clapped my hands, whooping loudly. I’d done that! I’d made them kiss! My brain sloshed around my head and my arms rose of their own accord, higher and higher.

This is what it should all be about—loving each other. It seemed like an eternity passed in a minute, a minute of touching and dancing and thumping music. I swirled around in tingly weightlessness, pirouetting on my toes.

“La Roux.” A face floated into my vision. I knew that brooding face. Someone touched my shoulders. I looked down. Oh, they were his hands. I grinned. My skin felt great. It tingled from the inside. From the bone.

Fizz.

“My skin. My skin is effer-effer-va-vescing.” I laughed at my inability to say the word. “Can’t you feel that?”

I presented my arm to him. His big multi-colored eyes didn’t seem to understand me.

“Touch it,” I ordered. “Doesn’t it feel like sherbet?” I lifted my hair at the neck and sighed deeply, my eyes flickered to a close. “Ooh, I wonder if it tastes like sherbet.”

“La Roux.” His voice penetrated my revelry, and he squeezed my shoulders. Ow. He was mean. “Snap out of it.”

I opened my eyes. Why was he frowning? He should be happy. Grr. I frowned back and pouted then giggled. He was sad. I could fix sad. “Don’t let the elevator take you down,” I yelled over the music, then snorted at my joke.

“What?” he shouted over the music.

I needed to be heard. I drained some of the overflowing energy leaking off my friends and sent it into my voice. “YOU NEED TO BE HAPPY!” My voice boomed across the beach, sending shockwaves through every piece of furniture, every grain of sand, every atom.

Whoa—who’d said that? I stuck my finger in my ear, trying to reach my itchy eardrum and jiggled. The vibrations sent little pleasure waves radiating from my shoulders to my toes. I flung my hands out, smiling. They swooped around in slow motion to land on his wrists over my shoulder. Ah, light as a feather. My eyes widened at the sensation of skin on skin. Oh, that felt good. My skin wanted to peel off and float away. I ran my fingers up his contoured arms, reveling in his fuzziness.

“Oh, you feel good.” I swirled my thumbs in the hollow of his elbows and slid them up to his shoulders.

He blinked. Such lovely eyes, an eternity of starry, midnight skies reflected in muddy waters.

“I’m drawn to you, too,” I murmured.

“Where is she?” he asked and, just like that, he was mean again.

Where was who?

“You talk too much.” I giggled and pulled on the energy quivering above the crowd. I sucked it in and fire erupted in my veins. I cupped his startled face between my hands and planted my lips on him. The current flowed from my body into his and I felt it searching for an earth, something to ground my call. His life-force woke like a slumbering lion. It uncurled, stretched and roared, enticing a response from my own animal instinct. He grunted as our energies collided and he seized my waist. Fireworks exploded across the insides of my eyelids. Was kissing always like this?

I pulled back, panting, just a fraction from his hot mouth, our breaths mingling. His hot gaze pierced me, his fingers tightened around my middle, lancing pleasurable sensations down my arms. Yes, even the pain felt good. My lids fluttered, and I moaned, wanting more. His energy swirled into my body and I sent it back into him, through the gap between our mouths. More. We needed more. His eyelids lifted then dropped, he made a masculine sound deep in his throat, then lowered his lips back to mine and claimed me. The magnetic field between us snapped shut, our bodies slammed into each other.

I couldn’t get enough of him. His energy fired back at me, popping candy in my mouth. My hands tangled in his hair. He lifted me by the hips and I curled my legs around his waist as he ground into mine. He tasted like rain. The music drifted away, and it was just the two of us. The nerves beneath my stomach quivered.

But I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was giving him an energy boost, but he gave it right back, making me heady. I broke away, slid off of him and threw my face up to suck in the ocean air. His hot lips were on my neck, trailing from my ear down to my collarbone. My knees buckled, and he caught me. He planted one warm, wet kiss after another until he landed greedily in the hollow of my neck and suckled. Sparks flew from the moon.

Then he stilled, muscles coiled tight like a predator, ready to pounce.

“Don’t stop,” I moaned.

His lips stayed on my skin, but the connection fizzled. The world kept turning, but we were still. We were the axis. My skin felt cold as he drew breath. His fingers tightened on my flesh. Ow. The music distorted like a warped record playing. Sadness lapped at the edge of my mind. My eyes watered. No. I wanted to be happy, damn it!

“What did you do?” he accused.

The warmth in front of me dissipated, replaced by a draft of cool air and I staggered.

He was gone.

The people around me spun—faster and faster. I searched for a place to anchor myself so I didn’t lose the contents of my stomach. I found a familiar face topped with graying shoulder length hair. She scowled at me, then smiled. She had gray teeth. I should know her. I stepped forward.

The spot on the beach suddenly felt tiny, and the world closed in.

“Roo!” Someone called my name. I smiled weakly. He had a nice voice. I needed nice. A boy with shaggy hair and pain in his eyes shook my shoulders. “Probie!”

“Oh, my friend.” I grinned. Yes, I knew him. He was my friend, Tommy. The energy from the dancers became impenetrable. My lungs heaved. “You’re the bestest friend…” The words slurred, and I patted his cheeks. My mouth didn’t work and my lips were numb. He had such a nice face. I trailed my heavy fingers down his cheeks to run them across his satin lips. He pulled me through the bustling bodies.

“I wonder what you taste like. Your brother tasted like rain, or smelled like it.” I licked my lips and stumbled. “I think it was your brother… I dunno.” I chuckled. “You can’t taste like rain, that’s impossible.” I pulled him back to me and patted his face.

“It’s okay. I got you.” His lashes flared. “I’ll carry you if I have to.”

Uh, oh. He didn’t look happy. He needed to be happy. He grabbed my wrist and yanked me up, then dragged me forward, stumbling. His wild eyes flashed over his shoulder, reflecting the sparkling light behind me.

We left the sandy dance floor and headed into the dark. The dizziness ebbed from my mind with each step away from the crowd. The past few minutes fogged in my mind. I groaned, wincing as I touched my forehead. My head throbbed. We neared a wicker table setting on the perimeter where Cash sat hunched over with his head in his hands.

What was the matter with him?

The fresh air cleared my vision, but I felt like I’d been run over by a truck. I let go of Tommy and steadied myself on the back of a chair. The instant I let go, Tommy charged at his brother. He skirted the table, grabbed Cash by the shirt and hauled him off the chair, shaking him violently.

“What the fuck, Cash! You kissed her? Can’t you see she’s been drugged?” His voice sounded garbled. I tried to shake water out of my ears. Surely that’s why I couldn’t hear properly. I must have gone for a swim.

Just a minute—he said drugged. Was that why I felt so sick? The contents of my stomach churned. I could still feel the energy reaching out to me from the dance floor, pulsing and throbbing with life. It wanted me to go back in. It wasn’t drugs. It was life.

“Fuck off, Tommy.” Cash’s dark voice sounded husky, and I heard him slap his brother’s hands away. “She did something to me, not the other way around.”

Still leaning on the chair for support, I looked up. What had I done?

Tommy shoved him and Cash flipped backwards over his chair. With the quickness of a cat, he rolled to his feet. Tommy put his camera on the wicker table then he ran after Cash and shoved him again, face contorted in rage, veins popping.

“Stop it!” I called.

They ignored me and grappled, big hands grasping at each other. Sand exploded where they fell. Each rotation took them further into the darkness. Tommy wailed on his brother as though he held a demon inside. He threw punches and Cash deflected them.

I looked around for help. Despite the ruckus, nobody noticed us. They stayed mesmerized by the music. It was strange. The only explanation I could gather was that I must be in a nightmare. A twisted version of one of Leila’s recordings, or maybe my own.

“Hey!” I stumbled, barefoot, after the boys. I’d lost my shoes. The wind cooled my skin as it hit the sweat on my face and neck, and a shiver crept up my spine. I stopped and looked back at the dance floor. My aunt’s face stared at me from the boundary of the festival, with a serpentine smile.

Petra. We were supposed to capture Petra. But I’d screwed it up when I followed her through the dancing crowd. I looked back at the boys. We were wasting time.

Tommy shoved Cash into the sand and was rewarded with a punch in the ribs, a left hook, then another jab in the gut. I stood between Petra and the boys. “She’s here,” I screamed and waved my arms. “Hey!”

Cash’s eyes flicked to me, and he pushed his brother off like a bug. Tommy fell to the side and Cash jumped up with the grace of a wild predator. He scanned the shore until he found his target behind me. Then he raced towards me and whooshed passed, growling deep in his throat. He rushed at Petra, grabbed her head between his large hands and twisted sharply. A loud snap and she sagged to the ground.

My hand flew to my mouth. What the hell?

He’d killed her.

“What have you done?” Tommy rushed past me to his brother. “Aren’t you supposed to drown her? You told me you had to drown her—that’s what you said, right?”

“What the fuck do you know, Tommy?” Cash lashed.

My legs wobbled. What a cock-up. My ass hit the sand with a soft thud and I watched as Tommy berated his brother. They argued again but without fists, this time. Had we really taken her down?

The distance from the crowd had given me clarity, but I was more confused than ever. It didn’t make sense that Petra had allowed herself to be killed so easily. And why had she come back when she’d already gotten away?

I studied my knotted fingers in my lap. We’d been loud and visible. The boys had kicked up sand, pushed over tables and Cash had just killed a woman—a witch. But no one had noticed. They danced.

I watched the crowd. Some people drained wine from glasses around the tables, and the rest burned off recently consumed calories on the dance floor. What was wrong with them? The answer hit me like a freight train; the crowd was bewitched. It was the only answer. Urser Estate had supplied the wine and Petra probably hexed the selection, so the entire crowd would fall under her spell. No one would notice anything if she didn’t want them to.

She was too smart to be captured.

“Drag her to the ocean, quick,” Cash ordered Tommy. “Check her body. Is there a book?”

I watched them drag Aunt Lucy’s body towards the water’s edge wondering why the smell of Lavender grew stronger when her body was getting further away? Something wasn’t right.

Behind you!

Pain lanced through my head and I fell to the sand. Agony spread to my extremities. The shutters of my eyelids closed once, twice, and then everything faded to black.

Chapter 25

Darkness.

The tip of my nose tingled from the cold and my nostrils burned with a musty smell. The drip of water nearby set off a rhythmic echo. I was somewhere big, cold and hollow. I lay on my side on a damp, rocky floor and cried out when I rolled onto my back. My bones must have been removed because I found it difficult—no, scratch that—unbearable to move. I hurt all over.

I peeled my eyes open, one at a time and blinked in the dim haze. Thousands of white stalactites blurred into focus—spiky piranha teeth ready to chomp down. I sniffed, then winced. My chest hurt.

I was in a cave. What the hell had happened?

“You were dead. I checked your pulse, and you weren’t breathing. I thought she pushed you too hard, but there you are as pretty as ever,” a raspy voice slid through my consciousness. My head swiveled to locate its source. White-hot knives slashed through my neck and bile rose to the back of my throat.

I flexed my fingers and clenched my fists. The pain was receding. I was healing. I let my hands travel to my legs and bunched the denim. The fabric felt gritty, and crispy bits of something caught on my rough fingers. Probably dried blood. I pushed the tears away and concentrated on the drip, breathing to the beat. I can do this, I thought. But my body trembled.

The last thing I remembered, I was sitting on the sand, watching Cash and Tommy drag my aunt’s body into the ocean.

And the smell of Lavender.

It had been a trap. Petra must have switched bodies while I’d had my Woodstock moment.

Cash had killed the wrong witch. Perhaps a familiar.

I recalled bits and pieces of the evening and they were all horrific. I had no idea that a concentrated dose of life-force would fuddle me up so much. But no one had seemed to notice. Except Cash and Tommy. They saw it. Cash felt it, for crying out loud. The memory of the effervescent energy sent sparks of pleasure shooting into my body, quickly followed by an ache, a need. It had felt good, better than good—addictive. Was that how junkies felt?

I touched the throbbing spot on my head and winced. A warm sticky mess stuck to my fingers.

“She thinks I won’t say anything. She probably thought you were dead. But it’s you. It’s really you.”

I startled. Someone was there. My eyes searched the cave. The raspy voice hadn’t been in my head. It was real. I was in the dark part of a cave, and the voice came from outside. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust—it was daytime! I’d been out of it all night.

An emaciated shadow slumped against the rocky wall outside. It had a hairy, castaway look, fully bearded with raggedy clothes. His energy was weak, but erratic.

He groaned. “So hungry… oh, so hungry.”

I licked my own cracked lips. “Who are you?”

Hissing laughter echoed into the dark expanse of cave behind me. “Who am I? Who is anyone, anymore?”

Using one skinny, deformed arm after the other, he dragged himself to the cave’s entrance. His laborious process added to his sinister demeanor as his weak limbs scraped across the rocks.

“It’s who I was that might interest you more,” he said. “Three years is a long time to be stuck in a cave.”

He hummed a familiar tune through shriveled lips, chuckling occasionally as though the song was a big joke.

I knew those eyes.

Neurones fired in my brain, scrambling to put together the jumbled information: the familiar brown eyes and haunting tune; he’d been stuck in the cave for three years; and he knew me.

He laughed with a mouth full of holes where teeth should have been, smacking his gums and spraying spit into the air. As if a choir of mad men sat behind me, the cave amplified and echoed his hyena cackle. I turned away to cover my ears but with every vibration, my heart surged. It pumped faster, beating against my rib cage and knocking between my lungs. My pain lessened. Like a receding storm, the agony faded to a cool breeze. The fast circulation had assisted my healing.

Note to self—for super-fast healing, scare the shit out of self.

I flexed my arms and toes finding little pain then sat up and eyed off the stranger. His eyes bored through me from under wiry brows. Sensing the weakness in his aura, I felt I had the advantage. His energy danced all over the place, but it was frail. It gave me the confidence to stiffly move into a crouch and dart past the mad man, wincing at the rocky floor under my feet. He scuttled past me like a hermit crab. Now we had traded places, he in the cave’s shadows, and me in the opening. I stood at the bottom of a hole surrounded by a rocky cliff face that reached forty or so feet to a forest above. Dappled sunshine blinked through the trees, showing the first pale pink of a sunset. I’d lost an entire day stuck in that hole. The smell of eucalyptus did nothing to calm my nerves, nor did the early evening bird calls. The trees encircling the top of the hole swirled in a sudden breeze and made me dizzy. I braced my hand against the rough wall.

Ew, fucking gross. Sticky spider webs. I suppressed the urge to scream and whimpered instead. I hated spiders.

I turned back to the man and studied him while he seemed to examine me. A crow cawed from above and a flutter of leaves fell as it took to the sky.

“She knows you’re alive now. The bird will tell her.”

“What?”

The mad man sang with a squeaky voice. He patted his bloated tummy to the beat and looked at me sideways, then kept singing… lyrics to the Prince song, When Doves Cry.

He couldn’t possibly know I liked that artist. It was a coincidence, a mad coincidence, or perhaps I still dreamed.

You’re not dreaming.

But his voice sounded familiar, too. I stared and slowly lowered to a squat.

No.

Recognition flooded me.

“Oh, no. Shit! Steve?” I whispered through slitted fingers.

His lips curved into a gummy smile and he gave me a half-hearted flourish. “In the flesh.” He looked down at his skin and bones. “Well, sort of.”

That sent him into a new tirade of high-pitched laughter echoed by his choir of mad men.

“I thought you were dead. We all thought you’d jumped off a cliff, and…” I rubbed my neck, thinking about the collar. Fury engulfed me. “Everyone thought it was my fault! I nearly burned.”

Steve. Stuck at the bottom of a forty-foot cave, hundreds of kilometers away from where he disappeared. For three years?

“How are you here?” I asked.

“It’s all your fault. I don’t know how I ever loved you. I’ve been missing you, loving you all this time and the first thing you do is blame me for your pain? Well, I got news for you Roo-Roo. This is all because of you.” He jabbed his bony finger at me and it felt like he stabbed me straight through the heart.

Shame stole my guilt. He was right. He’d been stuck in a hole for three years, and the first thing I thought of was myself.

What a fucking bitch.

The GPS signal on my anklet blinked and my spirits lifted. Maybe they would find me. I snorted. Who? I’d offended Tommy, violated Cash’s trust and screwed up the whole operation. Why would they come looking for me? I yanked off my GPS anklet and turned the smooth surface over in my hands. I didn’t deserve to be found. My friendship had almost killed Alvin, my sister was pretty much dead, and now Aunt Lucy was too. I could have killed Cash with my spontaneous injection of energy. Who did I think I was, God? I glanced to my left. And, the only loving boyfriend I’d ever had was withering away in front of me. He didn’t deserve it.

“I’m so sorry, Steve.” A rush of air escaped my lips. “It’s all my fault, I’m a waste of space.”

I hurled the GPS anklet against the rocky wall, screaming with all my might. It bounced off and landed on the ground unharmed. Argh! I couldn’t even do that right. On instinct, I shot a bolt of concentrated energy from my fingers at the GPS tracker and watched it disintegrate into a thousand bits of rubbery dust. Whoa. I blinked, surprised at my accuracy.

It’s better for everyone that I stay off the radar. First, I’d get out of there and return Steve to his family. Then, I’d—

“Wait,” I interrupted my own thought. “Did Petra put you in this hole three years ago?” I thought Petra had arrived in town just before she attacked me at the bar, but maybe not.

“I haven’t always been in this hole,” he said.

“How long have you been here?”

“Long enough to think you look pretty tasty right now.” He looked at me with hunger in his eyes, and it wasn’t the sexual kind.

Oh boy, how would I explain to Steve’s psycho, witch-hating parents that I had nothing to do with this? They were right, I was the spawn of evil. I braced my hand on the wall and bowed my head. I should’ve burned.

“Where is Petra now?” I whispered.

“Why did you leave me?” Steve groaned and grabbed his stomach. He struggled to the cave’s entrance and sat, rolling his head from side to side.

He croaked out a few more verses of When Doves Cry.

Oh Steve. He’d been the best looking guy in the neighborhood, and I’d had a secret crush on him all through high school. Two years after graduation, I’d bumped into him at a nightclub and everything changed. We’d bonded over our mutual disdain for our parents, and he’d treated me like a princess. I thought I was in love. But then we’d had sex. And then he wouldn’t let go of me even if that meant keeping me by force.

“Steve, tell me how this happened to you.”

“She came to me one night and said she could make you love me again. I believed her. But then… she locked me away. I was in darkness for a long time. She would come all sweetness and sugar, asking questions about you, always with the questions: who are your friends, what food do you like, what do you like to wear?” His liquid eyes fastened on me. “She wanted to know everything.”

I’d put down Aunt Lucy’s progressive sickness to her smoking, but Petra must have possessed her body for years. It made sense, Petra had kidnapped Steve and made it look like his disappearance was my fault. She didn’t want to kill me; she wanted my secrets, but she needed more time. So she orchestrated a witchcraft accusation. With the lack of evidence, I was ensured probation and a collar. My mind reeled. Had she known I was Nephilim and the collar would block my aura sensing capabilities?

When I told her I was moving out, she must have freaked. My aunt’s body was failing, and so she transferred into Leila. But when she first attacked me at The Cauldron, she acted as though she’d never met me. Had that been a ruse or was she just systematically ruling out all the things I was not?

No. I shook my head. There was more to it. She’d dumped me in this cave, something that would have killed anyone else, but Nephilim, Players—we all healed fast, so our bodies could handle the souls of gods. Only one thing remained consistent. She wanted to exchange blood with me.

I turned to Steve. “Has she mentioned she wants my blood?”

Steve opened his mouth, but was cut off when someone launched a pebble at his head. “Shut up, Steve.” A childish voice cut through the air from somewhere above. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

An explosion of squawks came from above and we looked up to see a row of crows gawking with beady eyes. I ducked as another pebble whipped from the trees to hit Steve on the head. He whimpered, scuttling deeper into the darkness.

I looked up. Leaves rustled on a fern as a small body retreated from the ledge. I noticed a twisted and warped aura and recalled the little boy at the festival who’d snapped at Petra.

“Hello?” I called. “Who’s there?”

A crow squawk answered me and I shivered. Those birds weren’t natural.

“Steve, who else is here?”

Steve was silent, cowering in the shadows. The thought of him clearly in pain tugged at my heartstrings. I had a role to play in this, a responsibility to see it right. “Steve, I can help you get better. Please tell me when Petra is coming back, and we can make sure you’re all fixed and ready get out of here with me. Then you can go home to your parents. They’re in town you know, they’ve missed you.”

He shuffled closer. I couldn’t see his features in the twilight. “That’s what she said too. She’s been saying it for three years. At least, that’s how long I think it’s been. I stopped counting.” He held up his arms. Fine silvered lines marred his skin from wrist to shoulder. He’d scratched a calendar into his flesh. He shuffled forward, ready to hear more.

“Let me help you,” I crouched and reached out to him.

“Don’t you get it?” He shirked back. “I just want it to end. I keep trying but they keep bringing me back. Can you let me die?”

I palmed my sockets and shook my head.

“Kill me, Roo. Make sure I’m dead. Agree to this and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.” His pale tongue flicked out to lick his lips, then he reached for me, skeletal fingers imprinting on my arms. My skin sang when our bodies connected, I could feel his pain sliding down to connect with me like a waterfall, and it stole my breath away. “Send my soul to a better place, please, Roo-Roo.”

I nodded, and he dropped his weak hold on me. I was the cause of his pain, and it made me want to do whatever he wanted. I wished a healing hex would work, but wasn’t sure his body could regrow teeth and untwist bones. It could end up being another form of torture. If killing him was the best thing I could do for him, then so be it. I nodded again, more sure of myself this time, then wiped my eyes. Toughen up, princess.

“Petra has been possessing Aunt Lucy’s body for the last three years hasn’t she?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Who is that kid up there?”

“It’s her Grimoire. I don’t like him, he’s mean.” He cowered behind his hands. “Don’t let him near me.”

The nurse, Sabina, had spoken about a Grimoire, but she’d said it was a book. Cash also wanted a book.

“How can a book of spells be a person?” I asked.

“She altered his DNA so he wouldn’t age and then infused him with all of her secrets. That’s how she’s been taunting me all these years, saying—”

“Shut up, Steve.” The little voice was higher pitched, this time. “I swear to God if you say anything, I’ll kill you myself.”

Debris fell down and landed on my head, loose leaves and dried twigs. I tried to brush it off, but it tangled in my hair. The boy peered at us over the ledge, waving his little fist. When he saw me, he scurried out of sight.

“Don’t let him near me, please.” Steve scrambled out of his spot to clutch me like a child. He hid behind my legs and buried his face into the fabric of my jeans. “I’ll tell you everything, please. She’s working for someone else, but she wanted you all to herself. You pissed her off, and she tried to kill you.” His fingers dug into me. “But you survived. She’ll come back.”

I detangled his hands so I could see him better, but his aura had remained steady as he spoke. Steve was telling the truth. Dread dropped heavily onto my chest. “Who is Petra working for Steve?”

Tears streaked his cheeks. He opened his mouth to speak—

A crack echoed through the forest and the cave. Steve’s chest exploded, spraying me with a warm sticky mess. The birds added to the bedlam, screeching and fluttering. I spluttered and tried to breathe without sucking in drops of blood.

Steve’s energy dissipated into nothingness.

I grasped his falling body, searching for his energy source, but it was gone.

“NO!” I cried, wetness sliding down my cheeks. “Steve.”

His body slipped to the ground, blood streaming until he was empty.

A surge in the energy above pulled at me and my head snapped up to see the kid. His arms dangled over the precipice, holding a gun. He turned away but, even in the dark, I caught the grin and the way it puffed up his cheeks. He did it, and he was happy.

I backed away from the mess at my feet. A familiar pressure grew inside of me and my senses ignited. I heard everything: the dripping water; the rustling trees; and the child’s breath as he snickered above. Heat rose like lava and bubbled to my extremities. It hit my fingers and kept going, pouring out of the tips. I pointed at the kid and the current zoomed from my febrile body until its invisible claws embedded in him, and then I clenched, grabbing hold. I pulled.

The brat struggled and his face grew blotchy. He grasped at the ferns, trying desperately to avoid what waited for him in the pit—me. I pulled harder. I didn’t care that he was human. I didn’t even care that he was young. I only cared that he was part of Petra’s depraved plan and that he’d killed Steve.

The crows dropped from their branch to scream at me, hopping next to the boy in a wild panic and inflaming me to bursting point. I released more. My muscles tightened, ready to snap, and the pain made me want to scream. Instead, I heaved until I stumbled back and, with a sudden lack of resistance, the little devil fell from his perch. His body bounced off the rocky walls and landed with a sickening, wet thud at my feet. The crows took flight, leaving me in a cocoon of silence.

Arctic air rushed into my lungs and I choked, gulping. My hands scrunched the thin fabric of my camisole at my chest. Trickles of stickiness ran down my face, sweat mixed with old blood. My eyes glazed over as I stared at the small body. It twitched. The kid’s twisted life-force hadn’t left yet. It was holding on.

Such a shame, all that knowledge going to waste. The voice slipped in through the cracks of my fragile mind. I tried to shake it off and failed. If you taste him, you can have all of that power for yourself. Knowledge is power. Aren’t you thirsty?

Chapter 26

I stared at the boy until my eyes clouded over, then ran my tongue over my lips and tasted blood. It held an inviting tingle, a buzz of residual power. The voice in my head had spoken the truth. I could level the playing field. Cash needed that knowledge.

Taste.

The word bounced around my skull. Petra wanted to taste me, to know the truth. I could feel the boy’s essence oozing away, slipping like slime through the cracks in his body. I pushed down on his shoulder and pulled his head back by the hair to expose a delicate neck. I lowered my mouth. My teeth were razor blades sliding past salty skin. I felt no resistance—had my teeth sharpened with my subconscious need? Warm, coppery liquid flowed past my lips. My taste buds surged and my insides zinged. I connected with his body and I connected with his soul. My eyes fluttered, wanting to close, but I kept them open, watching my actions. As my insides sang, my brain rebelled. I knew it was wrong, but my body wanted it, ached for more.

I tried to focus on the lavender scent of his skin, and pinned my gaze on the sand behind his head, counting the grains until I became aware of dark symbols floating to the surface of his skin. They crawled onto mine. With my mouth still on his neck, I cradled him and, in a semi-detached state, contemplated the markings. They looked like hieroglyphic insects scuttling up my arms until they settled on my own skin. The pieces twitched and turned, trying to find a home. Were they waiting for me to finish? I drank and drew on his energy until there was nothing left of him and the symbols covered every inch of my skin.

I worried for the sanctity of my soul, only hoping this would make things right with Cash.

With the last atom of his aura safely inside me, I heard a whispered, Thank you for releasing me in my mind. Then a comprehension slammed into my consciousness with the force of a supernatural tidal wave. I lost hold of the boy and crashed backwards into the rocky wall. My head cracked and pain radiated down my spine. I convulsed, gasping for air.

Knowledge coursed through my body with a white-hot heat. Fast-forward patterns and visions danced behind my eyelids, cinematic memories that were not mine played, over and over. The thrum of a live-wire pinged down into my bones. I eventually calmed my breathing and, while I still tingled, inspected the blotchy alien skin on my hands as the symbols slowly dissolved. They became random skin lesions, then dark clouds churning in a stormy sky, and then there were none. The buzzing in my body faded, and I was left with an urge to vomit.

Blood.

I looked at the corpses in front of me and options to alter their DNA immediately materialized in my brain. Suddenly I knew that, while the body was still warm, it would respond to certain manipulations. I could make it move. Necromancy. I buried my face in my knees, trying to block out the visions.

Mutilated bodies marched across my vision: piles of arms, legs, and genitalia. It was the little shop of horrors. Sewn together were creatures born of evil, never living for long but alive, nonetheless. Horns on a human head, scales on a horse and wings on a mouse. Arms, legs, children, insects. Human body parts on animals. I rolled to the side and heaved, bringing up half the blood I’d just swallowed. When I saw the foaming mess, I vomited until my head pounded. When I could breathe again, I scrambled away.

You’ll never outrun the visions.

“Shut up.” I groped around with my hands, somehow realizing that I could change my vision to something like a bat’s and see more clearly. Not vision, precisely—echolocation. It seemed like I’d swallowed life’s instruction manual. Information and images bounced around in my head, making complete sense, while a few minutes before, they would’ve sounded insane.

More like Petra’s instruction manual. You know, she experimented on dolphins once.

“Stop!” I screamed, blocking my ears, and huddling into a crouch. What had I done? I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to be a monster like Petra.

And you think I wanted it? I don’t even want this. I thought you released me.

My head snapped up. For a panicked moment I thought the boy was still alive. But the sound came from the deepest part of my mind. And then I really freaked. I hyperventilated until black spots became rainbows and swirled around my vision. He was inside me, the boy was inside me. I hadn’t just swallowed his knowledge; I’d swallowed his entire soul.

He’s not the only one.

That’s right. The witch, when I was a baby. There were two of them inside me. Holy fuck. Blood roared in my ears and more visions came. I knew how to bend human DNA to my will and, it seemed, I could alter more than humans. The visions of Petra’s gory game flickered in my head, I could almost hear her cackle. But it was a memory—whose I couldn’t tell.

I groaned. “When will it stop?”

Silence.

“Answer me!”

I bit my lip and tears fell. I cried for my sanity, for my friends, and for my future. I missed my mother and wanted her arms around me. I’d never before ached for her embrace so deeply. I wanted the hugs, the safety, the warmth and the kisses. I didn’t want to be alone. I sobbed silently, my body shaking from a need so deep that no sound could climb out.

I don’t know how long I sat there. The white noise in my ears and disturbing visions slowed and eventually faded to black. The memories distanced themselves and fatigue rolled over me. I’d have fallen asleep if not for the cold night air prickling at my skin, making my teeth chatter.

Petra would be back soon. I had to get out. But I was tired. My shoulders slumped, heavy. I was so tired.

“Well, I can’t say I expected this, love.”

“Marc?” I blinked at the moonlit shadows, actually feeling relief.

He took one look at me and gasped. In a flicker, a dark business suit replaced his nakedness. He wore the face of his older, suave version, stubble dappled his strong chin, and something I hadn’t seen before glittered in his blue eyes. Fear? Concern? His brow furrowed as he approached, smoothing his hair from his forehead.

“Little Red, you’re going to wake the neighborhood with all that noise in your aura. You need to power down, love,” he said softly and touched his finger to my cheek. His touch was warm, and I relaxed into his hand. His eyes darted around the bloody scene. “I suppose they had it coming, yeah?” He lowered himself to my level and cupped my face in his hands, moving my head from side to side, then let go.

“Don’t look at me,” I said through my fingers.

“Why ever not?”

“Because I’m a monster.”

“Not that I care, but you’re not a monster. You’re not human either.” He pulled my hands away from my face. “I know this must come as a shock to you—the power and the strange sensations. But you aren’t alone. There are many others like you, well, not exactly like you, but with abilities that can’t be explained to the general population. You have your mentor, the Samson boy, and if your father had trained you properly, you wouldn’t be in this mess. I’m talking about the ignorance, not the literal bloodshed. Like I said, I don’t care how you play your Game, that’s your own business.” He looked puzzled. “You’ve completed your partnership ritual with Cash, yeah?”

“Uh—no.” I looked away.

“Oi!” He grabbed my chin and tugged my face toward him. “I fancy you, Little Red. You’re well fit, and a right laugh sometimes—a breath of fresh air, really. But the point is, I’d rather not have to cancel your existence here. When I said you had forty-eight hours to make your decision, I meant it. You need to connect with Samson immediately. If you don’t, it may be wise to find a weapon to protect yourself from the alternative. I can’t ignore it for much longer. You’ll sort it out when you get back, yeah?”

“What’s the alternative?”

“Your father—or me.”

He stood, looked around and rubbed his hands together. “Right. What’s all this, eh? What happened?”

“I’m so sorry Marc, I… I didn’t kill that one, only that one.” I almost laughed at the absurdity of my words. But shame washed over me at the sight of the dead boy. “Holy shit, I just killed a kid.” My head fell to my hands again. And I’d drunk his blood and absorbed his life-force. I retched into my hands, but nothing came out.

“That twat wasn’t a kid.” Marc snorted in disgust. “He was an abomination, he was. Just another reason why these sodding witches need to be eliminated. You did the world a favor if you ask me, which you didn’t, but I’ll tell you, anyway.” He nudged the body with his foot. “He looks like an old geezer, but he can’t be more than ten years old, yeah?”

“Yeah, he is—was—Petra’s Grimoire.”

Marc’s head jerked up. “Bollocks.”

“She kept him young so she could stash her knowledge in his DNA. It’s in mine now. I…” I took a deep breath, struggling to let the words out of my mouth. If I said it aloud, it would be true. “I think I swallowed his soul. He’s in me.” And then like an avalanche, it all came rushing out. I told him about Steve, about using my powers to pull the boy down, drinking his blood, the strange glyphs that crawled up my arms, even me absorbing the witch when I was a baby. I told him everything.

Except the voices. I wasn’t ready to admit that to myself.

“Are you sure you’re telling me everything?” Marc cleared his throat, nervous.

“Yes,” I said and avoided eye contact to calm my inner energy, in case it betrayed my lie. I knew Marc could sense auras like me.

“Hmph. In that case, I know what you are.”

“What—what am I?” Fairy princess? Something made of sugar and spice and all things nice?

“A Soul-Eater.”

Guess not.

“You feed off the life-force of others. We haven’t seen one of you in this world for generations. In fact, it’s suspicious that you’re here at all. At the start of the revolution—when the Prince took the Earth from the Queen—your kind were used to maintain order, like peacekeeping soldiers. But as a Soul-Eater’s nature is so out of balance with the universe, taking, never giving, most of your kind regressed or devolved into insignificance. I’m not sure that you will be well received.”

“Gee, that sounds swell.”

“Don’t interrupt. On one hand, you will be feared for your disregard of the natural order—on the other, you’ll be in high demand for your ability to sway the Game. It would certainly explain how you took more of my essence than I’d allowed, and it would also explain your ability to take on the nature of the soul you absorbed as your own. As to how you managed to oust the planned inhabitant of your own body, someone helped with that. And I mean to find out who. Soul-Eaters aren’t that clever, yeah?”

His words slapped me in the face, hard.

Soul-Eater. Devolving. Regressing. Insignificant. High demand. Not that clever. They bounced around my brain. No matter how tightly I held my hands over my ears, the words wouldn’t sit still. My chest ached, and I wanted to hide under a rock, or crawl into the darkness of the cave and never come out.

A slice of me rebelled at the label he’d given me. “But if Soul-Eaters aren’t part of the natural order, then it’s not possible to fix the Game for myself. My only result would be to regress in the after world. It doesn’t make sense. Why would I steal my place in this world, then rampage and gorge on souls if I’d just wither away when my Game is finished?”

“Oh my sweet, you misunderstood. You’ll be used to sway the Game for others, not yourself. Eliminating rivals, Simons, that sort of thing. Traditionally, Soul-Eaters aren’t very smart, so they make good slaves. You were probably conned into stealing that body in the before.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Although, you don’t look stupid. You seem to have all your marbles, yeah? It doesn’t add up, you’re right.”

“Who is Simon?” I asked.

“Simple Simons, love. It’s what we gods call the human pawns. You’ll get used to all the terminology once you’re at the Ludus.”

I groaned. “And what’s a Ludus?”

He sighed. “You need to connect with your mentor, do the ritual, then he can start teaching you. Ludus is another name for game in Latin. It’s also the name of our training institution. There’s one on every major continent. It’s like Switzerland—neutral territory for Players to train, learn, socialize, etcetera. I’m not saying any more. I’ve already overstepped the boundaries of my role. I’m supposed to be impartial, but I find myself opening up to you when I shouldn’t.” His jaw snapped shut with a click and he turned back to the dead boy’s body. “You say you had symbols—glyphs—creep up your arms from his. Describe them to me.”

I did my best to relay the shapes, even drawing one in the sand.

Marc smeared it into blurred lines. “Those symbols are from the Egyptian Book of the Dead.”

Another book. Was it the one Cash needed?

Marc’s jaw clenched. “She shouldn’t have that kind of knowledge. It’s too powerful. The book wasn’t always called that. It originally came from the Queen and contained secrets of her experiment here on earth. It was entrusted to a select few generations before they were cast out of paradise. No witch should have this knowledge. It shows the way back to our home and the metaphysical requirements to get there. Perhaps we have a traitor in our midst.”

“But, isn’t that book all over the world in a bunch of museums? It can’t be that secret.”

His eyes were lightning and his energy crackled. My tongue tingled at his power display.

“Not the real one,” he said and smoothed his hair from his eyes and over his head. He grabbed my chin and directed my gaze to his scrutinizing eyes. “You feel different. What did you do?” His energy gently pulsed at me. Testing. The last time he did that, I remembered it being a little overwhelming—dizzying even, but now it seemed negligible.

“I told you. I absorbed his essence,” I said.

“But your signature is different—stronger. The same, but also changed so you could almost be a different person.” He let go and stood back.

Ha! Two different people. The two souls inside me spoke with one voice. No wait, three people, if you include yourself. It was four, but she gave herself up when you fell into the cave so you could live. A life for a life.

I steadied myself on the wall. Did they just say I used the life of one soul to keep myself alive? The first thing Steve had said to me was that he couldn’t find a pulse. So whose soul had I taken?

Put it this way, it wasn’t the first time she gave you life.

I covered my mouth. The voices were wrong. But as the thought formed, so did another—the memory of my dream where my mother had been arguing with the witch. Maybe it hadn’t been a dream, but an insight to the passengers inside my body? What if, when I was a baby, I’d taken my mother’s soul as well as the witch’s? I tried to stop the sobs that jerked my shoulders. I used the life-force of my mother to recharge my…

“Oi, love. You listening to me? I asked if you can read the glyphs?”

My insides slowly turned numb.

“Are you—oh, I’ve seen that face before. It happens when a young one is about to snap. Listen, I’ll give you the best piece of advice I can. Play the hand you’ve been dealt, yeah? You can’t change who you are, or what you were born with. But you can decide what to do with your gifts. Control your controllables and accept the rest. You haven’t even touched on crazy yet. Wait until you get to the Ludus.”

The hand I’d been dealt. I was a female, with fewer rights than men. I had the abilities of a witch and ate souls so I could store them up and use them like a cat with nine lives. Then when I’d run out of souls to steal, I’d really die and devolve into oblivion. I had to face this head-on—like Cash. He’d started hunting to make his father’s death worth something. If my suspicion was correct, my mother gave her life for me, twice. I couldn’t let that be in vain.

“Love. The glyphs?”

“Uh… right…” My voice trailed off as I searched my brain for answers. I rifled through memories until I spotted the hieroglyphs, but meaning slipped through my grasp like water through fingers. The more I tried, the harder it was to catch. My head hurt. “Something’s blocking me from seeing the them.”

“Good, keep it that way. Plausible deniability. Don’t tell anyone about this.” His eyes dashed around the area, lifting briefly to view the opening of the pit. “Don’t suppose we’ll get you out that way, yeah?”

Even with what I knew about telekinesis and DNA cell mutation, it wouldn’t get me out of a deep cave with my depleted energy. With a few changes to my body, I could navigate the walls myself, but the thought of deforming my own body made me shudder. I didn’t care if I had to die here.

That might take a while with two of us in reserve.

I jumped when Marc clapped his hands and held one out to me.

“Right-O then, love. I’m going to go out on a limb here and hope you remember it one day when push comes to shove. Your town’s gone a bit barmy and lives are in danger. The quickest way back is through the in-between—my dimension. Nobody else on this planet, not even other gods are able to walk freely with me. It’s my own personal triumph over evolution. However, based on your particular adaptive skills, and the fact that you still wear my essence like perfume, I think you’ll survive this way of travel.”

“You think?” I squeaked, still wired from the energy intake. Marc’s news hadn’t helped calm my nerves. Hmm, let’s see, enter the multi-dimensional “in-between” with him to save lives, or starve here in a forty-foot pit? With my body’s ability to regenerate and the spare souls, it would be a slow death.

“You can’t tell anyone about this. Samson will be apprised, but he’s the only soul from the Queen’s Empire I trust on this planet,” he said, then mumbled under his breath, “May she reign forever.”

I nodded and held out my hand, retracting it at the last second.

“Does this favor require something in return?”

His face split into a mischievous grin. “Nothing can get by you, Little Red. Let’s just say you will owe me a favor of similar magnitude, a boon of sorts.” He wiggled his outstretched fingers. “And of course, this never happened. I am the Gamekeeper, you are a Player—well, almost. There are consequences for meddling in the natural order of things.”

“But, I’m not registered.”

“Exactly.”

I felt like Princess Jasmine about to take Aladdin’s hand on a magic carpet ride, except, I didn’t think the adventure sparkling in his eyes was a shining, shimmering splendor. “Do I have a choice?”

“Right now, you’re on this planet, in a Nephilim body. You always have a choice that’s the beauty of it.”

Chapter 27

I placed my hand in Marc’s and sank into the warmth of his powerful arms. With my free arm curled around his waist, it felt like we were about to dance. I buried my face in his chest and took a deep breath of fresh forest air. I couldn’t smell him. He felt as solid as a rock, yet my nose said he was part of the surrounding environment. I closed my eyes and held on.

Marc tensed. He stroked my hair.

“Oh, love,” he whispered, kissing the top of my head.

I stiffened slightly at his amorous behavior. “Are you sure this is going to work?” I mumbled into his chest. “I don’t want to dissolve into nothingness.”

“Focus on my energy. Let it envelope you, connect with you, and be one with you.” Marc guided me to the far side of the pit, rotating us so we had a clear view of the two bodies. “Failing that, buckle up for a jolly good ride. Just one more thing we need to do before legging it out of here.” He flicked his wrist and flames crackled, consuming the corpses. Heat wafted over our faces. “That should do it.”

With memories from the Grimoire twinkling in the darkest parts in my mind, it vaguely registered that I could make fire, too.

Marc drew me in close, tango style. “Maybe, it’s best if you keep your eyes closed for this, yeah?”

I buried my face in his chest again and squeezed my eyes shut. Think about his aura, become one with his energy. Pfft, yeah right. All I could think of was the sound and smell of burning flesh and his hand on my ass. His grip tightened, and he pressed his body to mine. In a dizzying second, his energy engulfed me, vibrating my core and rattling my teeth.

Everything went silent, like we were in a vacuum. Would there even be air? I took a tentative breath. There was. I waited for something to happen, but it didn’t. Why? I mean, entering a different dimension with a three dimensional body—I could implode or something, right? I imagined my body collapsing in on itself. Still nothing. I tapped my toes. Marc squeezed my rump, and I jumped.

“Touch my ass again and I’ll… humph. Are we there yet?” I asked, my voice muffled in his chest. It was devoid of shirt fabric and covered with satiny smooth skin. I wrenched my head back and saw a dressing table with the photo of myself, Leila and my father. Beyond that was the interior of my bedroom at the Cottage. I glanced down, I was naked, he was naked. Our hips still pressed together.

“Oops. I should’ve mentioned the occupational hazard—always wind up starkers.” He gave me a mock surprised expression and then his eyes darkened. “Since we’re here, together in nature’s finest… why don’t we pick up where those dreams left off, yeah?”

He licked a spot under my ear.

“Uh!” I punched him in stomach. “Next time it’s your balls.” As he recovered from my attack, I rushed to grab my purple bedspread and wrapped it around me. “You knew about my dream?”

“Please don’t punch my goolies,” he said in a strangled voice. “Yes, love, dreams are how I communicate to the masses. You want another one?”

The enormity of his power pushed at me. I sat on the bed. He really was a god; he could travel through time and space, communicate through dreams and make fire. No wonder people in ancient times worshiped him.

Marc stepped closer. I held up my hand.

“You have the worst possible sense of timing. What’s with that? Seriously, this better not be your idea of a favor returned,” I said, wanting to crawl under the bed. “Where are my clothes?”

He shrugged. “Inorganic matter cannot travel through the dimensions, love. And as for timing? It makes no difference to me. I can’t die and I bend it to my will.” In a sudden move, he stepped back and his hands covered his genitals. He studied me through slitted eyes. “I’d almost forgotten; you’re a Soul-Eater.”

“Roo?” Tommy’s voice thundered from somewhere in the house.

I turned toward the door. When I looked back, Marc was gone. I scrunched my bedspread tighter around me as Tommy barreled into the room.

“Christ! You’re okay.” He looked tired. His hair was a mess. The skin around one eye had yellowed and healing scrapes stretched across his mouth. But his other eye was freshly swollen as though he’d caught a recent punch to the face. How long had I been gone?

He reached me in two giant strides and immersed me in his embrace. I screwed up my nose at the ashtray smell clinging to his gray checked shirt.

He pushed me away to examine me. “I can’t believe you’re here… I thought—never mind what I thought—are you okay?”

I flattened my lips and nodded.

He took in a deep breath, and a good amount of tension left his shoulders, then he pulled me in for an embrace and dipped his head to rest on my shoulder.

“Tommy, I’m okay. Sorry about the barbecue. I wasn’t in my right mind.” I patted him awkwardly with one hand, the other clutched my blanket. His body trembled with emotion and a replay of Steve’s untimely death and my vampiric tendency flickered through my head. I stepped back. “I’m sorry, I must be a mess. I need to shower. I need to get all this off.”

Tommy’s eyes raced down my body and squeaked, “The blanket?”

“No, the blood and grime. I can’t stand it.”

“Probie, you ain’t dirty. You look as fresh as a new born baby’s butt.”

I hurried to the en-suite mirror. The person staring back at me was not the girl I’d expected. Her skin was milky white, her hair long and brown. She had my honey-colored eyes, so it was me. But the red hair and lips were gone. My fingers inspected my face, prodding and poking. It felt like me, but I looked the same as I had when I was a teenager. All traces of clothing, blood, sweat or tears had gone, my recent history wiped. I lumbered back to the bedroom in a daze.

“Did you come through the window?” Tommy asked, scratching his head, eyes stuck on my blanket. “Your hair… and, why are you dressed like that?”

“Marc found me,” I mumbled. “I thought you knew that. Didn’t Cash send him?”

Tommy’s features darkened, and he paced, moving in and out of the doorway.

“That damn pervert? He did this? Did he…” His voice trailed off, but the intention was clear from the way his eyes swiped my blanket. “If he laid a finger on you, Roo, I swear to God, I’ll break his head off, and shove it up his Pommy ass.”

He rattled off a few more obscenities and something about Cash’s frame of mind for having a friend as unstable as Marc.

“Marc didn’t kidnap me. It was Petra. Marc brought me back.”

“But she’s dead. I saw her drowned with my own eyes.”

“She’s not dead. The witch you killed was a decoy. Petra tried to kill me, but I survived.”

Tommy stumbled past me to the wardrobe, pulled out an empty suitcase and lumped it on the bed. He fidgeted with the zip, then paused without looking up. “Roo, there’s something I need to tell you. While you were gone, something happened to Miss. Kitty.”

He continued to open the zip.

My world spun and the room suddenly felt smaller. Kitty? I thought Marc said it was just the people from town going crazy—barmy was his word.

Kitty’s a person from town.

“What happened?” I grabbed Tommy’s hand. He pulled it to his chest. The ferocity of his action startled me and I almost lost my blanket.

“Come home with me,” he said. “We could be in the air by tomorrow night. It’s all gone to shit anyway, ever since Cash showed his darn face at The Cauldron. Everything was fine and dandy before that.” His glassy eyes searched my face. “We had a good time—no witches, no goddamn perverts, no Inquisitor. Let Cash do his job. He can handle the crisis—it’s what he does. You can come home with me. You’ll be safe and I’ll be your guardian.”

My blood was ice.

“Tommy,” I said. “What happened to Kitty?”

He dropped my hand, yanked open a drawer and threw handfuls of clothes into the suitcase. “The Police are there. They’ll take care of it. They don’t need us, Roo.”

“Tommy!”

He looked up, his chin trembling. “She’s been taken hostage at The Cauldron. She and some other women. He’s fixin’ to burn the whole thing down with them in it.”

He emptied an entire drawer into the case.

Kitty. I dropped onto the edge of my bed. I couldn’t let this happen to her. Marc’s words came to mind: “Play the hand you’ve been dealt. Control your controllables, accept the rest.” I couldn’t control what had already happened, but I could stop what hadn’t. That was it then. I reached over and rifled through the suitcase for something to wear.

Tommy grabbed my hand and pulled it out. “There’s something else, Roo. Your sister is missing.”

“What?”

He pulled a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and fiddled with the flip. Why wasn’t he looking at me? And then I knew. Petra had returned for Leila’s body.

“I’m getting dressed,” I said curtly and ducked into the shelter of the walk-in robe. I slipped on a white shirt and pulled a clean pair of jeans over my hips. “Then we’re going to find Kitty and bring her home. What day is it?” I called and rummaged on the floor for a pair of shoes.

His voice floated back to me. “It’s Monday night.”

Shit. I paused, one shoe hanging mid-air. The barbecue had been on Friday—three days ago. My pulse quickened. I grabbed the second sneaker and pushed aside my suspicion. Things with Petra weren’t adding up, but I had no time to sort it out. Firstly, I had to save my friend.

When I re-entered the bedroom, Tommy was leaning against the wall, with the zipped luggage at his side and a cigarette dangling from his lips. I sat down, put my joggers on, and glanced at his sunken eyes and skinny frame. Had my disappearance affected him that much?

A shadow flickered across his face. “You’re going aren’t you?”

“You don’t have to come with me, Tommy, but yes, I’m going. I can help. I have these gifts, and they should be used for good. You should go home. Like you said, it’s much safer there.”

He waggled his cigarette at me. “I ain’t letting you out of my sight, Probie. Not again.” His jaw jutted out, and he steeled his eyes.

“If you stay, you’re going to see me do some strange things, Tommy.”

He balanced the smoke in his lips, shrugged and raised his eyebrows. “Okay, so what’s the plan?”

I gave him a half-hearted smile. I was prepared to do anything and everything.

Chapter 28

The parking lot of The Cauldron was full. I parked near the entrance and left my bike’s headlight on so I could survey the scene without taking off my helmet. People crowded the entrance. They shouted, screamed and argued, fists waving. Even from this distance, the charge from the collective aura electrified me, crawling over the exposed skin on my hands. I shivered and Tommy squeezed my waist.

The building wasn’t burning but there was a soft, yellow glow over the crowd near The Cauldron. Somewhere in that mob was Cash and probably Jed.

Somewhere inside was Kitty.

I hopped off the bike with my back to the crowd and tried to psyche myself up before heading in. I patted my pocket lion. He was ready, and I was ready. Then I pulled off my helmet and turned around.

When he saw me, Tommy stepped back, eyes wide. “Dang!”

“Oh,” I said, patting my hair absently. My hex must have worked. My hair would be dark and my skin, brown. “It’s all part of the plan. I’m in disguise.”

He laughed nervously and licked his lips. “Yeah, okay.”

A dark figure broke away from the mob and ran towards us. As he got closer, I recognized the familiar chocolate skin and his pointed cranium covered in short dark fuzz. My heart jumped in delight and then sank to my stomach. How had he recognized me?

“Roo!” Alvin waved at me. Gone was his chubby exterior and, in its place was a well-defined and muscular physique. His biceps burst out of his tight t-shirt and his skin looked vibrant. My eyes traveled down to his strong legs shaping his shorts into hard, slightly curved lines. It was hard to believe he’d been on his deathbed only a few days before.

“Sorry. I thought you were someone else.” He frowned and turned to Tommy. “Where’s Roo? You have her bike and…” He eyed off my yellow jacket.

“Umm.” Tommy’s eyes darted to me.

“It’s okay, Tommy. We can trust him.”

“Who are you?” Alvin frowned and folded his arms so his new biceps popped.

I tensed.

“It’s me, Roo.” There, I’d said it.

His eyes narrowed and ping-ponged between my bike, my jacket and Tommy. “Why do you look like that?”

“I kind of… changed myself. I’m still me, but in disguise to help Kitty. I have some of the same abilities as a witch.” Oh what the heck. “It was me who fixed your hex at the hospital.”

He shrugged. “I know that.”

I blinked. “How did you know?”

“I’m not stupid. I’ve seen what you do to Kitty’s hair. And after that kiss—” He rolled his brown orbs “—Whoa! Nobody in their right mind would kiss me looking and smelling the way I did. I figured it out. Besides, you gave me some sweet upgrades. Say hello to Des and Troy.” He kissed each of his biceps and grinned. “The ladies love them.”

He glared at the crowd, suddenly grave. “Kitty needs your help. I don’t care what you do, just do it. I’ll back you up, all the way. I won’t let them take you.”

“Thank you,” I said, relief a welcome lightness in my body.

“You’re going to have trouble getting closer. I’m pretty sure that’s your ex’s family at the front of the mob. They’re insane if you ask me. The mother has a little voodoo doll with red hair and she’s been lighting it on fire to rile up the crowd.”

I slipped my jacket off and hung it over the seat. “Red hair?” I fingered my new dark strands. “Well, they won’t be looking for a brown skinned girl with black hair. So, who’s inside? What happened?”

“That dirt-bag Inquisitor tried to get the neighborhood men to dob in their wives, sisters, daughters—any girl they suspected of being a witch—but no one turned up. It was almost funny until a few guys drove into the lot with a truck full of women. Kitty was one of them. I think there are six, but I could be mistaken. They took them inside so fast. He snatched them after the church service yesterday. They’ve been in there since then. I don’t know what they’re waiting for.”

“Probably me. What about the police—what are they doing?”

“Jed and Wozza are here, but no one else would come with them. Jed’s trying to manage the crowd on his own. Oh, and your mate, the hunter.” He lifted his eyebrows at me. “He’s a piece of work, that one.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, I just meant he’s”—Alvin made a few karate actions in the air—“you know, an ass-kicker. Take no prisoners sort of guy.”

I hoped no one was getting hurt. The last time Cash kicked ass was when he snapped Aunt Lucy’s neck. “So, the Inquisitor’s inside?”

“Yeah,” Alvin said.

“Okay. I’m going to do something to the crowd and you might get caught up in it if you’re too close. I’d prefer it if you two stayed at a safe distance for a while.”

I steeled myself and stepped forward but was detained by Tommy’s hand on my shoulder. When I turned, his eyes glittered in the dim light. “I don’t want you to go,” he said, voice brittle and shaky.

“You don’t have a choice. Stand back until it’s safe.”

“How will we know when it’s safe?” Alvin asked.

“Oh, you’ll know.” I walked away with my head held high. My black hair lifted in the wind and floated around my head in what I imagined looked like a sinister halo. Did I have the guts to pull this off? I had to. Kitty didn’t deserve this, and neither did the other women.

The closer I went, the stronger the pressure from the collective energy. It built until my bones were fizzy napalm and I stumbled forward, cramping in tingling pain. Pleasure and pain at once. The force was aggressive. Addictive. I wouldn’t make it to the front door at this rate; the energy would make a blubbering idiot out of me.

I approached the edge of the mob and sniffed. Smoke. Kerosene. My chest constricted. Just keep moving, keep moving or die. A few men glanced at me but luckily, I wasn’t as exciting as the front commotion and they ignored me. There were a handful of regulars from the bar, but there were many faces I didn’t recognize. Had the Inquisitor hired a rent-a-crowd, or had they come from the city?

When I’d told the boys I had a plan, I’d lied.

My abilities seemed to be split into two. One half was the energy-sensing, manipulating Soul-Eater, the other was the DNA-changing witchcraft and telekinesis I’d stolen from the witch inside me.

My two options were, turn the mob into a mass orgy by fusing their auras as I had to the couple at the barbecue—or use witchcraft. The majority of the Grimoire held nasty, life-threatening options, but there was only one I was willing to try. I pushed at my temples. Energy buzzed and tingled over my skin, distracting me. My vision blurred, and darkness beckoned me. I hurtled forward, hands shooting out. My skin connected with the skin of the person in front of me with a zap, and I looked up at a middle-aged man with baggy eyes. He held my wrists to catch my fall.

I held his wrists, too, throwing my energy into his body with a targeted hex. He lurched forward, grunting in pain. The suggestion I implanted traveled through the sweat from my palms like a virus. Planting the seed of suggestion would be easy, focusing acutely would be a risk.

A strangled sound came from the man’s mouth, and saliva glistened on his cracked lips. White vapor curled from our hands. The smell of burning hair and skin made my insides heave. We both looked down. I used the crowd’s energy to boost my own, and my hex slammed into him. I repeated the same message over and over as my bodily fluids transferred to his: produce virus, pass on virus, sleep and dream until you are rested. Dream about peace. Dream about safety. Just dream.

The dizzying pressure of the crowd eased, and I knew I’d siphoned enough of their energy. I released the man’s wrists and, like a zombie domino, he touched the people next to him and passed on the hex, then sagged to the floor. The crowd fell in a silent tsunami until the last silhouette had dropped. It was over in seconds. The smell of burnt skin and hair filled the air, and I wondered what the bodies inside would smell like if they burned at the stake. I shook the thought off, wiped my palms on my jeans and stepped through the fallen crowd.

Surprised shouts traveled from the dark. A few people remained standing, and a scuffle took place. I squinted through the shadows, some had torches—sticks of fire—but I couldn’t tell who. Damn it, they must have been out of the mob’s grabbing range.

“Stop moving. Put your hands up.” A voice carried across the dreamers. It sounded like Jed, but I couldn’t be sure.

A shadow approached me in a crouch, hopping into the gaps between bodies. It was half-way through the pile of sleepers when I recognized the lack of aura.

Cash.

My relief was short lived. Cold metal knocked against my forehead.

“That’s a gun pointed at your head.” His voice was flat.

He jabbed my shoulder with something sharp, then held the object in front of my face. I gasped. A proximity collar.

“I know what you did,” he said. “Take it and put it near the base of your neck.”

The gun stayed on my forehead.

“Cash. It’s me! Roo.” The squeak sounded so unlike my own voice, I feared he wouldn’t recognize me. Or maybe he did, and he hated me because I had violated his trust. But I would not be collared again. Adrenaline surged through my veins making my limbs jittery.

He pressed the barrel of the gun harder to my head, bent forward and sniffed the air around me. He grunted, lowered his gun and stepped out of my personal space.

“Urser?” he whispered.

“Holy shit on a stick.” I could breathe again. “Yeah, it’s me. Who do you think sent everyone to sleep?”

“They’re asleep?”

“You thought I killed them?”

He tilted his head and listened again. “You’re right. I can hear their heartbeats. Just. Good. Marc found you.” He surprised me with an awkward hug and pat on the back. I thought it was a rare show of affection, but he just needed his next words to be secret. “Let’s pretend you’re a colleague. Put on an American accent if you can.”

“Yeah, look about the festival—”

“Not now, Urser. The back door is locked tight. Is there another way into the bar?”

“There are some loose tiles on the roof near the side, and a manhole in the ceiling that leads to the kitchen.”

Cash released me but I jerked him back, my fingers clenching the fabric of his white button-down shirt. “Petra isn’t dead. And thank you for sending Marc to find me, I could’ve been stuck in that hole forever.”

His body went deathly still.

“Cash. Did you hear me?”

“Yes, I’ll deal with that later.” A shudder rippled over his body. Deal with what? Petra being alive, me in a hole, or Marc rescuing me? He glanced back at the group near the front door, then led me towards the cluster. He turned to me and whispered, “I’m going to sneak off, enter through the roof then open the back door. Meet me there in five. I might be able to use your skills.”

“Witch!” A woman’s scream pierced my ears as we drew near. Steve’s mother, Meerkat Maggie. Why couldn’t she have been one of the sleepers?

“Lock her up, you saw what she did.” Her face was ugly with hate. In the torchlight, her shaking fists reminded me of the little boy—the Grimoire—shaking his fist at Steve.

A pang of regret cut through me at the thought of Steve. I bit my lip. There was nothing I could do about that now, so I followed Cash’s lead. I’d deal with it later. Kitty and the women were inside.

“She’s with me,” Cash said, ignored her frenzied squawks and spoke quietly to one of the shadows that turned out to be Jed.

Maggie jumped at me, but was held back by another officer. His aura told me it was Warren, or Wozza, the semi-retired police officer from the precinct. He stood Maggie next to her husband and the last two protesters beside the balustrade started arguing about domestic terrorism.

A groan came from behind me on the floor. I turned to investigate and almost squealed in alarm. A few people weren’t fully asleep. They reached out, twitching like zombies. Sleep or pass on the virus; that had been my instruction. I needed to close the hex chain and fix my colossal fuck up before it became a perpetual mission, infecting the entire world. I touched the wrist of each twitching hand, letting myself be the final link. A wave of sleepiness rolled through me, but I rejected the suggestion instantly. Small smiles flitted over their lips and tension eased from their faces. With their hex complete, they were free to dream.

Jed’s gaze flicked to me. Without breaking eye contact he said to Maggie. “She’s not a witch, just the wrong person in the wrong place. Much like you.” He moved his gaze to Maggie, pulled out his handcuffs and waved them at the remaining four protesters. “This is your final warning, if you do not go home, you will be arrested.”

“We aren’t going anywhere. This is public land,” Maggie said.

“Actually,” Jed said, “it’s not. Head ten meters back towards the beach entrance and you’ll be on public property. I can’t stop you from resuming your vigil back there, but I do recommend you leave.”

“What about all the people?” Maggie hissed. “Aren’t you going to do anything about them?”

Jed smirked and jerked his head at the sleepers. “I’d call an ambulance, but it looks like that fella there is the local driver.” He spoke to Wozza. “Don’t know about you Warren, but it looks like they’re just taking a nap to me.”

Warren shuffled his feet. He didn’t look convinced but, with a curt nod, he agreed. Jed’s expression turned sharp. “If I were you lady, I’d get out of here before the reinforcements arrive. The new Tactical Witch Response Group isn’t happy about this situation and if you’re caught making a nuisance of yourself, you’ll be detained and prosecuted to the full extent of the new law.”

A scream erupted from the dark interior of the bar. We all turned to see a flicker through the tinted windows. A flame?

“What was that?” Alvin asked trotting over. Tommy joined Alvin at the windows of The Cauldron to have a peek. The police officers directed the straggling protesters toward the parking lot, while Alvin and Tommy hatched a plan to break the glass, debating over the method. Throw a rock or shoot it?

Cash had disappeared. Shit, had five minutes past already?

I slipped into the shadows and crept to the back door. With any luck, Cash would appear, and I’d sneak in without my absence being noticed. While I waited, I hopped from one foot to the other, eager to get moving. Within a few seconds, the lock clicked, and the door opened.

Chapter 29

Cash ushered me inside and we crept through the kitchen to the swinging door; I stood on tiptoe to peek through its circle window.

Kitty, Mrs. Beaconsfield and a few other women were tied back-to-back, to chairs on the dance floor. Splintered wood and furniture had been scattered around the circle of women. Mrs. Beaconsfield was a bit of a floozy, but certainly not a witch. A disgruntled and under-appreciated housewife had probably complained about her stealing someone’s husband.

The tiny flicker of flames I’d seen from outside came from a medieval-looking torch in the Inquisitor’s hand. It cast grizzly shadows about the room and his pink uniform as he paced along the front windows. He mumbled in Latin, occasionally raising his voice before dropping it back to a mutter. His brow glistened, his ruddy complexion mottled, the crucifix pins on his lapels flashed.

Two goons with their arms folded stood on the other side of the bar. Tiny silver crucifixes matching their leader’s twinkled from their lapels. The second I noticed the one with the snub nose and circle reading glasses tucking his safari shirt into his cargo pants, I slipped onto my ass, knocking the breath from my lungs. He’d aged a bit, and I almost didn’t recognize him with the white facial hair but, when he sneered, his crooked teeth poked through his lips and I shivered. A bolt of fear sliced through me when I recalled his big-knuckled hands. During my witch trial, he’d been the Inquisitor’s right-hand man. He’d electrocuted me, beat me and drowned me. Those hands had been on my shoulders. They’d pushed me, held me under water. I forced my dry throat to swallow. I fucking hated that guy. The air thickened like Jello and I struggled to breathe. Cash shifted and sniffed the air next to me. He must have sensed my fear.

“Don’t get scared, get angry,” he whispered.

Someone spoke from the other room, snapping my attention back. “They’re quiet out there. Something fishy is going on. Hurry the fuck up. We’re starving and want to go home.”

“You can’t rush exorcisms,” someone else growled. “I just need that bitch to turn up. Then we can pluck the source of evil from the root.” It was the Inquisitor. “Go get some food from the kitchen if you’re that weak.”

I heard a whimper from the women. It could have been Kitty. I wanted desperately to burst through the doors and lay waste to them all, but a hand on my shoulder pulled me back. Footsteps grew closer, and I was sure we would be discovered. Cash tightened his grip.

“Wait—no you’re right.” The Inquisitor said. “I don’t think she’s coming. We should get on with this. Six witches are better than one.”

The footsteps receded.

Cash tilted his head towards the cracks, listening. I couldn’t see his face clearly and wanted to be reassured by his confidence, but the kitchen was dark. The only light came from the torchlight filtering through the round window and the gap in the kitchen door.

“We have her best friend. She’ll turn up,” another voice said.

Cash pulled his gun from the back of his pants and sniffed. “Kerosene.” He stood up to glance through the window. He sniffed again and hissed, “And a witch.” He ducked down beside me. “I can only see three other hostiles. What about you?”

A sister? The voices woke up.

My hairline prickled with sweat. Was Petra inside? I took another peek. “Yep, only three,” I whispered.

“Not with your eyes—with your energy radar.”

“Oh.” I sent my awareness into the next room and felt the women’s frantic auras. Kitty was there, but there was something familiar about one of the others as well. I couldn’t place her. “Five. Two at the back. Not including the witch.”

“Right, you take the back two, I’ll take the front three. Can you send them to sleep too?”

What about our sister?

“Shut up,” I mumbled to the voice.

“What?”

“Nothing… it’s just… I’ll need to touch them if I want to send them to dreamland.”

“That might not be possible.” He was silent for a few seconds before adding, “I think you should remove your disguise.”

“Why? Isn’t it better no one recognizes me?”

“No, here.” He handed me his gun, hilt first.

“Uh, uh.” I pushed the gun back towards him. “I don’t need a gun, I don’t even know how to turn one on.”

“It’s a distraction. I don’t want you to use it—just pretend. Drop your disguise and deal with this like a normal human being. The gun will be easier to explain than changing skin color and moving things with invisible hands.”

Oh. I had been ready to reveal my secret to the world, but I supposed he was right. If I could avoid it, why not?

He pointed at my hair. “Now.”

Right. I lowered my gaze to the greasy floor. My skin tingled with a million itchy ants as my hex spread to cover my body. I marveled at how Cash was so blasé about everything when my stomach rumbled and I clamped a hand over it embarrassed. Cash stood up for one last look through the window, then crouched back down to pin me with his gaze.

“That’s better.” He waved his gun around my face and I flinched.

“Don’t worry. The safety’s on. It won’t go off unless I squeeze the trigger.” He used the weapon to balance himself on the floor. “I’m going to go in first and try to talk him down but, if that doesn’t work, wait for me to take at least two of them out before you make your move. Your presence will surprise them and it’s better if we can do this without any casualties.”

I was afraid, really afraid. Maybe it had to do with the weapons. Super-fast flying metal bits that blew holes in chest cavities were out of my league. A memory stirred deep in the pools of my mind—something about using witchcraft and telekinesis against bullets, but I couldn’t pinpoint it. Instead, visions of Steve’s blood spraying my face caused my head to swim. Dizziness gripped me and I slapped my hand against the door to steady myself.

The door was on hinges.

It squeaked as it swung open and I toppled into the bar. The smell of kerosene assaulted my nose, and confusion dominated the room. A shot rang out. The ceiling cracked, dropping plaster debris on my head.

“Fuck.” Cash launched into action, discharging his weapon before I could even stand up. I smelled gunpowder and, by the time I found my footing, he had fired twice more and leapt over the gleaming bar. I scanned the bar for a weapon, and found the small, serrated knife we used to cut lemons. I grabbed it and vaulted over the counter. I had to save Kitty.

I stepped toward the women, but a man blocked my way. He had no crosses on his lapels and no weapons. He looked frightened when he saw my knife, stepped back and averted his gaze. I couldn’t harm him. He might be an innocent bystander. Where did Side-kick go? Another gunshot cracked, and I ducked, covering my head with my arms. Wood splintered from the bulkhead above the bar—above me. The girls screamed. Someone shot at me. Oh, shit. Adrenaline surged.

I flicked my gaze in Cash’s direction, but he was a blur as he fought with one man. Another was already on the ground, arm extended, gun lying a few centimeters away.

“Put it down Mr. Donohue,” Cash yelled at the Inquisitor. He finished off his second opponent, leaving him disarmed and unconscious.

I headed for the women. Kitty’s green and blue hair stood out amongst the group and, in my rush to get to her, I stumbled over the kindling, almost stabbing myself with my knife. “Kitty, I’m here.” I scrambled up and moved to break her cable tie restraint, but she shook her head.

“No, get the others first,” she said.

I changed trajectory to her neighbor. It was the mousy-haired girl I’d tried to save from the Inquisitor when I was released from jail. Fresh tears ran down her cheeks when she saw me lift my knife. She thought I was going to hurt her. I angled the knife behind her to cut the cable ties around her wrists.

“Don’t worry, I’m just trying to get you out of here.” The cable tie snapped, and I moved to the next woman. The girl hadn’t moved. “Get out!” I waved towards the kitchen. “Go through the back door.” The second cable tie snapped, and the woman grabbed her frozen companion and disappeared.

Just as I bent to Mrs. Beaconsfield, a burst of white-hot needles shot through my shoulder and I was yanked backwards to crash onto my rear. Mrs. B screamed profanities at something over my shoulder. Her brown, permed hair bounced as her head shook.

Someone was behind me. The vague buzz of an aura reached me through a haze of pain. I turned to find the side-kick holding a much larger weapon in his hands, hatred boiling in his eyes.

Now, that’s a knife.

Yes, it was. Jagged on one side, curved and sharp on the other, it looked like something you’d kill a bear with. Blood ran down the length of it then dripped off the point to the floor. I winced, then looked down at my bleeding chest. His knife dripped with my blood. He’d stabbed me. Was he fucking kidding me? Pain seared from the bloody spot over my left breast. The wound was centimeters from my heart—no, millimeters. It could have been all over in seconds. My left arm swelled with pins and needles.

Shock. I was going into shock.

I hissed as my skin itched and pinched as it knit together, undoing the damage from the knife. But it wasn’t fast enough. Stinging needles exploded along my scalp. The side-kick had speared his fingers into my hair and yanked my head. All I could see was his white bearded face as he stood over me. He sneered, showing his crooked teeth.

Disorientated, I watched him, upside down, as he lowered his knife toward my neck. Sparks reflected off the shiny blade—where had that surge of light come from? The sadist yanked on my head again. He wanted to see my pain. It had taken three years, but he’d found his way back to finish me off. My recent failures flashed before my eyes. Maybe I should let him.

Far away, someone screamed.

The knife paused at my neck. Light exploded with a roar as the kindle ignited, and the air crackled with skin-singeing heat. The pyre had been lit.

Where was Cash?

Kitty screamed.

A bolt of pure energy sliced through me, shaking me out of my perilous self-pity. I wouldn’t leave my friends; I couldn’t let their deaths be on my hands. My captor stared at the fire like a deer in the headlights. My hands clamped around his wrist that held the knife.

“Fucking die, you bastard,” I said through gritted teeth.

My palms were already sweating so my death wish sliced through him like a reaper’s scythe. He lost his grip on my hair and the knife clattered to the floor. He fell. No whimper, no cry, no protest. He’d simply dropped dead.

“Kitty!” I screamed through the fire.

Smoke filled the room, climbing to the roof. Too sluggish to search my darkest depths for a magical answer, I went with logic. I grabbed the fire extinguisher from the kitchen, rounded the bar and pulled the trigger. Foam whooshed out in a fountain of chemical snow. Immediately, I felt for auras through the blinding foam, finding only faltering pinpricks of energy. Where the bloody hell was Cash? I needed him. I couldn’t do this without him.

But I did. I kept my finger on the trigger and slowly stepped forward.

The Inquisitor’s heavy body came flying through the chemical snow at my right to land on the hot coals. He screamed and tried to roll, but struggled with the weight of his immense size. The smell of burning flesh hit my nose, and I shuddered. Cash pushed through the cloud next, continued past me and disappeared through the snow. Relief temporarily pushed out my panic. He was alive. And he’d just walked through flames.

The fire extinguisher spluttered out, there was no more solution. The canister dropped with a metallic thud and I ran to the first woman I could see—Mrs. B with slightly singed hair, covered in white powder, but essentially unscathed. I melted her cable tie with my heated fingers and helped her out of the chair. She whimpered as I guided her across the uneven kindling and fresh coals and pushed her through to the kitchen.

“Go out the back door,” I yelled. “Call for help.”

When I turned back, the gray outline of two bodies appeared through the falling mist. “Follow me,” I called and grabbed the first hand getting a jolt of energy from the skin on skin contact. It was the witch.

Sister!

But it wasn’t Petra. I pulled the person into the kitchen. Once through the galley door, I switched on the light and could see the two behind me clearly. Sabina’s soot covered face smiled briefly. If she had been burned, she was now healed. Her calming aura emanated peacefully from her body, akin to a warm bath. How I longed to stay and bask in the warmth, but there was work to do. I pointed to the back door so she could help the other woman and then covered my mouth and nose with my shirt and went back into the bar.

Cash emerged, staggering from the black smoke and flames with Kitty, limp and charred in his arms. The fire crackled and re-surged behind him. As he rounded the bar, he yelled, “Go!”

I held open the door as he came through. He laid Kitty’s body on the stainless-steel bench in the center of the kitchen. Parts of her skin had blackened and charred, other parts had warped into red raw twists.

Sabina took one look at Kitty, ushered her charge outside and then let the wooden door slam behind. She looked at me. “Find me a sharp knife.”

I ran to the knife block near the stove and handed her the sharpest, hilt first. “Let me help.”

“No, I can do this. You have expended enough energy already,” Sabina said. “I see the weakness in your eyes and there are not enough able-bodied souls for you to siphon from.”

“No, don’t touch her.” Cash made a move for Sabina, but I held him back. I felt the tension in his bicep, but he didn’t resist.

Taking that as permission, Sabina sliced the knife down Kitty’s desecrated front, revealing the soft tissue beneath.

“You fuck this up and I’m coming for you.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. “I swear to god, I’ll make you wish you’d never laid eyes on me.”

Call me crazy, but I think she smiled before she sliced the knife down her palm and flattened it to Kitty’s wound. She closed her eyes and concentrated, brows joining in the middle, quietly chanting.

I paced the length of the bench, flexing my fists, waiting. Kitty’s beautiful blue and green mermaid hair had singed in clumps. Short bits and long stringy bits stuck to her skin. I kept one eye on Sabina and the other on Kitty, willing her shallow breathing to even out. I held her hand and waited. Slowly the redness faded, the skin hardened. I sighed. It had worked.

Cash shuffled to my right. Blood from a cut in his upper arm trickled onto his white shirt and his lower legs were charred. Patches of fabric had burnt away revealing blackened skin beneath. I squinted, the color was soot, not charred skin. He’d probably be healed by now.

“Are you okay Cash?” I asked, just to make sure.

“We need to get out of here, the bar is still burning and there are survivors.” He looked up to the roof, frowning. “Why haven’t your sprinklers gone off?”

“I don’t know. Did you say survivors?”

Survivors—the Inquisitor, the unconscious man, or the hesitant man in the checked shirt—what had happened to him? If there were survivors, we had to try to save them. I had to balance out the life I’d taken, even if I hated their guts. Balance was key.

Cash didn’t answer, but positioned a kitchen trolley under one of the sprinklers and climbed up to take a better look.

“Shit,” he mumbled and looked down at me. “The glass sensor has been painted over to reduce its temperature sensitivity.”

He was right, of course. The thin glass bulb had been painted black. He flicked the fingertips of his wounded arm, discarding the blood that had gathered there. He still bled.

My teeth clenched as I grabbed a clean white tea towel. “You’re still bleeding, Cash.” I changed my mind about rescuing the Inquisitor. I hoped he was dead.

“If we’re quick, we might be able to break the sensor bulbs and set off the system. Where’s Marc when you need him?”

Marc. Fire. My brain whirred. I could make fire. Did that mean I could stop it?

No.

“Argh,” I screamed in frustration, held out the towel to Cash and then checked on Kitty. Sabina still pushed heavily into her chest. Her eyelids drooped, but she lifted her calm gaze to mine.

“She’s going to be all right,” she said. Kitty’s skin looked more like a char-grilled fish than a mermaid’s, but at least she was alive. “We can move her outside soon—maybe five minutes.”

“Good.” Cash hopped off the trolley. He skirted my dangling tea towel, but I stopped him and checked his wound.

“Why haven’t you healed?” I whispered as I dabbed the slow drizzle from his shoulder slash.

He watched me intently, but didn’t flinch. “You were battle born, La Roux. You have good instincts. You should use them more often. I watched you in there. Your problem is that you think you’re human. You balked until you finally pushed your emotions aside and acted on primal instinct. Then in an instant, you won.”

I rolled the cloth and tied it around his arm. “Emotion is what saved me, Cash. I didn’t move until I heard Kitty scream. Wait”—Had he been on the sidelines, simply observing?—“were you testing me?”

“Yes, but you wouldn’t have learned otherwise.” He pulled away and grabbed a stack of towels from a shelf. He wet the first and shoved it at me. With his free hand, he soaked the second towel.

“Thanks.” I wiped my face with it.

He huffed and took it back, then folded the towel into a triangle and tied it around my head, covering my mouth. He did the same to himself. He pulled me towards the swinging door, picking up Sabina’s fallen knife on the way.

“I’ll use the knife to break the sprinkler bulbs, and you use your telekinesis for practice.” His voice was muffled. “We’ll start with the ones closest to us and work towards the fire. The flame retardant is still effective in some areas; we can jump to those safely. You ready?”

I glanced back at Kitty, unsure. Did I want to leave her to save some murderers?

“She can’t be moved yet. She’ll be okay,” Cash said, then frowned at my slumped posture. “Have you got enough energy to help me?”

Did I look that weary?

Balance.

Reluctantly, I stumbled forward. “Let’s go.”

Chapter 30

Cash pulled me through the doors and climbed onto the bar top. Fire crackled from the center of the room where flames licked at the remaining kindling. Black smoke filled the air, creating a thick haze. The sprinklers were shadowy blobs on the ceiling. How on earth would I aim for the tiny glass bulb in that blurry thing?

Cash crouched beside me and waved his knife to get my attention. He held out his hand and pulled me up with a strong, steady lift. His eyes twinkled with mischief over the white kerchief on his mouth and he looked up at the ceiling. He poked the closest bulb with his knife and a blast of water sprayed down onto us—cool relief on parched skin. His forehead crinkled as if to say, “See that? I’m awesome.”

I fought the urge to stick out my tongue and settled for sucking the drops of water from the soaked kerchief, a small smile on my lips. With dripping fingers, he pointed to the next sprinkler further into the room, closer to the source of the fire.

I didn’t have much faith in the accuracy of my skills, but sent my energy flying to where he’d indicated. I recoiled like I’d shot a gun. A second later the entire sprinkler unit fell off, letting a torrential waterfall escape from the hole. It was hopeless. There’s no way I could hit such a small target.

Cash was already breaking another sprinkler at the end of the bar.

“Just keep going,” he called. “We need to hurry before we lose the pressure.”

I turned to the center of the room barely noticing the water soaking my shirt. Exhaustion trampled me and, irritated, I yanked the towel off my face. The spray slowed. It was running out of pressure. Alarmed, I realized there were too many units left. We were running out of time. But if I could use my telekinesis to get all the units off in one hit, I could then redirect the water to where the fire was thickest. Maybe. I’d moved water before, well, beer. Same thing, right? I’d also done it with puddles as a child. My mood lightened. I could do this.

I called Cash back from where he stabbed the roof. He slipped and slid until he stood in front of me, questions in his bright eyes—was he having fun?

“Stand behind me,” I said and waited for him to move.

I held out my arms, splayed my fingers and inflated my energy to the brink. Then let it loose in one big arc angling at the roof. It crackled from my fingertips, and broke anything in its path, including light fixtures and taxidermy crows. They clattered to the floor. I adjusted my power arc lower to catch the falling water and altered its course toward the central fire.

Within seconds the blaze simmered out, and so did I. With my vitality depleted, I slid off the bar, soggy waterlogged shoes squelching as they hit the floor. I collapsed, blinking lazily and wiping the water from my face.

So tired.

It wasn’t as smoky near the ground. I could breathe. Maybe I had broken the windows with my blast of power because a cool, fresh breeze wafted in from somewhere. I scrubbed my face. I was so tired, I wasn’t even sure if the voices in my head were my own. Maybe I had been asleep all along.

Sleep sounds like a good idea.

“La Roux.” Cash grabbed my chin and tilted my head towards him. Had I fallen asleep? The fire was out, but light filtered in from the kitchen. His eyes still twinkled as he crouched beside me.

“You’re actually having fun,” I accused, my words slurred, heavy with lethargy.

He shrugged, pulled the towel from his mouth and scrubbed his face with it. “Maybe just a little,” he said with half a smile. “My endorphins are flowing so I guess that’s what you might call it—fun.”

Fatigue thrust my lids low, causing an unmistakable desire to pass out. My body was not handling the after-effects of exertion. A vicious, heavy feeling pulled me down like quicksand and I slumped sideways onto the floor. It looked as good a place as any for a rest. Sleep. I sighed dreamily and closed my eyes, reveling in the pleasure of relief. Nobody would miss me if I took a nap.

“Hey.” Cash shuffled closer and prodded my arm with his finger. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I wasn’t having fun, I don’t even know what that is—La Roux?”

I groaned, swatted his hand away and peeled one eye open.

“Go away, I’m sleeping.” I closed my eye again, waiting for oblivion.

“You can’t sleep now,” he said. “Wake up!”

I didn’t move.

“Look, I’m not in favor of what you did to me at the beach without my consent, but if I give you permission to take energy from me, you can. You said something earlier about recharging from other people.” He shook me. “La Roux, wake up.”

“You’re invisible,” I babbled, irritated, but I knew what I meant, even if he didn’t. How could I borrow his energy if I couldn’t sense it? “Go away.”

“If you fall asleep now, I don’t know if you will wake up.” He shook me. “You did something to me at the barbecue. Do it again.”

I’d embarrassed myself, that’s what I’d done. I grumbled and turned away, rolling into a fetal position. The floor was so good. So comfy.

He grasped the back of my neck and drew me close.

I opened my eyes. “Wha—?”

His lips were on mine. That electrically charged attraction zinged between us again. Drawn together. Wow. My eyes shot open. He curled his arm around my waist and maneuvered me onto his lap, kissing. His hidden essence traveled from his mouth to my tongue and heated my insides like whiskey, then overflowed deeper, spreading warmth to my core. It sparked mayhem inside, sensations exploding at his touch, and I was once again reminded of the scent of the rain. Coupled with his hungry mouth, hands and vitality, I gave in to my body’s weakness and physical desire. I melted into his waterlogged body and kissed him back as drops kept falling from the ceiling.

Then I came to my senses and punched him in the guts, hard. He grunted into my mouth but didn’t let go, didn’t stop kissing. His hand moved to the nape of my neck. I punched him again. Harder.

“Oof.” He let go, eyes opening to glare at me from under heavy lids. He licked his lips and darted a glance down to mine then back to my eyes.

I disentangled myself and shuffled backwards, breath heaving through a gaping mouth. My thoughts were at war. I thought I’d ruined his trust in me, but this time, he’d made the first move. No, he must be toying with me, or had it been a calculated decision?

“What on earth are you doing?” I snapped, hoping my harsh tone would disguise my feelings. “This isn’t the right time to be playing kissy-face, Cash. You’d know that if you could feel. We need to check the survivors.”

The shame of my cruel words inflamed my cheeks, and I looked down, then made to move but he grabbed me.

“For your information, there are parts of me that feel just fine,” he said and cocked an eyebrow. His eyes darkened for a moment. “When I decide to play ‘kissy-face’ you’ll know it.”

My heart beat once, hard against my ribcage. The visual his words sent made my mouth dry and all at once, it consumed me, just like I knew his lips would.

“Roo, it worked didn’t it? You feel better?”

My eyes fluttered closed. Of course. He’d given me his energy to increase my own. What an idiot I was to think there was more to it. I did feel slightly less tired, among other things.

“You’re right,” he said. “There are other things we should be doing, but checking on that bastard isn’t one of them. You should leave him to his fate.” His voice came out husky and he coughed to cover it up, thumping his chest with his fist.

“You can’t be serious? Yes, I agree he’s a bastard, but there has to be a balance.” I swallowed, not believing my own words. “You’re the one who said that’s how it is.”

He rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Okay, okay. Fine. I just got a little… sidetracked. I didn’t say I was perfect. I’ll make sure he’ll keep until paramedics arrive, and then I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

With a feeling of loss I couldn’t explain, we parted.

I found Kitty sleeping soundly on the stainless steel bench, a faint whistling coming from her nose. The color had returned to her face, and much of the dried skin had sloughed away. She was alone. Sabina had gone. A grumble and a cramping in my own tummy reminded me she would be ravenous and probably went searching for sustenance. Witchcraft took a lot of reserves.

Cash joined me and went to pick up Kitty, but I stopped him.

“Wait,” I said and bit my lip. “Again, it may not be the time or the place, but we might not get another chance and I need to do that mentor thing with you. If you’ll still have me, that is.”

Marc’s warning had flooded into my mind with red and blue flashing lights. If I didn’t do this—whatever it was—with Cash, I could end up a slave and carted around the world, abused by some stranger. In terms of candidates for a mentor, Cash was a pretty good choice. So far. He fought for the rights of those less fortunate. He wasn’t obligated to. He wasn’t on the local police force and it wasn’t his town, but he came tonight to help. Cash was someone I could look up to.

“Yes, I will.” He looked into my eyes, searching, then pulled out the knife he’d stashed in his waistband.

“Why?” I had to ask. He was so hard to read.

The intensity of his gaze eased. The Adam’s apple in his throat bobbed when he swallowed and he flipped the knife over and over in his hand, hypnotized by the spinning metal.

“To tell you the truth, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I understand the loneliness of what you’re going through. Being an outsider in this Game isn’t easy. Maybe it’s this strange attraction I feel for you. You smell like someone I know, but I’ve never met. I can’t explain it, but the more I’m around you, the more I want to keep you safe and, well, that’s a conversation for another time.” His eyes sparkled as he glanced at my lips. He stopped flipping the knife and our eyes met. “We’re connected somehow. You must feel it—it’s different. When we kissed, there was something else there, a pull. Whoever you are inside, and whoever I am—they’re made of the same thing. If we do this together, we can help each other out. We need to trust our instincts.”

My breath hitched. He felt it too. I thought maybe it was my raging hormones and energy-addled brain, but I felt it too.

He doesn’t really know you. The voices chimed in. Always with the negative. I had to agree with them though. He didn’t know about my soul-stealing abilities, or my destructive potential in the Game. I hadn’t told him about Marc’s prognosis, that I could be used as a slave by other Players. A blood tie would condemn him to my fate.

“What is it?” he asked, frowning at my expression.

“Marc said I am a Soul-Eater. He also said I’m doomed to regress once I return to the Empire and, if that’s the case, I’d be taking you down with me.” I looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

“Marc also calls kangaroos ‘hoppity bunnies with long tails’. Sometimes he’s too blinded by his ego to see the truth clearly.”

I smirked. “He said that to you too?”

“I don’t know what your truth is yet, but I’m willing to bet my soul on it.” Without warning, he sliced the razor sharp blade across my Mount of Venus, deep. I hissed at the sting in my flesh. Blood welled from the wound and he quickly sliced his own palm and flattened it to mine. The wounds touched, blood mingling. A shiver moved like an avalanche through my body and tingling sensations prickled my palm as the wound healed.

“La Roux Urser, do you accept me, Cash Samson, as your mentor, teacher and confidant until you have completed your trials and are released into the Game?” he asked.

I didn’t need a magic key to tell me the answer. “Yes.”

He pulled his hand away and frowned at my healed palm. His still leaked. Why was he not healing? He sliced my palm again, and rejoined our hands, tightening the pressure to the stinging wound. “I pledge to be truthful, protect you and instruct you with the intent of success in all matters concerning the Game for the duration of your trials. May we be linked universally from this day forward.”

I felt awkward and glanced at my feet. “Is that it? Do I need to say anything?”

“No, our blood is shared, as is our life-force. We both agreed it’s what we want. That is enough for the universe to recognize the link.”

Our blood is shared. Momentary panic kicked in when I thought of sharing blood with the Grimoire, but remembered he hadn’t tasted mine.

“Did you do this with Marc?” I asked.

“No, he’s wasn’t my mentor.”

My head snapped up to catch his gaze. “But he said—”

“He lied. I’m on my own.” His expression darkened. “We’re a team now, you and I. We can’t keep secrets and we have to trust each other.”

I nodded. The souls inside me laughed, and I swallowed. The opportunity to confide about the voices in my head presented itself, but I couldn’t. Not now.

He picked up Kitty’s limp body and waited for me at the back door. When I held the door open, he exited without a word. I followed with an awful premonition creeping up my spine. The first escapee was to call for help, but none had arrived.

We rounded the corner of the building and found Petra, looking like Leila, behind the floor of sleeping bodies with a smug smile. She wiped long dark strands of hair from her eyes then rested her interlocking hands in front of her pale blue blouse. Her floral skirt swayed as she rocked forwards and backwards on her ballet-slippered feet.

Next to her, Jed’s shaky fingers grasped the hilt of a gun pointed at Tommy’s head. Jed’s uniform was darkly stained at the armpits and neck.

“Sister.” Petra’s laugh pitched so high it almost squeaked. “How delightful, you’ve finally decided to join us.”

Chapter 31

The rising sun cast purple and pink hues over the sleeping masses. I sensed anticipation, or fear, or dread—whatever it was—like a tangible thing. The wind whispered, and the ocean shushed each time a wave met the shore. The crowd murmured and breathed in sync with the surf, unaware of the unfolding disaster nearby.

“I’m sorry, Roo. We can’t help ourselves.” Jed’s wide eyes watered.

Tommy appeared to be holding his breath, clutching at the fabric of his gray checked shirt, his glassy eyes locked on me, his baseball hat crooked. My eyes flitted between the witch and her victims.

Petra stepped to the side, revealing an additional drama—Warren, with his gun pointed at Alvin’s head. Warren snorted like a caged bull. His neck tendons were taut as he tried to fight Petra’s hex.

I was too far away. There was no way I could reverse the hex without mixing my body fluid with theirs. I’d have to remove their weapons and hold them at bay until the effects wore off. While my mind raced, my body reacted; my breath became ragged, fingers tingled with heat and my muscles twitched.

Alvin glanced over my shoulder and I twisted to see Cash gently lower Kitty against the cracked glass door of The Cauldron’s entrance. Her bright green eyes were wide open.

“You okay?” I mouthed.

She nodded a fraction and shifted awkwardly on the hard floor. Thank the bloody stars she was awake.

Petra cackled, and ten or more crows on the skeletal branches behind her joined in with loud caws. Familiars. Petra’s aura oozed towards me.

“Let’s play a game shall we?” she said. “You should like games, Roo darling.” She smirked and waved her hands towards the boys like she was shooing them. “That’s right boys, over near the cliff’s edge.”

Tommy refused to budge and kept his eyes glued to mine. Jed moved jerkily, like a puppet, and shoved Tommy, forcing him to shuffle towards the wooden balustrade at the edge of the cliff. We needed help. The other escapees and Sabina had disappeared. The mob still slept soundly, and Meerkat Maggie and her fellow few protesters cringed in a corner, shielding their faces. Whatever happened before we got here must have scared them half to death. Finally faced with real evil and they had nothing to offer.

So that left me and Cash against the witch.

“You move, hunter, and they shoot.” Petra’s low voice held a warning. Arrogance, not witchcraft shone in her irises.

Cash froze beside me, fingers tapping at his side, probably itching to get at his gun.

“That’s better. Now, back to our game.” One hand absently tapped her clear bauble necklace. She’d worn that necklace as Aunt Lucy, as well. “There is a safe word and an execution word. I’ll give you three tries to guess the correct safe word. If you can’t guess by the third, then I’ll kill them myself.”

I chewed on my lip and played scenarios in my head. It was possible to remove the gun from the officers with telekinesis, but if I wasn’t quick enough, they might shoot. I could also attack Petra herself, but this could spark an undesired chain reaction, with no guarantee I would get to her before she triggered the kill switch.

“I’m not playing your silly game, Petra,” I said, hoping to buy some time. Cash shifted beside me.

Leila’s delicate face crumpled and, when Petra’s words came out, her voice became as dark as her eyes. “First, you wouldn’t share your secret with me, then you lied and tried to feed me to the hunter. Finally you killed my William and took my secrets. Don’t you see how selfish you are?” She stroked one of the glass spheres on her necklace. “It’s not always about you, sister. You need to learn to share.”

She called me selfish? It suddenly occurred to me how long she’d been meddling in my life, and how much of what had happened to me was by her design. I’d been living as a slave—hers. How dare she call me selfish?

“You’re behind all this aren’t you?” I spat. “The Inquisitor, the mob, Steve. You did it all, didn’t you?”

A smile slithered up one side of her face.

“You tried to kill me!” I shouted, unable to curb my fury. “You treated me like crap, and you’ve been ruining my life since before the trial. Hell, you might even be the reason my father left.”

“I’m not ruining your life. I’m cleaning house. There’s a difference.” Petra paused. “Yes, I tried to kill you, but I may have been a little hasty. Soon, it will make no difference and, if you want to be free from Him, you need to be free from all of your burdens before we return to Paradise. Come on. You and me, that’s all we need.”

“My friends aren’t burdens. But you wouldn’t understand that, would you?” While I spoke, I borrowed energy from the sleeping mob. My fingertips burned. I boosted my own soul and got ready to extend it, grab the guns and pull. I was awake, ready and alert.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” She waggled a finger. “Your eyes light up like Christmas when you channel, just like mine, sister.”

She flicked her wrist towards the victims and murmured a word I couldn’t hear. Jed and Warren pushed Tommy and Alvin backwards over the balustrade, tilting their jaws back with the barrels of their guns. The whites of Tommy’s eyes showed, and he yanked on Jed’s strangle hold, using his arm to stop himself from falling. His feet scrabbled on the dirt floor.

“Stop!” I called and let my cached energy dissipate. “You win. What do you want?”

Her mouth twisted. “I want you to have nothing left. I want to be your whole world, so you will take me to Paradise. You’ve been there; you just don’t remember it. But you will return. And when you do, you will take me with you.” She smoothed her skirt. “So, what is your first word?”

I rifled through my brain for a word she might have used. When sirens wailed in the distance, Cash made his move. He tore his gun from his waistband and angled it at Petra the same instant I threw up my hands and said, “I don’t know, William?”

The voices inside me snickered.

Petra cocked her head, and the crows squawked, lifting their wings to hover in the air. “That’s four words, my dear, and none of them were correct.”

I gasped, heart pounding in my throat.

Cash jerked his weapon. “I’ll shoot you Petra. That will ruin your plans, won’t it?”

She smirked, a finger seeking her bauble, sending the alternates clinking. It was Leila’s delicate face twisted into something unrecognizable. “Even if you shoot me, hunter, you won’t be quick enough to stop them.” She flicked her inky gaze to mine. “It was so simple. The safe word was ‘sister’. It had no effect coming from my mouth, so I programmed them to need it from you. If you had only called me by that name… well, they would’ve died anyway, sister.”

Time slowed down. She murmured something inaudible. Tommy and Alvin struggled, and a deafening crack ricocheted through the parking lot like thunder. Alvin and Tommy fell backwards over the balustrade.

My insides clenched. The power I’d let go had been waiting, quivering beyond the physical barrier of my body and I recaptured it so rapidly, my hair blew up. My arms flew out, and I reached for my falling friends. Thousands of static sparks crackled through the air as energy rocketed from my fingers. I aimed for their bodies as they fell and connected with Alvin but my power flew through Tommy as if he were invisible.

“No!” I cried, remembering: he was immune, just like his brother. Tommy sailed over the edge, leaving a misty blood stream trailing from his chest wound.

Someone screamed.

It was me.

I dug in my heels as I yanked on Alvin. My power was a lasso and it caught around his body almost sending me flying from the weight. But I poured more energy into the hold and stood my ground. His neck snapped back and, when I pulled, he fell to the dirty floor in front of the balustrade. It all happened in a matter of seconds. Cash dropped his gun and flew past me in a blur, hopping the gaps between the sleepers to launch himself over the edge of the balustrade. I followed him as far as the railing and leaned over.

Cash slid down the rocky embankment, all hands and feet, kicking dirt and rocks into the air. He landed in the white sand beside his brother’s twitching body.

My chest constricted painfully. “Tommy.”

Denial pumped in my veins, he couldn’t be dead—I could fix him, couldn’t I? With everything I’d learned, surely I had the knowledge to save him. I was half a fucking god, wasn’t I?

Cash tried to scoop up his brother but Tommy shook his head. A red river leaked from his mouth. My throat closed up and I couldn’t breathe.

Jed mumbled beside me, “I’m so sorry Roo, I couldn’t stop myself.”

His voice cracked, the stains running down his pants showed the toll it had taken.

I twisted to face Petra and my foot connected with something on the floor—Tommy’s baseball cap.

My body burned and my fingertips seared with power. I didn’t care whose life-force I took, nothing stood in my way. I swiftly pulled on the surplus energy around me and turned to locate Petra’s dirty soul. I felt her energy but, in my heightened state, I could actually see it as well. Darkness twisted and writhed around Leila, like tentacles on the head of Medusa.

She was only steps away when I sprang at her. My fingers connected with her chest and I released the power, feeling it vibrate like a plucked, electrified string. Her body fell in a sizzling heap at my feet, stunned, perhaps burned from the inside.

I turned and thudded down the concrete steps, never taking my eyes off the two hunched figures at the bottom of the cliff. I couldn’t lose Tommy. He cared for me. He cared so much that he wanted me to go home with him. And I had led him into this death trap.

I fell to my knees beside him, racked with sobs. Stricken with grief, I ached all over.

Fine white grains of sand covered Tommy’s face and hair, and tears made dirt tracks down his cheeks. His eyes searched the dawn sky and when I put my face in front of them, he exhaled, shooting blood droplets into the air. His pupils dilated and contracted.

Cash cradled his brother’s head with one hand supporting the neck, the other trying to staunch the flow of blood from his chest. Blood bubbled between Cash’s fingers.

“You can heal him, right?” he asked desperately.

My hands hovered over Tommy’s broken body, trying to find a purpose. The gun had been pointed at his neck, but somehow he’d been shot in the chest. He’d managed to jerk back to avoid a bullet to the brain, but had suffered internal injuries from the fall. I wanted to help him, but couldn’t feel his energy. The crippling realization weighed me down. I couldn’t save him.

“I can’t,” I said. “He’s immune like you, Cash.”

“Probie,” Tommy gurgled and reached for me. His fingers were cold as he pulled my hand to rest against his cheek. He sighed, wheezed. His eyes fluttered closed.

The sun’s first rays hit the ocean behind us, painting the water gold. A figure ambled down the sandy steps. The illuminating sun created a giant, twisted shadow on the sand near my feet. Petra was coming.

“I won’t lose you Tommy,” I said. “You need to hold on. Can you hear the sirens? Help is on the way.” His lids opened then lowered to cover his achingly blue eyes. I couldn’t let him sleep, not yet. I wasn’t finished with him. “You have to take me home remember? To visit your mother. You promised me.”

“I’m so tired.” His teeth chattered. His eyes flew open, glassy with terror. “Don’t let me go to sleep. Please, the nightmares. Please.”

My lungs squashed my fragile heart inside its cage, and my breath escaped in tiny bursts.

“Do you want me to sing to you?” I asked, and stroked his hair, thinking about the lullaby he’d sung to me. Maybe it would make him think of home. “Everything’s all right,” I crooned and ran my fingers down the side of his cheek. “Everything’s fine…” My throat constricted and the words wouldn’t come. I hummed, the tune broken by sobs.

“Probie?” A tiny crease formed between his eyebrows.

“I’m here, Tommy.” I cupped his face between my hands and leaned closer.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he mumbled. The flicker of a smile danced across his features and his gaze locked on mine. “Kiss me?”

My tears landed on his cheeks and I kissed him gently, ignoring the blood running from his lips.

And then I felt it, sensed it—smelled it.

My eyes flew wide, and I pulled back.

Rain.

It wasn’t his coppery blood that surprised me, but the scent and taste of rain. That earthy, wet smell, fresh and full of life. My gaze shot up to meet Cash’s. I grabbed his hand. His ritual wound still glistened. I looked down at my own pink scar, and willed it to reopen. With a red slice, my skin obeyed. I slammed my palm on top of Cash’s and leaned toward Tommy. Our lips touched, and I pulled on his dying essence with all my might. It was hesitant, but it responded. His immunity to witchcraft wasn’t a genetic thing after all; it was a soul thing, and that was my thing.

He was Cash’s missing soul tripartite.

Tommy’s essence resisted. It wanted to follow the course of nature and dissolve into the atmosphere.

But I had other intentions.

I convinced his recalcitrant life-force that I was nature, that I gave the orders and had found it a new home. I funneled it through my body, a trickle that grew into a driving flood. The current rolled down my arm and, sensing the proximity of its missing piece, the entire essence slammed into Cash. My eyes bulged with the sudden expulsion and I cried out. My insides cramped as though I conducted lightning.

Cash roared and flew back into the sand, face red, eyes white. His body convulsed, the muscles in his neck protruded with the force of his grinding teeth. Spittle flew from his mouth with each sharp breath.

Tommy had stilled beneath my hands, just a body. That was all that was left.

Cash writhed in pain. My hand covered my mouth, and I bit my finger. I’d made a mistake. My skin prickled with doubt.

What had I done?

Chapter 32

“Oh sister, you’ve really done it now.” Soft footsteps approached. “You always try to do it alone, but”—she leaned forward and stage whispered—“you should’ve asked for help.”

The full force of my fury and regret raged through me and I flung it at her. I tried to push her essence out but, when my energy met hers, it slammed into a wall, bounced back and slapped me in the face. I reeled, steadied myself on the sand and saw stars.

“What have you done?” I asked. She shouldn’t be able to deflect me.

“Do you like my modifications?” She twirled in a circle, skirt fanning out, arms wide. Her eyes were bright with triumph. She believed she had won. “If you had read my secrets, you’d have seen the spells from the Book of the Dead, and you would know about this.” She hooked her neck chain with her thumb and tiny glass baubles clinked. The one she’d been stroking had been smashed open, like an exploded light bulb.

When I didn’t answer, her lips curled.

“You see, you don’t know everything.” She jiggled a knife at me, the one Cash had used for our ritual. “I had a fail-safe on my book, lest another of my kind steal it. The knowledge, starting with the secrets of the dead, would fold in on itself when separated from its original host, leaving you with nothing.”

She was wrong. I hadn’t separated the knowledge from the original host, not for long anyway. They were both inside me, her Grimoire including The Book of the Dead. The glyphs stirred deep inside, uneasy, as if awoken by my thoughts.

Petra pulled the chain over her head and held it out.

“This little piggy was at the market. This little piggy was home.” She tittered, flicking the baubles with the tip of the knife as she sang. “This little piggy ate roast beef, and this little piggy drank wine.” She stepped closer and crouched down, eyes deathly still. “And this little piggy cried wee, wee, wee…” Her voice trailed off as she walked her fingers up her face to jab herself in the temple with a finger. “All. The. Way. Home.”

I whimpered. She meant Leila. I was sure of it. She had Leila’s soul inside her, and others in the baubles.

She cocked her head. “You understand don’t you? These hold my payment to the Ferryman, to take us to the other side. Souls are the perfect currency, but this one was special.” She pulled the broken piece off and held it out for me to inspect, then dropped it on the sand. “That one held Leila’s soul, but now it’s fused with mine.” She laughed and thumped her chest. “I am mortal once more.” She pointed her toes like a dancer and stepped in a circle, through the fine white sand.

Mortal. The word bounced around my skull and an idea began to form.

“He asked for souls,” her eyes glazed over as she continued. “But I don’t think he will mind that I deviated from his plan. After all, liberating the world from the rotten fruit of his loins is a favor. Yes, he will thank me. He didn’t want you after all, and he will keep his end of the bargain to negotiate with the Ferryman.”

What the hell was she talking about? This man she seemed to work for—she was afraid of him. But she was helping him… fruit of his loins? Shit, I grabbed my head. She’s insane. Marc must be the Ferryman—he carried souls between Earth and the Empire. Then the words, “He didn’t want you,” sunk in. I clutched my chest… he didn’t want me!

The sirens stopped. Help had arrived.

Petra stopped her circular dance and whipped her head around as if seeing me for the first time. “I am here, and you are there.” She waved the knife, wild eyed. “You are alone. No one is left who cares for you. No one will keep you safe. Come.” She held out her hand, baubles chinking. “Come with me, and I will keep you safe.”

“No. You’re wrong.” I glanced at Tommy’s lifeless form, and then at Cash. He lay hunched over, eyes closed. As if sensing my gaze, his lids opened to display cloudy irises. He was remembering the past. Blind. The tension left my shoulders at the sight. Deep down, I knew I had done the right thing. Cash was whole again. The first time the two parts of his soul joined, he’d also gone blind, causing the accident that killed his father. His blindness was temporary. Achingly temporary.

Petra followed the direction of my gaze and her face contorted in fury. She stalked towards Cash’s form and stopped a few meters away.

“What—him?” She pointed the knife at him. “He can’t keep you safe. He can’t even keep himself safe. You may have healed him, but you have also lit the beacon. The avenging angels will find him. They’re already on their way. He escaped them once, he will not be so lucky a second time. Stop wasting your time. He is weak, a liability. Hurry, we must go.”

Suddenly, I felt his essence softly pulsing at me from where he lay, his aura no longer invisible once I focused on it. His tattoo had grown to cover his entire neck and both arms. I imagined his star map was complete. Marc would know who he was in the before. Even though Cash’s body was in pain, his soul was not.

Perhaps I’d done something right. The thought spurred me on and I stepped between Cash and Petra. “You will not touch a hair on his head.”

“Oh, I wasn’t going for his head.” Her eyes met mine, sparkling.

My stomach spasmed, a painful reminder of my need for sustenance and my eyes sought the vein throbbing on Petra’s—Leila’s—neck. William’s blood had satisfied my hunger. My stomach gurgled, and I licked my lips in anticipation. It was wrong to think like that but I couldn’t help it.

Petra stepped forward, and I leapt away. She was only a meters from my outstretched arms. “Not another step, Petra.”

“Do you think he will want you after this? Do you think he will forgive you for what you’ve done to his soul? Of course not. You violated his trust and put him in harm’s way with your rashness. If you stay, he’ll leave. You’ll be alone—hated like me.” Her smile faltered, worried. “You surprised me. I thought you’d die from the fall into the hole, but you survived. This time, I’ll kill you myself, then follow you back to paradise. You won’t survive when I cut your heart out.”

Petra leapt at me with her knife angled for my throat. Adrenaline scattered in bursts through my body. I knocked her arm sideways, sending the knife into the sand. But she was quick and brought her left hand to my neck and squeezed. The swift pressure made my eyes bulge. I pulled at her hands with mine and kicked out with my foot, but she straddled my body and squeezed her thighs, squashing my middle. Her skin heated under the touch of my fingers. Smoke curled at the connection and she screamed in pain. The insanity in her eyes turned to shock when her body was jerked away from me.

“Run,” Cash urged hoarsely. Still blind, he fell to the ground, groping his temples in agony.

Petra scrambled to retrieve the fallen knife then slashed at the closest body—Cash.

“No!” I vaulted over Cash and tackled her, knocking the knife out of her hand. My muscles ached with strain, black dots swirled across my vision. I was running out of reserves with no one left to supplement me. Now was the time to play my hand. “There is something you haven’t taken into consideration,” I said. “Turns out, I’m not a complete failure as my father initially thought. I’m a Soul-Eater, Petra. You seem to know about the Nephilim world, I’m sure you’d know about that too.”

Her eyes opened wider, the whites glaring in the morning sun.

“I’ll just eat you up,” I said, and jumped on her, knees digging into her middle. “You’ve picked the wrong soul to attach to. You’ll devolve into nothingness, like me.”

A movement near the path brought us back. Armed, masked soldiers dressed in black trooped toward the beach. Their high-tech guns pointed towards us. They would capture me, I knew. But first I had to finish Petra.

And then, she laughed. I had her, but her cackle disarmed me.

“Why are you laughing?” I screamed and shook her body. “You’re going to die!”

“Ha! You are only furthering my plan. Don’t you see? I’ve known exactly what you can do, sister. I just needed you to want me bad enough to deplete your stores, to hunger for me.” She lowered her voice. “You know you are more than a Soul-Eater. They’re extinct. Take me in! When you die, whenever you die, I’ll be with you, part of your flock.”

“I’ll end you first.”

“You won’t kill me.” She coaxed me as one would encourage a child to take her first steps. “You won’t risk your sister’s soul to the universe with me attached to it. No, you want to drink me in, make me a part of you. Save her soul.” She bared her throat to me, daring me to take a bite. “Aren’t you hungry?”

Action exploded around me. Voices barked orders.

“No,” Cash called from behind me. “I need her alive.”

“Show me your hands,” a soldier called from the base of the pathway. His insignificant energy niggled at me.

I gritted my teeth, not taking my eyes off Petra, my true enemy.

“Miss, I have a gun pointed at your head. Show me your hands.” The closest soldier jerked his gun and two more appeared beside him. Metal weapons clicked as the soldiers fell into place. One pointed his gun at Petra, the other soldier aimed at me.

I lifted my palms, in surrender. She stilled beneath me. She didn’t want this. My muscles coiled, my fingers curled, and I snarled. My hunger called. So I pulled secretly on Petra’s life-force, letting her essence trickle in. Like a punch to the stomach, I jerked, winded, when her double-strength life-force hit me, but I kept pulling. If paradise was the afterlife, then maybe hell was inside me—if she wanted a lifetime trapped there, that’s what she’d get. I’d make it my mission to live as long as possible and, with my inner souls gracing me with additional chances at life, that could be a long time.

A shot cracked in the air—a warning. I didn’t flinch.

“Hands in the air,” a soldier boomed. “Last warning.”

Petra clung to her chain of souls and I drew harder on her energy. It hit the back of my tongue and I tasted metal, reminding me of blood, firing my appetite. My eyes rolled with pure pleasure and my skin tingled. I felt alive—invincible.

Vaguely, I knew I needed to sever Petra’s link with Leila’s soul, but instead, I kept draining, unable to stop. Her energy felt too good and, with her supercharged soul, I became hypersensitive to other energy: from the soldiers, from nature and the earth. Voltage danced over my skin, like happy fireflies.

But something was missing. I was doing it wrong. I needed to physically connect on a deeper level to cut her parasitic connection with Leila. I needed, I needed…

Blood roared in my ears. The need was all I felt.

Cash grabbed my shoulder, the pain snapping me out of my trance. His fingers tightened as he took a breath, and when he exhaled, he straightened. From the way he relaxed, I was sure my touch had lessened his pain. “I need her alive, Roo. She has information about my… situation. I can’t afford to let her go. Let the soldiers take her. Please, let them take her.”

I stiffened, trying to grasp the meaning of what he’d just said.

It wasn’t the soldiers, or the witch, it was… I held my breath. He’d called me Roo. Tommy used nicknames, Cash called me La Roux, or Urser. For a moment I forgot the witch, the guns and the hunger. I turned and his white eyes met mine.

“Hunter, need we remind you we’re on a shoot to kill mission?” the soldier said. Wait—he knew Cash? To his comrades, the soldier said, “Shoot the witch.”

“Stop!” I cried out.

Petra scrambled from beneath me. She headed for the ocean. I shoved Cash away and hurled myself at the witch. The excess energy skipping over my skin blew outwards like an atomic bomb. I collided with her, splashing into the surf. My dark memories instructed me to rein in the power at the last moment, to funnel it into a wall and pull it tight across at the top like a dome. I did as I was told. A silent boom rippled in the wet sand from where I sat. The wave of energy hit my body, shifting grains of sand into my hair and face. The barrier blocked the ocean, the remaining inside water soaked into the sand and disappeared. Pressure popped in my ears urging me to swallow. Noise became muffled, and I heard the gunshots echo as if from a great, warbled distance.

I opened my eyes and was alone, together with the witch, in the silent dome.

I grabbed the fallen knife and held it to her neck, against the bulging vein. One swipe and her essence would run free. Her blood sang to me. My mouth watered. My stomach twisted and turned.

Drink.

Drink.

“Do it, sister,” Petra croaked through cracked lips. She held up her necklace. “Take them. Take the souls as payment for mine. You could absorb their knowledge, you could gain more power. We, could gain more power.”

I growled. We weren’t one. If I took her, she would be inside me and I would control her. Struggling for my morality, I fought my hunger and smashed each glass bauble with the hilt of the knife. They popped, and each soul escaped with a crackling sound. Even in the shelter of my dome, their spirits dissolved into nothing, finding a way back into the world. I looked away, unable to admit anything until I felt their life-force completely disperse.

I didn’t want power, I wanted peace.

Thumping echoed around me, insistent, in my ears and in my head. I held up my arm and saw the pulse in my wrist throb with the beat. The protruding jugular in the witch’s neck pulsated. I lowered the knife to her neck and let the blade rest on top of the vibrating vein.

“Tell me all that you know about Cash.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” She turned her head away, the action pulled her neck taut and pushed the cords harder into the knife. A small sliver of blood appeared, and I loosened my grip.

She wanted to die, so I pointed the knife at my own heart.

“Answer me, or I’ll kill myself. I’ll cut my heart out before you get a chance to follow me.” The souls inside me stirred, one would be sacrificed so that I could live again. They knew that, but Petra didn’t. “I’m your only way to the other side, so answer me. Who split his soul into three all those years ago and why? You said he had escaped, but from who? And who is the beacon lit for? Answer me!”

I pushed the knife into my chest, releasing a thin rivulet of red. Her eyes flew wide, and she squirmed beneath me, eyes darting briefly to beyond the dome. With my free hand, I ran a finger over the fresh wound in her neck, splitting the skin. I leaned in and parted my lips to drink, then stopped, hovering over her face.

“Who are you more afraid of, me or Him?” I asked. I wasn’t sure who “He” was, but had a pretty good idea and I wasn’t afraid. “Your best chance is with me.”

Her eyes fluttered closed. “It was Eve, the first witch. It was her revenge for being chased out of Paradise. The hunter is the one who chased her out. He chased them all out.”

I pulled back slightly. Eve was the witch Cash had threatened her with at the beach barbecue. The leader of the coven who had made the treaty. “Why?”

“He was the Queen’s right-hand man, her first commander. Eve wanted to take him away from her, just as Paradise was taken from us. She wanted the Queen to suffer the loss of her lover.” The words tumbled out of her mouth and I sat back on my haunches.

Cash was the Queen’s lover?

“Eve wanted her to feel the same pain and suffering we did when he cast us out of her empire. He was the one who enforced her bidding and ended our human lives.”

Could she be talking about the statues from my father’s story—the ones the Queen had ordered decimated in the great deluge after the Prince betrayed her? Cash smelled like rain, the connection pierced my chest like an arrow hitting home—Cash was the deluge. The myth had been twisted into something humans could understand, a flood. There was more to the story but for now, I had his identity. He was the Queen’s enforcer. But…

“How can I trust you are telling the truth?”

“I was her familiar, she was the first—I was in the next wave.”

“Where is she now?”

She whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head. “Please, just take me. You’ve accepted the souls as my payment. You don’t have to tell Him you didn’t use them. There’s still my soul and your sister’s. If you don’t take us, He will. He will take us for his dark army. You don’t want that for your sister, do you?” She rambled, her voice faded.

If I took both them in, Leila would be safe. I could protect her until I figured out how to separate them. Tears sprung to my eyes when I thought of Leila. I would not abandon her even if she hated me. She was my sister. My stomach cramped, and I sliced Petra’s neck. I bent closer and paused. “There’s something you need to know. I did die when you threw me into the cave, but a soul inside me was sacrificed so I could live again. If you try to kill me prematurely, know that you will only put yourself in danger.”

She tried to scream. I’d hit the nail on the head. She had hoped to kill me from the inside then hasten her trip back to Paradise. I smiled as she struggled and squirmed with the last of her strength, then drank the viscous fluid from her neck until she stilled in my arms.

With the blood came memories.

A little girl played alone, dressed in rags. She watched a group of girls dance by the river’s edge. One, two, three. There were three of them. They laughed and bathed in the sun, braiding each other’s hair and gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes. They were family. The little rag girl looked down at her wooden doll and then back to the girls, dejected. She wanted to have her hair braided too. Maybe she would be loved if she learned to braid hair. She tugged at the beaded hair on the dolly and tried to do the same. When she looked up, the girls had spotted her. They laughed and pointed, faces contorted into cruel masks before turning their backs. She was alone again. The little girl turned to me with tears in her eyes and held out the doll. She flickered in the darkness and faded away.

A familiar raven-haired beauty sat at our kitchen table surrounded by a halo of light. Leila cast her eyes over the words on a newspaper, folding the pages from one side to the other as she read, lips moving silently. She looked up sharply as if she heard a noise and our eyes locked.

I gasped.

She could see me. My heart fluttered. I reached out, but my arms wouldn’t move.

She smiled. “It’s okay,” she seemed to say. The words echoed in the corners of my mind. “It’s okay.” Her face flickered, and the table disappeared. The kitchen fell away and the darkness of my soul threatened to take her into oblivion. I willed my arms to move and latched onto her arms. We fought—the darkness and I, and I refused to let her go, I couldn’t. “It’s okay,” she said, her body fading but my hands still clutching. “This is our fresh start. I can help you from this side. I am not afraid. She fooled us both, but I can make it right by bringing light to balance their darkness and you will see clearly. I was wrong, I didn’t need distance for a fresh start, I needed to be closer to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t a better sister.”

“No, I’m sorry, I should have been there for you,” I cried. “I won’t let the darkness take you.”

But the darkness I fought was me, it was my own private hell. How could I fight myself? Leila hated witches, despised them, yet she was willing to lock herself in a cage with them to fight for me. My hatred for Petra raged, turbulent and relentless. I would make her pay for this. Someday I would get the souls out, and then I would make the witches pay. Leila was right. Absorbing Petra would make the third dark soul inside me. I needed light.

I let go, darkness overwhelmed me and I succumbed to the dizzying sensation of falling then opened my eyes and found the empty shell of my sister’s body lying in my arms. Her life-force had gone and so had Petra’s, but I felt them stir in the darkest depths of my soul. A wave of anxiety hit me as though the four souls warred against each other. The conflict echoed in my trembling body; the darkness tried to outweigh the light. But she didn’t fold. Leila held her ground. She was there.

She was also beneath me with a gaping hole in her neck, evidence of my savagery. The smell of blood and flesh amplified inside my dome of silence. I stood up, stumbling backwards. My body was numb. My mind reeled as I tried to grasp the enormity of what I’d done. My hand covered my mouth. I drank my sister’s blood. I’d killed her.

I was a monster. My incredible high plummeted like a body-rocking overdose. Darkness stippled my vision. The blur of Leila’s body was all I could see as I staggered backwards. A movement tickled the edge of my consciousness and I whipped around then recoiled from intense vertigo, both hands clutching my head. Soldiers banged on my invisible wall with the butt of their guns, trying to get through the thick energy. Everyone spun around me as though on a merry-go-round, and the earth shifted. My eyes rolled back, and I lost control of the shield, letting it drop with a whoosh. Noise slammed into my being and I fell backwards to land on the shore with a splash, blinking at the blue swirly sky. The cool ocean lapped at my skull, then traveled to my shoulders in a calming and nurturing caress.

Through the commotion, I heard a comforting voice.

“Roo,” Cash said, followed by splashing and grunting—someone was fighting.

Water hit me again in a wave, its soothing embrace worked at clearing my mind and I noticed a curious lack of noise. The fighting had subsided. The soldiers hadn’t come for me. Someone barked orders, and I winced at the noise.

“Take the body, clear the evidence.”

The evidence?

“Roo!” Cash’s panic filled the air but I couldn’t move an inch. A burst of sorrow sprang from deep inside and burned my eyes. Tears ran to meet the water, and I sobbed. If they wanted to take me, I didn’t care.

“Roo—where are you? I can’t see. The water masks your scent.” More splashing to my right.

I wept for my sister and for the little girl Petra used to be. I wept for Tommy, because I would never see his puffy, laughing eyes again, and Kitty and Alvin. I didn’t know if they were alive. I gulped deeply. There was not enough air in the world to satisfy my need for oxygen.

“ROO! Where are you? I can’t see.”

His urgency snapped me out of my misery long enough to croak, “I’m here,” and soddenly roll to my side, catching sight of the men who carried my sister’s body away. I winced and closed my eyes.

“Keep talking, I can’t see you. Are you okay?”

“I’m here,” I said again, and dragged myself into a sitting position. “I’m alive.”

Cash stumbled and fell in a splash. His hands found my shoulders then fumbled around my body. His eyes were still white, his skin pasty.

“I’m okay,” I said, and grasped his wrists, trying to steady his panic.

He flinched at my touch, but then placed a palm on either side of my face, feeling my cheekbones with his thumbs. He shook my face gently.

“I couldn’t see you, I couldn’t hear anything.” His voice was brittle, and his blind eyes darted heavenward before shutting and squeezing tight. He inhaled deeply. “I couldn’t keep you safe. Fuck these feelings I can’t think straight.”

He exhaled and yanked me into his embrace, my face squished against his chest, deaf to everything but the sound of his heart beating like a snare drum.

“Are you hurt?” I asked, not sure what to make of his emotional response, but his powerful arms didn’t let go.

“No, I mean yes—fuck!” He squeezed and little by little, my muscles relaxed. I allowed my arms to curl around his warm body and held him tightly.

He pushed me away fiercely and scowled. “What the hell were you thinking? I told you I needed to question her. She’s dead isn’t she?”

“I-I,” I stuttered, not sure what to say. “I got some information out of her. It’s okay.”

“Fuck it, Roo. How the fuck do you know what information I need?” He shook me by the shoulders, rattling my teeth. “You might have ruined everything.”

“Oh shit, Cash. I’m sorry, I didn’t think, I was—”

“You didn’t think!” He growled and let go.

Coolness rippled over my skin as a shadow fell over our bodies. Someone cleared his throat, but the sun blinded me, and all I could see was a pair of black army boots.

“Samson,” a gruff voice said. “How are you going to explain this mess to the public? Do you have a plan, or do you need me to do your job for you—again?”

I knew that voice. I frowned and lifted my hand to shield my eyes. Cash grasped my shoulder, fingers penetrating deep. “General Urser, it’s… I can explain,” Cash said.

Fear, hate and regret stabbed through me all at once. “Son-of-a-bitch. You two know each other?” I stood up and stumbled backwards into the water.

Cash flinched as his hand fell from my body.

“Now, now, is that any way to greet your father?”

Chapter 33

We were back at Urser Manor. I’d been placed under house arrest in Leila’s room until the testosterone-engorged crew decided my fate. Downstairs, they argued. I put my ear to the door and caught a phrase or two but the nonsensical banter of the guards in front of the room blocked anything else. Normally, I’d hate men deciding my fate, but for now, I was exhausted and confused.

I gathered that my father and some sort of special unit had cleaned up the incident and covered it up. They sent all the sleeping beauties home and attended to the injured—including Kitty and Alvin. They were recovering in hospital. Any stragglers were chased down and influenced to blame everything on the Inquisitor who was also in the hospital, but under protective custody.

Who were these people, and why did they bow down to my father?

Shouting between Cash and my father grew louder. They weren’t fighting over the fact that I’d killed someone, or about the witch and her murderous rampage. They weren’t even arguing about the hate-group’s actions. They were fighting about who got me—who would manage my welfare and be in charge of my unique brand of skills, and who got to take me to the Ludus to learn about the Game. Marc had predicted they would fight over who got to use me. He’d been right.

I huffed and turned back to my prison. My room had been gutted from the move, which meant no clean clothes or supplies, so I borrowed my sister’s. I moved past her daisy-quilted bed, trailed a finger over her fake flower arrangement and inspected a small, wired metal box with suction pads—her dream-catcher. I turned away and tugged Leila’s brush through my freshly showered hair, ripping out chunks with every stroke. The strands dangling from the bristles were red. They kept returning to red.

My blood boiled. I didn’t know which bastard to hate more: bastard-number-one for presuming he could walk back into my life and assume control of me, or bastard-number-two for lying about knowing bastard-number-one. And to think Cash had spouted honesty from his high horse.

“Ugh!” I hurtled the brush at the door. It landed with a thunk and dropped to the ground. The guards’ conversation paused, then picked up again with a chuckle.

The thought of Cash and my father working together infuriated me. I felt chewed up and spat out, just like the half-eaten muffin on the bedside table. That sent me down another level self pity because, even though I was ravenous, food didn’t agree with me. My hunger had been sated by blood and life-force, but it only sustained one part of me. My nerves sang every time I thought of it. I pushed away the craving and sipped on some orange juice, letting the sweetness trickle into my cramped insides, calming my nerves.

I plonked down on the bed. Did I have the right to be angry with my father? He’d just managed a massive cover-up and had probably saved me from persecution. I thought back to the early years. I supposed he’d been an attentive father, then. He’d told us stories, took Leila to therapy, and always made sure we had enough money… until he left. It was entirely possible he’d sent Cash to watch over me. But did those deeds outweigh his abandonment when I’d needed him most? Maybe his reappearance was a symptom of manipulation.

I twisted my hair into a bun then let it cascade down my shoulders. I stared at the ceiling and counted the corners, stewing over Cash. What an idiot I’d been, assuming I knew the right questions to ask Petra. I’d stuffed up big time. He really yelled at me. Dropped the f-bomb a few times. That hurt. Maybe I could make it up to him if I could get the souls inside to speak to me… or even force some memories to surface, somehow. They stirred, restless. They didn’t like that idea.

Cash hadn’t told me about his connection to my father. Was that so bad? He’d done nothing but look after me since he arrived. And what had I done for him? Got his brother killed that’s what. On the plus side, I’d reunited his broken soul with its missing tripartite. That was a win, right?

I rubbed my eyes and rolled onto my side, curling around a pillow. A crash downstairs shook the house and a new bout of shouting ensued. I’m sure I heard the word “mentor”. My father must be having trouble accepting that Cash had completed the ritual with me. The crash was probably a fist through a door or something. Ha! Control that, bastard-number-one. I smiled as I drifted to sleep.

I woke with a start, thinking somebody was in the room with me. My eyes adjusted as I scanned the room and blinked a few times, holding my breath. A shadow moved at the foot of my bed and I picked up a familiar energy signature.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, love.”

“Marc?” I rubbed my eyes just to make sure then squinted and checked his state of undress. Starkers again. He stood before me wearing a smirk and his older suave self, hands covering his family jewels, out of respect, I supposed—or fear.

It’s a dream, I thought. He’s in my head. Out loud, I said, “Don’t you dare think you’ve got the run of my dreams. I’m totally in control this time.” I waved my finger at him. That ought to do it.

“Oh? Shame.” His eyebrow quirked. “You’re a lot easier to communicate with this time though. You know this is how I communicate, right? Through dreams?”

So this dream was real. The last one must have been as well.

“Bloody hell, love, I’m the flippin’ god-of-the-in-between.” He sounded offended that I hadn’t put two and two together. “Dreams are in between.”

“Right, sorry. God-of-the-in-between. Got it.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes.

I sat up in my bed and swung my legs over the edge. The sight of his naked body, whilst not unpleasant, was becoming a common sight.

“So, what’s up?” I waved my hands in front of my face. Yep, they certainly looked real, then I pinched the flesh of my palm just in case and yelped.

“There’s a joke in there but, considering I’m here on actual business, I won’t say it. Too much respect for you, yeah?”

“Well, thank you for your consideration, sir. You are too kind.” I stood up and curtseyed with a flourish.

“That’s quite all right, love. Few women can handle all of this.” His face flickered to the younger version. It appeared the immature Marc was just dying to get out.

He cleared his throat and said, “We have a problem.”

“I know who Cash is,” I said at the same time.

We spoke over each other, blustering through a series of questions and answers until I held up my hand and said, “You first.”

“Pet, you first.”

“I should probably tell Cash before I go blabbing his secrets,” I said.

“All right then, love. Me first. Your father is here.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I knew that.”

“Oh.” Marc sat next to me, still covering his genitals. He looked genuinely puzzled. “Do you know then, that he’s Cash’s ex-mentor?”

My blood turned cold. I shook my head.

“And do you know that they aren’t allied?”

I didn’t know what that meant, but my best guess was trouble.

Marc launched into an explanation. “You see, Little Red, when I found the lad, he was confused and alone and a wee bit barmy. Two of his parts had just reunited, and he didn’t have a clue he was part of this Game—much like you, love. He was on a rampage—hunting witches and killing them for money. This all happened about the time your old man left you, yeah? Your father thought his investment had been ousted by a bloody witch, a whore of evolution. You know what I’m saying, yeah?”

“Uh, no.”

“Well, I’ve been doing some research. You were supposed to be a warrior princess, but instead you showed signs of being the witch who attacked your mother. When you were accused by the public, your father thought he’d wasted all those years on a witch and, as your mother wasn’t alive to give him more offspring, he left.

“You see, your father isn’t supposed to play the Game, he’s a Watcher. But as Royalty, he has to create supernatural bodies for the Players. Remember? I told you. Our souls won’t fit in a normal Simon. And that blood tie gives him an advantage—his Players pass on their evolutionary points to him when they finish their Game. When he thought you’d bodged it all up, and he heard about Cash—a strong and powerful warrior—he offered his hand.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Hmm.” Marc scratched his stubble and shuffled closer to me with his hips. “About four years.”

My shoulders slumped. “That was before my trial.” My father knew he’d be leaving before I was accused of witchcraft. The notion he was Petra’s boss wouldn’t leave my mind. Maybe my father enlisted her to put me on pause while he sorted out his connection with Cash. That’s essentially what the collar had done, stopped my sixth sense from developing. If I was right, then he was responsible for the shit I’d suffered since Petra had turned up in my life.

“Oi, love.” Marc slapped his thigh to get my attention. “Let me finish. So there are three kinds of relationships in the Game: parent and child; mentor and progeny; and ally or enemy. They’re in that order, too. Under the tutelage of your father, your mate Cash finished his trials within six months, then immediately declared himself an independent Player. Your father was right pissed, he was. Disgraced for sure. I mean, yeah, he’d get the bonus points at the end of the Game, but he’d just used up his get-out-of-jail-free card on someone who didn’t want him. He’s also had his daughter pilfered from him, and his plan to illegally smuggle souls to the other side thwarted.” He slapped his hands together and made a squashing action. “You know about that right? You figured it out?”

“That he was gathering souls, yeah I did. I kinda guessed he was the one Petra collected for. But I don’t know why.” If my father knew I’d harvested at least four, he’d probably do anything to get them.

“I’ve had my suspicions about your father. I believe he is the miscreant who caused the rebellion, swayed his cousin the Prince. You see, so that makes him the Queen’s nephew. Following? They weren’t satisfied with this three-dimensional piece of real estate anymore. They want all of the Queen’s territory, they want to take her Empire. And this planet was the only thing standing in the way. Created as a place where all lands could come in harmony to experience the marvels from across the galaxy, now, it’s a place where they’re all free to play out their sick games without actually hurting themselves. But Urser… well, let’s just say we’re investigating. We need proof before I oust him, so mom’s the word, yeah?” He tapped his nose.

Pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. “Cash found out.”

“Yeah, as soon as Cash discovered his mentor was a slimy bastard, he split. It’s the reason we get along so well, he and I. He’s a chip off the old block, barely a splinter really, I mean… look at me.” He watched his biceps as he tensed them a couple of times as though he spoke to them, and then cleared his throat. When he turned back, his eyes were full of arrogance. “But, he’s a good chap and he’s helped me in this silent war. We need to protect the Empire.”

I held my breath. Should I tell him? About Cash and his connection to the Queen?

Marc must have mistaken my silence for a need for comfort. He draped his arm over my shoulder then squeezed me against the side of his chest. His thumb ran circles on my skin.

“Do you need a hug, love?” he whispered into my hair.

Yep, he was a charmer, all right.

“I see what you are doing, Marc, and it’s not going to work.” I peeled his fingers off and placed his hand back in his lap.

“What am I doing?”

“I don’t know, exactly. Why are you telling me all this?”

“You have to choose sides. Your father’s, or ours.” He jerked his head up and listened for a sound I couldn’t hear. “I have to go. I’m being called.”

I strained my ears. “How does one call you Marc?”

He stood up, hands dangling at his sides and winked. “You must be in possession of my true name and you, my dear, haven’t progressed to that level yet. Cheerio, love.”

“Wait,” I called.

Marc flickered. He staggered red-faced and fell against the wall. I thought he was sweating. That was new. “Cor blimey, love, don’t do that again. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to stop mid-stream? It’s likely to give a man a heart attack.” He clutched his hand over his heart and winced.

“I need to tell you about Cash. The witch said—”

Stop!

The voices seemed to speak as if they were one soul, not four.

You tell him and you’re putting yourself in danger. There are those who would kill for that information.

“C’mon, love. Don’t keep me in suspense, yeah?”

The voices could be right, but Marc said he and Cash were on the same side. Maybe I should check with Cash first. “I mean… that is… can’t you tell any more by his markings now? Them being complete and all?”

His eyes narrowed, his mouth flattened, the dimple in his chin deepened. Pure suspicion. “Well, it’s more like a map to where he is from, but it doesn’t say who he is. The bigger the map, the more influence he has. Cash’s is pretty huge. And his markings show the queerest thing…” His voice trailed off as he searched my face.

“What?”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you, wouldn’t I?”

Marc leaned in, brows furrowed. “You need to wake up Roo, he’s here.”

“Huh?”

Wake up, Roo.

Chapter 34

A pounding at the door woke me from my dream. I opened my eyes, and the world was full of color again. The shock of being pulled from that dream state caused a sort of sleep paralysis. My body refused to do as it was told, but I could see all around me with perfect clarity. The pounding became more insistent, and I winced at the angry sound.

“What?” I growled.

“Honey?” The door opened a crack and my father stuck his head in.

Oh, I see how this is going to go. Terms of endearment already. I could only imagine the sucking up he was going to do. It seemed, after seeing my awesome witch-fighting skills at the beach, he’d changed his view on things. Suddenly I was “Honey”. I sat up in the bed, but held the covers to my chin while my father inched his towering frame through the doorway. When I gave no objections from deep under the quilt, he sat at the foot of my bed. It was an action he’d repeated many times in my youth. It usually heralded a lecture, reprimand or a deep and meaningful conversation.

“Roo-Roo.” His voice was a masculine rumble, the kind that came with age and wisdom. Ha! Wisdom my ass. I didn’t care if he was an ancient god. He was just my asshole father. I might have been fooled by the look of concern in the S-O-B’s eyes, if it weren’t for his unwavering and flat-lining aura.

“Bruce.” Son-of-a-bitch.

He narrowed his eyes. I could practically see the cogs turning in that big head of his; he didn’t like me using his first name. For his age, he looked pretty damn good. No crow’s feet around the blue eyes, no sagging lids, supple skin beneath his beard, blonde of course. I guessed most gods were. Cash and I were the abnormal ones, and The Ludus would probably be full of Barbie and Ken dolls.

“I can’t say I’m happy with your exchange with Samson but, after much debate, it’s decided we can’t break the mentor-progeny agreement and he will continue your preparation for your trials.”

My brows shot up. “I don’t see why you being happy should be my concern. You left me to the whims of a psycho in favor of a better candidate for your bloody Game.” Yeah, that’s right S-O-B, I know why you left. “And it doesn’t explain what you’ve been doing since you finished with Cash. There’s a bunch of time missing. You want a say in my life? Then you need to be honest.”

His lack of reaction was more damning than an admission. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweet-pea. I’m well aware of my inopportune timing with my expedition to America, but I apprised your aunt before I left.” His forehead crinkled for maximum effect. “Did she not mention any of it to you at all?”

“You know very well Aunt Lucy had been possessed.”

“I did not. Did you?”

Well, he had me there. It had taken me three years to figure it out. “I guess not.”

“Well, I’m here now, and she’s gone. We can see about mending the bridges.” He patted my leg. “I’m proud of the way you handled yourself with the witch. By the way, do you know what happened to her glass necklace?”

Yeah, I smashed it with the hilt of my knife and let the souls escape. “It was damaged in the struggle. Why?”

“It’s a stolen artifact, and we were hoping to return it to its rightful owner. That’s a shame.”

He stood up and rubbed his hands together. “Well, never mind. This recent tour of duty had me gone for much longer than I’d intended and you’ve missed your registration. I take it you’ve met the Gamekeeper?” His slight sneer told me he wasn’t a fan of Marc which made me like Marc even more.

I nodded.

“So this is what’s going to happen—you’ll go to a Ludus to train. I’m thinking the Sydney one would be best and, once there, you will be registered alongside your brother.”

I choked on the muffin I’d been casually nibbling, thumped my chest and swallowed. “What?”

He ignored my question. “You’ll live in the royal quarters for six months until you’ve completed your trials. Following successful completion, and entrance granted into the Game, you will announce your allegiance to the Urser House at the Libertine Ball and fulfill your duties as befitting of someone of your standing.”

“What did you say?”

“You have just over six months to complete your trials.”

“No, the other thing.”

“You have a brother. Well, half-brother if you want to get picky. His name is Lincoln.” He watched my face. “It’s not unheard of for royals to have more than one child to different biological partners. It’s so we can create a more diversified mix of bodies for Players to inhabit. I’ve produced hundreds of offspring over my lifetime.”

“You have other families?” A chill spread to my extremities.

“Yes. Well, just one at this point in time. But you will too because part of your responsibility in the Game is to create more Players.” He smoothed his black military pants. “Samson may have pulled you away from your bloodline, but that’s only temporary. Human law still stands and, as an unmarried female, you are subject to my authority. That includes where you live and who you live with.”

Son-of-a-bitch.

“But Cash is my sponsor,” I said weakly.

“That’s all changed—in fact, you were the one that started the ball rolling, if you remember? The video of the witch attacking you sparked the adjustments to the Geneva Convention, treaties and protocols. Cash was only your guardian temporarily. He’s not your husband, so that leaves me.” His voice rose in pitch and his aura twitched.

“What about our home? Who’s going to manage the vineyard?” Yeah, okay, I clutched at straws. I hated wine, but it could be my only way out.

He flared his nostrils, then his aura went haywire. His energy suddenly increased, and I found it hard to breathe. Had he been holding back all this time? Was it a game to him? Was he still holding back? My eyes watered, and my mind reeled, but I refused to let him see his effect on me.

Finally he pinched the bridge between his nose and spoke as if I were a cumbersome child. “I’ve had just about enough of this, La Roux. I don’t know why you think you have any say in the matter.” He pointed at my chest. “I own that body, I made it. You have to do as you are told. I’ve arranged for Lucy and Leila to be cremated, and the Estate is being sold. The money will be held in a trust until you complete your trials. There’s nothing left for you here. You’ll return to Sydney with me.”

“You had them cremated?” I straightened, fuming. “You had no right to make that decision without me. I’m their family too.”

“They were both maleficent victims, they had to be burned.”

“But I wanted to have a memorial, I need to…” The words wouldn’t come. I needed to say goodbye? Pay my respects?

He looked at me like I was fourteen again. “Well, let this be your first lesson as a Player: human life is fleeting. Death is what it is. I loved your mother dearly, and her life was cut short. You have to pick yourself up and move on, or you get left behind.”

He wasn’t Leila’s father. He’d just admitted it by calling her human. And he’d loved my mother? I’d thought she was just a breeding machine. But to fight him was futile. If I stayed, my friends would be in danger and the ones I’d lost would still be gone. A lump stuck in my throat. Tommy.

I would leave, but on my terms.

I steeled my eyes. “Before I go to the Ludus, I’m going to help Cash take his brother’s body home. Tommy’s death was my fault. Cash is my mentor and I want to keep training and, in case you haven’t noticed, Cash was blinded in the attack. He’s going to need help for the next week or two. I won’t leave him while he can’t see.” My father gave me daggers. “If you let me do this, I’ll not kick up a stink about the rest.” I cringed as the words left my mouth but it gave me more time to come up with a better plan. I sure as hell wasn’t going to live under his command, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to breed for the benefit of this stupid Game, I didn’t care what he expected of me.

His face softened, and he drew me into a hug. My tangled hair caught in his calloused hands as he stroked my head. He smelled like coffee, not at all like a soldier. It reminded me of my childhood and his early morning visits to the local café for a “real coffee”. Not the instant kind we had at home. For a god, he sure seemed human sometimes. My stomach squirmed. I didn’t want to have nostalgic thoughts about him. I wanted to hate him. He had just used my mother to gain sympathy. I didn’t trust him.

He hugged me tighter. Tears stung my eyes, but I gritted my teeth. I was torn. How could this coffee-scented, hugging man be the black hole of a devil?

“Oh, Roo. I only did all of this to avenge your mother and it’s all ended up a complete mess,” he said cryptically and kissed my head. “Never mind, we’ll get back on track.”

I pulled out of his embrace and sat stiffly. It was time to face my family head on. “Well, that may be, but the dad I knew and the one sitting in front of me are two different people. As far as I see it, we were born into these bodies with no memory of our former selves for a reason. You need to earn trust and you’ve lied to me my whole life.”

He lifted his chin. “I cared for you and raised you for the first twenty years of your life. Can you not trust that I have your best interests at heart? I always have.”

I shrugged. “Like I said, that was a different person, and I am a different person. I agree, it’s time to mend bridges but if you want me to trust you, then you have to trust me. Let me go with Cash, bury his brother, then I’ll come to this Ludus place in two weeks and we’ll take it from there.”

An awkward pause filled the room. His energy rattled, but eventually he nodded and stood up. “So, I’ll leave you in Samson’s hands for two weeks, and then meet you in Sydney. By that stage I may have had the Tribunal overturn his mentorship and have gotten you out of this mess.”

I feigned a yawn and covered my mouth with my hand.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I need to take the team back to the City for debrief and tie up loose ends. I suggest you do the same. It may be awhile before you come back to this town, if ever.”

He left the room, and I chewed over our conversation until the thumping sounds in the house had stopped. I combed my fingers through my scraggly bird’s nest, then flattened Leila’s disheveled sundress and padded downstairs barefoot.

I slowed at the bottom of the steps. The house was eerily quiet. I tiptoed around, poked my head into the kitchen, and found it empty. No dishes in the sink, no newspaper on the table, just dust and the afternoon sun filtering through the window. I guzzled a glass of water and resumed the tour of the ground floor. I wandered past the front hall again and noticed a fist shaped hole in the wall, next to the photo frame gallery. I didn’t know which bastard had done it, but someone had been pissed off.

I peeked into the living room. Everything seemed the same with its Victorian couches, grand ornate coffee table and bookshelf filled with dusty old books. I was just about to head back upstairs when I heard shuffling from the couch. A familiar essence trickled into my awareness. It grew stronger as I focused on it. Strange. I could only sense him when I knew he was there; his aura tried to hide.

I peered over the couch. Cash snoozed in the fetal position, facing the quilted wall. I found a throw rug stored under the coffee table and placed it gently over his body. He whimpered and rolled onto his back, brow creasing and lips parting as he inhaled. The ambient light shone against his sweaty brow and his tattoo stretched tightly over his neck, up to the base of his ears. He still wore filthy clothes from the night before: a dirty white business shirt and suit pants. He must have been in too much pain to move.

He flinched and twitched every so often and I’d bet my bike he was reliving a past life. I crouched and watched silently. Every now and then, he muttered something under his breath in another language. It sounded like Mandarin at one stage, then unmistakably French. A thousand lives flooded his consciousness, some of them good and some probably bad. An ache spread in my chest.

I wanted to ease his pain. Should I try? Maybe I should try a game. “All right,” I whispered to myself. “Here’s the game: if I pull more than three strands of hair out, I’ll touch him and help alleviate the pain. If not, I’ll go back upstairs and wait until morning.” I ran my hand through my hair, gripping any strands that came loose. I held my hand in front of my face. Nothing. I rolled my eyes, duh. I had just washed and brushed my hair. The results were skewed.

I thumped my head with my palm. “Stupid,” I said softly.

“Don’t beat yourself up, Probie, that’s my job.” The words that came from Cash’s mouth sounded so much like his brother’s that I startled and fell back on the coffee table.

“You’re awake.”

“That’s a matter of opinion.” He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“How are you feeling?” I asked. “Do you want a drink? Something to eat?”

He opened his cloudy eyes and tilted his head towards me. “A water would be nice, thank you, but I don’t think I could eat.”

When I returned, he sat up and downed the glass in a couple of gulps then flopped back on the couch, arm over his eyes. I set the empty glass on the table.

I lowered my fingers to his forehead, but pulled them back at the last second. “I thought I could help with the pain. Don’t get me wrong. I’m pretty pissed off that you didn’t tell me about my father, but I guess I understand. He’s an asshole, and I screwed up too. I’m sorry about that. But maybe I can help with your pain, do something good for once.”

“No, I’m sorry I yelled at you, it was a difficult situation.” He rubbed his temples and spoke with his eyes closed. “I should have told you the truth, I just didn’t… care at the time. I do now…” His words trailed off with an exhaled breath. His voice probably echoed in his skull like a jackhammer. I’d avoid talking too.

Without waiting for an invitation, I made myself comfortable, sat sideways on the carpet next to the couch and put my cool palm on his hot forehead.

“Oh.” A sharp sigh escaped him. “That feels good.” Then he turned into a rag doll and sank lower on the couch. “How are you doing this? It’s like your fingers are morphine. They instantly calm the turbulence and stop the pain.” His hand rose to cover mine. “Don’t take it away.”

I smiled. I was actually doing something right for once. “I don’t know how I do it. It’s not part of my witchcraft side. It didn’t work on Alvin. Only you.” I shrugged. “I just hope I’m not taking something from you. I seem to have this uncanny ability to accidentally cause damage. Tell me if you feel weak or lethargic okay?”

“I don’t,” he breathed. “Definitely better.”

I sat quietly and waited until his breathing evened out. Then I had to ask, “What’s it like, with him in there?” My voice came out steady, but it made me uncomfortable to know he had Tommy’s and thousands of other people’s memories churning through his brain. But it was more than memories; it was Tommy. “What do you remember?” I prompted, keen to see if we experienced the same thing.

He opened his eyes and stared blindly at the ceiling, then slotted his palms to rest behind his head. “It’s like I’m trying to remember the words to a familiar tune. My body seems to know how to move to the melody, but my brain can’t find the words. Sometimes, I’ll see visions or memories like I’m watching a movie. Other times it’s just feelings, smells or sounds.” He shivered at the last word then slid his arms down and interlocked them on his chest, careful not to dislodge my palm from his forehead.

His eyes fluttered closed as I stroked the line over his brow with my thumb.

“I haven’t called Ma yet,” he said under his breath.

I didn’t know what to say, so kept quiet. Eventually, his breathing evened, and I lowered my head on my arm. This close, I could hear his heart beat in his chest, then echo in his half-hidden aura. They slowed, and I sensed the tension ease out of his body as he drifted to sleep. The shadows of his abdomen moved with each intake of air and I had the sudden urge to trail my fingers over the ridges then stopped short. Not here for that. This was purely for medicinal reasons, I told myself and locked away my emotion. I had feelings for him, I could admit it, but the connection probably had to do with experiencing a life-changing trauma with him. They called it hero syndrome or something. Yeah. That’s what it was because I couldn’t admit it meant anything more. If it did, then it could easily be taken away from me.

And that hurt too much to think about.

Besides, there were too many uncertainties in my future, and his. Petra said he belonged to the Queen in more ways than one, and I had my family to contend with. First things first. I had to sort my own life out before tangling myself in anyone else’s. I sighed and couldn’t help sweeping my hand across his forehead, it would be a nice, hot and steamy tangle though.

I leaned against the edge of the couch. I’d rest my eyes a few seconds, just until I was sure he comfortably slept, then head back upstairs to the comfort of Leila’s bed.

Chapter 35

Heat pushed down on me with a blistering weight and my tongue was like sandpaper. I ached all over. My hand shot out, searching for the cool of untouched sheet, but rubbed along a bristly, bumpy surface instead. I peeled one eye open. Dust bunnies lit by the morning sun greeted me from under the coffee table.

I wiped the corners of my mouth and tried to sit up, but something weighed me down. I peered down the length of my body. I was covered in a fur blanket, with a big heavy arm draped over my hip.

I must have fallen to the floor in my sleep, and Cash had naturally gravitated towards his personal anesthetist. We’d ended up spooning. Not only was his arm over me, but his leg also covered mine under the covers as though he was desperate to hold onto me. My dress had bunched around my hips, but thankfully his hand had stayed decently over the fur throw rug.

Thankful. Are you really thankful?

“Shut up voices,” I mumbled. You don’t get to tease me.

I lay there trying to decide whether I wanted to pee first, or run to the kitchen for a drink. Then again, it was nice listening to him breathe softly next to my ear. At peace.

It didn’t really matter. I was wedged between a coffee table and a giant man-shaped sauna, and my hip ached from being pressed into the floor by the weight of his palm. I wiggled and flexed, then attempted to lift his hand. He stirred and his grip on my waist tightened. His mouth landed on the skin under my ear, and he nuzzled into me.

“Où allez-vous, Sephie?” His voice was deep, raspy and heavy with sleep. He said something else in French and thrust his hips into the soft cushion of my rear.

It took everything in me not to push back. He thought I was someone else. My heartbeat thumped in my ears, and I licked my lips. “I need to pee. Wee-wee?” I cracked a joke at his language choice, hoping to alleviate the awkwardness.

“Sorry,” he said, now fully awake. He lifted his head off me, sat upright and shifted his leg. “I thought you were someone else.”

The second he disengaged, he tensed, holding his palms to his eyes. “Ah, fuck.” He rolled away. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His words were muffled in the shelter of his arms. His pain must have flashed back the second he let go of me.

“I’m sorry,” I said and stood up. “But I really need to go to the bathroom. Are you okay?”

“Mmm.” He rolled onto his stomach, mumbling and moaning into the carpet.

I tiptoed out of the room, paid the bathroom a visit and gathered us both a glass of water on the way back.

“How long will the blindness and pain last?” I asked when I returned.

He had reclined back on the couch with his arm draped over his eyes, his breath shallow. His tattoos looked faded in the light of the day. I drank my water in a few big gulps and placed the empty glass on the coffee table. I nudged his into his hands.

He took a sip. “I’m not sure. The last time it was about a week or two.” He scrubbed his face and ran his hand through his hair, leaving the ends sticking up. “I need to call Ma.”

A stab of guilt surged through me and I sat down on the coffee table. “Tell her it’s all my fault,” I said through a tight throat. “Do you want me to call her?”

“No. It’s not your fault, its mine,” he said. “They thought I was on vacation and insisted he come with me. Ma thought I was going off the rails, didn’t trust me on my own. Back then I calculated my actions according to risk and probability. I thought coming here was a harmless reconnaissance mission and…” His voice trailed off. Then he turned to me. “Are you coming home with me? I told your father he had no choice but to let you stay with me, but I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to.” He sounded hopeful and very unlike Cash. “But your self-defense and combat skills are regrettable, your abilities need honing, and you have much to learn before arriving at The Ludus. With your current lack of discipline, we need all the time we can get.”

And there he was—classic Cash.

“You’re blind. I can’t exactly let you go alone. And it was my fault. Petra would never have attacked Tommy if it weren’t for me so, yes I’m coming. It’s my way of apologizing.” I paused. “But, I need you to be honest for a second—what made you pick this town? Did my father send you?”

The hairs on my arms stood on end when his sightless eyes bore holes through me. I waved my hand in front of his face but he didn’t react.

“Yes, it was my time with your father that prompted my visit, but he didn’t send me.” His voice was soft, and he flinched with every word. My fingers itched to relieve his pain, but he was either too stubborn, or too proud to ask for help. “There were a lot of rumors flying around about your father during my trials. One of them was that he’s building an army to cross the interstellar boundaries to the Empire and take it by force, but something’s holding him back. I knew he worked with an ancient witch who claimed to have possession of The Book of the Dead. This book had the key to decoding the soul. He’ll deny he had anything to do with her, but I heard it from too many sources for it to be a lie.”

He slouched, his long legs wide, then continued, “When I finished my trials and declared independent, he lost his cool, and I was kicked out of The Ludus. I returned home for a brief time to work, but eventually came snooping around here. In the end, my hunch paid off. Petra was here. I thought Leila was you, but she hadn’t seen my markings, and it appeared like she was the failed Nephilim download. I didn’t know he had step-daughter. I was working on a way to exterminate Petra with little attention when she attacked you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew my father from the start?” I placed a hand on the skin of his knee where it showed underneath the ripped fabric.

He sighed as the pain relief hit and tilted his head back on the couch, exposing his neck and square jawline. “I couldn’t trust you. But after spending more time with you and learning that you didn’t know who you were, that changed. I knew your father would come back for you and I couldn’t let him take you. It wasn’t right. But I guess it all worked out, and you used the witch’s knowledge to glue my broken pieces back together. Thank you, by the way. You have no idea how… whole I feel.”

My cheeks heated. “I didn’t use The Book of the Dead, or witchcraft. It was just something I did because it felt right.”

“I knew it. Marc was wrong about you. A Soul-Eater can’t do what you did. They absorb souls. They don’t manipulate others. Their skill is a one way street. You have something special, Roo.” He placed his hand over mine on his leg and squeezed. “But don’t tell anyone. Please. Not even Marc. Not until we know more about it. It could put you in danger.”

“Doesn’t he already know what I did to you?”

“He doesn’t know you facilitated it. He thinks it was proximity and timing. Just keep it to yourself until we figure out who you were. This war is bigger and deadlier than you realize. We only know what we’re told by the Watchers. We could be in some giant science experiment for all we know. So I’m going with my instincts which tell me that you and I are made of the same thing and for some reason, I feel like I know you. I can’t explain it, but I trust you.”

“Yeah, about that…” I shifted uncomfortably on the coffee table. My instinct was to tell Cash what Petra had said. “I…” I felt movement in the corner of the room and clamped my jaw shut.

Marc’s naked, teenaged version, solidified inside a shimmering mirage. He wore nothing but an incorrigible grin and bounced eagerly with excitement.

Cash sat up, deadly straight, when he felt my hand tense. “What is it?” he asked, voice low.

“Marc.”

His fingers relaxed, and he let go.

“Mate, I know who you are,” Marc stated as he punch-danced across the room. His cockney accent was thicker in his younger form.

“Put some clothes on, Marc,” I said.

He watched me brazenly as he manifested skinny, cropped jeans and a baggy Hawaiian shirt. He wore expensive looking loafers—sans socks, of course—and a tan fedora hat. All he needed was a pair of uncool reading glasses, or a waxed mustache to complete the hipster look.

“How do you do that?” I asked.

He tapped the side of his nose. “Love, it would be like trying to explain what air feels like to a fish.” He spun around, giving me a show. His godly eyes sparkled. “What about these threads, yeah? Pulled a fit chick last night at the cricket wearing this.”

“You were at the cricket while we were fighting for our lives?” I balked.

“Of course.”

“You were saying?” Cash interrupted.

“Right. Yes. I was saying.” He looked at Cash and paled. “Your markings are fading.” He jabbed a finger at me. “What have you done? It’s bad enough yours have disappeared completely, but you’re taking his too? You need to stay away from him, love. There’s no telling what else you’re draining.” He nudged me with his finger and his energy spiked. “Bloody parasite. This man’s too important for you to be interfering with, yeah?”

“Wha—? Ouch.” Marc poked me again. “Hey!” I jumped away from the jabbing finger and eyed off Cash’s markings. They did seem lighter, like a faded picture book. “You think I did that?” My words trembled. “On purpose?”

Marc stepped between us and lifted Cash’s tattered shirt.

“Hey.” Cash swatted Marc’s hands away. “Make yourself at home, why don’t you?” The sarcasm was a new addition to the Cash repertoire, and so was the lazy English. He shuffled away from Marc’s prying hands and asked more firmly, “Who am I, Marc?”

“You sure you want me to say it in front of her, mate?” Marc jerked his head my way.

“You can say anything you need to say in front of her.”

“But her father’s told his House she’s agreed to ally with him and assume her royal responsibilities—if you know what I mean. The word’s all over the Ludus.” He gave Cash a redundant, meaningful look.

Cash frowned. “Is this true?”

“I said something like that, but it’s not like I’ll go through with it. I agreed because it would buy me time to come with you home, and to figure out a way out of it. What’s the big deal, anyway? We have six months together, right?”

“Just tell me,” Cash said to Marc.

Marc peeked over his shoulder at me, then turned back to Cash and lowered his voice. “Your markings led to the Queen’s inner circle. Someone with dominion over the whole Empire. That’s why the map covered so much of your body. It won’t take long to figure out who. We just find out who in the inner circle went missing around the time of your earliest past-life memory.”

“You mean you still don’t know?” Cash sounded strained.

“Uh… no. But I’ve got the Queen’s office on it, and I’m doing everything I can. Don’t fret, we’ll find out before they do, yeah?”

There was something they weren’t telling me, and it affected Cash deeply. He let his head fall heavily into his hands.

“I know who you are,” I said quietly. “Petra said the first witch, Eve, split your soul for revenge because you were the one who forced them all out of Paradise… or cut their ties, I can’t remember exactly.” I turned to Marc. “Does that mean anything to you?” Did I have to tell about him being the Queen’s lover, or did they already deduce?

Cash shook his head, but Marc’s face turned white and flickered between his older and younger self.

“It can’t be.” Marc licked his lips, his aura zig-zagged and, in a snap, he assumed his older version. His voice deepened. “We’d all hoped, but even the Queen had given up. She hasn’t spoken to us in years. She… she was devastated when you went missing. We all thought you were dead.”

Marc paced through the room. He muttered to himself as he strode back and forth.

“Marc,” Cash yelled and winced at the volume in his voice. “For the love of Christ. Just finish already.”

Marc stopped. “You’re the Queen’s first commander, the enforcer. On Earth, some called you the Archangel Michael, or Orion the Hunter. You were actually Orion’s Hunter. The Empire is made up of a group of constellations—Orion among them. That was your home.” He turned to me to clarify then went back to Cash. “Your job was to hunt down traitors to the Queen and deny them entry back into her kingdom. The Queen was so distraught over what her son had done to her creation that she sent the deluge—you—and wiped half the population from the planet. You hunted down every last abomination and traitorous soul and cut their connection to our world. Then you removed the ingredient they needed to evolve past the confines of this planet.”

Marc focused his attention on me. “He did that to everyone, including the Watchers—Watchers are Seraphim stranded on this planet, love. Your dad is one of them, pet, a military dignitary from Ursa Major Constellation. He never trusted the Queen, his sister-in-law. So he was among the delegates that had come here to assess the planet’s safety before allowing his people access. Then he got stuck. He thinks it was a trap so she could conquer more of his territory. He’s not a happy man. If anyone attacks the planet for the sake of a few delegates, there will be a war like never before.”

He spoke to Cash again. “Nobody knows how to reverse the divide, except the Queen and perhaps you. There were rumors she’d left something in The Book of the Dead, but nothing definitive has surfaced yet. If they find out who you are, they’ll torture you until they find the truth.”

Holy moly, I was in deep. My father was the Queen’s brother-in-law—making the Queen some sort of great aunt. So the Prince must be my cousin. And Cash was…

Cash was in pain. He grabbed his middle, hunched over, trembling. His skin took on a glossy hue. His teeth rattled and his breath came out in sharp stutters.

“Cash, are you okay?” I asked.

“Mate, you don’t look good.” Marc whirled on me. “What do we do?”

“I’m not sure. His body is adjusting to the thousands of past lives it’s been missing. It could also be the pain of another soul, squeezing in beside two others.”

I slid onto the couch beside Cash, placing one hand at the base of his neck and the other on his bare arm. After a few minutes, his trembling subsided, and he leaned on me heavily, breathing hard.

“We need to get you showered, fed and back to bed,” I said. “That’s enough talking for today.”

“No. There’s too much to do. We need to book flights, arrange transport of Tommy’s body,” Cash mumbled. “Get me a phone, I can make a few calls.”

“Leave it to me, mate.” Marc said. “You just rest up. I’ll have someone contact you within twenty-four hours. In the meantime, I’ll do a bit of poking around, see what I can find out about this Eve character. There’s a chance the Queen will speak to me if I see her in person. I’m over due to return some souls, anyway. It may be a few weeks before you see me again.” He pointed a look at me. “Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll be off the grid.” He sauntered out of the room.

I rolled my eyes at Cash then remembered he couldn’t see me. “We’ll take the Jeep back to your place and start packing,” I began.

Marc reappeared with a kitchen knife and pointed it at my heart. “I want you to swear, on your blood and your immortal soul, that you won’t tell anyone about the origins of our mate here. That includes everything you’ve heard come out of my mouth today, yeah?”

“Yes, of course,” I said.

Marc twiddled the knife in front of me and then turned the hilt toward me. “Show me. Blood pact.”

I took the knife. “Um, I don’t get it.”

“Marc, there’s no need for that,” Cash said. “If it wasn’t for her, I’d still have separate souls—we can trust her.”

Marc turned to Cash. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, we can trust her.”

“Well, if it’s all the same to you, mate, I’d rather be certain,” he said to Cash. Then to me, “Use it, and swear.”

I was so over the palm-slicing. I did it anyway and watched the blood well. The wound closed leaving a red slim puddle along my flesh. “I swear, I’ll only speak to the people in this room about Cash’s origins until a time comes that permission is granted. If I break this oath, may my immortal soul be doomed to regress into a puddle of amoeba.” I turned to Marc with an eyebrow lifted. “Is that good enough for you?”

“A little over the top, love, but I’ll guess it’ll do. Cheerio.” He saluted and dematerialized.

Chapter 36

Tie up loose ends, my father had said. I didn’t know how hard that would be until I arrived at the cottage with my stomach in knots. How would I deal with Tommy’s belongings? I wanted to grieve for him, but didn’t know how—technically, he was still alive. I’d already spoken to Joe about taking personal leave from The Cauldron, I just needed to check on my friends.

I kept my turbulent emotions to myself and concentrated on fussing over Cash. He trusted me. He was fast becoming one of the few people I trusted too, and I didn’t want to disappoint him again.

After his initial resistance to help, he finally conceded after tripping up the front steps. I walked him to the shower and then left him to his own devices while I cooked the only thing in the cupboard—canned spaghetti on toast. It felt good to have a purpose and, when Cash emerged all glistening and clean, wearing a baggy shirt and track pants, I fed him and sent him to bed with a cool compress on his head. Marc had arranged our flights for later that night, so I had packing to do.

In my room, I donned a pair of comfortable jeans, a black blouse and slipped on some shoes. As I packed, I tried not to think about the fact that Cash and my father were on opposing sides of the celestial cold-war.

Marc had confirmed Petra’s words, and they nagged at me. Cash had been the one who’d cut the ties between Earth and the Empire. My father was a Watcher—a god stuck on this planet, unable to participate in the Game. If the Watchers found out who Cash was, they’d torture him and my father would try to use me to do it.

Over my dead body.

I slammed the suitcase and bent to zip it when my foot kicked something with a clink. I looked under the bed.

My magic key—Kitty’s apartment key. It kept turning up.

I stared at its dusty shape on the wooden floorboard, then picked it up and jammed it into my pocket. Then, bundling my long red tresses into a ponytail, I tiptoed to Tommy’s room where Cash slept soundly. I quietly collected bits and pieces to stow in his bag. There wasn’t a lot. I turned to leave and spotted Tommy’s camera dangling from the wardrobe handle.

I lifted the strap off with my finger, sat down in the hallway and turned it on. I snooped through his photos. He was talented. There were a few artistic night shots at the food festival, with twinkling lights in the background and happy people with glasses in their hands. I delved deeper and found the selfie of the two of us in the bed. He looked so happy. Me? I looked tired. Tears stung my eyes. I inhaled and exhaled shakily through my mouth then kept flicking.

The further back I went, the more pictures of myself I found. The shots were always zoomed-in to capture my expressions, but he must have been at quite a distance because I’d never noticed him. One in particular caught my attention. It was a close up of me standing in the sun: eyes closed, small smile, wind whipping my brown and sun-bleached hair, the collar still around my neck. It had been the day of Petra’s first attack. He’d been secretive about his photos that day, and had tried to bribe me. He would have shown me if I went on a date with him.

I wiped my eyes, turned off the camera and put it in the suitcase. Even though Tommy lived on, in a way, it would never be the same. I silently went about my work, packing the clean clothes and ditching the dirty ones. I was ruthless. The sound of Cash’s rhythmic breathing was comforting as I went about my duties. I dragged out the last piece of discarded clothing from under the bed and a small box dropped to the floor. It was wrapped in newspaper with “Probie” written the top. I sat at the edge of the bed and slowly peeled back the wrapper.

Warmth enveloped me, and I smiled, clutching the package to my heart. It was an MP3 player—a modern day version of a mix tape. I took it from the box, put the ear phones in and pressed play. The first song was Hello by Prince. My hand covered my mouth, and I sat there, lost in bittersweet thought. He’d given me the greatest gift he could have—something that kept my feet securely on the ground. He’d given me my music.

By the time I felt a movement next to me, I was onto the third song. I sniffed, wiped my nose and popped out the earphones to check on my patient.

Cash had rolled onto his back and lifted his arm to shield his eyes. “You found it?” he asked sleepily.

I darted a look at the music player, how could he see what I held?

As if he read my mind, he answered, “I can hear the music through the headphones.”

Oh. I turned the music off and stood up. “Thank you,” I said, eyes darting around, not sure if that was appropriate. “It means a lot, I guess… I don’t know what to say.”

He smiled briefly from under the shelter of his arm and shrugged. “It wasn’t really from me, it was Tommy.”

“Not from you. Yeah, I get it.” I shoved the player in my pocket. “So, I’ve packed most of our stuff and we still have a few hours before we leave. I thought I’d go see Kitty in hospital. Will you be okay by yourself for an hour?”

“I don’t think you should go on your own, but I won’t stop you. I meant what I said, Roo. I don’t want to control you. But if you could leave my phone out, I need to make a few calls. Thank you.”

When I returned with his phone, he was sitting up, rubbing his temples.

“You sure you’re okay?” I asked. “Will you be able to work that without seeing?”

“I’ll figure it out. Go. I’ll see you in an hour.” He frowned. “Oh and be careful. Women aren’t supposed to be driving, remember? If you have any issues, call me.”

I nodded, but he seemed to have forgotten I couldn’t call. My phone was still at the station.

* * *

I parked the Jeep close to the entrance of the hospital and hoped nobody would vandalize it. I didn’t know how the public had received the events at The Cauldron, and I was happy to keep my visit short.

After a stop at the florist, I walked the hospital halls with a profound sense of déjà vu. This time it was Kitty, not Alvin I was visiting. I fiddled with the carnations in my hands. They were a bit droopy, but they smelled nice. They trembled. I must have been nervous because I wasn’t sure Kitty would see me. She felt more like family than my own and I dreaded leaving her vulnerable. I wouldn’t blame her if she decided to call it quits. Life with me had become deadly.

By the time I stepped onto Kitty’s ward, I was thinking about not returning to Margaret River. My throat had closed up, and I found it hard to breathe, but I knew they were better off without me.

I approached the open door to her room and heard giggling. A low voice rumbled, and suspect shuffling drifted past the closed curtain. I paused. I knew that other aura. Whoa, someone was getting some action in there.

I cleared my throat.

Fabric rustled, someone cursed, and a bed creaked.

“Yes, come in.” Kitty called, her voice clear and melodious. That was a good sign. I folded back the curtain and couldn’t help the grin that exploded across my face.

“No you didn’t!” I said.

Alvin sat pink-eared in the visitor chair with his legs crossed awkwardly and a pillow in his lap. He had red kisses all over his neck. Kitty lay on the bed with an IV stuck in her arm. Other than that, she was the picture of health. Her short brown hair gave her a bit of a Sinead O’Connor look. Her cheeks were rosy, her aura strong, her eyes glittered, and she still wore bright lipstick. Smudged.

“Babe!” She gasped and opened her arms. “I was so worried about you. Nobody would tell us a thing. You need to learn to pick up a phone, missy.”

Tears stung my eyes. I bit my tongue and ran into her arms, enjoying her tight embrace. Two-seconds later, Alvin joined us and sandwiched me with his new powerful and muscular arms.

After a few necessary moments of squealing and cursing, we all settled into a position. Alvin took the flowers from me and offered his chair, but I waved him off and perched on the edge of the bed. Kitty patted the white cotton spot next to her so I shuffled closer and rested a hand on her thigh.

My lower lip trembled. Target engaged. Waterworks: locked and loaded.

Her thinly arched brows knit together, and she placed her hand over mine. Before I could ask about her recovery, she spoke. “Are you okay, babe? You look upset.”

Fire.

I dropped my chin to my chest, and lifted my free hand to cover my eyes. I fell into her arms and shook silently as tears fell. I sat back, sniveled and wiped my wet face.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “You’d think I’d just seen Bambi’s mother die or something.”

Kitty tilted her head, green eyes as caring as a new mother.

“Babe, your life has been turned upside down. You want to talk about it? We know your dad is back. He’s a bit scary, to be honest.”

I glanced at Alvin sitting back in his seat and remembered I’d interrupted a private moment. I shook off my sadness and gave my friends an imploring look. “So… what’s happening between you two, huh?”

Alvin’s ears went even redder, and he shuffled his feet.

“Nice try, cupcake. You talk. Tell Dr. Kitty everything,” Kitty said and pouted. I slanted a look at Alvin, I could see why he was attracted to her; she was stunning, even with smudged makeup.

I shrugged. “I’m flying out tonight with Cash and we’re taking Tommy’s body home to be buried. Then I’m heading to Sydney, for some—”

Don’t tell them about The Ludus, you’ll be putting them in danger.

“Babe?” Kitty asked.

I cleared my throat and shook my head. My hitchhikers were right, I didn’t want to put Kitty or Alvin in jeopardy again. As much as it killed me to lie to them, I couldn’t tell them the truth. “I have to go and live with my father for a while—a few months, maybe more.”

Alvin squirmed and Kitty squeezed my hand.

“What about Cash?” Kitty asked.

“He can’t just take you, can he?” Alvin said at the same time.

“Well, I have no other family here and, according to the law, a female has to do what her S-O-B father says until she gets married. Apparently that trumps Cash’s temporary custody. Anyway, nothing can happen between me and Cash. He already has”—A lover, a Queen?—“a girlfriend. He’s got a girlfriend. It’s just not meant to be. We’ll be good friends, but that’s it.”

“But I thought you two had something.” Kitty gave me the look that said, “I know your deepest darkest secrets. Don’t lie.”

I liked Cash. I wanted him, it was true. Sometimes, it was all I could think about. The taste of him. The feel of his lips on mine. When I decide to play kissy-face, you’ll know it, he’d said. Boy did I want to know it. But it couldn’t happen. I averted my gaze.

Kitty sat forward and made a face at Alvin. “Are you going to let her father get away with that?”

“Well, I can’t marry both of you,” he said and shrugged. “Although…” A sparkle crept into his eyes and he winked at me. “What do you say, Roo? Start a harem with me?”

Despite myself, I laughed. “You dork.”

“Well, what are you going to do?” Kitty asked.

“Wait.” I frowned and stared at Alvin. “Did you just say you guys are getting married?” I didn’t need a reply. Their smiles answered me. I squealed, clapped my hands and hugged Kitty.

“I’m so happy for you two. I really am,” I said, once I’d calmed down.

“You have to be my bridesmaid. So you see, you have to come back,” Kitty said.

“Wow.” Warmth radiated through me. My first wedding. Holy moly, my first wedding. I could plan her bachelorette party, and Alvin would have a buck’s night. We’d get to pick dresses and color themes. My eyes lit up as a thousand ideas swam through my mind.

“So, will you?”

“Huh?” I asked.

“Be my bridesmaid?” Kitty flared her eyes at me. “I want a summer wedding and, as there are only a few months left, we were thinking maybe February. That’s just over two months away. Will you be back?”

“Of course I will. I’ll work something out.” It would probably be in the middle of those cursed trials, but somehow, I’d find a way back.

“Roo, about your Dad. We’ll figure something out, don’t worry. I’ve got a lawyer mate, he’ll have some advice,” Alvin said.

“Thanks guys, but don’t worry. I’m on the case too and Cash. Oh, one last thing before I go.” I pulled the keys to my bike from my pocket and handed them to Alvin. “Will you look after my baby? I can’t take her with me and she’s still at The Cauldron. She’ll need a start now and then, and feel free to take her for a ride if you can. She likes the dirt track up passed Bibbulmun Road.” He nodded gravely, he knew the responsibility I gave him was not to be taken lightly.

I said my goodbyes and promised to get in contact as soon as I bought a new phone. Secretly, I wasn’t sure when that would be as I’d have to watch my funds until I found work. The last thing I wanted was to be in debt to my father, or Cash.

* * *

The sun dipped beyond the horizon as I pulled the Jeep into the cottage driveway. A metallic blue sedan was parked in my spot. Who was there? Anxiety bloomed in my chest and I had a stab of regret for leaving Cash alone in his helpless state. With clammy palms, I forced myself out of the car and, by the time I stepped past the barrier alarm, my fingers had heated and I was ready for battle.

But it was Jed—in civilian clothing and chatting to Cash in the living room. When I walked in, Jed’s face paled and he wiped his palms over his freshly ironed jeans.

“Hi, Roo,” he said, “I’m sorry for barging in unannounced. I’ve brought your confiscated belongings.” He stood up and handed me something. My phone.

“Thanks, Jed, you really didn’t have to go out of your way.”

“It’s the least I could do after what happened. I’ve also got this, from the mortuary.” He dangled a silver chain from his fingers. “It was Tommy’s.”

“Whatever it is, I don’t want it. Give it to Roo.” Cash tilted his head towards me, eyes staring over my head. “Jed’s coming to America with us.”

“Huh?” I scratched my head.

Jed laughed, his brown eyes crinkling. “I’m a Player, Roo,” he said and stepped forward to drop the chain in my hand, then lifted his shirt to show a small star map on his flat belly.

“Can’t you guys just wear signs over your heads or something? Am I going to find a Player under the couch next?”

He smirked shyly. “Well, I’m not anyone special. You probably missed it because my markings are small enough to be easily covered. I also dye my hair to cover the blond and wear contacts to hide the blue. I feel awful about my part in Tommy’s death, so I’m in his service until he feels the debt repaid.”

“Jed, you were bewitched. You couldn’t help it. No one could.”

He shrugged and looked at his hands. “I should’ve been able to do something. Anyway, I’ve given Cash my oath as an ally and he’s agreed to train me to hunt witches in return. I’ve taken leave from work and will be able to provide some extra protection for you.” He left to load our suitcases in his car.

I leaned in close to Cash. “Isn’t this weird? Why is he acting like a butler?”

“He’s sworn a blood oath to be in my service.”

“But you and I both know, Tommy’s not really gone. Aren’t you deceiving him?”

“We need all the help we can get, Roo. Your father’s a formidable opponent.” He stood up. “Let’s get going. We’ve got a three-hour drive before we get to the airport.” His jaw clicked shut on the last word and he shuffled to the front door on his own. Had I done something to annoy him? I jogged after him and grabbed his elbow to guide him down the steps.

I sat in the back seat beside Mr. Grumpy and watched the cottage grow smaller in the shady light. A shadow moved along the forest path, and I recognized the shape of a kangaroo.

I pulled out my magic key and threaded it onto Tommy’s silver chain. I didn’t know why Cash didn’t want it, but I did. I put it around my neck and tucked it into the collar of my blouse.

“Do you remember what we spoke about last night at your aunt’s?” Cash said in a low voice.

“How could I forget?”

His body had wrapped around me, whispering sweet French-nothings into my ear. That moment of content I felt. But that wasn’t what he meant. My eyes darted to the rear view mirror, to find Jed studying me back. He quickly averted his gaze back to the darkening road.

Cash clasped my hand in his own, sighing as his pain relief kicked in. The tension dropped from his broad shoulders and his eyes closed as he sunk low in the seat.

“Well, I don’t want you to worry. I’ve been around a lot longer than he has. I might not remember it yet, but I had one up on him before. I can do it again. Your father’s made a move, but we’ll go one better.” He sounded determined, but not convinced.

I inspected the connection of our bodies, hands entwined. I noticed a slight tingle in my palm where his fingers touched. It meant nothing, I told myself, as did the ache in my chest.

“We just need to stick together,” Cash mumbled.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this first part to The Game of Gods Series.

The series continues with a bonus short novel told from the two point of views of our favorite heroes, Cash and Marc in The Devil Inside. Read on for a sneak peak at the first 3 chapters.

Bonus - Leilas Clippings

The following clippings are taken from Leila’s Scrapbook

Clipped from the local newspapers and printed from:

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WITCH-E-PEDIA

Visit lanapecherczyk.com for more story extras

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The Enemy Is Among Us – Witches Are Here

DATE: 26th February 2003

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It’s the most shocking discovery the world has ever made, and it’s not a joke. A ghostly parasitic species with similar intelligence to the human race has been caught on camera attempting to take control of a human body. The home video footage has been authenticated by experts and reveals a black smoke like substance entering a woman’s body via the mouth and superficial wounds on her shoulders, neck and face. Seconds after the black smoke completely disappears within the body, the wounds completely heal, the woman’s hair changes color and her eyes are covered in a black, inky substance.

Friends of the woman’s family reported the newly possessed never returned home, but was seen a few weeks later living as another identity two towns away. The family of the possessed woman tracked her down and confronted her with the video, the spirit panicked and exited the host body in front of up to twenty eyewitnesses. Each witness confirmed without a doubt that the black smoke was seen leaving the body, moments later, the body slumped. The woman never regained consciousness and was pronounced dead in the hospital shortly after.

It is now thought that these possessions have gone unnoticed for their similarities to cases of identity fraud, and missing persons. Even possessed who remained at home and masqueraded so cleverly as the original host, none have been the wiser until a sudden death a few years after and an autopsy reveals unexplained illness and disease riddled bodies.

Since the video was released online, others have come forward with eyewitness accounts from all over the world and proof that they too have seen the bizarre occurrence.

A spokesperson from the Church has released a statement naming the spirits as witches by their ability to alter the biological makeup of the human body they possess. They claim the enemy has been among us for generations, but until technology gave us the convenience of video on our person, it had been deemed a religious myth because proof had been hard to capture. The Church has agreed to work with the Center for Disease Control and Prevention in order to come up with a plan to combat this threat. A specialist task force is being assembled, with a church appointed Inquisitor to head investigations. Citizens are urged to remain calm, not to panic and remain in homes until a statement is released from the Center for Disease Control and Prevention, expected to come out within 24 hours of this news release.

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Females The Target – Lock Up Your Women

DATE: 13th March 2003

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* * *

All reported cases of witch possession recorded in the last two months since the discovery have been one hundred percent female. It is now suspected that the biological makeup of the female gender marks it as a prime candidate for the ghostly parasite to incubate in. No further knowledge has been identified due to the slippery nature of the beast. Cases have been reported from bodies as young as 15 to as old as 67.

Scientists have identified a similarity in all autopsies completed on post-possessed corpses that confirm the host had been occupied by the enemy. Details are being kept under close wraps for fear of inciting worldwide panic, however, based on the new discovery a source who wishes to remain anonymous from the coroner’s office in the city has confirmed that out of 112 female deaths over the last month, 34 were classed as malicious in nature.

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Breaking News: Witchcraft Affects Men Too

DATE: 28th April 2004

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Thought to have only an effect on the female gender, scientists say it is now suspected that witches can also alter the biological makeup of men via the transfer of bodily fluid but not possess the male entirely. This can happen via blood, saliva or through sexual intercourse. Cases of men behaving unusual after their partner was identified as a witch are becoming more widespread. Unusual behavior has been catalogued as examples such as: completing tasks and not remembering how they did it, having unusually agreeable personalities, losing time, sudden changes in physical appearances.

A spokesperson from the Church has confirmed that bewitching has been a suspected side effect of those close to the possession victim. If you are a male and unsure if you are in complete control of your will power, please contact your local center for disease control and prevention and request your examination by an expert. The center has requested that all patients please bring a sample of DNA from prior to themselves feeling as though they were bewitched. An old hair brush is a good place to gather hair follicles.

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Discovery of Evidence Surrounding Witchcraft Baffles Scientists

DATE: 30th May 2005

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An abandoned cemetery in suburban Sydney is the site of a gruesome discovery linked to witchcraft. The bodies of five woman presumed to be missing were suddenly exhumed when a Hurricane Margo hit five days ago. Upon examination by scientists, evidence suggests all were victims of the maleficent kind through complete and utter DNA changes on a bimolecular level. Some have been identified through dental records, as each body was at a different level of decomposition, pointing to the fact it was the personal burial site of one particular witch who dumped her hosts as she moved on to the next.

Scientists studied the bodies of the victims and identified at least five unknown DNA Markers never thought to have existed.

Taking part in the investigation is the International Maleficent Bureau (The IMB), The Center for Disease Control and Prevention, The National Witch Protection Committee (NWPC) and the People Against Witches for Security (PAWS).

Robert Hiball, President of the IMB explained, “According to reports by forensic investigators, the bodies exhumed were all victims of possession over the last twelve years. As it seems these bodies were never meant to see the light of day, no care was taken by the witch to camouflage evidence of her mutations. Some bodies are thought to have been used for genetic experiments in the most heinous ways. We are taking the bodies back to the lab to conduct more tests in hopes of understanding how these monsters make their changes at a molecular level in hopes of formulating a defense.”

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Witches Volley For Equal Rights – Unanimously Denied

DATE: April 24th 2006

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In a bizarre twist, a spokeswoman for witches has pushed for rights to coincide alongside humans equally, claiming they have been living unseen among us for thousands of years, and until now, no one has noticed or cared.

The leaders of the world were unanimous in their response, stating at a world conference “we do not negotiate with terrorists, why should we negotiate with witches.” Another representative of the International Maleficent Bureau has pointed out that Witches don’t cohabit, they steal the lives of healthy, women in their prime and cut their lives severely short.

The witch representative only known as “Eve” claimed the denial was an act of war and that all witches everywhere were called upon to come out of hiding and publicly possess whoever they see fit.

* * *

===========================

GENOCIDE! BURN THEM ALL

The Purge and What it Means For You

DATE: 12th June 2007

===========================

* * *

The controversial plan to burn all maleficent suspects in a mass execution will go ahead as soon as possible. All other avenues to isolate and capture the enemy have been exhausted and world leaders have agreed this is our only course of action. All countries that are members of the United Nations have been invited to take part in the genocide.

In a statement released last night, Prime Minister Maggie Collins had this to say: “The decision to act upon the advice from the Church and burn all accused witches has not been made lightly. Because we’ve had little success in providing 100% reasonable doubt with each suspect, witches continue to keep the upper hand. We have suffered at the hands of our humanity and as a result, continue to lose this battle against evil. We need to think like the enemy, and be ruthless. No pardons will be given, we are commencing burning of all suspects in custody effective immediately. Trials have been suspended until we feel we can provide leeway safely again.”

All suspects held in detention centers will face public execution. The government expects possible retaliation from witches and advises all citizens to stock up on survival items and remain indoors for the next 48 hours.

* * *

===========================

War Suspended: Peace Assured

DATE: 12th June 2008

===========================

* * *

With the success of the Purge, The Prime Minister has ceased hostilities against those accused of witchcraft. Following the new protocols, any accused must submit to a trial by law, and evidence must be given to prove the accused is beyond reasonable doubt a witch. The Government has issued a statement, saying that a baby bonus will be issued to encourage families to rebuild the population in the wake of the war.

The Devil Inside

For my little sis, Heidi. The first and biggest fan of my work.

Cash

I woke with my hands around her neck, choking, strangling, squeezing. The crunch of her wind pipe dragged me from sleep and into panic.

“No!”

She fell to my chest with a sickening thud. Tears stung my eyes.

I hadn’t meant to.

I was dreaming.

I didn’t know she was there.

What on earth had possessed her to wake me from a nightmare?

My arms hovered over her heaving back, unsure what to do. She would heal fast—she was a Player, Nephilim, like me—but…

What if she didn’t?

“Roo?” My voice wavered, cracked.

My hands landed softly on her warm shoulder blades, sliding over bare skin and catching on the straps of her nightgown. She felt small and fragile under my touch, at odds with the strong woman she was. She’d fought and faced down a witch—the worst nature had to offer. And she’d won.

For the first time in my life, I didn’t know what to do, so I held her tenderly, like a broken flower.

And waited.

That was all I knew how to do these days.

Goddamned wait.

Two days ago, I’d gone blind—a side effect of her fixing my broken soul. She’d pieced it back together, and I’d waited in a world of agony, reliving past lives repeatedly. My only respite was her touch. I longed for it, and every time she let go of me, I ached for more. When her fingers lingered on my skin, my pain ebbed away like water down a drain.

Despite the devil picking at my sanity, Roo gave me patience to wait out the darkness.

So I did.

I waited to see again. To feel again.

And I goddamned waited for her touch to release its hold on me.

I squeezed my eyes shut and counted to ten, listening to her tiny breaths wheeze in and out until they smoothed into a constant rhythmic fluctuation. Yes. She would heal. She must heal.

One minute.

Two minutes.

She was powerful. Quick. Strong. Once, I’d seen her heal a nigh disembowelment in seconds. She would make this. She had to.

I made to move. She whimpered into my chest, and the sound was like a shot to my heart. Her hands grasped my shoulders, fingers trembling.

Keep calm.

Three minutes.

Four minutes.

Oh, dear gods. What had I done?

I braced the back of her head and, with surgical precision, flipped her onto her back. She stared up at me through large honey-colored eyes, blinking the glimmering pain away.

“Roo.” I moved a strand of red hair from her face. “I’m sorry… say something. Fuck. You can’t talk yet. Idiot.” I grimaced, scrubbed my face and put a trembling arm on the bed beside her. Her beautiful neck. I’d squashed it. Broken it. Yet, it gathered shape before my eyes, like a balloon inflating.

I looked away.

She lifted her finger to trail my cheek, and shivers ratcheted down my spine. When I glanced back at her, she mouthed "your eyes" between gasps.

I’d woken from a nightmare, mistaken her for the enemy—almost killed her—and she worried about my sight.

I sat back on my heels and wiggled my fingers in front of my face to confirm her observation. Yes. I could see again.

Whoopdie-fucking-doo.

She was out of my league. I was supposed to mentor her, teach her in the ways of the Nephilim, the Seraphim, and the Game. But how could I do that when, just under the surface, I was a vicious animal, a killing monster?

My latest nightmare had been a doozy and some part of me knew it wasn’t a dream, but a distant memory. I still felt the echo of flames lick at my burning skin. At some point in my past, I’d burned to death.

Had I deserved it?

Probably. Prior to Roo "fixing me" I’d devoted my life to rescuing those ill-fated enough to be born human and possessed by witches. But before then, I’d been worse than a murderer: a contract killer for the Empire. A murderer who couldn’t think for himself.

I sat on the edge of the bed with my back to Roo. I knew it was cowardly, but I couldn’t look at her. Not like that, broken and gasping.

I braced my head in my hands, fingers spearing into my short hair.

Two cool hands encircled my stomach. I inhaled sharply at the sensation against my bare skin as a soft, warm weight dropped between my shoulder blades.

She hugged me!

Adrenaline buzzed through my body as she pressed herself against my spine and tightened her embrace. She couldn’t speak, yet, but she was trying to tell me it would be okay. Eventually, she managed to rasp those exact words: “It will be okay.”

I struggled to keep my tumultuous emotions in check. Shame, regret, self-loathing. Gratitude. It was all new. It had been easier when my soul was in pieces when I wasn’t capable of caring. True, I didn’t love, but perhaps that was a small price to pay for living without the icy pain that obstructed my breath and halted my heart when I’d seen her broken.

Although my body quivered with the urge to leave, I closed my eyes and let her soothe me. I forced myself to relax. Somehow, she calmed my storm. I twisted to face her, wanting to apologize, but she didn’t let go.

Our eyes met, paused, and our breath mingled. My fingers trailed her jawline, and when I pushed her hair aside to explore her neck, I heard her pulse quicken.

I froze.

She’s afraid of me.

But no.

Slowly, she leaned in to me and moistened her lips. Her scent was divine, sending my nerves to the brink of combustion. I mimicked her movement, wetting my own lips.

My weakness lasted an eternal glorious moment, and then my eyes caught on her delicate neck. The fine detail of my regret came into sharp focus and I discovered broken capillaries, fading. Her heartbeat thrummed, thudding faster above the volume of my own. In that moment, I despised my heightened perceptions. Great vision wasn’t so bad, but advanced olfactory and auditory perception? Disruptive.

And perceptive.

I disengaged and stood, not looking back.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I said in monotone, walking away. “I’m going to have a shower, and you should probably get yourself ready for the day. We have work to do.”

Perhaps if I acted like a moody motherfucker, she’d get sick of me. It was a strategy that had worked on many women before. And it was easy. I walked into the adjoining bathroom, refusing to look at her as I closed the door. With trembling hands I turned the tap to scalding and stood underneath the stream until my body went numb. But no matter how much sensation I took away from the surface, I could still feel the tingle left by her touch. And if I looked inwards, deeper, there was a darkness prowling within the chasm of my new soul, awakened from its recent fiery rebirth and scratching to get out.

Cash

By the time I’d finished my shower and had a shave, I’d decided to exit the Game, thus ending my human life. For the safety of everyone near me, it was time for my soul to return to the Empire—if possible—and get answers. If my soul winded up floating in the ether around this world, then, whatever; I’d tried.

I wrapped a towel around my waist and started making plans when I re-entered my bedroom.

She was still there.

On my bed.

She lay on her stomach, legs kicked in the air, squinting at her laptop and tapping a smart phone to her forehead. A tiny whine came from her earphones to the beat of music. Her nightgown, flimsy at best, had little holes in it, and rode up the back of her legs to expose her thighs. She must know what this did to me. My heart pounded in my ears and my towel grew tighter around my waist. I dropped my hands to cover myself. Just in time.

She turned towards me and smiled then turned back to her screen.

All thoughts fled, and I stared, unblinking. “You’re still here.”

She ignored my statement, or couldn’t hear it past the music blasting into her ears. So I bent and waved a hand in her face. She turned and popped the earplugs out.

“What’s up. How you feel?” she asked in a raspy voice, inspecting my eyes with concern.

“I should be the one asking you that, but you seem to have recovered just fine.” I tried to avoid eye contact and inadvertently sent my gaze trailing the soft curve of her shoulders, down to the strap of her nightgown, and across the swell of her breasts. Her pulse beat rapidly in her neck and echoed in my ears. I could smell it too. When blood filled her vein, it plumped and hit the chain around her neck dispersing a heady, metallic scent that only my nose could pick up. The necklace she wore, my father’s old necklace—a gift from Tommy—hung heavy with a key that landed in the valley of her chest.

She turned the computer screen to face me. “Um, so, I’ve been looking into the mythology surrounding your ah… situation. And also,"—she waved the phone—“your mother called. She wants to know why you haven’t called her yet. The funeral is…”

Roo kept talking, but I stopped listening. Her scent was already in me, devouring me. I wanted to taste her. Her skin. Her body. To throw the laptop on the floor, rip her earphones out and have her underneath me on the bed. No one else on this planet had this effect on me. Not since before the beginning. With her.

Get a grip.

I shook my head to clear the fog and realized she was waiting for me to respond to something she’d said.

I hit her with a cold stare. “What?”

“Well, grumpy-bum, Marc said you’ve been called Orion and the Archangel Michael, and I thought if we cross-reference mythological legends, we might find evidence of what really happened to you. We might find at least a small clue as to where your Seraphim body is being kept.” She turned to me, eyes sparkling under the LED lights of my loft apartment. “That’s what you need isn’t it, your original body? You aren’t healing as fast as me, and quite frankly, I’m a little concerned.”

“You shouldn’t be. Anyway, Marc is on the case. I’m fine. You should be more concerned with educating yourself in preparation for your trials. We’ll be at The Ludus in less than two weeks. Spend your time on that, not on me.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in this together. At the very least, you’re teaching me, right? You can’t go falling apart just yet. Who else will help me shove the trials up my father’s ass?” She rolled and flopped onto her back. Seeing her laid out on my bed had me wanting.

Jesus.

She chewed her lip a moment before speaking. “Considering I have the bloody Book of The Dead bouncing around inside my head, and that it was put there by the witch I”—she screwed up her face—“absorbed… I still can’t get over that. Gross. But this witch knew about your history. It makes sense we look into Egyptian mythology.” She rolled back on her side and propped her head up with a hand. “Did you know Osiris, the god of the dead, had links to Orion? I think it’s a good place to start.”

She talked a lot. And she was immature at times. And incorrigible. And I wanted nothing more than to cover her mouth with mine, and give her something else to think about. I frowned at how easy it was for my thoughts to derail around her. This would take effort.

She pointed to the screen. “See?”

Words kept coming out of her mouth, but I’d had enough.

I had to put an end to her interference, for her sake. Why involve her if I’d already decided to leave? Best if I followed through with my plan to act like a complete bastard.

I slammed the laptop shut, missing her fingers by a hair.

Defiance burst across her face. “What was that for?”

Her reaction sparked an echo inside my own body, which was already heavy with suppressed desire. It flicked to rage in an instant. I had to remind myself I didn’t need to fight. Not her.

“Roo.” My word came through clenched teeth.

“What.”

“We’ve got more important things to do than research. Like your self-defense training. I almost snapped your neck.” The thought made me cringe. “You’re fucking shit at defending yourself.”

“You’re f—”

“Go wake up Jed.” I lifted her off the bed by the shoulders. She kicked out, squirming, but I placed her near the door. “Then get showered and dressed into something more suitable for training. Pick and an outfit that doesn’t have holes this time.”

“You can’t just pick me up, Cash. You can’t do that!” She smacked my chest and glared.

A smile curved up one side of my face. I crush her neck and she hugs me. I lift her off the bed and she smacks me. I’d never understand her. “I just did.”

“This isn’t funny. You know what I mean. We have to talk about what happened this morning. What were you dreaming about?”

My smile disappeared. “What are you, my therapist?”

“Well, what about your sight? You can see!”

“I know I can see. I can see you’re not doing as you’re told, and I can also see you’re not wearing the workout attire like I asked. That’s going to fall apart in the first minute of training. Part of this mentor-progeny partnership involves you being able to take orders.”

Take the hint, Roo.

“As if I’m going to do any more of what you call training—oh, I’m going to train you, but really I’m going to have a witch come out and attack you.” She flared her eyes at me. “In case you missed it, that was me being sarcastic.”

“Clearly. In case you missed it, I’m not emotionally crippled anymore. I can fully understand your intended, if misplaced, amusement.”

“Ha! Hmmm.” She gave me a ferocious once over. The attention licked heat over my body. “You certainly seem to have some humor, finally, although I’ve yet to see you smile. Not like, I’m-sexy-and-I-know-it-smile, but, like, I’m-really-happy-smile.”

“You think I’m sexy?” I smirked.

She rolled her eyes and when they returned to me, they lit up and she nodded to herself, thinking about some great idea. I recalled a time when I first met her and she’d made it her mission to make me laugh.

“Oh, please. It’s like I can hear your thoughts,” I scoffed.

“Challenge accepted.”

“Exactly.”

“Exactly. I will make you laugh if it’s the last thing I do. Tommy is in there somewhere”—she knocked on my head—“and I’m going to find him.”

“We don’t have time to play knock on wood.”

She gasped and covered her mouth. “Was that… was that another joke?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

She fell back on the bed in fits of laughter. I couldn’t help grinning. When she saw my face, she laughed harder. How did she do that? She could pull me from the brink of darkness in the blink of an eye.

But we had work to do; my smile clouded. “Seriously, what happened to your clothes?”

“I can’t help it!” She tugged at the hem of her nightgown. “Every time I get worked up, my fingers burn holes through my clothes. I’ve got nothing left. It’s so frustrating!” To prove her point, smoke curled from her fingers and a burning scent plagued the air. “See?” She threw up her hands. “Anyway, what about your mother? She’s invited us to dinner the night before Tommy’s funeral. Despite your assurances that he’s not really dead because he’s a part of you, nobody else knows that. I think it’s important to go. She misses you. She’s not as bad as you made out, quite sweet in fact.”

I blinked at her, staring quietly until she fidgeted and asked, “What?”

“It marvels me how you jump from topic to topic like a monkey on hot coals.”

“What can I say? I’m multi-talented.”

The smell of burnt rayon singed my nostrils. “Clearly.” Her clothes were Swiss cheese. I had to help her out. I collected my wallet, retrieved one of the many credit cards and threw it on the bed. “Go with Jed and get more durable clothing today.”

Roo opened her mouth, presumably to argue, but the ring of my phone cut her off.

I turned my back on her. “What?” I snapped into the receiver.

“Mr. Samson, it’s Nell, from the office.”

“I know who you are, Nell, I hired you.” I glanced back as Roo left. Shit, she’d left the card on the bed. I turned my attention back to the phone. “This better be good.”

“I’m sorry to disturb you during your personal leave, but there’s been a situation, and the other men asked that I give you a call. I think you’d better come in.”

“What the fuck do I pay you all for if you can’t handle things when I’m gone?” I clenched my fists until veins bulged in my forearms like writhing snakes. “Okay. Tell me. What happened?”

“Teenagers all over the South have been reported missing under strange circumstances, and now it’s hit your orphanage. It’s one of your boys.”

Shit.

Fuck.

I kicked the bed.

I couldn’t ignore this. Training would have to wait.

Nell filled me in on the details and, after I cut the call, I was both relieved and pissed. Relieved to have a focus for the rage boiling inside me and pissed that I’d have to leave my charge to someone else. I certainly wasn’t going to take Roo with me; she was untrained, insubordinate, and, with her recently gained powers, vulnerable.

I supposed I’d have to get used to it. I was quitting after all. Roo would be better off under the protection of somebody who wouldn’t harm her in his sleep. Leaving life on this planet was the logical thing to do even if I had no idea whether my soul would land in a body or not.

I’d figure that part out when I got to it.

* * *

I dressed in a designer charcoal suit with a chalk collared shirt. When intimidation was needed, expensive was best. I secured a black tie around my neck and entered the open-plan living area of my loft. Weights, a boxing bag and exercise equipment filled the room. I bypassed the gym and walked into the kitchen where I poured myself a coffee, sipping as I leaned against the granite bench. I breathed in the rich scent to clear out Roo’s intoxicating smell.

“Samson.” Jed’s voice, thick with sleep, came from behind me.

I turned to find the Australian ex-police sergeant, dressed in a pair of gray sweats and a singlet, rubbing his eyes. The blonde regrowth in his auburn hair revealed his Player status. That, and the star map tattoo peeking out from under the chest area of his singlet. I eyed him. Could I trust him to teach Roo—leave them alone together?

“There’s an emergency. I have to go.” I downed the espresso.

“Oh?” Jed raised his eyebrows. “Something I can help with?”

“Maybe. I know I promised to train you, but Roo is a priority. She’s absolute shit at anything but using her abilities on instinct. And, as I can’t be here, I want you to run drills for her on self-defense. Also, see if you can hone her telekinesis. Take her to the park. It’s cold, and no one will be down there to see.”

I turned to go, but stopped and fished out the credit card Roo had discarded. “And here, take her to get clothes without holes in them. Something for the funeral too.”

Jed took the card and nodded. He pressed his lips together.

I clenched my fists. Say something, I dared him silently. Tell me I’m no good for her.

When he didn’t, I strode for the door and left. I had to put as much distance between myself and my house guests as possible.

Her smell lingered.

Marc

I inhaled the dank air at the underground British Ludus, my preferred stomping ground, and sighed in pleasure. About bloody time. It had been too long since I’d walked these halls and I was dying to visit the administration quarters to see which lovelies had been hired since my last visit. How long had it been? A decade? More?

As I walked down the corridor, I used the particles in the air to materialize clothing over my naked body. The nakedness, an unfortunate side effect of traveling through the dimensions, didn’t bother me. But it unnerved others—prudes if you asked me—so it was time to cover up.

Today my jeans were painted on and my pin-striped shirt hugged my torso right up to a collar that stood on end. The outfit emphasized all the strong, hard lines of my body. Just because I couldn’t be naked, didn’t mean I’d let them get away without a tiny taste of my godly assets.

I caught my reflection in one of the enormous fake windows and gave my blonde, tousled hair a quick groom, checked my Hollywood teeth and winked. Handsome Devil. Just in time, too. I diverted my grin to the stunning brunette bouncing down the hallway with a clipboard in her hand. Her hair swayed and her white mini dress highlighted the smooth curves of her body.

Her swinging ponytail reminded me of another one, years ago, millennia in fact. It had belonged to a young version of Queen Sephie, my best friend. We’d been neighbors growing up. As we were both from aristocratic families, we’d shared a mutual disdain for them. I had always been a bit too… vigorous… for my parents’ liking, and she wasn’t enough of a lady. That ponytail had swung in my face, taunting me, as we ran through the grounds of her father’s estate. She’d always win, always outrun me. Or so she thought. Occasionally, I’d reach out and tug her hair to tease her, to make her think I’d caught up, and she would squeal and kick it up a notch. I liked chasing her, and she liked running.

Sadness coated my heart. She’d been so full of life, of such vibrancy and the only one in the world who called bullshit with my attitude. She knew the real reason I chased women tirelessly and she loved me all the same.

In the end, she was nothing like I remembered. The last time I’d seen her at her palace, her brown hair had turned white and hung ragged around her face. She refused to speak to anyone for decades and was more enraptured with the inside of her chambers than without. The most I got from her was a small smile here, a gentle touch of my face there. The life had depleted from her eyes and, despite my efforts to bring it back, there was nothing more I could do. So I stayed on this planet, nurturing her creations. Having fun with them. What else was there to do?

The bouncing brunette stopped in front of me. She blushed and batted her lashes.

My mood brightened instantly. All right. She’s up for it.

“Hello, love. Don’t believe we’ve met. I’d remember that beautiful face if we had,” I said.

She leaned forward and pouted, coming right up to my nose. I closed my eyes ready for—Ow! Pain sliced my right cheek. My eyes shot open. She’d slapped me.

“What the bloody hell was that for?” I rubbed my cheek.

She cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t think we’ve met, ay? You’d remember my face, ay?” She put her hands on her hips and tapped an agitated rhythm with her foot. “All you gods are the same. The lot of you. Bloody perverted bastards.”

My eyes widened, and I desperately tried to remember her name, but nothing came to mind. She didn’t look that old, but with advancements in human medicine, and gods-forbid witchcraft, who knew how old she really was? Even when I scrutinized her aura, I didn’t recognize her. Humans were a dime a dozen, and I’d had so many women. It had been so long since I visited the London Ludus….

I tried another winning smile. “C’mon, love. Don’t be like that. It’s been too long to hold grudges.” I cleared my throat. “You’ve done something to your hair, yeah? It looks much more… womanly. And you’ve lost weight, yeah? You look ravishing.”

“Well, I have…” She dropped the clipboard to her thigh, caught herself and then frowned. “Anyone would think you’re a Player, not the Gamekeeper.”

I snorted. I bloody well wished! I’d have way more freedom as a Player—no responsibilities, no memories of the world beyond this earth, no idea what I was missing—the politics, the backstabbing, the friends. Sheer luxury.

She spun on her white heels and sashayed away, footsteps echoing in the lonely corridor.

The years had been kind to her well-shaped rear.

I jumped to follow. It was a nice view after all. “Love, I need you to look into something for me,” I said as we entered the administration’s open-plan office.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

Blimey… It was filled with Simons. All rather fit-looking versions. A slow whistle blew from my lips. I liked to call humans simple Simons, but what I saw was anything but. Natural stunners, the lot of them. When had they changed the administration uniform to a sinful white mini dress? An office girl at the copy machine looked up, met my gaze briefly and then turned back to her task, perfect lips quirking. Gods, I could see the shape of her nipples through the taut fabric.

How the hell was I supposed to choose between them now? Maybe I didn’t have to. Maybe I could just menáge-them-all.

What was that brunette’s name again? I scratched my head. Trying again to place her face. If we’d done the dirty, then she mustn’t be a Player because they’re prohibited to me. So, she must be a Simon. The short lifespan of the breed meant I changed partners frequently. Probably met her in her youth. After a few years, all faces blended into one.

Except for Little Red.

Now where had that thought popped in from?

That beautiful Player I’d met a few days ago obviously still had her metaphysical fingers hooked into me. Somehow, I couldn’t get her out of my head. I didn’t trust her further than I could throw her, but I wanted her. Bad. I got a tingling in my goolies just thinking about the possibilities.

Utter codswallop.

She was a Player. I was the Gamekeeper. We had roles to uphold.

I’d like to uphold her, all right.

No.

Ma-arc. No.

I had to forget her.

I returned to admiring the fresh crop. Had they restocked for my pleasure? Tremendous.

“Marc, dah-ling, good to see you back.” A tall, familiar woman with an unwavering baby-pink bob, walked out of a glass office. She held out her limp, manicured hand. “We have souls for you in storage, overflowing in fact, and some requests that need to be actioned.”

“Jacine.” I gave a curt nod and ignored her hand. Just because she was Seraphim, like me, didn’t mean we were equals. She was also a Watcher—banished to live on this planet, forbidden to participate in the Game or to interfere with human society—watching until the end of days.

It was hard for the Queen to uphold this rule, but in the end, if the Watchers fraternized with humans, they weren’t allowed back home. They were on occasion allowed to breed with them to make more Nephilim bodies for Players to inhabit, but that was it. Thou shalt not harm a Simple Simon’s head. I did everything I could to hold them to that law. Some of them, most of them, including Jacine, hated it.

They also despised the fact I was free to travel between Earth and the Empire (or Paradise as the Simons liked to call it in their mythological fantasies).

Her lids drooped in disdain, and gigantic lashes painted her cheeks in shadows. It was obvious she was trying her patience with me. I loved it. She cleared her throat. “Was there something we can help you with today?”

I gave her the once over to judge her worthiness. She dressed decently enough for an out-of-touch Watcher. Her clothes were hip, her makeup un-tarty and, although she appeared to be sucking on a lemon, I rather thought she was good at her job as the Operations Manager and Tribunal Member of the London Ludus. As far as I knew, she was also loyal to the Queen.

And then of course, we had history. Steamy, hot-tub history.

That did it then. In for a penny, in for a pound.

“Right-o, love. I need someone you trust to be discreet with some research.”

Jacine clicked her manicured fingers at the bouncy brunette. “Claudette, conference room.”

I smirked. Claudette. Now I remembered. Rhymes with Corvette.

Cash

The cold stung my face as I climbed the steps to Samson’s Home for Lost Boys. The air smelled like rain. I let myself in and the smell of wet carpet, pine disinfectant, and a cheap perfume accosted me.

“Mr. Samson.” The receptionist stepped out from behind her front desk, knotting her fingers. Her drab brown dress hung from her withered body and her pointed face crumpled with concern. It made the mole on her cheek wink at me. “We weren’t expecting you to check on the boys for another week. To what do we owe this pleasure?”

Pleasure? I snorted. Hardly.

Hell, if it weren’t for my unending donations that kept the home afloat, I was sure she’d never want to see me again. I’d heard I had been described by some as akin to a jackhammer. So, a pleasure? I thought not.

Without answering, I glanced around the foyer. No one else stood at the desk and the air held no residual scent from a third party. The side rooms behind the double glass doors to the right were light but quiet. I stepped up to the door and opened it a crack. No signs of life beyond, in the rec-rooms, and—I sniffed—no residual scent there either.

Where were the boys?

“It’s Mrs. Baily, is it?” Of course I knew, but my feigned ignorance bred superiority.

In a flash, a memory from one of my new past lives surged to the surface. I briefly closed my eyes to catch the vision. I still needed to learn from my newly acquired soul tripartite and the memory provided contrary feedback about behaving optimally for the manipulation of persons such as she. Being a dick just wouldn’t cut it. I supposed I could also try appealing to her human nature—she was a caregiver after all. Perhaps, when I had more time, I would sift through those new memories and garner more appropriate information for shaping my behavior. But for now, my old way would have to do.

I strode through the rec-room.

“Where are the children?” My gaze swept the area looking for anything out of the ordinary. Nobody at the billiards table, nobody playing video games, nobody watching TV—which had a new crack through the screen.

“They’re at school, sir.”

“Of course.”

I let out a breath. How could I forget? That broken television though.

Her broken neck.

I shook the thought away and returned to the room. I’d have to send money for a new television, maybe more furnishings. It was looking bare in there.

“I’m early because I have a meeting with Mrs. Merriweather from the school. About James.”

Mrs. Baily relaxed. “Oh, thank goodness. I’ve been so worried about that boy. And the authorities won’t help. She’ll be bringing the children home in about ten minutes.” She paused and fiddled with her collar. “James hasn’t been home for two days, but do you want to see his room?”

A thought trickled up through my memories. I didn’t suppose young James would appreciate it. He’d been such a headstrong, private boy. I remembered the first time I’d come to visit after I’d rescued him. He didn’t like talking, and neither did I. We’d respected that about each other. If he knew I was about to rummage through his inner sanctum, he’d break.

Broken.

Stop thinking about it, idiot.

Think about James. His room. I should go and take a look despite the invasion of privacy. My gut twisted. The notion caused me to pause and frown. Why was I so concerned with what others thought? Fucking new emotions.

“Yes. Refresh my memory. Where is that again?” I asked.

I followed her directions upstairs.

All open, the dormitory doors revealed pristine, single-bed rooms. Each doorway held an adjacent frame with a photograph of the occupant’s youthful face.

Sudden visions of the young I’d slain in my dreams hit me in a wave of silent horror, followed quickly with a sickening after-wash of shame, and I palmed my eyes hoping that nobody saw me and tried desperately to stifle the rising chaos. Sure, those children had the dark disease leaking from every orifice, but underneath, they still held the face of innocence. Bile rose in my gullet and I swallowed it down. She’d said she could fix them, but there were too many to save. And she had left.

With my shoulder leaning on the door frame to brace myself, I clenched my jaw and shook the burgeoning tingle from my scarred palm. A deep, cleansing breath later, I ran my hand over the smooth wood of the door frame. It was in good condition, but the rooms were sparsely furnished. I would definitely make an extra donation. It was almost Christmas after all.

I took note of the bouquet of odors as I walked passed each room, making sure there was nothing untoward inside. One room in particular—the one with the photograph of a honey-skinned, shaved-headed youth—caught my attention. James. A barrage of sweet, grassy perfume hit me as I stood at the door: Marijuana.

I closed my eyes and sighed.

James, you know the rules. What are you doing?

Curious papers strewn around the boy’s room initially appeared to be homework, but on closer inspection, turned out to be peculiar for a sixteen-year-old. I peered closer and identified scribbled Ancient Egyptian glyphs. A chill touched me. Roo had mentioned Egyptian glyphs coursing up her arms after she’d absorbed The Book of the Dead. Something about the name of that book sparked a recollection in me. Something from my Seraphim life. I pushed the papers aside and discovered a gold scarab brooch about half the size of my palm.

Jeweled. Heavy. Expensive for a kid to own.

I stared at it, mesmerized, as it emitted strange vibrations. They meant something, like a language I’d forgotten. It smelled oddly, too. Not quite like the rot of a witch, but perhaps a witch had touched it. My subconscious made connections that my mind couldn’t piece together, but my body did. My blood ran cold.

When a sharp sting hit my finger, I realized I’d been stroking the gold wings of the bug. I immediately placed the brooch down and inspected the pad of my index finger. A droplet of blood pooled at the surface.

Idiot.

I sucked the blood off, and then shoved the scarab into my pocket, safely out of harm’s way and ready for further examination at the lab. My smart phone flashed as I photographed the papers until a sniff and a whiff uncovered something else: a faint scent of stainless steel and carbon fiber. James had been concealing weapons. I lifted the mattress and inspected underneath.

Nothing.

I stood in the center of the room, closed my eyes and allowed my senses to intensify. I reached out for strange vibrations, unusual scents and anything out of the ordinary. The stainless steel smell strengthened. I went deeper and smelled a smidge of amino-biphenyl, benzo nitrile and other solvents coming from somewhere. I opened my eyes, followed my nose and searched under the bed to find a pair of shoes with a shitload of adhesive residue stuck to the bottom. My eyes watered and I flinched as I sniffed the soles. After another dubious whiff… there… I had it. Hydrolyzed corn, rubber, and… pine.

I phoned the office and gave orders for someone to locate which factories within a five-mile radius used that combination of chemicals and extracts, then popped spearmint gum into my mouth and waited until a more pleasant scent filled my senses.

My finger began to throb where I’d pricked it on the scarab. Damned slow healing. The brooch was ancient Egyptian. I pondered for a minute as my brain made connections. During my time as User’s progeny, I’d noticed his living quarters were littered with Egyptian artifacts. He also hunted The Book of the Dead—now safely inside Roo’s D.N.A., it couldn’t be a coincidence. The scarab meant something.

Movement in my periphery caught my attention, and I flicked my gaze to the open window. A shadow flashed away. Thuds and clanks filled the room as a body escaped down the fire escape.

“Stop!” I bolted to the window.

I should’ve heard the stranger approach, but the brooch kept niggling at my senses, distracting me.

Damn it. Had it been James out there? I poked my head through the window. There, a blue-hooded, lanky frame ran across the lawn. I smelled the adhesive cocktail again, and as a waft of icy wind hit me, so did something I’d come to associate with witches. Something much more pungent.

“Fuck.”

I shoved up the stiff window frame and squeezed through just as the first droplets of rain landed on the railings and someone entered the room behind me.

Marc

“Right then, you taking notes, love?”

Claudette nodded from her seat across the large, white conference table. Her ponytail agreed vehemently.

Jacine arched an obscene eyebrow.

I reclined and swung on the legs of my stainless steel chair. Although I appeared fully clothed, it was part of an illusion-construct made from the dust particles surrounding me. I could make it as solid as I wanted. And today, I could feel the cold smoothness of the chair beneath my skin, but I didn’t mind; the solidity was comforting, rooting me firmly in the third dimension. The pull of the universe had a knack for distracting me, and often I lost track of time and space. But none of that dilly dallying now, I had work to do.

“Splendid. I don’t know whether you ladies are aware of what’s transpired at the ol’ penal colony, but—”

“The colony?” Claudette interrupted me.

“He means Australia, Claudette. It’s a joke,” Jacine added.

“I don’t get it.”

“You don’t need to. Carry on, Marc.”

“I meant, love, that Australia was settled by English convicts.”

“Oh. But that was over two hundred years ago.” Claudette flashed her eyes at Jacine. She didn’t seem to approve of her either. That made me like her even more because Jacine could make the world fall at her feet, so the ability to resist her magnetic pull was admirable. Maybe I’d give the Simon another crack later. Unlike me, she wouldn’t stay young forever, and who knew when I’d be back at the London Ludus? This could be my last chance.

“Two hundred years to me is a blip in the ocean.”

“That’s not the saying, Marc.”

I shrugged. “Don’t care.”

“Anyway, you were saying? Go on,” Jacine said.

“All right. There are a couple of things we need to go over, but first, we’ve got another unregistered Player—this one belongs to the bloody Urser House. She’s slipped under the radar because she appears to behave like a witch, but I’ve found her to be more similar to a Soul-Eater.”

I reveled in the women’s collective gasps. I liked delivering shocking news, especially when I’d already known about it for days. It made me feel powerful, important, and sexy as hell.

“She’s in Australia?” Jacine asked.

“Yes.”

“Then why haven’t you gone to the Sydney Ludus for this? I don’t want an unregistered Player on my record.”

“Jacine,” I looked into her eyes. “You know why I come here.”

“Oh.” She blushed, and a small rumble of delight erupted from my throat.

“Why do you come here?” Claudette asked.

That made Jacine even redder, and I laughed.

“I come here because I trust Jacine,” I said and looked Jacine up and down. “I don’t like her half the time, but there it is. We’re friends, I suppose.”

Jacine shot me a grateful look. She was the Goddess of Love, but she hated anyone to think she’d been granted control of the London Ludus for underhanded reasons. Yes, we’d been together, but it had been centuries ago. And since then, I’d had to confine her to the Ludus for breaking the rules of the Game—she’d started a few cults. She’d never quite forgiven me for her confinement, and we’d stopped talking.

“So, the Soul-Eater,” I prompted.

“I thought they were extinct.” Jacine crossed her legs and pursed her lips.

“Precisely.” I thrummed my fingers on the marble table top and shifted my feet. I’d been too long in one place already. Part of my fluid ability to traverse the dimensions meant that, biologically, I craved movement. “Dig up what you can about the last Soul-Eater, yeah? I’m not entirely sure if I can trust her, but she’s proven herself useful in more ways than one and the…”

I paused, unsure if our discord was enough to break Jacine’s loyalty. But if I didn’t tell them, then my secrets could eventuate in conflict. I wasn’t ready for civil war, not yet, I had to lay more groundwork first.

“The Witch Hunter is mentoring her—which is fitting, I suppose, and keeps her in check.”

Both women raised their brows at me.

“You know what I mean,” I continued. “She’s part witch. She’ll come out of this with her head screwed on straight as long as he sticks with her.”

I studied the air, deep in thought. Cash’s true Seraphim identity was the Empire’s enforcer and the Queen’s consort. But nobody else knew. Cash went missing thousands of years ago. But, seeing as the hunter had removed a vital ingredient to make the only physical portal this planet had work (the star-gate), nobody could physically leave. Except me.

One thing was for certain, if any of the banished Watchers, including the Prince, knew Cash was actually here on earth and vulnerable in a human body, he’d be a sitting duck.

I hadn’t seen the little brat of a prince since the day he destroyed his mother’s world. Little sod had been hiding for hundreds of years. Weak wanker.

I may think with my cods a lot, but I wasn’t a traitor like him.

“What’s her name?” Claudette was scribbling madly in her notebook.

“Beg your pardon?”

“The Player.”

“Little Red?”

“Uh, yes, I guess. Little Red is her first name?”

“Don’t be daft, it’s La Roux.”

“And her last name.”

“Urser—obviously. Aren’t you listening to a thing I’m saying? She’s La Roux-bleedin’-Urser. From House Urser.”

I smiled a little wistfully. My Little Red. Well, she wasn’t exactly little—as tall as any Player and with lovely tits and an ass to boot. I imagined she liked to go fast, in more ways than one. She had a feisty temper and abilities to match. I was downright choked that she turned out to be a Player.

My eyes glazed over as I re-imagined our embrace from the other day after she’d traveled through the in-between with me. And the kiss… the randy dreams I’d sent her way that she’d bounced right back at me. She was a minx, that girl. A challenge. Not only able to deflect my romantic advances, but giving it back, testing me in return. I didn’t care she was off limits. It turned me on, to be honest. She did something to me at a molecular level, and I wasn’t sure how, but it invigorated me. Thinking of Little Red reminded me of my other purpose here.

“Also, I need information on the witch called Eve,” I said. “Whatever you can find. I hear she’s the leader of the publicly declared coven in the States. She’s the one who instigated the treaty, so start there.”

“Why’s that?” Jacine asked.

“Why did she instigate the treaty? Buggered if I know. Don’t your simpletons have the interweb thingy for that kind of thing?”

“No, I meant, why do you want information on the witch?”

“None of your sodding business.” I couldn’t believe it. Where did she get off?

“I have ways of finding out, Marc.”

“You touch me with your ways and I’ll make sure you stay in confinement another year.”

Claudette rolled her eyes. “Is that all you need from me, or do you want me to book you two a room?”

“Shut your mouth,” Jacine snapped, irritation swimming over her features. “Or do you need a lesson in respect?”

I turned to Claudette. “Any messages for me, love?”

“You have three. Shall I go and get them for you?”

“What do you think, Claudette?” Jacine adjusted her hair with trembling fingers that betrayed her true emotions. “That’s a great idea. Leave. Also get the inventory of souls in Purgatory. It’s about time you cleared them out, Marc.”

The second Claudette left the room, Jacine rounded on me, all smugness gone from her face. “I’ve heard things, Marc… unexplainable things that are happening in the shadows. I need to know if you’re on my side or theirs. I want to go back and I’d rather do that in the Queen’s good graces, but if there is another way… well, the Empire is a big place.”

“What the bleedin’ hell is that supposed to mean?” I stood and straightened my clothing construct.

“It means, dove, that my loyalty is running thin. Give me something. Anything. Why are you spending so much time with a couple of illegitimate Players? What do you know?” Jacine stood.

“You first—what’s happening in the shadows?”

“Dove, you first.”

“Pet.”

We were at a standoff. I caved first. Because I was a gentleman.

“Jacey… I don’t know as much as you will have me know. I’m tied up being the Gamekeeper—it’s not as glamorous as it sounds, yeah?”

“Bollocks. You know things, Egnatius.”

My eyes widened and a violent tingle rippled through my body, shuddering across my skin. She’d used my real name. This close to me! The sensation echoed and permeated my blood in response to her command, sending internal combustion sparks coursing through my veins, repeatedly. Each ripple seemed more tender than the previous, until at long last, it faded. My jaw clenched, and I fought the urge to move towards her. Two can play at this game, I thought.

“Aurelia.”

She gasped, no doubt feeling the same jolt all high-ranking Seraphim did when their true name was called. A true name was a gift bestowed only on those truly trusted by the Seraphim. I’d given mine up on a whim after a marathon lovemaking session with her, the goddess of love. In return, she’d been tricked out of hers by the trickster himself. Me.

For humans, it was simply a way to pray to their gods. They speak, and through the sensation, we knew they were praying to us. The more people that prayed to us, the better we felt, and hence the more likely we were to reward them for their loyalty. For the Seraphim, however, saying a true name so close to each other in this realm had an erotic physiological effect of epic proportions. Some would say this effect was a blessing from nature and The Universe’s way of approving of our presence here. Of all we were doing.

Bollocks. I thought it made for a jolly good bonk with the right person. Saying each other’s name, right at climax, could literally shatter the earth. A stab of guilt sliced through me when I remembered Pompeii and what Jacine and I had done with our reckless abandon. Thankfully, Pompeii was an early Ludus and no Simons were harmed in its downfall.

I gave her a warning look.

Jacine stepped closer and licked her full lips. “This is unjust. Urser is permitted to embed himself into human society and I can’t. The Prince hides away, doing whatever he wants and I’m just a fucking breeding mare, popping out the next foal to be paraded around the field. I’m sick of it. I want to have my own life, and if I can’t, I want out.”

“Whoa. Back up.” I pointed at a finger, counting out my explanation. “A: Urser is also producing offspring and he’s not harming humans. B: the Prince is bloody royalty; he does whatever the bleedin’ hell he wants. If he wants to hide away, then so be it. We don’t need him. And C: you know why you’re here. You betrayed the Queen.”

“Bollocks. That was thousands of years ago. Those cults were a tempestuous teenager stomping her foot. I’ve grown up. As you can see, I’ve got complete control of my abilities now. I haven’t incited an orgy in years.”

“It wasn’t just the sex, Jacine. It was that you were taking their free will. That was one of the rules the Queen stipulated for this Game. Always let them have their free will. You should remain loyal to the Queen at all times. As I am.”

“Even though it’s destroying you slowly from the inside?”

I stepped back. “There’s nothing wrong with my insides, as you well know.”

“You know what I mean, Marc. She’s using you up. This gig of yours is turning you into a stranger. You shag anything with tits and two legs and forget about it a moment later. You’re not the same caring Marc I remember.”

I gasped. “I take offense to that. Strike the words ‘with tits’ from that sentence. Two legs is good enough for me.”

I dodged the pen she threw at me. “Stop being a tosser.”

“Stop? Well, I’ll have you know that you’re not the same sexy, attentive Jacine, either. Time is long and varied. We change, adapt, or move on. Besides, a good shag is good for the soul.”

A frustrated sound ripped from Jacine’s throat and her gaze turned inwards. I could guess what she was thinking, from the way her aura ebbed and flowed. Time to change sides; she was fighting a losing battle.

“The Prince is weak,” Jacine continued, composed once again. “There hasn’t been a trace of the darkness in a long time. There would be no danger to the Empire if the Queen lifted this ridiculous quarantine and let us all come home early. This little punishment has gone on long enough, and nothing has come of it. Don’t you think I’ve suffered enough? I want to go home.”

“The Queen has a long memory. Nobody in that first wave of indifference is allowed to re-enter the Empire. She wants subjects who take action, not those who idly watch while innocents are slaughtered. When the dark disease spread, nobody protected her creations. They let it play out. The Game is her way of teaching you all a lesson.”

“It’s not a lesson; it’s a prison.”

“Yes, well. It doesn’t change the fact.”

“I watched over them well enough when I had the chance.”

Laughter burst from my mouth. “Watched over them? The last time you were allowed to watch over them you ended up with cults named after you. People still remember the name Aphrodite.”

“Shut up. Don’t say that name.”

I chuckled. “Why? Ashamed?”

“Never. I’ve just come a long way, that’s all. I have self-control now. Like I said, I haven’t had an orgy in over a century—”

“Shame.”

“Could you be serious for one moment? Have you even asked the Queen? Have you put forward our petition?”

“I have. Not in person though. She’s not seeing anyone, you know that.”

Jacine slouched into her chair and dropped her head in her hands. She scrubbed her fingers through her baby pink strands. Peculiar fashion trend that one. She appeared to have silky fairy-floss attached to her head.

Her voice was muffled. “But it’s been an eternity. How are we supposed to get out of this if she won’t even hear our petition?” She lifted her gaze to lock with my own, the iridescent blue a genetic trademark of the gods. “I’ve remained loyal. Despite the Prince and Urser campaigning for an army—yes I know that little secret—I’ve passed on all inside knowledge to you and remained impartial. I’ve remained loyal, damn it. Maybe I should finally give in and save myself a place with them. I should join their rebellion.”

“Codswallop,” I snapped, fury souring my tongue. Her threats were wasted on me. I cared less about her switching sides than I did about coffee. She was all talk. “The Game is nearing its end. Motions have been set into play. The wheels are turning, love. Don’t get caught up in them and stumble. Stay out of the way, else I won’t be able to protect you from the Queen’s wrath.”

“I’m not sure if I can wait any more. I’ve heard things. People are talking, making plans.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I narrowed my eyes at the treasonous talk. “What are you not saying, Jacine?”

“I’m saying that there’s a way out of this for us. There are those back home who are working to free us.”

“How would you know that? It’s impossible for you to know anything from the Empire. I’m the only one who relays information. I’m the only one who can travel there and remember everything, so whatever you heard must be false.”

“I’m sorry, darling, but that’s simply not true.”

My blood turned cold. “Who? How?”

Jacine got up and snaked closer, hips swaying from side to side, until she fiddled with my collar. “So strange, how you hide behind a coat of illusion, but it feels so real.”

I swallowed. It felt real because it was real. An illusion-construct made from dust and discarded life. It was connected to me. Constructed from me. And she was touching it, me. I was in danger.

A coldness crept into the room. Shadows felt darker, the light less pure. A movement in the air behind Jacine caught my attention, but when I looked, I found an empty corner. Blue plastered walls and mahogany carpet with a pattern that made me want to vomit, but nothing else unsettling.

“Is there someone else here?” I asked.

“It’s just you and me, Marc.” She drew my face back to her with her finger on my jaw.

“I could’ve sworn I felt someone else’s aura in here.”

“You still haven’t given me anything, Egnatius. What’s so special about the boy? What is the hunter’s Seraphim name?” Sensation rippled through me at the mention of my name, this time hitting me squarely between the legs, setting me on fire. Her voice was hypnotic, and my hair stood on end. I swallowed hard through the humming heat under my skin.

I resisted. We battled silently until I finally drew a mantle of strength around me. “He’s none of your business. Pull yourself together, woman.”

Jacine did. She smoothed her dress, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, she picked up a small remote from the table and clicked at the glass doors behind me. The clear glass frosted, hiding us from the world. She latched onto me like a predator, pushing me down into my chair and towering over me.

“You’re hiding something from me. Something about the hunter. You know I have strong instincts about such things. Does he know how to get us home? Is he the hunter?”

I laughed. My fingers twitched. “No. He’s not.” Rotten liar. “And even if he was, he’s thousands of years from his original self. As if he’d still have what he took from the gate.”

“Maybe we don’t need it anymore.”

“Right. Good luck with that. The technology here is light years away from getting you back.”

She’d asked about Samson. The woman had powerful instincts, or someone must be pulling her strings, feeding her information, promising her a way out if she cooperated.

She bent forward until her breath tickled my neck, her pert breasts half exposed, straining against the captivity of her white dress. Her nipples hovered perilously close to my face. She cocked her head and ran her nail lightly down my cheek. “Surely we can come to an arrangement. A virile god like yourself, a goddess with needs like myself…” She lifted a knee and nudged it between my legs. I almost whimpered and scooted as far back as my chair would allow. “Dah-ling. You know I’ve always liked you. Remember that time we spent three glorious nights in Barbados? We can say each other’s names over and over again. I’ll give it to you any which way you want; just say the word.”

My heart raced. She’d been ridden more times than the town bicycle. But I could smell her heady perfume and it made everything inside me leap to attention. I was in trouble. She would have my tongue loose in seconds. Before I could stop myself, my hands were kneading her curves, angling upwards. She kissed my jawline, sending shock waves of pleasure through my body and I groaned, trembling. Of course I wanted to go there, she was the most wanted woman in the world, known for her ability to turn any man into screaming puddles of ecstasy, including me. The way she said my name. She was pleasure incarnate, a goddess of love, experienced in extracting information from bodies, male and female alike. My brain screamed—run, escape!

Quick. Think of something else. Something I wanted more. I had to want it more.

My thoughts flittered to the girl.

Little Red.

I blinked and shook my head. But her face became a beacon—something for me to latch onto. Refuge. I conjured the sweet smell of her, the feel of her aura, the pleasure of her soft skin when I’d hugged her tight that night at the hunter’s home. I’d wanted more.

“Love, that’s a cheap shot.” I chose a spot across the other side of the table, unbound the magnetic field surrounding my atoms and moved in the blink of an eye.

Jacine fell forward into the space I had vacated. She thumped her fist madly on the chair’s surface and screamed in frustration. “How do you do that? You must teach me, or at least take me with you. It’s simply not fair you are the only person in the entire Empire who has that skill.”

Not the only one. Little Red could do it too. Sort of. She’d borrowed the ability from me. But that was our little secret. One amongst many.

“Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t move you with me, Jacine. Your atoms would tangle and by the time we reached our destination, you’d be destroyed. Forever. Not asleep. Not resting. But gone—G-O-N-E—gone.”

She rounded on me and palmed the marble table between us. “Then give me a child with your D.N.A.”

“What?” I stepped back as though she’d struck me. My hands hovered over my exposed privates. Bloody side effect.

“You heard me. I want a child.”

“You’ve had children before. Plenty of them.”

“They were half-breeds. I want a full Seraphim child that has the ability to traverse through space like you. If you can’t take me with you, then maybe a child with half my D.N.A. can.”

I swallowed, the heat rising from my body was not a reaction to my preferred mode of transport.

“There’s no guarantee my child would have the same skills, and it can take millennia to develop.”

“I’ll tell you everything I know about the darkness.” She licked her lips. “Dove, if our child has your abilities, you will be released from your service. The Queen will no longer require your loyalty because there will be a new messenger. You will be free to pursue a life of your own making.”

Freedom.

“Let me think on it, yeah?” I worm-holed my ass out of there.

I barely caught Jacine’s words as they vibrated through the atmosphere and were lost in the wind: “But the souls in Purgatory…”

Cash

“There you are.” Roo strode through the door to James’s room, cheeks and nose pink from the cold, red hair tousled around her shoulders from the wind outside. “We’ve been looking all over—”

“I’ll deal with you later,” I growled.

I vaulted the fire-escape railings to land on the level below. One more jump took me to the ground.

My nose told me the boy had run west so that’s where I went. But the further I ran, the less sure I was. The breeze and rain, an arctic thief, had stolen the scent. After fifteen minutes of canvasing the block, I cursed and jogged back to the orphanage, phoning the office as I went. No answer.

When I shoved back through the window of the heated dormitory, I gave Roo a maddened glare. She’d cost me precious seconds, and I’d lost the boy and the witch. She disobeyed me and Jed had let her.

I should have been infuriated, but, strangely, I felt lighter. Confused at my body’s reaction, I stalked towards her, and the tightness in my chest loosened even more. I wanted to be angry. But I couldn’t.

Jed dragged in behind Roo, his face pinched.

“Why are you—” I started.

“Shut up.” She waggled her finger at my face. “Look, I know you’ve got a super important job doing super important stuff, but you can’t walk out without a word after what happened this morning. I’m sorry but you can’t. And don’t blame Jed, he had no choice. I said I would fry his insides.” She moved her hands to the curve of her hips. Her jeans burned as her fingers heated with power, a tendril of tiny smoke lifted from her touch. Chagrined at her actions, she shook her hands, then returned her gaze. “I told you your mother called,” she said. “You haven’t spoken to her yet. We’re here for your brother’s funeral, not for you to work. You need to call her back.” She allowed a beat of silence as she took a breath. “Besides, we might be able to help. What’s so important that you had to run ass over tit away from us?”

Peculiar expression.

My lips twitched with the need to smile, but I pushed the urge down and gathered my resolve. I opened my mouth to respond when I heard the high-pitched voices of children downstairs. Seconds later, thunder shook the staircase and little feet spilled into the corridor outside the bedroom.

Roo froze and watched the boys with large, liquid eyes—their little faces mirrored her emotion, gazing back with gaping jaws. The smallest ginger-haired, freckle-faced boy slowed down completely to stare at the red hair cascading down her shoulders, a more vibrant version of his own. She smiled at him slowly and gave a timid half wave. He grinned back.

“Off you go now, Mr. Michaels. Unpack your bag and begin your homework.” A tall and rosy-cheeked, round-faced woman stepped onto the landing and gave the boy a gentle nudge toward the dorms. She eyed the three visitors in James’s room.

Mrs. Merriweather.

“As you can see, Mr. Samson, James is not with me. I’m afraid he’s still missing. Nobody knows where he has gone.”

We follow her downstairs where she held the door to a meeting room open for us.

“The police have issued a warrant for his arrest and, because he’s almost of age, I’m concerned this will affect his life more than he knows. We can talk more about it inside so the children can’t hear.”

“I’ll be just a moment,” I said and walked into the room. I slid out a chair for Mrs. Merriweather. When she sat down, I returned to the hallway with my misguided progeny and closed the door behind us. Before I could start, I clamped my jaw shut and frowned. Roo had an odd look on her face, one she’d never directed at me before, as though my reason for being here was suddenly viable in her opinion. It suddenly dawned on me what that face meant and I stepped back.

“No,” I said. “No, no, no. Don’t look at me like that. I’m not that guy, La Roux, I’m not.”

“But this is your orphanage—your name was on the door,” she gushed with twinkling eyes. “I can’t believe I didn’t put two and two together. You’re here to help the little boys?” She stepped towards me. “No wonder you had to leave. This really is important work. The children. I’m so sorry I yelled at you, I had no right.”

Jed, still in the hallway covered his smile with his hand.

Bastard’s enjoying this.

“Stop.” I was not the good guy. I was going to leave her. Abandon her. I almost preferred it when she was afraid of me. “Go back to my apartment and do as you were told.” I shot Jed a withering stare. “What were you thinking? I would’ve thought an officer of the law had better crowd-control experience.”

“Pffft.” She blew a raspberry at me. “When do I ever do as I’m told? I’m coming in with you. We’re a team, remember.”

A ping sounded on my phone. When I checked, Nell had given me a series of factories that might be of interest according to the chemicals I supplied. When I turned my attention back to Roo, she watched me like a hawk.

“I mean it, Roo. Go home. Work on your training and I will be back later tonight. You can’t help here.”

“But… what happened to us sticking together? What happened to us trusting each other?”

“You can’t fix everything.”

“No, I can’t. I know that. But I thought together we stood a chance. I guess I was wrong. You were wrong.”

I heard her accusatory words, but ignored them. Even though I’d said something similar to her only a few days ago, I left the two in the hall so I could discuss James’s murder charge with Mrs. Merriweather.

* * *

An hour later, while driving home from the orphanage, I thought about James. He was the first kid I’d rescued from the clutches of a witch. It had happened years ago, but the horror of James’s emaciated figure, starved and huddled into his sister’s corpse had been irrevocably burnt into my memory. The boy had been only nine. His sister had given up all of her meals for him and died herself from malnutrition. All because a witch had possessed their mother and the unintelligible being had no idea how to care for children. She’d locked them away with only a second thought to feed them every other day. They weren’t the first orphans of witchcraft to be found and certainly weren’t the last.

Back then, I had seen to the welfare of displaced children because it was the right thing to do. There was no emotion involved. It was pure logic. Leave the kids to suffer, they would die. Provide safe housing for them when no one else could, and they would live. I had money to burn. Too much from the government for my sanctioned witch-hunting sessions. It made sense. The children looked up to me, and I hadn’t even tried. Now, I realized I could’ve done a hell of a lot more. Money wasn’t everything. If I’d been more of a role model to the boy, James wouldn’t be in this mess. I had to find him before the police did.

The notion spurred me to change directions and take a detour toward the latex mattress factory Nell had suggested. Roo and my mother would have to wait. The funeral would have to wait. I had to find James.

I cut the engine as I pulled up to the factory’s curb and coasted silently until I could conceal the car under the shadows of a not-too-distant tree. Then I checked my weapons: a handgun from the glove compartment, and a few knives I’d tucked under seats, just in case. After I had enough support of the metal kind, I crept passed the main office to the rear factory entrance, where I huddled against the wall, ignoring the dropping temperature.

The scent I’d found on James’s shoe leeched into my nose. I edged closer to the back door and listened. At least three distinct heartbeats thrummed inside. One was slightly faster and lighter than the others. James? Yet there was something off about it. Something erratic. This was the place all right. The sweet, pungent smell confirmed that a witch was either inside or had been recently.

Good enough for me. I scanned the area for lurkers before pulling my gun from my belt. The door was unlocked. Idiots.

I turned the knob and, once inside, crept through the concrete factory room past aisles lined with stacks of plastic-covered mattresses that reached the roof. At the end of the first section, I flattened my body against a stack and tried to make sense of the sight before me. A mattress had been tossed onto the floor and two men crowded over a body.

James.

He laid face up, his eyes rolled back and his lips curved in mindless pleasure. One man held him down and the other injected a dark substance into the crook of his arm. Drugs.

A red haze coated my vision as rage broke the barricade holding my demons at bay and I lunged forward to confront them. I bit my tongue to restrain my temper and narrowly avoided squeezing the trigger on my gun.

“Hands where I can see them,” I barked and pointed my weapon at the two men. Both stood back a step from James and held their hands in the air.

So docile. So compliant.

Something wasn’t right. Why could I smell the stench of a witch? Witches only possessed women and they rarely traveled without a host. But the scent was eye-watering, indisputable.

I scanned the area, letting my instincts pick up anything of interest: oil slick on the floor, burned rubber scent near the garage, urine, red paint… none if it relevant to the puzzle unfolding in front of me.

“Get that shit out of his arm,” I ordered.

One man—stocky and with a procession of metal studs down each ear—pulled out the half-depleted syringe and leered at me.

The other man glared from his square face and shoved his hands into his trench coat pockets. Potential concealed weapon, my instincts warned. The man stepped closer to the boy, never taking his beady eyes from me. His movements were smooth and agile, like a cat’s.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Trench Coat said.

“Shut up. Hands behind your head. What did you put in the boy?” I inched closer.

Trench Coat ignored me. I stepped forward and aimed the gun at his face, but a groan from the boy turned my head.

That moment of distraction was all that was needed for someone to knock the gun from my hand. When I looked back, a fist met my face, and I reeled to the floor. The fuck?

I’d never in my life been this sloppy. I was faster and stronger than any fighter I’d faced—it was part of my ability, my advantage in the Game.

I took a moment to gather myself, but when I did, I unleashed the devil inside.

I launched at Earrings and rained punch after punch down on him. Left to the face, right to the rib, a jab in the throat. Precise, well timed and effective. I could’ve disabled him quicker with two fingers to his eyes but I enjoyed this—making him hurt. The man’s face morphed into a bloody mess.

I realized I’d spent too long on him when I caught a blow to the left kidney from Trench Coat followed with another hit to my side. My body screamed in pain with every intake of breath. I fished for a knife in my boot and rounded on Trench Coat, plunging the blade deep into his shoulder. I released the handle.

He flinched, stepped back, but then came at me again. In a flash, a second knife was in my hand and I threw. It embedded in his other shoulder.

Not good enough. He charged.

Fine, that’s how it’s going to be. No more dicking around. A swift jab to the throat dropped him, choking and clutching his neck. I popped him in the sternum for good measure. A clear crack resounded.

He wasn’t getting up anytime soon.

I pulled my knife from his shoulder and wiped it on his coat. My ribs ached as I straightened, and my fingers splintered in pain. Earrings had fallen in a heap. I nudged him with my foot. Heartbeat still strong. He’d be fine.

As I turned away, a curious marking on Earring’s skin showed beneath his dislodged shirt. Purple, pink, swirls of dark blue and an unmistakable network of black lines spread across the epidermis.

Thunder rumbled outside, and lightning sparked into the room from the high windows, casting shadows across the face of my victim. I sliced his shirt from his chest downwards. A star-map.

Player.

“Shit.” It pointed to Ursa Constellation—Roo’s father’s territory. What the fuck does that bastard have going on here? I considered plunging the knife into the man’s heart, ending his Game. Two weeks ago, before I’d met Roo, that’s what I would’ve done.

My instincts whispered: Kill, rage, protect.

But I held back. Instead, I checked on James. I crouched down and listened to his heartbeat. It fluttered as one would expect a heart in strain to do.

I secured the man’s hands with some cable ties I found nearby and then slapped him in the face. Hard.

“Wake up.”

“Wha—” The man’s eyes fluttered open. He tried to lash out with his hands, but they were tied.

“It’s just you and me, bro.” I flipped the knife in front of his face. “What are your plans with Urser? What are you doing to the boy?”

The man sulked. “I ain’t telling you nuthin’.”

“Wrong answer.” I cracked his jaw with the hilt of my knife.

The man spat blood. I leaned forward and frowned at the sharp change in breath odor. “What was in the vial?”

“Our salvation.”

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I rapped the hilt of my knife on the man’s forehead.

“The darkness will no longer be lost in the shadows of the night.” The man bit down and foam mixed with blood, dribbled from the corner of his mouth. The nutty smell grew stronger. Cyanide. “Hoc est bellum,” he gurgled, then died.

“Idiot.” I flung my knife across the room. Jesus-fucking-Christ—why would he do that? Why spend years training at The Ludus, learning to play the Game, only to leave it prematurely? Surely his actions weren’t enough to score him an evolutionary advantage when he returned to the Empire. He’d most likely return to his natural body as less of a man than he was before. It made little sense. Prematurely removing yourself from the Game lost you points. The Universe didn’t like quitters and punished them for it. So why would he do that?

Why indeed? A mocking voice popped into my head.

But the cyanide, the dark vial, and the Urser House connection. I shook my head at the evidence. Something was definitely awry.

Important enough to die for.

Trench Coat had curled into a fetal position. He wheezed. As did James. I had a choice to make. Take out my grievance on the misguided Player, or help James. After restraining the enemy with some discarded cable ties, I jimmied the man’s three cyanide caps from his teeth with the tip of a knife and pocketed them. I’d send Jed around later with a team to collect Trench Coat and interrogate him further.

James’s frail body weighed next to nothing in my arms as I carried him to the car. Draped over my arms like a rag doll, the boy had stopped stirring. Rain had started to fall again, its fresh scent welcome after the stench of the warehouse. I reached the car and placed the boy on the back seat. The pungent smell of witch lingered. I sniffed, testing.

It came from James.

James twitched.

Lightning sparked. The burst of light revealed foreign movement over James’s skin. It rippled, lumpy, like something swam underneath. Seconds later thunder crashed.

One disaster at a time, I thought and drove at break-neck speed towards my office. The boy was failing. Expiring. Who knew what had been injected? James wasn’t a Player, he wouldn’t wake in Purgatory to have his soul transported back to the Empire. He would dissolve into the earth’s atmosphere, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Forgotten.

Marc

I walked through the streets of London, a little shell-shocked. I had no idea how to handle Jacine. While I wanted answers about the darkness bollocks she touted, I didn’t have the nerve to return without a solid plan. She was a hard woman to refuse. One needed nerves of steel when dealing with the Goddess of Love, especially one such as myself, with a yearning for the blasted emotion.

And why did I keep thinking of Little Red? Sure, she was a smashing piece of ass, but I didn’t trust her, so why did I want to be near her? Why did I crave her? I’d already visited the hunter’s physician three times this week, and according to him, nothing was wrong. But I felt hot and bothered. Perhaps I was coming down with something. I wiped my forehead, checking my temperature. That’s what the Simons did, wasn’t it? Check for a fever?

But I wasn’t a Simon. I was a god. The god-of-the-in-between. Blimey, gods didn’t get sick.

“Fucking bollocks,” I muttered as I walked past a newsstand.

An old geezer sorting out the listings gasped at my words. I began to apologize—or curse again, I hadn’t decided—but stopped short at the sight of a magazine behind him on the rack. A woman’s kind eyes smiled from a middle-aged face, generic in its simplicity. Next to her in bold typography was: Eve—Witches: the Light Against the Dark.

“You’d better close that trap, young man. It’s a new age—no use fighting it. Next thing you know, there’ll be aliens coming out of the closet.”

I clamped my mouth closed, swiped the magazine off the rack and started walking as I flipped to the feature.

“Oi! You gonna pay for that?” the old man shouted.

“What’s that?” I pointed at an undetermined spot in the cloudy sky and stepped through the dimensions, finding myself a nice spot across the park to peruse the story.

“Bollocks.”

I stared down at my empty hands. The magazine hadn’t traveled with me. I bloody forgot it wasn’t organic and couldn’t traverse through space with me. I glanced back to the newsstand and saw it lying on the grass in tattered pieces, the old man ambling over to retrieve it.

I shook my head at my bungle. Almost as amateur as a Player. I must be in a state.

Start again.

I changed my appearance to the suave James Bond type I’d concocted through many experiments with the ladies. Then I pulled the atoms in the air together around me to form an illustrious-construct which clothed myself in respectable attire—a three piece suit and a newsboy style cap. I approached the stand again.

“How goes it, good sir?” I said in my best serious voice as I approached. I loved playing games with Simons.

“Bloody youth of today,” the old man grumbled.

“Entitled sods, the lot of them, ey?” I made an action of pulling something out of my expensive looking fake jacket and held out my hand to the man. It was nothing, of course, but the old man saw what I wanted him to see: a ten pound note. “I’ll take the one with the witch, thank you. It’s a new age, after all, no sense fighting it.”

The old man’s jaw dropped. He handed me the magazine, and I chuckled.

“Keep the change,” I said and walked away with my head firmly between two pages.

So she was in town.

The witch was in town headlining a conference that promoted the cooperation between witches and humans. I only had to wait a few days, then I’d be able to ask the miscreant herself about the history of my mate, Cash. Little Red said Eve was the one who’d cursed his soul, splitting it into three all those years ago. But why? And how could Eve think she was the solution to the darkness? She was the darkness! Those bloody whores of evolution—feeding on humans like parasites—imperfect and bastardized carbon copies of Seraphim souls… My brows tightened. Still, I couldn’t help wonder about the coincidence in terminology. The Light Against the Dark. Too similar to the scourge of darkness released by the Prince all those years ago. It was the sole reason the Queen had quarantined the infected to this planet. It only became a game afterward to appease the bickering territories grieved to have lost their dignitaries to the conflict.

I sat down hard on a park bench. My weary body sagged in the seat. This game—this world—it was getting to me. I loved the Simons, but after thousands of years, I was tired.

I wanted out.

Jacine’s offer flooded my mind, and I momentarily gave into the desire to take her up on it.

But, no. No matter how much I wanted out, I was loyal. I would never create another soul just to give myself a break and I would never betray Sephie even if she was slowly fading and forgetting me. That made it worse. How could you turn your back on a friend who needed your help the most?

Flicking the pages of Eve’s interview backwards and forwards, I pondered about what witches had to gain by a partnership with the humans. Was it just about the symbiotic relationship, or was there something more? Perhaps they were joining the fight to get back to paradise, uniting against a common enemy. There had been a witch working in cahoots with Urser after all. She could be the first of many.

What was it the Simons said on those little black boxes with moving pictures? I’d caught a bit of a show the last time I shacked up with a girl after the football.

What was that show? What were those words?

The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

I threw the magazine in the trash can next to me and paced up and down the path as something far more disturbing occurred to me.

I couldn’t remember Eve.

She was supposed to be an ancient and powerful witch—the first of her kind. I’d been around on this planet since the beginning, but that was so long ago that my memory had warped. The circumstances surrounding the day the hunter blocked all traitorous Seraphim from the Empire was equally hard to grasp. I was sure Cash and I were friends. Colleagues. Soldiers on the same side at the very least. We’d both given up everything to serve the Queen. The last thing I remembered on that day was Sephie screaming, Kill them all, before I took her back home.

But that was ancient history. And living for tens of thousands of years made the simple task of pulling a specific memory from my brain’s internal archive tremendously difficult. It wasn’t uncommon amongst the oldest of us. After all, if you remembered everything, you’d go barmy.

Right. That does it then. I needed to get back to the London Ludus and see what the sexy secretary had discovered, maybe even ask her out for a quick how’s your mother. I also needed to make a trip to Purgatory, collect the souls and return them to the Empire. Then of course, Sephie needed to be apprised of the brewing unrest on this planet.

But before all that, though, I needed to uncover some truths about myself.

“Time to see the Librarian,” I decided.

Cash

My leading witch-hunting business filled an entire ten floor office building in the heart of Houston. The administration was on the ground two levels, a gymnasium in the middle, with research and medical at the top. My facility was government sanctioned, which gave me extra political clout. But that wasn’t why I was successful.

Ask me to find something and I could. Anything.

But ask me to fix somebody and I was useless.

Maybe I should’ve let Roo stay. Her abilities spanned beyond that of a witch and would have been useful. I’d seen her do something to one of her friends back in Australia. What was his name? Alvin. That was it. A witch had hexed him, and he was dying. But Roo had incubated a remedy within herself, then sent it into the boy and commanded his body to fix itself. Her power mastered biology—it was incredible. The cure had resulted in a man with bigger musculature and physique than before. He’d morphed from a pudgy nobody into someone built and fighting fit. It was better than a miracle.

Maybe she could heal the boy. James didn’t deserve what was happening to him, whatever it was.

I’d called ahead to let the office know I was coming. The nurse I had on retainer greeted me with a gurney as I rushed through the front doors, James in my arms. I placed the boy onto it and we went straight up to the surgery at the top level. When we arrived, James was lifted onto a hard operating table at the center of the room.

“Where’s Bertram?” I asked.

“On his way in. What was the drug?” asked Miranda, the new nurse, as she flashed a light into his eyes. Upon seeing the nefarious ripple under James’s skin, she flinched, jumping back. “What the hell was that?”

“That’s why he’s here and not the hospital,” I said to the portly woman. “I’m not sure what was injected, but it’s clear it’s doing something to him.”

“It was injected,” she mused. “So perhaps it’s not contagious, but, still, we can’t be certain. We need to set up a quarantine.” She had a sharp nose and a severe ponytail, maybe thirty years old. From the yellow stains around her left fingers, a smoker. Human too.

I didn’t like trusting sensitive paranormal information to someone who couldn’t follow her own health advice. She would have signed a non-disclosure statement as well as being generously paid, so it was unlikely she’d go spilling the beans about my clandestine world. But still, if this was the kind of hiring that had gone on while I was away in Australia, perhaps ending my vessel’s life wasn’t such a good idea.

A whimper came from James and his head shook from side to side as though he were having a bad dream. Miranda moved to retrieve a syringe filled with a sedative. I leaned closer to James. Some instinct had me trying to uncover something with my inspection, and for some reason, I thought if I was right up close, I’d discover it. But when my eyes were in line with his, a hand span away, he opened them and stared into my soul.

“James, we’re going to help you,” I said and placed my palm firmly on his shoulder.

He blinked, and I noticed a black film coating the edges of his eyes. A sick feeling rolled inside. So much like a witch, yet, it was impossible.

“James?” I asked. “Can you hear me? It’s Cash. Do you remember me?”

A growl rumbled from Jame’s throat. “You took something from my room.”

“What was it, James?”

He bared his teeth. “I want it back.”

Then he thrashed about, fingernails sharp as claws as they slashed for me. I pulled back, narrowly missing injury. When Miranda drew close, he went for her too. I held the boy down while she injected him. Within seconds, he relaxed, closed his eyes, and sighed before going still.

Miranda gathered herself and fussed with the plastic gloves on her hands. “Wow. Whatever he’s taken, that’s some drug. Did you get a sample?”

I paused. “No.”

Miranda pursed her lips, eyes condescending over the newly adhered surgical mask. “Then it will take longer for us to figure out how to help him and whether this is contagious.”

“I know that,” I snapped. “I’ll send for a team to canvas and clean the site. There may be another witness who can provide clues.” I hated being wrong. I should’ve taken the empty syringe, but I hadn’t. “James smells like a witch. Something isn’t right. It’s not possible for a witch to be in a male body.”

“Well, there’s nothing you can do right now. We’ll take it from here and, please, get yourself checked out. Don’t leave the building until the lab results are back in and the quarantine is lifted.”

“I’m immune to witchcraft.”

“What if this isn’t witchcraft?”

My jaw clenched, but I stayed silent.

“If you get the all clear, go and sort out the rest,” Miranda added.

Who did she think she was, my mother?

In the end, I left the boy in the hands of the professionals and headed to my office. My mind revved like a performance race car—I couldn’t stop the thoughts coursing through and, yet, I couldn’t settle on one. I ignored Miranda’s suggestion to get checked out. I was fine.

Fucking peachy.

* * *

I slipped my jacket off and neatly folded it to hang over the back of my leather office chair, then called operations and tasked a sweep and keep team. I left Jed out of it, purely because I wasn’t ready to go back and face Roo yet. She’d had such admiration in her eyes the last time she saw me. I needed Jed to stay put for now.

Plus I had a mountain of paperwork. I filed through the pile of papers on my desk. To sum it up, there had been a few reported cases of maleficent possession in the last few weeks, but each case had been closed by my men. There were a few pro-bono requests I needed to sign for, and some applications for me specifically to head the hunt—mostly from the government. Speaking of government, I scrunched up the offer for direct employment from them. It was the third time they’d sent a letter in the past month. The last thing I wanted was to take orders again—no more contract killing. I shuddered. The next hour was spent going through the paper work and wincing every time my range of movement spanned more than a few centimeters—hell, every time I moved.

The fading light from my window reminded me the day was almost done, and my protesting stomach told me I hadn’t eaten.

“Nell,” I said as I strode out of my office. I sidestepped an indoor plant I didn’t remember being there and almost tumbled into her desk.

“Yes, Mr. Samson?” She stood up from her seat. Her earpiece was still in, and she had bags under her big round eyes. Her light brown hair had strings of gray spliced through it. She had aged since I’d last seen.

“How is the boy? I feel terrible,” she asked.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I should’ve called you earlier. I’m so sorry.”

“You were only following orders—my orders—that I wasn’t to be disturbed. Never mind that. Before you clock off, find me some food.” That was a bit rude, I thought, and remembered my early memory flash about not being so abrupt. I added in a softer voice, “Thank you. Please leave it on my desk. Also can you arrange for someone from Research and Development to report on this as soon as possible? Then you can go home. Thank you.”

I handed her the gold scarab.

“Sure. I’ll get right onto that.”

“And take the day off tomorrow.”

“Sir?”

“You’ve been working overtime, so have a break. Paid of course.”

“Thank you.”

“Samson,” a gruff voice said behind me.

I turned to find Bertram, my personal physician, standing a meter away, white eyebrow arched high, unimpressed. His long, angled nose made him appear superior even though I was a foot taller. I straightened unconsciously. Bertram wore a white medical lab coat over his slim body and held his hands in front, fiddling with a chipped button.

“No one is leaving until they pass a physical, ya? Miss. Nell, you report to my rooms before you leave for the day, Dr. Cassie can see you. As for you Mr. Samson, you were injured. Have you healed then, or are you in need of assistance?” His German accent was slight, but recognizable. East Central Dialect, perhaps Berlin or Frankfurt. The knowledge surfaced from my subconscious. Without a doubt. Perhaps I’d lived there before in an old life.

“Uh…” I darted a glance around the room. Nell had returned to her computer, searching the online menu of some restaurant. If I agreed to an examination, Bertram would discover my bodily failings, but I had no choice. “Yes. Fine, I’ll go first.”

“Okay.” Bertram looked surprised. “Ya, okay then. This way.”

He ushered me into a medical examination room on the next floor and asked me to perch on the edge of a gurney.

“Is any of that blood yours?” Bertram pointed to my shirt.

“I’m not sure.”

He mumbled incoherently, inhaled sharply and blew abruptly through his nose. “Take it off.”

“Yes, sir.” I unbuttoned my shirt and winced as invisible needles stabbed my torso. I smoothed the shirt on my lap, folded it, and then placed it next to me in a neat pile.

The doctor clucked and leaned forward to inspect my bruised skin.

“How long ago did you say this was inflicted?”

“About two hours.”

“It looks fresh.”

“And?”

“Don’t get smart with me, young man. You know very well what I meant. You aren’t healing at the rate befitting your biological makeup. This should be gone by now, ya?” Bertram straightened. “I want you to postulate why this is so. Explain what has happened to you since I last saw you.”

I took a deep breath. How much to tell?

As if he could hear my thoughts, Bertram added, “This partnership only works with honesty. I may be Player like you, but I still have a Hippocratic oath to uphold, ya? Nothing you say will leave this room. I have already pledged to your House, what more can I say?”

“I’d thought you’d have your hands full with the rest of my team. Not all of them are Players.”

“Ya, it is true that I treat them and, ya, it is also true your Gamekeeper takes up a ridiculous amount of time—”

“Marc comes here?”

“Ya, of course. I treat everyone. That is my oath.”

“What the hell does Marc have to be worried about, health wise I mean.”

Bertram’s white eyebrows lifted. “You know I cannot discuss another patient.”

“But I pay your wages.”

Bertram shrugged. While his demeanor said he was letting that comment wash away, his eyes held another story. He meant business.

I supposed he was right. Bertram had given a blood oath to serve my House, but he was still a Player which meant if the Gamekeeper came calling, then he had to stop everything and serve. Either way, he was invested in this. A pang of regret sliced through me as I realized Bertram wasn’t the only Player with a stake in my game. There were many others who had pledged to my House. Many others who would suffer if I prematurely ended my life on this planet and devolved in the next.

I settled on telling Bertram everything. I spoke about my soul parts recently reuniting and the discovery that my body was human, not Nephilim and hence, weaker.

Bertram nodded as I spoke. “You are aware the reason Seraphim interbreed with humans is to make vessels resilient enough to handle the possession of their superior souls?”

“Of course.”

“So then you know that your vessel is dying.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes.

“Cash,” Bertram continued. “You are dying.”

“When you say it like that it sounds so appealing.”

“While your newly gained sarcasm is a refreshing change, it will get you nowhere, Mr. Samson.”

“So, how long do I have?” I could use this, the expiration date. It made my decision easier.

“I do not know enough to be accurate. You used to heal fine, but now with your full powered soul, you do not. I would assume at least the same time it takes for a witch to burn through her host—a few months to a few years, depending on innate resilience. Then again, a witch has only a fraction of the power of a Seraphim soul, so you would perhaps burn out more rapidly. And where have your markings gone? Your body used to be covered with a star-map.”

Bertram took a photograph of the extensive bruising at my chest and then asked a few more questions so he could establish a time frame for my body’s rate of decline. The cut on my palm happened a week ago and had healed—just. They would run tests, assess my injuries in a few days and compare my current telomere regeneration rate to that of old. But combining all of my recent activities and evidence, Bertram guessed my healing was just above the level of a human, and being up against an army of demigods and demon witches that was nothing.

I put my shirt back on.

Bertram prescribed extra strength anti-inflammatories and Arnica for the bruising, then sent me away with strict instructions to rest up until the results were in.

But I couldn’t rest. I was angry. Filthy, rotten angry. I kicked over the pot plant at Nell’s desk on the way back to my office. When I saw the steaming takeaway food on the table with a Post-it note, I went back to replace the plant to its rightful position. With a churning mind I went back to my meal. I read the message written on the yellow note:

* * *

Phone call while you were away.

From: Roo??

Message: Sorry about my bossiness earlier. Are you home for dinner tonight? Should I save food for you?

* * *

I stared at the note for a long time then sat down at my desk and shoveled the curry into my mouth, re-reading the words. It was strange for someone to be waiting for me to come home.

Home.

A foreign word to me.

What did it mean? A place to rest your head, a familiar place where you reside, family to share it with… The meaning had changed so much in my lifetime that in the end, the word became empty. But when I’d read the word knowing she had spoken them, I became restless.

When I was done eating, I walked passed my memorabilia shelf and trailed my finger along the wood. Each item represented a past life of mine.

The first few weeks after I’d started remembering, I thought I was crazy. Then I had a flash of something that felt familiar and followed the clues. I had to know if it was a dream, real, or if I was going insane. I discovered bones in a forest that day, and a bag of personal belongings. Clearly, I was not insane. After that, each time a memory surfaced, and if I could get away from my work, I would investigate and trace the visions back to a buried, sunk, or lost item now found. I touched the rare bottle of wine I’d salvaged from a shipwreck, then the first edition book found in a box buried under a tree, but the item that took my attention was an autographed baseball from my current life. I picked it up and laid down on the office couch. I rested my weary head on the armrest and repetitively threw and caught the ball to stop myself from falling asleep. Too much to figure out. Every time I caught it, I listed a name, or described the face of a person I had failed in some way. I could go back centuries.

At the top of my list was my current mother. I’d brought nothing but pain into her life, killing her husband by accident when I was young, and now taking her youngest son.

I thought of Jed. I was supposed to train him.

The staff and children at the orphanage—they needed me.

The Office. Nell and her gray hair.

James.

Marc.

Roo.

I caught the ball and gripped tight.

Thinking of her made me think of her father—the head of Urser House at the Australian Ludus. He was also a Watcher, the Queen’s brother-in-law, and an evil son-of-a-bitch. I was sure the situation with James was directly linked to him. No matter what I did in my life, I always came back to Urser.

Fucking Urser.

I threw the ball and caught it, then turned over the curved worn surface to inspect the stitching. My knuckles went white with strain.

To follow through with my promise to quit the game, I had to leave Roo in the clutches of that monster. The thought hollowed me out. To make it worse, how was I going to tell her I was dying? She clearly had feelings for me even if she didn’t act on them. And I… what did I feel?

A tightness in my chest answered for me.

Fuck feelings.

This was too hard. I ditched the ball at the wall, heard it drop and thud on the carpet. I turned over on the couch and let a wave of exhaustion roll over me as I faced the reincarnated demons that danced behind my eyelids, trying to decide if the familiarity of it made me feel like home.

Marc

“Sign this, and this, and fill out this one.” A woman with silver pixie hair and oversized glasses slid a pile of forms across the bench to me, pointing at each as she spoke.

I stared at the papers, then back at the lady. “I’m sorry, love, not following.”

She adjusted her round, red glasses, looked up and down my body with disdain, handed a black pen to me and then spoke slowly. “If you”—she waved at me—“want me”—she waved at herself—“to extract mem-or-ies from your arc-hive—”

I raised my hand, cutting her off and lifted a brow with a wink. “Love, you’ve done something with your hair, yeah? You look particularly ravishing today.” That’ll do the trick.

Her lids drooped. “It’s Annie, not love, and we’ve never met.” She turned back to her computer, fingers flying over the keyboard, nails clicking on the keys.

I was shocked. The compliment barrage didn’t work. It always worked. Maybe she was a Player, sometimes my charms were lost on Players. I snorted, checked myself, and patted my body down. Is this thing on? Parts all there. Buff body, there. Magnetic personality: check. Threads: tight. No wait. Where were my clothes?

Whoops. I conjured clothes and righted myself in no time and then tried again. Perhaps I should’ve gone to another Ludus, but I heard this Librarian at the Australian Ludus was the best.

“You do know who I am, right?” I asked.

“Uh-huh.”

“And I don’t have time to fill out forms, I don’t need to… I’m the Gamekeeper!”

Without looking my way, she lifted a red-nailed finger to point at a sign over her head and recited, “No forms, no memories.”

Right-o then. I looked at the paperwork and blew air through my nose. I could work with this. How bad could a form be?

Bloody bollocks and bullshit.

Five minutes later and I still filled out the rubbish. Who in their right mind would waste precious time doing this? After a quick glance at the she-devil, I decided there was nothing for it, and finished the sodding forms as fast as I could, quietly having a laugh at the absurdity of the situation. The last time I had to fill out a form was… I couldn’t even remember. I really needed a session.

When I finished, I cleared my throat, swallowing my pride and impatience. I deserved a medal for this. Really.

Annie peered over the rim of her glasses then picked up the papers, licked her finger and flicked through them. After what seemed like an age, she laid the entire ten page form across the bench horizontally and pointed to a spot on each paper. “You haven’t used block letters. It specifically states you need to use block letters. Do you know what that means?”

“Sod your bloody block letters.” Flames engulfed my hands, roaring and crackling in disdain. It was an accident. I was old enough to forget an entire age, yet, I still had trouble controlling my power under extreme conditions. Like a bleeding teenager. Yep, there went my patience, scurrying under the bench like a little twat. My power crackled as I restrained.

She pursed her lips, paused, and picked out a white square card from a deck on the bench. “Number sixteen. Wait your turn.”

“Wha—?”

I spun on my heel and for the first time noticed the small waiting room with a row of awkward plastic chairs lined against the wall. Empty. The room was sodding empty. I rolled my eyes and stepped forward to take a seat while she made a quiet phone call.

“Number sixteen,” Annie called as she hung up the phone. She ushered me through a door just passed the desk.

Two minutes later, I lay reclined on a dentist’s chair, huffing and puffing. I stared at a poster of childish animals on the ceiling wondering what the hell I’d done to deserve this treatment. Maybe I’d taken a wrong turn somewhere and ended up in crazy town. I had no idea who this woman was.

Where was the bloody Librarian?

“Okay Mr. Gamekeeper, how long are we reaching?”

Oh. Finally. I arched to find the source of the voice but my head was forced back to face the ceiling by Annie’s cool hands as she sat on a stool behind me.

“How far?”

“Way back. Possibly the beginning—wait, are you the Librarian? What happened to old mate Gonzo?”

She whistled and wheeled herself on her seat to check something on a side bench, then wheeled back. “Gonzo hasn’t played the Game in over a hundred years. I’m the apprentice of his apprentice.” She lay her palms on my temples, paused as though meditating, then circled her fingers with light pressure on my skin. “And have you eaten solids today?”

“No—I thought Gonzo was Seraphim, not Nephililm.”

“Don’t know. I can only say he taught my teacher. Drunk only clear liquids?”

“You want specifics?”

“A simple yes or no will suffice.”

“This is confidential, yeah?”

“Of course. I read your application. I know what you’re looking for, but let me tell you, I don’t know what you hope to expect, I’ve had every single Watcher who’s walked the face of the earth come in here asking the same questions. What makes you think you know the answer?”

“Well, for starters, I’m not a bloody Watcher. I have rights. If you can’t flippin’ do it, just say so.” I bit my tongue to stop myself saying any further damaging remarks. A deep breath later and I patted her arm affectionately. I didn’t want my fire to explode again. Injuring her tools of the trade was the last thing I needed. “I also want to know if I remember anything about the first witch Eve. There you go, love. Your turn.”

“If you say so.” Annie put a strip of leather between my teeth. “Take a deep breath”—I inhaled—“and count backwards from ten.”

“10, 9, 8, 7…” Annie plunged her fingers, or something equally incomprehensible because it was excruciating, through the molecules of my head. Pain radiated from that spot and filled my entire being. My back arched, and I bit down hard on the leather strip between my teeth, eyes watering, body seizing. She dug deeper and, oh gods, rifled through my most private thoughts. Like searching for clownfish in anemone. Before I had time to scream, painful images slashed before my eyes. One, two, three. Flashes of light and incorporeal visuals. She repeated my questions in a calm and soothing voice as she delved and guided the barrage of information to follow the beat of her drum. First, a few grounding questions, then for the next five minutes, questions that isolated the era I looked for.

“Travel back to your earliest memories on Earth. Think about the planet and how it looked. Remember the yellow sun and how the rays felt when they first hit your skin in the morning. Remember the dew dancing on the grass when the wind blew, the smell of the air. Remember the birds calling in the blue sky. Now, do you remember a woman called Eve?”

“Yes,” I slurred.

“Tell me about her.”

“Tall, dark skinned—like the color of the pine tree bark. Sephie introduced us on my second trip to this planet.”

Annie stifled a gasp. Vaguely through a haze, I realized I’d used my private nickname for the Queen. Very bad.

“It was before I took her back to the Empire.”

“Before you took the Queen back, or Eve?”

“The Queen.”

“She traveled with you through the in-between?"

“Yes, of course. She’s the bleedin’ Queen.” My words spat out, difficult in my state, but tempestuous to the last drop. “Anyone a few millennia old would remember that. How old are you anyway?”

“Players don’t remember anything of their Seraphim life, hence I can’t remember.”

“Oh yeah. Anyway, keep to the questions I outlined.”

An audible sigh escaped her lips. “Anything else about Eve?”

“She was human. One of the first experiments. Made in our image, you know.”

“Why did the Queen introduce you?”

Pain sliced through my temples as she reached.

“I… something about being a messenger… no… thought I had something there, but… no.”

“It’s okay. Don’t struggle. What about the Queen’s enforcer?”

“What about him?”

“Do you remember him from that time?”

“Of course—who wouldn’t? He’s got an ego the size of a planet, and he’s a bit hard to miss with his ‘I’m the Queen’s favorite pet’ attitude. The day he disappeared was the best day of my life.” Somewhere inside, far away, I was surprised at my reaction but the words kept pouring out. “He ruined everything with his macho brilliance—saving the world and all that. She took his disappearance harder than I expected.” I sighed at the memory.

“Did you make him disappear?”

“I’m offended that you asked.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

A memory rose to the forefront of my mind, sharp and in full focus.

* * *

I saw the earth as it was all those years ago, fresh, young and innocent. I was in the turquoise shallows of a beach, and Sephie splashed around next to me, wearing a basic cotton dress, catching fish with her bare hands, like the commoners she’d created.

“Sephie, we don’t have time for this,” I started, jumping back when a slippery fish brushed my leg.

Some villagers weaved baskets on the shore, others used the baskets to catch fish, but the adventurous villagers were using their hands, like Sephie. They let the slippery, slimy scales slide through their fingers, feeling the life pump in the flimsy bodies before removing them from their home.

“There’s always time to explore new things, Marc.” She giggled as she let a fish slip through her hands.

“Your Empire needs you. We’ve been here for too long.”

She stood straight, hair gleaming so brightly in the sun it looked white. “These people need me more. This is our new home.”

I was shocked. “What do you mean, new home? You have responsibilities back at our real home.” But she shook her head and turned back to the ocean. The waves lifted the edges of her dress until the fabric floated around her legs. I tapped her on the shoulder. “We fought tooth and nail to unite the territories—we wanted to be better than our brutal predecessors, and we did it. We made peace. Now you’re telling me you’re giving that all away? You’re running away?”

She sighed heavily and trailed her fingers in the water. “I’m tired of the politics. After the King died, I thought I’d be happy. He was a brute and a tyrant, just like the world he’d come from, but escaping him wasn’t enough. The peace we forged wasn’t enough. War still kindles, waiting for the right spark to send it soaring. That’s why I created this place. So we can start fresh. Away from all that. And those that can’t physically make it here, can get a taste of real peace and freedom without leaving their home.”

“So you created a galactic resort.” I rolled my eyes with disdain.

A burst of cheering and laughter from a group of half-naked villagers nearby brought our attention back. One of the men lifted an extraordinarily large fish over his head and they all cheered for him.

“See how carefree they are? You have to promise me, to protect these people, no matter what. They’re too weak and innocent to protect themselves.”

When she looked at me with those eyes, everything inside me broke. “Sephie, you know I’ll do anything for you.”

“Eggie, it’s not for me. It’s for them. I want you to love them as much as I do.”

My heart swelled like the ocean we stood in. No matter what she said, though, I’d always do it for her.

* * *

“… Ah… ugkh.” My pain level sky-rocketed. “Fucking, sodding, fuck.” I thrashed about, making Annie’s job hard.

“Marc. Relax… just relax.”

“Can’t—”

“Let’s try something different. Do you remember his true name?”

“Gyuak!”

“Gyuak’s his name?”

I shook my head and moaned, gurgled, leather strap discarded. The room chilled, and the lights flickered. It was so brief I could have convinced myself I imagined things if it wasn’t for the fact that I’d felt the same slippery presence when I was with Jacine earlier.

“The ingredient? What did he remove?” Annie brought my attention back to the now and shoved her fingers mercilessly through my mind, dislodging forgotten memories, forcing a response.

“Gr—argh—enforcer did it!”

“And where is the enforcer now?”

Even in my state of duress, my internal alarm system went off. I hadn’t asked Annie to enquire about that. The questions about the hunter’s current whereabouts were unwarranted. Yes, I wanted to know more about the time the enforcer was alive in true form on the planet, but not his location today. As far as the Empire knew, the enforcer was dead. I yanked Annie’s fingers out of my temples and flopped back to the seat, sweating and panting. “Bugger. I never want to do that again.” I feigned exhaustion. No use letting on that I was on to her and her wily ways. “I’m absolutely knackered, love. Let’s finish on that note.”

“But…” Annie’s voice trailed off as she pulled off her glasses and wiped the steamed lens. “Fine. If that’s what you want. It all sounds like hogwash, if you ask me, but I’ll write it up, anyway.”

“Yes, well, nobody asked your opinion did they?”

I sat up, caught my breath and had the urge to vomit. Just like the time I ate that under-cooked hot-pocket. Ugh! I worked my mouth, trying to forget the taste of pineapple and sour onions.

“Well, I’ll leave you to gather yourself,” Annie said. “I’ll go and type up the transcript. You can come out when you’re ready to make the payment.”

Payment? “I’ve never had to pay for it in my life!”

“Yes, that was a first for me too.”

I placed my palm on my head. I kept seeing images, visual aftershocks, but was damned if I would stay vulnerable around someone I didn’t trust. Besides, a chill hung in the air and my instincts told me to leave.

Before Annie could say anything else, I transported myself to the first person I thought of.

Cash

I roared awake, pouncing out of my bed, lungs burning, heart thumping.

It took me a moment to gather my wits and focus on my surroundings.

It was dark.

That much I knew.

I had a cold metal object in my hand—a knife—ready to slice, stab or maim. Tremors shook my body in anticipatory need. I was ready to hunt, to hurt.

But.

Why was I awake?

Danger.

Surrounding me.

And I could smell food, slightly pungent and sour.

So, that was odd.

I lowered my knife upon the realization I was at my office. I’d fallen asleep on my couch. There was no danger. Just a dream.

A memory.

In the darkness, an onslaught of visions from my past had overwhelmed me. This time, it was different. It wasn’t a human life I watched, but alien. A god’s life.

My life.

It came back to me in pieces. I’d been patrolling the primitive settlements the humans had created amongst themselves on their fair Earth, but as far as I was concerned, the ground was dirt, the air was dirt. The sun glared in my eyes and caused sweat to prickle the back of my neck. I yearned to return to the Empire, to civilization. Desperate to leave the filth behind, but I would wait until my job here was done, until the Queen said it was done.

I had no idea why she cared so much about these inferior beings.

“Oh, but they’re not inferior, you see,” she’d said as she strolled alongside me, making a mad scribble in her coveted book before snapping it shut and taking my rough hand in her soft one. It was a brazen display of affection, especially so soon after her husband’s untimely demise, but out here on the petri dish of another planet, she didn’t care. “In fact, they’re so pure, so innocent and untainted by evil that they’re perfect.”

“Perfect animals,” I’d joked.

She laughed with a frown on her face—happy yet torn. It was the most magical sound I’d ever heard. Her voice trickled into my soul like the desert rain. I was thirsty for more and ashamed that I caused such conflict in her eyes.

“You jest, I know,” she said. “But my love, I can’t help think something is troubling you. Some truth behind the lie.”

I grumbled acquiescence.

“You worry,” she added, her frown growing deeper, or, perhaps it was her smile falling that made it seem so.

I worried for so many things, her safety the chief among them. Her enemies were ripe on this planet. She’d invited the emissaries from her most disapproving territories as a sign of strength, but I saw it as an opening for disaster.

She waited for me to respond with patient eyes.

“Yes,” I said. “Damn straight I worry. This entire project of yours is a plague waiting to unleash. A political disaster.”

“Impossible. I have taken every precaution. Only the best minds from around the Empire have permission to work here. We’ve taken only the best the Universe has to offer. The emissaries are also happy. Soon we will share this wonder with everyone. Just imagine, having a place where there is no disease, famine, or war. A sample of the best each planet has to offer, right here, together in harmony. Flora, fauna, and peaceful inhabitants that can serve as a conduit so we need never leave the comfort of our own planets. A place where no matter who you are, you are welcome to learn about the wonders of the creation. A living library! The universe can only be pleased we are promoting life and taking education and evolution into our own hands.”

“I see what you are trying to do, but attempting to predict what the universe wants is a fool’s errand. I’m telling you, there’s trouble brewing.”

It was at this point she stopped and placed a gentle palm on my cheek to make me face her. The sun blinded me and all I could see of her was a golden sunburst where her face should be.

“My dear, sweet hunter. It is in your nature to question. It is why you are so good at what you do and I love that about you. But how can creating a world without evil be wrong? Just look at this, the life responds to us by being here. Look at it grow when I touch it.” She ran her fingers over the leaves of a bushy plant. Instantly, tiny white flowers bloomed from within. A heady fragrance entered the air, and she breathed in deeply.

I thought it smelled pungent.

Seeing my distaste, she leant in. “And when we say each other’s names, we’re rewarded with pleasure.” She whispered my name and a wave of electricity shot up my spine, making me gasp for air and tug her close. I buried my head into her neck while the sensations rode out.

“Tease,” I grumbled into her.

She kissed my cheek and smiled against my skin before pulling back and pointing to the new humans. “What about them?” She angled my head to view the villagers going about their day. “They have no idea of their true purpose, and they never will. They’ll never have to feel pain or sadness. Look how happy they are.”

“And so they should be happy. You’ve given them only the best D.N.A. we have to offer. Not even us elite have the potential they’re born with.”

“This is where you’re wrong. I haven’t given them the best. I’ve taken out the bad. There is a difference.” She waved her book at my face.

Always with her head in that damned book, recording everything she and her scientists discovered. She paid it more attention than me, or her son.

“Not according to some,” I reminded her, thinking of that recalcitrant boy.

“And what do you believe, my sweet hunter?”

“I believe the evil you removed has to go somewhere. You extracted it, upset the balance of this world and now where will it go? You created these bodies for us to use and discard, and that feels out of balance. There will be a price.”

“We aren’t discarding them. We borrow them. Any possession longer than a few weeks will harm the host so we have strict limits set in place.”

“That’s exactly my point. I know you’re desperate to prove to the world you’re worth more than the old King, but it’s not worth it.”

She pursed her lips. “And if that doesn’t work, then we’re working on a hybrid of us and them. We’re from the same D.N.A. stock, so the blend would be seamless. The darkness we’ve extracted will do nothing if returned to them but give them back their bad tendencies. It would have to be—” She paused, trying to think of the right word. “It would have to be converted beyond recognition and I’ve gone to great pains to ensure we have no alchemist on this planet. I’ve thought this all through. Why are you resisting?”

“Because it’s my job as your military advisor to call you out.”

“And what of your job as my consort?”

My face heated, and I growled, reaching for her. “Do you really want a demonstration? Because I’d be happy to show you.”

She swatted me playfully. “I’m serious.”

“So am I. Don’t you see the potential for darkness in what you’re creating?”

“Of course a soldier would believe that. You need to stop thinking in black and white and start in color. I didn’t get to be where I am today without taking risks. I can assure you, the darkness is not a problem.”

“So you keep saying, but…” I turned from her. We had walked out of the village and into the surrounding garden. It was peaceful, ambient and, now and then, a villager wandered through collecting fruit or some other edible treat from the surrounding wildlife. It was too perfect; A reflection in the water waiting for a pebble to ripple its illusion. “There is something not right. I feel it in my bones.”

She sighed. When she turned away, she took the light with her.

My body turned cold in her shadow.

“What does your son think?” I asked, hesitant.

“Alkiemon believes—”

“You said his true name,” I said through my teeth.

“Rubbish. It matters not if he hears I am speaking about him. As to your question, my son believes there is worth in the darkness. I admit, he hasn’t been thinking straight since his father died. He will come around. That is why I’ve insisted he stay here to live among the gifted, to protect them and to learn from them. A peaceful respite with purpose will do him good.”

“It’s not rubbish. He will know we are talking about him. He will know where we are.”

She linked her arm with mine and guided me back to the village. “Let him come. He cannot change my mind. Besides, we will soon be busy. Egnatius will be here shortly and with him, the Urser emissary. Please endeavor to be civil, it is important we focus on the task at hand. I know how you two are with each other.”

The Urser Constellation was the original home to the late King and they were still seething about his untimely death. I didn’t want to argue. I smiled briefly at her, letting her know I was joking. “And how’s that?”

There was that laugh again, mirth infused with warmth, only for a brief moment. She patted my arm affectionately. The second her skin touched my own, fire ignited beneath the surface and blazed a trail of heat to my belly, making me hard with want. No, not want, I needed her. Now. It had been too long since I’d felt the sweet touch of her lips on mine, the softness of her body under mine. I knew I said I’d never show dissent in public, but I was ready to throw her on the ground and demonstrate how civil I could be. Quickly, I pulled her behind the shelter of a bushy plant and kissed her again—hard and passionately so she knew exactly what I thought. She melted into me and opened herself to deepen the kiss.

When I pulled away, she exhaled. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of understanding in her eyes, then she straightened herself and clutched the book to her chest. Just a few more hours and we’d be back in our private quarters. I could last a few more hours.

As we walked back within range of the village, the screaming started.

My worst fear realized. Some humans had turned foul with a torrent of poisoned shadow rippling over their bodies. Innocents dropped like flies. They’d changed, darkened, rising from the grave, becoming beasts that devoured their own kind. Friends turning on friends, brothers against sisters, mother against child. No longer the precious gift of life she had envisioned, but somehow contaminated by the very thing removed to keep them safe. I was sure of it. The darkness oozed from their pores like overripe fruit turning sour.

The rabid humans weren’t only attacking the innocent, they also pulled apart the primitive buildings, destroying everything in their paths. Destruction in its purest form. Chaos. Original sin incarnate.

I remembered having a pistol in my hand and using my body to shield the Queen, but she had commanded me to investigate. She could take care of herself, she’d said. Reluctantly, I abided and called the Queen’s Guard to attend, but when I’d gotten close to the mess, I discovered a stench emanating off the creatures in waves, infecting the air with a sour miasma that wilted the leaves in the garden and staining the atmosphere in shades of gray. A heavy wall of smoke and haze settled over the village and the surrounding wildlife, and through it all, the carnage continued. How did this happen?

As if in answer to my question, Alkiemon, the Prince of life as far as the eye could see, made himself known. The billowing smoke parted like a living entity, to make way for him as he casually walked through the chaos. His demonic half-smile stretched wide on his handsome face the instant he made eye contact. Holding my gaze, he raised his hands and clicked his fingers. The humanoid beasts stopped, blinked, and focused on him, their new master. Black rivulets ran down his wrists to drip off his elbows and onto the ground, leaving dark mucous-like puddles.

“What have you done?” the Queen howled at her son as she joined me, unable to stay away any longer.

His wretched laugh rose over the discord. “You wanted me to learn from them, mother, and learn I did. I’ve become very familiar with them, in fact.” He clicked his fingers again, and the beasts came tittering over, dragging and sliding as though being pulled on puppet strings. “For instance, did you know when the pure extracted darkness was combined with my blood and then returned to them, I gained control over their simple minds? Blood magic. You two should be familiar with that, right? Being soulmates and all that.”

He flicked his wrists, and the beasts shuffled towards the Queen and I.

“Did you know I can command their souls to leave their bodies? I can also force them to stay.”

“NO!” she screamed. Her hands rose in a show of force, crackling, ready to send her power into her child. “I won’t let you do this. It’s not too late. Repent and let me fix them.”

“It is too late, mother. It is already done. There’s no going back.”

If there was any warmth left in the air, it fled in that moment. Too many things happened at once. The horde of beasts converged on us, I tried to protect her, but the Queen struggled. Her guards formed a shield in front of her but she tried to break through. She wanted to save her creations without harming her son. It made her weak. Tainted. Impaired. Egnatius appeared out of nowhere, and joined the fight, but it was futile. There were only a few of us against hundreds. Her son had turned her creations against her.

I knew in my heart that this planet was a lost cause. Damage control was at the forefront of my mind. I had to take precautions immediately. There was nothing left to do but evacuate and quarantine.

With only two people granted the power to activate the star-gate, if I removed myself, then the Queen was the only key. Her son knew that. This was his big play.

Well, fuck him. I knew exactly how to ruin his day.

Remove myself. Remove the Queen. Remove their freedom.

After sending her into Egnatius’s arms, I ordered him to return to the Empire so he could set up the quarantine. Unable to travel through time and space with them, I had to remain here.

A rabid creature rushed up to the Queen, and she broke away from Egnatius to go to it. “Let me fix it,” she cried. I don’t know how she thought she would do that, but it went for her throat, ripping with its new claws. She screamed and stepped back, hands flying to her wound. I pulled my pistol from my holster and shot the creature between the eyes as it lunged for her again. It dropped at her feet, twitching.

Then with horror finally dawning in her eyes, she mumbled to herself, “What have I done?”

“It’s no use, they’re beyond hope,” I said, shooting another.

She turned to me, all warmth fled from her face. “I should’ve listened to you. I’m so sorry, I should’ve listened. Unleash yourself. Wipe this place clean.”

“You can’t be serious? I won’t do that.”

“It’s an order. Wash the earth clean and then return home.”

The last thing I remembered from my dream was a searing flame coming from my insides. It was the heat engulfing me in icy hot waves as I set my power free, and it was the fading sound of the Queen’s voice as she screamed, Kill them all, repeatedly as Egnatius took her away.

And then, in a white rain of fire, I’d woken up.

I could still smell the acrid scent in my nose. I scrubbed my face and tried to shake the memory, but the darkness in my office was the perfect cinematic background for the visions to replay.

I walked over to the wall and flicked the light switch on. The room illuminated, casting an ambient glow that hit each object with a slight halo visible through my sleep deprived eyes. I groaned and lurched back to the couch where I fell with a heavy thud that echoed the dull ache in my head.

Thank fuck I hadn’t been near Roo this time. That knife in my hand would have no doubt ended in her guts, slicing her through and through.

Marc

Surprisingly, when I found myself in a ladies change room, I almost did a one-eighty and left, but the sight of a scantily clad Little Red bending over, convinced me otherwise. The vision of her taut rear covered in lacy purple knickers aimed precisely in the direction of my crotch almost entangled my atoms. Bugger me. I could reach out and touch her. But I didn’t.

She picked up an item of discarded clothing, straightened and held it in front of herself, admiring her reflection.

Just as I caught her gaze in the mirror, I said, “I’d say I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m not really.”

She squealed, turned around and shoved me into the wall with burning hot fingers. It tingled. The entire makeshift room swayed and steam heated the air.

“You okay in there, miss?” A disembodied voice came from the other side.

Roo’s eyes opened to big white ovals, and she shook her fists at me before covering herself with a jacket. “Yes, I’m fine, sorry I just slipped over.” Then she lowered her voice and gave me daggers. “Ever heard of knocking?”

“Now, where’s the fun in that?”

“I have rights, you know. It’s polite to knock.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’m quite open to you seeing me naked. Evens the playing field if you know what I mean.”

“What are you doing here, Marc?” she hissed. “Besides being a pervert.”

“I’m offended. I was only having fun, you know I’d never really try anything. Sometimes I can’t help where I end up.”

“Well, you should try to have some manners, or at least pretend to have a little humility.”

“Maybe.” I shrugged and rubbed my tickling ribs—an after effect of her electrifying touch. I wondered how that sensation would feel elsewhere on my body. And then if she said my name.

No. Naughty Marc. Don’t think of her like that. She’s off limits.

I did feel bad for making her feel bad.

“I apologize, love. I really do. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. But, you see, I’m in a bit of a pickle. Thought I might cash in on that favor you owe me.”

“What, now?”

“I’m happy to wait. Take as long as you need.” I perched myself on the change room bench. “I love a good show just as much as the next guy, and I always have time for one. What have you got there, a new dress?” I picked up a dark green slinky item. “Ooh, I like this one. Bit of a school-girl-gone-sexy-secretary vibe. But with your red hair, you might look like a Christmas tree. And this one, this is—”

Roo snatched the items from my hands. “It’s none of your business, that’s what it is. Oh, for the love of—” She turned her back on me, mumbled obscenities and redressed into her jeans and black boring shirt. The jeans had small holes in the hips and I couldn’t help poking my finger through as she took a seat next to me. She swatted me and gave me the teacher look. “Marc. I think we’ve had this talk already. When I said I owed you a favor for rescuing me from that pit of hell last week, I didn’t mean a favor of the explicit nature.”

I lifted my hands in mock surrender. “Oh, I’m here on business, I swear!”

She gave me a sideways glare then hastily dumped a pile of clothing in my lap. “You know I find your nudity uncomfortable. Especially when it’s like”—she waved at my crotch—“you know.”

I wiggled my eyebrows. “Well endowed, you mean? Virile, perhaps?”

“Yes, Marc. Yes. That’s exactly what I meant.” Sarcasm dripped from her tongue.

“For the last time, love, I can’t help it. You’re extremely beautiful and invigorating, as to the rest, it’s a side effect—no inorganic matter through the dimensions, yeah?”

She laughed through her nose. “Yeah-yeah. What can I help you with?”

I shuffled a smidgen toward her. I couldn’t vocalize why, but I wanted—needed—to be closer to her. Like a magnet. She smelled amazing. Fruity and wild. Like a balmy summer night. One of those tropical gardens came to mind. Her aura electrified me and I wanted to run my hands all over her body, followed in short succession with my lips. Mmm. Balmy hot, summer nights. Cocktails.

“Marc.” She snapped her fingers.

“Right.” I blinked. I could’ve sworn I heard coconuts and steel drums playing. “I’ve been needing to talk to someone about some issues I’ve been having. So of course, immediately I thought, ooh, I know someone who’s got the perfect skills to evaluate and study my thought process. Someone to council me on a beneficial outcome.”

She frowned. “You went to speak to a therapist?”

“Don’t be daft. You’re a bartender. You’re perfect.”

“Oh.”

“But we can’t talk like this. Come with me.”

I enveloped her in my embrace and stepped through the in-between. When we landed at our destination, she punched me in the gut. Hard.

That really hurt this time. I coughed.

“What was that for?” I moaned, still clutching my midsection, frowning.

“You bastard.”

She dashed behind the bar of the shady, empty nightclub so fast that all I managed to see was a flash of pink naked skin. Pity.

“You can’t just kidnap me.” Her voice traveled over the bar and echoed loudly in the vast room.

“Of course I can. I just did.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Well, love, you see it’s like this.” I made sure somber tones played across my face. “You’re the only one I can do this with.”

“Kidnap through the dimensions?”

“No. Well yes, but we’ve discussed that. I meant, have a heart-to-heart with.”

Roo was silent for a while, then she said, “Oh.”

“You can see my aura, you can tell what I feel is true. And I can see yours. We can’t lie to each other.”

“Oh,” she said with more gumption this time.

A few more seconds went by and then she lifted her head over the horizon of the bar. “I’m naked.”

“And? I’m naked too. Nothing to be ashamed of. We’re both specimens of perfection.” I snorted and checked myself in the mirror on the wall behind the bar. Yes. Perfect. Absolutely and without a doubt. I had a few different forms I could arrange my atoms into, but this older suave version was the best. What wasn’t to like? I smoothed my blonde hair to the side. “No need to be a prude.”

She sighed heavily. “I’m not a prude. It’s just that Cash doesn’t like you running about naked when I’m around. I doubt it he’ll want me running around you naked.”

“Ri-ight. Got it. We don’t want to piss off the hunter now do we?” My eyes surveyed the empty nightclub briefly then caught on something. I waltzed over and retrieved the apron then threw it over the bar. “Not to worry. There you go, love. Your dignity remains intact.”

Roo slipped the apron over her head so it sat around her neck and then stood as she tied the strings around her waist. The hem came to just above her knees.

“Now, someday, when we have time, I must find out how it is you can join me on my travels. It is rather odd and I do love a good mystery.” My thoughts traveled back to when Jacine had urged me to bump the nasties so we could have a baby, and a shiver ran through me. If she found out about Little Red, there’s no telling what lengths she’ll go to capture her. Roo could be in danger.

“Okay, so I’m flattered that you want to spill your guts to me, but I’m on a schedule. So out with it.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Something’s not right.”

“Your attitude?”

“You’re funny, Little Red, but no. That’s not it.” I waved at the bottles lining the wall behind her and then perched on a stool. “You’re a bartender. Pour me a drink.”

Her brows winged over her perfect brown eyes. But she acquiesced and turned on an angle to view the selection behind her, nearly exposing the naked curve of her rear end. I tilted slightly to the right to try to get a better view.

“What do you want to drink?” she asked tapping her chin.

“Tequila.”

“Which one? There’s so many?”

“That one up the top. Yep. Top shelf. No, actually, bottom. The one on the very nice bottom,” I said absently.

“This one?” A bottle flew off the shelf as though an invisible hand moved it and landed on the bench in front of me, rolling gently on the wooden surface.

When I looked up, she glared at me with a triumphant smirk.

“You need to get some new material, Marc. That’s one of the oldest tricks in the book.” She snorted. “As if I’m going to bend down.”

“Yes, well, not everyone is telekinetic like you.” I simpered for a second while she poured a shot of Tequila.

“Come on, out with it. I haven’t seen this level of sexual harassment since we first met. You can normally hold it in. Something must be on your mind.”

“Spoil sport,” I added before I slammed the liquid down my throat. “Ahh, that’s better. Liquid courage. Aren’t you going to have one?”

“What’s the point? Alcohol burns through us too quickly.”

“You still get a teensy-tiny buzz, especially if we drink the entire bottle. Go on. Admit it. You know you want some.”

She smiled tightly and then poured herself a shot, slammed it down and then licked her lips. “Okay, now really, out with it. If we don’t get back soon, Jed’s going to go postal.”

“Don’t worry, he thinks you’re in the change-room and we all know how long women take in those things.”

“Marc,” she warned.

“All right.” I sighed dramatically. “I ate this hot-pocket earlier and I think it’s repeating.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Fine. I visited the Librarian to get information about our mate the hunter, and she treated me like a second rate nobody. I mean, me, can you believe it?” I was stalling, avoiding my real purpose for being here, but what I said was true. Ever since the Librarian, I’d felt a bit useless. “I haven’t cared about what anyone thought for a long time, but she unnerved me.”

“And what did you do there, check out books?”

“Don’t be daft. The Librarian checks your memories out.”

“Oh, wow. Okay. How does that work?”

I explained the process.

“So, maybe you discovered something that bothered you, maybe it wasn’t the Librarian, but what she found?”

I thought back to my newly emerged memories. I didn’t think they were anything special. There were no secrets revealed, no great eureka moment. All in all, it had been a rather disappointing experience. So why did I feel so down about it?

“Do you want to talk about it?” Falling into old bartending habits, Roo wiped the bench down.

“No.”

But then it hit me. I’d promised Sephie to protect her creations—the Simons. I’d spent the last few millennia doing so while she’d kept herself sequestered and unmoving back at the Empire. This was now my planet. My responsibility. And something dark was coming. Something dark was already here. I could feel it.

It was more than that. I missed her. My friend.

“I miss her,” I confessed.

“Who?”

“Sephie—the Queen.”

“That must be tough.”

“You have no idea. We grew up together. We overcame our oppressed parents together. We discovered cheese together. I chased her through fields to catch her pig-tails. Where she went, I went. And then… nothing. It’s like our friendship wasn’t enough to bring her back. All she cared about was the bloody hunter, and then when it finally seems as though she’d forgotten him, this happens.”

“He turns up.”

“And I’m afraid what it means when I go back to tell her.”

She was silent, her aura flickered with sadness. I knew it wasn’t for me. She, too had feelings for the bloody hunter.

“You’re afraid that despite all the work you’ve been doing for her, you will go unnoticed,” she said.

“Maybe.”

“Marc, you’re amazing. You don’t need anyone’s validation for that. The least of all, some queen who doesn’t even know your true worth. Behind that womanizing exterior, there’s a heart of gold.” Roo reached over and squeezed my hand. Her simple touch was all I needed to shake out of my stupor. But then she said, “I see you,” and I think I fell in love.

We stared at each other, eye to eye, for what seemed like an eternity.

I blurted, “I think I’m being followed, and it’s… it’s… never happened before.”

“Okay.” She pulled back. “What can I do to help?”

“Well, nothing, actually.”

“Pardon?”

I shrugged. “I just wanted to see if I traveled across the world, that the feeling would follow. It’s like I’m in one of those television thingies being watched by people I can’t see. Perhaps you’ll feel it too, and I’ll know I’m not going barmy.” I paused. “I don’t know why I’m telling all this to you. It’s not like I need help. Are you sure you’ve told no one about you being able to travel through the in-between with me?"

“Yeah, I mean I’ve only told Cash. I don’t even think Jed knows, but he’s on our side.”

“Who’s Jed?”

“Oh my stars, you are slow today. My ex-probation officer. He thinks he owes Cash a debt for killing Tommy, even though he was bewitched at the time, and even though Cash is now Tommy, so if you think about it, he’s gone but he’s not gone? So, anyway, he’s pledged to Cash’s service. He’s right outside the change-room if you want us to go back and get him.”

“No. Don’t tell him I’ve been here.” Although, someone had been leaking information about Cash being the lost enforcer to the enemy. If it had filtered down to Jacine that the boy was special, then it’s possible they had a mole in their camp. “Have you told Jed about our mate’s secret identity?”

“You make it sound like he’s a superhero—well, I suppose he kind of is.” Roo caught herself in a snort. “No, I haven’t told anyone.”

“But this Jed bloke, he lives with you, yeah? Is it possible he’s overheard you two talking? I mean, what’s his special ability, does he have super hearing like your mate, the hunter?”

“Marc.” Roo threw her hands in the air, exasperated. “Stop it. Jed’s with us. He’s one of the good guys. I don’t even think he has any ability, he said he’s pretty low grade for a Player, he’s only got a small star map, besides, there’s no way—”

“Shh.” I held up his hand, cutting her off. I felt the slippery chill again. “It’s here.” I flared my eyes at her. “I’ve got an idea. Let’s play a game. Let’s pretend that I turned up here with some information about… oh, I don’t know… The Heart Scarab. Tell your mate, Jed, that I’ve found the device that can hide the darkness of one’s soul, and that we need your Book of the Dead knowledge to unlock it. We’ll see if the information get’s back to the enemy. Then we’ll know who the mole is. Bonus points if you add something contrived like turtles, or coconuts. You should tell the hunter to keep a look out, too.”

“Okay, sure, but maybe it’s better coming from you. Cash hasn’t been home all week. Unlike you, he’s avoiding me, I think it’s because I disobeyed orders but I’ve been trying hard and I’m a little worried. Then again, maybe it’s the whole Soul-Eater thing—what?” Roo asked when she caught the look of sheer amazement on my face. “Do I have something in my teeth?”

I pulled a cardboard coaster across the table to me and created a pen out of thin air. I wrote my name on the cardboard, then slid it over to her.

“Eg—”

“Don’t say it!” I held my hand up.

“What is it?” Her adorable brows furrowed.

“It’s my true name. Memorize it.”

“Okay.” She made an over the top point to inspect the coaster. Seeing her lips form the shape of my name made everything inside me go tight.

“Got it?” I asked.

She nodded.

I sent my power into the paper to ignite it in her hands. She squealed and dropped it.

“Only a handful of people know that name, love. Speak it if you have a dire need of me. If I’m on this earthly plane, I’ll know. I’ll come.”

A flush rushed her cheeks. “Marc, I’m honored.”

“You should be.”

She laughed.

I couldn’t help but join her. “Love, you know I’ll always be there if you need me. I won’t ignore you.”

Her eyes seemed to glisten. But then—

“Do you feel that?” I asked. The air electrified in the confined space and the lights flickered.

Roo gave me shifty eyes and whispered. “Yeah. You’re right. It’s like we’re standing too close to the TV—like a two way TV!”

“I knew I liked you for a reason. Cheerio, love.”

Cash

Over the next week, I had managed to avoid returning to my loft by taking two more hunting jobs and translating the glyphs on the back of the scarab which had returned from the lab useless. The glyphs were close enough to a spell from the Book of the Dead. Not the real one of course. I’d texted a picture of the script to Roo and asked if it sounded familiar—she said no, which meant the scarab was a human knock-off. Close but no cigar.

When Roo enquired to my whereabouts, I blamed James’ condition for not being able to return home. It was half true. I stood vigil at his bed nightly, and the boy wouldn’t wake up. There wasn’t much I knew to do but show up because, I figured, when you had no one, then having anyone there was good.

I shifted in the seat at my desk and squinted at the beetle brooch in my hand. The team I sent back to the site turned up nothing. The man I’d left tied up had woken at some point and found a way to end his life. So all I had to go on was the scarab. Probably a red herring and worthless.

The results had come back from Bertram; my healing was on par with a human. At this rate, with my hungry paranormal abilities, I’d be dead within the next twelve months.

Some part of me welcomed that idea. I was tired. Beyond tired. I felt like I’d been fighting my entire life. The memories had been slowly seeping in, saturating my mind.

This bullshit drove me mad—constantly having to decipher the meaning of ridiculous and outlandish things for a shred of direction. At the start, finding my way through the Game had been incredibly vexing without an aligned House to guide me. I hadn’t grown up being taught the rules, and I’d spent a short few years under the tutelage of a mentor, and that was Urser. As soon as I’d discovered his House’s blatant disregard for life, I’d separated myself from him, but it left me lonely, confused and weak. Just like Roo was. And now, I was leaving her to the same fate I suffered. Anger brewed inside until I ditched the amulet against the wall. It hit with a thud and broke into pieces. A vial full of black liquid rolled back along the carpet and hit my toe.

I picked it up and twisted it in my fingers, inspecting the object. Possibly the substance James injected. Enveloping the tiny evidence in my hand, I resolved to take it to the lab myself and get it tested. There simply must be answers swimming in its viscous liquid.

In my haste out the office, I almost ran into a flustered looking Nell as I opened the door.

“Is it James?” I asked.

“Actually… it… uh.”

“Spit it out.”

She jumped, eyes widening. I softened my expression and tried again.

“What is it, Nell?”

“The phone.” She ran back to her desk and picked up the receiver to hand to me.

With a frown crunching my brow, I accepted the handset. “Yes?”

A hell of a racket blared at me.

“Cash?” came a crackly voice.

“Roo?”

I couldn’t quite make out what she said between the interference and more loud crackling.

“What the fuck is happening?” I shouted redundantly because the line went dead. “Roo?”

I stared at the handset as though it would come alive and start explaining, but it remained silent.

“Did you hear anything?” Nell asked, with a tightness to her words.

“No, it went dead. Do you know what that was about?”

“Ah.” She avoided eye contact as though she had something to hide, and her heart beat faster than its usual pace.

“You can’t lie to me,” I stated.

“I’m sure it sounded like she was under attack. There was a definite hostile feel to that call.”

My chest constricted. “Shit.”

I handed Nell the sample. “Send this up to the lab, expedite the results and have them call me as soon as they get in.”

I made a dash for the elevator, forgetting my car keys, then doubled back. I shoved anything relevant into my arms, and bolted to the exit. Fuck! I’d only been gone for a few days and if she’d gotten herself into a mess…

I halted inside the elevator as the doors whooshed closed. My breath came fast and my pulse boomed in my ears. A cold sweat tickled down my neck to my spine at the thought of what could be happening to her right now. Who was attacking? Where? My house?

Shit. I tried calling her mobile phone. No answer. I pumped the basement garage button and then sent a message to my tech team to trace Roo’s phone. She could be anywhere.

* * *

As I closed the door to my car, I heard an ear piercing scream come from my loft.

Roo.

I bolted to the portico, waved my electronic key card and entered the complex through the wrought iron gate. My heart pumped in my throat as I rounded the building corner and neared my apartment door. When I arrived, I stopped in my tracks, nostrils flaring, lungs heaving.

What the—?

I placed an ear against the cold wooden entrance door. I could hear a woman panting and moaning. I heard flesh pounding against flesh. It sounded almost…

A female gave a long, drawn out moan.

That wasn’t from pain, that was from pleasure.

I sniffed at the door, unable to comprehend what happened beyond the door. Mingled sweat. Moaning.

Sexual?

Not a conflict of some sort. No enemy.

My heart thumped in my chest. I’d expected to find a massacre, a disaster or at least something I could fight with my fists. But this.

What was this?

I dropped my forehead to the door and clutched my chest, rubbing the fabric near my heart. This ache I had inside was wrong. It shouldn’t be like this. I closed my eyes and had flashes of indecent suggestion of what happened behind the doors. It pulled pure animosity to the forefront of my emotions. I was too late. I’d taken her for granted and now she was with someone else. All at once, I thought of how it felt when Roo hugged me the morning I woke from my nightmare. The day I’d almost killed her by crushing her throat. She’d felt so right. She’d come to me, comforted me, accepted me. That felt right.

This—more suspect sounds filtered through the door—this was wrong.

Without thinking any further, I slapped a hard palm on the door. It burst open, busting the locks from my unnatural strength. I strode into the living area, napalm coursing through my veins, but when I stepped into the open plan area opposite the in-house gymnasium, I went cold.

Roo lay on the floor fully clothed in fitness attire. Jed massaged her bare shoulder. PG not X-rated. It wasn’t what I expected. The ache in my chest eased a little, but still… Jed’s hands slid over her skin, kneading, rubbing.

Touching.

Her.

Jed glanced up and smiled innocently in greeting.

“Get off her,” I growled. Anger burned the back of my throat. I strode over in two giant steps and grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt. I lifted him off Roo and crushed him to the wall.

Jed blinked, eyes unfocused as his head hit the surface with a thud.

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.

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, thinking.

“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—”

Eve’s brown eyes shot up to meet mine, and I halted my words.

“Yes I know all about her,” Eve said. “And she’s not what you think.”

“How the bloody hell would you know that.”

“Because I’ve met her. Besides, you would know that too but it seems as though your memory is slipping.”

Bugger. Exactly how much did this woman know?

Just then, the temperature dropped in the room, icy cold, fog misted in front of Eve’s mouth and then her eyes traveled to an area over my shoulder.

My skin crawled.

It was here. The presence.

“You’ve been followed,” Eve stated without taking her fingers off the chess piece she held.

“You can feel that?” I stood.

She stayed seated, silent, listening.

My senses twitched. I wanted to leave, but I’d only just begun. Conflicted, my fingers tapped my thigh, thrumming in agitation.

“Do you want me to get rid of it?” Eve asked.

That was unexpected. Offering to help?

Suspecting a trap, I was about to decline and leave, but something she said earlier changed my mind. She’d met Little Red. I was curious.

I assessed the witch’s aura for signs of betrayal and found only soft steady electricity. So unlike the other witches I’d met. Still baffled. But appeased. For now.

Admitting that I knew about the presence and did nothing to erase it would seem a weakness to her. And, bloody hell if I accepted help from the first of those abominations, but… it would be good to get rid of that sinister cloud stalking me and she’d be thinking she did me a favor. I could use that.

“Very well. But first, can you find out who it is?”

Eve’s eyebrow raised on one side as she stood and smoothed her palms down her regal blue shift dress.

Then she closed her eyes, breathed deep and went still. When she opened them, her eyes were black. A dark stream of smoke billowed from her mouth and dissipated into the room’s atmosphere. She was everywhere and nowhere.

The energy in the room amped up. The hairs raised on the back of my neck.

For a moment, a slither of jealousy peaked in me. It wasn’t fair that these creatures had such mighty untethered control over their energy. I’d had thousands of years to evolve, and yet I was a novice in this area compared to her. I couldn’t leave my body permanently. My flesh was anchored to my soul. This simple fact made me ineligible to play the Game the way others did, but at the same time, it gave me a unique ability to drift my atoms apart without losing my identity. A curse and a blessing.

I waited and watched.

The darkness turned up again, and this time Eve’s body pounced, catching on tendrils. I gasped. How on earth did she get her body to move when she wasn’t in it? She used her body like a puppet while her energy in the room herded the offending presence to her body where she trapped the darkness like a cockroach in bait. It flailed in her hands, unwilling to yield. Effortlessly, Eve’s body held on, pulled it close and whispered sweet nothings into the darkness, unafraid.

As though she’d done it before.

The interloper swam around her arm in a swarm of blackness, pulling in closer, as though unable to resist her call, until eventually it undulated around her limb as though a snake, charmed. The remaining putrid black smoke that was Eve’s essence flowed back into her body through her eyes, ears and mouth, like a waterfall in reverse.

As though taking her fill of a fine drink, she sighed when she returned fully to the body. She gazed at the smoke snake around her arm with curious eyes.

“Who are you?” Eve asked the darkness, licking her lips. “Who sent you?”

I couldn’t hear the whispered response.

Eve’s eyes flicked to catch mine. “He was sent by the Dark-Lord.”

“Fuck,” I spat. The Prince. “That little prick.”

“Wait—he was sent by him or…” Eve paused, straining. “Or he was sent for him. It’s hard to tell. Would you like me to get rid of it?”

“What do you want?”

Eve laughed. “Always a price, isn’t there, Marc.”

“I’m no fool.”

“Like I said to your little friend the Soul-Eater. I don’t want anything in return. I want to help.”

Now it was my turn to laugh. During her little show of power, she’d neglected to guard her aura. I could see her intentions in full Technicolor glory. “Nothing in return. Wow. You are a number.”

This sent anger rippling over her face. “I don’t want it to be this way. I never did.”

“I don’t care what you want. The simple fact is that your creations are destroying our game, and the humans inside it.”

“My creations.” She laughed. “How is it different from what you’ve done?”

“Uh, for starters, love, I don’t know exactly how you formed, but I’m not blind. I can see you have links to the darkness that was set loose in the beginning, meaning you’re original sin incarnate and your creations are the spawn of evil.”

“Ha! And yours aren’t? What about your wars? What about your evil humans, the murderers, rapists, molesters? I didn’t make those.”

“No, but…” I had nothing to respond. It was the Prince who defiled the Queen’s perfect children, and I supposed it was the Queen who created something for him to defile in the first place.

Without waiting for my next words, Eve continued her conversation with the black shadow draped around her arm. I frowned. That’s enough of that, thanks.

Within seconds, I was in front of her. My aura surrounded the writhing darkness.

“If I were you, I’d slowly disengage your arm from that mess,” I warned.

Eve’s eyes flared, and a vein popped in her forehead. “What are you doing?”

“Getting rid of it, of course. Do you have a problem with that?”

She swallowed. “No.”

“Well then.” I watched her slowly slide her arm back to herself and out of my range. The black smoke stayed in my trap.

I caught Eve’s gaze and lifted an eyebrow, a silent challenge, making sure she understood what I was about to do. Then I stepped through the in-between to land a few feet to the right. The darkness that had been contained was now nothing, destroyed by the fabric of the universe. At least I think it was. Either way, it no longer existed in this room.

“I owe you nothing,” I said.

“No, you don’t, but you’d like something, wouldn’t you?”

Eve’s question hit the nail on the head. I did want something. Answers. It was like she saw right through me. I wouldn’t be surprised if she knew my true name. She held an air of vulgar confidence, so sure in her knowledge, like she knew the hour of my death.

“What do you want?” she asked and went back to her game of chess.

“Tell me about the hunter.”

“Do you mean the one you know in this age, or the one who stopped us all from returning to Paradise.”

“You cannot return if you were never there.”

“Semantics.”

“No, you act as though you’re one of us, but you aren’t.”

She pressed her lips tight.

“You keep saying. So, which hunter—the new or the old?” She used a pawn to capture my knight.

Now, that knight needed to be avenged. I couldn’t help but sit opposite her and capture the offending pawn with my bishop. “You tell me.”

“Marc, Marc, Marc. There is no need to be so cryptic with me. I know more than you think.”

“You started it.”

Eve clicked her tongue as though I were a recalcitrant pisser. “All right. A truce then. I’ll tell you something, and then I expect you to do the same.”

“Ooh, yes, I’ve played this game before. You show me yours and I’ll show you mine. Right-o, tell me, specifically, was it you who split his soul and why? What did he do to you to deserve such a punishment?”

A muscle near Eve’s eyes twitched. “By him, I’m assuming you mean the hunter?”

“Of course.” Boring, witch, this was getting rather tedious.

“Yes, this is true. It was me.”

“How. Why?”

Eve left her seat at the chess table and strolled to the window with her hands clasped gently behind her back. As she got to the curtains and peered behind a drape, she sighed dramatically. I snorted. What an actress.

“You see, this is where I would usually twist the truth to some version of it, but alas, in this instance, I have no benefit in lying. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. To understand the why and the how, I must first take you back to the beginning.”

I stifled a yawn. I hated long winded stories. Much more of an action man myself. “Give me the Cliff’s Notes version, yeah?”

Her eyebrow arched as she tilted her head my way. She had a way she wanted this to play out, and I wasn’t having a bar of it.

“I haven’t got all day, witch,” I added, unable to hide the disdain dripping from my words.

That got her cylinders firing. She rounded on me and used her power to take me in an invisible choke hold and squeezed. Her arm extended mimicking the action, hand outstretched, opening and closing in my direction.

Pressure tightened around my neck. To anyone else, it may have suffocated them, broken their larynx, severed their spine. For me, it tickled. I shivered playfully and shimmied, pretending I’d just gotten the best feather massage a bloke had ever seen.

“That all you got?”

Her middle-aged face animated and contorted with fury. Her cheeks reddened, her eyes darkened. All in all, I thought things were going rather splendidly. Precisely according to plan.

“There she is.” I laughed in a throaty voice, pretending to be affected by her strike. “C’mon, love, show me what you really think.”

Her face trembled and her splayed fingers vibrated. Good. Give it up.

“I’m thinking I won’t tell you anything anymore,” she spat. “I’m thinking you are a waste of space, Gamekeeper, and I’ll be doing the world a favor by getting rid of you.”

Her wide fingers contracted as though she squeezed a rock, and the pressure on my neck tightened.

I rolled my eyes, and then said with lackluster, “No. Please. No. Oh my, whatever will I do?”

Her eyebrows darted upwards, betraying a flicker of surprise. Then they snapped downwards. She threw her second arm out in a slashing motion towards my body. Probably intending to slice me apart or something equally unimaginative.

I had been monitoring her aura and expected this. I expected everything. My sixth sense was as good as reading minds. Now, the only question was whether to keep playing her game to get answers, or to try things my way.

I decided on my way. Naturally.

Instantly, I warped to a position behind her, slipped my fingers around her neck and gently squeezed. The action was more like a love-tap, a symbol of her entrapment than anything else because, while my fingers squeezed, my power engulfed her. All I had to do was take her through the in-between and she’d be lost, dispersed into chaos, nothing but a memory. Just like her black smoked friend.

“I must admit, love, that was easier than I thought,” I said into her ear. “I mean, really.”

She swallowed beneath the touch of my fingers.

“Now,” I said, letting go of her neck, but not of her being. I made a show of wiping imaginary dust from my new clothing construct. “Tell me why you split the hunter’s soul and hid him from us.”

She straightened her back and faced me.

“Come now, love. You know I’m one of the most powerful beings in existence. No need to simper like that.”

“If you are so powerful, why are you leashed to this planet as her lapdog?”

Anger boiled beneath my skin. “I’m nobody’s lapdog.”

But the truth of it was, I may as well be. I did everything Sephie wanted, and what did I get in return? The permission to bed and befriend only those destined to live and die in the blink of an eye, or the discarded miscreants left banished on this planet. No lasting friendships have been made, no enduring love, only memories of some that faded.

“I did it to save his life,” she said.

“And why would you go and do a thing like that?”

“Because he saved mine.”

“Are you telling me, that the bleeding hunter of witches actually spawned the whores of evolution himself?”

“That’s a gross overgeneralization but, yes, that’s fairly close.”

A huff of air shot out of my mouth as I paced the room. Lies. As if the hunter created any of that. He was the one and only person who gave his life to destroy the bleeding darkness. Bloody brilliant. Just what I ordered. A bleeding pack of lies.

As soon as I thought the word, I cast a sideways glance at the woman to inspect her aura more thoroughly. I made her repeat her sentence. The tiniest flicker of doubt rippled over her energy.

Lie.

“And where is his true body?” I continued, pretending to play along.

“Gone.”

“What do you mean, gone?”

“I mean it was destroyed.” Her aura stayed steady. Truth.

“All right. How do you know that?”

“I was there, of course.” Truth.

“And how did you do it, then? How did you split his soul?”

This was where Eve’s aura faltered. She hesitated, took a deep breath and sat down heavily at the chair opposite the chess table.

“Care to elaborate?” I prompted.

“Not really, for if I do, my last and final secret will be out.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Do I look like I care?”

“Fine. Being one of the Queen’s first successful creations, I was in a position of confidence. She allowed me within the confines of her laboratories. She showed me her precious book and the spells within it.”

Truth. Interesting. “Boring. Get to the good bit.”

Even spluttered and huffed. “You’re a pompous, egotistical, misogynistic—”

I held up my other hand. “Spare me the theatrics, love. I’m out of patience.”

“Fine. To cut the long story short, I wasn’t happy being confined to this planet. She thought I was ignorant, but I wasn’t. The Dark-Lord enlightened me. We were prisoners to be abused for the enjoyment of the elite. He convinced me to steal the book. I copied it. I used her opinion of me against her. She didn’t believe me capable of understanding, but I did. I thought I could use the book on myself, make myself immortal, but I got it wrong. Most of her soul-science only worked on Seraphim, those who were already immortal. It was useless to me. This was about that time I discovered the Dark-Lord planned to annihilate my people, to turn them dark to serve his own purpose. He wanted nothing more than to destroy the Queen’s pet project, and to use them against her to take the Empire for himself. By that stage, I was caught between a rock and a hard place. When the hunter found himself in a similar predicament, we bargained. He would set my complete soul lose and I would help him hide his soul using what I’d learned from the book.”

“And by Dark-Lord, I’m assuming you mean the Prince.”

“Don’t be daft. The Prince died. I meant Urser.”

“Dead? I thought he was hiding. And Urser?”

“Dead as a doorknob.”

Well, that was unexpected. Still… I couldn’t tell if it was a lie or truth.

“Love, now out with the truth.”

She cast a wary eye at me. “That was the truth.”

I inhaled deeply. I really was getting tired of this. Why did people even bother to argue with me? “Do I have to torture you, really?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You lied. About being the one who split his soul.”

She was silent.

I put pressure on her energy with mine.

“Fine. He did it himself. You happy now? He set himself on fire and split his own soul, all by himself.”

I was right, of course I was happy. Sort of. A queasy feeling rolled in my stomach. I didn’t want to ask the next question. “How do we tie his soul back to his original body if it’s gone?”

A slow, evil smile curved up Eve’s face, but she stayed silent.

“You know don’t you?” I accused. “With all the experiments you’ve done to our kind, you know.”

Her smile grew.

Air rushed out of my lungs. “Fine. What do you want?”

“You know what I want.”

“Deal.” We shook hands. “But I take no responsibility for what happens to your soul after you arrive in the Empire.”

“You need his blood,” Eve conceded. “Or her blood. I heard they were soulmates. That meant they had similar genetic markers.”

“Are you fucking having a laugh?”

At that moment she did, but she continued, “If you have the blood from his original body, and with the help of an Alchemist, fuse it with his current one, then you create a new Seraphim body.”

“And that’s it? Nothing you need to say, no chanty chant, or hocus-pocus?”

“Your girl has the Book of the Dead. She’ll know.”

Cash

My two hands slipped behind Roo’s neck and held her still. She stared up at me, waiting. My heart beat rapidly against her palm on my chest and my lungs drew a ragged breath. A flicker of guilt over my absenteeism hit me, but that’s all it was, a flicker. My desire was too strong. It surged to the surface, wanting, needing to be closer to her. My fingers flexed on her nape, trying to be gentle. It was the neck I’d ruined days before, vulnerable again. I wanted to lay my lips on her, to remove the painful memory and replace it with something better. Need rippled through my body, leaving tremors in its wake. I couldn’t hold out.

I bent and brushed my lips to the soft spot beneath her ear, and she melted into me. When I licked on her ear lobe, she moaned softly. She slid her palm around my chest to rest at my back and tugged me closer, a silent plea.

“I missed you,” she whispered, her fingers twisted in my shirt.

I pulled back and checked her eyes. They were sincere, glistening and wide, and they weakened me because I felt the same way.

“There hasn’t been a day I didn’t think of you,” I said. “Hell, no, there wasn’t an hour, a minute, that went by without you in my thoughts. You’re all I think of, Roo, and I tried to deny it, but I can’t do it anymore.”

“Why would you deny it?” Her breath hitched.

“Because I’m no good for you. I know that’s a horrible cliché, but it’s all I’ve got.” I pulled my gaze from her. “The things I’ve done. Especially to you.”

“Is that why you avoided me for the past week?” Her gentle touch on my chin pulled my gaze back to her hardened eyes. “There is nothing more despised in this universe than me. If there is anyone not worthy, it is me. I’m a Soul-Eater, Cash. Case in point.”

“Yet, you’re new to this reality. I’ve got eons of sin dripping from me.”

“If you were so bad, then your aura wouldn’t be so light. No. It’s me who is dark. It’s me who will taint you with what I am.”

She stiffened beneath me, signaling she was about to pull away, but I held tight, hands fisting in her hair.

“I’ve told you I don’t believe that.”

“But it’s true, I’ve devoured souls.”

“Perhaps we are made for each other,” I mumbled. “Because my soul is yours for the taking.”

Before she could grumble about my second horrible cliché, I crushed my mouth to hers, moving her lips with a ferocious need that echoed in my heart. Her essence pushed into me, stroking my soul, setting it on fire. With her, it was more than a simple kiss. With her it was everything. Electricity and sensations I couldn’t explain traveled through our connection and amplified my entire being. I felt lighter and heavier with need at the same time. The scent of her swam through my senses, flooding me, drowning out every other thought. There was nothing but her.

“Finally.” Roo pulled back and smiled. “You took long enough. Not about me taking your soul because I won’t do that. I mean, you took long enough about the—”

I kissed her. “With this, I’ll take as long as I can.” I nipped at her neck, eliciting a long, drawn out moan from her. The sound tugged at my restraint and I doubted my words. I wanted her now. This instant. What this woman did to me was insane. I hadn’t felt like this since… since… Her.

“You have no idea how much I want this, but we’re going to be late.” She patted my shoulder while my lips trailed down her neckline. I wasn’t done. On the way back up, I licked a line to her lobe and she shivered.

“Fuck late,” I said and lifted her by the waist to sit on the kitchen bench.

I gripped her above the knees and took a moment to appreciate her beauty. Red, tousled hair tumbling down her shoulders, rosy cheeks with kissable, swollen lips. Honey eyes that glistened for me. A possessive rumble erupted from the base of my throat. For me. Slowly my hands slid up her thighs until my fingers pushed at the hem of her skirt, reveling in the indecent vision I’d imagined earlier. I nudged in until she opened her legs to make room for me with an amused glint in her eyes.

That look. White hot want burst through me and, without ceremony, I swiped the papers and coffee cups from the bench behind her, letting them crash loudly to the floor. I wanted her to lay back, to let me—

“What’s that?” she said.

“The cups.”

“No, that other sound.”

“Don’t care.” I kissed her above her breast.

“I heard a sound.” She straightened herself and pushed at my shoulders until I drew away. “And I can sense an aura. A familiar one. There.”

Someone knocked at the door.

Roo squeaked.

The haze covering my mind cleared.

Jed shouldn’t be back yet. How much time had passed? I checked the clock on the wall. Perhaps he had figured out I’d lied about the job. I’d only wanted him out of the house. Yes, I was a bastard, but I’d deal with that later.

“I’ll get it,” Roo said, cheeks flushed, and slipped off the bench.

I enjoyed watching her pull her dress down her lush curves as she walked to the door, taking pleasure in the knowledge that I’d roused her that way.

A grin broke out on my face.

I didn’t notice who was on the other side of the door until it was too late.

Marc

When the door opened, I did not expect what I found. The sight of Little Red’s flushed cheeks hit me squarely in the chest. I swallowed. She looked magnificent. I let my gaze travel down her body and delighted in the tight dress she wore.

“You knocked.” Her eyes were wide with disbelief.

“Well, I’m not a complete degenerate. I do have manners, you know. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“Yes, but, you never knock. You just”—she made a gesture with her fingers—“poof, you appear.”

My eyebrow arched. “Love, please tell me you didn’t call me a poof.”

“Ah…”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I have no qualms with a well timed orgy from time to time, but I detest the word.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She glanced over her shoulder, preoccupied. It was then I noticed her usually abundantly sensual and flowing hair was messed up.

“Sorry, love, am I interrupting?” I peeked inside, hoping to have a gander of what was going on in there. Bloody hell. Doing this the right proper way was a pain in the ass, but she did harp on about my need to respect her privacy, so here I was, respecting her privacy. I sensed an aura in there, but it was slippery, evasive. Stuff and nonsense.

A large hand appeared on her shoulder and pulled her to the side to reveal the even larger body of the hunter.

Of course. Who else would have a slippery, sneaky aura?

“What do you want, Marc?”

The hunter’s stormy gaze was more clouded than usual and, if I focused, I noticed a surge in his aura that caused me to dart between him and Little Red. The evidence became clear. The energy between them turned opaque in its entanglement. Cloudy wisps of essence sought the other half out. Bollocks. I knew exactly what that meant.

I took a sudden breath, irritation rising swiftly, painting my atoms red.

They’d been… in flagrante delicto. I could tell. It was as clear as the day. Written all over their faces. Her messed up hair and his disheveled shirt. Bloody handsome devil in that shirt, he was. It sat rather nicely across his pectorals. Perhaps next time I visited, I’d wear something similar.

I frowned again. I had no right to be, but the thought of them doing ‘it’ drove me mad. I didn’t want anyone touching her.

She looked up at me all innocent and adorable, waiting for me to say something.

I cleared my throat and met Cash’s hard stare. “I need to speak with you.”

Cash checked the clock on the wall behind them and then sighed, stepping to the right. A gap opened up. “Come in.”

I stepped across the threshold, walked near the kitchen bench, and noticed paper littered across the floor along with debris of some sort.

“You said you had a third person living here, yeah?” I queried, choosing to ignore the mess.

“He’s out,” Cash said and pulled up next to me where he folded his arms and leant a hip on the bench.

“Right. So then, Little Red, I should probably let you know the spy has been dealt with. No need to proceed with Operation Scarab.” I touched the side of my nose with the tip of my finger as I looked at her.

“Oh good. To be honest, I kind of forgot. Those notes were for Cash and something unrelated.”

“Oh,” I said. “Because of his terminal condition, you mean?”

“What?” Roo stepped back, away from Cash, away from me.

Cash cursed under his breath.

“You didn’t tell her, you cheeky sod,” I said.

“What’s he talking about, Cash?” Roo asked.

“It’s nothing.”

“Bollocks. Bertram told me.” In a flash, I was in front of the hunter, ripping his shirt at the center, popping buttons, displaying his bruised and manly chest for all the world to see. Tiny plastic buttons clattered to the floor and whirled loudly.

“Asshole.” Fierceness flared in Cash’s eyes and he shoved me in the chest.

“Careful now, hunter. I mean, I knew you had a death wish, but you don’t want to go there, mate, really.”

Cash’s nostrils flared as he sized me up, calculating, assessing. Fists flexed at his side, pectorals tensed, abs bunched. Obviously the little tosser wanted another go.

As if reading my mind, lightning fast, he shoved me again. I almost hadn’t seen him and he caught me unawares. I’d forgotten how quick he was. I dropped back a pace or two. He shoved me again. Lucky shot.

“Right. That’s how you want to play it then, yeah?” I teleported directly behind him and slapped him playfully over the head, then shifted back to the front, ready to laugh at his inferiority, but was met with a fist to the sternum.

I coughed as pain splintered from the site. Another lucky shot.

I growled. Right, fun time was over. Fury surged through my anatomy. White hot rage ripped through me and I jabbed him in the face, hitting him squarely in the jaw.

He staggered, head snapping backward. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to catch my eyes and wiped a smear of blood from his lip with a smirk. “Hoc est bellum, hey Marc?”

Those words hadn’t been muttered in years. Thousands.

“Why did you say that?” I asked, pausing my fist in the air.

“One of Urser’s men uttered it to me before he died. I thought it appropriate in this case.”

“Bloody Hell. Didn’t see that coming.” I stood down, urging my rage to release and let go. I scrutinized the hunter’s aura. There was no vindictiveness, no sin sparked my way, only the same steady Cash. I shook my head. Despite wanting to rip the sod’s head off, he wasn’t my enemy. Far from it.

“This is war. You know that’s what you said, yeah?”

Cash looked at me like I was barmy. “Of course I did. Why else would I say it?”

“Did you also remember that when spoken between our kind, it’s an actual declaration of war?”

“I was just…”

“I’m not talking about you and me, I’m talking about that bloody Urser soldier. Use your head, hunter, think!”

“Damn.”

“That’s right, civil war. It’s here.”

Cash slammed his fists on the kitchen bench, rattling its foundations. It was exactly how I felt.

War.

All of the time and effort spent honing this planet into something more peaceful, protecting and loving for the Simons—it will be eradicated. Bloody Urser. I knew he was up to no good. I knew it. But, honestly, the bastard had kept his machinations firmly within the confines of the rules of the Game. When did it go beyond that? When had he seen the need to teach his house those three little latin words?

When you were too busy frolicking around with Simons to notice.

I sighed. They were bloody good frolics.

“Can somebody tell me, what the hell is going on?” Roo’s voice amplified in pitch as it filled the room, bringing our attention to her.

Magnificent, I marveled. She’d instinctively used her power in her voice. Definitely not a Soul-Eater then, I thought, distracted. Unless she stole that ability off someone. I’d be utterly and truly devastated if she were one of those bloody parasites. Sure, she’d be handy in the coming war, but, what a waste.

“Do I have to repeat myself?” Roo’s wild eyes darted between us.

“Go on then, hunter, tell her the other juicy tid-bit you left out.”

Cash’s eyes shuttered, and the air deflated in his chest. “I’m dying,” he said without opening his eyes.

“What?” Roo choked, taking a step toward him. “That’s impossible. What do you mean? Shit. Have I done something?” She blinked at her hands. “Was it me touching you?”

“No, love, it’s not you. What he means is that his simple Simon shell is failing. He’ll be returning to the Empire shortly.”

“But, why didn’t you tell me?” Roo stepped away when Cash moved towards her. “You came here, and you… you lied.”

“I didn’t lie, I was—”

“You were going to quit, is what you were going to do,” I said with a smirk. This was grade-A entertainment, this. Who needed a talking box, when you had this? I folded my arms across my chest to watch the drama play out. All I needed right now was tea and honey cakes. Maybe some Ambrosia.

Cash shot a glare precisely in my direction. “How did you know?”

“God-of-the-in-between.” I pointed at myself and rolled my eyes. Really. How many times did I have to remind these people? “I can sense when people are close to crossing.”

“Bullshit.”

“Alright. It was Betram.”

“You were going to quit? As in… suicide?” Roo slid herself onto the edge of a stool. “I need to sit down.”

“I didn’t tell you because I changed my mind.” Cash gave me a pleading look, and bloody hell if it didn’t pull at the old heart strings.

Kinder, Marc. Be kinder. I could almost hear my old mate Plato preaching in my ear in his oddball Greek accent. “Be kind, for everyone is fighting a hard battle.” Or did I get that from a wrapper around those little mints?

I sighed. “Right. I apologize for my big mouth. I forgot about that part. You have no body to return to.”

“This is so messed up.” Roo swiped her wet eyes. “I can’t lose you now… I…” Her voice trailed off, and she appeared to look inwards, thinking about something that clearly made her distraught.

Then I remembered. Little Red had to pass the trials before being released as a full fledged Player into the Game. She was at risk of being sent back to where she came from, and even worse, being tied to her father’s house for her duration here. Royals sometimes had other duties extraneous to the game. All at once my chest constricted, and I regretted being the one to break the bad news. I didn’t like seeing her this way. Desolate and hopeless. It wasn’t right.

“Don’t worry, love, we’ll think of something.”

“So what can we do? How long do you have?” Roo locked eyes on Cash.

“Don’t know,” he said. “Could be months. Could be about a year, maybe more, maybe less. I guess it depends on how much I use my abilities. Bertram said the more I use them, the more I’ll burn through my body. It’s not exactly like I can stop smelling or sensing things.”

I snorted. “Definitely don’t go using that flaming sword thingy then. Any expended energy will tax your body.”

Cash stopped short. “What sword?”

“You know, the one you used to… I thought you said your memories were returning.”

“In dribs and drabs.”

“Mate.” A smile inched up the side of my face. “You had the ability to conjure a sword made of flames. Red for eternal death, blue for severing souls from bodies, yellow for something or another. I stopped paying attention when you gave your little speeches to the rest of the cavalry. I much preferred to use my skills for loving than fighting.”

They both stared at me dumbly.

“What? Haven’t you ever heard ‘it’s all fair in love and war’? Who do you think that came from?”

Silence from the two of them echoed in the air.

“Right. Well, you’ve most likely heard of the Archangel Michael using a flaming sword to kick the sinners out of Eden and removing the ingredient they needed to return. That was you, hunter, except in the case of truth, you used it to kill all the infected Simons the Queen left behind. You and your bloody sword. I mean, talk about a man having an unnatural attachment to his appendage. You could just fire it up anywhere, any time. Magnificent, really. C’mon people. I told you all this back in Australia. Didn’t I?”

Roo’s eyes darted from side to side and a frown creased her brow. “Actually, I think you did mention the Archangel, but for some reason, I got stuck on the Egyptian mythology. Or was it Roman? I’m getting so confused.”

“It’s all bloody the same, isn’t it, love? Different tales, same story.”

“But we don’t know all that! You know that! Maybe if you told us exactly what happened all those years ago, you’d save us a lot of trouble. Why can’t you people all just write one book about what you did, instead of five million?”

“No need to get snarky. And besides, we don’t write the books, our believers do.”

“Why did you come here, Marc?” Cash asked, jaw clenched. “I can’t believe it was to screw everything up for me. There had to be another reason.”

“Yes. That’s right. I came here to tell you I spoke with that witch”—I flinched at the word—“who helped you disappear in the first place. Rather ironic really.”

“Does she know where my real body is?”

“She said you split your soul by yourself.”

“How does that help us?” Roo asked.

I shrugged. I didn’t have all the answers.

“Aren’t you supposed to be more invested in Players? Shouldn’t this be your job—to help him with this stuff?” Little Red’s temper flared, giving her an invigorating flush.

“What do you think I’ve been doing, love, and besides, I was never charged with protecting Players. It’s my job to protect the Simons. Making sure Players don’t step out of line is part of that.”

“So you don’t give a shit what happens to Cash?”

“He’ll survive.”

A strangled scream ripped from her lungs and shook the walls. She launched to her feet, fists clenching at her side. “Between the two of you, I don’t know why I bother. You’re both bloody arrogant assholes who only care about yourselves.”

She stormed toward the door.

“Where do you think you are going?” Cash snapped.

“To the car. We’re late for a funeral,” she shot back.

But when she opened the door, someone was waiting for her.

Cash

Fear exploded when I saw what waited on the other side of the door. James, or rather, what was left of James burst through with an inhuman growl. Roo yelped and jumped back in surprise, shielding herself behind the open door.

The emaciated boy’s thin, gray skin had sunk below the hollows of his cheeks. His eyes were distant, focused inwards on something, yet flashed around the room with unfettered hunger. A sickly sweet and sour scent saturated the air. The same scent I had smelled back at the dorm. The boy stank of rotten, decaying flesh, like a witch.

“Where is it?” James spat.

“Where is what?” I positioned myself between James and Roo by bracing my hand on the edge of the door to hold it firm. The message was clear: Go through me to get to her.

“You stole it. You took it from me. I need more.” James’s fingers clawed at my forearm but I deflected with my palm, like swatting a fly.

He must have meant the vial found in the scarab.

“It’s gone, James. There’s none left.”

“You’re lying. I smell it on you.”

The fact that he could smell something like that was a testament to new abilities he shouldn’t have as a human. Which posed the question, what was he becoming?

“I had it, but it’s gone.”

A wail ripped from him and he sunk to his knees, fingers raking down my front, cutting into me with new claws. “But I’m so hungry.”

Roo ducked under my arm and knelt beside the boy. “It’s okay. I’ll get you some food.”

“Roo, get back.”

I made to grab her but James beat me to it. It happened so fast that all I registered was the whites of his eyes as his yellowed teeth latched onto Roo’s shoulder.

“No!” I punched him in the temple, knocking him out. He fell in her arms, a dead weight.

“No more!” Roo held her trembling hand in the air, too late. “He’s sick. I can fix him, stop. Please, no more.”

At her words, I froze, my blood running cold. Those were the exact words the Queen had used in my memory. Her words. Something clicked inside me as ice cold recognition slammed down my spine. I met Marc’s blue eyes, hoping he’d allay my confusion.

The god’s face turned white, and he held the same cocktail of expression: shock, recognition and fear, all rolled into one.

“Fuck.” The word fell from my mouth.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, mate?” Marc murmured.

My eyes bored into the smarmy god, trying to figure out if he indeed thought the same thing. He was there that day, he’d heard the Queen proclaim to be able to fix them.

“How can we be sure?” I replied.

Unaware of what conspired between Marc and I, Roo touched her palm on the poor boy’s chest, holding him steady. She met our gazes with defiant eyes.

“He’s just a boy,” she whispered. “There’s something off with is aura. I can’t explain it, but, maybe it’s the book in me, maybe it’s something else. I think I can fix him. I know I can. He’s innocent.”

She leant in to listen to James’s breath. “He’s breathing,” she mumbled, and kept checking for signs of health.

Air rushed out of Marc’s flared nostrils, and when he returned his gaze to me, he spoke softly under his breath. “I know her true name.”

“Say it.”

In slow motion and with anticipation pulling the air thick, together, we studied Roo as Marc whispered one word: “Seraphina.”

A wave of tremors tore over her body as she clearly felt the sensation caused by a Seraphim’s true name being called. Surprised at her body’s reaction, she was unaware the effect came from Marc’s whispered word. She strained to maintain control, to hide the sensation from both of us, and when it was over, she patted her throat, as though she’d nearly fainted, but we’d seen the truth.

Rock solid affirmation gripped my heart.

The Queen. Seraphina.

Unaware, vulnerable, and trapped in a Nephilim body. It had to be.

The knowledge brought every protective gene rushing to the surface of my body.

Nobody can find out. Not even her.

The room swayed and sweat trickled down my spine. I put my hand on Marc to steady myself, swallowing. “She mustn’t know.”

Marc’s wide eyes blinked at him. The tendons in his jaw ticked as he clearly thought over something. “I don’t like lying to her,” he breathed.

I gave him a reproachful look. “We have no choice. She’s a sitting duck.”

It seemed like an age before either of us breathed, and it wasn’t until Roo snapped us out of our stasis that we moved. “Well, Marc, Cash? Did you hear what I said?”

“Sorry, love, what did you say?”

“Should we take him back to your clinic, Cash, or should I have a go at fixing him?”

I snapped back into focus. “Yes, they might have formulated an antidote.”

“Perfect,” Roo said. “Marc, you’ll be the quickest there. Why don’t you go and check?”

“Yes, love. Right on it.” Marc held my arm and moved us both so our backs were to her. He lowered his voice for my ears only. “You may be right. She can’t know until she’s in full control of her memories. I will have to go back and confirm her body is safe. Who knows what’s happened for her to turn up on this planet as a lowly Player. If there were any a time to resume her training, it is now. Remind her how powerful she is. Give her the tools to protect herself. It’s impertinent you watch her at all times.”

“I won’t leave her side.”

“If she takes a piss, I want you there.”

My teeth ground. “I get it.”

“Do you?” Marc’s eyes flashed. “Because if I’m not mistaken, hunter, you were about to quit. There is nothing more vital than protecting her. Without her, the Empire is in ruin. She’s the only thing holding the warring territories at bay. Her and this bloody game.” His eyes ran over my body, assessing. “How long do you have, again?”

“Bertram is uncertain. A year, more or less.”

“Right. I will be back long before then. Oh, and… there’s something else.”

I tossed a glance over my shoulder to where Roo shifted James, trying to make him comfortable, checking his temperature with the back of her hand, of all things. “What is it?” My eyes returned to Marc.

The god’s appearance flickered to his younger self with alarm painted over his face. “I was followed.”

I stiffened. “Here?”

“No. Earlier.”

“I’m yet to see the relevance.”

“It was when I took her with me to the bar—through the in-between.”

Realization dawned on me. “They’ll know about her. Whoever it was following you, they’ll know. Well, at least that she’s not who she says she is.”

Marc nodded solemnly. “I screwed up.”

“Guys!” Roo urged, interrupting them.

“Going, pet.” Marc gave me one last soulful look before dissolving into the atmosphere, granules of sandy dust falling to the ground in his wake.

Frozen to the spot, I didn’t know what to do. Thoughts escaped me. My world had just been turned on its head. All that remained was residual awe. The naïve, innocent woman I wanted to indecently devour an hour ago was the almighty, all powerful Queen sitting in half-human body. The same reverence I’d felt in my dream seeped into my bones. No wonder I’d felt the way I had when around her. I’d loved her through eternity.

Flashes of the people I killed flickered past my eyes and a grinding feeling twisted my gut. I’d loved her, but in the end, I’d hated who I had become for her.

Today, I wasn’t the same person and neither was she.

I could do things differently this time. I could speak my mind and hold my resolve. I wouldn’t let her put either of us in the position where we had to eradicate a world to erase a mistake.

“Don’t just stand there looking like you’re trying to figure out the number brown, get over here and help me position him before he wakes. Let’s move him to the gym mat.”

A quirk pulled at the side of my mouth. She was nothing like the woman I remembered.

I picked the feather light boy up. Roo scurried to the black rubber mat that covered the floor of my in-house gym. She found a clean, rolled up towel and put it on the ground.

“Here, put his head here.”

I gently lowered the boy.

“If there’s no antidote, then I’m going to make one,” she said with a firm set of her jaw.

I met her eyes, they were full of confidence. A wave of shame washed over me about my decision to hide the boy’s condition from her these past few days. Not because she was the Queen, but because we were partners. We’d worked well together in Australia to defeat the witch, and we’d done that by trusting each other. Now she’s trusting my methods. She’ll wait for Marc before attempting a fix herself. Already things were different than the past. An apology was on the tip of my tongue.

Then the boy’s body bowed into the air and his hands curled up, tight, seizing.

“Shit, we can’t wait for Marc. He’s changing. Look at his skin.” It rippled with something underneath it. I remembered the way the Queen’s creations had looked in the end—more beast than man.

Roo glanced at her palm. Within moments a bloody welt appeared as though by magic. And she held her dripping palm up to focus on it. “Get me a knife, and I’ll cut him.”

My hand shot out and gripped her wrist. “No. Not your blood. You can’t mix yours with his.”

She wrenched it out of the way. “I don’t care if we’ll be linked. Blood is more powerful than saliva, and I’m not kissing him. He’s basically a child.”

“But, Roo…”

“No. Get me a knife.”

I shook my head.

She made a frustrated sound and picked up the boy’s arm. She couldn’t open his seized fingers, so moved to his forearm where she ran a finger over his skin. A line of red appeared as she opened his flesh with her power, then she put her open palm over his wound and closed her eyes.

“I can’t let you do that.” I captured her wrist again and pulled her back. Blood smeared on the boy’s arm.

She growled at me with furious eyes and twisted out of me grip. “It’s not up to you.”

“But this is bad for you. You’re risking your wellbeing for this boy. You’ll be infected with this disease and it could drag you down the evolutionary chain.” She had no idea, but it could be the shifting tide that cost her control of the Empire. In this world, a leader without power was useless.

“I’m already doomed to devolve into nothing. Soul-Eater, remember?” She pointed an accusatory finger at herself.

“I’ve told you before, you’re not a Soul-Eater.”

“Yes, I am.”

“You should wait for Marc, he won’t be long.”

“What do you care? You’re leaving!”

“I’m not… I—” My words died in my throat.

“Anyway, I refuse to believe helping someone in need will be a punishment. There’s no way the universe can look poorly on that!” With her last word, Roo turned her back on me and placed her hand gently on the boy’s wound.

Marc

I retrieved the antidote from the hunter’s laboratory, wrapped it in a massive dose of my aura to contain it, and then returned to his abode, ready to save the day. I wasn’t prepared see the boy awake, lucid and apparently quite human looking. The color had returned to his skin, his eyes were clear and the dark residue that had oozed from his every orifice was gone.

The three of them sat at the kitchen bench. Cash and Little Red—I mean Sephie… ah… my brain stalled. I wasn’t sure what to call her anymore. The overwhelming desire to have my old friend back here, lively and full of life was too much to handle, but it was wishful thinking. I both hummed with excitement and felt heavy with dread.

I had to get back to the Empire and see for myself, because the last time I had seen the Queen, she’d been a husk of a woman. She’d sat in her throne room, holding court, with a veil over her face, barely moving as she listened to the petitions of her inner circle. Everything that made her real had faded away. She seemed other-worldly and foreign. People said she was evolving into something that none of us were capable of understanding, but I thought differently. I’d known Sephie since she was a child, and that was not normal. I thought she was withering, dying, and I’d told her so. I called her a coward and said I wouldn’t stick around to watch her fade. She didn’t even respond.

So I sequestered myself on this planet, drowning my sorrows in her pets, pretending to be too busy with The Game and rumors of rebellion. I hadn’t returned. Not once. Perhaps that made me the coward, but she had broken my heart. Our life long friendship hadn’t been enough to bring her back. I hadn’t been enough.

I walked up to the counter and held up the clear bubble of liquid I’d received from Bertram back at the clinic. The vial containing it had dissipated in the in-between, but I’d managed to keep it contained in my essence. I dropped it into an empty glass on the kitchen bench.

“Then I guess you don’t need this?” I slid the glass at the hunter.

Cash effortlessly stopped its momentum and inspected it. “This is what the lab gave you for an antidote?”

“No, it’s not a cure. It’s something to treat the symptoms the poison created.”

“We don’t need anything. I fixed him.” A proud grin broke out on Little Red’s face.

I blinked. “I’m sorry, you what?”

The youth slowed his eating and watched our exchange. Upon seeing the look of complete outrage on my face, he glanced to his new savior for guidance.

“I purged his body of the… sludge, or whatever you want to call it.” She waved at the floor near the gym where the boy had been. There was a black puddle smeared across the ground. I didn’t know what to think. If that wasn’t the Queen standing in front of me, she was still bloody well something special.

“We should probably clean it up,” she said. “Do you think it’s bio-hazardous, contagious I mean? I’ll be okay, of course, but what about you guys?” She squinted at us.

“Are you checking my aura?” I asked.

Caught in the act she widened and averted eyes.

“They think the disease was administered in doses,” said Cash, musing over the antidote glass. He pushed it aside in favor of his own drink. “So, I don’t think it would be contagious.”

“No offense,” said Roo, “but that doesn’t mean it’s not contagious. I know how to create a virus that starts in one body, incubates, and then releases infectious airborne particles after a while.”

The hunter and I both gave her an incredulous look.

“What?” she replied innocently. “It’s from Petra’s Grimoire. I haven’t actually done it. Stop looking at me as though I’ve grown two heads.”

“Sorry, love, it’s just that you remind me of someone.”

“Oh, really, who?”

Cash choked on his drink, then tried to hide it with a cough.

“Someone I need to go and check up on.” My eyebrows quirked at the thought. There was no need to get caught up believing Sephie was right here when I could be wrong. She could be safe and sound, thousands of light-years away.

“Probably best we collect more samples of that, then.” I pointed to the black mess on the floor. “And the boy needs to be assessed.”

Roo placed a gentle hand on James’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “It’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“Hunter, could I see you outside, please?” I stepped toward the exit.

Cash followed me through the door and positioned himself in the portico outside. He checked back briefly at Roo, then folded his arms and waited, expectantly. Since I had left, the man had changed shirts to replace the one I’d ripped open. He now wore a chambray business shirt with the sleeves rolled up. No snide comments this time, just his trademark unwavering attention. Almost reminded me of the good old times.

“Right. We need a plan of action,” I started.

“I love how you think there’s a ‘we’ in this equation.”

“Are you mocking me, hunter?”

“Never.”

“We’re either together on this, or we aren’t.”

“I’m with her.”

“So am I.”

“Then we’re together.”

I sighed. “We should be including her in this conversation.”

“She can’t be. There is no way around it. Like you said, we don’t even know for sure it’s her.”

“I know that, but lying about this feels wrong.”

Cash placed a hand on the back of his neck and rolled his head, cracking his bones. “I don’t like lying either, but it’s for her protection.”

“You were fine to lie about it a day ago. What changed? Oh, no, don’t tell me. Of course. You did the rumpy-pumpy and now you’re whipped. You can’t see the forest for the trees. Need I remind you that you went off all half-cocked on a killing spree the first time and look where that got us.”

“She ordered me to do that.”

“But did she really mean it?”

“I left the uninfected.”

“I’ve done nothing but her wishes since you cocked up everything. I’ve spent my life cleaning up your mess. If there is anyone who will lead here, it’s me.”

“And what, exactly, do you think I’ve been doing? Having a picnic, or a walk in the park, perhaps? No. I’ve fucking been gathering the pieces of my broken soul for millennia. A soul that was broken to save this fucking mess.”

“Exactly. You’re broken. I’m not.”

“You dare to question my abilities…” His voice trailed off, and he dropped his arms to his side. “You’re right.”

“Of course I’m bloody well right. You may have been the strong one back then, but all I’ve been doing for the last few thousand years is damage control. I think I’ve learned a thing or two.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Just… just sit tight until I’m back. Can you do that?”

Cash’s nostrils flared, he grit his teeth and nodded.

“There’s a good lad. I’ll send help for when you get to The Ludus in Sydney.”

“I don’t think that’s wise. We shouldn’t be sharing this information with anyone.”

“She won’t know the full details. She’ll just think she’s doing a favor to get back in my good books, and considering how your body is failing, I believe we need backup. Australia is Urser’s territory. When I travel, time can shift out of my control. I only intend to go for a day or two but there may be too much passed before I get back. You stick to her like glue. Not a hair on her head harmed, yeah?”

“Of course.”

I sighed and rubbed my eyes. “I’ll go and give a few instructions to The Ludus about the trials. I don’t think I can cancel them, but perhaps I can shorten them to four or three. Oh, how I long for this all to be over, but there is so much to do before I go.”

“Via, veritas, vita.” Cash’s words hadn’t been spoken for many years, not since beginning. They meant: The way, the truth and the life, and it was a greeting and a goodbye in one. A motto, or guideline by which to live by. I thought it was good to hear the words again. It grounded me.

“Via, veritas, vita,” I murmured, then added, “Vivat Regina.” Long live the Queen.

* * *

Before I left for the Empire, I took a detour to the London Ludus, and made my way to the lowest below ground level. The desire to skip it all was strong. I had to get off this piddly planet. I had to get home. I longed for it. Ached for it. There were questions only my people could answer.

My people.

The words swam around my head. Were they really my people anymore when I’d lived on this planet for so long?

Perhaps the Simons were my people now.

Standing in Purgatory, ready to collect Seraphim souls, I realized I might have to make a few trips. Cor blimey, I thought, as I picked up a collection of baubles filled with static life-force. I struggled to carry them all. This was way overdue.

“About bloody time.” Jacine’s voice echoed from somewhere behind me in the vast, dark chamber. Walls were lined with shelves stocked with rows of souls trapped in glass spheres.

I glanced over my shoulder. “I know it’s been a while, but I had no idea these would build up so much.”

“A while? Try decades, Marc. And what did you expect? These souls won’t be happy when they return to their bodies.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve weighed any of them in front of the Tribunal, yet?”

“Well, we had. But it’s been a while. You might have to do them again, for due diligence.”

I sighed. Of course I did. If one, just one, of them was tainted with heavy darkness, and I let it through, then a plague of epic proportions would be released on the Empire. So far we’d kept the evil confined to this planet because we’d checked, quarantined, and checked again. And with the new threat of its rebirth, I couldn’t take a chance. But honestly. “There’s got to be over a hundred here.”

“Try a thousand, Marc.”

“Bollocks.”

“Don’t use that tone with me.”

I scrubbed my face. Perhaps it had been longer than I thought since my last trip. “All right, all right. I accept this as my fault. As long as you said they’ve been weighed, I’ll give you that. Besides, this lot looks clear to me. They’ll get assessed again upon entry to the Empire, so I’m sure it will be fine.”

“C’mon, then. How many can you safely carry?”

I assessed the mountain of spheres with a heavy heart. The answer was: not nearly enough to make this journey simple. I scratched my chin. “I’d say perhaps around a hundred, give or take.”

“Is that all?”

“If I take anymore, there’s a risk I can’t safely contain them in my aura. Even though this is a new polymer blend type glass, it’s still not fully organic and nowhere near as advanced as the one’s from the Empire. Even those disintegrate after a time. Perhaps you should liaise with the hunter and his team. They’ve come up with some fandangled new encasing. These spheres shatter half way across the journey, the souls release and then the strength of their energy competes with mine. I need to contain it, otherwise, boom, they’re tangled in the universe.” I shivered at the thought. The whole damned lot of them would wind up a mish-mash of atoms, including me.

“Are you saying you are in danger, dove?” Call me crazy, but to me, Jacine appeared concerned. She stepped towards me, a crease formed in her smooth brow. “Has this always been the case, no matter how many you carry?”

I recognized an ego stroke when I saw one. And I accepted. I flicked imaginary dust off my shoulder and shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

“Rubbish. You risk your life daily for her and what does she give you in gratitude? A lifetime of servitude.”

“Jacine,” I warned, but without resolve.

“Dove.”

“Pet.”

“Tell me you’ll think about it.” She was inches from me now, but respectfully distant. She moistened her lips, and it reminded me of a time when I’d done that for her. “You owe her nothing,” she said.

“Please stop talking like that.”

“I miss you,” she added, hopeful.

“And I, you, love.”

“Can’t you perhaps put me in one of these spheres, and I can come with you?”

“What, and give up your corporeal body?”

She shrugged hopelessly. “At this point, I don’t even care.”

“But you’ve spent eons enhancing those three-dimensional molecules. That body has been primed for evolutionary upgrades. If you leave all that behind, you’d be starting at the beginning, and that’s if you can find a new body to meld with at all. They might be empty at the institute. You could end up coasting in the ether for years, slowly disintegra—”

“Yes!” Jacine cut me off. “I know all that, but—”

“But the fact remains the same. She comes first and always has. I have a feeling this will be over soon. You’ll get your just rewards. Wait a little longer.” As the words came out of my mouth, I knew with absolute certainty that I’d never betray Sephie. Never. I was in her corner until the end, even if she didn’t know it.

Jacine turned away, the hurt in her eyes palpable. “For once, I’d like to come first.”

Her words broke the temporary hold she had over me, and I laughed. “The Goddess of Love never coming first? Un-bloody-believable.”

“Shut up.”

“I’ll bet you came first many times over.” I wiggled my eyebrows.

“I said, shut up.” Jacine gathered a silver tray and began counting spheres onto it. Each had a little name tag that dangled when it moved.

“In fact, I can remember when you and I were in a juicy little hot-spring in Iceland, and you came first. And second. And possibly third, but I’m a bit hazy on that.”

She tried to hide her smile rather unsuccessfully.

I joined her counting out the baubles and said quietly, “Jacine? I’ll talk to the Queen. And in the mean time, there’s something I need you to do for me. It will go a long way to help prove that you’ve done your penance.”

She glanced at me from the corner of my eye.

“This is of the utmost importance. I’m giving you leave to exit the London Ludus.”

Now she fully turned to face me, focus etched on her features. “Really?”

“Yes. I agree with you, you’ve been down here long enough. I think you’ve learned your lesson about fraternizing with and manipulating the Simons.”

“I have.”

“Right, so…” I stalled and licked my lips.

Jacine placed warm her hand on mine. “What is it?”

“There is someone who needs protection and help.”

While she waited expectedly, I mentally argued with myself. If I asked her to protect Little Red, it could be entirely too obvious. But if I asked her to protect the hunter, then it’s possible Little Red would be safe as a sideways result. With my absence, I didn’t want to take any chances. I couldn’t live with myself if I returned and Little Red was gone. I’d already been complacent and negligent. Now someone had discovered she could move through the in-between with me.

“Marc?” Jacine said.

“Jacine, this is highly confidential. If you do this, I have no doubt that you will be rewarded heavily.”

“I’m listening.”

“The hunter needs your protection.”

“The hunter?” She frowned. “What’s so special about him?”

“He’s the Queen’s enforcer, reborn.”

For a moment, Jacine’s eyes looked inwards as she tried to make the relevant connections. When she caught Marc’s eyes, her own were glistening. “Oh my gods, he’s alive.”

“Exactly. You can see how protecting him and following his orders will please the Queen.”

Her hand fluttered to her throat. “Yes. I know more than anyone what that relationship meant.”

I had no doubt she spoke the truth. I could see it in her aura and knew she’d always been able to sense the emotions related to love, but I didn’t give two-hoots about that love. I only wanted Sephie protected, and this was the best way to do it.

“You follow his orders, no matter what, yes?”

“You can trust me with his life.”

I stood silent for a minute and studied her energy. At the time of her words, she meant it. That was the best I was able to do.

“Good. I’m also reinstating your status to the Tribunal. You won’t just be a member, but a leader. You’ll have sway. And-ah… you won’t need me to think about you-know-what anymore, yeah?”

Her eyes widened, and she looked away. I couldn’t be sure but I thought I saw a tear in her eye.

“Jacine, you don’t still want me to…”

She sighed. “Marc, it’s just that I’m done with this false life. And I want to start a family. A real one, not a soulless one that get’s used up for this stupid Game.”

“Well, you know who to blame for that, don’t you?”

“Yes.” The malice in her eyes was clear.

“Bloody tosser Prince. Maybe start the process in uncovering his whereabouts too.”

I considered sharing Eve’s news about his demise, but held it in. The Prince. Urser. Both bloody the same. Instead, I placed a palm against the back of her warm neck and kissed the top of her head.

Silently she nodded. “Right. These have been weighed. You can start here. When you come back, I’ll have the team get another lot ready before I go.”

“Cheers, love.”

“I’ll see you when you get back.”

I stepped through the in-between and within moments arrived somewhere in Tasmania, Australia. My feet formed in the icy water of the ocean, and as I walked through the water toward the shore, the crisp night air tickled my skin. I didn’t need to look up to see the sky was awash with the floating green and magenta lights of the Aurora Australis. My skin lit up with phosphorescence, reflected from the sky above and the calm waters below. The last time I had been here was with the Queen on the night I returned her to the Empire.

The ghosts of my past rose swiftly to remind him of how cowardly I’d behaved been back then. I could still hear the devastation in her long keening wail as she splashed around the icy waters, wanting desperately to get back. She’d pounded her fists on my chest, she’d screamed obscenities at me, she even used her power on me but I’d shifted to another spot every time. Wordlessly, I’d taken her fury because that’s all I knew to do. Just like when we were young, and she’d heard about her betrothal to the ruthless man who one day became King, and father of her son. Then after suffering countless years under the tyrant, he was assassinated. She finally found happiness with her hunter. This planet was her chance at a fresh start. Instead of wallowing in self-pity, she funneled her resources into creating life. Pity her son didn’t feel the same. The darkness had tainted his soul.

The entire debacle was a travesty.

Especially what the Prince had done to the innocent here on Earth. In one day—one hour!—she’d lost her family, her creations, and her new love. She lost it all to her only son. When I took her home to the Empire, I knew the hunter would unleash his devil inside to stop the darkness from spreading, even if it cost him his life. The Queen stood on those shores giving me everything she had because she knew she would never see her hunter again.

I watched her rage. I knew nothing else to do, but to let her come at me. Everyone envied me when my ability to teleport evolved into existence. They said I must be doing something right for the Universe to reward me so. But I knew the truth. All those years in my childhood where I raced Sephie, watching her ponytail fly before me, an inch away. I never caught up because I wanted to lose. To fade. I’d gotten these powers because they helped me run away.

Now I was doing penance for my cowardice: endless trips between the Empire and Earth, carrying the souls of delegates, holding their lives in my hands. One slip wrong and I’d be responsible for the loss of lives so fundamental that I’d devolve like the Soul-Eaters did. I’d lose the advantage I’d clawed back from working tirelessly on this planet.

I checked my reflection in the water. Gone was my Hollywood smile, my skintight threads, and cocky gleam in my eye. My hair was disheveled, and I saw not a god, but a simple man, afraid and alone. Simple, like the Simons. A small wave breached my reflection and warped my mirror image into something unrecognizable.

I held up my collection of tiny glass baubles then glanced up at the wavering green sky. The Aurora’s beauty held more than an aesthetic delight for me. The recent solar storm had injected enough plasma into the atmosphere and the charged atoms were ready to boost me forward—home.

Cash

The town car pulled into the driveway of my family’s old plantation home. It was heritage listed and situated on fifty acres of sprawling meadows with peach and magnolia trees. Since we’d dropped James off at the clinic and called the orphanage, Roo had given me the cold shoulder. She was retreating into herself. That was fine. I didn’t need her to like me to keep her safe.

I paid the driver while Roo stood staring up at the majestic white oak doors, painted pink in the sunset. The door opened and out ran a small boy with golden ringlets, wearing a Transformer costume.

“Tommy!” the boy cried as he zoomed passed Roo and bowled into me with an oomph!

“No, buddy. It’s Cash.” I bent down and pulled the boy in for a hug.

“You wanna play with me? I got another costume inside, let’s go!”

I grinned, kids were resilient as ever.

“I need to go and say hi to ma, is she inside? Roo here might play with you.”

I enjoyed the sight of Roo flashing her heart stopping smile at the kid. Pity it wasn’t aimed at me.

“Hey, I’m Roo. What’s your name?”

The boy cowered behind my legs.

“It’s okay Augustus, she won’t bite.”

Augustus squinted at her like a pirate. “She won’t, but the others might.”

I caught the stammer in Roo’s pulse as she reacted to the boy’s words. Strange. As though she was nervous about his words.

“I can promise you, Augustus, nobody here will bite you,” Roo said.

Augustus smiled and stepped out. “I turned five. I have new shoes. Do you want to see?”

“Sugar! You’re finally here.” My mother appeared at the door frame and upon seeing her new arrivals, rushed out the door. With tears in her eyes, she made a bee-line for me and pulled my body into a crushing embrace, then hastily apologized for the flour she’d dusted over me from her apron. I thought for a moment she’d gone gray, but realized it was the flour in her blonde hair giving her a weathered look.

“Oh Cash, it’s been too long. Too long. I’m so glad you’re home.”

“I’m sorry we missed the funeral, ma.”

“Sugar, I understand,” she said in a knowing voice. She tightened her embrace, and it brought tears to my eyes. This woman, this earthly mother had showed no bounds in the depths of her understanding. My heart swelled, and for the second time in my life, I thought this must be what love felt like. I’d been a fool to avoid it.

I pulled away and looked at Roo. My mother lifted her wire rimmed glasses and wiped her eyes then turned to her, too.

“Oh my stars, this fine young lady must be Miss. Urser. Well, if I live and breathe. I never guessed how pretty you were when we spoke on the phone. The video call didn’t do you justice. You might not recognize me, all covered in flour, but I’m Betsy. Well, don’t just stand there, sugar, come on in and give me a hug, and then let’s get out of this cold.” Roo blushed, and they embraced.

While she probably thought I couldn’t hear, my mother said, “Tommy’s told me so much about you and I’m so blessed for you looking out for my sons.”

“But…” Roo said, her voice trailing off. My own throat tightened. I knew what she was thinking. Tommy. She hadn’t looked after him at all, but, she had. I rubbed the pain in my chest away. She’d made me whole.

“Don’t start,” my mother warned Roo. “I know as much as anyone that the good Lord has taken the control of some things out of our hands. All we can do is our best with what we’ve got.”

I knew they’d spoken a few times over the phone, but I was unprepared for how familiar they both were around each other. They traded news about nothing for a second before my mother shooed her youngest.

“Augustus go and tell your father that Cash is here.”

Augustus grabbed Roo’s hand and spirited her away.

Betsy turned and slapped me on the cheek. Hard. Her face wilted as the resounding crack echoed in the air. “That’s for Tommy.”

There was nobody in the world who could make me cower, except this woman. She was a little on the plump side, had clothes covered in flour, yet she could cut me down with one look. I bit my lip at the reprimand and avoided eye contact. I deserved it. She tilted my chin, so I looked down into her tearful eyes.

“Now, not another word about it or else I’ll fall apart. I know it wasn’t your fault, but goddamn it, son, I’m still devastated.”

“I know, ma, I’m—”

“I said not another word. Let’s remember Tommy fondly. It’s all I can do to keep it together. I made his favorite stew. Let’s go.”

Braised Lamb. Delicious.

She slipped her arm through mine and pulled me towards the house, and stage whispered. “You didn’t tell me how gorgeous she was. It’s about time you brought a girl home, honey. It’s just a pity it had to take dire circumstances for you to do it.”

“It’s not like that, ma. We’re just friends.” Hopefully. Maybe. I didn’t know anymore.

“Don’t be silly. I may be going blind but I can still see the way you look at her when you think she’s not watching, and she you. Well c’mon, we’d better get going or else this braised lamb will up itself and walk out the kitchen.”

I smiled tightly and followed her into the enormous Bed and Breakfast converted home. I thought I would feel less attached to my birth family with all the past lives crammed into my mind, but I felt the same. That warmth spreading from my chest was surely affection.

“Now, I vacated the premises for the weekend, so you can both stay in the guest room upstairs, and—oh, Ray, look who’s here!”

I shook my stepfather’s soft hand and couldn’t help drawing the comparison between my biological father. Where Ray was round and gentle, my father had been tall and solid. Weathered from hard work.

“Howdy Cash, didn’t think you’d be back.” The insinuation was there. My mother may have forgiven me for missing the funeral, but Ray hadn’t. I didn’t blame him.

“We had a boat load of people through after the funeral. I’d appreciate a hand to move some downstairs furniture around,” Betsy added to me.

I spent the evening helping Ray shift the furniture in the downstairs living room while Roo spent time with my mother, setting the rest of the house in order.

While I worked, I couldn’t help thinking about Roo’s indifference towards me. It was more uncomfortable than anger. At least if she’d yelled or screamed, I would know she felt something. At this rate, I worried she was just going through the motions until we left the next evening for Australia. Back to the Sydney Ludus, her father, and the trials.

* * *

After dinner, I stood in the hallway outside Roo’s room. I took a deep breath and held it. I didn’t know what sort of reception I’d find inside. Her countenance towards me over the meal had been frosty to say the least. She’d responded to my questions with short, polite answers but otherwise engaged in joyful chit-chat with my mother. The contrast was obvious. My mother had given me a curious sideways glance more than once.

But I’d taken it in my stride. I hadn’t been deterred. Even when Augustus announced he was ready for bed and Ray jumped at the chance to read a bed time story, leaving only the three of us sitting awkwardly at the table. When the two women got up to clear the mess, I helped. When they started stacking the dishwasher, I helped too. And after everything was spick-and-span, we retired to the sitting room with a pot of tea. My mother had raised her eyebrows at me as she and Roo sat opposite each other on the two-seater settee. I took the hint. Three’s a crowd. I retired to my room to shower and dress for bed.

I found our luggage sitting on my king-sized bed. Ray had obviously assumed we’d be staying together.

Roo wouldn’t like that.

I swiftly checked the room opposite mine and found it empty. A large, four-poster antique bed sat in the middle, opposite a flat screen television. A matching antique desk and settee sat in front of a window that overlooked the moonlit peach orchard. I put Roo’s bag on the bed and flicked on the lights, dimming them until a nice ambience was felt. Then I turned the heating on.

That was thirty minutes ago. I was now washed and dressed in casual sweat pants and a T-shirt, standing alone in the hallway between our rooms. My bare feet flexed on the plush carpet and I could hear the sound of the television, so she was definitely awake.

My pulse skipped a beat at the sound of her feet hitting the floor and walking toward the door. She knew I was here. Quickly, I raised my hand to knock.

A click on the other side meant she had previously locked the door and now unlocked it. The sound of her steps grew fainter as she went back to the bed. What did that mean? I tested the door knob, half expecting it to be locked. The door opened, and I let myself in.

Roo reclined on the bed, half under the covers with the flickering light from the TV illuminating her face. She wore a long-sleeved T-shirt, or something like that on her top half.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi yourself.”

“Okay, listen, can I come in?”

She shrugged.

“What are you watching?”

“You wouldn’t like it.”

“I might.”

“Suit yourself.”

I stepped into the room and closed the door behind me for privacy. I felt ungraceful and as though I didn’t belong, yet I didn’t want to leave and I didn’t know what to do with my hands. They wanted to reach out and touch her, but I held back. Instead, I stood next to her bed. My heart beat loudly over the sound of the TV. Hers was soft and steady. She folded her arms. Awkward. That must be what this emotion was.

Finally, after a long sigh I said, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for earlier.” Her snort was my only response. “And I want you to know I’m not going to leave.”

Air rushed out of her nostrils so fast they flared. She shook her head. “I don’t know how you expect me to trust you.”

“Can I sit?”

She answered by shifting to one side of the bed without taking her eyes off the screen.

“Honestly, I don’t deserve your trust, but I’m not going to leave.” I sat down on the edge of the bed. When Roo’s folded arms tightened until she hugged herself and leaned away, my heart broke. I did that. My lies had put a wall between us where only a day ago, there had been none. But fuck it. I would tear that wall down if it was the last thing I did.

“I’m not going anywhere. Not until… until—”

“Until what, you die?”

“Yes.”

The flickering light highlighted her newly glistening eyes, her pulse quickened.

“I can’t even…” she sighed. “I can’t talk to you right now, I’m sorry. I need to think. Can you please go?”

I swallowed heavily and stood.

“I’ll go to the other room. But I’m not leaving you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.”

Her coldness turned the blood in my veins to ice.

Cash

I sank into a heavy, fitful sleep that night. I dreamed often. Some was of a past earthly life, some were snatches of time before I came to the planet. But one dream, the one that kept repeating, was of the night I split my soul.

It was just after Marc had taken the Queen back to the Empire, and I had been using the flaming swords Marc spoke about. Maybe I imagined them, but maybe not. They were a scorching extension of each hand and I used them to cut down anybody that smelled necrotic.

They say you don’t dream in sound, or smell, but I did. I always did. I heard their screams rip through time as clearly as if it happened right now. I smelled the rotting flesh as though it were next to me in the room. I remembered plowing through a field of bodies, unleashing my inner rage like a wave of destruction at anything moving in my way. I hated the killing. I resented it. If she had taken my word at the beginning, I would never have been in that position.

Somewhere behind me was the Prince, creating more dark creatures to replace the ones I cut down. When he ran out of humans, he turned to the soldiers. My friends. My comrades. The pioneer Seraphim left on the planet had come out of their simple houses, stumbling, shocked at what was happening. I would roar at them. Hurry, stop them. Help. But half the Seraphim weren’t warriors, they were alchemists, cartographers, anthropologists. They didn’t know what to do when their trusted soldiers turned on them in a black gritty terror. It was different with infected Seraphim, they weren’t so beastly, but dangerous all the more. Harder to kill.

Self preservation kicked in, and many of them went into hiding, many ran for the star-gate.

And the strange part of it was, through the chaos, I could see the emissaries from other quadrants of the Empire watching with a smirk on their faces from a safe distance, almost as if they were unafraid, as if they knew. They wanted the peace experiment to fail because if it failed, the Queen was not fit to rule and she could be challenged. There were those that wanted the prime piece of real estate called Earth for themselves.

This was a coup.

A few Seraphim gathered their belongings and scurried toward the dock where the enormous star-gate would take them home. Cowards.

A creature caught up to me, gnashing its black teeth, latching onto my leg through my uniform. I kicked it off. Pain seared up my body. I swept out my right arm, sword igniting a trail to cut through its demented body. The stench of flesh and hair rose into the air, tainting it thick with disease. The twisted human dropped soullessly to the ground, a steaming pile of forgotten atoms. My sword hummed and crackled in victory. Another animal thudded towards me, with heaving breaths, loud and wet. I manifested a twin sword in my other hand and spun my body, using the momentum to swing both swords in unison, slicing through the body and the head, splitting it into gruesome pieces. I knew the onslaught would keep coming until either I was dead, the Prince was dead, or there were no beings left to turn. And I was tiring. Sometimes, as I laid waste to the mindless animals around me, I would see a flicker of life in their black eyes. A sparkle of sentience. And I would hesitate, a flash of doubt crashing through my mind. My power would flicker like a disturbed current lighting a globe.

Why was I doing this? For Her?

For the Empire?

For the goodness of all Seraphim and human kind?

A feeling of sickness rose from the pit of my stomach.

I was tired.

My arms drooped to the floor, muscles aching, swords dimming.

In the distance, through the mud caused by the black bloody rain that had sprayed from the cut down creatures, the Prince stalked towards me, a feral smile on his face.

Cold realization stole over me. I could end it all in one fell swoop if I ended the Prince. Ended him completely and entirely so he could never return to taint the world anew. There weren’t many creatures left, only a few recent creations, and the Prince tired, too. The last reserves of my heated power built inside me, swelling at the idea in approval. It was ready. I was ready.

But if I died, there was no one left to protect the star-gate. The way home was compromised. With the last of the creatures scuttling behind their master, I knew I could take them if I attacked now. Or I could deal with the gate and then take my chances.

My inner power surged and the fiery sword in both hands flared. I whirled and cut down the last remaining bodies in my way, then ran for the gate.

It was a large stone like square that had a frame extending to a distant point, like the bottom of a hollowed out fallen pyramid. The entry was from the bottom, the square.

Two technicians dialed while a small group of Seraphim stood by, frantically checking their luggage, ready to evacuate.

When I arrived, I said nothing. I shut down the dial-up sequence. When the technicians protested, I cut their innocent heads off and let them drop and roll. When other Seraphim opened their mouths to call for help, I navigated the computer’s mainframe to remove all approved biological users, all except one: The Queen.

By her blood only could she open the door to their world. And I safely had her removed from this plane.

I placed my palms on the dashboard and released my fire. The smell of smoking wires and chemicals scorched my nose. Nobody would open that gate any time soon.

“What have you done?” Alkeimon growled from behind me.

I whirled and faced him, swords at the ready on either side of me. “You’re hereby quarantined to this planet by decree of the Queen. You will remain so until further notice.”

“Open it.”

“I can’t.”

Behind me, shadows moved. Other Seraphim, finally prompted into action, surrounded me. These weren’t alchemists, these were the emissaries, the soldiers from our neighboring star-systems who had come to investigate the worthiness of the planet before allowing their delegates access to the living library.

“Open it,” a deep voice said from behind him. I shot a glance over my shoulder and recognized a man from the brutal Ursa Constellation.

“It has been destroyed,” I said.

A roar of defiance broke from the Prince’s lungs as he lunged towards me. Together with his evil minions, the Prince swarmed on me and took me down. They held my arms flayed wide.

Alkeimon leaned in until his dark and twisted face was all I could see. “Then fix it.”

I spat at him.

The response was a crack to my right arm as it was broken at the shoulder by the Prince. I grit my teeth at the pain. It didn’t matter. I’d done my job. The Queen was safe. The Empire was safe.

“You can all rot here as far as I’m concerned,” I said thorough a clenched jaw. Heated flame licked up my broken arm and swelled in my body, igniting my insides, increasing in pressure, a volcano about to erupt.

Alkeimon broke my other arm. “Fix it.”

I laughed through the searing white heat. “Even if I could, the gate will only work for one person. And that is not me.”

“You filthy man-whore,” spat the brat Prince.

“Come closer and say that.” Although I lay broken, I was not beaten. My power swelled and bubbled beneath my skin, ready for one last swing, one to end anything in its way. “Come closer, murderer,” I whispered. “And I will tell you who can open it.”

That’s right. I know your secret.

Alkeimon’s eyes widened momentarily in recognition, then he narrowed his gaze and took me around the throat. My skin seared where our touch met, but the Prince ignored the pain if he felt any.

“That’s enough,” a gruff voice said from somewhere beyond. All I could see was the diseased eyes of a sick man staring down at me. “I said, that’s enough.”

Alkeimon’s grip loosened slightly. Who was this man that he could order a prince around?

I realized in that moment that the Prince had not been working alone. He was being controlled. This deception and treason ran far deeper than I had anticipated. Panic twisted my building power into something else, something that took a life of its own, something that ran on instinct.

I exploded. Every molecule inside me separated, taking anything nearby with me into the ether. But while I somehow knew I wasn’t living anymore, I felt a sense of peace, a sense I didn’t have to be that soldier anymore. I could go a separate way.

* * *

I awoke in my bed at the Bed and Breakfast, the sheets smoking under my touch. The smell of smoldering cotton mixed with sweat in my olfactory. My latent power had activated and was reaching for the surface. Thankfully I hadn’t set the house on fire.

I sat up in the darkness, heart pounding loud, and swung my legs off the side. Images were still raw in my mind. I hated myself for all that murder, and I hated the Queen for making me do it, but most of all, I hated that part of me enjoyed it—the violence.

At least this time I hadn’t hurt anyone.

Alone.

No Roo to harm, to hug, or to keep me calm.

She was the Queen.

I didn’t run from that idea as much as I should have. Perhaps because she was the part of her I loved, not the part that unleashed me on the world. No, this was the woman who, after I’d almost killed her, pressed against my spine and tightened her embrace. She told me it would be okay.

I forced myself to relax and took a deep breath.

I would make it okay.

* * *

The Game of Gods series continues with a novel told from the point of view of Roo in Playing God.

Available on Amazon

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Playing God

For my middle sis, Nat. She introduced me to Urban Fantasy. Enough said.

Chapter 1

A Customs Officer stared at me.

I stared back, taking a moment to sense his aura and fish for understanding. It was steady, sharp, and I got the vibe he wasn’t to be trifled with.

“Business or pleasure, Miss”—he glanced at my passport in his hands—“La Roux Urser?”

“Roo.” I corrected him, and… good question. I had no clue. Jed, Cash and I were in Sydney to register for the Game. Seeing as humans had no idea gods existed, let alone played a game using them as pawns, I couldn’t exactly say that.

“Okay, then, Miss Roo, business or pleasure?”

“Ah…”

“Business.” Cash nudged me aside and showed his passport. “Here for a convention.”

“Are you her sponsor?” The Customs Officer asked Cash.

“Yes.”

“Please fill out her customs declaration.”

“I can do that,” I said and went to intercept the card the officer handed to Cash. The officer freaked out. He snatched it back and looked askance at me before handing it to Cash.

“While you’re filling that out,” he said to Cash, “please give me your license and registration.”

Was he serious? I could fill out my own card. Sheesh.

Cash handed over his special license that proved he was, in fact, male and hence immune to witch possession. It also listed me as his female charge.

The man scanned it, waited for something to flash across his computer screen and then indicated to the black rubber band around my ankle. “The GPS.”

“Active,” Cash said.

“Please scan the receiver.”

The man passed a device to Cash who used it to scan my ankle. Something else flashed on the screen before Cash returned the device.

“Good,” the officer said. “Do you accept full responsibility for this female and will ensure that she sticks to the Australian protocols against witches?”

“Yes.”

“You understand the repercussions of failure to uphold these protocols? Could you please recite the maximum punishment under Australian law to prove your understanding?”

Cash’s eyebrow lifted. “You did read the occupation on my license, didn’t you?”

The officer glanced down at the card in his hand. His eyes widened. “Sorry. Please sign here, and here.”

Cash grunted and then signed the declaration presented to him. I guessed being a government sanctioned witch hunter with diplomatic immunity was good for some things.

The officer blushed. “Thank you. Have a nice day, sir. Next.”

Bristling over the complete disregard for my opinion, I followed my two companions through the bustling airport to where our luggage was being unloaded to a conveyor belt. The new laws against women were still hard to swallow.

“That’s yours, Roo,” Jed said and retrieved my bag.

“Thanks.” I smiled at my old probation officer, now friend, as he returned it to me. “I owe you one.”

“You owe me more than one.”

I dug into my jeans and fished out pocket change. “How about two dollars and fifty cents… and”—I slipped off my baseball cap—“my super comfy hat.”

“How about I put it on your tab?” He laughed but took the cap and put it on backwards, making his ears stick out more.

Cash ignored our easy banter and retrieved his luggage from the conveyor. He slung his duffle bag over his shoulder and marched to the exit. Mr. Broody, at it again. He was the only person in the world who could hide his aura from me, which meant I had to guess where this particular flavor of brood originated. Perhaps the twenty-four-hour plane ride, his repetitive lecturing on the Game rules, or maybe, just maybe, it was because he felt bad about lying to me in Houston.

Jed and I jogged after him, catching him before the exit. When the glass doors whooshed open, the summer air slammed into us, thick and stifling. I squinted into the afternoon sun and checked for the taxi rank. It wasn’t far. A few meters away.

Cash handed his bag to Jed. “I’ll go hire a vehicle.”

“I can pay for a cab,” I said and gestured at the taxi rank.

Arrogance shadowed the fleeting surprise and hurt on Cash’s face. Not used to being turned down. I didn’t feel bad. An airport full of bustling people was also rife with erratic auras, and they irritated me. I didn’t have time for brood. Also, relying on the man who’d almost quit on me a few days ago was a mistake, and by quit, I meant the kind of quit where you ended your life. He said it was because of his unpredictable, volatile and unsafe nature. Looking at him now, with the tendons in his jaw flexing, shoulder muscles tensed, eyes unreadable, I believed him.

He was a man people couldn’t help watching. Not because of his incredible manly physique or his handsome face. It was the predatory spark in his dual colored eyes as his gaze swept the room. I used to think the coloring was due to his fractured soul. Perhaps his body didn’t know which past life to believe. He remembered thousands of them. Some gave him the instincts of a warrior, honed from infinite battles in lifetimes of war, others gave him nightmares. He was always vigilant. Always ready.

The unspeakable things he dreamed of haunted his eyes every morning.

My hand fluttered to my throat when a phantom echo of pain coaxed a memory out. A few weeks ago, I had woken him from a nightmare. His response was to crush the first thing in his path—my neck. Lucky for me I had the supernatural healing of a demi-god otherwise it would have been my life that ended. He wouldn’t speak about his nightmares. I didn’t blame him for that and he didn’t scare me. It was the lies that undid me.

My heart squeezed. The frozen stalemate we were in felt like a prison. I much rather liked it when we had our arms passionately wrapped around each other. I sighed—fat chance of that happening again—and dragged my luggage in front of Jed whose eyes darted between me and Cash.

I caught Jed’s gaze. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

The heat of Cash’s stare burned as I returned to the terminal to find a bank teller machine. I found one a few feet from the entrance and joined the line behind a family of four. The two kids, a young boy and a girl, licked their ice-creams and laughed over the chocolate dropping on the boy’s pants. It appeared to be a bathroom mishap. The boy tugged his mother’s shirt and relayed the joke. She tried to wipe the stains away, but smeared them. The little boy said something else, and the entire family laughed. The sound was infectious. I smiled along with them and thought it must be nice to be so innocent and carefree with your loved ones. Something a demi-god like me would never have.

I was put on this planet for one reason only: to play the Game. I was here, I had the soul of a god, therefore I must play the Game or leave. It was a fact I still tried to grasp.

Cash had explained for the millionth time while we traveled from America; A god’s soul downloaded from the intergalactic Seraphim Empire into an earthly body produced by mixed breeding between a god and a human. The original Seraphim’s life memories were wiped clean for the start of each Player’s time here on Earth. Most had no clue they were supernatural until their abilities manifested around adulthood. Then they were registered for the Game at a Ludus Institution, trained and tested. Thanks to my witch-like abilities, they all thought I was a witch, not a Player, so they’d ignored me. Now the truth had been discovered, I was one of them, I had to pass the trials within the next six months. Then I could join the rest of the demi-gods as they played amongst the humans, manipulating, plotting, advancing themselves in society all without revealing their powers to the world. There were so many rules my brain ached. I was already forgetting everything. All I knew for sure was that having a family of my own was forbidden. The only time we were allowed to breed was to make new bodies for new Seraphim souls to inhabit. I was still a little hazy on the exact details of the breeding program, but I knew my father wanted me involved. Not if I could help it.

The gaping hole inside me grew as I watched the perfect family walk away, still laughing. I inserted my card into the machine and emptied my account. I latched onto the money with surprising desperation. It was all I had left.

My last few dollars.

The words churned in my mind. My last few dollars. During our two weeks in America, I’d refused to rely on Cash’s millions and had used all my savings from working at The Cauldron for food, clothes, transport and my ticket home to Australia. I did not want to be beholden to anyone. Cash hadn’t been happy. To him, the amount was a drop in his bank account ocean, but to me, it meant everything. It meant I had control of my life.

A snicker in my mind.

The Others, the souls I’d absorbed, were slowly making me insane. They had something to say about everything. A snide laugh here, a derogatory comment there.

Control is an illusion, they said.

I refused to believe that.

I shoved the fifty dollars into my pocket and returned to my companions. Jed nodded from where he stood leaning against a bench outside. I smiled briefly and hoped he didn’t catch the worry in my eyes, so averted my gaze and surveyed the busy street.

“Where’s Cash?” I asked.

“Hiring a vehicle. Said to stay put.”

“But I wanted to pay for the taxi.” I sat on the edge of my suitcase and considered ignoring his instructions but decided my rebellion was a little over the top. Despite being completely ridiculous, human law said females had to stay with their male sponsors to avoid possession by a witch. Stupid. Yes, witches only possessed females, and if they wanted to do it, they would find a way. Still, an arrest by the human police was a complication I did not need. I shoved my money back in my pocket and set to waiting.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, I’d counted fifteen taxis depart. My foot tapped on the sidewalk.

Jed noticed. “He said it was important. We have to wait.”

“You might be sworn to serve him, but I’m not. I say we leave.” Sweat ran down my chest and dampened my bra. I plucked my collar and pumped it to cool my skin. Summer in Australia was hot. Sweltering. Awesome. Perfect beach weather.

Take the taxi and head down to the beach, The Others teased. You don’t need the Ludus.

I snorted. And miss my registration?

“What’s the rush?” Jed asked.

“I just…” I paused, wondering if I should say something. I felt silly contemplating it. “I’m keen to get going and meet my brother.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You mean the other contender Bruce Urser sired?”

I slumped. “I know it’s stupid, and I know he’s not really my brother, but until a few weeks ago, I didn’t know the Game existed. I thought Bruce was my real father. He acted like one for the first half of my life and then he left me alone with a half-sister who feared me because of my gifts. Finding out I have a brother who is like me is… well, it feels like the chance for a real family.”

Jed scowled. “You’ve never met him and you think he’s your family.”

“I know it’s dumb. I’ve lucked out in the family department my whole life. Surely I’m bound to get some good news soon, right?”

“Family is a waste of time,” Jed said and then replaced his scowl with a mask of indifference. “Anyway, you have to do what Cash says because he’s your mentor. Have you forgotten you’re his progeny?”

I studied Jed, wondering where the anti-family animosity came from. He never spoke much about his past, and I’d assumed it was a Player thing so never pushed it. Maybe there was something more to it. When he didn’t return to the subject, I answered his question. “No, I haven’t forgotten, but that doesn’t mean I have to do what he says.”

“Yes it does.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“Roo, you swore an oath, remember? You may not be registered, but you swore an oath.”

My mind raced back to when I stood in front of Cash in the burning restaurant I used to work in. It had all been so new then. I’d just discovered I wasn’t a witch, but one of them—Nephilim. I was half god, half human, and full of abilities I didn’t understand. Cash had been my anchor, and a sexy one at that. Like every other woman in his life, I found him irresistible. Driven, loyal, unwavering. Never mind the intangible connection I felt between us every time we kissed. So, when he’d taken a knife and sliced our palms, flattening them together, I let him. He made a blood oath and promised to be truthful, protect me and instruct me in the matters of the Game. But he’d lied. He failed one of those pledges when he planned to leave. He wasn’t even going to say goodbye!

As if hearing my thoughts, Jed repeated my side of the oath.

“You pledged to let him be your teacher and confidant until you complete the trials and are released into the Game—”

“Ah-huh!” I jumped, triumphant, and pointed in his face. “Sucked in. That doesn’t say I have to do what he says.”

He rolled his eyes.

“He’s my teacher and I have to confide in him…” I sat on my suitcase and bit my nails.

Confidant, The Others laughed. You simper and whine about his lies, yet you haven’t told him about us. You know it’s because he’ll see you for the monster you are and then there will be no ifs, he’ll leave for good.

An approaching roar brought my attention to the congested airport street, and I peered into the traffic. A figure on a black motorcycle darted in and out of traffic until it purred to a stop in front of us.

Pulling his aviator sunglasses off, Cash lifted the black ball helmet off and hung it on the handlebars, leaving his ruffled blond hair sticking up on end. His hair and stubble had grown in the past few weeks and he’d taken no steps to return it to its former anally retentive style. I liked it.

No I didn’t, damn it, I was angry at him.

But that bike… sex on wheels.

I knew what he was trying to do—butter me up. Make the past two weeks disappear. Well, it wouldn’t work. I pulled out my fifty dollars and took my bag before heading toward the taxi rank.

Cash got off the bike to intercept me, his hand shooting out to take hold of my shoulder.

“Roo, come on. Don’t be stubborn.” He smiled and my heart stopped while my mind scrambled to catch up. I scowled. He widened his grin, clearly liking the effect he had on me.

I hated when he did that—smiled. This new Cash was something to get used to. The untamed animal within him had vanished, replaced by wicked delight. Now and then, proof of his healing soul slipped through the cracks of his fractured demeanor. A wink here, a chuckle there, but this was by far the biggest display of genuine happiness I’d seen, and it was directed at me. It took my breath away.

“Come on, Roo.” He squeezed my shoulder and dipped to catch my eyes. “I meant it when I said I was going to stay. I’m not leaving you when you need me the most. You can’t be mad at me forever. Especially when you can drive.”

My breath hitched. “Monster.”

Alarm flashed in his eyes. “What?”

I glanced past his shoulder at the sleek, black ride. Bigger and more powerful than my old Suzuki dirt bike. The sight of it made me weak at the knees. I sighed wistfully. I missed my old bike, but the beast in front of me… I nodded at the motorcycle and whistled appreciatively. “Ducati Monster Twelve Hundred R. With a Testastretta eleven degree Desmodromic twin-cylinder engine.”

“I wouldn’t know about that. The guy at the shop said it was the fastest and the safest.” Cash retrieved the helmet and handed it to me. “Sit on it. Test it out.”

“A hundred and sixty horsepower.” Excitement stirred my insides, making my heart pump at an alarming rate. Suddenly, I wasn’t angry at him anymore. I thought I could forgive him for anything in that moment. Almost. Then I remembered something devastating.

“But…” I glanced at the GPS ankle monitor on my leg. Stupid protocols against witches. More like protocols against women. “I’m not allowed to drive. The restrictions say women can’t drive. You know that—don’t tease me.” I handed the helmet back to him.

“I’m not teasing. I’d rather not drive with my condition. You know a seizure can come at any moment. We have a legitimate medical reason if anyone asks.”

His condition. It was another thing he’d kept from me in Houston. His body wasn’t healing like a Nephilim anymore. The thought of him weakening hurt, but the fact he tried to keep it from me hurt more.

“You haven’t had an attack since your eyesight returned two weeks ago. I think it’s safe for you to drive with a passenger.”

“Humor me okay?” His eyes softened. He shifted the long hair catching around my ears, so it wouldn’t fly in my face when we rode, and then tugged the helmet over my head. The graze of his touch on my neck caused a stir in my belly. For an eternal breath, we gazed into each other’s eyes. Then he got on the bike and put on his own helmet.

“See you back at the Ludus, Jed,” Cash said.

My jaw dropped. I’d been so blinded by the beauty of the bike I’d failed to comprehend there was only one. Jed would not fit. Neither would the luggage. I turned to Jed, intending to apologize, but he had already flagged down a cab a few feet away.

“Don’t worry, I got your luggage,” he called and turned back to his game of luggage Tetris in the back seat.

I knew he’d declared for Cash’s House, but I still felt uncomfortable at Jed’s blind servitude. I didn’t understand it. It didn’t sit right. But perhaps this was the way all Players behaved with the heads of their Houses.

I faced the bike—the sexy, powerful bike. Could I really ride it? It ran on more horsepower than my old bike, and I’d never driven one this big before. Sure I’d lusted after it in Road Rider magazine, but it was a big step up in raw power. Sweat prickled my temples, and I swallowed.

“Why?” I breathed.

“Maybe it’s a peace offering,” he conceded, fidgeting with the strap on his helmet.

So he wasn’t ignoring the past two weeks and, from the way his body tensed, waiting for me to respond, it was clear he still struggled with his new emotions. Not hard to believe considering a few weeks ago he’d never felt them in the first place.

“A peace offering,” I repeated and straddled the bike in front of him. I couldn’t believe he expected forgiveness so soon after his betrayal. It was almost insulting. Yet, The Others were right. I lied to him as well, and if—when—he found out… I didn’t want to think of it. Instead, I lied again: “I can live with that.”

I tapped the lifeless digital screen. Embarrassingly, nothing happened. After spouting nerdy bike talk, I should know how to start it. Eventually, Cash cleared his throat. His hand slipped around my middle, at my stomach, and pulled so he was flush against me. He leaned around me to push a keyless start button. The engine roared to life. I gave him a flustered thumbs-up.

He didn’t relinquish his hold around my middle and I wasn’t entirely sure I was upset with that. He gave a little squeeze to signal his readiness.

I pulled on the throttle and sent us into hyper-drive with a squeal of delight.

Chapter 2

Cash directed me into the heart of Sydney. When we pulled into the Opera House parking lot, I thought he wanted to do a little sightseeing. He instructed me to find a particular parking bay towards the rear of the lot. Very specific. The last row, third on the right. Reserved.

“We’re here,” he said.

I cut the engine and made to move off the bike, but he splayed his fingers at my stomach and held tight.

“Don’t move. Just wait.” He scanned the area and, once satisfied we weren’t being watched, lifted a hand to make a hand signal at the concrete wall in front of us. Two CCTV cameras moved to face us, and then an opaque gray digital barrier flashed into view around the boundary of the parking space. It was as though four solid walls sprung into being around us, and yet I heard the echoes of the parking garage beyond. The floor shuddered and moved. The bike wobbled. I clutched on for dear life.

“Earthquake.” The word shot out of my mouth.

Cash’s forehead landed between my shoulder blades and his laugh rumbled through my back.

“Great to see I’m such a source of humor for you,” I grumbled.

He patted me. “Just relax.”

Like a puzzle piece unplugging, the parking space detached from its holding and lowered to the level below.

The Ludus was underground.

When the elevator stopped, we slid off the bike as the gray digital wall flickered and disappeared to reveal a vast sub-level garage. An attendant in a red uniform greeted us and wheeled our vehicle away.

I expected a sporting complex, or learning institute, but not an underground maze.

Cash led me through the shadowy garage to a set of large glass double doors. The words “Ludus Australianus” were engraved on a plaque set overhead. Above the plaque was a wooden carving of a dragon, or maybe a serpent, eating its own tail. Beyond the doors, I could see a tiled foyer and a young man sitting behind an administration counter with a Bluetooth earpiece in.

“It’s a reminder that our lives here are part of a longer, never ending cycle,” Cash said, nodding to the carving. “It’s a warning, that if you break the rules, the Tribunal will have no problem canceling your game. Your life here is finite, but your soul is not. Just remember that next time you have the urge to break a rule.”

“I don’t break rules!”

His sardonic look shut me up. “You’ve used your abilities in public many times already. Caught on camera if I remember correctly. You’re lucky you weren’t registered when that happened, you would have been canceled. Your ignorance has saved you so far, but soon that won’t be the case.”

“Okay, maybe I do break the rules but, in my defense, I didn’t know them. I was also protecting myself. And they’re stupid.”

“The Tribunal doesn’t think so.”

I huffed. Of course he would argue with me. He was the Queen’s Enforcer, after all. I would imagine that vocation had been all about holding people to the rules. A pang of jealousy stabbed me at the thought of him belonging to someone else. Not just anyone else. Her. They were lovers, and probably would be again. I was a Soul-Eater. A nobody. But this wasn’t the Empire, it was the Game. I had to stay focused.

“I thought Marc was the Gamekeeper. Isn’t he in charge of enforcing the rules?” I said.

“Yes, he is in charge, but sometimes he’s not here. When that happens, Tribunal law applies. The point is, when you die in this form, your soul will wake in Purgatory and move into hibernation until returned to the Empire. So, if you want to survive this, don’t break the rules. Go along with it for now, and when we get past all this, you can carry on as you wish. Let’s go.”

Having had enough of the chit-chat, Cash strode toward the entrance and I scurried to catch up. Glass doors whooshed open for us to enter the cold, marble lobby. The administration guy punched away at his computer keyboard and spoke into his headset. He didn’t take his wide-eyes off me.

Seeing me pause with a gaping mouth, Cash steered me to the desk. The room was small and the carnations on top of the counter gave off a sweet, heady perfume. Two solid wooden doors flanked either side of the counter. One had the label of “Registrar” the other “Ludus”.

I became engrossed in the facial expression of the man sitting behind the ornate, oak desk. He looked at me with eyes that popped out of his head and he shrank a few inches in his chair. His aura skittered around like it was on steroids. Afraid.

“Cash Samson and La Roux Urser,” Cash stated.

“I know who you are. Just one minute, and someone will come and show you to your rooms.”

We sat down on a waiting bench.

I tapped my fingers on my thigh. Cash eyed off the admin guy fiddling with his computer, preparing to make a call.

A few seconds ticked by and then Cash spoke quietly to me. “Roo, we spoke on the plane about the dire consequences of failing the trials.”

“Yeah. I get canceled and returned to the Empire. Pretty sure I get the direness of that.”

“There’s more.”

I chewed on my lip for a minute. “What do you mean?”

He took a deep breath. “Bruce Urser is the queen’s brother in law. He is your father—your sire. That makes your body royal. There are different rules and responsibilities for royals on earth.”

“I’m pretty sure I know this already. I’m confused.”

“Back in Margaret River, after your father visited, you said you wouldn’t kick up a fuss about your royal duties. I don’t think you understand exactly what you agreed to.”

“Oh.” It dawned on me. “You’re talking about the breeding thing. Look, I just said that to make him go away. There’s no way I’d actually go through with it.”

“You might not have a choice.”

“They can’t force me to do anything. You said once I passed the trials, I can declare independent from the Urser House, and play the Game my way. That means I don’t have to agree to do anything.”

“That is true. If you pass the trials.”

Silence descended as the gravity of his meaning hit me. “Then I guess I’d better pass.”

His hand shot out to grasp mine and our eyes met. “Pass or fail, I want you to know I won’t let that happen. You might not believe me yet, but I’m not going anywhere. I promise you won’t have to face that consequence. Here, I want to give you something.” He fished into his pocket, but froze suddenly. His head cocked to the side as he listened intently to something I couldn’t hear. Eavesdropping with his advanced senses.

The admin spoke behind his hand into his phone. Cash could hear both sides of the conversation but I heard the admin guy clear enough: “Sir, you asked me to call you when they arrived, well, they’re here.”

Cash stiffened and a dangerous intensity crept into his posture, sending me on high alert.

The door to the Ludus burst open and a string of security personnel entered. Five big men in suits with ear-pieces filed around us. We both jumped up. Cash moved to stand in front of me. Was this the Tribunal?

“We’re here to escort Ms. Urser to her family suite.” The closest Suit spoke to Cash. He had a familiar face. Dark skin. Head shaved. He was the soldier who attended my father in Margaret River a few weeks ago. So… not Tribunal. I think his name had something to do with fish.

Squid. His name was Squid.

“Urser House forfeited ties to this contender when its leader failed to complete the mentor-progeny ritual and register her on time. I’m her mentor now, he has no say in where she goes, besides, this is the Ludus—neutral territory—she goes where she wants.” Cash flexed his fists, cracking knuckles.

Each man held an expression of contained control, but an explosive atmosphere crept into the air through the action in their auras. They sized up Cash and myself. Five against two. My insides tensed in expectation. A glance at the admin boy had him doing the same—eyes glued to us, on the edge of his seat.

Squid’s jaw set. “Hunter, if you interfere, you will be apprehended, and we will take her by force.”

I side-stepped Cash so Squid could see me. Maybe I could diffuse the situation. “Look, I know I promised I would meet my father here, but I’d like to get settled first and then I’ll see him.”

“No. You come now.” Squid put a hand on my arm.

Cash burst into brutal action, intercepting him. It all happened so fast. Two men pulled guns on Cash. A third and a fourth held his arms, well, attempted to hold his arms. With blinding speed, and deadly efficiency, he twisted out of their grasp and retaliated with a right hook to the Suit on his left. The sound of cheekbones crunching echoed through the small room.

The heel of Cash’s palm met the next guy’s nose, and then it was three men on one. Unwilling to fire in a confined space, the two guys with guns put their weapons away readying themselves to assist in Cash’s apprehension.

Their blatant disregard for me had napalm surging through my blood. How dare they dismiss me as an opponent? Sure Cash was a formidable force, but I was too. My fingers heated on instinct, ready to unleash. Electricity crackled and the smell of ozone hit my nose. I stepped toward the brawl.

A firm hand on my shoulder pulled me back.

“Come,” Squid said. “This way.”

I hadn’t noticed him detaching from the group.

“Don’t touch me,” I growled and slapped my hand over his. Energy released.

Nothing.

I tried to peel his fingers from my shoulder, but they wouldn’t budge. What the hell was this guy made from? I kicked him in the shins and my foot glanced off. The only sign I’d hurt him was a slight twitch between his brows. He moved his free hand to grasp my hair and tugged. Pain lanced through my scalp and I cried out.

“Get off me,” I shouted. My voice came out higher than I’d intended, a traitor to my nerves. I gripped the solid stumps holding my hair in a vice. I couldn’t move him.

“Roo,” Cash called from behind me, face red with strain. Three pairs of arms imprisoned him on the floor, and a bloody faced man held a gun at his temple. Not afraid to shoot now.

Cash stopped struggling and a cold fury enveloped him. A thousand thoughts flittered behind his eyes as he caught sight of Squid’s grip on me. He calculated something I wasn’t sure I wanted to know and suddenly I was afraid. Not for me, but for the fall out of whatever he planned to do. I couldn’t explain it. Just a feeling.

“It’s okay,” I said, imploring with my eyes.

Whatever he was going to do… don’t.

“Don’t,” I warned. He frowned, confused. I had to make him understand so used the words he’d used on me only minutes before. “I’ll be fine. Go along with it for now.” And then when we get past this, we can carry on as you wish.

When he visibly relaxed, so did I.

I let Squid pull me away by the hair. Sharp needles stabbed into my scalp and I had to scurry to avoid being left bald.

“You can’t do this,” Cash called out. “Marc won’t have it.”

“The Gamekeeper isn’t here,” Squid replied and pushed open the door to the Ludus, tugging me through.

Chapter 3

Squid pulled me by the hair away from Cash. The sound of the heavy wooden door closing muffled the scuffling of my feet. My jaw clenched and my muscles hardened. There was no way I would let this guy manhandle me, not in the name of my father. My fingertips sparked, and I flung my energy at him, not caring if he’d take half my scalp when my power connected.

Electricity crackled as it flew and sizzled in the direction of his chest.

He didn’t let go. He didn’t even flinch. He did, however, pause and arch an irate eyebrow at me. “Did you try to zap me?”

“That’s not the only thing I can do.”

He tightened his grip on my hair.

“I’m not afraid of you, little Soul-Eater.” His voice rumbled through my mind like thunder. “I have no soul for you to manipulate.”

My abilities were exactly that—soul based. I could sap someone’s energy. I could swallow their soul. I could even use my life-force to shock others, or telekinetically move items… but if he had no soul for me to connect with. Not good. My gut cramped. My breath quickened.

But everybody had a soul. I dug deep and focused hard on his aura. Sure enough, I felt it, small and weak. Almost gone. But there.

Knowledge bubbled to the surface of my mind, and bright symbols cascaded beneath my eyelids. The Book of the Dead spoke, reminding me of the knowledge I absorbed when I ate the soul of Petra’s Grimoire. The Others stirred. So they should. Petra and her Grimoire made up half of the souls inside me. A third was the witch I absorbed at birth. The last was my sister.

The symbols flashed. The light was painful, but the understanding they brought opened my eyes to the truth. There was a way to trap souls inside a glass object. Either a mirror or something with a reflection could take the essence of a person and trap it inside. What was left was a being without fear or pain, without regret, and without consequence. Whether this man had chosen to have his soul separated from his physical body was another question, but the result was the same. There was little I could do that he’d care about.

“Now, it doesn’t have to be this way,” Squid said. “I want to take you to your family quarters. You are not a prisoner, but if you resist, you will be treated as such.”

Not a prisoner my ass.

“You don’t want this to be the first impression you make to your brother, do you? A kicking screaming, spoilt brat?”

My chest constricted at his words. My brother.

Squid was right, damn it. I didn’t want to be seen as a brat.

“Okay,” I said.

He let go of my hair.

I rubbed my scalp where it burned and then straightened my clothes. “Tell them not to hurt Cash and I will meet up with him later.”

He ignored my instruction and directed me to into a hallway and to the left.

“I swear, if a hair on his head is hurt, my agreement with my father is over.”

“He’ll be fine.”

The area we walked into—the thoroughfare—was a long corridor that curved to the right and to the left. All surfaces were white. Lights shone from little specks in the ceiling like stars during the day. Along the outer wall of the corridor were sporadic doors with plaques overhead. Between them, hung media screens spanning from floor to ceiling. Each looked like a window and displayed an image of beautiful scenery beyond. I marveled at the snowy landscape in one and, at what I believed, was a picture of Mt Fuji on another. As we walked by, to my surprise, the scenery moved with the change in perspective. Almost as if it were a real window. Impossible. I stopped, did a double take, and started again, never taking my eyes off the screen. It couldn’t be a window to actual scenery. It was a trick of the mind. But I knew there were things Marc had done that I couldn’t explain. We had traveled through dimensions together. Would it be any stranger if I could see through that dimension to another spot in the world?

I slowed down to stare at the next window, a scene of an open plan office space where many workers dressed in white and worked at desks. One in particular captured my attention. A stunning, tall woman with baby pink hair cut in a bob spoke to a brunette sitting at her desk typing. She wore a silver brooch over the breast area of her dress. On closer inspection, it was the same snake eating its tail that I had seen over the entrance to the Ludus. I wanted to see more but was prodded to keep moving by Squid. I sighed, glanced around the hallway and noticed I wasn’t the only one staring.

There were a few blond haired people giving me the evil eye. One had a purple and blue star-map etched over his right arm, the other, a girl, had a star-map covering half her face. When I caught their gaze, they shirked backwards. I checked to see what Squid was doing; perhaps it was him they were afraid of. But no, they were looking at me.

“They are afraid of you because of what you are,” Squid said.

“A Soul-Eater?” I asked, shoulders drooping. “Does everyone know?”

“Not just any Soul-Eater, but the one who stole the chance to pilot a royal body.”

I chewed the inside of my lip. So my reputation preceded me. A little while ago, I’d discovered I was a contender whose origins were a mystery. Someone else’s soul had been scheduled to download into this body—a warrior princess called Ava, Marc had told me. Initially, Bruce kept me, thinking that I must be a ruthless and powerful soul to have ousted someone like Ava. But when my witch-like powers manifested, and my star-map failed to appear, he’d all but abandoned me as a failure, a witch. From the start, I’d been breaking the rules. Was I entitled, or just stupid?

“How do they know it’s me?” I asked.

“Your hair. In case you haven’t noticed, there aren’t too many redheads around here.”

He was right. Most people were blond. Like I’d predicted weeks ago when thinking of the Ludus for the first time. Most Players I’d come across were blond or a shade of it. It was a genetic anomaly that occurred from the interbreeding between Seraphim and human. Even Jed said he dyed his hair so he looked different and I’d bet my bike the guy walking next to me had some fake coloring going on—the tips of his lashes looked light and his eyebrows were a peculiar shade of brown.

“We’re here.” Squid said.

We stopped at a door that had the name “Urser” engraved on a gold plaque. Underneath it was the symbol of a bear and the Latin words Victoria Aut Mors—Victory or Death.

Squid opened the door and ushered me in.

I took two steps inside and then realized someone arrived immediately after. I turned to find a boy with blond ringlets staring at me. He looked a few years younger than me, but not too much. Maybe late teens. His body had reached past puberty but was shy of manhood. His gangly arms and legs held the promise of burgeoning muscle. There was no doubt he would be a force to reckon with in a few years. Upon seeing me, he froze.

“It’s you,” he whispered, blue eyes flaring.

“Hi.” Could this be…? Already feeling despondent in the limelight, my nerves coiled tightly. I held out my hand. “I’m Roo. And you are…”

“Oh.” He wiped his palm on his jeans before shaking. “I’m Lincoln.”

A goofy grin broke out on my face. “Lincoln, my brother? Stuff the handshake, get in here.” I pulled him in for a bear hug, then held him at arm’s length to inspect, trying to see the family resemblance. I studied his dubious face with narrowed eyes. Nope. We looked nothing alike.

“I’m so happy to meet you Linc—can I call you Linc? I’ve only known about you for two weeks, have… have you known about me? I’m rambling, I know, but I do that and I’m nervous. Hey, nice digs.” I glanced around the room, deflecting.

Great job, Roo. He has no idea you’re a maniac.

He darted a glance to where Squid settled at the front door like a security guard. So much for my not being a prisoner.

“Come with me,” Lincoln said, and I followed him further into the apartment.

The place looked like it belonged on a Hollywood movie set. It had a large living room with opulent furnishings from brocade silk couches to ornate golden frames housing famous artwork on the walls. Everything was white, cream or gold. There were two hallways splintering off the main room. Each hallway had a few doors, perhaps leading to sleeping quarters. There was also a kitchen to the side, and a formal dining room on the other. The kitchen had one of the fake windows along its far wall. Totally impractical. It would get grease and filth all over it.

Lincoln grabbed a piece of fruit off the kitchen bar and returned to the long three-seater couch to sit down. I parked myself next him. Blue eyes peeked at me from over a green apple.

“So, Linc,” I said, “what have you been doing with yourself for the past—jeez, I don’t know—twenty-or-so years?”

“You’ve got no idea what’s going on here, do you?”

“I’m not completely ignorant.”

He inspected me in silence. “I honestly didn’t think you’d come.”

“I have to, don’t I? The rules state I must be registered or my time here is canceled.”

“No I meant come here, to Urser House. I was under the impression you were someone else’s progeny now.

I stood and surveyed the room as if my father were hiding behind a chair or something.

“So where is the S-O-B?” I asked.

Lincoln gasped at my inference. Then hurriedly stood up too.

“He’s probably on his way,” he said. “You should watch what you say in here. His eyes and ears are everywhere.”

“I’m not afraid of him.” I stuck out my chin. “He knows that.”

“You should be. He’s got more power than you know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Look, you’re new, you’re inexperienced. I feel like I should warn you about the breeding program. You know about that right?”

“I know that’s only if you fail the trials and I don’t plan on doing that so it doesn’t apply to me.”

“If you say so, but I’ve got a handful of betrothals already.”

“Betrothals?”

“With Nephilim, the biology is planned so we have just the right amount of human and the right amount of god in each newly created body—”

“You mean baby.”

“—right, whatever. Since our father is a full blooded Seraphim Watcher, and he mated with a human, we’re exactly half and half. We’re first generation. If we don’t create more Players, the Watchers have to, and let me tell you now, none of them like doing it, especially the women.”

“What exactly are you trying to tell me?”

He shrugged. “Consider yourself warned.”

“There’s no need to warn me. I’m not going to fail.” I screwed up my face. This wasn’t going according to plan. In my mental simulations of meeting my brother, we’d hugged, chatted, bonded over our mutual disdain for our parentage and then become the best of friends. But I felt no kinship with this boy. And his warning…

He’s hiding something, The Others said.

He just warned me about Urser, I mentally replied.

But why would he do that when he’s just met you?

“I should never have agreed to come here,” I muttered. “I should have said for him to stick his royal responsibilities where the sun don’t shine.”

Lincoln snorted. “I still can’t believe you shafted Dad like that. Having the hunter mentor you was a gutsy move. You might be right about not needing a warning. I wish my balls were as big as yours. Anyway, speaking of balls, I need to go to the john. Be right back.” Upon seeing the frown on my face, he added, “If you need to go too, there’s a guest bathroom down the other hall. Just don’t open the last door at the end. That’s Dad’s room. Off limits.”

He left, and I turned to face the opposite direction; the one with the big red metaphorical sign saying “Come here and go into the last room” because that’s what my brain thought.

Cash was certain Urser House was behind the dark serum that had infected the boy, James in Houston. This could be my only chance to do a little spying.

Anticipation zipped up my nerves and I glanced at Squid. He lifted his finger to his ear and then spoke quietly into the comms speaker at his sleeve. Something was happening and, if my father on his way, I needed to move.

I shot up and mumbled something to Squid about going to the toilet, then slipped down the hallway.

Three doors.

Before I picked a door, I cast my energy out as a warning system. If I sensed anyone’s aura getting close, I would know, even Squid’s. But he was still at the door, distracted by his comms.

I let myself in my father’s room. A massive, pristine bedroom fit for a king sat before me. Brocade curtains matching the decor in the living room covered a fake window on a far wall. A giant bed sat before it, and to the right, a wooden and leather desk with papers strewn about it. It was the only messy thing about the room.

I rushed over on quiet feet and sifted through the mess. Notebooks, loose paper, folded newspapers. It would take forever to sift through. I shifted a notebook to reveal another left open. A strange list had been written on the paper. The title said “Serum 154-X, Attempt 45”. Subject names with a number and the words “positive” or “negative” were next to each. There were a lot more positives than negatives. The word serum snagged. Could this be tied to what happened back in Houston?

I lifted the page and found more names with nothing written next to them, but marked with a future date. Names. So many names. A quick scan of them showed most unrecognizable to me. Maggie. Paul. Jamieson. Cygnus. Wren. Amy. Victoria. Val. Rus. Lincoln… It went on and on until I read the last name on the list and gasped.

Cash.

Right there on the bottom, hastily scrawled and with a big circle around it, almost as though an afterthought. As though Bruce heard about our arrival and adjusted his plan to accommodate the one person standing in his way. Maybe. Maybe I was reading too much into it.

But that future date. Whatever experiment was planned for this group hadn’t happened yet.

A cold shiver ran down my spine and I sensed movement in the living room. Lincoln had returned. I shifted paper to cover the open notebook in the way that I had found it and then hastened out the door.

The second I clicked the latch closed, Lincoln was there.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

I spun to face him. “Just looking for the bathroom. You said it was here.”

“Wrong door. It’s that one.” He pointed the door closest to the living room.

“Great. Thanks.”

“You better hurry. He’s almost here. I heard Squid talking to him on the comms.”

I nodded then locked myself in the bathroom. I closed the lid of the toilet and sat down until I caught my breath. That was close.

I had to tell Cash. He knew more about the serum than I did. He might know the significance of my discovery, after all, his security company investigated the serum incident with James.

When James had become infected by the serum, I used my abilities to purge the dark, twisted liquid from his body. He returned from a rabid beast back into a teenage boy. The transformation took minutes, but the strain on my energy was massive. I couldn’t purge every name on Urser’s list. With his immunity to most powers, I wasn’t even sure I could do that to Cash.

James had been human and alone—an orphan. Players and Watchers weren’t allowed to cause direct suffering to humans. It was another question if the choices humans made caused their own suffering. Whatever my father was doing, it wasn’t restricted to Players and not only was that a breach of the rules of the Game, but a severe crime against humanity.

The laughter of the little boy from the airport echoed in my ears and my heart squeezed. Maybe I was forbidden to create a real family, but I couldn’t stand the thought of innocents having that chance ripped away. I was starting to believe that us gods were more of a curse than a blessing.

Thinking of Cash made me worry for his safety, but he would be okay. He knew how to handle himself. I should be more concerned for the security personnel that had tried to stop him because that cold, calculating fury in his eyes had been directed at them. It had been better for everyone that I went peacefully.

And now I had found out Bruce’s targets.

I made the right choice.

I flushed the toilet, washed my hands in the little sink and patted the excess water on my sweaty neck, still bristling from the close call.

When I entered the living room, a deep male voice said from the doorway, “Are you ready to go?”

“Bruce. Nice to see you too.” The disdain was crystal clear in my voice. “Ready to go where?”

My father smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkled into tiny slithers of crow’s feet.

“To see the registrar,” he said.

Chapter 4

When we went back outside to the hallway, I stumbled over a pink suitcase with silver trimming. Ouch! Pain pounded my shin and I squealed, rubbing the sore spot.

“Why is your luggage in the hallway?” Bruce asked, annoyed we had stopped.

“It’s not mine,” I quipped back. “My suitcase is purple, not pink.”

Lincoln read the name tag. “Says right here: If lost, return to La Roux Urser.”

I snatched the tag and read for myself. “That’s not my writing.”

My father sighed and made Squid stash the suitcase back within the apartment before we continued down the hall toward the Ludus entrance. Squid returned to his favorite spot at my elbow and pushed me along. It made me think he was expecting trouble.

It was then something odd occurred to me. “Why are we going to the registrar? I thought I didn’t have to do that for a few months. Training first, registration later, right?”

A grunt from Bruce. “You’re late, sweet-pea. Registration is today.”

Sweet-pea?

“You’re registering with me,” Lincoln said.

“Hang on.” I stopped as a rising sense of panic engulfed me. “This isn’t the way it’s supposed to go.”

“Correct,” Bruce said. “Usually around your eighteenth birthday, your powers awaken and you discover you’re a demi-god. You register around your twenty-first birthday and then the trials can happen anytime between a few days and six months later. You’re almost twenty-four. The circumstances of your inception were suspect and the Tribunal has requested you complete your trials as soon as possible. That means you enter the same group as your brother.”

“That’s not fair,” I said.

“You’re right. It’s not. They had years of solid education and game preparation before they registered. You haven’t.”

“So I’m supposed to learn three years’ worth of training in, how long?”

“The trials start in a few days.”

A few days!

And if I couldn’t pass the trials… the breeding. This was not looking good for me. But I had a few days. Surely I could come up with a contingency escape plan by then.

So many thoughts whirled through my head as I walked to the Ludus exit, past the creepy admin guy, and to the registrar’s office on the other side. My mind completely vacated when I pushed beyond the registrar’s door to an empty waiting room with chairs along the wall.

I sat down on a vacant chair and inspected the magazine stack on the coffee table. Road Rider. Sweet. I’d barely picked up the book when yelling and shouting came from behind another door. Suddenly, it whooshed open and a woman in green medical scrubs rushed out. I glimpsed the view inside the room. Two more people dressed in scrubs. A reclining chair sat at the center with industrial lights shining down on it. There was a patient in there, arguing with the people in scrubs and someone off scene. When the doors closed again, I caught a whiff of the inside air. Disinfectant.

Just what kind of registration office was that?

The shouting escalated, but Bruce, Lincoln, and Squid didn’t seem fazed. On the other hand, my insides twisted into knots imagining all sorts of dastardly happenings. What were they doing to that poor boy? Was I next?

The women who’d run out earlier returned in a fluster with two companions, both dressed in white. They reminded me of the office people I’d seen in one of the fake windows in the Ludus main thoroughfare. Whereas one person was large, muscled and Caucasian, the other was small and Asian featured. The latter was the scary one. His wire rimmed glasses and small stature presented him as a weak man. He was neither man, nor weak, with a virulent aura that betrayed his genetics. Hostile energy exploded into the room upon their entry and, for the first time since I’d arrived, I felt truly afraid. He had a silver pin on his white jacket lapel that reminded me of the pink-haired lady from the fake window. The oroboros—a snake eating its tail. There was no question that he was a god, and if he was here stuck on Earth, he must be a banished Watcher, like Bruce. Apart from my father and Marc, this man was only other full-blooded Seraphim I’d met.

This man glanced at us, dismissed Lincoln and myself as insignificant, and then met my father’s eyes. They nodded to each other.

“In there?” the man asked Bruce.

Bruce waved at the registration office. “Seems like you have a compliance issue, Felix. Does the Tribunal need my assistance in the absence of the Gamekeeper?”

Felix glared at Bruce.

The air chilled in that minute. If it were possible to sink any further into my chair, I would have. The energy between Bruce and Felix was tangible. Their auras, invisible to anyone but me, sized each other up, testing the other’s strengths and weaknesses like two lions in the wild.

“You may have sway with Octavia, Urser, but you have no jurisdiction when it comes to Tribunal law,” Felix said.

Octavia must be another Tribunal member, and if he had sway with her… then no wonder my registration had been moved forward. What else could he get the Tribunal to agree to?

My father’s nonchalant shrug broke the tension and I breathed again.

The door to the registrar’s office opened and Felix and his soldier went inside. The door closed behind them.

I heard a lot of shouting. Felt a lot of auras becoming erratic with anxiety. Some banging followed a flare of metaphysical energy and then… quiet.

When the door reopened, Felix and the soldier stalked out followed by the woman in green scrubs. They all left the waiting room without a further look our way.

A glance inside the surgery showed the disgruntled patient was gone.

I never found out what had happened to him, but I could only guess. His aura was there one minute, and not the next. In an instant, he’d been canceled.

That could be me.

One wrong word. One false move. Piss off the wrong person, and I was done. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

After a few minutes, we were called and went inside.

Too many medical tools, monitors, and computers were in the room. It reminded me of the sterile place the Inquisitor questioned me in, long ago. Except, instead of buckets of water on the far shelf for my head to be dunked in, there were large glass containers about the size of a melon, full of pearlescent fluid. Eight containers in total.

A tall lady with silver gray hair tied at her nape, sat with her back to us scribbling in a notebook. When she heard the scraping of the door as it opened, she turned in our direction. She had a long sharp nose, high cheekbones, and wore aubergine lipstick. She took one look at my father through deep heavy set eyes, put her pen down, and bowed reverently.

“Sir,” she said, and then waved at her two male co-workers who were busying themselves on the far wall, checking various instruments and medical paraphernalia. Metal clinked in the silence.

“Prep the chair,” she added to her colleagues. “We have two today.”

“Wait.” My heart leapt into my throat. “Shouldn’t my mentor be here?”

No one answered me. I hoped for any distraction to stall the process. The needles didn’t look good. The woman’s flat lining aura didn’t look good.

“I’ll go first.” Lincoln offered and moved to sit in the chair. “It’s no big deal, really, Roo. Just a few blood samples.”

I looked over my shoulder to inspect the exit. Squid remained outside to guard the door. I inched backwards away from the chair and intended to run out, to find Cash, someone. I desperately wanted to get away, but the thought of being canceled kept my feet glued to the floor. My skin went clammy. A pressure began to build, starting in my middle and spreading to my prickly palms. If I looked down, I would see my hands fashioned into claws, the tendons in my arms bulging out. But I didn’t look down. I couldn’t pay attention to the fear. If I did, it would have power over me. I could do something I’d regret. Like explode.

I tried to focus on something in the room that was not frightening.

Why are there so many people here for a few blood samples? The Others asked.

Something wasn’t right.

Lincoln sat back in the reclining chair and had the crook of his arm swabbed, belted and a vein tapped. While the attendants discussed something, the lady—who I assumed was the registrar—flipped her book to a particular page, picked up her pen and looked down her long nose at my brother.

“What is your Player assigned name?”

“Lincoln Caleb Urser.”

She scribbled down a note.

“In the absence of the Gamekeeper, who will witness this registration?”

My father stood forward.

“I will,” he said. The woman held out a pen.

“Do you solemnly swear that you are a Watcher among the people—not a Player—and do so have the right to make an impartial judgment in the Game be it for truth, justice or in the essence of integrity?”

“Just give me the pen.” My father snatched the pen from the registrar’s hands. He used his large body to shepherd the lady away from her precious notebook. He pushed a button on the pen and jammed it into his forearm where it gathered blood in the nib. He didn’t flinch.

“Okay. Now, I’m assuming you're his mentor. Yes? Good. As his mentor, do you swear that this soul is the one he claims to be and that you are responsible for his education, results and welfare for the duration of his trials?” Her voice trembled and she leant away from my father. “And in failure to complete the trials to a satisfactory level, you are the one responsible for seeing the participant’s game canceled and returned to Purgatory?”

Bruce glared through slitted eyes and signed on the dotted line.

Cash should be here.

It was a cry of certainty from deep within my soul.

“Take his blood. Two vials,” she ordered the attendants.

They complied, pulling thick red blood out of his arms and into awaiting glass tubes. One green sidekick injected the blood into another larger vial, then added some pearlescent liquid from the jars beyond. He took the resulting concoction over to the computer and proceeded to test it with a machine. The other sidekick moved with clinical precision and swabbed Lincoln’s wound, taped it up and held pressure to it. Then he swabbed the alternate arm, strapped it and tapped a vein.

Lincoln’s brows drew together and he shifted in his seat.

“Are you taking more?” he asked.

Without answering, the registrar closed her notebook with a snap and stood up. She peered at the blood concoction near the computer and once satisfied with whatever readout flashed across the screen, lifted a glittering hypodermic needle and sucked up the pearly red mixture of Lincoln’s blood from the vial on the machine. She gave the needle a little squirt to remove excess air. A line of sparkling fluid shot into the air and landed on the floor in front of me in a blob. She approached Lincoln.

“What is that?” Lincoln shuffled a little more in his seat. “What did you mix it with?”

“Now Mr. Urser, you may feel a slight pinch as this goes in. Please relax and it will all be over in a minute.”

“What is that?” Lincoln’s voice took on a tightness, his eyes wide.

The registrar nodded to the two attendants and they held down Lincoln’s arms. He struggled, so they pulled out straps from underneath the chair and restrained him.

“You need to tell me what that is,” he said, pulling back from his captors.

I turned to my father, but he stood there with his arms folded and a bored look on his face.

The registrar shoved the needle into my brother’s vein and pushed the glowing liquid into his arm. Lincoln froze, seized more like it. His eyes rolled back into his head and he convulsed.

“Stop.” I stepped forward but my father placed a heavy hand on my shoulder.

“He’s been injected with nano-transmitters. They are essential for us to monitor vitals during the trials. Don’t interfere,” he said.

The shrill sound of a phone ringing filled the air.

It was Bruce’s. When he answered, his expression darkened. He turned his back on me and walked to the corner of the room to speak quietly. In two steps I was by Lincoln’s side.

“Lincoln. Are you okay?” I placed a hand on his hot cheek.

In the background, I heard Bruce’s voice take on an aggressive tone and his aura buzzed with irritation.

Lincoln murmured something. He looked so innocent with his eyes closed, long lashes splayed against his cherub cheeks.

“Are we receiving data?” the registrar asked.

“Yes. Loud and clear.” The attendant who answered her had removed his mask and gloves. He touched the screen in front of him and various boxes of data blinked at us. Lincoln’s face popped up too.

“Good. Lift him off and put him in the waiting room.” The registrar spouted orders to her crew. One of them helped a dazed Lincoln out of the room.

“La Roux, you’re next,” she said.

In a knee jerk reaction, I backed away and bumped into my father.

“Roo-Roo. The quicker you get this over with, the quicker you can go back to our rooms.”

“Our rooms?” I turned to face my father. “I never agreed to stay with you.”

His eyes narrowed. “You don’t have a choice. You said you wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. Are you making a big deal?”

“I meant I would not make a big deal about coming here, to the Ludus. And I haven’t. I’m here. I never said I’d live with you once I got here.”

“You said, and I quote ‘I won’t kick up a stink about the rest’.”

“I didn’t say what the rest was.”

“Don’t be obtuse.”

“Oh, you mean like how you said I had six months to train, now I suddenly have days?”

Animosity boiled in his eyes. He glanced over my shoulder and motioned to the attendants.

“I don’t have time for this. Strap her down.”

There was no need to gather my energy, all I had to do was pull on my offender’s aura with my will and let it snap back like a rubber band. He jerked as though stung and rubbed his shoulders with alarmed eyes and looked to my father for help.

“That’s enough Roo,” my father barked, eyes burning with fury. “You have to be registered; otherwise your game will be over before it has begun. Just like the boy you saw before us. Is that what you want?”

We stared each other off for what seemed like an eternity but in the end I caved. He was right. I needed to be registered otherwise I would be canceled. Dead. I was only here to play the Game. If I didn’t want to do it, then I’d be killed. My soul would float to wherever the hell Purgatory was and wait until Marc decided he felt like taking a trip back to the Empire. I tapped my finger on my thigh. Register, or die.

“Fine.” I sat in the chair.

“What is your name?” the registrar asked.

“La Roux Elizabeth Urser.”

She scribbled down a note.

“I want my mentor here.”

“I thought Urser was your mentor.”

“Nope. Cash Samson.”

Her expression changed from condescending to downright comical. Her mouth opened wide and her brows winged up high. When she gathered her composure, she gazed down at her book and paused.

“We need the Gamekeeper here.” Her voice was shaking and she refused to look up. “I hereby declare this registration postponed until he is back from the Empire.”

A growl emitted from the base of my father’s throat and the room shook. I swear, the room actually shook. The air thickened until my eyes stung and it became hard to breathe.

Bruce grabbed the woman by the scruff of her neck, spinning her until she faced him. He jerked her chin up so their eyes met.

“Look at me woman.” He shook her like a rag doll.

She looked at him.

“I decide who gets registered. Not the Gamekeeper, do you understand, Andrea?”

“Yes, sir. You decide who gets registered. Not the Gamekeeper. I understand.” Her eyes glazed over, all zombie-like and her voice was monotone.

Bruce let go of her and took a step back. “Now take her blood.”

Andrea nodded and indicated to the remaining attendant to take my blood.

Everything inside me tensed. I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. And this sure as hell wasn’t Oz. I sank in the chair.

Note to self: Do not look my father in the eyes.

Before I knew it, two vials of blood were removed from my right arm and mixed into another waiting vial of pearly liquid.

Andrea picked up her notebook and looked at my father’s chest. “Do you solemnly swear that you are a Watcher among the people, not a Player and do so have the right to make impartial judgments in the Game be it truth, justice and in the essence of—?”

“For fuck’s sake.” My father picked up the blood pen and stabbed himself in the arm.

A loud banging sounded at the door. Bruce ignored the knocking and moved to the registry book.

“Do you swear that this soul is the one she claims to be and that you are responsible for her education, results and welfare?” Andrea’s words rushed out in a panic.

“Wait,” I said and sat forward in the chair. I was certain those words were meant for Cash. He should sign for me, not my father.

But it was too late.

Bruce snatched the book off Andrea and signed away. To the remaining green sidekick, he said, “Get on with it.”

“No,” I said.

The attendant tightened the strap on my needle mark free arm and pushed me backward until I reclined. In the absence of the second attendant, my father held my other arm down.

Before I could blink, a burning, searing pain exploded at the inside of my elbow. In a daze I looked down and saw the needle sticking out—glowing red substance expended. I hadn’t even noticed them mixing the pearly stuff with my blood and testing it on the machine. The pain multiplied and spread throughout my body until it was like liquid napalm in my veins.

I screamed.

“Get it out. It’s burning. Holy crap it’s burning.” I rolled around and thrashed in the chair. Was this what Lincoln felt? My goodness, was this what everyone felt?

Someone must have poured rocket fuel into that syringe. It was the only explanation. I would combust.

Stop. I cried in my mind. Stop the pain. Stop.

“Strap her down.” My father’s voice swam through the haze.

But I couldn’t focus my energy, I couldn’t focus my mind. I heard sizzling and crackling and thought it was my skin on fire. There was a banging too. The noise was so loud it reverberated like a beating drum. I was burning up.

I screamed.

Stop. Just stop.

And then the room shook. Metal scraped against metal.

“Something’s not right,” Andrea said.

“It will pass.” Another voice.

“But the room.”

A loud crash echoed in my head. Maybe it was my brain bursting because the pain stopped.

I must have been dead.

I wasn’t dead. The sound was someone trying to break through the door. I tried to sit up but a wave of dizziness overcame me.

“Is the data received?”

There was a pause.

“Damien. Is the data coming through?” Andrea asked again.

“I don’t know. Something is coming through, but it’s all wrong. We didn’t have time to test the connection properly.”

The sound of a chair scraping back hit my ears.

“Give me a look,” Andrea said. “I see what you mean. Her vitals are duplicating and breaking up. The transmitters could be faulty, or picking up someone else’s signal.”

Bruce pulled me upright. Black spots danced across the insides of my eyelids, but at least I wasn’t burning. Now I was pain free, I felt the wrongness inside of me. Like a foreign object that needed to be pulled out.

“It’s time to go,” Bruce said and slipped an arm under mine to hoist me off the chair.

“Wait. We need to do that again. The product is faulty,” Andrea said.

“It will have to do,” my father growled in a rush. “We’re leaving.”

Chapter 5

My father stabbed the button on the wall that activated the sliding doors.

Cash and Squid waited on the other side, in the middle of an argument, blocking our exit. Every muscle in both of their bodies tensed as though on the verge of snapping. The heat bouncing between them was tangible. Cash whipped his gaze to me. “Are you okay? I heard screaming.”

All the adrenaline in my body broke down and my bottom lip trembled. “I’m okay. The nano-things hurt, that’s all.”

“Jed’s gone to notify the Tribunal.” Cash pulled me from my father and into a sudden embrace. For a minute, I froze. Then I realized my father hadn’t stopped him, and despite my proclamation to do things myself, for a small moment, my head dipped to his chest. It was so much easier when he was around. My ear pressed against his shirt, eyes fluttering closed. He smelled musky, male and familiar. For a minute, I wanted to forget everything that had happened between us. To pretend he hadn’t thought about abandoning me, and he’d meant it when he said he was going to stay.

“I’m taking her back with me,” Cash said, presumably to my father because I wasn’t lifting my gaze. Two more minutes of avoiding the world.

“You are leaving her with us. She is my daughter, and now I am responsible for her welfare. I have signed for her registration. She is my concern.”

Cash stiffened.

“Your tricks won’t work on me. You know that. I am her mentor. She is my concern until she finishes her trials. I’ve already notified the Tribunal of your indiscretion.”

“Just because I can’t glamor you doesn’t mean I can’t hurt you, Samson.”

I held my breath. That information was new. Cash was immune to the influence of gods and witches. No wonder my father had such an interest in him when he discovered him all those years ago and took him under his wing.

“Give it up Bruce. She wasn’t what you ordered, so you left her behind and now you’ve seen what she can do, you want her back.”

“You have no right to speak to me like that. You are not even worth the spit to shine my shoes.”

Cash jerked back as though shoved. His arms tightened around me.

“You are an imperfect soul in a human body. She has first generation blood running through her veins. The blood pumping through that body has responsibilities. And as far as you are concerned? I will never get the time I wasted on you back, and that is a regret I will hold for a long time. The Tribunal can’t veto me. You need to leave before I have you canceled.”

Just for a moment I wanted to ignore what was going on around me in favor of hiding in Cash’s arms, feeling safe.

Safe.

Lately, I didn’t know the meaning of the word. I’d felt safe a few weeks ago, and then he choked me. My injury should have concerned me, but I worried more for his safety. It was the tipping point for him. That was the moment he decided I was safer without him. What if he lost control again and made the same decision? My heart would break when he inevitably left me.

I groaned, torn. This would not work. I couldn’t hide my head in his chest and ignore everything forever. I needed a better solution. Part of me, an enormous part, wanted to go with him, but the other part knew the business with my father wouldn’t end. His manipulation went so far back. Those papers I’d seen in his room. All those names and medical results. That boy in Houston, James. Petra. Steve, my ex-boyfriend. Alvin when he was hexed. Leila. My birth mother. Innocents caught in his crossfire. It all stemmed from his machinations around controlling me. No one would control me. Ever.

But if I didn’t stay to uncover his plans, then who knew what bodies would be left in his wake?

Okay, Roo, what’s the worst case scenario? I asked myself.

I replied, thinking to myself in a talk-show host’s buttery voice. Well, Roo, take a look behind door number one: You get canceled and die. Then, there’s door number creepy: You fail the trials and live your days as a breeding machine. And don’t forget door number three: You lose Cash; You lose your friends; You lose everything.

So what’s left?

The hope against hope that I actually pass the trials and Bruce lets me leave?

No. What was left was my time here on earth and how I chose to spend it. Do I spend it running and hiding in the arms of someone who might break my heart, or fighting to protect the innocents mixed up in this mess that all started with me stealing the chance to be in this body?

Who needed The Others when I could hold a perfectly sane conversation with myself?

I took a deep breath and pushed away from Cash. Cool air washed away the warmth he had provided.

“I’m going with my family,” I said.

Cash jolted like he’d been shot. Color drained from his face. “You’re choosing to go with him?”

My father’s smirk flickered in my periphery. I turned to him, my face frozen in case I my true emotions shone through.

“Bruce, I need a few minutes alone with my mentor. Then I’ll be right out.”

“Clear the room,” my father said, then leaned into me. “I’ll be outside if you need me sweet-pea.”

If he called me that name one more time I would puke. That he thought I was doing this because of family duty, love or whatever, made my skin crawl. That wasn’t what this was about. It was about that list of names I’d found in his room, and not leaving a trail of bodies behind. I had to take responsibility for my identity. I may not be a warrior princess, but I could find a way to stop Bruce from turning more innocents into monsters… including Cash.

Cash paced the room. We were alone.

“What’s going on, Roo? I know we haven’t had the best two weeks, but I thought we were behind that. I thought you at least trusted me more than that guy.” He gestured the way Bruce left. “I know I wasn’t honest with you, but I told you, I’m not leaving. You need me to help you pass the trials.”

He stopped and squinted at me, irises going dark.

“Cash.” My tone was soft, resolute. The tightness in my chest constricted. I screwed up my face. “I found papers in my father’s room. Names. Lab results. It could be the proof you’ve been looking for. I just need my phone from my luggage and then I can take photos for you.”

“Really?” He took a step back, eyes darting around the room at invisible things beyond his focus, trying to comprehend what he thought was happening. “Names. Lab results… No. Not acceptable. You’re not safe with him.”

“I’m not safe with you, either.” The hurt in his eyes told me I may have gone too far, but his name had been on that list too. Then I laughed, a short, sharp and cruel laugh. “I hate his guts, Cash. That hasn’t changed. I’m sure you can still help me train while I’m there. You’re my mentor. That has to count for something. There was a Tribunal member called Felix. He didn’t like Bruce very much. Maybe he’ll help you.”

“No. You saw how Lincoln behaved. He didn’t give a rat’s ass if he passed or failed. He knows Urser will keep him here to—” he cut himself off.

“To breed? Oh, yeah. I know about that bit.”

“It will not happen if you come with me.” His frown deepened. “I can’t protect you there.”

I took a deep breath. Here goes. “Cash, I stole the chance to be in this body, and ever since then, bad stuff has happened. Innocent people are getting hurt and I need to take responsibility. I don’t even know who I am. I should follow the rules considering I shouldn’t be here.”

“Don’t say that,” he said. “You have as much right to be here as I do.”

“You are the queen’s lover Cash.” There, I said it—I was putting his needs before mine. Very big of me. “You are important in this world, and I’m not. I’m here on the side of evil and you belong there on the side of good. I’m a Soul-Eater. You and Marc told me that Soul-Eaters devolve when they get back to the Empire. I don’t want that. I want to do the opposite of eating souls while I’m here so I don’t want to end up a puddle of nothing when I get back there. You’re important. I’m not.” And if I could save him from Bruce’s list, then I would be happy.

“You and I both know that’s not true. You’re not a Soul-Eater.”

“But I eat souls.”

“And what the hell does it matter who I was with lifetimes ago? Why are you fighting this?”

He closed the gap between us in an instant, taking hold of my shoulders.

“Look,” he said. “You’re just as important… more important and—” He scratched his head and grimaced, pausing, struggling with a thought. “I know what you’re doing. It’s because of what happened in Houston. I can be unpredictable and dangerous to live with, but I’m working on it. Seeing your neck crushed at my hands is a sight I’ll never be able to erase from my memory. Every day I wonder what if? What if I locked my door? What if I stopped fighting my new emotions enough to warn you about the dreams instead of holding it all inside? But the point is, I’m dealing with it instead of running away. You should too. Don’t push me away because you think this isn’t working. I told you I’m not leaving you and I meant it. I will get the Tribunal to overrule Urser’s self-proclaimed decree to keep you under lock and key. I’ll get your phone. You get the evidence, then you’re out.”

Cash fished something out of his pocket and dropped it into my hand. “Here. I meant to give this to you earlier. I bought it for you. Something to keep you motivated to pass the trials, and if not… well it can still help you.”

Then he stormed past me and left the room, leaving a wake so cold I needed to hug myself.

I opened my palm and found the keys to the Ducati.

That beautiful bike. Mine. If I passed, I could have it. If I failed… he intended for me to use it anyway—to escape.

My eyes stung and I sniffled.

Monster.

Shut up, I told The Others.

I pocketed the keys and dragged my feet back into the hallway, drained and exhausted. Despite a grumbling stomach from an overspent use of my energy, I needed to sleep and heading back to the rooms seemed the best thing to do.

“I’m proud of you, Roo. You did the right thing.” My father seemed pleased with Cash’s stormy eruption. He placed a steady hand on my shoulder and gave it a courtesy squeeze. I knew he felt nothing. His aura betrayed him. Flatlining as usual. I used to suspect the lack of movement in his aura was perhaps something native to the full blooded gods—aliens, angels, Seraphim—whatever you wanted to call them. But Marc’s aura affected me deeply sometimes, so that wasn’t the truth. The lack of reaction in my father’s aura was most likely because behind his mask of fatherly love, he cared nothing for me. He only wanted to control me.

Not if I destroyed him first.

Chapter 6

When we returned to our apartment, there was a table set with six places for dinner. I let my gaze trail over the formal dining setting with disdain and a sense of foreboding. Shiny crystal glassware and porcelain crockery fit together with a candelabra center piece like something out of a Martha Stewart magazine. I approached with caution and noticed each setting had a name tag. About to lean in close for a glimpse, I felt movement to my rear and tensed.

“Go freshen up, Roo. There are people coming tonight and I’d like you to make a good impression.” Bruce spoke with his arms crossed and jaw set, waiting for a rebuttal.

“Has my luggage arrived?”

“It’s in your room. I have already asked the concierge for new clothes. An Urser needs to look and dress a certain way. Follow me.” My father spoke over his shoulder as he strode down the west wing. “After the trials, you’ll be inducted into the family business. This is your room; across the hall is your brother’s. That door down there is the guest room and my quarters are down the east wing of the apartment. They’re out of bounds. We only intend to stay here until the trials are over, so don’t get too comfortable.”

“Okay.”

“If there’s nothing else, I will see you at the table in thirty.”

I mock saluted his back as he walked away and then opened the door to my personal hotel room.

The little pink suitcase was the only colorful thing in the room. The carpet was cream; the walls were a champagne cream, the curtains on the fake window were “mother-of-pearl” and the bed spread was… I tapped my lip trying to think of another shade of cream.

Almond. Antique White. Bisque, take your pick, The Others said.

Bisque will do, it’s all cream, anyway. What I needed was purple. A pang shot through my heart at the thought of my old purple bedspread back in Margaret River. Those good old days were gone. I went to open the suitcase. Maybe someone had moved my belongings into it. Stranger things had happened. Cash had once surprised me by unpacking all my belongings after moving in with him. He color coded too. If this was my suitcase, hopefully my phone was in there with my Prince albums. I was dying for a bit of musical comfort.

All at once, I remembered the hurt in Cash’s eyes when I told him I was staying with my father. That hurt lodged in my stomach and grew. Distracted by my thoughts, I paid little attention to the abnormal whirring sound the zipper made when I pulled it down its tracks. And I certainly wasn’t taking note of the solid click when I opened the suitcase for a look.

But The Others were.

BOMB!

A vacuum sucked all the sound from the room. Time stopped. The next thing I knew, I was on my back staring at the scorched ceiling, ears ringing so loud it hurt. I must have blacked out because the furniture debris had already landed, burnt and scattered on the floor. Blackened, charred pieces everywhere.

I blinked.

I stared.

Smoke singed my nose. It burned the back of my throat.

I blinked again.

My body jostled from side to side, I looked down the length of my body and saw two hands on my arms, shaking me. A fuzz of fine blond hairs covered those two hands. My eyes trailed up, and I found the hands belonged to Bruce. His mouth moved but I couldn’t quite figure out what he said. The words came out distorted and muffled as though we were under water, and then somebody pulled the plug and the sound came rushing in.

“Roo?” He shook me again. He needn’t have bothered, I already trembled. My breath came in short, sharp gasps and my heart beat a percussion in my ears. I was alive, and unhurt. Somehow.

“I’m okay,” I said, the words vibrating inside my skull.

“What the hell happened? The room is scorched. I had to use my power to stifle the flames in case the entire Ludus burned.”

“I think…” My voice trailed off, trying to recount my steps. I came in the room, I opened the suitcase, then—

Boom.

A bomb? But how did I survive?

We were four, now we are three, they said.

I gasped.

That meant I had died. Just like when Petra dropped me into the cave. One of my passengers was gone.

Leila.

The room closed in. If she was the one who sacrificed herself so I could live… my chest squeezed.

“Somebody tried to kill me.” I glared at Bruce. They did kill me!

My father’s body blocked the doorway, no wait—that was the hallway. I was in the bloody hallway. I looked to my right and to my left. Charred splinters of wood littered the long expanse of corridor. The floor was black. The blast had thrown me through the door and I’d landed in the corridor.

“I guess it’s started already,” he said, and then turned to someone at his side. “Squid, alert the Tribunal that there has been a breach of peace protocols within the Ludus confines. Assassination attempts aren’t supposed to start until after the trials. We will contain the incident for tonight; they are welcome to investigate tomorrow. But spread the word that Roo is unharmed. It will take a lot more than that to kill an Urser.”

He turned back and pulled me off the ground.

“On second thought,” he said over his shoulder. “Lincoln, get another outfit for her sent up. Send it to the guest room this time.”

He said the what now? Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought.

I squinted to see Lincoln standing behind Bruce, with his own scowl plastered on his angelic face.

Bruce checked his gold watch. “You now have twenty minutes to get ready. Use the guest room, it has an adjoining bathroom. Your clothes will be waiting on the bed when you get out of the shower.”

I stuttered, trying to work out my surprise in some shape or form but I failed utterly.

Bruce’s eyebrow lifted on one side. “What are you waiting for?”

“But… I was just…”

“You’re unhurt, are you not?”

I looked down at myself. Pale fresh skin showed through various holes in my shredded clothing. “I almost died. My mistake to think my life was more important than your dinner.”

My words blew red rage into his features. He jabbed his finger in the air at me. “Let’s get this straight. I own that body. I made it, so it belongs to me. So, yes, I’m damn pissed off that someone tried to kill you, especially when I’ve been using that vessel to secure strategic alliances. I have more deals to make to ensure the future of my line, and while you are here, under my roof, you’ll live by my laws. If this happened on my home planet, you wouldn’t have survived. You’re lucky we live in this weak, pathetic world where assassination attempts are half-assed. Get up, get dressed, and get to dinner.”

Half-assed assassination attempt? I shuddered to think what his home planet was like. The look of surprise on my face must have satisfied him because he ended his lecture there. He did a one-eighty and left me speechless.

I was beginning to think Cash’s opinion of him was underrated.

With nothing else to do, I opened door number creamy, realizing I’d died twice in a matter of months. At this rate, my life would end in another two.

Chapter 7

A fog of confusion shrouded my mind for the duration of my hot shower. Afterwards, I dried my hair with a towel and scrubbed my scalp, hoping to return some semblance of brain activity before I had to face the scrutiny of mysterious dinner guests. I was so tired. Exhaustion lapped at the edges of my consciousness. That bombing had used up energy reserves.

When I left the bathroom, true to my father’s word, a dress bag lay on the bed and a pair of shiny heels were on the floor. I held up the dress bag and unzipped it.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

A formal, floor-length, navy blue dress spilled out. Made of something thick, shiny and stretchy, the bust gathered upwards to strap over one shoulder. I pulled the tag out from its hiding place.

Designer made.

Kitty would love it. A sudden ache overcame me. I missed my friends, Alvin and Kitty. The urge to call them was overwhelming. When I’d left Margaret River, Alvin had asked Kitty to marry him, and she’d said yes. One of the last memories I had of the two was them canoodling behind a hospital curtain. In two months, I was due back there for the wedding of the century. A smile lifted my mood, only for a moment, because with that recognition of their happiness came the inevitability I would never have it. The Game would see to that.

I scowled the entire time I donned the dress, slipped on the shoes and placed the dangly diamond earrings in my ears. I appraised myself in the bathroom mirror. The longer I stared, the more I got caught in the gaze of my reflection, like a deer in the headlights. There was something behind my honey brown irises I didn’t like. A flicker of life not mine. It made me shiver.

Shaking the feeling off, I broke my reflection’s hold over myself and gave my body the once over. The dress wasn’t so bad. From the way it gathered and folded, I almost looked like a red-headed, roman goddess.

Water dripped from my hair onto my skin. Well, if there’s any benefit to having the same abilities as a witch, it’s saving money on trips to the salon. Kitty would be so proud of me. I filled my fingers to the brim with searing energy and ran them through my hair. Wisps of steam lifted as I brushed every hair on my head until it dried, dead straight.

“C’mon, Roo. Game face on,” I said to myself. “What would Prince do?” I had no idea what he’d do. I’d never met the artist. I used to ask myself that question all the time and randomly picked a song on my MP3 player, hoping the title would give me the magic answer.

A childish game compared to the one I was now in.

A knock at the door snapped me back to attention and I went to open it.

“Damn, sis, if we weren’t related…” Lincoln’s voice trailed off as he looked me up and down and pulled at his shirt collar with a finger. His slicked back hair and tuxedo made him surprisingly dashing. Although on closer inspection…

“Your jacket is inside out,” I said.

He smirked.

“Won’t Bruce be pissed?”

His smirk widened to a grin, then a serious expression stole across his face. “Speaking of the devil, he’ll be going out after the dinner. I’m having a few people—uh, hi, Dad. Didn’t see you there.”

Bruce waltzed up behind Lincoln. “The guests are here. Let’s make this snappy. I have an appointment later.”

That was music to my ears. Sleep tugged at my seams and hunger prowled in my stomach. I couldn’t wait to eat up and then hit the sack. Start the day fresh.

My father frowned at Lincoln’s attire and lifted his brow at his son, but when Lincoln shrugged, Bruce gave up and turned away.

Lincoln caught my surprise. “Get used to it, sis. I need some form of entertainment. This dinner is only the first of many.”

* * *

Dinner passed surprisingly without a hitch. Apart from the two hours of boring talk that barely kept me awake, let alone sitting upright in my seat, there was little intelligence gathered for our cause against my father. Zero talk about anything to do with serums or labs.

An older woman, similar in age and aura to my father, and two young men were our guests. All three of them had a bull’s head embroidered onto the collar of their white shirts. If I hadn’t been so exhausted, I might have been interested in the way both men filled out their tuxedos. The jacket fabric stretched around their biceps, and the collar was snug around their thick, manly necks. I might even have been interested in how my father spoke privately with the woman the entire night. But I was exhausted, and grateful when they all stood up to leave shortly after dessert. My father followed them out without a backwards glance at us. When I turned back to the table, I realized Lincoln had already left.

Right. Strange family.

I made my way down the hall to Lincoln’s room, dodging some wooden debris still on the floor. My timid rap on his door barely left a sensation on my knuckles, but he heard the request and opened.

“S’up sis.”

“Hi. Listen, I have no clothes. You know, the bomb. Can I please borrow shorts and a T-shirt for bed?”

“Yeah, for sure.” He tapped his chin and looked me over with narrowed eyes. “So you weren’t going to stay and hang out when my mates come over?”

I frowned. “No. Thank you but, no. I’m too old for that, besides I have a lot of studying to do. I should read something. Don’t you have some to do as well?”

He snorted. “As if, sis, just look at me.” He waved his hands up and down his body. “I’m not the epitome of the god of war now, am I? I got nothing but a short assed body and no powers and have already failed in his eyes. I don’t even know why I’m bothering. Rather be spending my last free days on this planet partaying if you know what I mean.” He wiggled his brows at me and bounced with excitement. “The offer is still open. I got some ladies coming, some blow—not that you’d be interested in the ladies, unless I’m missing something?” He checked my response from over his shoulder as he walked further into his room. I shook my head. “No? Thought so, there’s a couple of dudes coming too, so…”

I stopped listening to his banter and rewound his words until I caught on something.

God-of-freaking-war.

Who has no powers, and, and—my mind stuttered to a halt as I became distracted by the decor in his room. Horse crazy. Like, seriously. Pictures on the walls, statues and figurines on the shelves, books littered around. Even his fake window looked out onto a sunny paddock with stallions galloping around under the blue sky. In the corner, just peeking over the cover of his bed was an old rocking horse, chipped and worn, threaded mane tattered. Weird.

“How long have you been here?” I asked him, chewing on my nails so he couldn’t see the pity in my expression.

“Dunno, somewhere between ten years and my whole life.” Lincoln placed his scrunched up clothing bundle in my hands and moved to collect folders off a table, first swiping off a layer of dust. He added the folders to my load. “Seeing as you’re so insistent you study, here’s some theory to get you started.”

“Thanks. You mean you’ve never been outside?”

“Nah, I’ve been out. Once or twice. It’s like I said, I got nothing to protect myself except my mouth. Players aren’t meant to kill each other until after the trials, but accidents happen. Daddy dearest didn’t want to risk another royal mistake. In the end that’s what he got because I’m a dud.”

Jeez. I felt bad about my childhood, but his was worse. I could’ve spent my entire life underground but instead I got a father who at least pretended parental responsibilities on occasion.

“So,” I continued. “If I need to study more for these trials, where would I go?”

“Dunno. Maybe the depository?”

I had no idea what that was. “And what if I wanted to see my mentor? Would there be anywhere in particular his quarters might be?”

He shrugged.

“Do you have a map?”

He gave me a weird look.

“Okay, guess not.”

A shuffling sound behind alerted me to company. I turned around to find the grinning faces of two young males, baseball caps crooked, shirts inside out. Despite their appearance, it was clear they had money. Each wore a diamond stud in the ear, gold chains and designer sneakers. The waft of musky cologne was so strong I wanted to gag.

“S’up Drew. S’up Crank.” Lincoln squeezed past me to get to his friends in the hallway.

Both looked like carbon copies of Lincoln except with shorter hair. They could be twins, or brothers at least. One with his hat on backwards bobbed up and down and snickered over my shoulder to Lincoln in a strained voice. “Ah bro, you was right, she’s hella tight.” He bit his knuckles, and made the most obvious charade of inspecting me up and down, including lewd sound effects showing his pleasure.

“And that’s my cue to leave.” I widened my eyes at Lincoln. “Thank you for your help. I’ll let you get back to your boy band.”

I scurried back to the guest room to dump my package on the bed. I exchanged my dress for the plain black shirt and cotton jogging shorts I’d borrowed, then flopped onto the bed next to the files totally intending to read them, but sleep stole my vision, clouding everything up. I almost thought Marc had been here, pulling his sleep trick on me.

My brain meandered between the worlds of the living and the dead for a few moments until a deep rhythmic bass thumped through the walls. Great. Just great. How was I meant to go to sleep with this racket on?

After twenty minutes of ear tingling noise, I swallowed a frustrated screamed, got off the bed, opened the door, and slammed it behind me.

The second I stomped into the living area with fists balled at my side, I regretted it.

Two girls, or women—it was hard to tell the age of the demi-god race—lifted their heads to look at me. One had snorted a line of white powder off the glass coffee table and had red rimmed nostrils. Her mascara ran from her watering eyes and strands of her dull hair caught in the black pigment, streaking it across her face. The other woman sat on the couch with Lincoln’s arm around her. Drew and Crank stood behind the couch inspecting music on the digital player that filtered through the house speakers. They all looked up and lifted their drinks in a cheers. “Eeeyy.”

I blanched, pivoted, and returned to my room. The door slammed behind me and I rested my back on the cool smooth surface of the wood then lowered my face into my hands. I was officially in hell.

Chapter 8

“Roo.” My whole, dark world shook, and I disapproved.

I scrunched up my face into my pillow and willed the voice away.

“Wake up Roo, he’s on his way.”

More shaking. It wasn’t fair. The world shouldn’t be shaking.

“Roo. Oi. Sis!”

I peeled open one eye and found the panic-stricken face of my brother. He didn’t look like a demi-god with extraordinary healing. His eye’s had dark circles and bags under them, his skin was sallow and his golden curls stuck together in matted clumps. He wore white boxer shorts and no shirt, revealing dark purple and blue clouded swirls painted over his entire torso and arm, a testament to his own territorial influence back at the Empire.

“Bro, you need more sleep. You don’t look so good.”

“Bullshit, I’ve had more sleep than you. You only went to bed an hour ago.”

“Ah, no. I don’t think so. I went to bed around midnight.”

“Uh, uh.” He stood back with his arms crossed and grimaced. “Don’t you dare think you can get away without cleaning up when you made half the mess. We were having a nice quiet X-Box tournament until you showed up and demanded we play ‘Flip, Sip or Strip’.”

“Say what?” I pulled the blankets up to my chin. I didn’t remember anything.

Lincoln shook his head. “Regardless of the shenanigans you got us into last night, we need to move. You have to follow me to my training session, remember? It takes about five minutes to walk there and we have to be there in ten. So I’d get going if I were you. We can’t be late.”

He left the room.

I was just about to ask what clothes I should wear when my mouth snapped shut before a syllable could get out. Strewn all over the floor was a variety of clothing items ranging from lacy underwear to a black leather jacket. Everything looked tried on. Almost like someone had a slumber party in my room and invited all their girlfriends.

Uneasiness dropped in my stomach like a sinking stone. I didn’t remember putting those clothes there and, on closer inspection, they were all my size. I picked up blue jeans—my size. Flowery sun dress—my size. Fluorescent joggers—my size. I retraced my steps before I went to bed, but nothing came to mind.

With nerves jangling, I rifled around until I found a decent enough outfit: jeans, a T-shirt that said “I Speak Fluent 90s Rap”, and the joggers. I ran my fingers through my unruly hair, tied it into a loose bun, and then checked myself in the mirror over the dresser when I caught sight of a note stuck to the glass. The blue scrawl across the white paper was recognizable handwriting. My heart leapt.

“I’m sorry, I tried to stop them. Leila.” I read the message aloud as I plucked the paper from its place between the glass and the frame. “Stop who? What the hell?”

But, I had a feeling I knew and ignored it. The logical explanation was that Lincoln had lied. I did not spend the night with him and his friends. I peered into my reflection’s pinched eyes. The girl looking back at me seemed distant, foreign, like the memory of a person I’d forgotten. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. A feeling, that’s all it was. A feeling. Like hairs standing on edge on the back of my neck.

Perhaps I’d had a bad dream.

A pounding on the door snapped me to attention. I joined my brother in the hallway. Walking through the trashed apartment, I noticed he’d done a number on the place. I could see why he was so keen for a little help to clean it up.

“You start over there. I’ll start over here.” Lincoln made to move, but the front door opened. He gaped at me. “Shit. No time.”

It was Squid. Apparently, he’d been there all night, guarding the door on the outside. Seeing as he had no troubles letting people in, I guessed he was placed there to keep me from leaving.

The apartment was a mess. The thought that I’d slept through it without so much of a stir didn’t sit right with me.

Then there was Leila’s note.

Squid ushered us out of the apartment and into the hallway. Lincoln dragged through the opulent corridors, rubbing his eyes. Coupled with his matted hair, his inside-out shirt seemed haphazard, like a homeless person, not really packing the recalcitrant punch it had before.

After a few minutes, we stopped in front of a series of elevators. Squid punched the down button and returned to me with his hands behind his back. He stared vacantly into the air.

Slipping away would be hard with him around.

But I needed to see the library—or depository—or whatever it was called. A place like that must have a great one. It should have the answers I needed about my passengers.

Lincoln groaned beside me. “How did you pull up so well? You drank more than me and you partied harder than me. I couldn’t keep up. Even my Nephilim blood isn’t enough to recover. I’m shattered. But you’re perky as anything today. Your skin is totally glowing, man.” He gestured to my face.

“It’s simple Lincoln, I went to bed early and got my beauty sleep.” I slid a glance right back. “I can’t say the same about you though, maybe you should think twice about blowing your study time for party time.”

“Pfft, you did not go to bed early. Well, you did, but then you came out and joined us. Then you stayed up, drank, ordered room service, danced, drank some more and did some home shopping with Reaper and Mary. After you gave those two dye jobs, you modeled the lingerie for us then you all pinky swore you were sisters for life. With too much estrogen in the air, there was no chance of us boys getting any further than second base. Eventually, I told them all to piss off, and I hit the hay. Alone. Do you know how annoyed I am that you hijacked my chicks?”

While he was busy figuring out the extent of his anger with gesticulating hands, a heavy feeling settled in my stomach. I didn’t like the idea forming in the back of my head so changed the subject. If I ignored it, it didn’t happen.

Chapter 9

The elevator doors opened to a second sub-basement level with the same layout plan as the first. Immediately opposite us on the wall was the oroboros symbol. A long curving corridor that no doubt ended back where it started greeted us on either side. Everything was circular here. I guessed it was to remind us of the symbol they had plastered everywhere.

Squid moved. Lincoln and I followed. We walked right. The outside walls had the same surreal fake windows as the top level. When we moved along, I noted more house names on plaques above each door. There was Cetus House with a wood carving of a whale looping through the letters. Epsilon House with a snake, Corvus House with a crow, and Aldebaran House with a bull’s head and horns. They were the ones who came for dinner last night. Their motto was Citius, Altius, Fortius which meant faster, higher, stronger.

I stopped at the front of that door and wondered where Cash stayed, whether he had his own House plaque and what his motto was, then forced the thought away. I had to stop thinking of him. If I couldn’t, I’d never be able to do this on my own, and I had to. I simply must. For the names on that list, for my friends, and for my freedom.

But Cash’s face wouldn’t fade from my mind. It had only been one night since I’d seen him last, but the memory of our embrace at the registrar’s office was a siren calling me back to him. My traitorous heart missed him. I rubbed my chest, aching with longing. That same ache gave me the strength to steer my thoughts away because, when we eventually split up, through death or something else, my heart would shatter. Better to toughen up now than to be too weak to hold it together.

“Hurry up,” Squid growled a few feet in front of me.

Lincoln noticed me staring at the plaque on the wall. “Bunch of bull-headed meat-heads, if you ask me.”

Squid cleared his throat.

Right.

After more walking, we turned inwards into the center of the Ludus where there were more rooms. The sound of people talking, and the buzz of auras filtered through before we reached the double doors. The vast space inside was a cross between an auditorium and a stadium. Not football sized, but large enough to have a middle concrete field and a few rows of seats on the outside for spectators. Kind of like an indoor gladiator pit. The middle area already held a number of people engaged in combat style training activities, their sounds echoing in the chamber. We must have come down another two levels for the ceiling to be so high. The seats around the outskirt slowly filled with spectators. I took a step inside the door with my mouth open in awe. Lincoln shoved me in the back so I continued to the center of the room.

As we moved, a hush came over the crowd and with it, the weight of many eyes landed on my shoulders.

I felt myself shrink a little as I followed Squid to a circular padded mat where a strong looking woman and a lithe, tall man were engaged in a sparring match.

Squid didn’t speak. He simply walked up to a man watching from the sidelines and stared wordlessly, eye-to-eye. The man, who appeared to be the mentor of the two, lowered his gaze, bowed and signaled the two on the mat to follow him.

And just like that, we had a place to train.

Squid moved to the side of the mat where the other mentor had stood and folded his arms, assuming the vacant position.

“So…” I let my voice trail off as I surveyed the room. “What happens now?”

Lincoln shrugged and pulled out his phone to check his messages. I felt rather awkward standing on the exercise mat without exercising. And dressed in jeans. All other participants wore Lycra fitness attire, and the occasional fighter wore leather armor plates across their arms and chest.

I tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey.”

He sighed and deigned to look at me from under his scruffy curls. “What.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be doing stuff, like, you know, training and stuff?”

“Nah. If Dad isn’t here, we don’t have to do jack.”

“At the risk of sounding like a broken record, what about the trials? Shouldn’t I be learning how to pass them?”

He raised an eyebrow. “If you haven’t got it by now, you’re not going to.”

“But that’s shit! I don’t want to be canceled.”

“You won’t. You’re royalty. Like I said, you’ll be kept to breed. It’s not the worst thing in the world. So it’s like, why bother trying to pass the trial if you will be here, anyway?”

“But if we pass the trial, we can do what we want, right?”

He glanced at Squid then shrugged me off. “If we pass.”

Fury boiled in my veins. The weight of attention pushed at me. It grated me. Everyone else worked hard with their teams while I stood there, awkward and in jeans, waiting for something to do.

I could do this on my own. No mentor, or a stupid royal father. Me on my own. I could pass and then leave.

I stormed the short gap to stand in front of Squid.

“I’m going to the depository.”

“No.”

“Try to stop me and I’ll make you hurt.”

He looked down at me, unperturbed. “No.”

Whatever. I turned. A rough hand to my shoulder spun me back around. My temper exploded, and I let instinct take over. I knew there were tactics that didn’t work on him, like a zap of electricity to his body. Unable to feel pain, he’d almost laughed when I did that earlier. But, like Cash, who was immune, I always found a work around.

I had the power to manipulate air. It wasn’t storm and tempest type manipulation, but more telekinetic. I silently threw up a shield of thickened air around his body, then, hoping he wouldn’t notice, I contracted that shield so it drew closer to his body, inch by inch. His hand fell from my shoulder as the air pushed it away. I tightened the shield, cranked it up. His blank expression turned inwards, and a frown etched between his eyebrows as he understood the silent attack. He opened his mouth, but I stuffed thick air in. His mouth opened and closed like a fish and I realized I’d gone too far. I eased up and let a little air trickle in, only enough to keep him alive.

Then I left. Screw them all. I didn’t give a rat’s ass if Bruce turned up. He didn’t give a damn about me. Off to the depository. Wherever that was.

* * *

I asked a few passersby in the corridor for directions. The first few gaped at me like I had two heads, but then I noticed a petite girl dressed in a long, scholarly type robe rushing past. The swish of her fabric rustled with her urgency like a whispering heartbeat. She looked so smart. Surely she headed towards some sort of learning area. I rushed after her and tried to hail her down, but the minute she caught sight of my face, she ignored me. It didn’t matter, anyway. I trailed her to some doors that showed a glimpse of books beyond when they opened. Above the doors, the sign said: Depository. Bingo.

Outside the room, I leant against the cold, concrete walls and caught my breath. If I went in looking as I did, it was likely I’d get the same reaction. Nobody wanted to talk because I was the red headed soul-eating princess.

I had to look different.

Instantly, I closed my eyes, counted to ten and willed my hair to change from red to a fuzzy brown. My skin changed to a similar color. A thousand electric ants skipped over my body as the metamorphosis took place. The physical change was real, not an illusion-construct or glamor like Marc could do. Every time I used my witch-like powers, a little thrill of achievement skipped up my bones.

When I opened my eyes and held my hand in front of my face, I saw smooth brown skin. Perfect. It might be temporary. It might hold. I wasn’t too sure. Fingers crossed it worked.

Chapter 10

I strode into the depository triumphant and then stood at the entrance to soak up the atmosphere. The air smelled of ink, dusty paper, and ancient leather bound books. Excellent. Containing my excitement was hard as I surveyed the shelves filled with books from top to bottom throughout the large room. Just like you’d see in a public library, there were nooks scattered throughout to sit and read or study. Golden candelabras dangled from the ornate paneled ceiling. They matched the decor on the study tables below.

I went straight to an official looking counter in an alcove not far away where a man in a maroon hooded robe peered at a large, open leather-bound book. There was an embroidered whale at the breast of the robe. Must be Cetus. They were the House with the whale on the plaque. His hood had pooled around his shoulders, revealing a balding head. Little tufts of hair remained around his ears. It reminded me of a monk from the Robin Hood story. His aging hairstyle didn’t match his youthful face and his aura was a little on the strong side. No star-map as far as I could see. All of these things made me think he was Seraphim, not Nephilim.

The pages the monk turned were yellowed, frayed and very fragile. He flipped each leaflet with a short stick, afraid to let the oils of his fingers taint the paper. The book must be ancient.

“Excuse me.” My voice echoed loudly in the large room. “Could you please tell me where to find the books on soul manipulation?”

“Shh,” came a hiss from somewhere behind him. A quick glance confirmed there was another robed man reading at a desk further away in the dingy alcove. A tiny lamp shone on his tiny book.

I tried again in a lower voice. “Hello.”

The monk scanned my appearance with derision. “Are you talking to me?”

“Yes, I am. Are you the librarian?”

He blinked, as though he still couldn’t believe I had the nerve to speak to him. He must have decided he couldn’t possibly deign to respond because he huffed and returned to his book, mumbling under his breath: “Librarian.”

Too late I remembered my faux pas. Marc had mentioned he’d visited a librarian once, and it was someone who worked with memories, not books. “I’m sorry, I really need help,” I said.

The only move he made was to turn a page.

Not getting anywhere, I contemplated the room. I could search the catalog myself, but it was massive. Thousands of books.

Okay. So, what now? Maybe the person sneaking up behind me could help. I sensed the aura timidly approach and decided to pretend I hadn’t noticed.

Someone cleared their throat behind me.

I turned around to discover the robed girl from earlier. Cut into a short, cropped style, her boyish hair suited her face and gave her a pixie appearance. Everything about her was delicate and demure from her pale skin to her thin bones. I just wanted to wrap her in cotton wool and protect her from every sharp corner in the place. With her softened features, and eager expression, I naturally warmed to her, despite her avoidance of me earlier.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing. I can show you where to look, if you like?” she said, voice breathy and light.

“Oh my God, thank you so much,” I gushed.

“That’s okay.” She moved away, glancing at me over her shoulder. “He’s not a librarian, you know. He’s a historian. Librarians are another department. This way.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured I had something mixed up.”

I promptly followed her toward another section of the room. A full head taller than her, I felt like a clunking giant. My steps dropped heavily next to her dainty ones and, by the time we made it to a far corner of the room, I developed a weird gait to try to smother my noise. None of that mattered though, because when she turned into an aisle and slowed down to read the spines of the books, my mind instantly detoured. The books were older here and smelled more intense. She ran her finger along each, taking her time, her little lips silently moving as she read the words in her mind.

“Here. This is where the section starts.”

“Fantastic. Thank you so much.”

I blinked a few times, trying to read the titles of the leather bound books. As before with the Latin plaques over each house, the jumble of letters made sense in my mind. Another skill I’d siphoned from my passengers and the absorption of The Book of the Dead. Extraordinarily, I could read Latin. If only The Others were good at math.

After a few moments, I realized the girl stood there watching me. I caught her gaze and opened my smile.

Catching herself in an embarrassing position, she jolted. “Sorry. I was just, it’s only that, I…”

I straightened to let her know I listened. No need to rush.

“I… uh.” She glanced at her feet. When she lifted her gaze to mine, it was more purposeful and confident. She gestured at my face. “You changed.”

“Yes, I did.” I went back to the books and read through the titles. “People were being weird to my other appearance, so I thought to try this one. Plus, I’m hiding.”

“Oh, I won’t tell anyone. Don’t worry.”

I smiled and returned to the shelves. A title stood out. Histories of the Inner Workings of Incorporeal Essences. I hooked my finger on the spine and slid the book out.

“How did you know?” I asked, trying to appear disinterested. I didn’t want her to know it was a big deal because then she really might blab and any advantage I had whilst in this place would be gone.

“It’s my job to be perceptive. Cetus House is about discovery and invention. I saw you outside in the same outfit asking other people about the library. Plus, there’s your hair.” She touched her own blond crop. “It’s a little darker than we’re used to seeing down here. I’m sorry I didn’t stop, I had to sign in before my mentor noticed I was late. He’s a bit of a ball buster. The last time one of us was late, he made us sort all the paperclips into height order. It took two days! Anyway, I put two and two together and guessed who you are.”

I palmed my head. The hair color. Of course. It was more common to see an African American looking person down here with blond hair, not brown. “Wow. You are perceptive. I must be more careful in the future. And, don’t mention not stopping. I’m glad you eventually did though.”

“If I may,” she said and pointed to the book. “This one doesn’t have much information on actual soul manipulation. It’s just the history of the inner workings—things like emotions and instincts. This one might be more to your liking.”

She pushed my book back into its spot and retrieved another leather-bound volume. A little frown appeared between her soft brows. “But some of it is in ancient Latin. I can find someone to translate this for you if you like?”

“I think I know how to read it.”

“Oh, you do?”

“Well.” I thought about it. I honestly did not understand there was a difference between ancient Latin and normal Latin. “Can I take a look?”

The girl opened the book in her arms and turned it to face me. She flicked past the first few pages until she found one to her liking.

“Can you read this?”

“Yes. Something about electro-magnetic fields being used to amplify manipulation.”

Her eyes lit up. “Wow. I’ve been trying to decipher that for a while but most of the Watchers don’t bother helping. As long as we pass the trials that’s all they care about. This is truly amazing. What about this?” She pointed.

“Um. That says, something about the weight of human versus Seraphim energy.”

“How interesting.” She flipped to a new page, but the more she turned, the heavier my heart became. The book didn’t appear to have specifics of what I needed about getting The Others out of my body.

“Do you have anything else?”

“Of course. Was there anything in particular about soul manipulation that you wanted?”

I chewed my lip. How much to tell? To help me decide, I scrutinized her aura. It felt smooth and calm, no animosity emanating off her. Every instinct said to trust her, but I’d been wrong in the past. Petra had masqueraded as my Aunt Lucy for three years in front of my face and I had no clue.

“I’m Wren, by the way,” she said and tapped the tiny whale on her robe. “I’m from Cetus House.”

The Others stirred. Wren. Why was that name so familiar?

Urser’s list, they answered.

Oh my God. They were right. Wren’s name was on the list with the future date next to it. This poor, innocent delicate girl was going to be a victim of my father. The worst scenarios played in my head and I had to bite my lip to stop my thoughts meandering down a dark path.

She waited expectantly.

“What’s Cetus House mean?” I asked.

She laughed, and it filled the rooms and echoed. She slapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. It’s just I’ve never heard of anyone who didn’t know that.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “You said something about inventing, right?”

She nodded. “That’s part of it. Mathieson is our mentor. He’s one of the stuffy historians you met out there. Cetus House is all about knowledge, and yes, inventing and discovering. In here, we’re the keepers of history on this planet. We have another lab where scientists work to make things. That’s always underground and not really my thing. I prefer the quiet predictability of books, at least with them I can get outside now and then to visit human libraries. With the science lab, you’re stuck between four white walls every day, but it’s the way of the House. See, the whale is our emblem, and our motto is ‘Scientia Potentia Est’.”

“Knowledge is Power, of course. Urser is the bear, but I don’t have anything with that emblem on.”

“Victoria aut mors.” Her face turned grave. “That’s your motto.”

“Victory or Death.” I stuck out my tongue. “Ridiculous, right?”

“Shh.” She shushed me, but giggled all the same.

I laughed too and felt lighter knowing I made a friend in this horrid place.

“You should hear Eridanus House’s motto.” She leaned in and whispered: “Semper Virilis.”

“Always virile?”

“When you meet them, you’ll understand.”

“I’m La Roux,” I said. “But my friends call me Roo.”

“Nice to meet you, La Roux.” She shifted the book to one arm and held out the other.

“Please, call me Roo.”

That made her dip her head, but I caught the smile on her face when she let go of my hand.

“So, what was it specifically that you wanted to know? Because we also have an electronic catalog. There could be some direction in there.”

I hesitated for a while. Too long, in fact, and uncertainty began to flicker on Wren’s face, but her aura remained eager and light. At some point, I’d have to take a risk, otherwise I’d never get out of here.

“I think I’m a Soul-Eater,” I stated, unable to meet her gaze. “But I don’t know for sure. It’s a bit embarrassing and I try to keep it hidden.”

She said nothing for a moment, then lowered her voice. “You’ll need another section then.”

Wren slid her book back onto the shelves and motioned for me to follow her. We stepped surreptitiously through the maze of shelves until we came to a dark corner of the depository. The cooler air caused gooseflesh to prickle my skin. Wren looked over her shoulder a few times. I gathered we were going somewhere we shouldn’t and couldn’t help the excitement dancing up my spine.

“The books on devolution and stuff we don’t talk about are here,” she whispered. The books in this section weren’t looked after as well as the first. Piles stacked high, book upon book, threatened to topple from a crowded bench.

She sighed. “This is one of my jobs, sorting these out. Now, where did I see… ah, here they are.” She pulled two books out of the stack and handed them to me with pity.

The heavy items sank into my arms. “Thanks.”

“If I could be so bold as to say, just because you’re a Soul-Eater, doesn’t mean you have to behave the way they say you should. Just because you’re Urser, doesn’t mean you need to stay.”

“Easier said than done. I feel like I’m fighting a losing battle sometimes. Nobody is helping me out. Except Cash, but he’s being blocked by my father. I suddenly have a few days in which to learn years of Game theory, and all I can think about is getting these irritating souls out of me so I can finally think straight. I don’t like that part of me.”

“I understand.” She nodded and pulled back the collar of her robe to reveal the star-map covering her décolletage. “This map means I’m in Cetus House, and everyone from that territory are super smart. It’s like a world built on ideas. Cetus is where the original scientists came from. You know, the ones who made the humans for the Queen? But, here’s the thing, I don’t enjoy being here. I want to live outdoors and…” She halted, catching herself in a moment of forbidden truth.

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone.”

“I can talk to animals. Well, it’s more like me talking and them understanding, they’re not that smart,” she said. “It’s torture being made to stay within these walls. I feel blocked and stifled. So many rules and stupid caveats. If only I were more like the other members of my house, especially my brother.”

“So he doesn’t have your skills?”

“No, he’s from Cetus. He understands how anything works, just by being near it long enough. It’s uncanny; I’ve seen him reprogram a computer with no knowledge of coding skills and pull apart an engine then put it back together. He’s always got his nose buried in a book, or the web.”

“Sounds like the kind of guy I’d get along with.”

“He’s great. But I’m different. As soon as I pass my trials, I’m going out there into the wild and never coming back.”

“Good idea.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I might be new here, but I’m the first to admit that I think the whole game is ridiculous.”

She gave me a sidelong glance. “But we’re born for this. Literally. We have responsibilities. At some point in our old Empire life, we put up our hand to be part of this. Don’t you think we owe it to that other self to try our hardest? I mean, we’re going to be pissed if we get back to the Empire and find out that we stuffed our evolution because we didn’t do as we were told.”

I shrugged. “So they tell us. I don’t know if I believe them. What do we have instincts for if not to trust them? Maybe rules are made to be broken.”

Wren’s eyes glazed over. “Sometimes I wonder the same thing. Why was I put in Cetus House when I clearly should’ve been in something else? Kind of like Ava. She’s not meant to be in Epsilon House, but she is. There’s an explanation for her, though.”

“Ava? I don’t know who Ava is, but I agree. This game isn’t perfect.” The second I said her name, I had a moment of déjà vu. Maybe I knew her.

At that moment, a shadow passed at the end of the bookshelf. We both flinched and glanced over just in time to catch a body do a double take. A head pop backwards to inspect us.

Cash.

His body followed his head. When he stood at the end of the row, hands on hips, I got a good snapshot of his sinful physique. His thin T-shirt stretched across his broad chest and firm biceps. It was hard not to stare at that body. Lucky for me, I could stare all day and he had no idea it was me looking like this.

Wren glanced at him with female admiration flashing in her eyes. A stab of jealousy ran through me when I realized I didn’t like her, or anyone looking at him with the same knowing appreciation.

Cash sniffed the air in my direction. His fiery eyes locked on mine and relaxed.

“There you are,” he said and let his eyes run over Wren suspiciously before coming back with a frown. “Why do you look like that?”

“You can tell it’s me too?” I threw my hands in the air. “Why do I even bother with a disguise?”

“I know your scent.” Something about his words had me weak at the knees. He’d committed my scent to memory. “But, you may as well drop it,” he continued. “We need to get back to training. I’m taking over your session. We have to do physical and strategy at the same time to catch up with everything you’ve missed over the past few years.” His mouth twitched. “Also, you’ve left Squid in a bind.”

“I don’t care about him. And, and—” Damn it. I swallowed hard and cleared my throat, gathering my decorum.

“He’s not your mentor. We’ve had the ritual. There’s no going back. You should’ve waited for me at the arena.”

“I didn’t know you were coming! In fact, I knew nothing. They weren’t doing anything to help with my training. I don’t have time to wait around for other people to fix things for me, especially when deals are being made to auction me off as a stupid breeding animal. No offense, Wren. I like animals. Especially baby joeys.”

“None taken.”

Cash’s impassive face focused on me, but he didn’t waver. “As your mentor, I’m asking you, please, revert to your original appearance and join me back on the mat for training.”

Impassively, he folded his arms, biceps bulging.

There was no use fighting when I knew he was right; I needed his help to pass the trials. The alternative was spending hours here scouring for books that might not exist. I focused inwards and reverted my physical appearance to its natural state. Fire ants erupted over my skin. I welcomed the distracting sensations. My body shivered and shook until I couldn’t stand it and dipped my head, dark hair falling across my face.

Through the frizz, I could see Cash step forward, concerned.

But I held my hand up to block him. I didn’t think he realized I could see his expression through the cascade of my hair because he let worry shine through, and you only worried about those you cared for. That little show of emotion shining through meant he had been telling the truth about wanting to stick around. I bit my lip and moved my gaze to my feet until my hair smoothed out from its frizz and dropped in length. The tingling in my body ceased, and I straightened. It felt as though I’d been sitting for a long time, and my skin felt tight and rigid, so I stretched and cracked my neck.

Wren sighed and fiddled with her pixie short hair. “I wish I could do that.”

I smiled at her. “Change your hair?”

“Yeah, I hate this blond, that’s why I cut it short.”

“You know I can help with that,” I said with a smirk.

“Roo,” Cash stated. He wasn’t giving up.

“Fine. I’m coming.” I gave the books back to Wren. “Thank you, I’ll be back for those another time. Unless I can take them with me?”

“Not really, but the depository is open twenty-four hours a day,” she said.

“Excellent. Maybe I can help you some other time with your hair.”

“I’d like that.”

I memorized the area so I could find my way back and continue my search for soul information. After the blackout I experienced last night, I couldn’t afford to ignore The Others any longer.

Chapter 11

As we walked back to the training area, I stole a peek at Cash when I thought he wasn’t looking. It was impossible to ignore him. Even if his aura hid from me, his presence couldn’t. He made it hard to breathe simply by being there. Awareness itched at me, always there, begging for attention.

He was there.

Next to me.

Inches away, ready to touch.

I groaned. Going my separate way was harder than I thought, especially when every fiber of my being wanted to be near him. I missed him already.

I stopped just before the arena entrance.

“Cash,” I started, not knowing how to finish. I wanted to put into words what my body felt, and to say I was sorry, but my throat locked up. This voicing emotions business was hard. No wonder he had trouble with it. And I was the stupid woman who chastised him for it.

He mistook my hesitance. “I’m your mentor. Nothing Urser, or his lackeys, or even you say will change that. I have every right to train you. It’s in our blood. We’re linked whether you like it or not. In fact, if it comes to it, there’s a test we can do in front of everyone to prove it. I’ve called the Tribunal in. That’s why I’m late.”

He opened the door and held it for me to enter.

In my absence, the room had filled with a throng of people and most of them were around the mat I had vacated earlier. A heavy feeling rolled in my gut. Whoops. If I had wanted to go unnoticed, I did a terrible job at it.

A loud and stinging smack on my butt brought a squeak to my lips. To my mortification, the smack evolved into a grope and squeeze on my left cheek. I turned around, fist ready to punch the offender and discovered Lincoln’s friend, Drew. He dressed in full boy band get up, complete with backwards cap. His hand was having a field day on my bottom and he tried to pull me towards himself like he owned me. “Yo, biatch. Yo’ass is so fine I just wanna—” He wiggled his eyebrows and bit his lip.

“What the hell are you doing?” I slapped his hand and took a step backwards, but his paws were still on me.

His eyes widened, and we had an awkward moment of understanding the other was not doing the expected.

“Get off.” I chopped him until he dropped his hold.

His expression turned to confusion and his brows met in the middle. He tried to cover up my rejection with a condescending smirk to Cash. “What’s her problem, yo?”

“Her problem is that she will scrape a flattened Player off her shoes in a minute.” The devil shone out of Cash’s narrowed eyes.

The kid sighed in dramatic exaggeration and gave me a pointed look. “Last night you told me to come slap yo’ass when I saw you again and then you’d give me a little somethin’-somethin’, you feel me?”

“I would never say that. That’s ridiculous. And I’m not feeling anything on you, thank you very much.”

“That’s not what she said last night.” Drew snorted and slapped Cash on the chest in a macho bonding sort of way. “She gave so good I needed to lie down afterwards. I’m still weak at the knees.”

Cash looked at his chest as though burned. Then Drew’s words sunk in. “What did he say?” he asked me through a locked jaw.

“Um…” Heat rose up my neck.

Could Lincoln have been telling the truth—had I gotten up last night and joined his party? And what the hell did “gave so good” mean? I doubted I would have voluntarily moved within two feet of that childish punk.

Drew scrubbed his face with his hand and groaned. “Yo, I got not time for this—I’ll see you later, Roo-Roo.” He slinked off, hands in his pockets, shoulders slouched.

“I don’t think so, buddy.”

Cash rounded on me as someone bumped into my shoulder to get past. The room got crowded, and we blocked the main thoroughfare into the room. He pulled me to the side and pinned me with his penetrating, dual colored stare.

“You’d rather be with him.” He lowered his accusatory voice for my ears only. “Is this your way of cutting ties with me?”

I saw red. “Are you suggesting that I had—” God, I couldn’t even say it. “That I was intimate with him?”

“Were you?”

I opened my mouth like a fish out of water, but couldn’t answer, because I didn’t know.

Did I? I asked The Others.

Silence. How convenient. They always seemed to hide when Cash was around.

Cash’s jaw ticked with the effort to keep his face impassive, but the turmoil beneath his eyes was bright as day.

“I would never…” I started, but then someone called out to us. Our attendance in the room hadn’t gone unnoticed. The people on the mat glanced in our direction, and soon the crowd parted to make way for a tall, olive skinned, silver haired young woman. She wore an Amazonian leather breastplate over a black Lycra singlet, and her pants were black Lycra with leather knee pads, thigh guards and a weapons belt wrapped around her hips. The wannabe Wonder Woman cut an imposing figure with her high cheekbones and leather bound hair. She scanned the area in front of her until her gaze landed on me, then her icy blue eyes narrowed.

“You.”

In an amateur move, I checked over my shoulder to confirm she wasn’t talking to anyone else. Then I patted my chest. “Me?”

“Yes, you idiot. What have you done to Squid?”

“He tried to stop me from leaving so I stopped him from following.”

By now she stood in front of me, face to face. Up close she wasn’t as tall as I’d thought from a distance, but imposing, all the more. She gave me a vitriolic once over.

“You’ve breached the peace terms of the Ludus.”

“Ava,” Cash interrupted. “It’s none of your business. Go back to your house mat.”

Ava? This was the same Ava who was supposed to be in this body instead of me?

She turned her fiery gaze on Cash. “It is my business, and well you know it.”

I left her and Cash to the politics and sidestepped to see to the mess I’d made. Jeez. If I had known it would cause so many problems, I would’ve thought twice about—no. No, I lied. I still would have done it. Squid was a pain in the butt. My father was also a pain in the butt. Deciding to stay with them was becoming more tiresome with time.

Think of the people on the list.

Wren. Lincoln. Cash. And they were only the names I’d recognized. No. I had to swallow my pride and stay so I could look for more evidence.

I sidestepped Ava and nudged my way through the mob to where Squid slouched against the wall at the edge of the training mat. Lack of oxygen had turned his skin the color of an old prune. He gasped every few seconds and squeezed a little air into his lungs. I had incorrectly assumed the airlock I placed around him would dissolve once my energy holding it left the room, but the air density was still strong. How was I going to undo that?

Squid noticed me and gave me daggers.

“Uh… sorry. I didn’t think that would hold.”

“Didn’t think that would hold?” Ava approached behind me. “What kind of second rate Player are you?”

“One who didn’t even know she was one until a few months ago,” I shot back.

She sneered. “For someone who doesn’t know much, you sure know how to ruin a lot of lives.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Squid made a movement that brought my attention back to him. Right. I should find out how to soften the airlock. I prodded with my power until I found a weak spot. My energy fused with the hard air and poured into the weak spot. I shattered the block to the wind. Everyone standing within a few feet felt air rush their faces.

A shrill whistle sounded in the arena that captured everyone’s attention. It was everywhere at once and echoed in the round room. People scattered to various positions, seemingly in their house groups, standing to attention. I was left on the mat with Squid, Cash and Lincoln. Ava lingered nearby, not quite ready to commit to one spot.

My eyes darted across the room, trying to find a reason for sudden military-like behavior.

“Tribunal, finally,” Cash said from the corner of his mouth. “Stand next to me.”

I shuffled to his side and stood waiting for something to happen.

Two minutes later, the double door entrance opened, and a goddess with baby pink hair walked in. She dressed in a white sheath that displayed her assets, including incredible long legs. Her smooth, alabaster skin shone like she held the moon in her bones and her face was worthy of the cover of a magazine. It was the woman from the office scene in the fake window. Guess they weren’t fake windows, then.

Behind her came Felix wearing round spectacles, and a second woman who had olive skin, short dark hair and almond eyes that angled upward. She looked familiar.

Each of them had a silver oroboros emblem embroidered on their white attire.

The pink-haired woman noted Squid on his knees and lifted a neat eyebrow. She walked over. Her clicking heels suddenly muffled when she made it to the rubber mat.

“Why are you not showing respect, Player?” Her British accent was crisp and cultured, unlike Marc’s occasional cockney one. “My plane landed two hours ago. I’ve no patience for this.”

Squid pulled himself up. “I apologize for my tardiness.”

“She attacked him,” accused Ava as she pointed a finger at me. “She breached the terms of the Ludus and nearly killed him.”

The pink woman trailed her vision from Ava to Squid to me. Then she discovered Cash next to me and lingered.

“Hunter,” she stated, eyes sparkling with familiarity.

He gave her a curt nod in return. “Jacine.” Then after an obvious hesitation, he nodded at her companions. “Felix. Octavia.”

They offered him a small nod.

What was that about?

“Is this true?” Jacine asked Cash. “Was he attacked maliciously?”

“Perhaps you should ask him.”

“I didn’t ask the man, I asked you.”

Cash swallowed. “No, it wasn’t malicious, it was self-defense.”

“Bullshit. Watch the tapes.” Ava stormed over to us, pointing her finger. “She’s a freaking Soul-Eater. She can’t be trusted.”

“Language, Player.” Jacine and her two companions lifted their brows at Ava. She slowed her approach, but didn’t stop.

Jacine faced me. “What is your name?”

“Roo—sorry, La Roux Urser, ma’am.”

“Dove, there is no need to call me ma’am. I’m anything but.”

“Sorry.”

“So, you are the infamous Urser girl who flew under the radar for all these years. Well, what do you have to say for yourself, hm? Did you attack this Player?”

“He was trying to keep me from leaving the room, and he had no right.”

“Shit,” Cash mumbled under his breath.

Jacine sighed. “Very well. By your own admission, you have breached the terms of the Ludus and will be sent to confinement until we can gather all the evidence and resolve this further. Where is your mentor?”

I paled. “What do you mean, confinement?”

“Where is your mentor?” the almond eyed woman repeated.

“I’m her mentor,” Cash said. “And this is unnecessary.”

All three of the Tribunal studied Cash.

“But you’re a Player,” said Felix.

“Yes, I’m aware of that and have been trying to prove it. I am independent, undeclared and I’m the one who sent for you all to witness the proof of our ritual.”

“A rogue ordering the Tribunal around.” He clicked his tongue like a disappointed teacher. “Risky.”

“Not in my book. Look, we’ve done the ritual, it can be proven, just let us do it and we can all go on with our day.”

“We are not discussing that right now. She has been accused of breaking the accords. It must be addressed first.”

“Bullshit. I was attacked on site only a day ago by a Watcher and nothing was done about that.”

“Yeah, and somebody tried to kill me in my room—with a bomb!” I added.

Cash’s head whipped my way, his eyes large. “What?”

“I’ll explain later,” I mumbled under my breath, then raised my voice. “It’s true, he was attacked at the registrar’s office and Bruce’s men subdued him at the entrance so he could drag me into the Ludus by my hair.”

Take that bastard!

On the surface, the Tribunal had patience made of steel, but underneath, I felt their auras bubbling in turmoil.

Jacine’s perfect face froze. She blinked, then two fingers on each hand lifted to rub her temples. When she was done, she sighed and looked at Cash. “You were attacked by a Watcher?”

“Urser didn’t touch you,” Squid shot at Cash. “I did. And it was at the administration. Technically, that’s not official Ludus grounds and the peace accords are not valid.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You were under Urser’s orders.” Cash stepped toward the large soulless man, now straightening himself. “How is it not on official Ludus grounds, it’s in the fucking complex.”

“Language,” Jacine warned.

“Correction. It’s at the front of the complex,” Squid said.

“Enough!” Jacine chopped a manicured hand through the air. “We’re discussing the infraction at hand. We’ll have the surveillance tapes monitored, however, if it is as this Player says, and the infraction occurred at the registrar’s office, then there is nothing we can do.” Jacine’s eyes bored into Cash with so much attention that I felt there was something beneath her stare, something more. She glanced at her companions from the Tribunal and then back to Squid. “Are you wanting to lodge a formal complaint against this woman’s vicious intentions toward you?”

Squid glared his dark eyes at me. “Yes.”

“You bastard,” I snapped. “You kept me a prisoner.”

Cash opened his mouth to speak but Jacine cut him off with a warning look.

“Later. We’ve disturbed the training as it is.” She waved her hand at Cash and then glanced at me. “What happens behind the closed doors of your house is of no concern to me, but when you bring your grievances into the public arena of the Ludus that is the problem.” Without waiting for my response, she moved to the man next to her. “Felix, if you would be so kind as to escort Ms. Urser to the holding cell. Octavia if you could interview the victim. And hunter, come with me.” She turned to the watching crowd, including the smug Ava. “As for the rest of you, carry on with your training. The trials begin in a few short days. You can’t afford to waste any time.”

Chapter 12

What possible reason could Squid have to send me to confinement?

The question grated on my nerves the entire walk from the arena to an official looking room on the level closest to the surface. The only logical answer was they wanted me to fail. Passing had never been an option. Realizing that angered me so much my fingers heated and sporadically slipped electricity until sparks left holes in my jeans. I flexed and pumped my fists to shake it off, but had trouble controlling my abilities. This happened when I felt helpless, and now I felt helpless to stop it.

The more time I spent at the Ludus, the more I felt I flailed in the ocean without a life vest. I needed more information. I needed someone who knew the rules about the Game better than anyone. I needed Marc.

Before making it to the holding room, I had to walk through an open-planned office area that reminded me of the police station back home. Official looking people with hard faces went about their work at a series of overstuffed desks. I was taken back to the moment I was arrested and then bagged and tagged as a witch. If it hadn’t been for Cash bailing me out, I’d have been executed or burned at the stake. For a fleeting moment, I felt as though I’d traveled so far, but somehow never left home. The same problems kept popping up in my life. First, I was the town pariah because they thought I was a witch. Now I was the reject because they think I’m the worst the Seraphim have to offer—a Soul-Eater.

Never one to miss an opportunity when I felt my lowest, The Others said, She accused you in front of everyone. You’re not to be trusted.

Perhaps Ava was right. My powers were unpredictable. I couldn’t even stop my fingers from sparking.

Eat her soul and show her what power means.

And I couldn’t keep my thoughts in check. What hope did I have?

They placed me inside a cold, windowless holding cell. History repeating. It had a lumpy bed, a sink and a toilet. In a few seconds, I managed to think of at least three outcomes for myself. I could escape—easy, but they’d find me. Being the Gamekeeper, Marc only needed to think of me and he’d turn up in my personal space—then there were the nano things they injected into me. They were supposed to track our whereabouts but that wrongness I’d felt at the start wasn’t there anymore. I wondered if I’d purged them from my body like any other foreign object. The registrar’s attendant had said the signal was warped. Perhaps they’d never taken to my body in the first place, or perhaps I just couldn’t feel them anymore. The second option involved me manipulating my captor’s minds with an airborne hex like a virus, or maybe I could disguise myself… no. There was no escape. Everyone saw me attack Squid, there would be consequences.

I laid back on the cot, noticing the grumble in my tummy for the first time. I had no time for breakfast when Lincoln had woken me up.

Just a couple more days, and I’ll be through this in one way or another. I’ll either fail, become a breeder, die, or pass the trials. Life at The Cauldron with Kitty, Alvin and Joe, sounded like a distant dream.

I rolled to my side. Something lumpy in my jeans pocket felt uncomfortable. My fingers closed around the smooth metal surface of the Ducati keyring and my heart squeezed. Escape. Maybe Cash had known it would come to that.

* * *

An hour later, the door opened.

I guessed it had been an hour because I’d counted all the corners in the room to the beat of a song that lasted three minutes. And I’d done that twenty times.

Jacine walked in with Cash trailing behind. Seeing him, I hastily sat up and straightened my hair. My spirits lifted knowing he’d been true to his word. He came back for me.

“Well then, dove,” Jacine said. “It’s your lucky day. After discussing your situation with your mentor, we’ve come to an agreement. Seeing as the Player was not permanently harmed, I think this can all be chalked up to a misunderstanding with a training exercise.”

“Okay,” I said, wary, but I got up. I didn’t want to look a gift-horse in the mouth. I wanted lunch.

Jacine’s aura was interesting. And unwelcome. Not the type you’d normally see. Powerful, yes, but eager to connect. It wanted to mix with mine. Or Cash’s, if she could find it. Her energy reached for him and he had no idea. It made me completely irate. I wanted her away from him. Instinctively, I sent my energy out to block hers and she frowned. She knew something was off but, unlike me, she couldn’t read auras. I wondered what her godly power was, who she represented in ancient mythology, if anything at all. Not all Watchers made their presence known to humans in ancient times. Some stayed away from them altogether. Others couldn’t help themselves and became revered and feared deities in history.

And then there were people like Cash—Orion, the Archangel Michael, whoever he was—who’d done something incredible, and had been immortalized in song and story. My fingers closed around the keyring in my pocket and my thumb stroked the surface. Cash was something special.

He caught my gaze and my heart skipped a beat. I shouldn’t be so stubborn. Sure, he’d wanted to leave the Game, to leave me, but he said he’d made a mistake. That his purpose was here and he would not change his mind. Ever since he’d declared that, he’d been true to his word. It was me who’d left him. It was me who lied to him.

“So, I’m free to go?” I asked.

“Yes, you can go.” Jacine shot Cash a knowing glance and placed a familiar hand on his forearm.

My eyes couldn’t leave where their touch met and lingered. I shouldn’t care. So why did it hurt to see?

Cash stepped forward, out of her range. “Let’s go.”

“Thank you,” I said to Jacine as I left.

“Don’t thank me, yet.” She gave a Cheshire smile. “You still have to pass.”

Chapter 13

“What was that about?” I asked as we left the official’s room and moved down the corridor.

“What?” Cash replied, straight-faced.

“The look she gave you.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Don’t try to deflect.”

“Seriously, Roo, drop it. We’re meeting Jed for lunch. Then we’ve got to get back to training. I’ve worked out a schedule with the Tribunal. Your situation is unorthodox, so, despite Urser’s protests, they’re willing to make certain allowances. I’m allowed to take over training during business hours, then you have to go back to him.” He frowned. “I don’t like you being there with no protection and what was the bomb? Were you serious when you said that?”

“I asked you about Jacine first.”

“How can you compare a bomb to a touch?”

“This isn’t a jealousy thing. It’s a secrets thing. You’re keeping something from me.” And I’m keeping something from you. It was on the tip of my tongue. I desperately wanted to tell him about The Others, but if he was still lying to me…

“You’re jealous?”

Heat flamed my cheeks. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Roo. You saw how eager Squid was to get rid of you. Considering all this, I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay there. I want you with me.”

“I agree. They don’t want me to pass, but we haven’t found out their plan yet.”

“Stuff their plan. We’ll find another way.”

“People might die.” You. You might die!

Cash took my elbow and guided me to a shadowed adjoining corridor. He stepped into my personal space, crowding me with his big body. So close. Tension vibrated through the air. I wanted to be angry at him, but became consumed with thoughts of his body heat. That impossible awareness of him was intoxicating. I stepped back. There was nowhere to go and my butt hit the wall. I placed my palms on the cool surface; a reprieve from the blistering need building in my bones. Don’t panic. The important thing was to not let my emotions show on my face. But the truth was, I liked it when he looked at me that way, as though there was no one else in the world, as though he barely restrained himself from just taking what he wanted.

“I don’t want to fight,” he said.

“We’re not fighting. We’re being cautious.”

“But you don’t have to be like that with me. It’s me. I got you out of there. I’m on your side. Always.”

My heart pumped, my breath quickened, yet, I couldn’t get my mouth to work.

“Roo.” He gave a pained look that snagged on my lips. “You think you have no freedom now? Think about failure. Not only will you have to breed with strangers, but with the restrictive human laws about women, you’ll be kept prisoner. No interaction with humans. Especially not your friends from back home. Do you understand? Short of killing you, there’ll be no relief.”

“I know,” I fumed, shifting my sexual frustration to anger. I couldn’t let him know the real reason I wanted to stay. His name was on the list. He’d never let me put his life before mine.

“It’s the truth. I’m your only chance of passing.” He reached out, but hesitated, hand dropping to his side. “You think I’m not strong enough, is that it? Besides the Watchers, I’m the only one who remembers the beginning. I know my body isn’t healing like yours, but I’m strong. I can still throw you down in a physical match. I can beat anyone who tries to hurt you. You need me.”

Reminding me of his failing health only drove my panic higher. Yes I needed him. With all my soul. But I needed to keep him safe, and I couldn’t do anything about his biological failures, but I could stop Bruce from hurting him. My fingers heated. A hurricane’s worth of emotion. I chewed my lip and looked down, not wanting him to know I couldn’t control myself.

“Let me in.” Cash dipped his head to meet my gaze. And just like that, the gnawing feeling in my gut drifted away. Cash leaned on the wall beside my head, caging me. “Roo.”

A change occurred in him as he studied me. Eyes once laced with concern now projected something darker, deeper, more carnal.

“You will leave me.” I threw up the words to shield his intensity, but that thought destroyed me. An echo of long lost pain rushed to the surface. No matter how hard I tried, it kept coming back to haunt me. Whether it was his health, the list, the Game… something would inevitably pull us apart and, I couldn’t explain why, but that notion ripped open a gaping hole inside my soul. Why did it hurt so much?

“No.” His knuckles grazed my cheek. “I was.”

My eyes burned, and I rubbed my aching chest.

“La Roux. I was, but I’m not now. I made a mistake. Can’t you see my aura? Can’t you see I’m telling the truth?”

He searched my face for a response because I gave him nothing. The thing was, even if I could find it, his aura might reveal he told the truth, but that meant nothing. Opinions change. Minds change. Tomorrow, he could change.

My body stiffened against the wall, and my hands clenched at my sides. He surrounded me with his clean, hot scent; his masculine odor that reminded me so much of the rain. He shifted until our noses met and our breaths mingled. It had been so long since I’d been with a man. Years. I was tired of being alone. Everything inside me ached for him. My heartbeat quickened, and I let a captive breath rush out. I couldn’t think straight. Being near him made me feel so much. His heightened senses picked everything up, and he stepped in. I arched against him, body wanting to be closer, wanting to be touched.

I shut my eyes, but the sight of his bottom lip dragging through his teeth with restrained need, had burned into my retinas. I heard his hand slide down the wall.

My lashes lifted to see his own widen in response, caught in the act of watching me. Emboldened, his fingers spliced through my hair, holding me, trapping me in his gaze. He pushed the length of his powerful body against mine and then dipped his mouth to brush my lips with his. He moved to my ear, as though he would whisper, but hesitated. Hot breath tickled my skin and turned my bones to jelly. He nudged my neck with his nose and inhaled deeply, trapping me between the wall and his hard body. A sound between a whimper and a moan escaped me.

Cash drew back to hold me with his wild gaze. He tapped my chest with a finger, right where my heart was. “Plato had a theory that humans started as beings with two of everything. Two hearts, two heads, two sets of arms and the same for the legs. Too powerful for the gods, Zeus ripped them in half to keep them from dominating him. The severed humans were miserable, always searching for the other, never satisfied until they rejoined with their missing half. So, you see… I can’t leave you, Roo.” He moved to my neck again, lips fluttering against my skin, sending shock waves into my body. Then he tensed, pulling my hair, tightening his grip. “I’ve tried to stay away, but I can’t. You’re my other half. I’ve dreamt of you since the beginning. It’s always been you.”

Still he waited, hesitant and hoping.

“Cash.” My fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt, desperate to feel the blistering heat of his taut skin, the life beneath.

Something snapped inside me. I bunched the fabric at his chest and pushed him off me. Then in one swift movement, I changed our positions, so he was against the wall, and I was on the outer, panting, hungry for him.

His eyes turned fever bright, but he gave no resistance. Just watched. Waited. Our breaths the only sound in the corridor.

With effort, I pulled his large body off the wall and shoved him back with force. A strangled sound escaped my throat, frustrated, as I shook him again. His shoulders knocked the surface. His short hair fell over his eyes.

I held him at arm’s length, frowning, at war with myself. I saw him, and I saw a future with pain ... but also moments of pleasure.

“Come to my place tonight,” he said, cheeks reddening. “A date. I’ll cook you dinner. Just you and me. I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

I took a step back, surveying his eager eyes, flexing my fists at my side.

He raked a hand through his hair. “I want nothing between us. No secrets.”

I rushed in and closed my mouth on his, swallowing his words.

He groaned, then melted into me, hands splaying against my back, pulling me closer. His tongue plunged into my mouth, plundering, giving me everything he had with desperate intensity. His essence, his emotions, his passion. I believed him. He wanted me. He wouldn’t leave me. Not on purpose. We moved me to the other side of the passageway, my back hit the wall with a thud, and he deepened the kiss. Our teeth knocked in our haste to devour each other.

“Roo,” he whispered between kisses. “Don’t stop me this time.”

I smiled against his demanding mouth. He gave a low growl and nipped my lip. Not hard enough to draw blood, but firm enough to tell me how he felt. His feelings were real. No laughing matter.

I threaded my fingers into his hair and pushed him back to the other side of the hallway. “I know how you feel.” My lips peppered his face, tasting his salty skin.

“I can’t wait,” he said. “I want you now. Against this wall.” He lifted me and shifted my legs around his waist, then ground his hips into me. He was ready. He’d do it.

But we weren’t alone. Auras approached.

“Stop.” I made my legs slide down until my feet hit the floor.

“No.” He nipped my jaw and then sucked on the spot beneath my ear lobe.

I patted his shoulder. “Someone’s coming.”

“Tonight.” He agreed and stepped away, straightening himself. He scrubbed his face with his hand and his eyes met mine. He grinned, dimple deepening. “Tonight.”

My knees went weak. That smile. So rarely seen. A gift for me.

“I’ll find a way to get out,” I promised and returned his smile.

“You won’t need to. The Tribunal has ruled that Urser can’t contain you within the Ludus with the need to train you. So you can tell your father to fuck off.”

My spirits lifted.

“Really?”

“There’ll be royal things Urser will make you do, I’m sure, but generally, you need to train.”

“But you said business hours.”

“Some businesses work late.”

“You could’ve started with that, you know.” I shot him a sideways glance.

“But then we wouldn’t have kissed and made up.”

He pinched my rear as the group of people ambled past our hidden corridor. I squeaked and had to do an awkward recovery wave as the passersby glanced our way.

“Let’s go get lunch,” I said and palmed my heated face.

“I’m starving.” From the slow burn he gave me, I didn’t think he spoke about food.

Chapter 14

After we’d eaten at the cafeteria with Jed, Cash took me back to the mostly empty arena—a stark contrast to the writhing pit it had been before. Only one other couple was on a blue mat on the far side of the circular center. A tall and lithe boy was made weak by his taller, stronger instructor who appeared to be a Watcher. No tattoos in sight—just a powerful physique and an aura to match. I guessed the other trainees were still at lunch, or had moved away for another part of their tutelage, whether it be theory, strategy or something else.

Cash walked me over to a gray mat on the opposite side of the room. As we walked, I couldn’t take my eyes off the two as they fought in hand-to-hand combat. No, hand-to-hand was the wrong description. Their moves were fluid and graceful, flying over the other, yet never touching. Like a dance. Yet, somehow, I didn’t think it was just for entertainment. Each move had purpose. Each thrust, swipe and arching kick had lethal power and agility. I didn’t realize that I’d stopped with my mouth open until Cash pulled up next to me.

“Don’t get distracted.” Cash jabbed his fist towards my head. I blocked with my right on pure instinct. He circled me, slowly, like a predator, musculature rolling beneath his T-shirt. It reminded me of something dangerous beneath the water. “While we’re fighting, I’ll drill you on the written component of the trials. Okay?”

“If you say so,” I replied.

He circled me, fists balled in a boxer’s ready stance. “What did Jed teach you in Houston? Give me a run down.”

I shrugged. “The basic stuff I guess. Just to defend myself.”

“Like what?”

“Like this.” Without warning, I stepped in, grabbed his shirt and used my body weight to knock him over.

Well, that’s what I thought I did. He saw me coming and sidestepped, then placed his hands in a few strategic spots on my body. Lo-and-behold, I ended on the floor beneath his feet, and he ended with a smile on his face, staring down at me.

“Okay.” I grunted. “That went well.”

His smile faded. “That was the best you have?”

I propped myself up on my elbow. “Am I allowed to use my abilities?”

“Not here. There’s another room for that.”

I flopped back down on the mat. The air had escaped the stitching on my descent and puffed out beneath me.

“Great. Well, then, that was my best.”

His gorgeous face appeared above mine, interrupting my view of the domed, white ceiling. “We have a lot of work to do. C’mon.”

He held his hand out. I accepted with little enthusiasm.

“Why can’t I use my abilities? And why is it so important I need to learn how to defend myself?”

“For starters, you have to defend yourself from assassination attempts from other Players. In case you need reminding, you were attacked earlier.” His expression turned grim. “I haven’t forgotten about the bomb. You will explain later. For now, practice without powers.”

“Can’t I just zap them?”

“No, you can’t.”

“Why not?”

“If you’re in a crowded street full of humans, do you think it’s likely you can reveal your powers to the world?”

“Hmm. Okay. I see your point.”

“Which leads me to the first question you’ll see on your test—what is the point of the Game?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but he interrupted. “Think before you answer. Get this wrong and you owe me, oh I don’t know, let’s say ... wear a dress tonight.”

My jaw dropped at his wolfish smile, but then I remembered the last time I wore a dress. It was at his apartment back in Houston. I also remembered how he’d kissed me that night. How he lifted me onto his kitchen counter top as though I weighed nothing, and how his fingers slipped up my thigh and under the dress and...

A cheeky smile. “And if I get it right, what do you owe me?”

“I’m sure I can think of something.”

I held up my hand. “No need. I got it. Serve me dessert wearing my dress.”

His eyebrow arched and laughed. “Okay. Deal. Now, what is the answer?”

I laughed. “Seriously. You’d wear my dress? What’s the question again?”

His face deadpanned.

“Just kidding.” But was I?

I searched my deepest darkest depths.

The point of the Game. What had Marc said the first time we met? Evolution. That’s right. Evolution. But was that the answer? Was it so simple?

“While you’re taking your incredibly sweet-ass time about your answer, I’ll show you how to unman your opponent.” He stepped toward me and did the correct version of what I attempted before. His hands hit me at a few random places and with the help of his foot, he threw me off balance.

“Oomph.” I landed hard on the soft mat and saw stars, my ribs killing.

“Did you see how I—”

“Evolution,” I wheezed. “The point of the Game is Evolution.”

Cash made a buzzing sound. “Wrong.”

“What?” I pushed myself up. “No way. It’s not. Marc said the point of the Game was evolution. You gods download your bodies into these half-human shells and then try to outdo each other. And when you die, when your time on this planet is over, your souls return to your bodies at the Empire better off or worse off than before. Of course that’s depending on how you played the Game.”

“While that answer is better than the first, it’s not completely right. But it’s your lucky day, I’ll give you another guess. Now come at me again, this time, copy the way I did it before.”

I made an exasperated sound and attempted to put him down. He deflected, and I ended on the floor. Again.

“What’s the answer? Keep going,” he said. “One more chance.”

I screamed in frustration and stood up. Pressure built inside of me like a boiling kettle about to whistle.

As if reading my mind, or my body, Cash eased off. “Careful now, you don’t want to lose control.”

“Stuff you and your control.” I launched at him.

He threw me down, grinning.

“I will never get this.” I slammed my palms on the mat.

“Yes, you will.” He lifted me by the hand. “Again. Concentrate.”

I took a deep breath and made to move, then stopped. “This is unfair. Somehow, you know what move I will make. You know how to deflect. You’re using your abilities.”

“Unlike yours, mine aren’t visible to the naked eye and I can’t turn them off. There are many others like me. You must think creatively. Try another way. Surprise me.”

I remembered something Jed had been showing me back in Houston. Up from nowhere, another idea formed in my head.

Straight strike to the nose. Hit your attacker with an open palm, pushing up on the nose with the bottom of your hand.

Now, where would that come from?

Leila.

She was one of my passengers. The memory might have come from her. Leila took self-defense lessons down at the local youth center for years. After seeing the witch attack my mother, she’d been paranoid and learned how to defend herself. Pity it never helped her. But, maybe it would help me now.

A warmth spread from the inside of my chest. She was still there. Looking out for me. Maybe it was only the evil Others who ran away when I was near Cash. Perhaps she was stronger around him, too. There was hope for me yet.

I stepped back from Cash and sized him up. Definitely didn’t want to break his nose, but I had to do something. I closed my eyes and waited for another move to come to me. I envisioned it in my head, feeling it in my muscles and opened my eyes.

He cracked his knuckles and gestured with his fingers in the universal “come here” way.

In two-seconds flat, I had him on his side on the floor, my left hand on his collarbone, my right locked his arm to the side at an odd angle. If he moved an inch, he’d dislocate himself. He knew it. I had him.

“You owe me a dress.”

“What?” I stepped off.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes, I did. The point of the Game is evolution.”

“No, the result of the Game is evolution.”

I made another frustrated sound and kicked the air. “I don’t see the point of all this! That’s what I don’t see.”

“You mean the training?” He got up and made a jab at me.

I deflected, feeling proud. “Yes! What’s the point of learning how to go to war if we’re not allowed to go to war?” I returned the jab. He blocked.

“Who said we’re not allowed to go to war?” He made a one-two punch, then stepped into my space and went for my collar.

I deflected with one hand, but his other moved in to take its spot, and another. I panted with effort. “Players aren’t allowed to go to war using the humans as pawns, right? I thought Marc said something like that.”

Jab. Block. Jab.

“Yes, but Players can war with Players. And often, when Marc’s away, humans join in the war anyway. We’re not allowed to manipulate humans, but if they choose to war on their own… it’s a blurred line. The last time Marc left for an extended duration, the Second World War happened.”

He threw me down. Again.

But this time I brought him down with me, changed our momentum and rolled on top of him. I squeezed his torso between my thighs, holding his shoulders with my palms. Initially shocked, his eyes became steady.

“Well done,” he said.

I smiled, but didn’t let go. This was too good. Cash beneath me. I had a flash of what he might look like tonight—under me, in his bed—a girl could hope. My heart kicked against my ribcage. My grip weakened.

He hit the inside of my elbow, collapsed it, and then changed our positions. He pinned me beneath him, leaving me weak and compliant. Putty in his hands.

He lowered to my ear and whispered: “I can tell when you’re aroused.”

I gasped.

He pulled back with a self-satisfied smile and I squirmed beneath his scrutiny. His amusement dropped, and he swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing.

I meaningfully nudged my hips into his. “And I can tell when you are.”

We gazed at each other. Then he rolled off me, sat back on the mat and lifted his knees up. He scrubbed the back of his neck. “Quick. Talk about something else.”

We laughed awkwardly, aware other people shared the room with us.

It felt good. To laugh with him. It felt right.

“So what is the point of the Game then?” I positioned myself in front of him and sat on my haunches.

His voice came out strangled. “The aim of the Game is to make a positive change in the world without revealing… ahem… our true nature.”

“Make a positive change? But that’s so vague.”

“Mm.” He sounded distracted, eyes still molten, caught on my lips.

“Cash. What does that mean?”

“It, ah… it… What was the question?” He blinked rapidly as if clearing his mind. “Oh yeah. The purpose. It could mean anything to anyone. There’s a lot of leeway,”

“That’s shitty.”

“I know. You don’t know how you’ve done until you either evolve or devolve on return to your Seraphim body.”

“And are there any guidelines?”

“Be good to your mentor and do everything he tells you to do.”

Heat rushed to my face but I couldn’t help smiling. He flirted with me. “What’s with you today, Cash Samson?”

Stormy eyes widened.

I echoed his movement. “Are there any real guidelines?”

“Wear a dress tonight, and I’ll tell you.”

“That’s blackmail.” I rose to my knees and shoved his unmovable body.

He caught my wrists and gave me a bigger grin. “No, it’s bribery.”

I used my body weight to pull him back down to the mat, intending to roll him again, but he held me firm. I frowned. “You’d really gamble my freedom on a stupid cover for my body?”

His expression turned deadly serious, and he took me by the shoulders, dipping his head until we were eye level. “Roo, when it comes to your body, I couldn’t be more serious. Just… come to my place.”

I kneed him in the gut. He rolled off me, laughing, clutching his middle, hair falling to shade his eyes.

I hadn’t seen this side of him since, well, since Tommy. The playful, carefree part of him was breaking free. He was becoming someone else.

Someone I liked. More than liked.

My lips curved into a slow smile and I rolled to my side to watch him. When he caught me looking, his expression softened. “I’m sorry. I can’t help baiting you. You bring out this side of me I can’t control.”

“I noticed.” He joked about me wearing the dress, but I sensed there was more to it—he wanted me with him, away from my father and the dangers at his apartment.

The sound of people entering the room mixed with the buzz of their auras. There was always someone around at the Ludus. Privacy was short lived. I stood up and turned my back on Cash to catch my breath.

No secrets, he’d said. I agreed. Tonight was my chance to tell him about The Others.

We spent the next two hours running through drills and questions for the for the test. It was hard to remember so many things but, while my mind was busy with his questions, my instincts took over for my body. I fought better than I’d ever done before. I wanted the dirty feeling of mistrust to sweat out of my body, so attacked, relentlessly. Leila’s memories floated to the surface as if they were my own, helping me with strategy. I’d planted Cash on the floor more than once and landed a few sweet punches. I had a feeling he let me, but it still felt good. We’d gone quiet by the end. No words, just raw action.

By the time we left the room, our bodies were sore, silent and serious.

“Is something wrong?” Cash asked as he walked me back to my rooms.

“Maybe.”

“Roo, I’ll tell you everything tonight. No more secrets.”

I took a few steps without a word. Those few expanded into a dozen, and then into more until we stood in front of the Urser apartment.

“I’ll tell you everything, too,” I said, bringing my fingernails to my mouth, chewing. “So you can trust me.”

A crease etched between his brows. He almost said something, but changed his mind. His eyes told me enough, they glistened with emotion. The surprise of my confession worried him but he didn’t push it. Instead, he glanced at the closed door. “What’s the plan then?”

“I don’t have my phone, but I’ll get Lincoln on my side enough to borrow his. As soon as I get photos of the lab papers in Bruce’s room, I’ll send them to you, then delete the evidence. I’ll come over after that. Shouldn’t be long.”

“Good. I don’t like the idea of you staying here one more night.”

The door opened. We shut up.

My father’s eyes narrowed and focused on Cash. “You.”

“Bruce.” Cash met him, pound for cold-hard pound of ego. Cash calling him by his common first name didn’t go unnoticed. Being a military man, my father demanded Cash call him General Urser when he was a subordinate of his House. Now, Bruce had no authority over Cash. My father lowered his gaze first—he checked his watch.

“Six o’clock,” he said to me.

“Is that supposed to mean something?”

“Business hours are over. Training is over. Dinner is in half an hour. Your dress is in your room.”

I shrugged. “I’m still failing to see the point.”

“Must you be so insolent every time I speak to you?” He narrowed his eyes again. “Every night until the trials, you must fulfill your royal duty and attend dinner with our major Houses.”

“If you attended training today, like most—” I was going to say “other mentors” but stopped myself. He wasn’t my mentor. Cash was. I bit my tongue then took a deep breath. “The Tribunal has ruled that you can’t keep me confined in these rooms. I’m free to roam wherever I like and see whoever I like.”

“I know. I was there.” The violent warning in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed, but his aura didn’t waver. “Business hours, you are his. After that, you are mine.”

“Dinner is not a royal duty.”

“And I suppose you know what is?”

He had me there.

I turned to Cash for help, but he looked as lost as I felt.

We needed Marc. He’d only been gone a few days, but I felt the loss of his presence tangibly. Sometimes it seemed to me these Watchers just made up their own convenient rules. For all of his flightiness, Marc would know exactly what to say to my father.

I swallowed, getting ready to do something, but Cash placed a palm on my arm.

“It’s okay,” he said, calming me. “I’ll see you after dinner for some business overtime.”

“Overtime wasn’t specified in the Tribunal agreement,” Bruce said.

“And it wasn’t specifically denied, either,” Cash replied to him, then looked at me. “I’m in between Lyra House and Vernalis House in the guest apartments.”

“Fine.” I grit my teeth. “I’ll see you later. For dessert.”

I left Cash with a crooked smile on his face.

Bruce’s face was blank, but his aura skipped.

And that put a smile on my face.

Chapter 15

As I entered the Urser House apartment, I noticed the table formally set again. This time, there was a cook in the kitchen, and a housekeeper fluffing about the living room. A waiter prepared ice and drinks. Three staff! Must be important.

Lincoln opened his door when I passed as though he’d been waiting for me. He leaned on the door frame, tuxedo inside out, a toothbrush in his mouth. “Cutting it close, sis.”

I frowned. That word.

Sis.

It had never gone down well with me. Not when Leila said it, laden with all the guilt. Not when Petra said it, heavy with evil. Now, he used it freely. I had to watch myself and not forget my true purpose here. The dinners, the familial banter. It was all fake. Wasn’t it?

A sense of unease settled in my bones. Cash was right. I should have moved in with him. But first, I had to find out what that serum was being used for and when. I needed photos of the list.

In order for them to not see me a threat, I had to make them think I belonged. Starting with Lincoln.

I shot him a mysterious smile. “I’m taking pointers from the master.” When he didn’t catch my drift, I elaborated. “From you, Lincoln.”

“Oh.” He smiled back, chest puffing out. He saluted me with his toothbrush. “May your pots be well stirred.”

His smile was genuine as though he really enjoyed the idea of some sibling team-up rebellion. That thought stirred something inside, and I thought perhaps using him wouldn’t be as easy as I thought.

After entering my room, as expected, I found a plastic dress bag on the bed. I didn’t bother opening it to see what was inside. I wouldn’t wear it. Instead, I showered, dried my hair and put on a touch of makeup. With a towel wrapped around my body, I re-entered the bedroom and stood in front of the bed. My eyes lingered on the dress in its wrapper.

“Screw you, dress,” I said to the air. I would not be boxed into a compliant woman for anyone. Even Cash. I’d do this on my own terms.

I riffled through my recently stocked drawers for some underwear. Still no sign of my real suitcase or phone. My fingers landed on a pair of red, lacy lingerie and hesitated. I smiled. Well, maybe I could give Cash something else. Like I said before, not the main course, but dessert.

I ripped the store tags off and put the underwear on. Perfect fit. Briefs and a soft cup, lacy bra. Then I slipped on a fresh pair of jeans and a navy blue, sleeveless blouse—inside out. The inseams stuck out. Excellent. Just like Lincoln’s fashion sense. With a pair of ballet flats, and my hair tousled up high in a bun, I looked like your average mentally ill girl. No royal princess in sight. A thrill skipped up my spine when I thought of my father’s reaction to my outfit. If he got angry, well, it would be at both Lincoln and myself.

The doorbell rang, and I heard its muffled sound through the apartment, to my room. Couldn’t have happened sooner. It had been a long day, and I was tiring.

I gave one last glance at the room, knowing I wouldn’t be returning. My gaze snagged on the Ducati keys and I quickly shoved them in my pocket. There was nothing else I wanted to keep.

Show time.

When I entered the living room, our guests were milling about the dining table, making their introductions and small talk with my father. All eyes landed on me as I sauntered up to them, surprised to see a friendly face.

“Wren,” I said gleefully.

The petite girl smiled at me. She wore a blue dress, in a retro fifties style, similar to the style Kitty favored back home. Yet, this version wasn’t a thrift shop variety. It was probably vintage Channel. I sighed at the thought. Kitty would love it. I hadn’t spoken to her or Alvin for days. I hadn’t forgotten about them, just didn’t want them involved in any of this. My aim was to get through the trials, and back to Margaret River where I could start my new, boring life. My spirits lifted for a moment. Hopefully with Cash.

If he doesn’t hate you for lying. I almost jumped at the sound of The Others in my head and checked to see if Wren noticed my oddness, but her eyes flittered over my shoulder and then dropped to her feet, a blush staining her sweet cheeks. I followed her gaze and noted my brother waltz in with a swagger that looked better on Marc, but suited him nonetheless. Could it be that Wren was being betrothed to Lincoln… and she liked it? He mentioned duties to fulfill. Maybe tonight was all about him.

My hopes dashed when a taller boy with droopy, down-turned eyes moved from behind the older Watcher talking with Bruce. He wore a white shirt and a brown, three piece suit and tie. It looked expensive, but he appeared just as uncomfortable in it as I had been in my fancy dress last night. His messy short hair and fingernails had traces of ink as though something splattered on him. Interesting. He caught me looking at his nails and self-consciously put his hands in his pockets.

When I checked their mentor, he was a familiar face from the depository. He was the one who ignored me when I tried to ask for directions. Friar Tuck hairstyle. He also dressed smartly and had a whale pin on his lapel.

When he noticed me, a flicker of surprise swam over it. Next to him, Bruce took in my attire and narrowed his eyes. Tonight, he wore a tux with a golden brooch shaped like a bear. His nostrils flared at my outfit, his aura spiked, but he said nothing. If he secretly planned my murder, I’d never know. His lack of response was almost more frustrating than his outbursts.

“Shall we?” Bruce gestured to the table.

The two Watchers sat at one end of the table, of course my father was at the head. I made a beeline for Wren and made sure I sat next to her. Lincoln sat in his spot next to the new kid, except he was looking at me, tapping his chin, nodding at my blouse.

“Didn’t think you had it in you, sis.”

I smirked and gave him a mock salute. Let him think we were partners in rebellious crime.

“Now that everyone is seated, let me make the formal introductions. Mathieson Cetus, I believe you know my progeny, Lincoln Urser, and across from him is my… uh… daughter La Roux Urser.”

Mathieson cleared his throat and squinted at me. The fine lines around the edges of his eyes drew my attention to other fine wrinkles on his skin. It was the first time I’d seen a Seraphim with wrinkles. He must be old indeed. Wren had mentioned he was one of the first scientists who helped create the human race in the image of the gods. He would know things. Lab things. Perhaps soul things.

Bruce didn’t bother introducing Wren or her friend to me. We obviously weren’t important. He told the chef to serve the first course then continued to speak privately with Mathieson. Within moments, we had a table full of Michelin starred quality food. Excessive.

“So, Wren,” I said, for all to hear. “Who is your friend?”

Wren didn’t have time to respond because her friend did.

“My name is Cygnus. I’m not her friend.” He waved the waiter down for a refill of his drink.

Not her friend? What kind of rude nonsense was that?

About as rude as asking someone else what his name was, The Others said.

I didn’t like how they seemed so close by. So in my ear. Suddenly, Cash’s absence was felt acutely. Without him, they were stronger. I slipped my fingers into my pocket and located the Ducati keyring. The embossed logo felt reassuring to stroke and reminded me of what I had waiting at the end of the night. Just a few more hours.

Wren placed a soft hand on my arm. “He’s my sibling.”

“Sorry, that was rude of me to ask like that. Nice to meet you Cygnus, I’m Roo.”

The rest of the night moved on without a hitch. We were half way through the main course, and I thought it was the best time to weasel a bit of information from my companions. I sent a furtive glance to the head of the table. Still busy in a serious discussion.

“So,” I started. “I don’t know if you heard, but I’m pretty new to all this.”

“That’s an understatement.” Lincoln laughed.

“Exactly. What kind of juicy gossip can you share. What have I missed out on?”

Wren wrinkled her nose. “Juicy gossip?”

Cygnus shrugged stiffly. “I don’t know what you mean.”

I rolled my eyes at Lincoln. “C’mon, bro. Surely you’ve got something exciting to tell me. You seem to be all over the underground scene here.”

“There ain’t nothing I do that is underground. I’m an open book.”

“So are we.” Cygnus appeared confused.

Oh Jeez, what’s it going to take? I spooned a mouthful of food into my mouth and chewed, thinking on what to say next. “So, without seeming forward, can I take it that we’re all matched with each other for this breeding thing that everyone is pretending is going to happen only if we fail?”

Wren’s fork clattered to the plate.

I looked up and found Cygnus and Lincoln staring at me.

“What? Did I say something I shouldn’t?”

“Nah, sis, it’s just that, we don’t really talk about it.”

I lowered my voice. “Well, we should talk about it. Don’t you think it’s wrong they’re making plans as though we’ve already failed?”

It was Cygnus who replied. “There’s no other way. Every round of the Game, the heads of the houses, specifically the royals, have to create fresh bloodlines. Without it, the Game would be over.”

“So, what about what we want? Do we get a say in passing?”

They all shrugged.

“Who else is a royal?” I asked, suspecting I already knew the answers—every name on that list.

“Well,” Wren said. “There’s different levels of royals and the other Ludus’s have more, but here in Australia, Urser, of course, is at the top. Then there’s Epsilon, Aldebaran, Cetus, Corvus and Lyra. Oh, and Jacine is in town, so her House…”

“Vernalis,” Cygnus said.

“Yeah, that’s right. Vernalis.”

I ground my teeth. That’s the House Cash said his apartment was near.

“So, what about this prince I hear about? Shouldn’t he be doing this as well? I would’ve thought he had the most pure blood.”

Silence again.

Then Wren leaned into me. “No one has seen him. Ever. Not since the day he rebelled against his mother. Well, that’s what we’ve heard.”

“You know what I think?” Lincoln said. “I think he doesn’t exist. I think he’s a bogeyman story told to little Players to make them do as they're told.”

Wren’s eyes lit up. “We were told he can separate from his body and poison you from the inside.”

“I heard he knows everything… like he can follow you without you knowing,” Lincoln added.

While I enjoyed seeing the light of connection flare between Lincoln and Wren, I was getting nowhere uncovering Bruce’s plan. Without specifically saying to them, What are the experiments for? I had no idea what else to say. I checked the time. We were almost done with dinner. I needed to get Lincoln’s phone.

“What about—” I started.

“Shh.” Cygnus glanced at the grownups, who were now more animated in their private conversation, their voices growing louder.

“How do we know your offer is authentic?” Mathieson wiped his chin with a cloth. “You will have to do better than that.”

“You will have to do better than fifty.”

“Fifty!” Mathieson slammed his napkin on the table. “That’s a remarkable figure considering the source pool.”

“You’ll get proof when you meet my price.”

Mathieson sucked his teeth. “But that’s bleeding me dry. I’ll be empty after that. If this doesn’t work, I’m done.”

“As are the rest of us if we don’t do something.”

“Fine. Seventy-three. That’s all of them.”

“Done.”

They shook hands.

Then my father looked directly at me.

Something was wrong.

All my senses lit up in warning. I couldn’t breathe with the power of it.

“Lincoln, would you take your betrothed to your room and close the door? There’s something we need to discuss with the other two. In private.”

“But we haven’t had dessert—”

“Now.” My father’s voice boomed across the dining room. The floor shook with his power.

Lincoln and Wren jumped up from their seats. Wren gave me a concerned glance then followed Lincoln who closed the door behind him.

“Stand up, both of you,” Bruce said. “Roo, come here.”

Cygnus took a deep breath, but stood.

He didn’t scare me. I clutched the keyring until it cut into my palm. I remained in my seat.

“I was hoping you’d resist,” my father said.

Then I saw his mouth move, but I didn’t remember the word. Everything after that point went blurry. My body tingled. Blackness encroached my vision. I had just enough time to wonder what was happening, then—

Chapter 16

I woke up with a metallic taste in my mouth. I must have bit my tongue in my sleep.

Wait a minute.

Sleep. I rolled around on my bed in the semi-light, testing the rumpled surface beneath me. Definitely a bed. The fake window showed dawn breaking over mountains, painting the sky in purples and yellows. The light bounced off every surface in the room, including a tiny porcelain hobby horse on my bedside table. That hadn’t been there before.

When did I go to sleep?

Shit.

In fact, when did I go to bed?

Frantically, I ran my mind back to the last thing I could remember. Dinner. Wren was there. I met her brother. Cygnus. He wasn’t so bad. Cute, in a puppy sort of way, but a little stiff. I supposed that’s what happened when your nose was in a book all day. Or in his case, a machine. The black oil on his fingers had been from building things. Wren said he had a knack for making machinery work. He seemed to like me too. I remembered thinking I made more friends. That was until Bruce sent Wren out of the room with Lincoln.

My nerves itched.

I had blacked out.

The last thing I remembered was Cygnus’s horror as he stared at my eyes. Why had he been afraid, and why did I pass out?

I shot up in bed.

Double shit!

Cash.

After dinner, I was supposed to go to his place. Now it was morning. He would think I changed my mind.

I slung my feet off the edge of the bed. I still wore my outfit from the night before. Inside-out blouse and jeans.

What the hell?

My legs were jelly when I put weight on them. The second I stood upright, blackness clouded my vision and I was forced to wait until the dizzy stars went away.

While I waited, I spotted another note in Leila’s handwriting. I snatched it off the dresser.

You’re part of the experiment.

Horrific thoughts flooded my mind. My blackouts. The Others. Leila had written the last note when The Others took over. This meant only one thing. They did it again. I was part of the experiment. All those names against the lab results. What if my name was now in that book? Or worse… what if they were using me to do the experimenting? That meant Bruce could know about The Others.

Panic laced with fury rose inside me so violently that I clenched my teeth to the point of pain. I was fuming. Livid. I shoved on some shoes and ripped open my door. Immediately, I opened Lincoln’s door.

In the center of his room, he slept soundly on a bed. Bare-chested and wearing a pair of designer boxer shorts.

Behind him, the fake window showed a different scene to mine. The sky, equal amounts of purple and blue with the dawn, was beautiful. It rained on the field of horses, creating a soft ambient white noise for sleep.

Lincoln had changed out of his tuxedo, but I hadn’t undressed. Little things niggled at my senses. I didn’t like this. I didn’t like this one bit.

My fists opened and closed, pumping as I watched my brother sleep.

And then: “Wake up.” I shoved him.

“Huh—what? Where’s the fire?” He opened his eyes and rubbed them. “Sis? You’re awake.”

“Damn straight I’m awake. What the hell happened last night?”

He smiled sheepishly and closed his eyes dreamily. “Last night I had the time of my life. That girl from Lyra House really knows how to move in the bedroom. Must be that Lyra affinity with music and rhythm.”

“What the fuck, Lincoln, when did you have time for a booty call?”

“What the fuck, yourself. Dinner got canceled because of you, sleepy head—and you know how daddy dearest hates to cancel those dinners.” His eyes widened, and he sat up. “Oh, you don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?”

“You’ve been asleep for days, sis.”

My blood ran cold. “Say again?”

“You were so tired after dinner with Cetus House that you went straight to bed. You didn’t wake up.”

I lost control of my legs and perched on the edge of his bed.

“How long was I out?”

“Three days. I came and sat with you for a bit. Left you a little something.”

“Lincoln—” He sat with me? The hobby horse. That was from him. I didn’t know what to think. Three days… That would explain the weak legs and hunger. “Why didn’t anyone do something?”

“As long as you woke up today, there was nothing to do.”

“What’s today?”

“The first trial.”

Vomit.

I wasn’t ready.

Lincoln hit the lamp on his side-table and the room illuminated. The purple sky in the fake window adjusted to allow more light in the room as though it read Lincoln’s need. The rain stopped and bright morning sun bloomed in the scenery revealing a field of horses whinnying and nibbling at the grass. He picked up his watch from the side-table.

“In half an hour, actually.”

“Half an hour?”

“That’s what I said.” He rolled off his bed and slipped on the discarded clothes he found on the floor. “Suppose I better make a show of actually trying to pass.”

I had to find Cash.

But I had no time.

A stab of pain gripped my stomach, and I doubled over, clenching it.

Jeez, I was hungry.

Lincoln brushed past me, dressed haphazardly, and went into the hall, leaving the door open behind him. The smell of breakfast cooking caused my stomach to clench in sharp agony. Yup. I hadn’t eaten in days. I wiped my eyes and cautiously followed my nose to the table where my father and brother sat.

The surreal picture my eyes took was of a traditional suburban family.

Oddly, Bruce read the newspaper, and Lincoln nibbled over a bowl of cereal, checking the latest on his phone. The phone I never got to borrow for reconnaissance.

My father glanced up from his paper. “You’re awake.”

I was desperate to eat, but I had to know. “What happened to me after dinner?”

“Sit down and have something to eat.”

“No.” I dug my heals in. “I need to know.”

“You got tired and went to bed. You slept for a while.”

“No, before that. Why did you speak with Cygnus and I?”

He folded the paper. “We needed to speak with the two of you privately about your arrangement.”

I glanced at Lincoln but he ignored me and ate his food, metal spoon clinking on the china bowl.

“Is everything okay, Roo-Roo? You look a little, unsettled.”

Bruce’s use of my childhood nickname sent a flood of nostalgia and helplessness rushing through me. My tears threatened to come back. My fingers heated, wanting to spark. This slip in control must be my survival instincts manifesting.

“The arrangement,” I said. “You mean the one that’s not supposed to happen until I fail?”

His lips pressed together. “You had two weeks to train with Samson and you messed it up. Don’t blame me for your shortcomings.” Seeing my horror, his expression softened. He walked over and placed a steady hand on my shoulder. “I know sleeping for three days must feel frightening. We had Corvus House come and check you over, so you were always safe. We knew you’d come out of it, eventually.”

Lincoln’s spoon slipped from his fingers and clattered to the table. “Sorry.”

Bruce cleared his throat. “But I promise, after your trials, we’ll investigate the incident further.”

I didn’t know what to think. Did he force The Others to the surface, or was he experimenting on me like the rest of the names on his list. Either way it was not good.

“And Cash? Did he come around?”

“Your mentor was nowhere to be found.”

My gaze shot to Lincoln for confirmation. He shrugged and took another spoonful of food. As far as I could tell he told the truth. All of my instincts rebelled against that. Cash would never leave me for days, not after our planned date.

“The cook is still here, do you want me to order you something?” My father asked, taking his seat again and lifting the paper.

“No, thank you,” I mumbled. “I’ll just eat cereal.”

I poured myself a bowl and ate with my head resting on my hand, trying not to feel the heat of Lincoln’s stare on my face.

Chapter 17

We went to the second basement sub-level. The first trial was being held in a small auditorium similar to what I’d expect at a university. At the entrance to the door, a scanning device searched bodies as they passed through.

A small crowd made up of Players… sorry, contenders—they weren’t officially Players, yet—crowded around the entrance. Their mentors were there, to see them off and give them well wishes. It all had a rather bourgeois vibe to it. Bored, rich parents seeing their children off at summer camp.

We shuffled forward in our place in the line. My breakfast hadn’t gone down well and rolled in my stomach. What had happened to Cash? Three days had gone past since I was supposed to meet him. Our date. He was going to cook for me. I closed my eyes briefly and remembered the way he looked at me in that hallway after training. Unfettered desire burned in his eyes. His warm touch on my cheek. Our bodies pressed together. My hand reached into my pocket for the Ducati keyring. I had to make it up to him.

A kerfuffle sounded from the back of the line. I craned my neck to look back. Despite myself, my heart flipped. Cash.

With Jed. They were elbowing their way through the line to get to us. I felt my father stiffen beside me. A space opened before us and we were almost at the entrance to the auditorium.

“Roo,” Cash said, face hard. “We need to talk before you go in.”

“You don’t have time,” Bruce said.

“You. Don’t talk to me.” Cash pointed at my father’s face, then he turned to me. “You don’t have a choice. Come with me.”

“I’ll be back in five minutes,” I said to Bruce.

He was about to protest, but something in Jed’s eyes stopped him. Being an ex-police office must give you a vibe not to be messed with because Bruce backed down. “Fine. Five minutes. That’s all you have.”

I caught sight of a group of people coming up behind Cash. It was House Cetus: Mathieson, Cygnus and Wren. I waved briefly at them as they walked by to take their place in the line. Wren gave me a small smile, but Cygnus, he completely shrunk away from me with a frightened feral look in his eyes. Alarm jolted through me. What was that about?

I didn’t have time to think on it because Cash promptly led me away from the bustling crowd to a quiet spot out of hearing distance where Jed waited.

“Hi Jed.”

“Hi Roo.”

“Jed, give us a minute.”

Cash watched Jed step away and when his gaze locked back on mine, his penetrating stare drilled down to my bones. Then he moved us further down the hall.

“Are you okay?” Cash asked.

I frowned. Everyone acted weird. On edge.

“Roo, are you okay?” he asked again. “Are you hurt? We’ve been trying to get access to you for days, but—why is your shirt inside out?”

I glanced down. I’d had no time to change.

“Look, it doesn’t matter,” he continued. “Just tell me you’re okay.”

“I think so. But, three days? Why didn’t you—” I cut myself off, bit my lip and kept my eyes on the floor. Now wasn’t the time to make a scene.

“We couldn’t get to you, and short of starting a war by breaking down the doors, we were stuck. What happened?”

That’s what I’d like to know. It could have been a number of things. “I’m still piecing it together. I blacked out.”

“For three days?”

If I told him about the voices in my head, he might think differently.

He punched the wall next to my head, jarring me awake. Plaster crumbled to the floor, and my ears echoed the blast. But I wouldn’t shrink away. I wouldn’t be intimidated by his violence.

“Damn it, Roo. What aren’t you telling me? Tell me the truth.”

“I’m sorry, I blacked out.” I shook my head, but he cupped my jaw and forced me to meet his eyes. When I did, I saw such raw emotion that I almost lost my footing. “You weren’t there, Cash.”

He exhaled and dipped his forehead to mine. “I know.”

We didn’t move for a while.

“Something happened, and it scares me,” I whispered. “In a way, I can’t begin to comprehend, and I need to discuss it with you, but we can’t talk about it now.”

Cash pulled away from me and studied my face. “You’re right. Too many people around. We’ll continue this after the trial. But, don’t do that again.”

“What?”

“Fall asleep for three days and then avoid me. I could see it in your eyes when I approached you in the line. You thought about going with your father.”

“For a second, I believed him when he said you hadn’t come around to check on me.”

“Bastard. I stood vigil outside your door for twenty-four hours. I only left when Jacine told me there was a better way. If you didn’t turn up this morning, we had a plan. Thank the gods you woke up. When this is over, you’re coming with me.” He tugged me into his embrace.

I sighed and softened myself to his body. How could I ignore this ocean of emotion between us? He buried his face in my neck.

“Say you’ll come.”

“I—”

“I won’t wait next time,” he said into my hair. “I don’t care what they say. I’ll break down the door. Urser is not to be trusted.”

I thought back to my father’s poor excuse for what happened and Lincoln’s reaction to his words. The spoon dropping. Bruce had lied.

I wasn’t safe there. Not anymore. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Of course you’re right. Forget the evidence.”

“Hallelujah. We have Jacine’s and Felix’s vote. That’s two votes already in the Tribunal. If Urser wants to fight you coming to mine, he’ll have to overcome that. Concentrate on passing the trial, I’ll work on the housing arrangement.”

“Easier said than done,” I mumbled.

“You only need fifty-one percent to pass. And if you don’t, there’s two more trials you can do. You just need an overall pass. We went through the major points during training. As long as you’re with me, you’ll be fine.”

We started to walk back to the auditorium when Cash frowned and stopped me. He cocked his head as though listening to something.

“What is it?” I whispered.

He placed his finger on his lips. “Your father. I can hear him talking.”

I cast my senses out and felt the unique signature of my father’s aura a few feet in front of us, hidden in the alcove of another corridor. With him was another signature I recognized. Mathieson Cetus. The expression on Cash’s face darkened as he listened. He glanced at me and frowned.

“What is it?” I whispered again.

“Shh.”

I strained my ears to listen, but my hearing was nothing like Cash’s.

Cash murmured, “They’re arguing about proof. It wasn’t what Cetus expected.”

“That’s what they spoke about at dinner the other night. Bruce wanted more of something, and Cetus gave him seventy-three.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll sort it out. Focus on your test and I’ll see you later.” Cash took my hand and continued to guide me towards the entrance to the auditorium. The line had thinned, and there were only a few stragglers being scanned.

Bruce appeared. “That was longer than five minutes.”

“Well, I’m here now,” I said.

He noted my hand linked with Cash’s and smirked. “Lover’s quarrel over I presume?”

Cash’s hand tightened around mine. He leaned in to kiss my cheek. I felt something press into my other hand. When I looked down, I found my phone. Earphones wrapped around the handset.

My heart swelled. My music. My center of gravity. I hit the home button, and the screen reanimated. Fully charged. I could’ve wept.

“Thank you,” I said.

“It took a while, but we found your luggage. When Jed handed it over for inspection, it got mysteriously rerouted. Very suspicious considering Jed’s and mine weren’t.” He darted a glance at my father. “I have a charger at my place. You can grab it when I see you later.”

I nodded.

“Good luck,” he said and left to meet Jed who was waiting down the corridor.

I stepped through the scanner. Similar to something you’d see at the airport, I expected it to be searching for metal, or other dangerous objects. But it beeped when I walked through.

The half asleep attendant jumped to action.

“Please walk through again, miss,” said the man who looked familiar. I thought I’d seen him at the registrar’s surgery. He hit a few keys on his laptop computer.

I stepped back and tried again.

Angry red lights flashed.

What the hell?

For a minute, I panicked. The Cauldron used to have a ridiculous little scanner at the front to check for witches. It never worked on me before, despite what I held inside. Why would it freak out now? Unless this scanned for something else.

“This happened at her registration,” my father said from his spot outside the door. “The nano-trackers went haywire. I would’ve thought you’d have it fixed by now. Just let her through.”

The attendant narrowed his eyes, but nodded.

Suddenly I had the urge to pull the machine apart and help him locate the issue. It was such an odd urge. I’d never pulled anything electrical apart before. But Cygnus had… and I had a metallic taste in my mouth when I woke up. Could this mean that Urser made me drink Cygnus’s blood to capture part of his soul? I stumbled away, barely registering Bruce’s words: “Don’t forget, Roo. When you fail these trials, you’re mine.”

Chapter 18

By the time I entered at the small auditorium, most of the seats were taken. I felt on display as I stood at the lower level, hand to my eyes, squinting up the steps for a vacancy.

There’s something. Right up the back.

I took two steps and then face-planted the staircase. Pain sliced my forehead when it hit the edge of the hard carpet covered concrete. I raised my hand to inspect the damage. A sliver of blood wet my finger, but the wound closed over before much seeped out. I wiped my hand on my pants.

A snicker to my right confirmed the source of my pain.

Ava.

You’ve got to be kidding me. She tripped me. How childish can you get?

I levered myself off the floor and stood, taking time to dust off. I considered giving her the evil eye, but thought I’d be the bigger person.

Then she leaned into the aisle and said, “I hope you fail, cheater.”

Cheater. The word rolled in my gut. I knew she referred to the fact that she had been scheduled to download into this body, not me, but I refused to feel guilt over it any longer.

I kept walking and found a seat a few more steps up, next to Cygnus. I gave a weak smile as I landed next to him. The horror that stole over his face was the only warning I received before he jumped up, moved his lanky legs over the desk and into the row in front of me. Then he excused himself and bumped his way along the row until he exited at the opposite aisle-end and found a seat somewhere else.

Jeez. What was that about? I surreptitiously smelled my armpits, hoping his reaction was from my three-day-old sweat. But, no, I didn’t smell that bad. My shame became real. His actions cemented my earlier suspicion—I had somehow stolen a piece of his soul.

My stomach cramped and twisted into knots as I dipped in my seat. I didn’t want to make eye contact with anyone so counted the corners of objects in the room. It may have made me look like an idiot savant, but I didn’t care. It kept me busy until the official attendant handed out the tests.

When the go was given to start, I didn’t read first, just launched into the questions.

First half—not so bad.

In fact, I was a little gobsmacked, to be honest. Why everyone thought it was so difficult was beyond me. I spent the first twenty minutes, coasting through the test, laughing under my breath and checking to see if anyone else was having the same reaction as me.

Nope. They all had their heads down, immersed.

As the test went on, I discovered a few harder questions, like, what to do upon death if your soul got stuck and didn’t return to purgatory. I left that one blank. The last questions on the test were the worst. As I struggled to find answers, I doodled in the margins of the paper. A lot had to do with the rules of engagement in the field, and I had absolutely zero experience in that. Vaguely, I remembered the first time I met Cash. He went on about how I had to mention being a Player first because I noticed his tatts. I smiled remembering how he stood at the bar at The Cauldron, all broody and gorgeous.

“You noticed mine first, so you have to say it first,” he’d said. Or something like that.

At the time, I thought they were just tattoos peeking out from underneath the rolled up sleeves of his shirt. I had no idea they were a secret star-map to his point of origin and only other Players could see it. My smile stretched, and I closed my eyes, daydreaming. His manly forearms. Little white scars down one arm from the accident he’d had when his first two soul parts had rejoined. I frowned. He’d had a hell of a life too. And now, he still fought for me, even though his own body failed him.

And I was the idiot who kept using up all his time on my problems.

My heart swelled for him.

That’s it. Tonight, it was the Cash show. I’d help him figure out how to make his body work again. No more Roo-show.

I bit my bottom lip and looked down at the page for take two.

My lungs heaved in a sharp breath. What the hell?

In the margins, I’d written The Others, over and over again.

Sweet mother of Prince.

I tried to scribble the words out, but found new ones hidden between lines. I flicked the pages back and found more. Every time I finished blacking out a word, there was another. What the hell was wrong with me?

Relax, Roo. Relax. I closed my eyes and counted to ten, forcing the tightness in my shoulders to disperse. When I opened my eyes, I said a silent prayer to myself.

I get it, okay brain? I get that I have to figure out how to get these souls out before they make me do something I regret. What if next time, I take Cygnus’s entire soul, leaving him with nothing?

Using the pen, I wrote a list of priorities on my forearm.

Others.

Cash’s body.

Bruce’s evil plan.

Then I added, Survive. After a few seconds staring at that last word, I crossed it out and wrote Live.

Time to get out of here.

Skimming the final questions, I realized I had no clue to the answers, so made educated guesses. I picked whatever felt right, hoping my wayward instincts would serve me right. When I finished, I straightened my stack of scribbled test papers and walked down to the front of the room. Dozens of eyes burned holes into my back, but I ignored them because Cygnus finished at exactly the same time as me. He dropped his test on the desk of the instructor and rushed out.

* * *

When I got out into the corridor, it was empty.

“Roo.” Came a voice behind me. “Wait up.”

I turned to find Wren jogging after me.

“Hi,” I said as she met me. “I didn’t think you’d want to speak to me after the reaction your brother just had.”

She fell into step next to me. “Can you blame him?”

“I don’t know. Can I?”

She gave me a sideways glance. “Are you kidding? I can’t tell.”

“No, I’m serious. I don’t remember what happened.”

“He said you did things to him.”

I stopped. “What?”

She checked behind her, and then in front of us to make sure no one was around. “He said you drank blood from his neck.”

I didn’t respond.

“He said our father asked for a demonstration. Then you latched onto his neck. He felt different afterwards. He felt… less.”

“I’m so sorry.” I hugged myself.

All my fears were warranted. I mulled over her words some more. To completely swallow someone’s soul, I had to drink their blood at the same time as siphoning their energy until there was no energy left. Cygnus said he felt “less” after I drank his blood, but if I drank and siphoned at the same time, the odds were I actually did take some of it. Especially when you added my urge to pull apart that machine, and my ability to finish the test at the same time… It was stealing. I’d taken a part of him.

No. Not me. Bruce. Before I’d blacked out, Bruce had turned to me and said something. The Others were taking over. And my father had something to do with it. In fact, he’d discovered a way to trigger it.

Chapter 19

“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 20

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 recoiled. 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.

My awareness collapsed.

* * *

Pain.

* * *

White.

Muffled silence.

* * *

Blackness.

* * *

Sound bounced back.

* * *

“I’m here. What do you need?” Another male voice.

“Get her in the ice bath. The cold will slow her heartrate and slow the poison running through her veins.”

Hands on me, all around, then I drowned in mind numbing cold. I opened my eyes from the shock and caught a glimpse of three shadowed bodies around me, illuminated by the halogen lights beyond. Then, even the cold couldn’t keep me awake. I drifted…

“Convert this saline to hydroxocobalamin. I’ve got the stint.”

* * *

A prick at the inside of my wrist.

* * *

Then.

* * *

Ice in my veins.

* * *

“Give her oxygen.”

* * *

A tube in my nose.

No. I couldn’t breathe. Take it out.

* * *

“Once that’s in her, we need a bag of sodium thiosulfate and one of sodium nitrite. Put one in her other arm. Then alternate treatments until it’s flushed through her system.”

* * *

No. Take it out.

* * *

Hands touched me everywhere. Demanding. Wanting something I couldn’t give. I wasn’t good enough to save them.

* * *

My arms. My face.

Chaos.

Pain.

A scream.

* * *

Someone said something.

“No, that’s good. It means her lungs are opening up.”

The tube was in the way, I tried to remove it but a firm touch stopped me. No. Get it out of me. Water splashed. My teeth chattered.

“Leave it there, honey, you need that for breathing.”

I tried to open my eyes, but they were too heavy. So cold. A moan came from my mouth instead.

“Her lips are blue.” A squeeze on my hand.

My shirt ripped open by someone. Two hot palms pushed me down, resting on the skin over my bra. They stayed there. Steady.

It felt good.

Calm.

Warm.

Slowly, air filtered through my shattered lungs, increasing until I could take a deep, full breath.

“Pulse is getting stronger.”

Hands moved to my head. I sighed. It felt so good.

“No sign of cerebral edema. Breathing returning to normal. Move her to the bed.”

Pressure on my hand, a gentle tug.

“Hear that, Roo? You’re going to be okay.” That deep, silken voice. I loved that voice.

A tear leaked from my eye. I squeezed him back.

“Sleep now, honey. Heal,” said the female.

Chapter 21

When my eyes peeled open, I felt like I’d been run over by an ice truck. Every bone, muscle and cell in my body ached and shivered. But I could breathe. Sweet, clean air.

My body lay on a hospital cot. A foil hypothermia blanket covered me to my chin. Both my arms rested on top, each had an IV drip stuck in. An oxygen tank with a tube led to my face and hooked around my ears and nose. The room was small, with buttons, tubes and technology on the walls. I recognized the same ceiling as my own apartment room, and the fake window had drapes pulled across. This was someone’s Ludus apartment turned into a medical facility.

There was a movement, down near my hand.

Cash held it. An incredible warmth rushed through my body. He saved me.

He slept, slumped in a chair by my bed, a tiny crease between his brow as though he didn’t like his dream. I ached to wipe that frown away. I must have twitched or something because he opened his eyes.

“Hi,” he said.

“You’ve been here the whole time?”

He sat forward in his chair and caressed my hand with his thumb. “Yeah. You haven’t been asleep for long though. Maybe an hour. I’ll alert Lena.” He leaned over to a button on the wall and pressed it. “How you feeling? Warming up?”

“Cold.”

“They had to put you in an ice bath to lower your heart rate so the poison would move sluggishly through your veins while we fixed you.”

“I need a hot shower.” And I needed time alone with him. I tugged the tube from my nose.

Cash stood up, alarm over his face. He tucked my blankets tighter. “No, you need more time to recover. Cyanide is bad. Even for us. You need more sleep. Your heart rate is still elevated. Your core temperature is too low. I’m sorry I didn’t detect the poison sooner. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Cash.”

“I should’ve smelled it. I should’ve noticed. I was too busy thinking about myself, and my abilities… they’re not as sharp as they used to be. Anyway, you need more rest. You’re in a safe place.”

He really seemed out of sorts and my heart went out to him. But I wanted to go somewhere, just the two of us. I felt on edge. Irritable. He was the only one I felt comfortable with.

“I’ve slept for days, Cash. I need to get out.” I focused on the needles in my arms and cringed. Yuck. Pulling them out won’t be fun. But I had to try. I placed my trembling fingers on the IV needle. I had trouble grasping it. My fingertips were numb.

“Honey, I have to examine you first.” A tall woman breezed in, leaving the door open behind her. Her long sliver tresses touched the waist of her floor length, blue robe, and her pale arms poked through slits in the side, like a cape. Thin gauze wrapped around her eyes to tie behind her head, almost hiding the shadow of damaged lids beyond. Blind, yet she walked around the room with precision and confidence.

“Hello, Roo. I’m glad you are still with us. My name is Lena; Corvus mentor.” She tapped the crow emblem on her robe over the breast. “Do you know who we are?”

I shook my head, but then remembered Bruce saying she assessed me during my coma. “You came to see me at Urser House when I didn’t wake up.”

Lena hesitated. “I’m sorry, no, you must have me confused. I’ve never met you before.”

“But… my father said the Corvus mentor came to assess me. Are there more than one?”

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Cash tensing.

“No, it’s just me at this Ludus.”

Lincoln’s odd look over breakfast made sense now. My father had lied. Bastard. I darted a glance at Cash. Behind his eyes, I saw death.

Lena continued speaking. “Our motto is Corvus Oculum Corvi Non Cruit.”

“A crow will not pull out the eye of another crow?” I questioned.

“That’s right. You speak Latin. Splendid. Then, you might understand we are healers in this house. We’ve taken an oath never do any nother life harm. That’s always been my goal, since the beginning, and I’m not going to change now. It doesn’t matter who or what you are. I’ll treat you the same as I treat my progeny. I will assess you now and see how much poison is left in your body.”

“Who, or what I am. You mean Soul-Eater, right?”

“It’s not for me to pass judgment.”

Lena touched my forehead. It felt good. I wanted to sink down into the pillows and revel in it like a cat rolls in catnip. She did something. Electrical. Metaphysical. She touched my soul.

The second person I’d heard during the emergency walked through the door with two IV bags in his hands. He didn’t wear a robe but a blue hoodie. When he turned to place the bags on a shelf, I caught the crow emblem printed on his back. His head was shaved, and he had high cheekbones and straight nose, giving him a hawkish face to match his mentor next to me. When he turned back, he saw me watching and gave me a quick closed mouth smile.

“This is Jesop,” Lena explained as she moved her hands to methodically touch my shoulders, and then throat. “He’s the one who converted the saline into the right treatment for you.”

“I’m an alchemist,” he said.

“Thank you.” I returned his small smile. “That’s an incredible ability to have.”

“Yes, we are very fortunate to have him,” Lena said. “I couldn’t help but think we’ve got someone from the Corvus Constellation looking out for us when they sent him as our next contender.” Lena hovered her palms over my chest. Her forehead crinkled, and she paused. “This is still here. I sensed it yesterday, but thought it might result from your poisoning. I was wrong. You have multiple energies with differing emotive signatures within you. Inconsistent with your prognosis of identity.”

My eyes met Cash’s. He said nothing, waiting for me to respond.

I inhaled deeply. Lena might be able to help. I had to trust people. But I wasn’t sure. For her safety and mine.

As if sensing my hesitance, Lena patted me. “Just like the human doctors, we’ve sworn an oath of privacy. What you say will never leave these walls. Do you have something you want to share?”

“Yes. I have other souls inside me. How could you tell? Can you read auras, like me?”

More routine hovering masked Lena’s surprise. She returned to her calm, steady and curious self before I was even sure I’d seen her jolt.

Jesop took a step back and his facial expression darkened.

“I thought everyone knew I could do that,” I said.

“No. Not everyone. Sensing a life-force, reading auras and manipulating them are all very different things. And I can’t read auras. That is rare. It’s an insight into one’s private sanctuary, like reading minds.”

“Can people read minds?”

“There’s plenty that can read a human’s, a few that can read Nephilim but not so many that can read Seraphim. Still, it’s not the same as aura reading. An aura has your emotions, capabilities and intentions of the past, present and the future. A mind has broken pieces of conscious thought. Tell me what you see when you read mine,” she asked.

I focused on the energy surrounding her body. The air warped around her, and the longer I stared at it, the more her energy spread. Soon, I followed her essence around the room.

“You’re everywhere, but you’re also here.”

“Keep going.”

“It’s how you see, isn’t it?”

“Yes. My eyes were torn out during the day we were banished to this planet. A creature attacked me. If it wasn’t for the queen’s enforcer protecting me from the prince’s abominations, I’d be dead.”

Cash straightened in his seat.

“Lena,” Jesop warned.

“It’s okay, Jesop.”

“But she’s an Urser.”

I grimaced.

Cash sat up, eyes darting to and fro, remembering. “Yes, Lena, you were there.”

“All Watchers were there,” she replied.

“No, I meant on that last day. When the prince died. What did you see?”

“It’s common knowledge what happened.” Lena’s head tilted to the side, inspecting Cash with curiosity.

“I need more details,” Cash said and strode around my bed to face Lena. “Truthful details.”

“Why?” Jesop interrupted. “Why do you care about the day my mentor’s eyes were ripped from her head? It’s a painful memory. One I’m sure she’d rather forget.”

Lena placed a calming hand on her progeny’s arm. “It’s okay, Jesop. I’ve made peace with it a long time ago. Please continue checking on the drip bag.”

Jesop turned a slow burn in Cash’s direction but came to check on the depleted bag that had been pushing fluid into me.

“Lena, please. If you remember anything, it can help my… situation,” Cash urged. “You know it’s not getting better.”

She sighed. “Yes, despite our attempts. That body is rejecting your soul, but how can my memory help?”

“Because I don’t think I have a Seraphim body to go back to. I didn’t come into this body through the normal Game protocols. I’ve been on this planet, reborn over and over again until finally, here I am. I’ve never left.”

Lena tapped her lip. “A minute ago, you said, ‘You were there, Lena.’ And it wasn’t a question, but a statement. How can you be so sure unless you were there too?”

A pause from Cash. “Because I was.”

Lena placed her palms on his temples. “Fascinating. Your hippocampus and frontal cortex are overactive, engaged in the long-term memory recollection. It’s unheard of. But then again, your entire situation is unheard of. You mentioned earlier that your soul broke and now it’s whole.” She let go. “Now you remember your original Seraphim life.”

“Yes,” he said. “Some of it. Can you tell me what happened on that day?”

“A librarian might be better suited to help you retrieve those memories. They can access the deepest archived parts of your brain, but with your body not healing, it’s doubtful you’ll survive the process.”

“A librarian can’t help me. I remember well enough until the moment I died. I want information for immediately after that.”

“When you died?” Lena looked thoughtful, as though she were piecing together a puzzle. “So, you’re saying I saw your death?”

“Who are you?” Jesop demanded, discarding the empty bag into a waste bin. “What do you want?”

“Jesop, it’s not for us to—”

“Judge, yes I know. But he’s lying to us, putting our house in danger.”

“I’m the queen’s enforcer.” Cash came to stand next to me and took hold of my hand again.

“Impossible,” Lena said. “I saw him die.”

“Well, I’m here. In soul, not in body.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m one hundred percent certain.”

“I’m sorry if this is disrespectful, but how can you be so sure if you were blind?” I asked.

Lena whipped around to face me. “Because watching the enforcer face off with the prince was the last thing I saw before the creature clawed my eyes out.”

“But did you see him actually die?” I asked, pressing on.

“Yes. He was there fighting the prince one minute. The next he was gone. Vaporized in the blue fire. It spread from the enforcer and blanketed the area for miles. It shot out of him, and every rabid creature dropped dead, including the creature attacking me. He saved us all.”

“Sounds like something you’d do, Cash,” I mumbled. “Saving the world at your own expense.”

“So you see, hunter, it couldn’t have been you. That Seraphim died.”

“No. I remember you, Lena. You were young, feisty, and you worked in the medical center the queen set up for the human village. You were a good person, volunteering your time. Except, your hair was a lot shorter, shaved on one side—an odd fashion, if I recall correctly.”

Silence deafened the room.

She turned on Cash. “Are you telling me that the force I saw spreading was your very own soul?”

Cash lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “It appears so.”

“Then… your soul wasn’t the only one that dispersed. The prince’s did too. I remember sensing many emotions in that explosion of life-force, not all of them yours. When nothing surfaced, we assumed both of you had died. I owe you my life,” said Lena.

Jesop made a derisive sound. “The enforcer died. He could’ve found that information about your appearance from the histories.”

“I never recorded my hairstyle. And after that day, I grew it out. The only way he’d know is if he’d seen me.”

“Or someone told him,” Jesop insisted.

Lena shook her head. “I’m an Empath. I read emotions and sense where chi is focused. And the hunter is sincere. I’m sorry, Cash. If you are who you say you are, then your body has been destroyed. I’ve tried to use my ability to direct your chi to heal, but it can’t. Your body is too human. Or, it could be the strange immunity you have to metaphysical powers.”

“I’m with you there. I’ve tried to do that on him—focus energy to heal. It doesn’t work,” I said. “Back home a friend of mine was cursed by a witch and I un-cursed him by making him heal himself through my own hex. But Cash is immune. I got his soul parts to join, but soul manipulation is not the same as body manipulation.”

Lena went very still with her face directed my way. I nearly said something because it was beginning to feel awkward, when she spoke to Cash.

“Perhaps a Seraphim blood infusion would help prolong your body, hunter. We can schedule you in for sample collection and find a match. Jesop may even be able to convert something that’s close to a match.”

“Wait a minute. You hexed someone like a witch?” Jesop asked, gazing at me through cautious eyes.

“Yeah, a witch tried to possess my mother when she was pregnant with me, but instead, I absorbed her and took her abilities. That’s why people think I’m a Soul-Eater.”

Lena clasped her hands together, intently listening. “That’s why you have different energies inside you? You absorbed them? Ah. It’s all making sense.”

I sighed. “I know what it sounds like, but… yes. I suppose that’s what happened. I battled a witch a few months ago and the only way to stop her from killing everyone I loved was to absorb her. She already fused souls with my sister. But now, I’m experiencing difficulties keeping them down and I don’t know how to get them out and separate them.”

Cash watched me with intensity and I thought maybe I said something I shouldn’t have. In silence, Lena returned her hands to hover over me, shaking her head. “Between the two of you, my power is getting a work out today.”

“Can you tell how many are left?” I asked.

“Souls? Maybe two, no, three. Four including your own. They are quiet, but…” Lena trailed her touch down my arm to where my hand met Cash’s. She continued up Cash’s arm.

He stiffened, uncomfortable, flaring his eyes at me, wary.

“Your soul is stronger here, through this connection,” Lena said. “I’m curious, you said you’re having trouble keeping them down. Does that happen around him?”

I thought back to all the times I’d heard The Others, or had them take over. None of those times were around him. Yes, I’d heard them in Houston, but he’d been away for most of that. Wren had said something similar when she handed Cash the book. I hadn’t forgotten about that conversation and mentally reminded myself to pick it up when Cash and I had some privacy.

“They’re definitely quieter around him,” I said.

“Fascinating. What other information can you give me?” she asked.

I started from the beginning and told her everything. How I could sample energy to strengthen myself, how I could manipulate biology like a witch, how I had the urge to drink someone’s blood and take in everything they had, including their abilities, memories and soul. How if I died, one soul in me would be sacrificed so that I may continue to live. I even told her my father might know how to trigger The Others. When I finished, I felt awful and barbaric.

“I want them out of me,” I said. “Desperately. But I want my sister separated from the witch. I want to give her soul peace. If I could have that, I’d consider myself healed.”

“The only way to get rid of them is to kill yourself in a controlled environment until the last one is sacrificed.”

“But what if it’s me that is sacrificed?”

“With the hunter close by, I don’t think so.”

“But I don’t want that. I don’t want Leila gone forever. I want her free to reincarnate, or go to heaven, or wherever human souls go.”

“I suppose, the souls got into you one way. There must be another way out. And you said the witch fused two souls together. There must be a way to undo that. When a door closes, a window opens.”

“There might be a way.” Jesop stood forward. All eyes moved to him. “You said you needed their blood to take them in, what if I remove traces of their blood in your body by converting it all to yours?”

“You would first need to see what her original, untainted blood looked like,” Lena said. “So you had a reference point.”

“Well, that’s unlikely. It’s not like I keep a vial lying around. And I don’t even know my true identity, so no idea where my Seraphim body is.” I gave Cash a meaningful look. He knew who I was, but kept silent. My head flopped down on the pillow.

“It’s not your Seraphim body we want. That blood is different to your aging Player body. If we were to transfuse your blood with a Seraphim match, it would convert you to Seraphim, then you’d become one. Immortal. Finding a match is almost impossible without your original body, so we need your Nephilim blood. Otherwise we’d breech the rules of the Game.”

Throughout our exchange, Cash didn’t mutter a sound, but something was going on behind those big multicolored eyes.

“Hm,” Lena mused. “Well, until then—I’d like to keep you in for observation over the next twenty-four hours. The poison appears to be gone, but we need to be sure. And you need rest. Nephilim can heal fast, but as Jesop said, you age and die, just like humans. Sometimes you need to rest like them too.”

“Thank you for everything you’ve done, but I’m feeling much better. I can’t stay.”

“You’re not going back to your father’s after what he did,” Cash said abruptly.

“I’m not staying here.” I wanted to get back to the Urser rooms to check that lab book. See if my name had been added. But the thought of stepping into that room with him, to be inches from my father, turned my stomach. What was to stop him triggering The Others again? This time, I could be out for weeks. Months. Maybe never.

“As long as you rest. I don’t mind where you do it,” Lena said. “And I have to let you know I reported this incident to the Tribunal. Assassination attempts on Ludus soil will not be tolerated. Roo, I’ll go and alert them to where you will stay in case they need you for follow up questioning. And your mentor would like to know, I’m guessing?”

“No!” I said at the same time Cash said, “I’m her mentor.”

“If you’re talking about Bruce Urser,” I elaborated. “He’s not my mentor. I have to live there because of my situation, but I want nothing else to do with him.”

Her head angled towards Cash suggestively. “I could discharge you to another?”

“I’ll watch her.” Cash’s eyes projected determination. “At my place.”

“Very well. I’ll recommend that you stay with your mentor until you recover. We’ve come up with a few solutions to your unwanted house guest problems, Roo. I expect you to come back to see me after the trials to pick one of them to investigate further. Jesop, honey, thank you for getting a new bag of saline, but I think we can remove the IVs. We’re sending Roo home.”

Chapter 22

“I’m not letting you go back to him. So get that out of your head in case you were thinking of going to spy. He can go fuck himself.” Cash’s arm around my waist tightened as we walked through the Ludus maze to his apartment.

I was dizzy, cold and lethargic, but getting better. My fingers weren’t numb but my teeth still chattered. Before I’d left, they lent me some Corvus House merchandise to dress in, including a hoodie and some sweatpants. Despite the internal fleece of the clothing, the cold wouldn’t leave my bones.

“I’m done with this nonsense,” Cash continued. “You belong with me where you’ll be safe. That’s what happens with all mentors and their progenies.”

I wasn’t so sure. After Cygnus, I had the sneaking suspicion that my being near him wasn’t safe for him. Not to mention I was fast becoming an assassination magnet. His abilities were failing him. Even Lena felt hopeless about his prognosis. Yes, he was a skilled warrior, and often instinctively brutal. My crushed neck was a testament to that. But what if the next time he woke him from a nightmare, he couldn’t protect himself? What if I was the nightmare—the one person who knew his weaknesses?

We arrived at his apartment and while he found his keys to open the door, I stepped back.

“Cash. I’m too dangerous for you to be around. I should go.”

“Talk like that again and I’m going to tie you down and lock you away.”

I gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

He opened the door and let it swing open. Then he hauled me over his shoulder in a fireman hold and walked into the rooms, kicking the door closed behind him.

My legs kicked in the air, my arms hung down his back and I smacked him repeatedly. Each strike glanced off uselessly. He tightened his hold around my waist.

“Don’t test me, Roo,” he growled. “I’m the dangerous one.”

His immovable mountain of a body didn’t budge, except for his heaving chest with every fast breath. He waited with me dangling.

Eventually, I stopped fighting. “Fine. I’ll stay. But it’s your funeral.”

He dumped me on a couch, and when I scrambled to a sitting position, I met his eyes. So many emotions battled in them. He wanted to hit me, scream at me, hug me, love me. Everything was clear one minute, the next, he clammed up and shut his expression down.

“You’re cold,” he said. “I’ll put the shower on. Stay there. Don’t move.”

He left me sitting on his couch, hugging myself, and stared at the wilting pot plant on the coffee table. I knew how it felt. I stroked the drooping leaves idly. It didn’t deserve to be neglected and wilted, kept in this underground concrete hideaway. A little buzz of life pulsed out of it, and my heart ached a little for its pain. I made a mental note to take it to the surface later for some natural light. I surveyed the rest of the room. It was decked out in cream, like the Urser apartment, only less opulent. No gold trimming. A flat screen television hung on the wall opposite me, and a dining table that seated four was in a corner. A kitchenette sat to one side, and on the other, the door Cash disappeared down. Must be the bedroom.

In front of the door was my purple suitcase, sitting proud and tall.

I teared up. Logically, I knew I shouldn’t be near Cash, but my heart ached to stay. Damned the consequences. Waking at Lena’s to find him waiting for me was the best feeling. He was my home.

I was falling in love with this man. His brute strength, his broody mood swings, his loyalty and affection—all of it. He was mine. I understood everything. I didn’t need to keep him away and he didn’t need to leave. We could enjoy this for whatever brief moment we had in this life. That’s what life was anyway, a series of moments joined together… right?

I followed in the direction he went. The soft sound of waves whispering on a shore hit my ears as I entered his bedroom. A large bed sat against the far end. A fake window stretched from wall to wall with a sunset over a beach illuminating the room. The sound of running water grew louder as I heard the faucet turn on.

When I found him leaning into the shower, holding his hand under the spray to test the temperature, he tensed. He glanced over his shoulder darkly at me. “I told you to stay put.”

“When do I ever do as I’m told?” I said with a little laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

He ignored me for a few moments while methodically setting about the room, getting it ready. Towels came out of the cabinet. Soap and shampoo set in the shower caddy. He dropped a foot towel on the floor. With each act, he paused and hesitated, as though he wanted to say something, but never did. By the time he finished, warm steam coated the room and his gray T-shirt clung to his torso.

He came to stand in front of me. “Strip,” he said.

I gaped.

“You’re weak, Roo. I don’t want you slipping in the shower, so I’m going to help you.”

“I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not. You have no idea how close you came. When you were lying there at Lena’s, you had so much oxygen in your blood that your skin went cherry red. Like this—” His finger twisted around a lock of my long hair. A flutter low in my stomach. “The steam and warm water will lift your core temperature. Let me help you. Strip.”

Still, I hesitated. Nervous.

His finger trailed from my hair, to my jaw, then along my collarbone and down, exploring my body over my clothes, efficiently checking—as if he didn’t believe his eyes, as if he needed to feel the reality. I was safe. Whole. His other hand joined in and soon, all I could feel was his touch. It was through a layer of fleece, but my skin sang in his wake. My heartbeat accelerated. Then he dropped his hands altogether, stepping back, frowning. Our eyes clashed.

“Roo, why do you doubt me so much?” Hurt flashed in his eyes. “Not just in this, but you keep wanting to go back to Urser. He’s abandoned you more than once, auctioned you off as a bride, caused you so much pain—physical and mental—yet you would rather be there than with me. Are you afraid of me? Have I ruined things so much between us?”

“Cash, it’s not you.”

“Is it because I won’t tell you who you really are? I know I said I want nothing between us—no lies, no secrets—but your identity is not my secret to tell. You have to trust me on that. Marc will be back soon, and… just hold on a little longer. Please. Ask me anything else and I’ll tell you the truth.”

I placed my palms on either side of his face. His lashes fluttered and he leaned in to my touch. I hated this wall of uncertainty dividing us.

“I can wait for Marc. I trust you. I want nothing between us, too.” I said. “So, I need to tell you something.”

He gripped my wrists and met my eyes with a steel gaze. “What is it?”

“The other night, when I blacked out for a few days, it was because The Others took over.”

“Yes, you mentioned that.”

“What I didn’t tell you was that Urser said something to trigger it. He made me drink some of Cygnus’s blood and soul. He found a way to control me.”

“So why would you want to go back there?” He pulled my hands from his face with a frown.

“Because your name was on the list.”

He didn’t respond. The silence stretched. I squeezed my stinging eyes shut, too afraid to face reality. When bravery opened them for me, I gasped at his intensity. Fists pumped at his side. Veins writhed up his muscled arms. Redness coated his face as he attempted to stifle his anger.

“I’m going to kill him,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Don’t you get it, Cash? He’s not the danger. I am. What if I am the catalyst for their experiments? What if I am the one who is turning people into monsters?”

Something snapped in him; his expression softened. “No. You would never hurt anyone.”

“It’s completely possible. I know how to change people at a molecular level. I can—”

“Stop.” He shook me gently. “It’s not you. I know.”

I didn’t want to be evil. “How?”

“I was there at the beginning. I saw the serum created. It’s him. It’s the prince. It’s Urser. It’s not you. I know you. Trust me, Roo. I would never lie to you about this.” He crushed me to his chest.

With his strength surrounding me on all sides, my inner walls crumbled. I wept in his arms and he didn’t let go. He had no idea how much I needed this contact. The touch. His confidence in me. I pulled him to me as tightly as I could. Suddenly, it wasn’t enough. I needed more of him. The heat of his body not only soothed my cold bones, but connected with a part of my soul. That recognition glimmered between us, beckoning, enticing. More. Two halves of a whole, he’d once said. Soulmates. In that moment, I believed it.

I pulled the hoodie over my head, leaving me exposed with nothing underneath.

His breath hitched and he stared at me, trying desperately to keep his eyes on my face. A second ticked by. Then another. His lashes lowered. To my lips. My neck. My chest. His thumb traced his lower lip, naked desire fueling his stare. His eyes hooded. It was the sexiest damn thing I’d ever seen, and it gave me the confidence to hook my thumbs on the waistband of my pants and inch them over my hips. His gaze kept lowering, following the movement of my hands. When I was done, I stepped out of the pooled clothes, naked, trembling.

I didn’t need to kiss him to know what he was feeling. I could see it on every part of his body. His eyes glazed, his chest heaved, his jeans grew tight at the crotch. The sheen of sweat over his forehead was not from the steam.

I slipped my fingers underneath the hem of his shirt to feel his bare skin. Yes. Warm, hard, soft. Living velvet. Exactly what I needed. My cold touch drew a sharp hiss from him, but I didn’t stop, and he didn’t make me. I kept my fingers light as I trailed up his front, starting at the ridges of his abdomen then up to his broad, firm chest. When I got to the neck hole of the shirt, I slid my fingers through and continued up the strong column of his neck. Powerful. Hot. Mine. His shirt bunched to make way for my reach and I stepped into him, flattening myself against his now exposed torso. Skin to skin. Sighing, my fingers slipped behind his neck. I rested my thumb on his racing pulse and listened to his ragged breath. He wanted me. But he waited.

The sound of the ocean crashed from the fake window. It almost felt like Margaret River back home. The shower streamed rhythmically, lulling me, calming me. Slowly, I thawed.

All the while, he watched, silently assessing, respectfully never touching. Letting me use his body to infuse warmth into me.

His Adam’s apple bobbed on a swallow and I cupped his jaw between my palms. Stubble scraped my skin, rough and raw. I used my thumb to trace his bottom lip, just as he had done to himself a moment ago. He opened his mouth to me and I slid in, wetting my thumb on his tongue. When he sucked, I gasped, heat pooling at my core. My nipples pebbled against his chest and he growled. He caught my wrists in a vice and yanked them from his face, then he pulled them out of his shirt. The fabric dropped to cover his body, separating us. A crime.

Rejection welled through me. It burned.

“I’m sorry,” he ground out. “I shouldn’t encourage you. You need to take it easy.”

“More,” I said. My ability to construct coherent thought was fast escaping me.

“You need to rest,” he said, gaze relaxing. “I almost lost you.”

“Touching you makes me stronger. Nothing between us,” I croaked, pleading. “I need you.” Crave you. Have to have you.

What was he thinking? What was going through that complex mind of his? Cash closed his pained eyes. Long lashes fanned against his cheeks. When he opened them, I knew I had won. The naked desire pouring out was an avalanche of emotion so powerful, I had to step backwards. He yanked his shirt over his head in one swift motion and dropped it.

Exhilarated at the predatory challenge in his eyes, I backed away, toward the shower. My butt hit the glass screen. He kept coming, eyes locked on my body, drinking me in. I watched as he undid his belt buckle, then the button, then the fly. He pulled his jeans down and let them fall. He stepped out of them and kicked them wantonly to the side. He braced his arms on either side of my head, boxing me in. Naked.

“Yes,” I breathed.

“Yes,” he said and brought his mouth to mine, crushing my lips with a kiss.

I moaned as the onslaught of his hidden essence slammed into me, lifting me, kindling me, consuming me. It flowed towards mine; a river to the sea. This was something that couldn’t lie, no matter what walls were between us. He needed me too, desperately. I gave back and we were long lost lovers dancing around each other. Breathless. Weightless. Lena was right. We were made for each other. A magnificent avalanche of rightness surged through me, and I knew he felt it too, because he sighed with his body. He relaxed into me all the way, deepening the kiss. He tasted salty, sweet, heady. He took my hands in his and lifted them over my head so he could flatten himself against me.

“There’s no going back,” he whispered. “No running away, Roo.”

“Yes,” I repeated, panting.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, more. Yes, you. Everything.”

He smiled. I melted against him. “I feel the same way,” he said.

“I can tell.” I nudged his erection with my hips. He gave a pained moan. “Now”—I trailed a teasing finger down his neck, to his chest, lower—“if you keep talking, I’m going to go mad.”

“I’ll show you mad.” He playfully nipped my bottom lip with his teeth and then hitched me up by the waist.

I wrapped my legs around him and our bodies touched at the most sensitive parts, still separated. I slid and ground against him, impatient, letting sparks fly in my body. Gods, he felt good. More. Now. No more waiting.

He pushed gently, the tip of him asking permission.

“Are you sure?” His voice was husky, broken.

I reached down and guided him in. It had been too long since I’d been with someone. It was almost too much. I cried out.

“Did I hurt you?” He hesitated, drawing out.

“It’s okay,” I breathed and pushed toward him again, bringing him deeper.

He cursed into my neck and slid in another inch, paused, then another, and another until he sheathed himself fully inside me. On an exhale, his head dropped to my shoulder, teeth on my flesh. He squeezed my rear and circled his hips, groaning in appreciation. He moved, in, out, languidly, taking his time, holding me in his strong arms against the screen.

My eager hips thrust to meet him with every painfully deliberate stroke he made. I needed—“More,” I demanded.

On my skin, his lips curved in a smile. He ignored my followup whimper and kept himself slow, relishing. He shifted my weight to one arm and brought the other to my front, thumb reaching down to my sweet spot, rubbing gently, sending me insane. Yes. This was insanity. This slow, aching build of tension.

“Cash,” I gasped. Both a plea and a warning. “Faster.”

His hot, wet tongue explored my earlobe, my jaw, and then my lips. I gripped his hair and pulled tight. His essence trickled through our contact. It tickled mine, teasing, probing. I shot mine back, invigorating him, urging him on. But he dipped his tongue into my mouth with the same leisurely rhythm as his hips. Bastard. Where was his heat? The passion. The raw, powerful energy I’d seen so much in him. He was being too gentle. Too careful. I wanted more. All of him. No holding back. I caught his tongue and sucked, eliciting a suppressed groan from deep in his throat.

The glass behind me creaked with our force; the heat beyond making it weak.

“Shit.” He stopped, panting, hands supporting me from underneath. The strain of holding my weight pulled every muscle in his body taut. His face flushed pink and adorable, dazed. I wiggled, wanting more. He cursed again. Another creak behind me. He grunted. “Glass will break. Open the shower door.”

I reached out with my power. The door to my side telekinetically opened. Captive steam puffed out and he rushed us inside until my back pushed through the hot stream to land against the cooler tiles. Oh God, that sharp shock of temperature.

Water cascaded down his body. Rivulets ran over every crevice and sinewy mound of flesh… it drove my heart into hyper-drive. I couldn’t get enough of him. I touched him everywhere. Everything inside me ached for him to go faster. Now, Cash. Now. Sensing my urgency, he moved with more lust, more drive and speed until I felt that sweet pressure build again.

“Cash…” I was helpless to do anything but hold on to him. “I’m going to…”

“Yes,” he said—grunted.

Tightness coiled at my center, pulling and growing at the same time.

“Roo.” He thrust, demanding.

I clamped down on his shoulder, biting down, about to explode, and then erupted around him, screaming his name, fighting for breath. My skin was on fire, my lungs burned, my vision went white. I clung to his shoulders for dear life.

He kissed my neck while the stars fell around me, and my legs weakened with aftershocks, then he plunged one last relentless time.

“Fuck.” His body grew tight, his shoulders tensed, his torso stiffened. He shuddered, breaking inside me.

Cash’s hold underneath me weakened, and my legs slid to the floor, supporting myself once again. I stroked his hair gently as he rested against me, catching his breath.

“Are you okay?” He ran his fingers down my front.

A sigh was all I could manage, and the sound of running water was all I could hear as we held each other close. Then he drew me off the wall. Wet, his long lashes clumped together. His cheeks flushed, and his lips were just-kissed-swollen. I could only imagine what I looked like.

“Let me wash you,” he said, reaching for a bottle of body wash in the caddy. While he squeezed a small amount onto his palm, for the first time, I noticed a slight discoloring on his torso under the ribs.

“What happened?” I touched a dark spot.

He sucked in a breath, abdomen pulling tight. “From our training.”

I gasped. “I did that?”

He lathered up and placed his hands on my collarbone where he massaged the slippery suds over my body with severe concentration, taking special consideration at the knots in my shoulders. I almost forgot what I had been saying.

“Cash,” I prompted. “Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine. Just healing slower than I’d like to admit. I want to wash your hair. Turn around.” Without waiting, he rotated me by the shoulders until I faced the wall. He tugged me back against him until the hot stream hit my head and ran down my back.

Gently, he pushed me out of the stream, put shampoo on his hands and rubbed my scalp in slow, orgasmic, circular strokes. Heaven. This must be what heaven felt like. My eyelids drifted closed, and I swayed. My hands shot out to steady myself against the tiles. What was I saying?

“Roo. You’re tired. Let’s get you out. Another big day tomorrow.” He rinsed my hair then turned the faucet off.

“Cash, I’ve never felt better.”

Ignoring my answer with a smile, he wrapped a towel around me, then himself. He picked me up and cradled me in his arms as he walked to the bed.

The last thing I remembered was the sound of the ocean singing me to sleep as his strong arms pulled me into his warm embrace. I thought, I’ll never go cold again, and, this was a moment I’d like to repeat.

Chapter 23

Soft lips on my neck woke me from my sleep haze.

“Roo, wake up.”

“Mm.” I opened my eyes to Cash’s gorgeous face staring down at me.

I grinned, licked my lips and eyed him off suggestively.

A solitary eyebrow lifted over his amused eyes. “As much as I’d like to entertain that thought I see flittering in your eyes, we have to get moving.”

But I drew him close and kissed him. His heavy body melted into me for a tiny minute then he pushed back. “Tonight. I promise.”

When he walked away, I registered he was fully clothed. “What’s so important?”

“Your second trial. Five am start, remember?”

I sat up sharply, pulling the blankets to cover myself. “Already?”

He nodded. “I let you sleep as long as I could. You needed your rest.”

“Shit,” I said. “Shit, shit, shit. How much time do we have?”

“About twenty minutes.”

Adrenaline pumped in my veins and I surged out of bed to search my suitcase for suitable attire.

“What do you want for breakfast? Bacon and eggs?” Cash called from the kitchen.

“Sweet mother of Prince, I’m never leaving here. You treat me like a queen.”

His silence expanded awkwardly. What did I say? Prince? I meant the musician. Maybe he thought I meant the evil one. Or was it… Oh. Queen. Idiot.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, thinking of his interstellar ex-girlfriend. “She must have done you over good.”

“She did. But I’m with you now.” His head poked back around the open doorway. He pointed at some clothes on the end of the bed. “Wear those.” Then he left again.

What he said hit me.

He’s with me.

As in… are we, really? A flash of our hot, steamy shower entered my mind. The feel of his hard body next to mine. The smell of him. The taste of him. I pulled a strand of knotty hair in front of my face and sniffed the residual shampoo scent. I smiled, falling back into the pillows and curling my toes. Yes. I’m with him and he’s with me.

He called my name from the kitchenette.

Shit. Trial. I dressed in the pair of black yoga pants and racer back top, then shoved on my joggers, tied my hair into a hasty bun and followed my nose.

In the kitchen, Cash’s mood had soured. His posture was tense, and he prodded the bacon with discontent. I shouldn’t have mentioned her. The infamous, demanding queen, always finding a way to leech into our lives. I disliked her already.

“Here,” I said and nudged him aside from the sizzling pan. “Let me take over. You’ve looked after me enough. Sit.”

He didn’t sit. He stood behind me and slipped his hands around my waist, nuzzling into my hair. “You smell good. I could get used to this.”

I smiled. “Me too. It’s almost—”

“Domestic?” He gave a short laugh through his nose.

“I was going to say, too good to be true, but… that’ll do.”

“Don’t get used to it. Our lives aren’t our own, we’ll be on the road soon enough.”

I pushed the eggs around for a bit. “Cash?”

“Mm?”

“I’m sorry I ruined the mood by bringing her up. Do you want to talk about it?”

He tightened his embrace, but said nothing.

“Okay,” I said. “You don’t have to talk about it. I’ll just remove the foot from my mouth and we can carry on.”

“It just that…” He paused.

I held my breath, hoping he’d continue.

“I knew there was something wrong,” he said, “and I didn’t listen to my instincts. I let her convince me she knew what she was doing that everything was okay. I should’ve stood my ground, but I didn’t, and in the end, we lost everything. Now I’m here, together with you, and I have the chance to start over… I don’t want to ruin it.”

I turned in his arms to find pain flickering behind his eyes. My heart broke.

He focused on me with grave concentration. “When you told me you would stay with Urser, I let you go against my better judgment. It won’t happen again. You’re coming back here after the trial. Don’t even think about arguing.”

I gently pressed my lips to his. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yup.” Bacon popped in the pan and I turned back to it.

Cash squeezed my hips in a show of solidarity, then let go. He held out two plates, and I dished up in silence, brain caught on a kernel of foreboding. Twice someone tried to kill me, and twice The Others took over. I wasn’t any closer to getting them out of me than I was days ago. In fact, it was getting worse.

Kill myself multiple times in a controlled environment, was Lena’s suggestion. Maybe she was right. I should book in an appointment with her as soon as the trials are over.

Cash placed our plates at the dinner table, and I was about to join him when I spied the lonely pot plant on the coffee table. It looked a little better than yesterday. I quickly retrieved it and placed it between us at the table, then poured some water from my glass into the plant. Its leaves immediately perked up, and I sensed from its tiny life-force that it was grateful. I shook my head. Must be imagining things. How could a plant talk to me?

When I looked up at Cash, he was watching me with an odd look.

“What?” I said.

“Nothing. You just reminded me of… never mind. Eat your breakfast.”

We ate our food. Me savoring my bacon, eying the plant proudly, Cash shoveling his meal into his mouth.

“Do you know what the second trial involves?” Cash asked when his plate was clean.

“The first is the written component, the second is the physical, and the third is the practical. But that’s all I know.”

“Right, well, we’ve done all we can in the time given for your physical training. You’ll also be demonstrating your abilities with another contender. Let’s hope you’re paired with a non-powered Nephilim. Hurry and finish your meal.”

I spooned eggs into my mouth, chewed and swallowed. “See, this is where this game gets confusing. We’re tested on our abilities, but we can’t use them in public. What’s the point?”

“You’re forbidden to let humans discover your skills, but you can use them on each other. This is to demonstrate what your skills are to the Tribunal—a way for them to catalog your abilities so they can keep track of you in the real world.”

“Won’t we risk hurting everyone in the crowd?”

“There’s a trans-astral portal that protects every one.”

“You said the trans-what now?”

“It uses the same technology as the windows in the rooms, but samples a physical space,” he explained. “The contenders move to another location we can see, but can’t be affected by. Kind of like a mechanical version of what Marc does. It can never go far though, a few hundred kilometers. Don’t worry about that. What’s going on in the background is of greater significance.”

“Like what?” I moved the food around my plate, suddenly not hungry anymore.

“Testing competing Houses for weakness. Picking off your competition. Gambling.”

“You can die in this trial?”

His grim face was my answer.

* * *

While we walked through the Ludus halls to the training arena, Cash drilled me on appropriate expectations.

“They all think you’re a Soul-Eater, so let it stay that way.”

I bit my lip, stifling my protest. Waiting for Marc was proving harder than I anticipated. How could I truly live up to my destiny—whatever it was—if I didn’t know who I was? But I said I’d wait. So I would.

“We can explain any other powers,” he continued, “that surface from your true self as being something you’ve absorbed. When it comes time to show off your abilities, just keep that in mind. Only give them enough to be satisfied. We’re not in this for the betting, we don’t care who wins, we just want to stop Urser from destroying this world. And survive.”

I remembered the list I wrote on my arm. “And live,” I added.

He looked askance at me. “That’s what I said.”

One day, I planned to show him what I meant by living, not just surviving. Last night was a perfect example. I felt whole with him. And not just in the biblical sense. We were two opposing ends of a magnet snapping together. Over and over again. In the shower, on the bed—liquid heat shot to my core and my face echoed a flush. How quickly my thoughts derailed around him.

Cash stopped walking and blocked me with an arm, halting me. I bumped into his solid body. He stared down at me, consternation on his face.

“Stop it,” he said. “You need to concentrate on what I’m telling you.”

“I am.”

“I can smell your mood, Roo. I know what you are thinking.” He folded his arms. It only served to make him look even more desirable. He wore a similar shirt as yesterday. It stretched nicely across his chest, showing off his manliness.

I fought back a smile and stared at my feet.

A sound something like a grunt came out of him. “What did I say?”

“Uh, that I should fly under the radar.”

“Right. That’s close enough. Come on.” He touched my arm lightly to spur us onwards. “As long as you don’t die, you can’t fail this trial. Even if you lose the sparring match, you still get let into the Game, so just take it easy.”

“That, I can do.”

Chapter 24

A doorman marked our arrival to training arena as we entered. He gave us a paper program that held the order of proceedings and directed us to preordained seats—down the front and to the right. Row one, seats four and five.

A group of people chanted “Carpé Ludus” and I cringed. Seize the Game.

Sports were never my thing in school. I was more likely to be found in the bathroom stalls sharing wine from our vineyard with my troublesome friends. Anything to get the attention of my absentee father. It never worked. These days, I did everything in my power to avoid his attention.

We made our way down the concrete steps to where the numerous training mats had been removed, and an enormous central one replaced it. To the far side sat a bench with five empty seats in front of it. That must be the Tribunal’s panel. Spectators filed into the stadium, nicely filling it up. From all the pre-game chanting and laughing going on, obviously this trial was a favorite. Except for me.

Sweat prickled my skin.

“How many do you think are here?” I whispered to Cash.

“About fifty or so, but my guess is it will fill to around a hundred.”

“Whoa. Good turn out.”

“The trials and the Libertine Ball are the events of the decade for each nation’s Ludus. All the Watchers around the country come.”

“Every decade?” I asked.

“There are smaller events and trials, like the one I was in a few years ago. But this particular trial coincides with the breeding program.”

“Are you saying I might have a ten-year-old sister or brother around?”

“It’s possible. But, stop thinking of them as your siblings. They’re not. And children aren’t allowed into the Ludus. They can’t keep it secret. That’s why Nephilim aren’t inducted into the Game until they mature. Here we go.”

We’d made it to our seats.

Like a gentleman, Cash stood back so I could enter the row first. We passed three strangers and then found our empty seats. Next to those sat Bruce. Next to him was Lincoln and then Ava with the rest of Epsilon House, including the mega douche-bag who spiked my soup with cyanide. My father glanced up from reading his paper program.

“You appear to have made a miraculous recovery.” The tone of his voice suggested the attack on my life was more like an illness, or a common cold. Something a bit of rest and relaxation could fix.

“Not too shabby for the second attempt on my life, right father dearest? This meat-suit is getting a thrashing. At this rate, you’ll have nothing left to marry off.”

Anyone within earshot gasped.

Nerves jangled in my body. My mouth went dry and wouldn’t work. Perhaps that was too much.

Bruce narrowed his eyes but didn’t say a word. No way in hell he’d sit there calmly when I’d spent the night away from his apartment. He was up to something.

I noticed a few familiar faces in the crowd. Cetus House with the delicate Wren and puppy eyed Cygnus looking less peaky than before. Then there were a couple more familiar faces with Aldebaran House. They looked buff, beefy and ready to crush some skulls. Most of the chanting came from them. Lena was here with Jesop and a medical standby kit. A few rows back, I spotted Jed watching with a severe cast to his gaze.

Cash side-stepped me and positioned himself in the seat next to Bruce, blocking my view of him. The action irritated my father, but put fire in Cash’s steady gaze. It made me smile as I sat.

“You’ll be called up at some point and they’ll tell you what to do,” Cash said to me, his voice almost drowning in the roar from the crowd as it escalated.

Excited people equaled high energy and the sudden burst made me almost swoon. Breathe in. Breathe out. I could handle this. But… so much power… it stung my eyes.

“Carpé Ludus.”

“Carpé Ludus.”

My heart-rate increased. Dizziness engulfed me as I thought of what happened last time I was in an excited crowd this big. It was a beach party in Margaret River. They were all drunk, and I got drunk off their energy. Intoxicated, more like it. I had no control over myself. I’d mashed people’s auras together, causing them to fall instantly in love with the person next to them. I still don’t know what resulted of my metaphysical manipulation. Did those people still love each other? Or did they turn obsessive, like my ex-boyfriend Steve. Shame speared my heart when I remembered I’d tried to manipulate Cash’s energy back then. Thankfully, he’d sensed it and was able to draw away. What scared me the most was that was only a taste of my full skill-set. I’d grown since then. What if I fucked up right now? Before the trial started?

My fate would be like that boy who got canceled at the registrar’s office.

I started to hyperventilate.

“What is it?” Cash squeezed my hand.

“Energy. Crowd.” Two words. That’s all I could get out, but he knew what I meant.

“Don’t let it in. Fight it.” He rubbed my hand with his thumb, and I focused on that sensation. Stronger together. I forced my lungs to slow.

“Good. Keep it up. Look at me. No one else. Breathe.”

I did. Soon, the buzz of the crowd was nothing more than their voices.

I dipped my head to his shoulder and soon I filtered all my nerves into my feet. They tapped erratically on the floor, and my nails found their way to my chattering teeth. I didn’t swoon, I didn’t lose control, but the bad feeling never left.

Cash’s arm stretched around me to rest on my shoulders and he pulled me into his body. He frowned. “We’re going to have to work on that control.”

The stadium lights dimmed and then brightened a few times. The main event was about to begin. I stiffened.

Cash moved our joined hands to my thigh, and I let go of my breath. On exhale, I caught Ava glaring at Cash’s hand on my leg, then at my face. Her eye twitched. Her aura echoed.

A shrill whistle sounded in the arena, capturing our attention. Immediately, the room stood, and I followed.

In walked five Tribunal members. Jacine in the lead with her pink bob and tight white dress. Octavia and Felix followed her. The fourth and fifth, I’d never seen before. Perhaps they’d flown in for the occasion. One man had long silver hair with an ageless face. He wore a white suit over a slim figure. The second man had light brown hair with a clipped beard. He also wore a suit but filled out the fabric with his muscular physique. His gaze raked over the front row until it hit Aldebaran House. He nodded in their direction, and then I understood where the muscles came from. Perhaps he was a mentor for them.

Each of the five stood at the panel desk, raised their right arm and took a blood oath of impartiality and fairness. Jacine added that although she was the head of Vernalis House in Europe, today she put her house ties aside to stand on behalf of the Gamekeeper who was off world. This disturbed me most of all, and I began to wonder if Marc would ever return in my lifetime.

“Let the second trial begin,” Jacine said, her voice amplified. “As is with Ludus tradition, we will pull the competitors names from the traditional Ludus Patera.”

I sat up, curious. A male attendant stepped up to the desk holding an ancient looking flat, ornate, gold bowl. Jacine reached into it and pulled out pieces of folded paper. “Our first two contenders are Drew Lyra and Darius Eridanus.”

The crowd murmured with anticipation as the two stood and took to the mat.

Drew, with his backwards cap, designer muscle T-shirt and baggy shorts looked the opposite of the tall, lithe Ken doll that was Darius from Eridanus House. Wren and I had laughed at the Eridanus motto at the depository—Always Virile—but now I saw it was no joke. Darius sauntered down to the mat with edgy, well-oiled movements, making me think he was completely aware of being admired. His slicked, blond head stood a foot taller than Drew and he wore the compression attire that athletes favored. His physique was, well, it was virile. The perfect specimen of a man.

“Referee, be a dove and activate the trans-astral portal. Set the timer for fifteen minutes. We’ve got a lot of people to get through today. Let’s make it snappy.” Jacine returned to her seat.

The referee, a man with short hair and a striped shirt, made his way around the center circle to hit a button on a series of half pillars. There might have been fifteen or twenty of them at least. When each was activated, a tower of energy shot up to hit a receptor on the ceiling. Upon final activation, an enormous sucking sound emitted from the pillars and a circle of light joined them. The mat disappeared. Instead of standing at the center of the arena, Drew and Darius stood facing each other on a sunny grassed field. The sucking sound died down to a small hum. The original Ludus crowd was no longer visible behind the circle, but replaced by a backdrop of distant mountains, tall trees, and flashes of blue sky. It was like watching a lifelike hologram.

“Oh wow. That’s amazing.”

“Yes,” Cash murmured, half in thought. “Those are the Kaskasapakte mountains in Sweden. The trans-astral reach has improved since the last time. Cetus must be making progress with technology.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Not if they use it to figure a way off this world.”

And take the dark serum with them.

“But they’re a long way from that happening. It’d be quicker to get the old star-gate functional than to develop new technology.”

“They can do that?”

He smiled briefly. “No. I made sure of that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. The queen’s bio-key is needed to activate the controls, and seeing as she’ll never physically return to this planet, there’s no risk.”

His words made me look for my father. To the left of Cash, he already watched us.

Chapter 25

When Drew and Darius’s fight ended fifteen minutes later, the scenery returned to the arena, showing faces of the crowd across the way ready for the next show. Both participants walked off the mat with only minor bumps and bruises.

Despite my pre-fight prejudice, it turned out Drew kicked Darius’s ass. The sound inside the pillars had come through muffled and disjointed, like a broken radio frequency. This effect had been welcome because Drew was more than a disrespectful party boy. He’d created thunderous sound vibrations when he clapped his hands. Darius not only cowered from the sonic boom, but had been hurled against the invisible barrier five feet from my face. Like a total newbie, I’d thrown my hands up to protect myself. Nothing came of my freak out, except Ava’s sneer in my direction.

I blinked at the memory, hands itching to reach Cash for comfort. Instead, I flexed my fingers on my knees and searched the arena for corners to count. There weren’t many in the round room, but I tried regardless.

The trial carried on for hours, and name after name was called. A shapeshifter, an illusionist, and a puppeteer were among the stand out abilities. One of the goth people I’d seen at the cafeteria had precognition—amazing!—except I wondered if that’s why she stared at me with suspicious eyes from her cafeteria table. She’d known I was about to be poisoned but did nothing to help.

Some people simply fought each other with few special abilities in sight. These rounds were a game of physical prowess in lieu of supernatural power.

“Lincoln Urser and, ooh, let me see. I can’t—”

I looked up to catch Jacine fishing in the ceremonial bowl.

“Oh, yes. Here we go. I’ve got one now.” She unfolded a square of paper, then frowned at the referee holding the bowl. She held the paper out for him to read. “This can’t be right. That’s not a name.”

The referee pointed and said something under his breath.

“Okay.” She read the paper again, making an effort to annunciate carefully. “Crank Lyra.”

A loud whooping sound came from somewhere in the audience followed by some youthful cheering, probably from Drew, now finished his part in the trial and allowed to sit wherever. Whatever the case, it lightened the mood.

A few seats to my right, Crank stood up and wiped his palms down his thighs. Like Drew, he wore his cap on backwards and wore the same baggy workout clothes. No gold chains in sight today. Lincoln, in comparison, wore a sweatband around his blond ringlets, a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt turned inside out. The short sleeves were rolled up and had a pack of cigarettes tucked into one arm. He walked from my left to meet his friend at the entrance of the mat and mock bowed to each other, grinning.

Everyone laughed.

Except my father. An unreadable expression stole over his features that, when combined with his suspiciously still aura, churned my insides. He was the calm before a storm. Razor sharp focus on Lincoln didn’t waver. Bruce’s body didn’t move. Not a twitch. I couldn’t place my finger on it, but the gleam in his eye was more than parental concern.

If I hadn’t already been watching him, I might have missed it—the almost imperceptible nod he made toward Crank’s mentor a few seats to my right.

I tapped Cash on the thigh. “Did you see that?”

“See what?” he replied.

My father looked my way, as if he’d heard, so I mumbled, “Never mind.”

Lincoln spoke to the referee who then moved to a computer tablet and tapped it a few times. When the pillars activated, the scenery changed. I almost laughed when I recognized the new landscape—the meadow from Lincoln’s fake window with Palomino horses grazing in the distance. It was Lincoln’s personal rebellion to my father for rarely letting him out of the Ludus.

The performance began with Lincoln pulling out a cigarette, lighting it up and sticking it in his mouth. He rotated until he stood side-on to Crank. It all had a rather tawdry magic show vibe. I half expected them to pull out a rabbit from Crank’s baseball cap, or to get one horse to disappear. As it was, Crank sized up Lincoln’s cigarette with exaggerated attention, aimed, and fired something from his mouth straight at it. The cigarette knocked right out of his mouth. A collective gasp of surprise and more laughter erupted around me. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad.

The next time, Lincoln stood the cigarette packet on his head for Crank to shoot off. The crowd responded raucously, out of control. The Lyra mentor stood in his seat and whistled at such a pitch, we all blocked our ears and stopped talking. I caught his shared glare with Bruce before he redirected his piercing whistle through the barrier. I winced at the sharp crack of sound and noticed something I thought no one else did. Maybe it came from my ability to sense auras, but the sound the mentor made became visible as it traveled from his mouth. A thin line of air warped like the tailwind of a flying bullet. Inside the pillars, the sound wave found Crank. He jerked as though hit and then straightened himself. Amusement dropped from his features, fun time over.

Lincoln’s mouth moved as he spoke, but from where we sat, only muffled sounds came through. Crank didn’t respond, but advanced until he punched Lincoln in the face, sending him flying backward onto the grass. Crank towered over him, scowling. Then he kicked Lincoln in the side, making him hunch to protect himself. He kicked again. Lethal and precise. Lincoln rolled to the side and scrambled to his feet, holding his palms out in surrender. Crank didn’t seem to notice, or care. He pursued.

The jovial vibe in the arena morphed to antagonistic. The bloodthirsty crowd cheered and jeered. Some volleyed for Lincoln, most for Crank.

Crank’s mentor stood and yelled, “That’s my boy. Show them what you can do.”

Crank cocked his head our way as though he’d heard, then turned back to his opponent and puckered his lips, whistling. The sound increased in crescendo to a point we heard clear as a wailing banshee. Lincoln suddenly seized, his eyes flared wide. He blocked his ears and dropped to his knees. A trickle of blood oozed out of his nose.

“Do something.” I launched to my feet, head swiveling toward my father, panic closing a fist around my heart. “Lincoln is in trouble.”

Bruce ignored me, but he heard. I knew because Ava looked my way with a tiny smile curving her lips.

“The barrier won’t come down until the fifteen minutes is up,” Cash said. “Lincoln is on his own.”

I growled in frustration. How could he sit so calmly while Lincoln was in danger?

The whistle rose in pitch until everyone in the front row winced, yet my father still did nothing.

Lincoln wreathed on the grass, hands to his ears, face screwed up, blood oozing from orifices. Crank stood over him, relentless, head cocked to the side like a mad scientist watching an experiment.

“Bruce. Do something!” I yelled to be heard over the piercing whistle. “He’s killing him.”

“If he can’t take fifteen minutes within the pillars, he has no business being in the Game.”

The bottom of my stomach dropped, and I went cold. He’s written him off. Just like he did with me when he thought I was a witch instead of Nephilim. That bastard. Son of a bitch. All of it. I hated him. Truly hated him.

“Cash!” I pleaded.

“Only Marc can cross the barrier, Roo. I’m sorry. This isn’t unheard of. Contenders don’t always make it to Player status. Better to let this play out. Under the radar, remember?”

My father might not care, and Cash had given up, but not me. I couldn’t watch Lincoln die while people cheered and booed. It was sickening. The perfect example of why this Game should be ended. We were temporary fixtures in these bodies, but we still had feelings. We mattered.

I bit my lip, eyes wide, staring at the horses in the distance mostly unaffected by Crank’s audial onslaught, but the ones closest to him were restless. The worst of the sound-missile had focused on Lincoln. A glance at the Lyra mentor to my right sparked a recollection. His whistle had gone through the barrier to hit Crank. It went through. When Drew had used his thunderclap, we’d heard it from our seats, also penetrating the barrier. They said nothing could break through, but that wasn’t exactly true, sound could.

First Drew, then the mentor, now Crank. Lyra House were all Sirens.

Myths and legends told tales of sirens luring sailors to their deaths with song. Perhaps this was something similar. The Lyra mentor had tampered with the trial by sending a suggestion through the barrier because, initially, Crank was happy to play with Lincoln. That was until my father had nodded at the Lyra mentor.

I couldn’t sit around waiting for Lincoln to expire. If Marc could cross that barrier, then maybe I could too. The sneaky start of a plan formed in my brain. I’d crossed the in-between with Marc before. Numerous times. My body could take it.

Lincoln’s movements on the grass slowed. The fight left his body and his eyes locked on the horses in the distance. The Ludus system had victimized him more than anyone. It promised he’d have abilities to befit royalty, but he was born with none. He put up with living underground and he partied to numb the pain of rejection. I’d pushed through my father’s rejection with the help of my friends, Kitty and Alvin. But when your own friend turns against you, what else was there to live for? My eyes stung, and I furiously wiped the tears before anyone noticed.

Stupid Game.

I couldn’t let him die.

Without warning, I jumped out of my seat. Cash reached to stop me, but I sprinted across the walkway. With a powerful surge from my thighs, I launched at the barrier, throwing my hands up to shield my face.

Chapter 26

The trans-astral barrier passed through me with a tickle. I’d expected resistance or pain, but there had been none. My body launched into the field like a rocket, proving my instincts rang true. A thousand sudden needles pierced my eardrums from the sound onslaught coming from Crank’s mouth. I crashed on my shoulder behind Crank. On instinct, I tucked my legs in and rolled to avoid doing major damage and then threw my hands up to block my ears, as if that would protect me. The sound wasn’t even directed my way. In a sheer moment of panic, I thought, what the hell had I done? But then my wits returned, and I used my power to stuff hardened air into my ears like virtual earplugs. Instantly, the sound softened, almost disappearing. It was enough to help me gather myself and stand on shaky feet.

I surveyed the trees and restless horses. Manure bloomed in the air. The Ludus had disappeared—sight, scent and auras—all gone. The midday sun shone brightly on my head, warming my scalp under its touch. A movement to my right brought my head around to catch a butterfly flittering past. It really was a portal to another place.

“Crank,” I yelled.

He ignored me. I tried to siphon his energy, hoping to make him weak, but something blocked me. His life-force pulsed beyond my reach, as though behind a film of plastic cling-wrap. Shit. Lincoln’s life-force flickered and his body stopped moving. Adrenaline surged in my blood. I pushed and prodded Crank with my power, testing the block until I found a weak spot, a corner of the Band-Aid not stuck down. I ripped it off and yanked on his energy, soaking it up. A tidal wave of life smashed into me and I staggered with the hit.

Crank sagged and faltered.

He stopped whistling.

“Crank,” I yelled again. This time, he turned around. He shook his head as though waking from a daze.

I eased the air out of my ears, but held firm to his energy, keeping it ready and within reach in case I needed to pull on it again..

“Roo? Where did you come from?”

Relief coursed through me and I relaxed my assault.

Then his face darkened. He closed the gap between us in two strides and struck me with the back of his hand.

Agony sliced my cheekbone, and I fell to the side. Crank came at me again. My self-defense lessons kicked in and I used my low vantage position to grapple with him. His falling momentum helped me to power my roll to end on top of him. Crank’s eyes widened a fraction, his arms splayed out in shock. He brought his palms together on my head, boxing my ears painfully. God that hurt.

My vision blurred and my eyes sprung leaks. I closed them for a second, only a second, and Crank knocked me off balance. I went face first into the muddy grass next to us.

Retaliate, The Others cried out. Drain him. Take his life.

Panic surged at the sound of my passengers. Lena said they were stronger when I was apart from Cash. He was in Australia and I was... somewhere else not the Ludus. If they took over my body while the crowd watched. The thought spurred me into action. I had to end this.

I scrambled to my feet and faced Crank. We circled each other. I dared to break eye contact to check on Lincoln. His energy became steady which meant his Nephilim body repaired. He was alive. Just.

“Stop,” I said to Crank.

“We don’t stop until the barrier comes down,” he replied and whistled. I stuffed my ears again, to block the sound.

“Don’t make me hurt you,” I said, advancing on him.

He laughed. “You can’t hurt me. You’re a girl.”

“Wrong thing to say, buddy.” I swiped the air in front of him. My newly absorbed energy snapped out of my body, eager to expend. It sliced in a razor sharp line until a red slash appeared on his chest. The bloody wound showed through his gaping shirt. There were many gifts in my repertoire. I didn’t need to escalate to soul stealing just yet.

Crank’s hand went to his middle, testing. The shallow wound closed up, but he saw it for what it was—a warning. The next one would be worse.

“You won, Crank. You don’t need to keep hurting us.”

“I didn’t win if you’re alive. That’s what he said. No one but me left alive.”

He must be his mentor. “But all the other battles had two people walking off. You can pass the trial without killing.”

My words didn’t fit with his logic and he faltered, glancing at his friend. Registering what he’d done, he kneeled on the floor, eyes wide. Then Crank covered his face in his hands.

I rushed to Lincoln, landing near his head. I felt for a pulse, just to make sure. Yes. It was there and steady.

“Lincoln,” I whispered.

He groaned. “I feel like I’ve been trampled by horses.”

“Just Crank.”

Lincoln wiped the blood from his nose, leaving a smear across his face. The look of betrayal on his face was heartbreaking.

He’d almost died at the hand of his most trusted friend. It left me cursing the brevity and fickleness of the Game. You couldn’t trust anyone if you wanted to live.

The trans-astral barrier came down and, suddenly, we weren’t alone. The entire auditorium at the arena came into sharp view. There should be more sound. Where was the cheering I’d heard before?

Cash stood at the edge of the barrier, arms folded, and with a dark and furious expression. My father looked oddly triumphant from his seat.

A hush had settled on the crowd.

All eyes were on me.

The rule-breaker.

The cheater.

I averted my gaze to prevent the prickly heat taking over my body, but it rose, itching my arms, neck, and cheeks. My fingers heated and sparked. Damn it! Damn it all to hell. Why did my body have to betray my self-doubt? I grit my teeth and forced my emotions to settle enough to offer Lincoln a hand up.

He winced and slapped it away, preferring to help himself to a sitting position. I’d saved his life, but he might not see it that way. I guessed having your ring-in-sister bust into your trial to intervene may have been a little emasculating. But if I thought the look he gave me was bitter, the one he shot Crank, his best friend, was vitriol. His body healed, repairing the damage, but would their friendship? For his sake, I hoped so.

Jacine marched onto the mat, flames glittering in her icy blue eyes. Her fairy-floss pink hairdo lifted with static electricity, a sign that her potent aura swelled with emotion. My eyes watered from her vibrations of power as she stood in front of me. I expected a berating for interrupting the natural order of things, but that was not what I got.

“What have you done with the Gamekeeper?” she barked.

“Gamekeeper? Nothing.”

“We all saw you cross the barrier. You have his skill. Explain how you can do that unless you stole it from him. Have you killed him? Is that why he’s been gone so long, because he’s dead?”

“Whoa. He’s only been gone a week. Relax.”

“Don’t tell me to relax. He said he would be back as soon as possible. He’s not.” The animosity in her eyes surprised me. Where had it come from?

Lincoln and Crank scrambled off the mat, leaving me to fend for myself. I opened and closed my mouth, unsure what to say next. Marc once warned me against revealing he’d pushed some of his essence into me. We’d both be in trouble for it.

Veins bulged in Jacine’s forehead. “I swear to the queen, if you did anything to hurt him… Answer me, dove, or I’ll force it out of you.”

I flinched. “I would never hurt Marc.”

“Oh, so it’s Marc, now, is it? Players are to address him by his official title.”

“Jeez, the Gamekeeper, okay? I took nothing from the Gamekeeper, okay?”

“I’ll thank you to give me more respect.” She moved as though she would attack me.

Movement to my right showed Cash readying to intervene. Jacine noticed and backed off, but her questions didn’t. She asked again, how I came to have the same skill as the Gamekeeper.

Shit. Well, it was his fault. I didn’t ask for his skill. The first time we’d met, he tried to hit on me, like, romantically. When he found out I was a soon to be Player, he sulked. He gave me a parting kiss to remember him by. The kiss came with consequences. We were friends now but, still, I always put my ability to travel through the in-between down to that day.

“He gave it to me,” I confessed. I wasn’t going down because he was a randy god who couldn’t keep it in his pants.

The look of sheer horror on Jacine’s face was one of many—shock, disgust, jealously, fear—I couldn’t decipher them all, but they traversed her features leaving me with the feeling she balanced on a razor’s edge.

I darted a glance around the arena, my heart skipping madly. The prickly feeling I’d fought earlier crackled and skipped over my skin—electric shocks of power. People whispered in the ears of their neighbors while staring at me. Freak show on display. All I needed was to be naked, and then my worst nightmare had come true.

When Jacine had her emotions under control, she said through gritted teeth: “He is not allowed to show any Player or registrant favor.”

“Oh, it was before I was registered.” I waved her off. “He kissed me—”

“He kissed you?”

The sharp tone in her voice made me jump and a spark shot out of my fingers, searing the rubber mat at my feet. A chemical curl wafted into the air, a reminder to calm the fuck down, Roo, else you’ll be carted off to another prison. Worse. She could end me right there.

“Yeah, but it was a joke, right Cash?” I glanced at him with a small laugh.

In the time we’d talked, he stalked towards us. His movements were small as to not startle. I had the sense he stepped toward a loony with a gun.

But was that me… or Jacine?

* * *

Cash made it to the mat and placed a steady hand on my shoulder. Immediately, I felt better. The energy surging through my pulse calmed under his weight.

“Jacine,” Cash lowered his voice. “I think we can continue this conversation later. Let’s focus on the rest of the contenders who need to finish their trials.”

Jacine’s troubled gaze swept across the room and landed on the Tribunal. They’d remained confident and proper the entire time. Nothing, not even my disruption, had stirred their resolve. As though activated to life by Jacine’s attention, Felix rose to his feet.

“The hunter is correct,” he said. “We have more registrants to get through. Seeing as this woman halted proceedings, I call for her effort to count as her trial.”

Murmurs from the arena and Tribunal bench broke out.

“That’s an excellent idea,” Cash replied. “She demonstrated her abilities. The trial requirements have been satisfied. In fact, she stopped a very suspect assassination attempt.”

“What do you mean suspect?” Felix asked.

“Well, unless you’re blind, you would have noticed the mentor from Lyra House stand up and use his power. You all know a Siren’s voice can penetrate many barriers. You’re not blind, are you?”

Silence.

Nervous glances darted between the five. All knew that if they had to investigate the trial, one of their own precious Watchers would have to be put under the microscope. None of them wanted that. Perhaps because it meant they’d all be under scrutiny. What secrets did they know about each other?

“I concur,” Jacine said hastily, giving me daggers. “Shall we vote? All those in favor of—what is your name again, dove?”

Right. As if she forgot my name. “La Roux Urser.”

“Urser. Of course you bloody are. All those in favor of having this count as Ms. Urser’s trial, raise your hand.”

Four Tribunal members raised their hand.

The fifth, Octavia, shot me daggers. Her gaze flicked to over my shoulder toward Bruce and then her voice rose in discord: “She cheated, she must be canceled.”

Jacine pinched the bridge of her nose and gave a dramatic sigh. “Must you disagree with everything, Octavia?”

“She cheated.” Octavia glared at me.

“Fine. The vote must be unanimous, we must come to a decision. Considering the trials have been halted enough already, I propose we continue this conversation tonight. In private. All those in favor?”

All five lifted their hands.

“Good. It’s settled then. You two may leave until further notice.”

Cash took my upper arm and guided me off the mat with haste. I wanted to check on Lincoln, but his seat was empty. My glance shifted one seat over, to my father, whose triumphant glaze had remained.

Chapter 27

The second we left the arena, Cash let go of my arm as though it were on fire. He rounded on me, fuming.

“Why?”

“Jeez, so many things I can say to that. You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Why did you put yourself at risk when I told you to wait it out?”

“If you’re referring to saving my brother’s life—”

“He’s not your brother!” His voice boomed in the narrow hallway, shocking me into silence.

My already racing heart kicked up a beat. I stared him down while I caught my breath. We were alone, but not for long. In fifteen minutes, the current trial would be over, and it was possible more people would leave. I thought of the empty seat next to my father, of the pained look Lincoln had given those horses as he laid in the field dying.

“He’s worth saving,” I said.

Cash ground his teeth, tendons in his jaw popped. “Not again.”

“Again, what?” I shook my head. I’d had enough. “I’m tired of being told what to do, and how to behave. First my father, then the frigging Others, now you!”

Someone cleared their throat behind me.

I spun, ready to berate them too, but it was Bruce. Should’ve known. Should have sensed him. Peachy.

“What do you want?” I spat.

Amusement shone in his eyes as he darted a glance between Cash and me. “A word, daughter?”

“You can say what you need in front of my mentor.” I folded my arms. I may be pissed off at Cash, but I wasn’t stupid.

Behind my father’s rugged face, more people filed out of the arena. Too many, as though it had finished.

“What’s going on, Bruce?” Cash asked, waving to the crowd.

“At my suggestion, they’re convening for the day.”

“You expect us to thank you?” Cash said.

My father shrugged. “I don’t give a shit what you expect, but we need to move out of the way.”

He was right. The hallway got crowded, and if the loaded stares I received in the arena were bad, these drilled through to my bones.

Sick of it.

I was goddamned sick of being treated like a pariah.

“Bruce.” A tall, brown skinned man approached my father. His eyes were green and his brown hair had been cut short, close to his scalp. He moved like a panther and wore a black sports jacket with a snake emblem. Epsilon.

Ava trailed behind him, her wild hair free and flowing, untamed. Two more Epsilon members joined her. One of them was the poisoner. His blond hair was like Ava’s, long and unruly. He tied it back at the nape and slicked the frizz with grease. He must be Rus, and his companion, another male, Val. Val’s hair had been shaved off.

Cash’s energy exploded from his body and hit me like a wall of heat.

Shocked, I checked him. His aura rarely made a public appearance. It’s what made him a great hunter. When he wanted to, he could move like a ghost, quiet, fast and lethal. Coupled with his undetectable aura, he was a formidable opponent, even to soul sensing people like me.

Cash’s stony gaze pierced Rus with the force of an arrow. The man had the decency to look worried.

My father turned to his friend. “Pontius.”

“Dinner still on for tonight?” Pontius glanced at me with curiosity.

“This isn’t over.” Bruce pointed at me and then stepped away.

I narrowed my eyes at our friends in Epsilon, still standing close by, eyeing me off in return.

“I know you’re behind the poisoning.” I thrust my chin at Rus.

Ava glanced at her mentor and my father talking, then rounded on me. “It’s no secret we don’t like you.”

“Are you admitting to breaking the terms of the Ludus, Ava?” Cash’s voice had the calmest tone, deathly smooth.

“What would Bruce think?” I knew she looked up to him.

In response, she leaned in close and lowered her voice. “Who do you think told us to do it?”

I gasped. Air solidified in my lungs. Why would he want me dead? He wanted me to fail, to breed, to be his catalyst, not die. This confession cemented Cash’s declaration: I wasn’t to blame for the serum… just some other part of Urser’s plan.

A small smile spread across her cocky face. “Next time, you won’t be so lucky.”

“You won’t be so lucky when I’m done with you,” I replied. Oh, great, Roo. Just great. Act like a third-grader, why don’t you?

She laughed cruelly. “You? What can you do? You can’t even control your power. Half of it is locked away inside you. And being Nephilim, you’re not even strong enough to handle a librarian’s touch.”

“Goddamn it.” Rus slapped her across the shoulder. “Idiot.”

Fuck, she was right. I hated her, but she was right. If I had full access to The Book of the Dead, I could rewrite everything! I could control the demons inside me.

Cash sized the two up, calculating his odds.

“See you at eight.” Bruce spoke to the Epsilon group. With his words, he showed his back, dismissing them. He gestured with his hand down the hall where it was less crowded. “Roo-Roo, a word.”

Bastard. When he used that name, he wanted something. Probably another soul-sucking demonstration at dinner. My heart beat faster at the thought of sharing a meal with those people.

I wouldn’t do it.

I wouldn’t put myself within reach of those people again. I didn’t care if it was the duty of a royal. Royal my ass. They poisoned me in public. They’d have no qualms with doing it privately.

Cash’s warm hand landed at the base of my neck, instantly soothing me. I almost melted into him. Instead, I inhaled and followed my father to the quiet spot. Cash followed immediately behind, never leaving my side.

Bruce noticed, glared, then ignored him.

“I will not go to another dinner,” I said to Bruce. “I’m done.”

That amusement flickered in his eyes again. “Good. Because you’re not invited. This is for your brother’s betrothal arrangement only.”

The air expelled from my lungs, and I let it ride out, long and slow through my teeth.

“Considering his feelings for you, it’s best you stay away from the apartment for the night, anyway.”

“Lincoln’s feelings?” I frowned. “Because I saved his life?”

“You embarrassed him.”

“But I saved his life!”

“Like any Player worth his salt, he would rather die than admit weakness. I don’t know whether to be proud of you for showing strength, or to punish you for disrespecting our House and the rules of the game.” He shot a scathing look at Cash. “You obviously didn’t use your two weeks together for training.”

“Fuck you,” Cash snarled.

My father clicked his tongue in a superior, disapproving way. “So uncouth. Roo, stay out of the apartment tonight. I expect you back in the morning.”

Then he walked away.

Cash wasted no time in pulling his cell phone out to dial a number, watching me. Thoughts collided behind his eyes until someone answered. “Jed, meet us at the cafeteria in two minutes.”

Why all of a sudden did Bruce accept my independence? Why let me stay at Cash’s. He owned my body, he’d said it on numerous occasions. While Cash had a plan, I was even more confused than ever.

* * *

Jed met us at a corner cafeteria table.

Between Bruce’s shock acquiescence, and my flashbacks of being poisoned, my stomach was in turmoil. Cyanide was more than a memory. I could actually taste its bitterness in my mouth. I refused to eat the food, instead content to glare at groups congregating at other tables. With the remainder of the second trial suspended until tomorrow, and little else to do in the underground, most came here to feed.

The creepy goth girl from Astraia House with precognition watched me with spectacular interest. No more hiding behind black painted fingernails in her teeth. Her four friends gave me occasional glances, but she never took her attention off me.

“I’ll get you some food,” Cash said, bringing my awareness back to him. “You should try the Lamb Brisket. It’s nowhere near as good as Ma makes, but Jacine said it’s not bad.”

I sensed an attempt at cheering me up. I liked meeting his mother and enjoyed her cooking even better. But it was no use. I wouldn’t eat here.

“How about I get you a bowl?” He got up to leave.

I stopped him with a hand to his wrist. “Can’t I eat back at your place? Less chance I’ll be killed there.”

“The food is all from the same place, Roo. Eat.”

“Yes, you should eat.” Jed approached our table.

“No,” I replied then shrugged. “You can’t blame me.”

“You’ll go hungry then.” Cash waved for Jed to sit down.

“Would you eat at the place you were poisoned, Jed?”

“Uh, I don’t think you have a choice, Roo.”

“Yes I do. I’m going topside to get something later.”

Cash slapped his palms on the table. “Not on your own, you won’t.”

“You don’t own me, Cash.”

“I don’t care.”

“Yes, you do care, Cash. You care so much you think you can tell me what to do and say.”

A dangerous intensity crept into his voice. “You know you can’t go out in public without a guardian. That’s not my rule.”

“I should come back later.” Jed rose halfway to standing.

“No!” I yelled at the same time Cash said, “Sit down.”

Cash returned his glower my way. “Why are you arguing with me?”

I glared back. “You tried to stop me from helping Lincoln.”

“No, I tried to stop you from hurting yourself. I don’t give a flying fuck about Lincoln.”

My fist slammed on the table. “I do.”

He exhaled, shaking his head. “Why? I told you, he’s not—”

“Don’t say he’s not my real brother. I know. I’ve been reminded ten times over. There’s no need to patronize me.”

“So, why? Help me understand.”

I pressed my lips together because I couldn’t tell him. I didn’t know. Maybe I was a sucker for my father’s use of familial words, or maybe it was the gift horse Lincoln left on my bedside table when I was comatose. Bruce didn’t fight for him, so I did. Every soul deserved a chance at happiness.

“There are more important things for us to be doing, like figuring out how the hell we’re going to stop those names on the list from being crossed out.”

Jed picked at a spot on the table. “Names on a list?”

I took a deep breath. We hadn’t told Jed, yet. When I relayed what I’d found, his expression darkened.

Cash moved to stand next to me. “If we weren’t wasting time on Lincoln, I wouldn’t have to spend the evening with the Tribunal pleading your case. We could be working on the list, or preparing you for the next trial.”

“I’m not apologizing for saving him.”

Cash’s head shot up, eyes speared toward the cafeteria entrance. I followed his gaze and regretted it.

“Great.” Bitterness twisted my mouth out of shape. “Just what I need.”

Jacine walked toward us, swaying her hips, clicking her heals. All heads swiveled her way. I had to admit, she was hard to ignore. Perfect body, perfect face. Jealousy speared through me when I caught Cash and Jed’s eyes glued to her approach.

Her eyes were for my mentor only. “My quarters in five, hunter.”

“Can it wait?” he asked rudely.

“No.” She sniffed, looked fixedly at me, and then turned around and left, seductively sashaying as she went.

I snorted. She and her perfect ass can bite me. “We don’t have to do what she says.”

“You weren’t invited, Roo,” Cash said, then turned to Jed. “I won’t be long. Don’t let her go anywhere.”

My jaw hit the floor.

“Stop gawking, Roo,” Jed said as Cash walked away. “She’s the boss. If she wants to shake her perfect ass in his face, then she can. He has to go.”

I shot Jed accusing eyes.

“What? She’s hot. We’re not blind.”

“What the hell has gotten into you all?”

He shrugged. “She’s the Goddess of Love.”

Oh for heaven’s sake. I stood up. “I’m going above ground to get some real food.”

“Didn’t you hear Cash? He said not to go anywhere.”

I shrugged. “He can tell me to my face instead of talking over me and acting like I’m not here.”

Jed scratched his ears. They poked out from under his auburn hair. I used to find it adorable. He’d been my probation officer for three years. When half the town stayed away from me because they thought I was a witch, he’d been my friend. Even before we knew we were both part of the Game. Now, he was irritating me as much as anyone.

“I’m coming with you,” he said, standing.

I slid him shifty eyes. “Suit yourself.”

I left the room, not caring that the goth girl from Astraia House followed me with her eyes the entire way.

Chapter 28

“It’s odd,” I said to Jed as we walked down a busy street, away from the Ludus and the Opera House. “Why wouldn’t Bruce want me at dinner when he’d insisted every other time?”

The summer evening stifled and the harbor water lapped nearby. The night was perfect for a walk, and many people must have agreed with me, the walkways were packed full of commuters heading home after a long day at work. Passing by shop windows, it was hard not to catch the Christmas decorations. So much had happened in the past month that time had run away from me. I turned from the windows, back to Jed.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “But you can’t tell for sure he’s behind the assassination attempts. You only know what Ava said to you. Don’t let your emotions rule your judgment.”

“Jed.” I stopped walking. I couldn’t help the derisive tone that bled into my voice. “It’s dinner with Epsilon House. They’re clearly working together.”

“I’m not so sure about that, but I agree with you about not wanting you at dinner. It’s out of character.”

“What do you think is his character?” I asked and continued to walk. I was unsure of the answer myself. Bruce had been determined to have me live with him and abide by his rules. It was the one thing he’d made a big deal about—keeping me close for my royal duties. “I mean, does he have a history in this world? Is he the basis of some human myth, just like Jacine and Marc? Do you know? I don’t.”

I shoved my hands in my pockets and walked in silence next to Jed, also lost in thought. Or, perhaps he left me to sort through my messed up mind on my own. There were still a few things irritating me.

Like Jacine for starters. The Goddess of Love with her mitts all over Cash.

“Do you know who I am?” I asked Jed, out of the blue.

“What do you mean?”

“You know, like I just said: Cash is Orion the Hunter, or the Archangel Michael… whatever you want to call him. Ava is some warrior princess from Ursa constellation. Even Lincoln thinks he’s the God of War. Anyway, that’s what I’m talking about. Most people know they’re from a certain part of the Empire. They stick together in Houses. You have a map. I’ve never seen it, but I’m assuming you have one.” He nodded in the affirmative. “Right, so everyone has a map. But not me. Cash said he knows who I truly am but he won’t tell me. Marc has to do it.”

“He’s right. Don’t listen to the myths, Roo. Despite what you think, or what you’ve been told, it’s all conjecture. The Gamekeeper is the only one who knows for sure who any of us might be. And he doesn’t tell. For all we know, the myths were made up by him in a drunken haze.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“All I know is we can’t remember the truth. We don’t all have the power to search our memories or past lives like Cash.”

His words struck me and I halted. Ava was right.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“We can’t remember,” I said.

“That’s what I said.”

“But what if we could remember?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t understand.”

“I’ve been going about this all wrong. I thought I’d find the answers at the depository, but all I need to do is reach back into my own mind. I need to see the librarian.”

“Sorry. Still don’t get it.”

I shook him by the shoulders, grinning. “I have the Book of the Dead inside me. When I absorbed Petra’s grimoire, it tried to self-destruct, but it’s still there, and it has answers.”

“Where are we headed?” Jed asked, changing the subject. “There’s a nice restaurant at the end of the gardens.”

It was then I noticed we’d wandered away from the Opera House and into Royal Botanical Gardens. The life-force of nature infused me with warmth. I sighed and smiled, head tilted to the night sky. Those fake windows in the Ludus were marvelous, but they were no match for the real thing. I missed this fresh air, the buzzing electricity of nature. Ever since I discovered I could sense the auras, I found I could also feel life emanating from everything around me. Like that little pot plant at Cash’s apartment. Here it was magnified. The trees, the ants, the animals. It was all connected.

I thought of Wren. She spoke to animals, but her mentor wanted her below ground, working with the rest of Cetus in the depository. I frowned. The more time I spent here, following their rules, the more I had the urge to break them. To free everyone. If only I had the power.

My stomach clenched into knots, hungry, reminding me of Jed’s question about restaurant choice. I was about to reply when I saw a familiar person sitting on a park bench under the bright light of a lamp.

A despondent Marc mumbled to himself as he twirled something in his fingers. It looked like a tiny vial of something. He wore Cricket whites, zinc on his lower lip and a baggy green cap on his head. I’d recognize that potent aura anywhere.

“Marc?” I said tentatively, stepping closer.

“Love?” His sorrowful eyes cleared when they noticed me. His fingers closed over the item in his hands, hiding it from view. “You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice.”

I didn’t care that Jed was with me that he would see my affection for the one person off limits to Players. I rushed to sit next to Marc and hugged him tight. “I missed you.”

“And I, you, love.”

His large hands tightened around me. I buried my face into his neck, smelling the forest and life within him. It was a scent I always smelled on him. I waited for his usual innuendo, or butt grab. But he did none of it. He held me tight. Respectable.

Something was wrong. I pulled back.

“We’ve been waiting for you to come back. The trials have started,” I said.

“Without me?” Incredulous, he blinked. “They couldn’t bloody wait a couple of days?” Then he drooped. “Doesn’t matter, anyway.”

“You’re not your usual jovial self. Did you lose a game?”

“Game?” He looked wistfully over my shoulder. “The bloody Game.”

“Yes, Cricket. Did you play a game?”

He came to his senses and glanced at his attire. “Oh, this game. No, love, I only played a spot to cheer myself up. Cricket always lifts my spirits. I changed my face to match the captain and then made him fall asleep in the change room. Done it before without a hitch. Just not tonight.” He sighed and placed his palms on his eyes. “I lost it in front of them all. A test match. Thousands of Simons at the Sydney Cricket Ground. Recorded for them to play on their Tele-boxes. Too wrapped up in my misery, I was. Just couldn’t hold it. My face changed back.”

That wasn’t good. Usually it was his job to hide the mistakes of Players from the world. Who would hide his mistake?

“Maybe we can break into the studio, or something. Erase the tapes.” I placed a gentle palm on his arm. “Or maybe the camera wasn’t on you.”

He gripped my hand fiercely with his own. Sadness consumed him, from his eyes to his aura. I couldn’t protect myself, it leaked into myself. My heart ached.

“I can’t do it,” he said. “I tried. Walked here from the SCG, but as soon as I got this close, I couldn’t do it. Been sitting here, thinking, for hours.”

“Marc,” I breathed. “I’ll help you get the tapes. Jed, too. Just point me in the right direction. Better yet, take me there now.”

“You always were the pragmatic one, Sephie.”

“Who’s Sephie?” I asked.

He jerked as though being shot. His eyes widened and he let go of my hand. “I’m sorry, love. I can’t do it.”

And then he was gone.

Electrified silence filled the air while Jed and I stared, gobsmacked. Nothing left, but a crumpled up white Cricket suit. I used my index finger to lift the fabric. Real. He must have dressed in the actual captain’s uniform. Not an illusion.

Jed shrugged at my questioning glance. He had no clue, either.

I got to my feet and dusted myself off. “Probably a good idea we let Cash know Marc is back. Let’s get back to the Ludus, I think I saw a food truck at the start of the park.”

Chapter 29

I woke in the morning to an empty bed, room and apartment. No sign of Cash anywhere. The separation anxiety that took root in my heart squeezed and suffocated until I had difficulty breathing. He wasn’t here.

He hadn’t come home.

He left you again, my passengers said.

I got out of bed and checked my phone which had been charging in the kitchen.

One message. From Cash:

* * *

—Running late. Don’t wait up.

* * *

That was it.

Running late.

I didn’t know whether to be happy or annoyed. He’d contacted me, but barely. I settled on annoyed because I needed him. Marc had come home, and I had no one to talk to about his weirdness. I shot a quick text back, telling Cash I wanted to speak with him. Minutes passed with me staring at the blank screen on my phone, waiting.

A quick shake and I snapped out of it. If Kitty could see me now.

Guilt speared me at the thought of my best friend. There were a mountain of unanswered texts from her on my phone. The urge to speak with her overwhelmed me. Having dated half the town, she had uncanny insights into the minds of men. She might be able to help talk me down off my ledge. The last time we spoke was when I landed in Sydney, but that was days ago, and even then it had been a five-minute call because I couldn’t exactly confide in the true nature of my life. She knew I was special, but not gods-playing-on-earth special.

First rule of Game club, don’t reveal your supernatural status to humans.

They were my friends. But they were human.

The sooner I got these souls out of me, the sooner I finished the trials, and returned to my normal life back in Margaret River, working a monotonous job at a touristy bar. Sounded like a dream.

If Kitty were here, she’d say, “Babe. You gotta take the wins where you can get them.”

It was almost over. As long as the Tribunal didn’t rule against my interruption of Lincoln’s trial, I had one trial left. Then freedom.

I shelved my angst and got dressed into some clothes. My wardrobe ran thin. Just another reason I needed to get back to work at The Cauldron. Whether it was the old motocross bike I bought from saved tips, or the perfume that smelled like freedom. I worked hard for my things, and I was proud of it. The stretch jersey dress I pulled out of my suitcase had seen better days, but I paid for it. The hem had a runner in it, and the thin straps had lost a bit of elasticity, leaving me to gather them and tie them into a racer-back style with a ribbon. You’d only noticed those things if you looked closely.

I checked myself in the small bathroom mirror. Not too shabby.

The beige cotton clung to my torso, accentuating my curves, and then hung loose to my ankles. The color blended with my tanned skin. I looked good. Too bad Cash wasn’t here to see me.

There must be an emergency. That’s why he took so long. The Tribunal hearing went over time.

Or perhaps Jacine wants him for something else?

“No. Cash isn’t like that.”

You’ve only known him for a few weeks. What makes you think you know him?

“I know him plenty.”

You know how he likes to wash you in the shower, but do you know what he thinks? What he truly desires? Has he told you?

“He wants me. I know he does.”

Or does he simply want someone not the queen?

“Shut up!” I yelled at my reflection, heart skipping wildly.

When my bright, fiery eyes blinked back at me, I realized I’d been talking to myself. I grabbed a brush off the bench and yanked it through my tangled red hair, the bane of my existence. The color stood out like a sore thumb.

Red hair.

My gaze narrowed on the strands.

That’s when all this nonsense started, when my hair had changed. I’d showered one day and took the towel off to discover my hair had inexplicably turned red. Tommy had said I looked like a fox on poke berry day, or something like that. Oh wait, it was redder than a fox’s ass on poke berry day.

A lethargic breath consumed me. My heart grew heavy, and I ached to be with Cash wherever he was.

You should’ve known this would happen, The Others taunted me. One night was all it took for you to fall hook, line and sinker, and one night was all it took for him to fall back into old patterns.

Gone.

Again.

“Shut up,” I screamed and threw the brush at the glass. It bounced off and clattered onto the counter. In the deafening silence that followed, I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. Time to take control back. I didn’t need Cash with me. I could do it on my own. With concentration and willpower, I glared at my hair in the mirror.

Brown.

Turn brown.

I urged my hair to change appearance, just the way I did when putting up a disguise. Start small. Think big.

I owned this. I controlled this. It was my body.

Turn brown.

Tingles and prickles broke over my scalp in a wave, and the color bled from red to auburn, to light brown.

I smiled, elation lifting my chin.

Take that, Others.

Now the trick was to keep it that way.

Brown, brown, brown. My new mantra.

With a hop, skip and a jump, I flicked my hair dramatically over my shoulders and entered the main room. Brown. My hair is brown. I kept repeating the words until my eyes snagged on the little pot plant still on the dining table. I watered it, then returned it to the coffee table near the couch. When I leant down to place the pot on the surface, my foot kicked something under the table. I bent down to have a look.

It was the book Wren found at the depository, the one Cash had taken from her arms. I pulled it out and dusted the top of the leather jacket. It was heavy and about the length of my forearm. When I opened it, the first page had the oroboros symbol etched on… but this one was slightly different. This one had two snakes entwining before eating their own tails. One snake symbolized ones eternal soul. So two snakes, perhaps infinity linked together. My finger traced the outline of each circle. Soulmates. Written by someone who’s name started with S. The rest of the inscription had been smudged and stained by water, as had much of the book. Time hadn’t been good to the pages.

I flipped the pages carefully, reading with unbridled curiosity. Much of the book was about using blood to link souls. Nothing much new. I already guessed that through my abilities. There was more in the book, mostly equations I couldn’t understand, but what I found most interesting, was the reference to The Book of the Dead. The same soul-scientist who’d written this book had also written that one.

The S person.

In the park, Marc called me by a name that had started with S.

I shut the book. I had to know. All the secrets could be locked away in my memories. I left the apartment, ignoring the queasy roll in my gut. People in control didn’t second guess themselves. People in control had the power to never be alone again.

* * *

I went to the entrance to the Ludus and forced the timid admin guy to show me where I could find the librarian on a map. Then I went there.

I did not have breakfast, did not collect two-hundred dollars, and did not pass go. I went directly to the librarian where I was ready to gamble my way out of my predicament.

A girl stood outside the nondescript opaque door, arms folded, chewing her nails. She looked up, and I recognized her—goth girl. I should probably ask about her name. Goth girl was getting tired.

“Hi,” I said as I approached. “I’ve seen you around, but I’m afraid I’ve not worked up the courage to ask you your name until now.”

She lifted her gaze, surprised. “You talking to me?”

“Yeah, I’m talking to you. I’m Roo. What’s your name?”

She bit the nail on her thumb, assessing me, as though I were a complicated math problem.

“You don’t have to tell me. I just thought—”

“You want to stop calling me goth girl.”

I laughed. “Precog, right?”

She nodded.

“How does it work? Can you, like, see the lotto numbers before they’re drawn?”

“No. Well, maybe. I haven’t tried, and I can’t control what I see.”

I frowned. “But you see a lot about me, right?”

She half-heartedly lifted a shoulder.

“Let me guess, you’re not allowed to tell me, right?”

Her tiny chest lifted in a sigh. “Yeah. I mean no. I don’t know what…” Her voice trailed off and her cheeks flushed pink.

“It’s okay. It must be a tough gig. I get it. Believe me.”

One side of her lips curled up. “Thanks. Listen, I have to go but, ah, yeah, thanks for introducing yourself. My name is Victoria.”

“Please to meet you Victoria. I hope we can catch up again.”

Her head cocked to the side. “Really?”

“Of course. Maybe in the cafeteria one day, okay? Or better yet, the food van topside has amazing tacos. We should totally go there one night.”

“Sure.” She lingered in front of me, staring. It was as though she wanted to say something but she bit her thumbnail again. “Bye.”

“See ya.”

She turned and took a few steps, then faced me again. “I really like your hair that color. Whatever you do, don’t change it.”

“I like it too. Thanks.” I waved as she walked away.

Weird.

I pulled my hair in front of my face. Brown. Good.

The waiting room I entered was quiet. A row of plastic, uncomfortable chairs lined one of the gray walls. On the other side was an unmanned desk behind a long counter. Posters of kittens being cute hung on the wall behind the desk. There were also other hand made signs taped up such as “Shh. Quiet, Please. Librarian at Work.”.

Nobody here.

I twiddled my thumbs for a minute and then noticed a small reception bell so hit it. Loud ringing echoed in the silence.

“Can I help you?” A small woman with short hair and red-framed glasses came out of a door behind the reception area.

“Hello, I’d like to see the librarian.”

The woman lowered her glasses to the nib of her nose and inspected me.

“Naturally. Have you been here before?”

“No, first time.”

She pushed her glasses back up. She licked her finger and singled out a few pieces of paper from a large stack on her desk. “Please fill out this form”—she laid one on the counter—“and this form”—she laid another—“and this one.”

After searching the desk, she found a pen and slapped it on the bench. She looked at me with thoughtful eyes.

“Sweetheart, don’t tell me you’re Nephilim.”

“Yes, is that a problem?”

She sighed loudly. “When will you kids learn? We can’t access your original memories. Even if I could, I wouldn’t. It’s against the rules. This service is mainly for Watchers who have lived for thousands of years and need help to access their internal archives.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I know that. I want to remember this life.”

“What could you possibly want to remember, coming out of the birth canal? I can tell you now, sweetheart, it’s not as exciting as others claim it to be. A lot of blood, goo and screaming.”

“I want to remember The Book of the Dead.”

“From your memory archive.”

“Yes.”

“This an earth-soul request. Not extraterrestrial.”

“That’s correct.”

She gave me that silent, thoughtful look again. Eventually, she pulled out another form, and placed it on the laminate counter. “You’ll need to sign this waiver. Block letters, please.”

“Waiver?” I picked up the paper and read it.

“Honey, this procedure is for Seraphim. If your inferior brain packs it in, we accept no responsibility. The form is so that your House mentor doesn’t come looking for blood if you turn into a vegetable.”

“A vegetable?” I gulped.

“Or worse. Ring the bell when you’re done.”

The beads around her neck clicked as she left.

I gathered the papers and moved to a wobbly chair. The small coffee table in front of me had various books and other magazines with curled up corners. One of them would be good to lean on. I sat staring at the forms for a while, hesitating. Vegetable. She’d said vegetable.

Inside me, The Others stirred, waking up. Not so afraid of me anymore. Gritty fingernails down a blackboard. What if this procedure didn’t just access their information, but gave them full access to my brain?

I pulled a strand of hair in front of my face. Still brown. Still in control. I could do this.

Chapter 30

Once I’d filled out my forms, the librarian took me through the door behind her counter. Similar to the registrar’s office, a reclining chair sat in the middle with computers and surgical equipment around the room. A little sink and faucet took up one side.

“Please, take a seat,” she said and perused my documents.

I shifted myself onto the chair, sliding so as not to disturb my dress, then sat there, hands in my lap, awkwardly waiting. More motivational posters with cats were on the wall. One cat clung to a tree, with the caption: “Hang in there, baby!”. Another had a puppy winking and pointing its paw, saying, “Who’s awesome? You’re awesome.”. I chuckled a little and felt the tension roll out of me.

As the librarian mouthed the words she read, her eyebrows lifted, and she made understanding noises. Fine lines wrinkled around her eyes. I looked closely. She was older than me, by at least a few decades. Unusual for Seraphim. Unless she wasn’t.

“I’m sorry if this is rude, but are you a Watcher?”

She didn’t break her gaze from the form. “No, I’m a Player, like you.”

“How did you get to fill this role?”

Now she looked up with questioning eyes. “I was born in Corvus and here I am.”

“Is there a librarian every generation? I guess, what I mean is, do you have a choice, or are you forced into this because of your skill?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t really have a choice. None of us from Corvus House do. But we keep coming. So I suppose when we get back to the Empire, we’re okay with it. We’re a people of helpers, so we like to go where we can help.”

“Huh.”

“Right,” the librarian said. “Let me get this straight. You have one, two—three!—souls inside you, correct?”

“Yes. Well, if you include my own, there’s four.”

“But two of them have joined to make a larger soul, and the other knows about The Book of the Dead, correct?”

“Yes. Sort of. The conjoined soul knew about it. The one on its own was pretty much The Book of the Dead in human form. Does that make sense?”

“And you think we can reach into its memories and pull out the data.”

“Bingo.”

She tapped her finger on her lips. “If this will work, you need to have a foothold into that”—she made a circle shape with her fingers, trying to come up with the appropriate word—“being, soul, no… what is it exactly?”

“The grimoire of a witch. A living breathing person who had their DNA encoded with the witch’s spells and memories.”

“Right. Of course. And you want information—a spell to be specific—on splitting souls.”

“Specifically how she fused two souls together. I want to split them apart.”

“Okay.” The woman tilted her head and looked at me weird, as though I were about to eat her head off. “Very well. Lie back. Let’s get started.”

I reclined on the chair, wiggled a bit, and settled in. On the ceiling there was another poster. Alvin and the Chipmunks.

A light touch on my temples made all my muscles tensed with anticipation.

“This might pinch a bit.”

“Oh—kay——! Son of a—” Pain pierced my temples and radiated into my being. White light burned my eyes, searing, flickering.

Holy mother of… were her fingers inside my head, actually pushing into my temples?

I gasped, gurgled, tried to swallow. Waves of nausea engulfed me.

“Relax, take a deep breath.”

A slow shaky breath in. The pain receded but didn’t end.

“And exhale.”

Slow shaky breath out. Still hurt. I gagged, but kept from throwing up.

“Now, tell me about the time you… ingested… The Book of the Dead.”

Images rammed into the forefront of my mind. It was suddenly a few weeks ago. I was stuck in the bottom of a pit. A cave behind me. Rocky walls in front of me. Above. A boy. Laughing. Taunting.

I swallowed. “He shot my friend in front of my face.”

“Who did?”

“The ancient boy. The grimoire.”

“Then what happened?”

“I lost my temper. I pulled him to me with my power. He fell and landed, crushed at my feet.”

The memory pierced me, and I squeezed my eyes, shaking my head. I didn’t want to relive it. Shame washed over me.

“Go on, Roo. What happened next?”

“He was dying, his life-force waning, and the voice inside me bade me to drink from him, to save the knowledge bleeding out.” I swallowed. “So I did. I took it all into me. Hieroglyphs appeared on my skin. But, something blocked my full understanding. A spell.”

“Good.” She moved her fingers, and pain erupted. “What have you learned? Anything from the book?”

“Schtt—” I tried to speak, but my tongue wouldn’t work. She eased off until the pain ebbed. I took a breath and continued. “I learned that you can trap a soul in a mirror.”

She moved some more. Pain. Oh God.

White hot pain.

“Relax. Just relax, Roo. Tell me more about what the book can do with souls.”

More images, tingles up my arms, my body sang through the pain. Floodgates of awareness opened. She broke the barrier holding the knowledge back. Suddenly, understanding pelted me so much it hurt to comprehend. “Magnets. Electricity and… water… conducts… I know. Glass. Energy. Blood. I know how to do it.” I panted, breathless. “I know everything.”

“Good.” She yanked her fingers from my head.

The sharp pain receded, only to be replaced by a dull, throbbing ache and nausea. I groaned and rubbed my temples, scowling at her fingers as she wrote notes on my form.

“Okay, sweetheart, now that we’re finished, there’s the small issue of your payment. Where shall I send the bill?”

“Ah… The what?”

She sighed. “Not you too. I’ve already had one walk out this month, I can’t afford another. We don’t run on fumes here you know. You have to pay me.”

Sweat prickled my forehead. Wow. That pain really worked its magic on me. Tiny tingles of fire danced behind my eyes. Soon, pain shot down my neck, feeding into my arms, my spine, my heart. “Can I write an I-O-U? Oh God this is really hurting. Is it supposed to be like this?”

The second I said it, pain cracked me in two. I dropped, lifeless to the chair and everything went black.

* * *

When I came to, I knew it hadn’t been long because the librarian stood over me, checking my vitals. Her glasses had fallen to dangle from a chain around her neck. Her red lipstick had smeared a little.

“Thank the gods you’re alive.”

Dull pain throbbed in my head with every minute movement I made. “Barely,” I croaked.

“I thought you died. You were so still. Your breathing had stopped. I checked your heart and… but you’re okay now, you’re okay.” She inhaled deeply, patting herself at the base of her neck. “You’re okay.”

I frowned. “I guess so.”

She cursed under her breath and banged things around the room as she put tools away. “I’m never doing a Nephilim again. I don’t care what the waiver says.”

The door burst open.

“Who are you?” she asked.

I sat up quickly and regretted it. My mind swirled. When I got my vision to hold still, the dark figure in the doorway came into focus. Cash.

His steely eyes landed on me, assessed, then moved to the librarian where they narrowed with malice.

“What did you do?” he said through clenched teeth.

The librarian shrunk back. I tried to sit forward, wincing as movement pounded my head, but swooned and flopped back.

“Leave her alone,” I croaked.

“Her?” He gaped at me. “I don’t care about her. I’m asking you. What the hell did you do?”

“It’s okay… I know now. I don’t need your help. You can carry on saving the world, or whatever it is you’ve been doing all night.”

His face contorted, jaw flexing. “I told you to wait. Why couldn’t you just wait?”

“Sorry to be the wet rag,” the librarian said, interrupting, and timidly waved her papers in between Cash and me. “Someone needs to pay.”

“Put it on my tab,” Cash growled and told her his room number. “Leave us before I make this about you.”

She scribbled down the number and left, closing the door behind us.

“That was uncalled for,” I said. “She was only doing her job.”

“Roo.” Cash made a frustrated sound and scrubbed his face. He paced the small space next to the chair. “You put yourself at risk.”

I read the onslaught of information in his eyes, his expression, his body language. I knew exactly what he thought. What he would say. That I didn’t know how to handle myself, that I didn’t know enough about this world, or this game, to make proper, informed decisions. Too naïve to be included in whatever he did all night because surely the Tribunal hadn’t taken that long.

Stupid, male, chauvinistic—gah!

Shut up Others! I screamed in my mind.

“Shut up,” I yelled to Cash. “You can’t tell me what to do all the time.”

“I’m not telling you… okay, I am, but there’s a good reason for it. How many times do I have to say to trust me before you believe it?”

“Trust you?” I gaped back at him, aghast. The Others laughed, relentlessly, taunting me. Why were they here? They should be weak with Cash. I held my head between my hands. “You expect me to trust you when you keep secrets from me, despite everything?”

“I left you a message.”

“Oh, you left me a message. You left four words, Cash, and you stayed out all night with her! Especially after spending an incredible night with me, you ditch me for some perky, perfect assed woman. What the hell was I supposed to think?”

“Jacine? This is about Jacine? You think that because she’s the Goddess of Love, she can keep me against my will?”

“What am I supposed to think?”

Her arms, her mouth, her tongue… all over him. I hit my head repeatedly. Shut up!

“You know I’m immune. She can’t sway me.”

I avoided his urgent eyes and glanced at the posters.

Hang in there.

I’m trying.

“What’s the real issue here, Roo, because no matter how hard I try, you keep pulling away.”

“I just needed to unblock the book.”

“The Book of the Dead?”

“Yes. I couldn’t sit around while Ava kept taunting me, saying I couldn’t control myself. Well, I can. And now I know everything. So problem solved. I made my hair brown.” My smile was short lived when I saw the horror rise on his face.

“Your hair is red, Roo.”

“What are you talking about?” I pulled a strand in front of my face. My vision blurred with tears. “No.”

“Why do you care about your hair color? Is it the Soul-Eater thing? You’re not one of them.”

“I know,” I said, all life leeching from my voice. “I’m the S-woman. The one who wrote the books. Sephie.”

He gripped my shoulders, fingers digging into me, shaking me. “Who told you that name?”

“See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. I’m not stupid. I may be a total newbie at this, but I’m not dumb.”

“I never said you were.”

“You’re hurting me.”

He let go. “Who told you?”

“Marc. Last night.”

“You saw him?”

I screamed in frustration. Despite my pounding head, I got off the chair and rounded on him, keeping it between us. “You expect me to trust you, but you can’t trust me with the truth. I can’t do this.” I shook my head, tears burning my eyes. “Not again.”

“Stop.” He moved around the chair, but I did too, evading him. “Everything I’ve done is for you.”

Fool you once… The Others said, their words forcing the pain threshold even higher. I cried out, clutching my head. I met Cash’s eyes. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice… then I’m the fool, right?”

He winced, as though I’d shot him with my words. His shoulders slumped, defeated. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew the truth.”

“So tell me!” I slammed my fists on the fake leather.

“I can’t because they’ll know!” he screamed back, palms landing next to mine on the chair, eyes inches from mine. “The Others.”

“That’s because it’s her, isn’t it? She’s the one. I’m her!”

I jolted back, holding my heart, a shot to the chest. Our friction charged the air, searing my skin. It all made sense. His unending loyalty and passion for me. From the beginning. Our souls when we touched. How it felt like I’d known him before, even though it was impossible. All of my skills—way more than a normal Nephilim had.

He straightened, watching me. So stupid. How could I be so ignorant?

I was her. The Queen. Who else would have the power to oust a warrior princess, to go unnoticed for years, to… I was going to be sick. I ran to the little sink and braced myself, breathing hard. He couldn’t trust telling me because of what was inside me. This was my future. My kryptonite. Always dragging me down. Always putting up walls.

They all lied to you, not the other way around.

“I can’t deal with this right now.” I palmed my eyes, rubbing them.

And then he was in front of me, pulling me into his strong arms, enveloping me in warmth. I stiffened, but didn’t resist. He braced my head and kissed the top, then ran his hands down my back. “Just a little longer, Roo. We’ll talk to Marc, he’ll explain everything. Hang in there.”

I laughed.

He thought I cried, but I—hang in there. The small sob turned into a full body, uncontrollable shake. I couldn’t help it. After everything.

“Are you laughing?” He held me at arm’s length, a crease etched between his brows.

He split his soul to get away from you. He must really hate you.

Tears ran from my eyes, streaming wet, hot lines down my cheeks. I laughed so hard, it hurt. I cackled like an insane woman until my stomach cramped. Until I couldn’t. “You hate me,” I said.

“No, that’s not true.”

“I don’t believe you. You killed yourself to get away from her.”

“It’s complicated. I died so that this world could survive and, Roo, are you okay?”

“My head hurts.” My humor fled. I could still hear laughing. So loud. In my head. Nausea returned, and I made a deflating sound, head dropping to hand. Tired. I felt so tired. “I have to get them out.”

“Who, get who out?”

“The Others,” I screeched. “They’re in my head.”

“Roo.” Cash’s voice went deathly soft. “Why are they talking when I’m here?”

My blood turned to ice.

“I… I can’t see straight. I need to—”

Pressure welled inside me so hard it tore through my veins. Agony ripped me in half. Something was wrong.

Not good.

Yes, good.

“Roo, what’s wrong?”

“Cash.” I grasped his arms, desperately searching for his eyes but… “I can’t see. What’s happening?”

He kept talking, but his voice muffled, warbled. It came to me from a distance. Where was he going?

And then I fell, slipping through his arms, down, down, away from myself until icy darkness embraced me. From a distance, voices continued. My body jostled about as I was laid on the chair. Finally, the pain receded until I felt nothing at all. Numb, I opened my eyes.

But I didn’t move them, someone else did.

Cash frowned. He spoke to me.

I spoke back.

But it wasn’t me moving my mouth.

It was them.

The Others.

Chapter 31

I was in hell.

Three kinds of hell.

First, I watched life from behind a closed door. I screamed for Cash to ignore the person speaking with my voice, for him to understand it wasn’t me telling him it was over. I begged him to see I would never say those hurtful things.

Second, I watched the distance grow between us as my body walked out of the librarian’s. He got fuzzy until I completely lost sight of his face plastered with betrayal. Then all the vision through my eyes became dull as if I wore frosted glasses. Everywhere my body looked, it was hazy. Only Cash had been clear.

Third, the guilt. I did this. I destroyed everything with my stubbornness and my inability to trust. My inability to friggin’ wait! The third life in me, the one holding balance must have perished after the librarian treated me. She’d said she couldn’t find my pulse. That’s because I had died, and a life was sacrificed. I should never have gone there on my own. It was reckless, stupid and unforgivable.

My life was a movie played through a dirty shower screen, and I was powerless to change the events unfolding before me.

Cash didn’t trust me because of The Others.

Now, I was the other.

And Leila, my sister, now she drove up front with Petra. If I could somehow get her to work with me, to fight against the hold of Petra…

No use. It was no use.

The shame of everything consumed me. Lies brought me here. I should’ve confided in Cash as soon as I knew about the passengers and worked on a solution to get them out. Together.

I hurled myself against the metaphysical boundaries of my mind, battering, screaming. No matter how hard I tried, nothing budged except the vast emptiness between me and the outside world.

When my body arrived at the Urser apartments, I went straight in. I didn’t knock, or call out. My hand turned the doorknob and walked in.

Squid stood guarding the entrance inside. He let me pass without a word on my way to the dining table where Bruce sat with Ava and the Epsilon Mentor. Upon entry, Bruce stood, surveying me with a careful eye.

“It is done.” A foreign voice came out of my mouth.

A slow smile curled one side of my father’s face. It was the first real smile I’d ever seen on him and, for that, I was glad. It transformed his placid features into pure evil.

“Excellent. Good job.”

“Yes.” Ava fist pumped the air like a teenager. Her mentor shot her a derisive glance, and she toned it down.

Pure animosity burned inside me, igniting my rage. She had baited me into going to the librarian, I was sure of it.

Who do you think told us to do it? Ava’s words rang true in my mind. You can’t even control your power. Half of it is locked away inside you.

She was in on it, all along.

“Did everything go smoothly?” Bruce’s voice swam through the haze and had to focus to hear and see him.

“The hunter turned up.”

My father stiffened. “And?”

“He’s dealt with. He’s still among the living, but he’s been discouraged to come after me.”

“What do you mean?” Bruce asked.

“I told him the relationship was over.”

“He’ll come for her. He’ll know something is wrong,” Ava said.

“Then I’ll make no room for doubt.”

“Don’t,” my father said. “You tried that once before and almost revealed everything. We’re close. We can’t risk discovery until we have what we seek.”

No room for doubt? Tried it once before?

It dawned on me. That first night I stayed at the Ludus, The Others took over and partied with Lincoln. They’d flirted with Drew then flaunted the fact in front of Cash to split us up. Drew even said I’d told him to seek me out so I could give him “a little something-something”. Cash had looked at me as though I’d stabbed him in the back.

The bastards had been trying to split me and Cash up from the start. Petra must have known we were stronger together.

My father strode to Squid. “Is the serum ready?”

“Yes. Reports out of America are good. Results are effective. We’re ready for the next phase of testing.”

My father rubbed his stubble. “No more trouble from the hunter’s camp?”

“No. He’s been too busy here to give them much direction.”

“Good. Soon he won’t be an issue at all. What about the Gamekeeper?”

“He’s often gone for months, years even,” Ava said.

“No.” My voice was hollow. “We saw him last night. He is back.”

Bruce perked up. “What happened?”

Unable to stop the words spilling out of my mouth, Petra relayed the contact I’d had with Marc.

A muscle near my father’s eye ticked. He paced the floor. “Are you sure he said that name?”

“I know what I heard,” I said.

“Sephie.” Amazement played on my father’s features and he caught a meaningful stare with the Epsilon Mentor. “What do you think, Pontius?”

He shrugged. “Sounds like nonsense. We could ask Octavia, though. She worked more closely with her back in the day.”

“Who’s Sephie?” Ava asked.

My father ignored her and turned to me. “You’re certain, the Gamekeeper said that name?”

“Yes.”

My father paused, eyes darting to and fro, working something out. “It can’t be,” he muttered. “But it makes sense.”

“Who is Sephie?” Ava’s voice rose an octave, demanding.

“The queen.” My voice betrayed me.

Ava gasped. “But that’s impossible. You must be wrong.”

I’m not the queen, I yelled from my prison.

I didn’t want to be. This woman ruined Cash’s life. She built this world, built the Game and made all the rules that messed with everything. On top of that, she’d neglected her son in favor of her new creations until the point he created evil incarnate to get her attention. She made Cash kill for her, and it hollowed him out, made him resent her enough to sacrifice his life. I shivered inside my dark cell. I didn’t want to be like that.

“When I was trapped inside this body,” Petra continued. “The hunter’s presence blurred my view of the world, but I caught bits and pieces. I thought nothing of it until her name was mentioned again. As you know, The Book tells of ways to irrevocably link souls through blood. The queen wrote the book. Seeing as the hunter is the queen’s soulmate, it’s not a far stretch to think she linked them somehow. My guess is that the Gamekeeper left to check whether the queen was alive, but to also take a sample of her blood. The hunter is dying, he needs it to survive.”

“What did the Gamekeeper find?” Bruce asked.

“That isn’t confirmed yet. But he had something in his hands. A vial.”

“I don’t understand,” Ava said. “How can her blood save him?”

“With a little help, it can be used to turn their bodies into Seraphim.”

A sharp laugh burst out of Bruce. “This is more than we’d hoped for. Our original plan hinged on this body having the Gamekeeper’s teleporting powers so we can travel to activate the star-gate from the Empire. But if we can find a perfect match to the queen’s bio-key—here—we can open the gate from Earth. After thousands of years, we can go home, and obliterate everything that bitch touched.”

Ava sneered. “You can turn her loved ones against her, just like you did in the beginning.”

Bruce glared at her. “We don’t speak about that aloud, Ava.”

Had he been behind the prince’s rebellion against his mother? The one who pulled the strings, creating those evil creatures that almost overran the planet? That must be what he meant. He turned her loved ones against her.

Cash. Marc. Kitty. All my loved ones in danger.

You touch a hair on their heads and I will end you, I screamed, hurling myself against my cage.

My body flinched and stumbled.

“Is everything okay?” my father asked.

“Fine,” Petra said. “She’s just a noisy passenger.”

Petra heard me when I screamed. That meant Leila could too.

Leila, don’t let her win. Stop her. Help me take control back.

My body doubled over, clutching the edge of the dining table.

“Petra, do you have control?” my father demanded.

“Yes,” I said, shaking my head. “She will run out of energy soon. Then she will be quiet.”

Leila. Leila. Please. Over and over I pleaded, watching the struggle in my body as Leila tried to take control. But it was short lived. I almost missed Leila’s whispered “I’m sorry” before the struggle was over and Petra stood my body tall.

“Is this going to be a problem?” Bruce asked, laser sharp focus on my face.

“No. I have had hundreds of years practice with possession. It’s a process, that is all. She won’t be lucid for long, and then she will feel nothing but vague moments passing her by.”

Possession?

As she said the word, darkness grew around me. She was right, I was tired. What was happening to me was a form of possession. With witches, they pushed the human soul out because there was no room for two. But with my Nephilim body, there was room for more.

The hour of battering against my confines had taken a toll. Exhausted. Keeping focused was an effort.

“No, not yet.” My father’s voice swam into my mind. What had I missed? “We need to get the vial off the Gamekeeper. Petra, well done. Very well done. When you complete your mission, you will have earned your place in our world.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“So, what now? We wait until the Gamekeeper reveals himself,” Ava suggested.

“We know their weakness and should use it against them. Fight now.” The words came out of my mouth.

“No. For now, go about your day without any attention. If we can get this finished without exposure until production is complete, then our jobs will be easier. Start the third trial tomorrow as usual. I will think on the next course of action and let you know.”

Those were the last words I heard before exhaustion won and darkness closed around me.

Chapter 32

When I came to, we were above ground in the Royal Botanical Garden. The same place I’d met Marc the night before… or had it been longer? Lincoln was there with arms folded, glaring at Drew and Crank with Lyra House a few feet away. Epsilon House contenders, Ava, Rus and Val stood next to me, muttering. The haze around my vision cleared a little, and I saw more people chatting in the warm weather, as though it were any other normal day. The midmorning sun broke through the trees to dapple faces with light amongst the shade. Nature called as though a living thing. Life and energy sang out of reach. I wept from my confines. I wanted to touch it, bring it into me, soak it up. But I couldn’t.

The second trial must be over, and this was the start of the third.

Who knew how long I had been out of it. Sometimes The Others had been quiet for days.

I watched Petra speak to people around us, quietly and briefly, pretending to be me. Sound came in and out of focus, some fuzzy and some clear. I couldn’t decipher what they said and tried to read lips. Not my forte. But Lincoln’s facial expression was wary as he watched me from the corner of his eye while he spoke with another. I wondered, how much did he know? I couldn’t lie and say it didn’t hurt to see him here, with them. But he hadn’t been at the meeting last night with my father and Ava. Perhaps they didn't trust him. Did that mean I could?

This was the first time I’d seen him since his trial, and there had been a remarkable change. His clothing was on the correct way, not inside out. That made me sad. No more rebelling against my father. He’d given up.

Something made a loud sound and everyone looked a certain way.

Jacine stood at the front of the crowd, speaking. Next to her, someone held up an enormous map of the local area.

“Alright, doves, it’s time for your final trial. Get through this and you will be freed into the Game after the Libertine Ball.”

A murmur of appreciation rose around me.

“Today, your task is to get across the harbor and all the way down to this point.” She pointed at a spot on the map. “This is our very own Race Around The World. You have a time limit, no money and nothing but your wits and skills to get you there. You slip and reveal your abilities, you’re done. Just like that, game over. Oh, and good luck getting public transport—it’s Christmas Day.”

It was the one day a year where shops shut down and public transport ran on a bare minimum. It was basically a ghost town out there, so if there were accidental slips of secret abilities, the Tribunal would clean up the mess and hide our presence from the world.

I scoured the crowd for Marc. Surely he’d be here. If my body got in front of him, surely he would know it wasn’t me driving this body. He could sense auras as well as me. He should know. But he was nowhere in sight.

No battering against my cage today. I conserved my energy hoping I’d have the strength to persuade Leila to work with me. She’d had a few moments where she’d been able to break apart from Petra and write me a note. My hope was she could do something now. I needed to warn my friends… I slumped. What friends? I’d alienated Cash. Marc was missing. I hadn’t spoken to Wren since the day she learnt I attacked her brother. My human friends were back in Margaret River, completely unaware of what was happening to me.

I was exactly where I was afraid I’d be, all because of my stupid pride. Alone, afraid, forgotten.

But I couldn’t give up. I wouldn’t. I’d find a way to get out of here. If Petra could do it, so could I. The Book of the Dead had been unblocked. I knew how to split her soul, to weaken her. I just had to bide my time until I could take control of my body back.

I searched for Cash. Not here. Why would he come when I’d told him it was over? But then my vision cleared, the people around me came into crystal focus. That tiny spark of hope flared to life again. He must be near.

“Roo, I’d like a word.” His voice, behind me.

My vision panned to Cash, tense and determined.

“I told you, I want nothing to do with you.” My voice was cold, flat.

“You heard her,” Ava said.

“Since when did you speak for her?” Cash countered.

“Since our Houses are aligned.”

“What she wants is irrelevant. I’m her mentor, and I need to speak with her before her last trial. Privately.”

Petra gave a quiet nod to Ava then turned my body to Cash. He placed a palm on my back and guided me to a spot a few feet away. At his touch, everything inside me surged, stronger, more alive, but Petra’s words coming out of my body cut like a knife: “Don’t touch me again.”

Before Cash’s hand dropped from my back, I caught the sharp flare of his nostrils and the twitch in his eye. He smelled something. His gaze bored through me, assessing. “Roo. Why are you doing this?”

“Because I can.”

“This isn’t you.”

“You haven’t been around long enough to know.”

Cash! I yelled from my prison. It’s me! I’m in here.

But he didn’t hear. He stood, arms folded, watching intently.

Leila, help me. I need to get a message to Cash.

My body flinched.

I pushed with all my energy. I tried to pilot my body myself, to make my lips move, to do anything to show him I was here, but Petra was too strong. All I achieved was a hiccup.

“I’m not backing down,” Cash said.

A frustrated growl came out of my body. She controlled my voice, my breathing, my face. I wanted that growl to come from me, but it was from her.

“What’s it going to take, then?” Petra continued. “You only understand pain, is that it? You need to see for your own eyes that I don’t care anymore?”

Petra stepped my body sharply to the right and grabbed the nearest person. She yanked him to my mouth and kissed him in front of Cash.

Stop!

I lashed out and my body trembled, confused. Then Petra pulled on the man’s energy, siphoning for strength against the clarity Cash brought me. My soulmate. I felt a foreign spark of life infuse Petra with strength and vibrate through our bones. She kept sucking, draining, but without blood, it was just a pick me up. And pick me up, it did. It connected with me. Woke me up.

The more energy she siphoned, the more I dragged into myself, away from her. She let go and shoved the dazed man away from us. He stumbled back, lifting his surprised gaze to catch with Cash over my shoulder.

When we turned, I expected to see heartbreak on Cash’s face, but he smiled darkly, and it turned my blood to ice. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why, because you’re jealous, because you want me all for yourself? I told you, I’m done with us. When is that going to get through your thick head?”

“Never, because you fucked up, Petra.”

I could’ve wept for joy at his words, jumping up and down in my metaphysical cage, but Petra stood back, shocked—caught out. Cash moved forward, his large, lean body imposing, looming. “You think I can’t tell the difference between your scent and hers, or the way you talk and even walk? I’ve known from the moment you woke up at the librarian’s.”

I saw my hands lift in front of my body, palms out, ready for attack.

“Careful, now, Petra. We’re not in the Ludus anymore. You attack me and I’m free to attack you back. And your powers don’t work on me.”

“You won’t hurt this body. Not while I have your precious cargo inside.”

“She’s survived cyanide poisoning, a bomb, being thrown into a pit and much more. I think she can take what I have to give.”

“If I die, her soul is the only one inside me to sacrifice.”

Cash paused, eyes assessing.

A hand slapped me on the shoulder. Bruce.

“What’s going on, here?”

“Your game is up, Bruce,” Cash warned. “Hand her over before things get messy.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. In case you haven’t noticed, the trial is about to begin. So, if you’ve finished doing what second rate mentors do, I’d like to speak with my daughter. Alone.” His fingers grasped my upper arm and tightened painfully. “Come with me.”

“I don’t think so.” Cash’s hand grasped my other shoulder and pulled.

My body got caught in a silent game of tug-of-war.

“Is there a problem here, doves?” Jacine walked up, hands behind her hips. “You’re making a scene. Whatever it is, wait until after the trial. Hunter, I’d like to speak with you.”

Cash’s steely gaze locked on us, but he let go. “After the trial.”

Bruce pulled my body across the garden to an isolated spot under a tree. He used his enormous bulk to block us from the rest of the gathering.

“What the hell was that?” he growled.

“He knows. He’s known from the start.”

Bruce’s lips flattened into a hard line. “Then we don’t have much time. Advance the plan to the next stage of testing. You know what to do. Call me when it’s done.” He glanced to his side. A few feet away, Lincoln spoke with one of the Epsilon boys. Bruce lowered his voice for our ears only. “If he causes trouble, get rid of him, and anyone else on the list.”

Shock radiated through me. The list. This was it… well, the start of it.

I felt my head nod and my face pull taut with a smile, but inside I seethed.

I would find a way to stop him. I had to. We were running out of time.

* * *

The trial began, and we walked in a group away from the gardens, back to the Sydney Harbor Bridge. Most contenders rushed off to find their way across town. A few flagged down stray cars, others used mind control… but there weren’t many cars around. The streets were empty this early in the morning, and the people I was with—Epsilon House and Lincoln—took their time.

Did they all intend to fail?

Ten minutes later and we’d crossed the bridge to the other side of the harbor. Instead of continuing toward the national park, we veered left, to the foot of the bridge where a large screaming mouth of a clown-like-face marked the entrance to Luna Park. When we approached the wide mouth entrance, my arm flew out, power burst from my hands and the gate broke under the pressure of telekinesis, clearing the way forward.

“Why are we going here,” Lincoln asked. “We’re running out of time. The way to the finish line is that way.”

Ava’s poker face angled his way. “Then go.”

Lincoln hesitated and looked at me for guidance. “Roo. Come on. Let’s leave these idiots.”

But my body didn’t move, didn’t make a sound.

Lincoln’s focus narrowed on my eyes. “It’s not Roo, is it?”

“Clever boy.” The words fell out of my mouth.

Tension filled the air between us, and then Lincoln shook his head. “Fine. Do what you want. I’m leaving.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible, little brother. You know my secret.” My body advanced on him. “You cannot be allowed to leave.”

“But, you’ll all fail the trial. You’re not all in the breeding program. You’ll have your game ended.”

Petra laughed. “Don’t you get it? Soon, there will be no Game to worry about.”

Epsilon House snickered. Each had found a spot of the bent metal fence to lean against, arms folded, waiting for the show to begin.

Run! I screamed. Run, Lincoln.

Chapter 33

Lincoln tried to run away, but Petra used my power to stop him. She enveloped his body with air and squeezed. He choked, gasping, body trapped.

“As much as I’d like to stay and play with you, time is of the essence. Boys, collect our friend. Ava, move ahead and secure a room.”

“I don’t take orders from you.” Ava folded her arms.

“If you want to live, you will.”

There must have been something in my eyes that affected Ava because she hesitated and eventually conceded. She jogged into the deserted amusement park decked out in primary colors, swirling red, blue and yellow. Stripes and swirls decorated everything.

“Where do you want him?” Rus said.

He and Val held Lincoln between them, like a stiff store mannequin.

My hand gestured toward the park where the open clown’s mouth marked the entry. We walked through the clown’s teeth and stopped to gain our bearings while waiting for Ava to return. The sun shone in our eyes, blinding us in the heat. To the left, a Ferris Wheel swayed and creaked in the wind. To the right, a carousel looked lonely with no children to ride it. Up ahead sat sideshow alley, frozen rides, and more empty attractions. The soundless, hot atmosphere was odd. A ghost town.

But private.

Perfect place for them to do whatever they planned to do.

“In here,” called Ava and took us to The Lighthouse Café. She’d busted the doors open and walked us to the vacant epicenter of the room. There were tables void of people, counters missing hotdogs and mustard, and air stuffy and thick.

“Put him over there.” Petra pointed to a corner of the room. “I might need him for energy.”

Poor Lincoln. Just like me, a prisoner. Unable to move his body, forced to watch from afar. Wait, what did she say? She might need him for energy?

Over my dead body.

The realization washed over me like a wave.

Maybe that’s what I needed—to die. To end up back in my body wherever that was. And Petra… she’d be easier to kill. Cash wouldn’t hold back if he knew I was out of here. A stone of resolve dropped in me. If that’s what it took, then that’s what I’d do. But the question was, could I do it without getting out of my metaphysical cage?

“Okay, what now?” Val asked.

“Now, we need cables and electricity. Split up, and look for wires, cords, anything we can attach to a point and conduct power through. Try the cash registers, computers, extension cords.”

“That’s a waste of time,” Ava argued. “We don’t need to tie him up, just cut him down.” She strode over to the kitchen counter and rifled around until she discovered a sharp range of kitchen knives. After selecting her favorite, she deftly rotated it in her hand.

“Do as you’re told.”

“My idea is better.”

“Ava. We don’t have time for this.” Power shot from my hands and knocked the knife from Ava’s grasp. It clattered to the counter.

Ava growled at me.

“Ava, the trial will be over soon, and people will notice we’re missing. We’ve only got one shot, and the Gamekeeper’s no ignorant Player.”

“I can take him.” Ava retrieved the knife and flipped. It sliced through the air, spinning, until it landed hilt first back in her palm.

“Cables and electricity are what we need. Do as you’re told.”

Ava glared at us, but the boys sprang into action. Reluctantly, Ava followed.

Electricity and cables. The notion tripped something in my memory.

When Cash trained me in how to hunt a witch, he’d pulled a feral witch out from the back of his car with a metal collar around her neck. The collar was attached to a car battery. The small electric current prevented her soul from leaving the host, thus trapping her inside, making her easier to kill. Petra would use the same technique on Marc.

“I found something,” Val said, walking up with a lasso of cables in his hands.

“That will do. Set it up and stand to the side of the door.”

“And what am I supposed to do?”

My head swiveled toward Ava. “You think you’re good enough to fight a god? Then be the backup.”

An evil grin broke out on her face, turning the otherwise pretty features into something twisted and ugly. “And my ability? Can I use it?”

Her ability? I’d never seen it. Not at the trials, never. Whatever it was, she was busting to let it out.

“Only if we can’t secure him via the current. The General said you haven’t revealed your ability to the world yet. If you do it, your edge will be gone.”

“Spoil sport.” Ava pouted. She kicked a stray collection of cables to the side and moved to stand near the service counter, one blade tucked into the belt of her leather jeans, another in her hand.

“Are you ready?”

Ava nodded. Rus nodded and held up his cable, frayed copper exposed at the end. His brother did the same from the opposite side of the doorframe. Lincoln, poor Lincoln, did nothing from the far corner of the room.

Petra moved my body to stand in front of the open door, so we looked out into the laneway beyond.

“Egnatius,” she said. “Egnatius, I need you.”

Ava snorted from behind us. “That’s his true name?”

“Shh.” Val gave her daggers.

“Just saying, no wonder he went by Marc.”

“For fuck’s sake, Ava, shut-up.” Rus flexed the cable in his hand, hopping from side to side, agitated.

We waited in silence for a beat, watching the bright landscape outside from the shadows within.

Marc didn’t show.

But someone else did.

A black shadow blocked out the light in the doorway, casting the room into stormy darkness. The silhouette’s head cocked to the side. Our eyes took a moment to adjust from the change in brightness. The image in front of me came into clear focus.

* * *

Cash stood in the doorway to the café, checking the screen of a digital smart-tablet, as though he followed a tracking program. Perhaps it was the nanobots injected at registration—they’d be in all of us.

No! I screamed from my confines.

Whether he heard me, I didn’t know, but the moment his foot crossed the threshold, he dropped to one knee. He swung his tablet to the right, smashing it into Val’s gut. A follow-up left hook to the face sent Val soaring.

Cash spun to pop Rus twice in the nose and once in the throat. Rus crumpled to the ground.

Cash glared at me and stepped closer, never taking his eyes from mine.

No, I cried again. What about Ava?

Two-seconds later, the air behind Cash warped and Ava stepped out of nothing.

She teleported?

Ava’s fists torpedoed Cash in the lower back. When he swung to face her, she disappeared again, swallowed by air. Cash charged the empty spot and grasped nothing. He jerked to the side, grunted, as if hit by a force.

Ava hadn’t teleported; she became invisible.

He roared in frustration as his body propelled against the counter.

This was not good. If he couldn’t see, how could he fight?

A red ribbon sliced Cash’s shoulder with a cut. He winced and made to fight back, but reined in at the last moment. He glanced at me and then closed his eyes.

Look out! I pounded against my prison. What was he doing?

His chest rose and fell as he calmed and centered himself. His head cocked to the right, listening with his super senses, and then whipped to the left, following something unseen. He lashed out and caught something, but then lost it. Ava’s body blurred in and out of focus, a chameleon. He almost had her.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Cash crooned. He kept his eyes closed and stalked around the room, his body moving with grace and coiled power.

A glint near the kitchen.

Cash ducked to miss the knife sail over his head and embed in the wall behind him. A slither of hair floated to the floor. My heart leapt into my throat, but his concentration didn’t waver.

Petra leaned my body against a metal table. She was in no rush to assist Ava, and that worried me.

Cash paused and waited, lethal and ready to pounce.

Seconds later, he grabbed the air in to the side of him. Ava came into full view with his hand around her neck, squeezing, gasping, red in the face.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t end your game right now,” he growled.

Petra moved my body then. I thought she would attempt to rescue Ava, but she didn’t. She used the distraction to get to the fallen Epsilon boys. First, Val, with his shaved head. A syringe manifested in my hand. She must have had it hidden in our clothes. The black-filled needle disappeared into Val’s forearm, and then Rus’s. Movement rippled beneath the surface of their skin as though fish swam underneath.

Val tensed and contorted. He slapped a palm to his eye and twitched and groaned.

Rus seized and moaned, tugging his hair with both hands. “Get it out.”

Petra said something to them. Both sets of eyes were dark, black liquid, and confused. Petra spoke again until they focused on us, listening. Then they picked up their electrical cables and straightened with purpose.

Val exposed his new sharp teeth in a snarl. His eyes weren’t human anymore.

Cash’s gaze whipped to the boys. He shoved Ava, and she collapsed, gasping, hand fluttering to her throat.

“I smell witch,” Cash said, eyes wide, a crease etched between his brow.

Petra laughed. “Close. Try again.”

In slow motion, I watched Ava get to her feet, eyes trained on Cash. He didn’t see her hands wrap around a length of cable. He missed her snapping the length, testing it. She looped the cable over his head and yanked it across his neck.

Cash.

His thumbs came up between the cable and his skin, but it was no use. Ava pulled with all her might, determined to choke and strangle him.

My body walked toward him as Ava pulled him away. His legs struggled to retain a footing. His face reddened and his veins popped as he tried to breathe. Ava held him steady against her, open to me. I almost died when my hands, powerful and laden with energy, struck Cash’s jaw. His head whipped back at the neck, yet his eyes never left mine. In them, a collision of emotions—betrayal, desperation, anguish—all directed at me.

“Hunter of witches.” Petra backhanded him. “Who’s hunting who now?”

Cash stopped struggling and spit blood to the side, thumbs still caught between the cable and his neck. If Petra expected a response, he didn’t give it to her.

So she punched him in the stomach. A hollow grunt came out of him with the wind. She did it again.

My hands.

Hurting him.

“How does it feel, hunter?”

He glared daggers at me.

A cackle came from my mouth. “You’ll always wonder, won’t you? No matter what happens next, you’ll never be certain. How much of our time together was her, how much of it was me.”

Cash’s eyes widened as the horror hit him.

Stop it.

“Every time you kissed her, touched her, bedded her. Was it really her… or was it me?”

No.

She laughed again. This time, Ava joined in. The new monsters behind me snarled.

“You’ll never be able to stand her company again.”

You stupid cow! I screamed. Bitch! It was me. It was always me.

“You’re deluding yourself if you think you can connive your place into our world.” Cash’s raspy voice was almost too quiet to hear. “You’ll never be Seraphim. Even if you get there, they’ll see you for what you are, a cheap carbon copy.”

“Shut up!” I watched as Petra struck him again. Blood dripped from split skin over his puffy eye.

“Sore spot, Petra?”

She hit him again: In the stomach, in the chest, in the face. Pound after pound of fist into his body.

A noise at the door broke our focus.

“Alright, alright, Little Red. I know what you’re thinking.” Marc sauntered through into the café, oblivious to anything but his pride. He shielded his eyes as he peered into the shadow, trying to see into the dark room. “You called me here to tell me I can’t run from my problems. I’ve got to face them head on, yeah? I know, I know. There’s got to be a point in every god’s life where… what the bloody hell is going on here?”

Marc’s hands dropped from his face as he took in the scene: Ava held Cash as my fists pummeled into him, Lincoln still frozen, gasping for air, and two bodies from Epsilon House with darkness in their eyes.

Marc’s jaw dropped.

Then Rus and Val advanced on him with their cables extended.

“Now, wait just a minute.” Marc held his hand out. “Think twice before you leap. You attack me, and I end your game.”

But they didn’t change course. They moved toward him with dogged determination. Marc’s usual jovial face morphed into violence.

He waved toward Val, but shock flashed on Marc’s face. Something was supposed to happen and didn’t. “What the hell?”

Petra laughed. “Their souls are anchored in their bodies. You can’t separate them.”

“Then I’ll entangle them.”

“Too late.”

At either side, the two boys forced their live cables into Marc’s body. A mighty roar filled the air with the sizzle and crackle of electricity. He seized, fingers cramping, jaw clenching, hair smoking. He dropped to his knees with the same betrayal in his eyes that Cash had a moment ago.

Chapter 34

“Well, I’d say our experiment was a success.” Petra hooked my finger under Marc’s chin to tilt his head toward us. Electricity surged from Marc into my body, tingling. The cables kept him from teleporting, and the current blocked his ability to clothe himself in illusion. The only thing around his naked body was a cord at his neck with a small vial at the end. He’d toyed with it when I’d found him on the park bench, and Petra had told Urser about it. What was it?

Marc groaned, rolled his head and opened his piercing blue eyes. “Love, what’s going”—he narrowed his eyes. “Wait, you’re not Little Red.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Who are you, and what have you done to her?”

“Oh, she’s still in here somewhere.” My finger tapped my forehead. “Move him next to the hunter.”

Val and Rus dragged Marc to where Cash had been secured to a bar stool by the cord around his neck. He barely retained consciousness. Blood oozed from his wounds. They did the same to Marc, but fixed the live ends of the cables to his skin so the electricity constantly ran through him.

Ava stood to one side of the two, arms folded, pleased with herself. The two boys stood to the right, eyes black, vacant. I didn’t think Ava pieced together what had happened to her Epsilon companions. Sure, she knew they looked feral, had sharp teeth and black eyes, but she hadn’t worked out that she could be next. It was the same darkness that had been injected into the boy we rescued back in Houston. The substance that turned him into a homicidal, drug addicted maniac. Cash said that in his memories, he’d seen it before, back when he was the queen’s enforcer. The prince had stolen original sin and fused it with himself before he infected the first humans. Through his link, he could control them.

But these two had their wits about them and they didn’t leak blackness everywhere. They were less rabid, less feral. More compliant and receptive.

“You see,” Petra said. “We’ve always known she was special, but we didn’t come close did we?”

Marc tried to speak, but everything in him fought the electricity. It was all he could do to keep from passing out.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry, I can answer for both of us. You’ve been keeping secrets from us, Gamekeeper.”

This was a horrible, horrible nightmare.

I couldn’t watch. But I couldn’t close my eyes. They were her eyes now.

“First, we thought she was just a special Nephilim and that we would use her unique skill set to borrow the abilities we needed—to steal your soul, Gamekeeper—and move through the in-between to travel back to the Empire and open the star-gate there. I mean, she had a piece of your soul already, she could move with you, right? It could have worked.”

“Bitch,” Marc managed. “Filthy degenerate.”

“I’m more than that. I’ve discovered we don’t need you anymore. Not with that around your neck.”

“This?” Ava walked over and tugged on his necklace, ripping it free. The venom in Marc’s eyes could have poisoned her where she stood. One of the most powerful gods on earth could vaporize her with a thought. Instead, Ava was free to turn the vial around in her fingers, inspecting it. “What’s all the fuss about?”

“Give it to me,” Petra ordered, holding my palm out.

Ava narrowed her eyes at me. “Tell me what you’ve been keeping from me. First the boys, and now this. I’m starting to believe I’m not important in your little scheme. What’s stopping you using that serum on me?”

My teeth ground with Petra’s frustration. “Give it to me, and I’ll explain.”

“It’s to heal the hunter,” Marc blurted, through chattering teeth. “Give it to him, and I’ll take you to the Empire, Ava. I’ll give you anything you want.”

Ava glanced at Marc, confused. “Why would I need you to take me back to the Empire? If this plan works, then I can take myself back.”

“It’s a bit late for bribes, Gamekeeper,” Petra said. “There’s more to the vial, though, isn’t there, Egnatius.” Marc’s body entered into a fit. The true name-calling triggered bio-electric waves that surged through him, amplifying the wattage already pumping. When he finished, his eyes locked on mine, defeated.

A slight burning smell raked the air.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“Whose blood is it?”

Marc’s lips flattened closed.

“Oh you poor love sick puppies. Stop lying to protect her. I was there when you called her Sephie. I remember you ogling that vial, over and over again. Tell me what it’s for.”

Marc spat on the ground. “You’ll pay for this.”

“Give me the vial, Ava. You know you’re too important for the serum. We’d never inject you like those two.”

Ava threw it.

My hand snatched the vial out of the air and pulled the stopper off.

“Don’t touch it,” Marc growled, struggling against his restraints. Fire erupted at his fingertips, ready to throw our way.

“Restrain him, you dolts.”

The two Epsilon monsters took hold of Marc’s wrists. Marc screamed as bones crushed, and the flames died out.

My finger pressed onto the opening of the vial, tilted, and came away red. A resounding tingle shot from the tip of my finger up my forearm. Petra brought my finger to my mouth and licked. Everything inside me shivered and knocked about, charged with something, an echo of understanding. A whirring as memory tried to click in place. Whatever it was, it powered me. Not her me, but me me! Inside my confines, my energy swelled. But as quickly as it rocketed through me, it left.

Petra stumbled, eyes closed, and she sighed. “That was incredible. The power. Why do you have the blood?” Petra asked. Marc ignored her. A scream ripped from my throat. “You want me to force it out of you, is that it? Shall I start with him?” My finger pointed at Cash.

Marc turned away. “I already told you why I have it.”

“Are you forgetting, Gamekeeper? I can read auras like you. I can tell you’re lying.”

That was news to me. I thought the blood was for Cash.

“Fine. Have it your way.” Petra used telekinesis to bring multiple objects from the server bench and floated them toward Cash and Marc. Metal napkin holders, utensils, coffee machines, all levitated into the air, hovered, and then shot toward Cash’s body. With his thumbs still lodged under the cable around his neck, he was powerless to protect himself. Projectile after projectile collided with him. The dull sounds sickened me.

I screamed from my prison. I threw all my power and energy into that scream and pushed against my restraints, reaching for Cash.

My body doubled over, stumbled. Petra was tired.

Containing The Others had been tiring for me. And usually, when exhaustion overwhelmed me, The Others had been stronger. But this time, I was stronger. It wouldn’t be long now.

I knew The Book of the Dead. Apparently, I bloody well wrote it, and—I looked around—I had reflective surfaces, mirrors on the wall, and life-force was another form of electricity, and if that didn’t work, those cables were full of it. I could split her from Leila. Get her out. If I was truly the queen, then I needed to trust my instincts. And I needed that vial of blood. One taste had almost tipped me into knowing. Even now, my body cried out for it, but just thinking about it, a stronger, more powerful understanding squeezed my heart; Cash needed it more.

I glanced at Cash. He groaned and coughed, making a gurgling sound.

Don’t look at him. Don’t look at his broken and beaten body.

Don’t think about how long it would take him to heal without the queen’s blood. How he wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for me ignoring his instructions. But it wasn’t over yet. I needed help. Leila was driving up front with Petra. She was weaker than Petra, but every time I’d noticed a sign of my sister, it had been after The Others had taken my body for a spin, but before I’d regained control. Leila might be stronger when Petra was tired. Like now.

Fight.

Fight, damn it.

Leila, help me fight!

Chapter 35

Leila heard me.

Fight, Leila. Join with me and fight!

I threw myself at freedom. Reached for Cash, Marc, the living world beyond my cage.

Petra stumbled forward, a step closer to Cash. My connection to the living flared with his proximity. Pictures focused with sudden clarity.

Again.

Join with me!

Leila strained to connect with me, and I her. I could feel her soul through a veil. The closer we got, the more I distinguished Petra’s grittier aura next to her lighter soul, coating it with thick darkness. Leila pushed toward me. I pushed back. So close.

Again!

Petra stumbled and shuffled my body, losing control. Only a few feet in front of Cash.

“No!” she cried, taking hold of my head between my hands.

To the outside world, the one beyond my body, it all happened in a matter of seconds. But inside, it felt like an eternity. Petra and I battled with our wills. I was stronger closer to Cash, even more so with the help of my sister propelling me forward. But I couldn’t quite break the barrier holding me. Like a rubber sheet bowing when I touched it, I couldn’t get through.

Cash saw what was happening and lashed out with his foot, tripping me up. My body fell forward, hands shooting out to break my fall. I collided with his body—my soulmate. With our tactile contact, my hope bloomed, and it gave me the power to reach through the elastic barrier, to take control.

Momentarily, Petra and I occupied the same space. A beat in time as big as the universe. Something The Others said at the airport came back to me. I had been pining over my last few dollars and they’d snickered, Control is an illusion.

I didn’t believe that.

My name is Roo. My hair is brown.

I’m not an evil witch. I’m not a Soul-Eater. I’m not the friggin’ queen. I’m me!

“My name is Roo.” I ordered my hands to reach for a cable fixed into Marc. “My hair is brown!” I grasped and gave an almighty heave. The cable tore free. With one side gone, the other dislodged. Instantly, Marc dematerialized. I caught the flailing power cords and pressed both live-wires to myself, one on each thigh. Electricity ripped through me. Intense power quaked. My heart convulsed in my chest. Everything inside me seized, including the souls. I cleaved down the middle of them with my surging power, splitting them in two. But they were still there and Petra had already taken control of my body, she could do it again. I had to get them out. With immense effort, I ripped the cables from my thighs and collapsed in a heap. I smelled like barbecued pork.

For a minute, I thought Marc had left us, but he reappeared behind the two Epsilon boys and placed a hand around each neck. His aura amplified, stinging my eyes with its potency. Flames engulfed all of them, licking up their bodies with crackling heat. Then Marc lifted his gaze to mine, through the roaring fire, and then he simply wasn’t there anymore. Grains of disintegrated clothes and dust fell in a cascade to the floor. The boys were gone. All that was left was a pile of smoking ash where each of them had stood.

A movement to my side brought my attention around. Half expecting to see Ava, I crouched into attack mode, but it was Cash. Still tied to the chair by the neck, thumbs hooked behind the cord to save his breath. The rest of him was bruised and battered.

“Cash.” I grit my teeth and ordered my hands and legs to move. Petra still fought me for control, but I forced my legs to shuffle to his side, placed my heated fingers on the neck restraint and seared through it.

“I’m so sorry.” Tears burned my eyes as his heavy body tumbled into my arms. I held him tight, not sure what to do. Unable to sense his aura, I pushed my index finger under his jaw to look for a pulse. It was there. Barely.

“We need medical help,” I said.

Cash moved in my embrace, and a sound came from his throat. He was trying to say something.

“What is it? Are you okay?” My eyes stung. Please say yes.

“Lincoln,” he rasped.

“Oh shit.” I turned around to see Lincoln frozen in air.

I sent a mass of energy his way and broke through the barrier Petra had placed on him. He collapsed to the floor. Alive, breathing, but trembling with fear.

I held up my palms. “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you. It’s me, Roo.”

As the words came out of my mouth, I knew they weren’t true. The souls writhed and swirled inside me. We occupied the same space, and I held control through sheer will. I had to get them out, I had to be sure Petra couldn’t take over again.

Cash rolled to his side on the floor and moved into a fetal position. We needed help. His injuries were extensive. I couldn’t help him.

“Cash,” I whispered and placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get you help. As soon as Marc returns, I’ll get him to send for help.”

Cash moaned. His eyes were two puffy slits fluttering stubbornly, trying to stay open. “I’m okay.”

“You saved me, Cash. When you kicked Petra’s feet, we fell into you. Just touching you strengthened me. Don’t you see what that means? I love you, okay? You’re my soulmate. Don’t leave me.” I swept the hair from his forehead, leaving a smear in red. My throat closed up when his eyes closed. “Cash.” I patted his face. “Don’t leave. You said you wouldn’t leave.”

But his breath grew shallow. Short gasps between long lengths of time. Then he stilled. His eyes wouldn’t open. I pushed my fingers to his pulse. It beat sluggishly under my touch.

“Wake up.” I squeezed his shoulders, but he didn’t move. “Cash, wake up!”

My throat closed up. I couldn’t do this again. First Tommy, now Cash. I couldn’t lose him.

“Egnatius,” I screamed. “Get your butt back here!”

“No need to have a conniption, love. I’m already here.”

Marc walked in, dressed in his dapper suit and tie, the epitome of charm. No trace of the horror he’d just endured.

“He’s dying Marc, we need that blood. You said it would help him.”

Marc’s eyes fell sadly on Cash as he contemplated something. “It will help him, but I’m not sure if we should use it.”

“Why not?”

He stepped toward me and crouched to meet my eyes. “Because, love, it’s the last of your blood.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I arrived back at the Empire, you were all but wasted away.”

“Stop calling me her. I’m not her!”

He sighed and looked at Cash. “She had left her body locked away in her chambers. Nobody had broken inside, no food, no water—a husk on her bed. Frozen in beautiful despair. On her nightstand, there was a letter addressed to me. It was as though she knew I would be the only one who could enter. The Sephie of my dreams forever asleep.” His eyes darted back. He swallowed. “The vial was there, ready to go. But when I picked it up, something triggered a spell of some sort. Her body crumbled into dust. The blood must have been tethered to keep her body alive. It’s all we have left of her. So, it’s for you, love, not for him. It will turn you back into Seraphim, to be born immortal again.”

Damned woman, controlling my life from light-years away. I was sick and tired of being manipulated.

“I don’t want it.” I wiped the wetness from my eyes. “Give it to him.”

“You’re the queen, love. It must go to you.”

“No!” I screamed. “You’re not listening. If I really am this queen, you have to do as I say. Give it to him. I order you.” My finger flung to point at Cash. “He deserves it more than me.”

I slumped. Tired, so tired. Petra wasted my energy with needless displays of power. Then I used reserves to overcome her. Now… I was spent.

Marc sighed and straightened, looking around the room. “Where is the vial, anyway?”

“I thought you had it?”

Marc blinked at me.

“Ava’s got it.” Lincoln walked over, hesitant, wary eyes on me.

Icy fingers trailed down my spine.

Ava.

Slowly and with purpose, I lifted my weary bones and stood. “We need that vial. Marc. Send for Corvus House.”

“Already done, love. They’ll be here soon.”

I took one last look at my poor lover and traced my finger over his cheekbone, the only part of his face unwounded. Then I stuffed my emotions down, drained it from my body until pure, cold hard determination was all that was left. I closed my eyes and swept my senses outwards, searching for Ava’s aura, her unique energy signature. She couldn’t have gone far.

A spark of life to the north.

“Found her. She’s still in Luna Park.” I rushed to a display stand at the counter of the café and pulled out a park map. I opened it and faced in the direction I sensed her, trailing the imprint she left. Soon, I had her location narrowed down to a small area.

“There,” I said pointing to a spot. “Take me there.”

Chapter 36

Marc enveloped my hand in his and tugged me to his chest. His scent surrounded me: forest, nature, the wild. I shut my eyes. When I opened them, we were in another part of the amusement park, outdoors and under the hot sun.

And I was naked.

Shit.

Marc covered himself in an illusion-construct and then did the same to me. I gaped, watching the fabric form before my eyes. Within seconds, I wore the same clothes I did before—jeans and a singlet. Even my feet felt like they had shoes on them. Whoa. But then…

“Are you telling me you could’ve done this after every journey?” I hissed, thinking about all the times he’d taken me through the in-between and let me scurry to find a cover up.

His brow lifted coyly, and he shrugged.

“We’ll talk about this later.”

I surveyed our surroundings. In front of us was a giant warehouse with amusement attractions. Coney Island, the sign said. It housed the Wonky Walk, the Mirror Maze and Devil’s Drop. The door had been broken open.

I took a step then stumbled. A feeling swelled inside me, almost like nausea.

“Love, you okay?”

“It’s Petra.” I grunted. “Not near Cash, now. She’s making a play.”

With a worried look, he placed a palm on me. “You can do it. Fight her.”

I held on to him and forced her back down until it was just me again, leaving forward, bracing myself on my knees, breathing hard. “I’m good.”

We kept moving. Marc darted a glance to me every five seconds. I cringed as we stepped across the threshold to discover the perfect horror story backdrop inside.

“Looks like fun,” Marc said. “Ooh, dibs on taking a dip on that giant wiggly slide.”

“Marc, quiet,” I whispered and glared.

He made a zipping gesture at his mouth and winked.

If I had half the confidence he did, I’d be fine. As it was, I barely held it together.

Our footsteps echoed in the warehouse, against the wooden floorboards and large walls. I couldn’t tell the difference between the echo and my heartbeat. It drummed a rhythm that pounded loudly.

“That way,” Marc and I said in unison, both sensing Ava’s aura.

I pointed further into the warehouse where an oversized barrel lay on the side and open and dark to us. Normally, if the park was open, it would be rotating for people to walk through.

“In there,” I whispered.

We walked passed the vintage arcade games and approached the barrel with caution, stopping under the sign. Barrels of Fun. I almost snorted at the irony. She was in there alright, but we couldn’t see. Invisible, or sheltered by the shadow of the interior. But I felt her.

“Come out Ava. Give us the vial,” I called.

No answer.

I indicated with my head to the barrel, hoping Marc caught my drift. I wanted him to go around, catch her on the other side, but he blinked at me in surprise.

“You want to go for a ride? Now who’s being irresponsible.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Go around. Block her in.”

The second I said it, Ava’s energy propelled toward me.

On instinct, I threw up my hands and forced the air in front of me to solidify. She crashed against it, like a bird flying into a window. The impact jarred my arms, sliding my feet backward.

She became visible, slumped on the floor two feet in front of me. Spent, my legs weakened and collapsed under me. I couldn’t let Petra in. That was a lot of my energy in the shield. I fell to my knees.

Marc was there in an instant, slipping his hands under my arms.

“No, get the vial,” I said.

He moved to Ava’s lifeless form. She wasn’t dead. Her energy was strong. Marc nudged her with his foot. Then rotated her body until she was face up.

“Ah, there we go.” He plucked the cord from her neck and held it to inspect. “Good. Still in there.”

“Take it to Cash, now. Can you take it? Will it travel through the in-between?”

“It’s encased in an organic polymer container, made at the Empire. Yes, it will travel, but, love, it’s yours.”

I poured the full force of my fury into my voice. “Take it to him or I’ll never forgive you.”

Slowly, he nodded. “What about her?”

“Take it, Marc.” He reached for me, but I flinched away. “No. Leave me here. I have to get them out of me.” I pointed to the Mirror Maze. “I’m going to trap Petra in there.”

“Love, no.” He shook his head. “I can’t leave you here by yourself. You’re exhausted.”

Ava groaned on the floor, coming to.

Marc stepped toward her.

“She’s not going anywhere. Go! I got this.” To make my point, I held out my hands in her direction as if I were going to hold her with my power.

“I’ll be back.” With a frown my way, Marc dematerialized.

Instead of holding her at bay, I let what was left of my energy extend past my body until it made contact with hers, and then siphoned.

The rush of her essence electrified me, and I stumbled, eyes wide. It was like pouring iced water down a parched throat. My body and mind sighed as I rejoiced with replenished energy.

Ava grimaced. “What are you doing to me?”

I didn’t reply, but kept pulling, slowly, surely. Not too much. Just enough. Not too much, Roo.

Her grimace turned into a glare. A growl tore from her throat. Her hand reached behind her back and before I registered what happened, something pinched my middle.

I let go of her energy and glanced down.

A knife hilt protruded from my stomach. The one from the café. White hot pain seared through me. I twirled, hands hovering, hesitant over the hilt. What to do. Take it out? Would I heal fast enough? Thousands of thoughts battled in my mind. The surrounding scenery rotated. Barrels of fun.

In my periphery, Ava got to her feet.

The sight spurred me into action. My fingers closed around the hilt and I gave a sharp tug. Blood sprung from the wound like an oil slick, but not a geyser. Good. That’s good.

A force knocked me backwards. My body launched into the air, legs lifting in front, head tilting back. The ceiling flashed into view as I crash landed through a curtain and slid into a darkened room.

My lungs didn’t work, winded.

The Mirror Maze.

A flutter in my belly soared high. This was where I needed to be.

I scrambled to my feet, but was knocked sideways by a bulky shadow. I fell further into the maze. Fractured reflections of myself distorted my sense of direction. Fear squeezed my heart. Ava was in here, with me, but I couldn’t hone in on her aura. Her energy signature bounced off the surrounding glass, just like my reflection, pinging from mirror to mirror. Seizing my panic as an opportunity, I felt Petra batter my defenses, trying to rise to the surface. It took everything I had to keep her down.

My palms planted on the mirror in front of me and I glared into my eyes.

“You’re in control. You have brown hair. Brown.”

But strands of red spliced through.

“No!” I screamed. The glass trembled. The room shook. “Brown!”

A laugh echoed, bouncing off the mirrors. My heart galloped. My head spun to pinpoint Ava’s voice, but it reverberated everywhere.

“You think you’re special because you’re the queen?”

Another gasp, a hitch of my breath. I moved through a mirrored tunnel, shards of my reflection followed me, always following. A shadow of myself, watching, assessing. The eyes that looked back at me were large, liquid, terrified—and full of doubt.

“She created worlds and mastered souls. Before the king died, she razed civilizations with him. You can’t even control your hair color.”

The evil truth punched me in the stomach.

She was right. I was a poor imitation of the all-powerful queen. Like the surrounding reflections, there was no substance. Whatever killer instinct she had, I lacked. Where she was driven to build worlds, I preferred to drive a motorbike. But that’s what made me, me. I had to hold on to that.

“It won’t be long before people see you for what you really are.”

Tired. My limbs were heavy. My mind was heavy. My breath fogged the glass as my cheek hit the cold surface.

When I sensed her aura coming for me, I didn’t move. Let her come.

Her fingers slithered around my throat and her face came into being inches from mine. I faced her with my back against the mirror.

“You ruined your chance,” she said. “Even with your perfect lover, you fucked it up. He doesn’t want you anymore. He hated the queen.”

Pressure tightened around my throat as she squeezed.

But something she said got to me. It stuck in my mind.

Cash hated the queen.

But, he’d known my true identity since Houston, and he still wanted me. Me. That day in the cafe, he’d said: “For this person you are today, I’d do anything for you.” The new me. The one who had been molded by my time on this planet, by the friends I’d made and the hardships I’d faced. I didn’t have to be her. I still had a choice. I could do things my way.

My hand slapped over her wrist, but it was locked around my neck.

“Take your hand off me, Ava.”

She sneered, bringing her second hand to join her first and strangled. Her eyes glistened, psychopathically fascinated with my struggle for air. “Make me.”

Images swam across my mind of Cash training me on the mat. He’d drilled them into me, paranoid that he’d wake from another nightmare and attack. He wanted to protect me from his demons.

His voice swam into my head: You have ten-seconds before you lose consciousness. Ten-seconds before your trachea is damaged beyond repair. What are you going to do?

I let go of her wrist, then fashioned both my hands into pincers—my thumb and fingers making a hook, then explosively plucked her hands from my throat. I rotated, arched backwards, and pulled her into my knee.

The wind knocked out of her.

Good. I skipped back. She recovered and rushed me. I dodged and used her momentum to throw her against a mirror, breaking the glass.

The sound of glass shattering burst around us, tinkling. Light glittered, sparkling all around.

I hit her as she fell—my fists to her back. She slammed to the ground, face down. A gurgling sound came out of her as she tried to get up, but she was caught. Her aura skipped erratically. I stepped cautiously around for a better view. My throat closed up when I saw. Oh God. She’d landed on a shard of glass, right through her throat. I ripped my gaze away, squishing my eyes as a wave of nausea rolled over me.

Something made me look back. Mirrors. Reflections.

The Book.

It spoke to me. Symbols and hieroglyphs flashed behind my eyelids, reminding me of my quest.

Get the souls out.

They came into my body through blood, they could go out the same way.

I held my trembling hands in front of my face. It was the only way. Drain them out of me. I picked up two shards of glass and jammed them into each wrist, crying out in pain. Red ribbons of blood flowed freely, falling to my feet in a torrent, splashing the floor. My back hit another mirror.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on letting the souls inside me out. Leila through my right arm, free and swinging by my side. Petra on my left, palm pushed to the cold glass. I used the last of my energy to force her out, to keep her life-force focused. Slowly as I waned, I slid further to the floor. A bloody handprint smeared down the glass. There wasn’t much I could comprehend as the lights dimmed and dark spots crowded my vision. Not much except, one soul was free, the other trapped.

Where did that leave me?

Chapter 37

I woke in a strange room, in a strange bed. It was a very nice bed, mind you. The pillows and linen were soft, downy and heavenly. I rolled to my side and nestled into the duvet.

“Mm,” I murmured. “Feels like hugs.”

But it wasn’t hugs. I was alone.

A flash of Ava’s face as she lay dying hit me. Cash’s wounded face was next. I blinked and there it was, puffy eyes, swollen lips, cheekbone sliced. He’d looked so weak and fragile, all words I never thought I’d use to describe him. I opened my eyes and took a deep breath.

I surveyed the room. Opulent was an understatement. The hard surfaces were marble, gold, sparkly. The furnishings were brocade and velvety. Everything you’d expect in a mansion. I shot out of bed and picked up a weird, wooden owl ornament from the bedside table. Next to it was a horse ornament, possibly from Lincoln. Then my gaze hit the ceiling to take in the chandelier and decorative molding, then to a vase on another bedside surface. The intricately carved bed-head depicted ancient Grecian deities partying on Mount Olympus.

Where was I?

Not in Cash’s room. My heart skipped. He wasn’t here. Was he even okay?

“Morning sunshine.” Marc sauntered into the room, debonair and dashing as usual. “Good to see you awake in time for the ball. You lost a lot of blood and have been out of it for a few days. Had enough beauty sleep?”

My gaze narrowed on him. “Is Cash okay?”

“Yes. Your darling hunter is fit as a Seraphim fiddle, thanks to you.” I caught the flicker of something in his eyes and he averted his gaze. “Not that he deserves it.”

Part of me was relieved at Marc’s words. Cash was okay. But the rest. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” He lifted his brows and sat on the edge of the bed, patting the mattress to beckon me. “So, how are you feeling? I can see your hair’s not red anymore. Does that mean I can’t call you Little Red?”

“Call me whatever you want.” Just not the queen. “Where is Cash? Can I see him?”

“He’s busy doing hunterly things. Come, sit down. We need to talk.”

Any sentence that ended with those four words didn’t bode well.

“So, I guess you found me at the amusement park. Thank you.”

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 to 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 their 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 38

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 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 women 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?

Ire rose swiftly, and I pressed together my lips. How could I act the queen when I remembered nothing and denied everything? Ridiculous. It was my own fault, being blinded by the dress. Now I played the perfect god for Marc. I lifted my chin and pulled my chair out, sitting down. I longed for my friend, Kitty. So much better with public attention than me. Being a performer, she thrived on it. But me, the supposed queen of an empire, froze in the face of attention. The quicker the night was over, the better. Less chance of me disappointing anyone then. A glance at Cash’s empty seat only spurred that feeling on.

“Your Majesty,” Jacine began. She scrunched a napkin in her hands and opened her mouth to continue, but Marc held up his palm.

“Dinner first. Questions later.” He took off his mask and laid it on the table as a waiter arrived with a tray of steaming food. “I’m famished.”

So was I. Starving. If there wasn’t music playing, the entire ballroom would’ve heard my stomach growl. Unlike Marc and the rest of the table, I left my mask on. My mouth was clear of it anyway, and it felt like a wall of protection between me and the prying eyes around me. I shoveled most of the gourmet pasta creation into my mouth before I stopped to notice what it was. When the flavors hit my taste buds, I moaned in delight. It tasted like heaven.

Jacine had eventually sat down, but the tension in her shoulders said she was far from done. We ate, listening to the music which came from a live band in the far corner of the room. Some of them I remembered from Lyra House. But no Drew or Crank in sight.

We made it through two full courses before Jacine’s restraint crumbled and she spoke. “If I may, I think I speak for everyone present at this table when I say we are deeply honored and grateful that you have returned to us, Your Majesty.”

Her words insinuated those missing from the room and I cast yet another glance at Cash’s empty seat. “Thank you,” I said and fiddled with my mask.

“We are also happy to see you have made a full recovery. Before the announcements begin, I’d like to talk about what happened and Urser’s seru—”

“Not now Jacine,” Marc interrupted.

“Then when?” she snapped at him. “There’s always something else around here, and we’ve not been able to debrief properly or—” She stopped herself this time and looked at her hands. She took a deep breath before continuing. “Forgive us, but more has happened in the last few days than in a lifetime here. We are eager for answers and we are eager to go home. What happens next?”

Marc sighed. “We find out what Urser is doing, we learn more about this serum he created, and we confirm if the prince is really dead.”

“Right.” Jacine nodded, flicking a glance to me. “Yes, we can organize a special task-force and investigate first thing in the morning. What about the other question, when do we go home? I mean, after we sort out Urser I presume, but…” The hopeful look in her eyes was mirrored in her companions around the table.

“First, I shall address the room.” Marc stood and straightened his tux.

I was glad he knew what he was doing because I didn’t.

He strode to the center of the dance floor and made a gesture with his hand toward the band. Music died down and soon, voices muffled until the only sound came from the gentle hum of electricity the falling stars created. All eyes were on Marc.

He spoke, but his voice was too quiet to reach the edges of the room. He tapped his throat. “Is this thing on?” He cleared it and the next time he spoke, the volume amplified with his power.

“Ladies and gentlemen and distinguished Simons—ah, I mean humans. I have a special announcement to make. I see we all made it through the trials. No? What’s that—an empty seat? He didn’t make it? Shame. Oh, okay, there are a few empty seats. My bad. Well, anyway, congratulations to all of you who made it. Tremendous effort.” He clapped his hands and a round of applause from the room erupted. When the sound died down he continued. “There’s been an exciting development this year, and it’s my pleasure to inform you that this is the final group of Nephilim who will play the Game. Ever.”

Gasps and shocked sounds burst from people all around the room. Marc waved them down.

“I know, I know. Exhilarating, yeah? Once this round is played out, and your souls returned, we will also see to ending the banishment and bring the Watchers loyal to the Empire home.”

Another round of applause erupted, this time from all the Watchers present.

“Time to break out the champagne,” Marc said and was rewarded with the cheers of many.

A voice rose from the crowd. “What if we’re picked off early so the Watchers can get back to the Empire quicker?”

Marc’s hand lifted to shelter his eyes, and he squinted into the dark to locate the voice. “I’m sorry, who said that?

“My name is Jamieson.”

“Okay, Jamieson, what do you mean by that?”

Someone stood up at a table near the back. “Well, you just said, once we’ve finished playing the Game, you’ll take them home. What if the Watchers try to hasten their return to the Empire by picking us off early?”

“Is that any different from what you do to each other now?”

A hum of agreement rumbled over the crowd and a few more voices lifted to ask more questions. Jamieson sat down.

“Why? What’s brought this on?” another voice asked, then added hastily. “My name is Maggie, sir.”

Maggie. That name sounded familiar. Come to think of it, so did Jamieson.

“Questions, questions. This isn’t a game of bloody Jeopardy, people. It’s the Game of Gods! Anyone would have thought you lot aren’t grateful.” Marc snorted. Then his gaze flickered to me before moving back to scan the crowd. “Oh, and one more thing. If anyone touches a hair on the head of Laroux Urser”—he pointed at me—“I will personally hunt you down and entangle your atoms so you cease to exist. Capeesh? Pass it on.”

“Why is she so special?”

“Oh, a curious lot, aren’t you? Well, I suppose in for a penny, in for a pound. She’s the queen reincarnate. If she dies, so do you all. Protect her with your life.”

Chapter 39

After Marc’s declaration, I dropped my head into my palms. There goes my anonymity and my freedom. Another murmur washed over the room. The weight of a hundred eyes landed on me. My skin prickled with energy and my face went hot under the mask. Their auras palpated around me, speared my way, eager to touch. The air thickened, and I had trouble breathing, but damned if I let anyone see that. I lifted my gaze to Marc and scowled under the safety of my mask.

“Right. If that’s all then, the important thing to remember is that after millennia of banishment, Seraphim will finally get to go home. My advice to you is enjoy the rest of the evening. Have a dance, have a laugh, then go home and have screw. Enjoy the last ever Libertine Ball.”

People stood in their seats, cheering, clapping, looking at me with smiles splitting their faces. In their eyes, I gave them meaning, purpose. It was all so unwarranted and made me feel like a fraud.

Marc gestured for the band to start up again and for someone to dim the lights. Darkness dropped and soon, the only light came from the crackling stars above.

When he returned to his seat, Marc put his mask back on and turned to me. “You all right, love?”

“Why would she be? You put a bloody target on her back by revealing her to the world,” Jacine snapped, lifting her Swan mask to her forehead so she could clearly give him icy blue daggers.

“Bollocks. I’ve just clarified that if she dies, everyone dies. How is that hard to comprehend?” He said it so casually as though discussing the weather.

“They all think it’s me who’s letting them go home, but I didn’t do this,” I said, looking around me wildly.

“Yes, you did.”

“But I don’t remember.”

“Irrelevant. They never thought they’d go home. Your presence changes that. Now, nobody is getting up to dance. We must make a show of it, love. The quicker everyone gets back to normal, the better.”

I groaned and slipped a finger under my mask to wipe the sweat gathering. “Do I have to?”

He stood and offered his hand to me. “Yes. C’mon. Chop-chop. Up and at ‘em.”

But I couldn’t move, frozen to my seat, still dizzy and heady from the electrified energy in the room. People whispered excitedly around me, watching me. It filtered into their essence and fanned my cheeks with heat. Panic set root in my chest and squeezed.

“I’ll take her.”

Cash.

I stood up so fast I almost knocked the table over. Cutlery and glasses clinked from the impact. Graceful queen of everything stumbled like an awkward elephant.

My heart stuttered at the sight of him and I found my words escaped me.

Cash looked—different.

I couldn’t place my finger on it, and it wasn’t the decadent costume. He wore a black tuxedo with a simple black mask over his eyes. His short hair was impeccably groomed, and his stubble shaved clean. He filled out his tux as though it were a second skin. Lean lines tapered to complement the body underneath. But that wasn’t why he looked different. There was something about the way he held himself, the coloring in his face, and the slip of aura emanating from him now and then. New, more powerful, animalistic. Deadly. So many words came to mind when I caught his dark gaze on me. I didn’t know whether to run away or go to him.

Slowly, but surely, I reached out to take hold of his hand. My bottom lip trembled when we touched.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Marc’s hand still hovered in offering. He lowered it and, although his mask hid his face, he couldn’t hide his disappointment.

I gave Cash’s hand a quick squeeze and then rushed to the God of the In-Between. I tipped up on my toes and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you,” I whispered into his ears.

“Always, love. Now, go and have yourself a good time.” He patted me on the shoulder then turned to his companions at the table and made a joke about the lack of Ambrosia to spike the human alcohol.

When I turned back to Cash, my legs wobbled. He cut a handsome figure, and every woman within ten feet felt the same. Many sets of eyes looked him up and down with appreciation. Our hands came together. Cash led me to the center of the empty dance floor and we faced each other with the world around us dimming to the light of his magnificence.

“Just a second,” he said and jogged to the band to say something.

Stiff as a board, I waited, twisting my hands, not daring to glimpse the watching crowd.

The music stuttered and then started again. When he got back, he gathered me in his arms with a little half smile. Someone in the band clapped a beat, counting it out, and then the violins and double bass jumped in with a tune decidedly not classic. My heart leapt for joy and my gaze collided with Cash’s.

“Raspberry Beret?” I grinned. My discomfort melted away.

“He’s singing about his first love, right?” he said with intensity.

Had he been researching Prince, for me?

He suddenly shrugged as if it didn’t mean a thing, but his half-smile blew into a broad, knowing grin and we danced. I’d never seen him dance before, but he was confident, carefree and more Tommy than Cash. No, he wasn’t one or the other, he was everything. I laughed, overwhelmed by my emotions. So glad he came back. I wanted to kiss him, but there were too many eyes on us. Someone whooped, and cheered, I think it was Marc.

Cash’s smile dropped and a flicker of something passed in his eyes. He leaned in to whisper into my ear: “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up.”

I slowed dancing and slid a hand behind his neck. “It’s okay, I know you were busy becoming a super Seraphim or something.”

“No, it’s not okay. You gave me everything and the first thing I thought of was making Urser pay. And…” His voice trailed off. He shook his head and took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have left you to wake without me being there. After everything I said about never leaving you, I wasn’t there. I’m sorry.”

I searched his face for sign of injury, but there was none. Amazing. “Your wounds are gone. How are you feeling?”

“I feel… incredible. Invincible. And…” He checked our surroundings. Still only us on the dance floor. No one close. “I’ve changed.”

“How so?”

“I’m stronger, faster and I think it’s only the beginning. Still, I should’ve been with you and not traipsing around Sydney looking for your father.”

“I must admit, when you weren’t there I thought you believed Petra and doubted everything we shared.”

He brushed a finger up my arm and took hold of my hand at his neck. He gently pulled it away and brushed my knuckles against his lips, keeping his eyes locked on mine. “I never doubted it was you when we were together. She’s a witch. I sensed her the second she took over.”

Those memories flashed before my eyes, Ava’s struggling face among them. I had to look away from his intensity in case the tears burning my eyes escaped. I swallowed and took a brave breath, then met his eyes. “Thank you for coming for me, even though you almost died because of it.”

“Marc tells me there is nothing left of the queen’s blood. I want you to know that I’ll cooperate every way I can with Corvus House to bring your body back to Seraphim power.”

“I’m just happy you’re alive. I don’t care about the rest.”

“But I do. If we’re going to spend the rest of our life together, I want it to be a long one.”

The air caught in my throat. “What?”

He stopped dancing and lifted his mask to rest on top of his head. The action pushed his hair on end. Alone on the dance floor, all eyes were on us. Then he pulled a small box out of his pocket and got down on one knee. The music skipped to a halt. Then the only sound came from my breath, my beating heart and humming falling stars. He took a deep breath, paused, and opened the box to reveal a beautiful sparkling ring.

“Roo, La Roux, Sephie—” he cleared his throat and his ears went red. “We’ve been separated for thousands of years. We’ve disagreed, we’ve fought, I’ve died a thousand times over, but through it all, I found my way back to you. I love you and I don’t want to spend another minute apart. Will you do the honor of being my wife?”

My hand slapped over my mouth to stop the sob of happiness coming out. My throat closed up, and I had no words except… except… I frowned.

“Are you sure you don’t hate her?” Madly blinking tears from my eyes, holding my breath.

“We’re both new people. This is our chance to forge another path. Together. Say yes, Roo.”

Can a person really change that much?

The hope in his eyes and the butterflies in my stomach gave me my answer. I nodded. I nodded like my life depended on it. His mouth broke into a goofy grin that lit up his face. He pulled my hand to his and slipped the ring on. I didn’t even look at it. I was lost in his smile. When he stood, he slid my mask onto my forehead and lowered his lips to mine. I softened against him and he pulled me closer, deepening the kiss, not caring who was around us.

The room erupted with deafening cheers and the music played again.

People rushed the dance floor to congratulate us.

Marc and Jacine, Wren and Lincoln, Lena and Jesop, even Victoria the little goth girl came. Even that girl Maggie, and the other guy—Jamieson. Once again, all the names were so familiar.

Voices melded into one as did their potent auras. I blinked a few times, trying to keep the smile on my face as it dawned on me. The names on the list! We were all here. And then I noticed the look on Victoria’s face wasn’t happy as she tried to get my attention.

It was concern—urgent. Her body tried to break through the others.

I reached out to her. “What is it?”

“I saw something. Go.” Her eyes were wide and darted around the room, up in the air, to the double door entrance, to the single door back exit. “It will be everywhere.”

“What is?”

But then an unmistakable hissing sound came from the ceiling and a dark cloud oozed and sputtered out of the stars. The music faulted.

Victoria gasped. “It’s too late.”

We all looked up as a dark mist fell from the stars.

Cash’s nostrils flared, scenting. “It’s the serum.”

Adrenaline surged through me. “Everybody get out!” I screamed.

“It’s no use,” Victoria said. “It’s everywhere. In every pipe, in every emergency sprinkler through the entire Ludus.”

“Love, let’s go.” Marc materialized next to me and took my arm.

“No!” I yanked away, looking desperately at all the surrounding faces who, a minute ago, had congratulated me, were happy for me. When Marc announced they were going home, they’d turned to me like I was their savior. Now because of Bruce’s plans, they might never leave. “I can’t let him win.”

I threw up a shield of solid air above our heads and pumped all my energy into it. A clear wall pushed the blackness out in a puff, but I couldn’t reach further than the dance floor. Above us, the mist crawled along the hardened air, and dropped down the sides.

“I’m sorry,” I cried. “I can’t save everyone.”

People outside of my dome of protection grabbed their throats, frowning. Seconds later, the choking started, followed by rippling under their skin, something out of a horror movie. Like a possession with witches, their eyes bled to black. But it wasn’t witchcraft—or possession. It was something else. The same thing that happened to Val and Rus.

And then an epic rumble shook the Ludus foundations, and I almost dropped to my knees. Dust crumbled from the ceiling, hitting the shield.

Then someone touched my arm. Jacine. “Let me lend you my energy so you can protect us.”

Another hand touched me, and another. Soon, every piece of bare skin on my body was being touched. I almost burst into tears. They had faith in me.

Another explosion rocked the foundations of the Ludus and plaster crumbled from the ceiling. Pieces bounced off my shield and onto the struggling people outside of our reach. Those in my dome were safe and secure. I now had the energy to expand my shield, but those people outside… they were already monsters.

Cash glanced at the ceiling and cocked his head, focusing and frowning. A moment later his eyes widened. “It’s the Opera House above us.”

Another thunderous boom. More shaking. More plaster dust.

“They’re bringing it down,” Marc said, aghast.

“They wouldn’t do that with their new creations in here.” I indicated with my head to the people transforming around us. “Would they?”

The dark mist had faded and most had stopped struggling. Confused expressions washed over their faces, their dark eyes narrowed on themselves. Then, as though a whistle had been blown, some of them got up and headed to exit without a backward glance.

“They’re leaving!” Jacine exclaimed, pointing.

They took no notice of us under the dome and moved as though being called by the Pied Piper.

Victoria gripped my arm, sheer panic enlarging her pupils. “He’s coming.”

“Who?” Cash asked, although, I knew who she meant. My stomach cramped at the thought.

“Urser. He’s coming.”

“We have to go.” Cash gripped my arm. “Now.”

“But where?” I asked.

“There,” Victoria pointed. “The back entrance. He’s coming from the front.”

The mist had dispersed. The air was clean.

“Hold your breath and run for the exit,” I yelled and dropped the shield.

With so many of us bolting for that exit, it was almost a stampede. At least thirty of us were under the dome. Thirty people, maybe more, maybe less. That was all that was left of the Australian Ludus.

Chapter 40

Four Weeks Later

“Yes, bring him to the med-bay,” I called down to Cash at the bottom of the majestic stone steps beneath me. He had a refugee with him.

I stood at the top of the front of a castle (seriously, a castle) Jacine had offered as refuge for Nephilim and Seraphim. The cold Hungarian wind whipped hair around my face and I pulled my jacket around me.

From my vantage point on top of the steps, the refugee seemed safe enough. He looked rather like a lumberjack with a beard and flannelette shirt. Probably no signs of infection. But then again, we’d recently had a Player walk in without a trace of ink in his eyes only to have the darkness present later at a routine physical from Lena. Something about the light shining in his eyes triggered the metamorphosis. He attacked one of our medical volunteers who narrowly escaped with his life. If I hadn’t been close by, ready to purge the darkness from his blood, they’d have been toast for sure. The darkness was contagious through blood, saliva and sweat. Just like a virus, but I knew how to get rid of it.

Jesop had given the infected the term darklings due to the dark residue in their eyes, similar to that of witches. But they weren’t witches. Sure, they had the same dark roots, but they were mindless, with their stunted souls fused to their bodies. They only responded to their programed mission—to kill as many of us as they could.

I shivered again. First, my father had attacked the Sydney Ludus. Then, he’d destroyed the landmark that resided on top of it. After we’d escaped, we received word that the African, Asian and the South American Ludus’s had fallen, as had the historical landmarks covering them. The human world was in chaos. They thought the destruction was a concerted and well timed terrorist attack, but when no terrorist group came forward to claim the responsibility, they naturally accused witches. Of course the public face of witches everywhere, Eve and her cronies, vehemently denied it. It may have been true, perhaps she hadn’t been working with Bruce, but Marc had his doubts. His time with her in London recently hadn’t convinced him she was sincere. Seeing as Petra had invested in Bruce’s cause, we agreed.

During those dark moments, Marc had whizzed me around to the American and European Luduses in an attempt to extricate survivors and block anyone from being infected by the serum mist. Cash had been furious when I left without him, but in the end, he saw the sanity of it. I had the skills to block—even purge—the darkness, and travel through the in-between with Marc. He hated being helpless to assist.

Marc and I saved who we could and then joined Jacine and the rest of the Australian survivors here at her medieval castle. It had mildew in some walls, but it housed many of us. And refugees kept flooding in.

“Roo!” Cash called, snapping me out of my thoughts. He bounded up the steps to stand next to me, a pink flush on his nose and ears. “He’s probably fine.”

“Who?”

“The refugee.” He waved down the steps at the bearded man. “I picked him up in town picking a fight with a bartender old enough to be my grandfather.” He narrowed his eyes on me. “You look tired. Maybe you should see him tomorrow.”

“No, we had an incident the other day. I think I should check for traces of the serum, just to be sure.”

“An incident?” The concern lacing his eyes morphed into protective instinct. A shift happened before my eyes and the light mood he wore disappeared. He flexed his fists. “What happened?”

Since he’d become Seraphim, he slipped into that dark place more frequently than ever before. Something primal looked out from his eyes, ready to unleash.

I shrugged. “We handled it, but it made us realize we need to check everyone who enters the refuge, every time. Aura and blood scans. That includes you and Jed.”

He raised an indignant eyebrow until I explained what had happened. Then that fury came back. His gaze darted between my eyes as he struggled with a thought, then the fury left. He drew me in close with a smirk. “You can examine me any time, you know that, right? You don’t need to invent a reason.”

I snorted. “If only.”

His humor dropped. “Really?”

“Uh-huh. It happened. Ask Lena.”

He dipped his head to my shoulder. “When is it going to end?”

“We could run away, escape to some isolated island in the Pacific. Wait this all out.”

“When do we ever run from your father? Besides”—he flicked my nose with his finger—“I still want you to convert to Seraphim.”

I pursed my lips. “Yeah, about that. I just don’t think spending the time on my… how can I say this… elective surgery? Yeah, that’s what it is. It’s not appropriate considering Lena has her hands full with people who are suffering. It’s not only the infected, but the wounded. A man came in missing an arm the other day. His advanced healing twisted things inside and it was horrible.”

“Fine. Examine me.”

I patted his arm. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

He grinned at me from the side. “I hope not.”

There went my heart, leaping into my throat, trying to kick-start my stalled brain. That smile. Every damned time.

He growled and nuzzled into my neck. “I love it when you smell like that.”

Aroused, he meant. I took a moment to calm the heat in my cheeks.

“To be continued,” he said with a smirk as we noticed Jed waving up at us, teeth chattering from the cold.

I supposed they were ready to get into the warmth and eat after traveling from town. It was cold out here, frosty to be precise. The air hung heavy with the promise of snow.

“Coming.” I waved down and then linked my arm through Cash’s. “And to your other question, this won’t end until we end my father.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

The Game of Gods series concludes with a novel told from the point of view of Roo in Game Over

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Glossary

Curse:

When a witch casts a hex that cannot be reversed.

* * *

Darklings:

Beings (either human or Nephilim) who have been infected with a poison similar to Original Sin and have become rabid beasts.

* * *

The Empire:

The intergalactic group of constellations ruled over by the Queen.

* * *

Familiar:

A witch who hasn’t advanced to possessing human bodies yet, only animals

* * *

The Game:

Gods from another planet download their souls into half-human, half-god bodies (Nephilim or demi-gods) and race to see who can make the most positive change in the world, without revealing their abilities to humans before they die. When they die, their souls are returned to their godly bodies and the mysterious laws of the universe govern whether they’ve played the game well and receive a boost in evolution (new powers) or devolve (lose powers).

* * *

Gamekeeper:

A.k.a. Marc. True name is Egnatius. As the Gamekeeper he is responsible for keeping all Players and Watchers in line. Also known as the God of the In-between.

* * *

Hex:

When a witch uses her own DNA which has been loaded with a directive to alter the DNA of a victim. A hex can only be transferred by biological means. Usually sliver, blood or other body fluid.

* * *

House, Ursa:

The constellation where Bruce Urser originates. Also the Constellation where the king came from. This house has been known as a brutal war planet. It’s motto is: Victoria Aut Mors (Victory or Death). The bear is its emblem.

* * *

House, Epsilon:

Octavia and Pontius are the heads of House Epsilon. Their motto is: Non Loqui Sed Facere (No talk but action.)

* * *

House, Eridanus:

Led by Thurstan & Cato Eridanus. They have water powers and Cato has been likened to the god Poseidon. Their motto is: Semper Virilis (Always Virile.) Their emblem is flowing water.

* * *

House, Aldebaran:

The meat heads of the Ludus. Their motto is Citius, Altius, Fortius (Faster, higher, stronger). Their emblem is the bull. Most of this house have super strength.

* * *

House, Corvus:

Led by the blind healer Lena. Her progeny is Jesop, the alchemist. Their motto is Corvus Oculum Corvi Non Eruit (A crow will not pull out the eye of another crow). Their emblem is the crow. This house is dedicated to healing.

* * *

House, Cetus:

Mathieson is the head of Cetus. The motto is Scientia Potentia Est (Knowledge is Power). Their emblem is the Kraken. Most members of this house usually are very clever or have a way of knowing how things work.

* * *

House, Draco:

A little known House. Motto unknown. Leader is Zebedee. Emblem is a dragon. Most of this house has some sort of fire ability.

* * *

House, Lyra:

Lyra House has the motto: Astra Inclinant Sed Non Obligant (The stars incline us, they do not bind us). Most of Lyra house are Sirens.

* * *

House, Vernalis:

Leader of this House is Jacine (other wise known as Aphrodite). Their motto is: Amor Vincit Omnia (Love conquers all). Their emblem is two fish entwining.

* * *

In-Between:

The term used for the void Marc travels through when he teleports to another place. Sometimes time moves differently here and he can emerge having lost hours or days.

* * *

The Ludus:

The underground education facilities the gods use to educate trainees. It is also neutral territory so the Game isn’t actually played on site

* * *

Nephilim:

Half-human, half-god body for the sole purpose of inhabitation of a godly soul to play the Game on Earth.

* * *

Player:

An intergalactic god/Seraphim who has downloaded their soul into a Nephilim body for the purposes of playing the game on Earth. Players have no memory of their life beyond this planet, but they retain the memories of their time on Earth once they have returned to the Empire.

* * *

Star-Map:

The tattoo like marking present on all Player bodies that points to their godly soul’s point of origin in the cosmos.

* * *

Seraphim:

An immortal being from the other side of the galaxy.

* * *

Witch:

An evil, twisted spirit who can possess the body of a human, and pilot the body as they wish until they burn through the host and have to seek out another. Witches can manipulate cosmic energy, including understanding the frequencies the human body works with, making it easy for them to control the human body consciously the way our body works subconsciously. Witches can only possess female bodies.

* * *

Seraphim:

An immortal humanoid race with god-like abilities from the Empire.

Game Over

For my big sis, Di, who always asks herself, ‘What would Prince Do?’

Chapter 1

Winter in Hungary. The leaves had fallen, the Woodpeckers were drumming. Not snowing yet, but soon. To say it was cold was an understatement. A wooly cardigan, knitted scarf, and thermal underwear did not tame my tremors. I sighed wistfully as I stared through a frosty window into the garden of the Budapest castle. A fog cloud misted on the glass before me and I wiped it away with my squeaky hand then pressed my palm to the cold pane.

“Roo, I’ll strap him in, then you can examine him,” Cash said somewhere behind me, his deep voice rumbling through the stone room like thunder. My powerful fiancé, and now full-blooded god, was securing an errant Player to a half-reclined seat so I could test him for the dark serum.

But I didn’t turn around, not just yet. I kept my eyes on the pull of the outside world, so different to my coastal home back in Australia. The gothic castle I was in had a circular gravel driveway with a dolphin water feature the middle. Stone Gargoyles protected the front iron gates, wings spread, ready to fly. Inside the gates, manicured lawns spread until they rolled down a slope toward an immense forest screening us from the world.

Half the plants had lost their leaves, the other half were miraculously green and emitted a soft pulse of life-energy I felt with my sixth sense. Through the window pane, this buzz sounded a little like a swarm of bees. I sometimes thought of myself as a supernatural radio picking up the frequency of life. It called to me. All of it: Life. Despite the cold, I wanted to be out there—living. But instead, I was in here, hiding away, testing gods and demi-gods for the presence of the dark serum, pretending to be the brave queen they told me I was.

The examination room I was in had only one exit, making it good for containment purposes. So, for example, if the Player turned out to be infected then we could stop him before he ran rabid, wild and free into the general public causing all sorts of mischief. One word from Cash or myself, and Jed would activate the metal grate hanging precariously over the exit. I wasn’t entirely sure what that word would be—probably shit, or run—but the gate would drop, and any mess would be contained. Today, the grate was up, leaving the draft free to wander past Jed’s watchful eye and all the way through the holes in my knitted jacket. Brr.

It only felt like yesterday the world discovered witches were real, and now, I was still coming to terms with the fact that witches weren't the worst beings to influence life on this planet. Gods were here too, and I was one of them. It had been four weeks since we’d left the Sydney Ludus: the now destroyed training ground where gods had learned how to play their game of evolution. Two of those weeks were spent with Marc jumping through the in-between, checking each continental Ludus for survivors, purging the infected and sending the rest this way. The latter two weeks were spent here at this base, pretending to be someone I wasn’t while Cash ran off with Jed to hunt defectors and the infected—or darklings as our friend Jesop liked to call them. I had little time to speak with Cash and when we finally caught up, conversation was often stilted.

Cash remembered our transient and ancient history. I didn’t.

“Roo, are you ready?” he said gruffly, losing patience.

“Yes,” I replied.

My palm slid down the cold window to drop at my side and I twisted to see Cash guarding the Player, as promised, strapped into a reclining seat in the center of the room. Cash was a tall man, lithe and athletic yet, in comparison, the seated man looked like The Hulk. He was massive, barely fitting in the chair. And I don’t mean obese, but bulky like a weight lifter. He wore a checked flannelette shirt, jeans and worker boots. Mid to late thirties. I gave the bearded man a once-over as he squirmed under the surgical lights. He looked normal enough. Definitely a Player with his tattooed star-map on one side of his stern face and neck.

I walked to the patient thinking about how Jed and Cash had found him in a Krakow bar showing off by creating fireballs. He wanted the women to fawn over him, and the men to bow to him. He was a demi-god, and the world owed him that.

But that squirm. The sheen of sweat over the bearded Player’s brow.

He’s nervous.

“Is this really necessary?” the Player asked.

“Yes.” Cash stood at my side, arms folded. Today he wore a thick leather jacket. His biceps and shoulders stretched the fabric to its limit, muscles honed from constant physical exertion and time spent fighting Urser’s rebels and rogue Players. “You revealed your abilities to the public and now you want to be let in to the refuge. Damned straight we test you.”

“But the game is over. We can do what we want,” the man said.

I held my palm up to stop Cash replying. He closed his mouth, lips pursing, eyes pinching, clearly chagrined.

“No,” I said to the man. “You can’t do what you want.”

Cash wanted to step in and reprimand the man, I could sense it. He had changed since I’d last seen him. Grown more volatile. He didn’t like me working with the infected and had told me this on more than one occasion. But too bad. I needed to do this for my sanity, my peace of mind, for my injured soul. Because of The Game and its darkness and destruction. The sin. It all originated from me. I had to do something or I would go mad.

I continued, “The Gamekeeper said this is the last round of the Game, but it’s not over yet. You can’t create fireballs out of thin air every time you want to impress a girl or start a cult. Our secret must remain hidden.”

The man snorted. “Whatever.”

“Don’t be a dickhead,” Cash growled. “Show respect to your queen.”

I cringed as more pressure lumped on my amnesiac brain.

Cash added, “Despite what you revealed, we have to test everyone we let into the refuge. The threat is real.”

“Fine.”

“Good,” I said. “You’re well aware it’s a volatile environment for Players. Urser has seen to that with his infection of a majority of you. With that in mind, after you’re cleared, you can risk staying on this planet or end your Game and return to the Empire. At the moment, we’re leaving this choice up to the individual. What was your name again?” I asked, inspecting his aura for telltale signs of fact or fiction.

“Malcolm.”

I wrote it down in the notebook beside me to disguise the fact I picked up a flicker of something in his essence. Maybe nothing.

“Okay, Malcolm, what House do you belong to?”

“Aldebaran House.”

My brows lifted. They had been the meatheads of The Ludus, always spoiling for a fight. From memory, they had also been a House in conversations with my father, Bruce Urser, a.k.a. Spawn-of-all-evil-set-to-destroy-this-planet-with-darkness-and-then-the-rest-of-the-known-universe.

The dinners Bruce hosted from his royal suite back at the Australian Ludus served more than one purpose. On the surface, they forged marriage alliances between Houses for a show of strength in the Game, but on another level, deeper pacts were made. Ones that dealt in soldiers for his dark war.

“I’m not infected. I would know,” Malcolm said.

“Only last week we had someone sitting in your position, saying the same thing. His virus had mutated. It remained dormant in his body since infection until the UV light from our scanner activated it. So I wouldn’t speak too soon,” I said.

“Just do what you gotta do and get on with it.” Malcolm’s eyes widened at Cash when he tested the straps around Malcolm’s wrists. “You’re going to watch?”

Cash widened his stance, arms folded. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I walked out of our makeshift medical bay to another space where curtains shielded Lena’s operating table. Jesop had a lab station set up on the other side of the room. Neither Lena or Jesop were here, but they had left the UV scanning handheld device on an instrument trolley. I found it and switched it on. Blue light and a humming sound emitted from the wand.

“If you are infected,” I said, “I can purge the poison, so your soul can return to the Empire. Nothing to worry about.” I placed the scanner face down on the bench next to Malcolm’s chair.

“My soul is already free.”

“This should be a piece of cake then. Let’s start.” I activated the switch on the chair and watched it further recline until Malcom was lying flat, staring at the ceiling. He tugged on his wrist restraints every so often, but didn’t complain. After a Player morphed into a darkling before our eyes, the straps became necessary.

I checked Malcolm’s eyes under the lids. No filmy black residue. Good. I asked more basic questions regarding his health and checked his short, sharp responses against his aura fluctuations. The familiar routine was comforting. I felt like I knew what I was doing in this lab. Mostly, he told the truth, but a vibe underlying his words stirred my blood. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Not enough to flag as a lie, but not steady enough for truth. Just a feeling.

I flicked a glance at Cash. Often the infection carried a rotting, putrid undertone, and he’d smell the disease a mile away. Cash’s eyes locked on Malcolm with menace, but that was normal. His protectiveness around me was borderline over the top. If he was away, Marc was here watching. Jed also lurked nearby, and occasionally I’d see a handful of other nameless people protect me. Between them all, I felt like a caged Yo-Yo.

“Okay, let’s have a look.” I held the scanning rod over Malcolm’s head. Blue light reflected off his skin and revealed every blemish, freckle and wrinkle as I scanned. In recent experience, we’d discovered the serum had presented in one of two ways. The first was instantaneous. Ripples under the skin until eyes melted to black holes. The second took a few days and occurred once the UV rays from the sun had enough time to activate whatever was under the skin—perfect ticking time bombs.

I switched the scanner off and put it down. He was an asshole, but he wasn’t infected. “Okay, you can go,” I said and released his chair into an upright position before undoing his straps.

Malcolm swung his large legs over the edge. “So, I’m cleared?”

“Yes, you’re cleared,” I confirmed.

I darted a glance at Cash, who watched me like a hawk. Underneath his worn leather jacket, his muscles flexed, geared for action. I only needed to look at him weird and he would probably end Malcolm right then and there. Part of me thought his eagerness grew out of a protective instinct for his fiancé, but deep down, I knew there was something else that troubled him. A dark desire, a remnant of his violent past, skirted every behavior and thought. I’d seen it first hand when I’d once woken him from a nightmare only to have his fingers crush my neck into near oblivion.

“Jed is waiting for you outside, Malcolm. He’ll show you to your room,” Cash added.

“You’re not going to take me?” Malcolm replied.

“I think one person holding your hand is enough.” Cash took the scanner from me and returned it behind the curtains of Lena’s operating bay.

Malcolm grumbled and slid off the chair. He took a few steps towards the exit then paused halfway, his back to us.

A stillness washed over me.

Something was wrong.

The serum?

Malcolm’s aura vibrated at a higher frequency and escalated. His hands flexed at his side. I sought out Cash who had turned from the curtain. He froze, sensing danger.

“Malcolm?” I took a step forward, hesitant.

My foot barely touched the floor when Malcolm pivoted and threw two fireballs at my head. I dropped, lifting my hands, intending to throw up a shield of hard air but the fire sailed over my head to hit the curtains. So fast!

“What are you doing?” I cried, mortified. I tried to make sense of it. His aura was normal. Eyes, clear. Still no sign of the serum. This was all Malcolm.

He glared in my direction. “I was hoping to get you alone, but, oh well. May as well kill two Players with one stone.”

Behind him, Jed’s head popped around the exit, checking the disturbance. His eyes caught on Malcolm, then on Cash behind me and he gave a curt nod. Cash slipped into effortless battle mode. His face deadpanned. His body relaxed. He advanced.

“Stay down, Roo,” Jed said. He trained his gun on Malcolm’s head.

Malcolm cast a look over his shoulder and sneered. “That won’t kill me.”

“But it will slow you down.”

Fire crackled, smoldering in Malcolm’s fingers.

Jed jerked his gun. “Don’t do it.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Malcolm.” Jed’s gaze shifted to a spot to my side.

Cash stood there with wild eyes and a wolfish smile, tipping on the balls of his feet, ready to pounce. Fear sliced through me at his feral vibe. The hairs on my arms stood on end. Violence. Destruction. Cash’s hidden essence surged, exploding out of his being, coating the room thick with dread. This was new, this charged, unpredictable reaction that didn’t bother hiding anymore. It was as though his essence knew he wanted to be heard, to be feared, and it happily came out of hiding when he attacked. Everything inside me urged a retreat, but I forced myself to stand firm. Sudden movements would not be welcome.

Malcolm’s eyes focused on Cash, hesitating, as though he too sensed the shift in Cash’s aura. He lifted his smoldering palms menacingly.

I blinked.

A breath. That was all it took, and Malcolm was gone. Cash stood in his place, a bright blue flaming sword in his hand, staring at a pile of ashes drifting softly to the stone floor.

Chapter 2

“What the hell was that?” I couldn’t stop the words trembling on my tongue.

I had to force myself to not believe my eyes because, although my eyes saw Malcom being murdered by Cash, my brain knew Malcolm’s soul would find its way to the nearest Purgatory, wherever that was. Still, I couldn’t help drawing my cardigan tighter across my middle.

“Cash?” I tried again, but he ignored me. I glanced at Jed for help, but he sighed and holstered his gun. He cast a sympathetic look my way then went back outside the lab to resume his post.

Cash’s blue flaming sword winked out of existence as he stepped away from the ash.

“Hey!” I yelled this time. “Don’t ignore me, Cash.”

An almost imperceptible tilt of the head was the only indication he’d heard, because he said nothing and moved to retrieve a dustpan and brush from underneath a stock trolley. He crouched down near the ashes and began sweeping them up.

“I’m not ignoring you, Roo. I’m cleaning up.”

“What the hell? Why did you do that?”

He spun toward me and pointed the soot-covered brush at my face. “Don’t ask me to apologize. I’m not sorry. He was trying to kill you. I’d do it again.”

“But…”

“This is the Game, Roo. The last one. And you’ve got the biggest target on your back.”

“That’s not true.”

He laughed, short and sharp. “Killing you would be the biggest show of power. Depending on who you speak to, your death could be seen as making a positive difference in this world, making the evolutionary reward massive. Don’t you see that’s why I was so pissed off Marc took you gallivanting around the world to save a measly few Players?”

I bit my tongue to stop the tears threatening my eyes. “I can protect myself. I don’t need you to kill for me.”

My words hit him like a physical thing. Instantly, he softened and closed the gap between us until he stood inches from my face. I stared into his chest, unwilling to meet his eyes. His jacket was open. His shirt was gray. There were two black smudges on the cotton, backfire from Malcolm’s ash.

Cash dropped the brush, and it clattered to the stone floor. He took hold of my shoulders and squeezed gently. His deep voice was velvet next to my ear. “Is that why you won’t convert to Seraphim? You think we’ll end up back where we started, with me killing for you?”

We were soulmates. Apparently that meant he could use his godly blood to purge the weak human DNA from my blood, leaving me strong and immortal like a god—the Seraphim. Like Cash. I didn’t know how to answer him. I didn’t remember my past life as the queen. She was me, but I wasn’t her. Between stories I’d heard from Marc and Cash, I’d pieced together what had happened on the day the earth stood still. The queen’s son, the prince, stole the original sin his mother extracted from her science experiments—humans. She wanted to make a world without pain. She couldn’t have known her efforts were doomed to fail. Following in his mother’s soul-science footsteps, and with Urser’s help, he’d converted it into a dark serum that melded with his own blood, and then fed it back to the people, resulting in thousands of mind controlled monsters we now call darklings.

Cash had always warned the queen against tinkering with creation, but she hadn’t listened. In the end, there was more pain than she could stand and when Cash had to clean up her mess, it almost destroyed him. It broke his soul into pieces—literally—and he became doomed to have his soul parts reincarnate separately.

The queen had become a recluse until the call of the planet and the Game somehow brought her back as a secret Player. And then she was me, and I found Cash. And now look at him. He just killed without a second thought. We were already back on the same path—history doomed to repeat itself.

“Everything I touch turns to shit,” I said, faintly. “I mean, I was the queen. She neglected her son, created new life then forced you to kill them all. I don’t want to become her because she was the queen of turning things to shit.”

Cash notched a finger under my chin and lifted until our eyes clashed. “You touched me. Do I look like shit?”

He looked incredible. Hot. Sexy. Concerned. I swallowed and averted my gaze. Big problem: there was nowhere to look but down the hard planes of his chest, ridged stomach—yes, I could see his abs through his tight shirt—lower, lower… my eyes snagged on the way he filled out his jeans. Thick thighs, strong legs, and… I blushed. A zip of electricity shot down my lower abdomen and I was reminded of how long it had been since we’d been together. Weeks. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him for long. I had to lift my gaze back to his mismatched eyes. One blue, one brown, and both drilling into me.

“Christ, Roo.” Cash’s hand locked onto the back of my neck. “When you look at me like that.”

He crushed his lips to mine and his tongue pushed passed my teeth, delving inside with a possessive intensity. Hot mess melted inside me and I moaned. Tongues tangled, tasted, danced. His powerful essence rushed into me, fanning my kindling desire and it was almost too much. Too hot. Too raw. But knowing I could undo him with a look ignited me further and suddenly, I couldn’t get enough of him. I kissed him back, without hesitation, because I missed him so much.

Even if he had changed since I’d last seen him, in that moment I didn’t care. He didn’t either. In our desperate passion, we knocked into tables, sending medical instruments flying. I needed to know he was still my Cash, despite the ash.

The ash.

“Wait.” I pulled back. He frowned, irritated, wanting more from me. It gave me the fuel to push his hard body away. “Cash, we need to talk.”

He stared at my mouth with single-minded determination and damned if my body didn’t ache for him to ignore my words, but I stepped back. I turned around and placed my palms on the cold steel bench next to the examination chair. The icy temperature anchored me.

A warm touch on the back of my neck as Cash brushed my long hair aside. The hard length of his body pushed up against me, insistent, pushing me into the bench. Hot breath hit my neck.

“Talk,” he rasped and kissed the skin beneath my ear.

A tremble tore through me and my eyes fluttered closed. Damn it.

“Stop. Jed is outside.”

“I’ll shut the gate.”

“He can see through the bars.”

“Lets go to our room.”

Our room. My heart squeezed. I’d have no resolve there.

Cash’s hands slid around to my front, tickling my stomach underneath my clothes. His fingers searched until he found the top of my jeans.

“Shit.” I grasped his wrists before he went any lower.

“I want you now,” he urged.

“How did you move so fast?” I asked. “Before. You moved from behind me to Malcolm in the blink of an eye.”

My words were an ice bucket thrown on us. He pulled back, and I spun to face him.

His broad chest heaved on a deep breath. “It’s who I’ve always been. Now that I’m Seraphim, my abilities are completely restored, amplified even. I’ve lived thrice over while everyone else has lived once. The universe must have liked my contribution to the world because I’m evolved.”

“And the light saber thingy?”

“What’s a light saber?”

“Oh yeah, you hate pop culture. I meant the flaming sword.” He’d had a sword of blue fire that appeared out of nowhere to obliterate Malcolm. In mythology, the Archangel Michael used a flaming sword. Marc told us the myth originated from Cash’s ancient exploits as the queen’s enforcer. He was the avenging angel who, on God’s word, cast the sinners out of paradise. Except, in reality it was another version of me who ordered him to kill all the people, and block them from returning to the Empire via the star-gate.

Cash shrugged. “It’s just a focused extension of my aura. It has the power to obliterate both body and soul if I choose.”

“But why did you have to kill him? Couldn’t you have resolved it some other way? Aren’t there procedures for this sort of thing?”

“I didn’t kill him. I could’ve, but I didn’t. I ended his Game. There’s a difference.”

“Can you use that sword on anyone?”

Understanding cleared his eyes. He knew where I was going with this.

“I’m not some half-cocked green teenager, Roo. I know what I’m doing.”

Unease unfurled in my gut. He could kill someone with that thing, not just end their Game, but their forever soul. With his temper, his reactions… I looked away because an even darker thought occurred to me. Cash had done this before. Jed’s lack of reaction proved it. I’d been kept in the dark deliberately.

I didn’t get a chance to explore this revelation with Cash because Jed poked his head around the wall of the exit to say, “The Tribunal wants you for the meeting.”

Cash scrubbed a hand over his short hair. “How long?”

“Five minutes.”

Chapter 3

I didn’t feel very intimate after I found out Cash’s true nature had been hidden from me. In fact, I tried desperately to not feel much at all, but my swirling cocktail of emotions was too hard to ignore. Betrayal, confusion, guilt—all threatened to undo me and I had no time for that. Not again. Jed had interrupted us with a message: the Tribunal wanted to meet.

As we walked through the cold castle, I squeezed my eyes shut and blocked my feelings out. If I let one emotion slip through, the entire flood would drive in, so I forced a deep, calming breath and focused on my steps.

Step—empty. Step—empty. Step—empty. Don’t think of Cash. Don’t think of his change. He’s the same Cash, and you’re the same Roo. But the vision of him standing over Malcolm’s ashes kept flashing before my eyes.

Step—empty. Step—empty. Step—empty.

This is good. I am in control.

A sideways glance at Cash caused me to stumble. Instantly, his hand shot out to steady me. “You okay?”

Warmth bloomed in my chest.

I smiled and his lips lifted on one side, wary but happy.

I was overreacting. Totally.

We went up the maroon carpeted steps, past a few living quarters and on to a large assembly room where there were fourteen seats at the large round oak table. Ten were occupied by Watchers—Seraphim banished to live out their lives on this planet. The buzz of electricity humming from their virulent auras was loud enough that I wanted to cover my ears. I stared at the jugs of water and empty glasses while I acclimatized myself to their power.

Fourteen spaces, I mused. Perhaps two representatives from every continental Ludus were meant to be there. That would make sense.

I recognized a handful of faces, Jacine the Goddess of Love, among them. Marc was conspicuously absent, but he often was at these things. Being God of the In-Between, he often got distracted by space and time and had zero punctuality. He’d also told me once that the in-between could warp your sense of time, or perhaps it was that you could get lost there… I hoped he turned up soon. Another friendly face would be welcome.

Lena, the blind healer from Corvus House was here. Her head titled my way upon my entry. She could sense people’s emotions and obviously I wasn’t concealing mine as I thought.

Wren and Lincoln were also here, sitting together on one side. My brother’s blond scruffy hair had been trimmed to look neater, but his shirt was still recalcitrantly inside out. Wren also had short-cropped blond hair and big blue eyes. They were Players and not officially Tribunal, but since both their Houses, Urser and Cetus, were among the traitors, we needed representatives we could trust. Lincoln was what we classed “a defective download”. Despite his body being covered by an enormous star-map, he had no supernatural abilities apart from being a world-class party boy. He seemed tamer when Wren was around, though, and since Urser’s attempt to convert him to darkling, he had no love for our father of the flesh. I liked to think our friendship had brought him from the dark side, but when I saw the way he looked at Wren, I was sure I had nothing to do with it.

For the record, Wren looked at him the same way, shyly and from underneath her lashes. In fact, they could be holding hands under the table. Their auras harmoniously touched—wisps and frequencies melded together.

Her powers let her commune with animals and, after this meeting, she was taking Lincoln to Africa to rescue endangered animals from human poachers. He said he wanted to see a Safari, but I knew otherwise. He would follow her anywhere. Seeing them both together made me smile.

To one side of the table sat a pair of men I could only assume were from Eridanus House because they were Ken Dolls, the pair of them. Tanned skin, plastic blond hair with shots of silver at the temples, blue sparkling eyes and Hollywood teeth. One wore a blue suit that reminded me of a rigid Navy Captain. The second wore a white, linen shirt that opened at the neck to display the dip in his collarbone and perfect male chest. The barely restrained sneer-turned-smile they sent me pulled their skin taut as though they’d had Botox. Shiny expressionless and frozen faces. I couldn’t tell if it was from plastic surgery, or if their timeless features were a symptom of their particular Seraphim origins. Cash and I were apparently from the Orion Constellation. But Eridanus would be a separate constellation all-together and perhaps many light-years further away. It was all part of the Empire and, as far as I knew, every native from those planets was humanoid, but these two… there was something otherworldly about them. Angry dolls come to life.

Cash cleared his throat and pulled out a seat for me. “After you.”

I smiled sheepishly and sat down. I’d been staring.

A glance at my engagement ring had me twisting the band around my finger with the thumb of the same hand. Cash and I hadn’t spoken about it much since he asked me to marry him at the Libertine Ball. Obviously, we’d been busy. I hoped that was all there was too it. On the other hand, plans for Kitty and Alvin’s Margaret River wedding was in full swing. My friends were knee-deep in preparations. Kitty called me nightly to discuss color themes, venues, flowers and decorations—you named it, we discussed it. Her wedding was only a month away. She was my best friend, but she didn’t know about my engagement, or my true identity. She just thought I had witch-like abilities and could dye her hair blue and green without a trip to the salon. I don’t know why I didn’t tell her about my engagement.

“Thank you all for coming,” Jacine said, standing up. Her pink, cotton candy hairstyle didn’t move, stuck permanently in a bob position. She wore her usual white sheath dress that hugged her curves. In mythology, she had been known as the Goddess of Love and Fertility. Marc told me she got carried away creating a cult in Roman times and had to be confined to the underground London Ludus. But she didn’t let her failure beat her. She used her time to progress to Operations Manager. She was every little girl’s role model. Slick, demure, confident. Everything I wasn’t. She stared at everyone at the table until all speech halted and eyes were on her. “I know there’s a lot happening within each of your Ludus territories and I thank you all for convening here. You’ve been busy with your disaster recovery efforts, but as you know, the Empire’s Enforcer has returned and in a timely manner too. We’re in dire need of a war council, and military direction. Mr. Samson, you called. We’re here. What can we do?” Jacine nodded to Cash and sat down.

Cash called the meeting? That was news to me. Jed had made it sound as though it was the Tribunal who called. I supposed I shouldn’t be surprised, Cash had not only been the Queen’s Enforcer, but he’d also been a respected military leader, reincarnated many times over.

Cash cleared his throat. “It’s been two weeks since the attack on Luduses around the world. Urser will unleash more chaos if we don’t stop him. So far it’s only been Nephilim and Seraphim souls in the crossfire, but I know for a fact he tested his serum on humans. He’s harvested most of your Nephilim stock and has left your Houses depleted. Since we’re in a”—he glanced at me—“sticky situation, we can’t return him to the Empire and seek formal aid. We must remain on this planet for the foreseeable future. Thankfully, humans currently believe the acts to be terrorism or witch—related, and our secret remains safe.”

“Would it be so bad?” Grumbled another man. When a series of shocked faces looked his way, he added, “Not the chaos part, the secret revealed part.”

His skin was dark brown. Youthful in appearance but ancient in the wisdom shining behind his gray eyes. From his accent, perhaps he was from the Afrikaan Ludus. There was nothing left of it now.

When Marc and I had teleported to each Ludus, the Afrikaan Ludus had been hit the worst. The pyramid above it was ancient and dense. It crumbled to the ground and beyond. So many died. Mainly Seraphim and Nephilim, but there were a few human casualties. The death toll was enormous. The Players who weren’t killed were converted to darklings. We couldn’t end their Game because the dark poison anchored their souls to their bodies in such a way that if we killed the host, the soul went with it. A true death. It was as though Urser played to our sense of preservation. He knew if we killed them permanently, their interplanetary homes would blame us for their loss just as much as Urser. Most Players were diplomats and people in high places. There would be an intergalactic war.

So far, those missing darklings hadn’t resurfaced, which meant Urser was saving them for something. Since the mass infection and destruction of Luduses, we’d been wracking our brains to think of a possible plan. We knew Urser couldn’t coerce Marc to transport the darklings to the Empire because their souls were tethered to their bodies. They’re atoms would entangle and they’d die. Also, the star-gate that originally brought all Seraphim to this planet was broken, so Urser can’t use that to bring darklings to the Empire that way. So, unless Urser planned on using them to control this planet, I had no idea what he wanted with them. It was the calm before the storm.

“Your Majesty?” A male voice broke through my thoughts.

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked, glancing around the table searching for who spoke. It was the Afrikaan Watcher who returned my puzzled look. Maybe it wasn’t him, but someone had asked me something and I had no idea who. I kept my brave face on, but inside I was sinking in shame. Real un-queenly of me to zone out during an official meeting. To cover for it, I said, “Would you mind introducing yourself before you speak? I’m afraid I still don’t know many of you.”

Mr. Ego-Anus—the name I’d decided to call the youngest of the plastic Ken dolls—rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.

“You can start.” I pointed at him. “What’s your name?”

To my pleasure, Cash placed a firm hand on my shoulder in a show of solidarity.

Ego-Anus narrowed his eyes briefly but his companion, Sir Captain Eridanus answered for him. I named him Captain because of his navy like attire. He seemed the oldest of the plastic pair. “Please forgive us, Your Majesty, we are only fresh in from Iceland where we were staying at the time of the attack. My name is Cato and my son here is Thurstan.”

“Nice to meet you, Cato and Thurstan.” I shifted my gaze to the Afrikaan Watcher.

“My name is Zebedee, Your Majesty. I am from Draco House of the Afrikaan Ludus.”

Afrikaan Ludus, but Draco? I hadn’t heard of that House yet.

“We have few left in our House after it was slaughtered by Urser.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Zebedee,” I said. “How many Nephilim and Seraphim were taken?”

“Forty-one were infected. Sixteen were Nephilim children, twenty-five were Players who had their Game ended.” He looked around the room. “Additionally we still have three Draco Seraphim unaccounted for. It is unclear whether they had a hand in the betrayal or were taken themselves.”

“From the intel we have, I don’t believe there are any Seraphim infected with the serum,” Cash said from behind me. “Only Nephilim and the occasional human.”

Any Seraphim missing must be a traitor or a prisoner. I studied my hands, thinking back to something Zebedee said. “Nephilim Players know their souls will return to the Empire, but did the children have a clue?” What I wanted to say was, did the children know they were being murdered, or was this shock tempered with the knowledge that they weren’t really dying, but going to a better place?

“Nephilim are not educated about the truth of their Player status until they reach adulthood. They all thought they were human. Oh, and that figure I gave you about losses was just for our House. If you want a report on the full extent of Afrikaan casualties, I’m afraid I can’t give it to you.”

Cash glanced down at me. “Do you want to know?”

“Yes,” I said quietly.

“It was in the hundreds,” he replied.

I slumped in my chair. There were no words. Anger replaced despair as I dwelled on Seraphim betraying their own kind and I kept thinking of how I would have felt if, as a young child, I was suddenly thrust into the world of the gods, watching others of my kind turned into monsters. I refused to let my train of thought touch on the possibility that they were infected too. How could any decent person willingly gift wrap Players for darkling conversion when they knew they were killing their forever souls?

“This is why I believe we should go public,” Zebedee said, interrupting my thoughts. “We expose Urser, we blame him for the catastrophes, and get the human population on our side before he manages to do it first. We can use human resources to flush him out and capture him. The sooner we squash his rebellion, the sooner we go home.”

“And unleash chaos? That’s the worst suggestion I’ve heard all year,” Cato rumbled. His son snorted in approval.

“You would use humans as pawns to clean up our mess?” Another nameless Seraphim rumbled from his table seat. I was about to ask for an introduction, when Zebedee snapped, “And what do you suggest? Give them all a makeover?”

I let them bicker amongst themselves and glanced at Cash who frowned at the Watchers. Feeling lost, I looked for Marc.

“Excuse me, but has anyone heard from Marc?” I asked, interrupting.

Jacine shifted in her seat as did a few others. It was Lena who finally spoke. “He’s taken the last load of souls in Purgatory back to the Empire where he is gaining insight on how to further proceed here.”

“Oh.”

“Roo, do you have an opinion?” Cash rested a palm on my shoulder. “About going public.”

“I don’t know,” I confessed. “I don’t feel I’m the right person to ask this.”

“You’re the queen,” Thurstan stated.

“But I don’t know.” My pulse quickened at the irritation directed my way. “I don’t know anything.”

Someone made a sound of agreement which made me feel even less welcome.

“Like I said, my vote is for going public,” Zebedee said, turning to his neighbors. “It’s happening anyway. We should get ahead of the curve and control the dialog.”

“I agree,” Cato added. “I say this without intended offense, Your Majesty, but your original decree to remain hidden for the term of the Game doesn’t apply anymore. You’re not the same person and times have changed.”

“She’s still your queen,” Jacine snapped.

When I’d first met Jacine at the Australian Ludus, she’d treated me like a child. I hadn’t expected the Goddess of Love to have such an abrupt and crisp demeanor. The years on this planet had changed her, as it had with many of them. Another stark reminder that whoever I was before, she wasn’t all that great in my opinion. Surprisingly, the minute Jacine discovered my true identity, she became my biggest supporter. Who’d have thought?

“Was, Jacine, she was our queen,” Thurstan said. “This young woman sitting before us is arguably not the same person. She can’t remember the reason she confined us to this planet, so how is she supposed to use correct judgment to make an informed decision? The only proof we have that she is actually the queen is that she appears to have the Seraphim physiological response when her true name is called. As far as I’m concerned, anyone can fake those shivers. I move she abdicate in favor of this Tribunal. At least until we get word from the Empire.”

A murmur of approval clashed with outcries from my supporters—Cash among them. The split was easily fifty-fifty. On one hand, I was honored that people were on my side, on the other… maybe they were right.

Would they stop arguing if I said it sounded great to me? I started to reply but was stopped by Cash’s firm hand on my shoulder as he glared at the Tribunal. “Mention abdication again and I’ll abdicate you.”

“You can’t abdicate me. I’m not King. That doesn’t make sense,” Thurstan sneered.

“Sure it does. Think about it.”

My head dropped in my hand. This was going nowhere. Whatever the case, there were bigger fish to fry. My circumstances were second fiddle to Urser. This world was in danger and we were the only ones able to protect it. I sat up. That’s probably what I should be saying.

“Excuse me,” I said, my voice barely heard over the din. Thurstan flicked a balled up paper at Zebedee, provoking him. Who would’ve thought these were immortal gods? Someone had to rally them. I tried again, this time with more power in my voice. “Stop. Please, everyone can we focus on the important thing here?”

Seeing what I was trying to do, Cash added his voice to mine. “Quiet,” he shouted and slammed both palms on the table. The carafes of water and half-full cups trembled and sloshed.

All conversation dimmed.

Cash straightened, and looked down at me with an arched eyebrow as if to say, The floor’s all yours. It was then I became acutely aware that while he had called the meeting, it was me he kept deferring to. That warmth in my chest bloomed again.

I plowed onwards. “We have other pressing matters to discuss. Urser is our main concern. We deal with him first.” I angled my head to look up at Cash. “What do we know about his plans?”

I asked Cash because his past two weeks had not only been searching for survivors and infected, but scouting for traces of my father’s operations, in particular the lab he created the serum in.

Cash folded his arms, jacket creaking. “My team in Houston have been working on this for months. We’ve discovered experiments on humans with the serum but as far as we can see, they were just tests. After the initial cases, we haven’t detected any further activity. As you all know, the serum was used on Nephilim during the Libertine Ball across the world. Urser’s taken control of these darklings and spirited them off somewhere. We’re getting reports from pockets of groups still playing the Game that Nephilim in their camps have also sporadically gone missing. We’ve put the word out for survivors to seek refuge together, or to come here if it’s possible. Thanks to your queen, we have purged the few darklings we recovered and are keeping a close eye on them.

“The location of Urser’s lab has been narrowed down to somewhere in South America, but we are unsure precisely where. We have analysts assessing what we can from the country. As far as evidence to Urser’s plans, we don’t know enough. It’s all conjecture at the moment.”

I straightened, remembering something from my time living with my father at the Australian Ludus. “I overheard Squid talking about the serum production being almost finished. We could interrogate anyone I’ve purged to see if any of them saw or heard anything while they were under the influence. We might be able to learn more about the location of the lab and anything else about Urser’s whereabouts. I would imagine, that if they were used against their will, they might be forthcoming with some Intel.”

“Great idea.” Lena leaned forward. “I’ve got a mind-raider on staff. We can discretely visit each survivor and fish for information.”

I blanched. A mind-raider? It didn’t sound inviting. “Can’t we just ask them?”

“Mind-raiders are more effective. Similar to the Librarian, they can rifle through memories, but are slightly less intrusive and undetectable.” Cash paced behind me. “They can also be used to search for more Player animosity and bad blood. We had a Player attack in the medical lab today. Seems some don’t care we’re fighting a war with Urser, they only see this as their last chance to up their evolution points before the Game is canceled for good.”

“No. That is not acceptable,” Jacine said. “This is meant to be neutral territory. A temporary Ludus if you will. We simply cannot have Game plays on site. What happened?”

“I ended his Game,” Cash replied and then proceeded to explain how Malcolm had successfully masqueraded as a survivor to get close to us before he attempted to kill us.

The story plunged the group into silence, but their auras did the talking for them. Some were shocked, others appeared thoughtful as though they too were contemplating what this last chance at the Game could mean to them. Watchers weren’t Players, but they created Players in the hopes that when they returned to the Empire, their blood-tie to their progenies would pass on evolutionary points. The thing was, nobody had tested that theory yet as no Watcher had returned to the Empire. Ever.

I tuned back to what Cash was saying, “… another sentinel guarding the gate, and if we could have a mind-raider check each refugee as they are allowed into the compound, I believe that would help avoid another incident.”

“We can arrange that,” Jacine said. “What about that psychic girl who alerted us to Urser’s plan back in Australia. The Astraia House child? Can she help?”

“You mean Victoria?” I asked, remembering the awkward goth girl who tried to alert me to the problem I had with the Others, and then again to the arrival of my father on the night he destroyed the Ludus. “The seer?”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

Cash answered. “She returned to the Empire. Before she left, she helped us narrow down the location of Urser's lab. We’re close. I’m in the process of getting a team together to comb the areas she’s pointed out and as I mentioned before, we’ve got a team of analysts interpreting data from multiple sources. Any sightings of darkling like behavior will be checked.”

“I’ll come with you,” I said, standing to face him.

He lowered his voice for my ears only. “Until you agree to convert to Seraphim, you’re not going anywhere.”

“I can heal fine as it is.” I grit my teeth.

“You will heal better once your human DNA is purged.”

I bit down my response. I wouldn’t talk about this here. I mean, logically, of course I knew being Seraphim was far superior to being Nephilim, but there was so much more to it and I wasn’t ready.

Marc chose that moment to grace us with his presence. He popped into being in a corner of the room, appearing as his charismatic youthful self, covered in an illusion-construct of obscenely fashionable clothing. Tight pants, tight collared shirt that looked a million dollars, and leather loafers. He smoothed his styled blond hair back from his head. The dimple in his chin twitched as he smothered a smile. “Having a party without me, ay? Where’s all the booze?”

Everyone started talking at once. Some to Marc, others to each other, and I rounded back on Cash.

“You can’t keep me locked up here like a troublesome teenager,” I hissed.

“It’s because you’re acting like a damn teenager that I can.”

“Tell me what you really think, why don’t you.”

“You were attacked in our refuge. What makes you think you’ll be fine out there?”

“I can look after myself.”

He smiled. “Roo, you’re not a fighter.”

“I was when I was queen.”

“That’s debatable, and was being the operative word. Your powers aren’t at half capacity. When you convert, then you’ll be stronger, and we can talk.”

“Again with the converting.”

“Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

Someone cleared their throat. I’d forgotten we were in front of people.

“Love, the hunter is right. Having you at full capacity is best for everyone.”

Jacine frowned at Marc. “You need to stop calling her, love. It’s irreverent.”

“I’ll call her what I bloody-well want. She’s my friend.”

“Your Majesty. Your Highness. Those are more appropriate.”

“Bollocks.”

“Well, that’s definitely not appropriate.”

“You two should just get a room and get it over with,” Thurstan grumbled from his seat.

Jacine went white and Marc went red. It wasn’t long before the entire room erupted into conflict again. It was too much. With the way all these people snarked at each other, I honestly felt like I sat in a session of Parliament. I readied to leave by gathering my bag from under the table.

Cash leaned toward me. “You’re not going anywhere. You may be the queen but you need me to go out in public with you. The human world still has protocols against witches to contend with.”

Like a slap in the face! “Why are you doing this? Why are you treating me like a criminal, locking me in a prison?”

“Because you’re not thinking right.”

“I can help.”

“You can help more once you’re Seraphim. I don’t understand why you’re resisting.”

Because if I converted, then I would be her.

I blinked away the tears. He was only trying to protect me, and a part of me knew that. In a way, he was right. Being at the same power level as my peers in the room—as Urser—was a smart thing to do. These dangerous and finicky gods could turn on me any minute. Zebedee called for my abdication. All it took was for the rest of them to agree, and I’d be out of there. The crown, I didn’t really want, but my life? Yes. I wanted that dearly. I wanted to be done with all this and move back to Margaret River. I wanted my barmaid job back at The Cauldron. I wanted to ride my Suzuki dirt-bike down Bibbulmen Track when no one was looking. It was a simple life full of simple pleasures. I was being stubborn, I knew it, especially when I was in the thick of the mess here—a mess my other self created. God, I felt like a teenager in front of these ancient people.

“Even if I convert, my memories won’t come back, will they? Lena said I might get pieces here and there but I won’t get the whole lot. I shouldn’t be the queen. I should be Roo. Let someone else do it.”

There. I said it.

After the heat from my cheeks died down, I realized the room was now silent. All eyes on me.

Chapter 4

With the weight of the gods staring at me, I balked, and then my phone rang. It was the tune to Sir Mix-a-Lot’s I Like Big Butts. Must be Kitty.

I retrieved the vibrating object from the jungle of my handbag. Not too hard to find considering the sheer volume and movement the phone made. It almost jumped out. In fact, it did jump out. Right onto the table where it proceeded to vibrate and tremor its way across the expanse. It headed right for Cato and Thurstan who both widened their eyes. We all stared at the phone with different shades of horror, then I snapped out of it.

“Shit, sorry,” I said and reached for it.

No dice. My fingers slipped down the slippery phone casing and it popped out of my hold onto the wooden surface where it proceeded to jump along to the beat of the song, almost as if it were dancing.

Oh God, Sir Mix-a-Lot was now singing about round things in faces. I launched onto the table, attempting to catch the electronic bug. It jumped, hopped and skittered. In slow motion, I saw my doom. The phone moved toward Cato, his eyebrows lifted, the whites of his eyes expanded, following the intrepid path of the phone toward him. My belly slid across the wooden table, my hand outstretched. The next lyric was… Oh God… please don’t say horny. Please don’t say horny. I wouldn’t make it. At the last minute I sent my power out to catch the phone telekinetically as my body stalled at the center of the table. The rapping phone went airborne over Cato’s lap and paused, suspended mid air.

He said horny.

My forehead slapped on the table. This was not what I needed right now.

Marc laughed with a snort. “Great song choice, love. What have you got for my ringtone?”

“You don’t have a phone, Marc,” I mumbled, voice muffled.

“Oh yeah.”

Cash grabbed my ankles and slid me back to the end. The phone came with me and before I could make a bigger fool of myself, I answered the call and moved, intending to take the conversation outside. “Hello?”

“Put the Gamekeeper on.”

The words stopped me in my tracks. Not Kitty. Deep, female, distant. But certainly not Kitty.

“Who is this? How did you get my number?”

Cash tensed next to me.

“Put the Gamekeeper on or there will be suffering.”

The air halted in my lungs. My hand grew heavy, and I lowered the phone to my side. I caught Marc’s eyes.

“It’s for you.”

“Ooh. Right-O.” Always the one to miss social queues, Marc wiggled his eyebrows jauntily, probably expecting a party invite, or something. He walked around the table to where I stood and retrieved the phone. “Is that you, Dave?” he said into the receiver. “I told you I don’t do lawn bowls unless it’s nude. Perhaps a game of ten-pin… oh, you’re not Dave.”

All playfulness fled from Marc’s expression and he caught my gaze and held it. I wasn’t the only one watching him. The entire table had their eyes glued. Something was wrong.

Kitty.

“Uh-huh. Mm-hm. I see.” Marc rolled his eyes, and I relaxed a little. “No need to get snippy. I know what I agreed to. Right, we’ll see you in a few hours, then. Oh, and not a hair on the busty siren’s head to be harmed, yeah? Else ix-nay on the eal-day.” He stared back at the phone, and prodded it, frowning. “How do I turn this thing off?”

I took it from him. “Who was that?”

“Eve.”

“You mean Eve-the-witch-Eve? The same Eve who was the first of her race? The same Eve who led all witches into a peace treaty with humans so they can symbiotically leech life from the poor and the sick?”

“Yes, yes, love. All that.”

“What has she done with Kitty, and why is she calling from her phone?”

“No need to panic. Your friend is fine.”

Cash grunted. “What was the deal you made?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Marc replied and pushed an imaginary fleck of dust off his shoulder.

“Marc, you said ix-nay on the eal-day.”

Two blond brows lifted at Cash. “You know pig-Latin?”

“As does every child over four.”

“Oh.” He looked thoughtful for a minute. “That would explain how that police officer knew I was lying about—”

“Marc!” I snapped.

“Right. Deal. You want to know about the deal.” He glanced around the table. All Watchers returned his gaze.

“Go on, dove,” Jacine said.

“Yes, please enlighten us,” Zebedee added. “Why are you making deals with a witch?”

Marc sighed dramatically. “Fine. When we were searching for this bloke’s”—he waved at Cash—“Seraphim body, I told Eve she could go to the Empire in exchange for the truth about the Enforcer’s last days.”

“You can’t do that,” Jacine interjected. “She’s tainted. Unclean. Her soul will never pass the weighing ceremony.”

“Nobody’s weighing souls now, are they, love?” Marc replied.

“That’s not the point,” Cato added. “She’ll spread her abhorrent kind over the entire Empire. That’s—”

Cash silenced them both with a glare. “Nobody said that was going to happen.”

“Before you lot get your knickers in a knot,” Marc said, “I’m not intending to follow through. Now I know her location, I can go and finish her off. Easy.”

“Well, I have to come with you,” I said. “It’s Kitty. We should go right now.”

“She’s right for a few hours, love. We got time.”

“We’ve got time? I don’t know if I’m comfortable trusting a witch. We should leave now.”

“You can’t,” Cash said. “Do I have to explain why again?”

It was my turn to glare. “I can’t leave my friend exposed to the very first witch of all time. Eve had Kitty’s phone. There’s only one explanation for that—she’s in Margaret River with her.”

“Marc can handle it.”

“Cash, I’m not staying here.”

A deadly quiet stole over him, and he stared at me with a blank face. It was the kind of face you knew was put in place to hide tumultuous, simmering. He was disappointed. I knew it, but still, I needed to help my friends. The thought of a witch manipulating them when only a few months ago, they’d both narrowly escaped with their lives. Somehow, I’d managed to rationalize Petra’s attack on them as some sort of coincidence, but another witch after my friends? Not on my watch. They were my tether to the simple life, the dream.

Cash’s death stare promised consequences I didn’t want to push.

I swallowed. If the cost of my freedom would be converting to Seraphim, then perhaps I should do it. “Okay, you win.”

“You’ll stay?” he asked, dark brows winging up.

“Can we please discuss this back at our room?”

“I think everyone at this table deserves to be part of that decision.” He nodded to our company. “Don’t you think?”

Heat flamed my cheeks. How dare he?

Well, I was going to discuss the conversion, but now… “I’m going to help Marc. A witch has my friend. End of discussion.” I added quickly to the table, “No offense.”

“None taken, love,” Marc said.

“Then I’m coming with you.” Cash folded his arms.

“You can’t. You’re needed elsewhere—”

“I agree with that,” Marc interrupted. “Let her go. We can go through the in-between. I can protect her and act as her male guardian in public if the Simons ask.”

“Mind your own business.” Cash looked to the Tribunal for help. “A little help here?”

Jacine shrugged. Lena winced, probably from the intense emotion crowding her senses, and Zebedee lifted a brow before saying, “Perhaps the hunter is right and you’re safer on the grounds.”

“Obviously not, I was attacked!”

“This is true,” Cato added.

“I’m safer where nobody knows I’ll be. I’ll return as soon as we’ve dealt with the situation.”

“I’m still coming with you.” Cash wasn’t going to budge.

“You know as well as I that a plane ride to Australia is a day away. We don’t have the luxury of time. I’ll have to travel with Marc through the in-between and, besides, you have more important things to do than to babysit me. Like put together a team to trace the lab.”

“Enough.” Cato stood suddenly. “We all heard Marc say he has to be there in a few hours, thus he must teleport. She is not a damsel in distress. If she wants to prove her worth as the queen, then let her go. Gamekeeper, what news from the Empire?”

With those words, he sat down and I did too. Cash remained a statue of defiance at my back. I was sure I could hear a faint growl come from the base of his throat.

Marc blinked. “Right. Uh. Well, you see, it’s like…” He took a deep breath then met my eyes. “You’re going to have to return with me to the Empire.”

“No.” The word came out of my mouth before I could stop it. “Sorry, not happening. For starters, I have no body to return to, and second, I—”

“Love, if you don’t, then there will be repercussions. They won’t like it.”

Everyone at the table sat taller.

“Who’s ‘they’?” I asked.

“The Queen’s Inner Council,” Marc replied. “Her Guard. The United Peace-Keeping Force. You name it. They haven’t alerted the rest of the Empire that she’s gone—yet—but they can only hold off for so long. You have to return at some point and face the consequences of leaving.”

The air in the room dramatically dropped a few degrees and I hugged myself. “Can’t we just ignore them? They’ve put up with the queen being a recluse for a long time. Surely they can put up with me not coming back for a while.” A very long while. Like, forever.

Marc snorted. “Precisely, love. It’s been a hell of a long time, even by our immortal standards, to let the queen get away with her idiosyncrasies. She was there to justify them, now there is no one. They now know you’re not there, ruling, but here, playing games. They’re restless, and a few of their key Council members are here as well. If they don’t get everyone back, they’re open wide to a hostile takeover.”

“What? Other Council members? Who?” Jacine asked.

The rest of the table leaned in with avid attention.

“I’ve said too much.” Marc rubbed his eyes. “I can’t reveal who they are, you know that, else it could sway the Game and—”

“So they’re Players?” Jacine said, looking to her companions with curiosity. “There aren’t too many Players left, so it has to be some of them, perhaps even someone at this table.”

Until now, Lincoln and Wren had stayed silent and inconspicuous. At Jacine’s words, they both sank a little further in their chairs.

“Screw the Game, Marc. It’s war, now,” Thurstan added. “Get the Empire to come now.”

“They can’t open the gate from their side, you know that. Not without the queen there.”

“Then what repercussions will there be?”

“Love, they can’t walk through a portal here, but they will find a way. Someone smart enough will find a work around to your bio-key needed to open the gate. Because most of them believe you’ll be back, and they are loyal, they're giving you some leeway. They agree for you to wrap things up here, and as soon as there’s no danger to the Empire, they’ll be ready on their end for when you open the gate here. Until then, I’ll be taking every Player’s soul back as soon as I’m done with the bloody witch.”

Silence drifted over the table in a restless wave. Lincoln and Wren glanced at each other. I knew what they were thinking. They had an expiration date.

“So that’s it, then? Players are ordered home?” Strangely, relief washed over me as the words came out of my mouth. To have the decision removed from my hands was a weight lifted off my shoulders.

“We need our Players,” Zebedee said. “What’s left of them, anyway.”

“I concur,” said Cato. “We’re in a war. We need every soldier we can get and—” His final words caught in his throat. “I don’t want to die after all this time. I want to see my home once more.”

A murmur of agreement rippled around the table.

I got to my feet. “Let’s go then. I’ll go with Marc to deal with Eve. Cash, you go and find the lab and do whatever you have to do to secure the gate. I don’t even know where it is but let’s be proactive about sending you all home. Eliminate the danger first, then the gate.” Then a simple life with my friends. Speaking of which, time was ticking away, and I had to get to Kitty.

I expected defiance on Cash’s face, but instead found despair.

“Walk with me to our rooms,” I asked him, hoping to temper the situation. I glanced at Marc. “Meet me at the lab in five. Then we’ll go.”

“Make it twenty, love. I’m hungry and need cake. Hmm. Maybe thirty, depending on what cake the cook has made.”

“But—”

“Your friend is safe for now. No need to rush. I told her we’d be there in a few hours.”

“We’re not done here, Marc. You can finish explaining some things before you go,” Jacine said.

Marc opened his mouth to protest but was stopped by the questions of his fellow Tribunal members. I walked out.

Chapter 5

I walked through the cool castle halls to our suite. The further I walked, the more my heart grew heavy. Cash hadn’t followed. By the time I made it up two flights of enormous stairs to our room, I had talked myself into him not coming at all. He was too angry. The last time I’d gone against his wishes, I left him to spy on my father, Bruce. Cash hadn’t been happy. Furious, in fact. I ended up dying a few times (yes, actually dying) and he blamed his not being there for that. If it weren’t for the souls sacrificed inside me, I’d have been a goner. Now I had no souls inside me to sacrifice and if things went pear-shaped with Eve, it could be the end of me. But this was Kitty. He had to understand. I’d do the same for him.

Outside our large wooden doors, I pinched the bridge between my nose and took a deep breath, then entered.

The room was large, opulent and covered in maroon tapestries and antique portraits I was sure someone famous had painted. Many faces stared back at me, but not the one I truly wanted. I wasn’t even sure if Cash would come. My vivid imagination had him broodily staring out the window downstairs, watching the rain make muddy puddles in the ground, contemplating our relationship as much as I. The door opened.

Cash walked in and my heart skipped a beat.

His fierce gaze locked onto me.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi yourself.” He closed the door behind him and shrugged off his leather jacket. “You thought I wouldn’t come didn’t you?”

I scoffed. “No.”

He scanned my face with a small smile. “Sure you did. You were imagining the worst. Probably dreaming up some wild scenario about me brooding and eating a bucket of ice cream or something.”

“Close. You were watching the rainfall. From a window.” I grinned. “You know me so well.”

“That’s right. I do. And you can’t get rid of me that easy.” He placed his warm hands on my shoulders. “You know what I’m going to say, don’t you?”

“That you don’t know how our room stays so immaculate when we never see a maid in here?”

“I’m serious, Roo.”

My hands circled his wrists. “I will be fine with Marc.”

That despair I sampled earlier flickered again in his eyes. “You’re not at full power. You’re a sitting duck. There are plenty of Players—even Watchers—out there who want to make a name by killing you. I don’t even trust the Tribunal. I can’t lose you again.”

“You aren’t losing me. I’ll be back in a day. Two tops.”

“No, you don’t understand. You don’t remember, but I do.”

“Remember what?” Then it hit me. “Oh. It’s because I’m going with Marc, and that was like the last time you saw the queen—I mean me—before you lost me for good. The last time before I made you do those unspeakable things.” I cupped his face and rubbed my thumb along his rough stubble. “Cash. I’m coming back, and you know I’ll never do that again, but I have to make sure Kitty is okay. Please tell me you understand that.” A burst of fear froze my lungs, and I had to force myself to calm. Marc said Kitty was fine, I had to hold on to that.

But fine for how long?

He stepped away from me to a small tray near the arched window that held a crystal decanter and glasses. He poured himself a drink. The dull light from the window hit the amber liquid as it sloshed into the Old Fashioned glass. Little brown sparkles danced around the whiskey. He took a deep breath and I could see him struggling to keep his emotions in check. He shot the drink back and then poured a second glass, which he held out as an offering. “So why are you afraid to convert?”

I accepted and swirled the liquid. There were so many feelings his words conjured. I couldn’t drink. I didn’t have the taste for it.

“Are you sure you want to know?”

His steady gaze answered me.

“Okay. I guess I am afraid of the unknown, that I’ll change, that if I remember more than they say I will, I won’t be able to handle it. The queen caused a lot of pain. It’s not just the people in this world, it’s the land and the oceans and the horrible mess humanity is making. Did you know that one of the biggest contributions to global warming is the methane from cows bred for human consumption?”

Cash’s eyebrow arched. “You’re worried about the cows?”

“No, I mean, yes, but… it’s the effect humanity is having on the planet. Don’t you see it’s all my fault if I brought people here in the first place?”

“You don’t make every choice for every person, so don’t feel guilty for their mistakes.”

“But they’re my mistakes. I just don’t remember them. Once I convert, I might start remembering, and then I’ll have nowhere to hide except to answer for my original choices. Do you know what I mean?”

“So are you going to run away from your life forever? Lena said the probability of you remembering is slight. And… You’re the fucking queen, Roo. You answer when you want to answer, if at all.” His temper flared, and he gave a deprecating flinch then retrieved the still full glass from me and put it on the table.

“Let’s be honest,” I continued, “the Tribunal tolerate me. They don’t need me there. I can sense their power. Each of them is strong enough to rule instead of me. There’s just so much that doesn’t add up and I don’t think I’m capable of figuring it out. Anyway, we don’t really have time to talk about this now.”

“No one said you had to do it alone. You don’t have to do it at all.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t leave you to deal with this all on your own. Not when I created it. I just… never mind.”

Eagerly he closed the gap between us. “I don’t want you to hurt. I want you safe.”

“But I have to go and see Kitty. Nothing’s going to happen to me. Don’t worry.”

“It’s not the things you intend that happen, it’s always the unexpected that gets in the way.”

I kissed him gently on the lips, hoping to placate him, because I’d run out of words and my stomach was being pulled into knots with each passing second that I waited to leave for Kitty.

“If you converted, I’d feel better,” Cash said, looking down on me. “You’ve only scratched the surface of your true abilities. You need more training. More protection. As it is, every time I think of being separated from you, I can’t breathe for fear of losing you. The two weeks I spent hunting down those rogues with Jed, I thought of you every minute of the day. Then this morning happened and now I can’t even leave you alone in this supposedly safe fortress.”

“Cash—”

“Don’t go. Stay here. With me.”

For a minute, I thought we’d never agree. A flicker of doubt flashed before me. What if this was it? What if we were too different now?

“Don’t start imagining the worst again.”

My eyes widened, caught in the act.

“Roo, you’ve never been in love the way I am. You don’t know how this feels.”

I frowned. “I love you just as much as you love me.”

“It’s not the same. You’ve never felt this debilitating”—he hit his chest with his palm—“intensity of emotion. You’ve had one-night stands and childish crushes. You think you know what love is, but you’ve got nothing to compare it too.”

I stepped back. “Don’t belittle my feelings.”

“I don’t mean to offend, but it’s the truth. I remember everything we went through, ever. You’ve only got the last few months to draw on.”

He lifted a finger and trailed it down the vein in my neck, lighting the fuse that shot straight to my core. My eyes fluttered closed at the warm spread of pleasure and my body rocketed into turmoil. Part needed more touch, part churned to go and save my friends.

“I remember everything about you,” he whispered. “How you like to be touched. Where you like to be kissed. The mewling sound you make when I—” He leisurely stroked his hand down my front, fingertips tracing the curve of my collarbone, down, down, to the swell of my chest where he rolled my nipple through my clothing. That fuse he lit earlier sparked again and I arched into him.

“Not fair, Cash.” Chagrin warmed my face, and I glared at him. Pure want echoed back at me. My reaction only spurred him on.

He snapped our bodies together and leaned down, hot breath near my ear. “You love me to tease you, and you pretend not to like it, but you do.” He nipped my jawline. “I know this because I know you. You’ve only begun to know me.”

Despite myself, I softened against him. He had a point. I thought he was the love of my life, but it was a short life. His was immense. Not just the one as a god, as the Queen’s Enforcer, but the thousands of past lives as a human on Earth. I didn’t know all his idiosyncrasies yet, but he knew mine. “You’re right.”

He stared. “I am?”

“Yes.” I snuggled into him, my breath coming in hard, ready and eager to make peace. I’d had enough fighting.

“So, you’ll stay.”

“No, I meant, I’ll do it. I’ll convert.” It was my turn to nip along his jaw, prickly and hard.

“This isn’t a trick, is it?”

I licked. He shivered.

“No. I want to live a long life with you. I want to learn everything about you. You proposed to me wanting the same thing, and this body will pass its use-by date long before yours. You’ll outlive me by far. I want the chance to fall in love with you, over and over again. So,” I brushed my fingers on his torso, under his shirt, “baby steps, okay? Let me go with Marc and as soon as I’m back, I’ll convert.”

“Baby steps?” He captured my teasing hands and pulled them away from him. “Why not convert now?”

“You know very well the blood infusion takes time we don’t have. We’re late as it is. There’s no telling what Eve is doing to Kitty. The last time she faced a witch, she barely escaped with her life, remember? Remember her crisp skin and singed hair?” I still had nightmares about the cracking sound the knife made when Sabina sliced her skin to open up her flesh for the healing hex.

My heart leapt into my throat thinking about it.

“Okay. I can live with two days,” he conceded.

“I love you.” A weight lifted off my shoulders.

“Two days. That’s all.”

“And when I come back, we can talk wedding. You and me.”

“I can’t wait to be married to you.” His lids grew heavy and he tugged me in tight. “Then I will have all the time in the world to explore baby steps with you.”

A grin split my face and I kissed him, unable to pull my smile. “Thank you.”

“You will be thanking me in a minute.” His voice, so close to my ear, all masculine and hot, shot sparks into my nerve endings. I melted into him, compliance he took well advantage of as he directed me backward to the bed.

“You know what I mean,” I said. “For being okay with me going.”

“Don’t get sucked into any hair-brained schemes of Marc’s,” he said, peppering my face with kisses. “And let Marc deal with the witch.” He lifted my shirt. “And stay out of sight. Out of the media, and—”

I stopped his words with my lips to his. He gave a grunt of surprise then deepened the kiss, delving into my mouth with his tongue. His hidden essence came alive and called to me on a basic level. My blood sang with a savage need. I grabbed hold of his shirt with my two fists and twisted the fabric, pulling him back onto the mattress of the four-poster bed. He used his hands to brace himself on either side of my head as we fell heavily. His lips left mine for a second from the impact, then he was back again.

“God, I missed this,” he muttered into my mouth. He made long, deep strokes with his tongue.

I was beyond words at that point. I lifted his shirt. Cash tugged it back down and ran his warm hands slowly up my arms to caress my neck. He tasted the spots his hands stroked.

I writhed under his touch and pulled his shirt back up.

He pulled back, eyes glassy. “What’s the rush?”

“I have to meet Marc soon.”

“He can wait.” He resumed his exploration of my body.

I hooked my legs around his hips and popped the button on his pants. “I can’t.”

“No. You’re right,” he said, getting off me in a rush.

“That I can’t wait?” I said in a daze.

He readjusted himself and righted his clothes. “That you have to go, and I’ve waited weeks to be with you. What’s two more days when we will have forever soon.”

“What?” I sat up, everything in disarray, suddenly feeling bereft. “We can be quick. I promise.”

Heat flared in his eyes. “When I have you, Roo, I want to explore every last inch of your body. I want to take it slow, one step at a time.”

I smirked. “One step at a time?”

He smoldered. “One step. Then another. Slow, deliberate baby steps.”

I grabbed a pillow and covered my face then made an exasperated sound. When I came up for air, he was laughing at me.

Chapter 6

When I materialized in Margaret River with water around my ankles, I was in a tight, naked embrace with Marc. This damned mode of traveling was so inconvenient to my dignity. I pulled away and cast him a reproachful look until he clothed me with an illusion-construct, then sloshed toward the sand bank to have a look at our surroundings. We were near the white sands where a brown river mouth met the turquoise ocean and the water melded. The early morning sun caressed my head, and the warm ocean breeze tickled my face. Life teemed around me and every neuron in my body electrified. The water wasn’t just cool and liquid, it purred and buzzed with every soft wave that caressed my ankles. My senses picked up the very soul of the earth.

Lately, it seemed as though the more time I spent in the wild, the more I wanted to roll into it like a cat in catnip. Nature wasn’t pre-conditioned like a human or Seraphim soul, it was raw, unadulterated and naive at the same time. I felt as though I should stay a while and get to know it.

It felt as though it was trying to tell me something.

The more I looked at it, the more I was drawn in, lulled by the rhythmic wash of the waves. The sunlight on the water played in patterns before my eyes, dancing and hypnotizing me. My mind seemed to fall into it, immersing. I could almost hear… something. A conversation. Many. More. I dipped my finger into the water and watched the incoherent voices swirl around. What was it saying?

My heart galloped in my chest and I had a sense that I wasn’t doing something. Not just finding Kitty but something else. I had complete awareness of my surroundings and my mission with Marc, but below me, the ocean almost wailed and keened in despair. It thought I had forgotten it. Left it behind. It was as though it was sentient and it knew me.

Marc made a sound to my right and brought my attention back to focus on our surroundings.

“Why does it hurt?” I asked Marc.

Concern laced his voice. “Did I hurt you in the move, love?”

“No,” I said quietly, eyes and mind still trying to decipher the code of the ocean. “I meant this. The water. Never mind. Forget it. I’m being stupid.”

When I looked up, Marc’s intent gaze was on my face.

I pulled my hand out of the water and trudged to the beach, trying to laugh off my unsettledness. “Marc, when I said take us to Margaret River, Australia, I didn’t mean actually in the Margaret River.”

“Can’t help it, love.” Marc stood next to me, naked as the day he was born. He put his hands on his hips and breathed in deep. “Ah. Smell that? Smells like—”

“Clothes, Marc.”

“Well, no, I was going to say nature. Smells like nature at her finest.”

“I meant, put on some clothes. You should have done it the second you did mine. People could walk around the corner any minute. We need to get to Kitty’s pronto.” I glanced nervously down the beach. All the beaches were beautiful here, but since this was the town’s namesake, it was a popular family tourist spot.

“Right. Clothes.” In seconds he wore summer shorts and a polo shirt.

“Are you sure my clothes won’t disappear?” I asked Marc after seeing how easy he made it look to materialize clothes.

“Although that makes an appealing thought, regrettably no. Once I’ve created the illusion, it’s bound to you.”

“So, it’s real then.”

“In a sense. It’s not made with the same atom arrangement as fabric or leather, but… call it a carbon copy.”

“So when I do eventually need to take it off, I can?”

“Sure. Let’s go with that.”

“You don’t know?”

He shrugged. “I don’t usually need to. The in-between takes care of it for me.”

“But it’s organic, right? Shouldn’t it pass through?”

“It is, but it’s a copy. The magnetic fields holding it together don’t hold up through the in-between for long. Complicated stuff, love.”

“I just want to know I’m not going to flash someone.”

“All good.”

For a moment I was struck with awe. He knew how to arrange atoms! And he talked about it as though it were nothing but an afterthought.

“You’re very clever, Marc.”

“I know. Don’t tell anyone.”

The humor dropped from my face and I frowned thinking about what we might find when we caught up with Eve. Marc was insistent there was nothing to worry about, and I liked believing him, but was I being naive?

“You miss it, don’t you?” Marc asked, watching me with curious eyes that reflected the azure sky around us.

“Miss what?”

His gaze swept our surroundings. “This. Everything. The feel of the sand against your feet. The connection it gives. The communion.”

We stared out at the ocean for a beat.

“You and I both had an affinity with it, love. You more so than anyone alive. This planet was to be your saving grace. Being married to the king, you helped him conquer many lands, but you were never quite okay with the violent destruction, and then he died. You came here to make amends with the universe, to create a world at peace.”

My eyes fluttered closed. I reopened myself to the sun and let the power of life wash over me. The roar of distance waves, the whisper of the wind, the call of seagulls in the air. “I feel as though there’s something there I need to connect with, but I don’t know what it is. I thought this uneasiness I feel is because I don’t want the responsibility of being the queen, or maybe it’s because I just want to run away and live my life without all this Game nonsense, but there’s something else. I sense something else calling me. It’s like I’ve written a list of things to do and there’s an empty spot, or something blacked out.”

“Love, you were supremely connected to the core of the Universe. It’s the real reason you became so powerful. Somehow, you had a way of listening that connected you to the very spark of creation.”

“You make me sound like—”

“Mother Nature? Where do you think the name came from?” He kicked the sand. “It was the nickname your son threw at you. He meant it as a jest, but there was deep hurt in that name. He was jealous of the time you spent nurturing this young planet instead of him. Don’t get me wrong, you didn’t actually make the planet, but you nurtured it.”

“I don’t remember a minute of that tumultuous relationship the queen had with her son.” I cleared my throat, uncomfortable with the association. “Whether she meant to hurt him, or he meant to hurt her, I don’t feel I have any right to judge. If I meet him again, I’d like to think we could start fresh.”

“That’s where you are wrong, love. You are the judge. The only one linked to this great power we were all born into.”

The ocean swelled as if in response to his words, crashing on the shore, reaching for my feet. But it wasn’t rejoicing, it needed, and I felt it to my bones. I had a small inkling what Cash meant when he said my powers had only scratched the surface. When I converted to Seraphim, I’d open the floodgates. Performance anxiety spiked in my chest at the knowledge of the responsibility that power brought. “I can never live up to that expectation.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Don’t I? I sense the desperation in the wild. It needs me to fight for it, but I don’t know what I’m fighting for.”

“Cows.”

I laughed and slanted a look at him. “You’ve been speaking with Cash, haven’t you?”

“Maybe. Maybe I just think you should be forgetting about having a fresh start with the brat prince. He made his bed, and then he had to lay in it. Save your fresh start for someone else.”

A memory flashed before me. My sister, Leila, lying in a hospital bed. The witch had pushed out her soul and the body was left an empty husk, breathing on automatic. Petra had done something to her to keep the host body alive, ready and waiting for her final takeover. I remembered how pale and lonely Leila looked. Dull, damp hair plastered to her forehead. Sickly skin and hospital smells in the air. The isolation of it all struck me so much that on that day I swore I would fight for those who couldn’t fight for themselves. Those who were too weak. Too inexperienced. People like Kitty and Alvin. I wondered if it was possible, or if I had already failed and that’s why the queen ran away from her life of duty. She’d run away until she became me.

Someone with no memory.

Baby steps.

“So, why are we so far from Kitty’s?” I asked, keen to change the subject.

He looked at me as though I’d grown two heads. “And risk materializing in the middle of a wall? Love, I’ve never been there, I don’t know the layout, hence I could wind up in the middle of a solid structure.”

“Oh. That makes sense. Would you be hurt if that happened?”

“No. But you might. Sephie had limited travel abilities and we never tested the extent of them. It’s been eons since you were Seraphim on this planet last. Your original Seraphim body is gone. Your soul may have downloaded into a Nephilim body now, but I remind you, it is eternal. There’s no telling what evolution your soul gained from being linked to all this creation.”

Or devolution, I wanted to say. Because surely that same soul had been linked to destruction. The mention of my alter ego’s nickname silenced me. Sephie. It was too hard to think about. Right now I should be focusing on my friend. One step at a time. That I could do.

I shielded my eyes from the sun and surveyed our surroundings. I knew that if we continued along the beach, we’d find access to a road, but it was still a long drive to town. We had no phone and no money. “How are we going to get there, then? We’re running out of time.”

“One of two ways,” he said. “You point me in the general direction, and I hop to a place I can see where we won’t get noticed by the Simons. Or, two, we can hitchhike. Actually three, I can create a fake money-construct and catch a cab. What do you think?”

“I’m thinking I don’t have the time or patience for hitchhiking or waiting for a cab. Let’s hop.”

“Hop it is. Right-O, which direction, love.” He slung a casual arm around my shoulder.

Before long we stood in front of Kitty’s townhouse at the center of Margaret River. I was back in my illusion of clothes and was about to knock on the door when I had a sudden case of the jitters. I pushed my awareness beyond the door and searched for signs of life. No energy signatures. Was it empty?

I knocked.

We waited for a good five minutes before knocking again.

No answer.

The house was empty.

“No one’s home,” I said.

Marc rotated like a lost puppy. “What do we do now?”

“What time is it?”

“You’re asking me?”

“Right. Forgot who I was speaking to.” I stepped out of the shade of the portico to check the height of the sun. I had to step away from the garage to get a good look. Mid-morning. “We don’t have my phone so we can’t call. What did Eve say when you spoke to her on the phone?”

Marc shrugged. “Just to come here.”

“Here, here? Or here as in Margaret River, or—”

“Sorry love. I didn’t ask and she didn’t say.”

I stifled the urge to palm my face and took a deep breath. “I guess we can head to the bar. They might be there.”

Marc rubbed his hands together like a jolly teen. “A bar. Now you’re talking.”

“Pipe down, Marc. They might not be working. Eve has Kitty, remember?”

“Bah.” He swatted the air in my direction. “We’ll have that sorted in no time.”

The caw of a large crow sounded above us. A ticking sound on the tin roof of the garage drew our attention. The black bird hopped along the gutter and watched us with beady eyes. It’s aura was too loud for an animal.

“Familiar,” I said, grim.

“Bollocks. Just what we need.” He flung his hand out in a menacing action. “Let’s be done with it, yeah?”

The crow cawed again. This time with purpose. It hopped a few times from foot to foot as if it wanted to tell us something.

“Wait,” I cried, halting Marc’s simmering fingers. “It’s too coincidental that a familiar shows up when we’re looking for a witch, isn’t it?”

“The bloody thing is going to attack,” Marc said. “You can see it in its eyes.”

“No, I don’t think so. He might be a message from Eve. Witches can communicate with their familiars. That means I probably can too. Maybe I can work out what it’s trying to tell us.”

“But it wants to peck my eyes out. Look at it. Diseased and full of lies. Get rid of it.”

The bird watched us with interest, cocking its head.

“Not until we find out what it’s trying to tell us.”

Marc looked despondent for a minute then slapped his thigh with a revelation. “Once I saw that bleedin’ parasitic leader communicate with a spirit she charmed around her fingers. Remember that slippery shadow that followed me back in the States? She spoke to it. You used to have souls swimming around inside your head, yeah? Maybe one of them left a clue how to do it?”

“You mean Petra?”

“Gesundheit, love.”

“Pardon?”

“That’s what the civilized folk in Germany say when you sneeze.”

“I didn’t sneeze.”

“You didn’t?”

“No, I said, ‘You mean Petra?’. You know, the witch swimming around my head.”

“Not sure I’m following.”

Recently, I’d fought an ancient witch called Petra and her minion. Like Marc said, I had swallowed their souls, but the result had been catastrophic. I’d almost lost control of my body, with me trapped inside. Petra’s living Grimoire was one of the souls keeping me company, but since I ejected them all to save myself, I had only my memories of that time left. I couldn’t rifle for answers through them anymore. I had to rely on their time with me, and I spent most of that ignoring their presence.

“Petra was the witch who dumped me in the cave, remember?” Honestly, having a conversation with Marc was sometimes like teaching a toddler to tie his shoelaces. “Was that the witch you’re talking about? The one who spoke with—what did you call it—a slippery shadow?”

“Nope. Definitely not her. It was the first one. The one we’re here for. I once saw her use her ways to manipulate the little black cloud beastie. She whispered to it like a baby.”

“Whispered?”

That got me thinking. The way witches worked their magic was through frequencies. I often heard auras, as well as saw them. A loud buzz was more like a cry for attention or a high energy emotion whereas a flat, quiet sort of hum was usually someone hiding something. I could tell when my father lied when his aura completely flatlined.

Witches had essentially hacked the frequency of nature and for some reason, I was inexplicably similar to them. I’d put it down to my time with a witch’s soul within me, but now I was clean, I could still manipulate DNA.

“Was Sephie ever able to do that? Commune with nature?” I asked.

“She was nature, love. As are you if you unlock your full potential.”

I slumped. Speaking with familiars could possibly be another facet of my abilities. I wouldn’t be having trouble right now if I had listened to Cash earlier and converted to Seraphim. Instead of staring dumbly at a cawing bird, I could be communicating with it, and finding out where Eve was.

“You want my opinion?” Marc asked.

“I’m sure you’re going to give it to me anyway.”

“Eve knows who you are. She claimed to have deciphered your true nature before anyone else. This could be a test. And if it is, then surely you’re capable of passing it. Trust your instincts.”

“My instincts are telling me that bird has something to say.”

“There you go. Start there.”

I took back my toddler remark. “You know Marc, sometimes you can be very adult.”

He smirked, chuffed. “Like I said before, love. Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold.”

He made a symbolic step backwards, indicating for me to take a turn at whatever it was I intended. A deep breath in and out and I relaxed. I could easily draw in the familiar’s soul and know everything, but I refused to do that. The consequences of soul-eating last time still rattled my cage every time I remembered. There had to be another way. Well, maybe I didn’t need to absorb the soul, maybe I just needed to somehow touch it.

Or, I could try listening harder, see if that worked. First, I’d have to move away from Marc. His godly aura was a little overpowering compared to anything else.

I stepped closer until I was right underneath the bird and craned my neck to view it better. There was still a lot of noise in the area.

“Would you mind stepping further back?” I asked Marc. “Your aura is quite loud.”

He took a giant backwards step onto the small patch of garden grass. “Here?”

“Further.”

Another step. “Here.”

I closed my eyes. “Nope. I can still hear you.”

A crashing sound. Marc cursed under his breath. When I opened my eyes, he was in the garden bed, on his rear end in the middle of a daisy bush.

“Sorry!” I called. “But, that’s good. The energy of the plant life around you seems to have blocked some of your vibe. Don’t move.”

I turned back to the bird who gave a small caw of approval. “Don’t get cheeky, bird. He’ll fry you to kingdom come. Right. What do you want to tell me?”

It squawked.

I locked onto it’s unique signature and was able to filter all else out. The incessant buzz of nature dimmed, Marc’s dynamic energy quieted, and I shut my eyes to hone in on the bird’s energy with razor sharp focus. Its frequency pulsed at me with an odd rhythmic beat, almost like putting my fingers on a pumping audio speaker I couldn’t hear. Or, perhaps, as though I held my fingers to someone’s throat as they spoke. I both felt and heard at once.

There was definitely a message there, a repeated series of patterns.

I made a frustrated groan. “I can’t do it! It’s like trying to read lips with zero experience.”

“You can do it, love. I have faith in you.”

“Argh.” I lashed out at the bird with my sixth sense, hoping to connect somehow with its energy.

Usually, when I sought contact with a being like this, the energy connected to me like a tap being turned on. Life-force flowed unfettered and fast. This time, I turned the tap on slowly and let it trickle then flow around me, and I listened.

“Say it again,” I urged the bird. When it cawed, understanding pecked at my mind. “Almost there.” I inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Again.”

“One in the bush, two in the vineyard.”

“Vineyard?” I opened my eyes. The bird hopped in glee. “You mean my old home?”

It hopped again then gave a short squawk. Instead of an indeterminate sound, I understood in the affirmative. I was right.

Elation lifted me. I grinned and whipped around to face Marc. “I’m right!”

The daisy bush completely camouflaged his body. His head popped up. “I knew you had it in you.”

Chapter 7

We arrived in one of the Urser Estate vineyards, on a sandy path between some vines. I noticed the dying grapes first and the eternal sadness leeching up through my bare feet. Just like the crow, I felt an overwhelming urge to communicate with nature. Under my toes, the thrum of energy had a pulse and a beat. I couldn’t decipher it, but I picked out emotions, none of them good.

I reached out to gather a shriveled grape into my fingers. “It’s a sultana.”

“Yes, it all looks rather neglected,” Marc said.

“Bruce said he would sell the place, but… he obviously hasn’t.” I walked along the path, dodging the gnarled and gangly vines growing wild and free. A sparkle of light caught my attention and I narrowed in on a perfectly formed cobweb, intricate and complex, and perfect. There in the center, waiting for its next meal, was a stunning spider, gently swaying in the breeze. A crow cawed nearby and hopped between skeletal vines, pecking sultanas for food. Usually this time of year, I could walk down these aisles and pluck a juicy grape from the plentiful clusters, but the summer had been harsh and the vines had not been watered. I kept walking and emerged in the small field in front of the manor where even the grass and weeds were drained of color and crisp to walk on. It broke my heart. The Urser Manor loomed on the other side and I swore then and there that I would return. I would bring this place back to its former glory. I wanted to save the planet, but this would be my first step. My baby step.

“Been rather busy trying to take over the world, I suspect,” Marc added.

A sharp surge in energy within the house snapped my attention that way. “Eve. She’s in there and she knows we’re here.”

Marc stopped me by a hand to the shoulder. “I need to tell you something about the witch, love.”

“Okay,” I said hesitantly.

“She said she met you before. Her name is Sabina.”

I gaped. “You mean the nice witch who helped me heal Alvin and Kitty after Petra and the Inquisitor?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know what she did for you, but I can tell you this, she’s a very good liar. Almost had me fooled.”

“That’s unexpected.” I blinked a few times, unsure what to make of it. “Thinking of the way she acted around me—all calm and kind—it’s hard to believe she helped me heal Alvin and Kitty for her own personal gain. She didn’t seem like that kind of person, but I suppose she is a witch. What does she want with me?”

“She wants to go to the Empire. They all do.”

“It’s not the paradise they all think it is. Not when I ran away from it to come here.”

Marc studied me for a minute. “We all have differing ideas about paradise, love. Belief is a funny thing. It can make you survive when all hope is lost, and it can cast you down and do despicable acts. One thing is for sure, it breeds distrust. One man’s god is another’s devil. Go in with both eyes wide open.”

“Once again, you are too smart for me.”

“I like this compliment thing. Keep them coming.”

“Well, I guess we should go and see what she says.”

We walked to the front of the Federation style house and up the porch steps to the door. It was open. We let ourselves in.

From the moment I crossed the threshold, a piercing sense of otherness washed over me. It was more than a startling sense of déja vu. It was the dusty emptiness of a home void of humanity—a skeleton if you will. This was the home I’d spent a good portion of my life in. My sister and I had never gotten along, but she had confessed her wishes for a fresh start right where I stood. She’d come running down the polished mahogany balustrade staircase and shoved her jar of nightmares into my hands. It had been the first step in what I’d hoped was a new beginning for us, but it was the end. That was the last time I’d seen my sister for who she truly was. And then she was gone. Petra possessed her that day.

Why had Eve chosen this place?

To unsettle me, no doubt.

In front of me was the living room. Two brown leather Chesterfields sat facing each other in front of an antique fireplace. The room was flanked on either side by staircases that led up to the second level where the bedrooms were. On the walls, photographs of the ancestors of my birth mother peered down at me. I knew now that she was just a pawn to my father. He claimed to have loved her, but she was only a surrogate to his cause. There were many women around the world he impregnated for the purpose of making soulless Nephilim bodies for our Seraphim souls to inhabit in this insidious Game. The Watchers bred with humans, the Nephilim bred with Nephilim. For a god to take away the chance of having a normal child from a human, like my mother, was horrendous. The more I thought about it, the more it rankled. She thought she was giving birth to new life—a new soul. Instead she got me.

As the queen, I created life on this planet, but I also created the Game which was fast becoming the opposite of life. I’m glad it’s ending.

We followed Eve’s signature into the kitchen where she sat at the table drinking a cup of coffee and toying with her smart phone. She looked the same as the Sabina I remembered. Middle-aged. Slim and in a drab blue dress with a white Peter Pan collar. Kind eyes, short brown hair, and a calming aura that projected trust and peace. The perfect motherly type. I half expected to smell cookies baking in the oven, but I could only smell her rose perfume.

A quick scan of the house, and I knew we were alone.

“Where is my friend?” I asked.

She lifted her head and smiled. I had to remind myself Marc said she was a liar. That calming sense projecting from her aura must be fake. My father could control his aura, she probably could too.

“Good to see you again, Roo.” The kindness dropped from her eyes as she took in Marc. “Gamekeeper.”

“Witch.” Marc rolled his eyes at her and then made his way to the fridge. He opened the door and took a peak inside only to shut it with a screwed up nose. “Disgusting.”

Eve scrutinized me. “I see your aura has changed since I last saw you. I take it you’ve managed to get rid of the extra baggage weighing you down?”

“Let’s get this straight, Sabina… Eve, or whatever your name is. I’m not here to chat. I’m here for my friend. Where is she?”

“I haven’t the foggiest.”

“What?”

“Well, as you can see, she’s not here.”

“But you said if we didn’t come, there would be suffering!”

“I had to get you here somehow, didn’t I. And to be honest, I wasn’t after you, dear. It was your Gamekeeper friend here. He owes me.”

Marc stopped his investigation of the cupboards and turned around. He leant his hip on the kitchen counter top. “So, Little Red’s friend is okay?”

“I assume so. I just stole her phone.”

Marc’s face lit up and he turned to me. “I guess we can get this over quicker than we planned. Do you want to do the honors, or shall I?”

“I want to check that she’s telling the truth first.” I used telekinesis to drag Eve’s phone across the table to my hand. “I’m sure you won’t mind if I borrow this for a minute, since it’s not yours anyway.”

“Be my guest.”

I dialed Alvin’s number. After two rings, he answered.

“Hello?”

“Alvin, it’s me.”

“Who’s me, and why do you have Kitty’s phone? Did you steal it?”

“It’s Roo, you doofus.”

“Roo You-Doofus? Sorry I don’t know a Roo You-Doofus.”

“Alvin!”

A muffled laugh on the other end. “Oh, well, I wouldn’t know what your voice sounds like anymore. Can’t remember the last time I spoke to you as you only seem to have ears for my soon to be wife. Should I be offended you haven’t actually called me?”

“You know we’ve had super secret wedding stuff to talk about.”

There was scuffling and feedback across the line and then Kitty came on. “Babe! You found my phone. I can’t tell you how grateful I am. I totally lost it! The last time I remembered seeing it was when I lent it to that nice nurse about… ahem… never mind. Wait, does that mean you’re in Margs?” Her voice sounded strained with the last words.

“Yes I’m in Margs. Are you okay?”

“I am now. I’m super excited. We can talk wedding plans in person. You can try on the bridesmaid dress!”

“Sounds good. Where are you?”

“At The Cauldron.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon.” I hung up the phone and eyed off Eve. “You didn’t hurt her, why?”

“I told you once, and the fact still stands. We’re not all like that rotten soul, Petra. Some of us are trying to just get along.”

Even though her aura conveyed her words to be true, a niggling feeling in my belly said not to trust her. It could also be the fact Marc stood behind Eve’s back miming “Don’t trust her” over and over.

He walked around so she could see him. “But that’s not the truth, is it Eve? You don’t want to ‘just get along’. You want to go all the way to the Empire.”

She took a deep breath and sat back down. Her finger traced a pattern on the table and her eyes looked inwards. “You know what I want. I have gone as far as I can on this planet. I’ve tried to make peace with the humans, but it’s not enough. They still treat women as second rate beings.”

“Are you for real?” I said. “That’s because you witches invade female bodies! We’d made good headway for women’s liberation before you all waged war on humans, trying to take what you wanted. What did you think they’d let the possessed roam around willy-nilly?”

“I admit, the war was a mistake. Since then, we’ve tried everything in our power to co-exist peacefully. We’ve healed their number one disease. We take only dying hosts and give them a new lease of life. They still treat us as separate.”

“That’s because of witches like Petra.”

Eve flattened her lips and turned away from me to Marc, clearly having had enough of our argument. “I want what you promised.”

“I don’t have to do anything when I can end you right now,” he replied. “If you ask me, all this nonsense can be dealt with by removing the source of the problem.”

Eve’s head snapped up with a scowl. “You made a blood pact with me.”

Marc shrugged and made a show of checking his nails, apparently bored.

Eve looked to me for support. “Tell him I’ve done nothing but help you. I’m not like the others.”

“Why did you lie about your identity?” I asked.

“Because I would’ve scared you off. And because I knew who you truly are. I kept your secret.”

“My secret?”

“Yes, that you’re the queen reincarnated in a Nephilim body. I knew the first moment I laid eyes on you.” She leaned forward in her chair. “Do you want to know how I knew?”

My eyes darted to Marc. Eve’s words must have triggered his curiosity because he stopped inspecting his nails and focused his full attention on the witch.

“I recognized your soul.” Eve cocked her head. “I was one of the first humans you created. Don’t you think a child always remembers her mother?”

I shivered. Gross. “I’m not your mother. And I didn’t create witches.”

“You’re everyone’s mother, dear. And you have the power to give and take it all away.”

“Right, I think that’s quite enough from you, witch.” Marc lifted his hand, his aura crackled with surges of energy.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Eve said calmly. “I have information you need.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Don’t buy into her lies, Roo. She’s full of shite.”

“I know where Urser’s lab is. The exact location,” Eve said.

I gasped and caught Marc’s eyes. “We need to know.”

“Blimey, love. I’m never taking you to a poker game.”

“Where is it?”

“No,” Marc said. “We don’t need her help. We’ll find it anyway. Best to get rid of her now.”

Eve’s aura skipped a beat. It was the first sign of weakness I’d caught from her. Her brows lowered and her eyes darkened in a simmer at Marc. “Why do you hate me so much? What have I ever done to you?”

Marc looked taken aback. He blinked a few times and sputtered. “It’s my job to rid the world of your kind. You’re a danger to the Simons.”

“But me, personally? I haven’t hurt anyone.”

“Now, now, I don’t think that’s quite true.”

Eve’s frown deepened. “Fine. You don’t want to take my word? You want to push my hand? I may not have hurt your friend this time, but it doesn’t mean I don’t have a safeguard in place. I treated her today at the hospital. I had ample opportunity to cast a hex on her. Or maybe I added it all those months ago when I healed her.”

“No,” I whispered. “You haven’t.”

“You’ll never know, will you, and do you really want to take the risk?”

“I say we waste her,” Marc said. “I’m too hungry to put up with her lies anymore.”

“No, Marc. We can’t,” I said. “We can’t risk it.”

“Love, a word. Sidebar.” Marc took hold of my hand and in a flash we stood outside in the vineyard again.

A slight sense of disorientation was all I felt. I must be getting used to the mode of traveling.

“Love, I mean this in the most respectful way, but don’t believe a bloody word she says.”

“I know that, Marc, but the simple fact is that there’s no way of knowing if she’s hexed Kitty or Alvin—but probably Kitty because she treated her at the hospital. Oh God. Why did Kitty need to go to hospital? What isn’t she telling me?” My heart thudded in my chest and suddenly I had trouble breathing. Either one of my friends could be in danger. A hex could turn their insides out, it could give them cancer, it could—

Marc slapped me on the face. “Get a handle on it, woman.”

“Marc!” My palm rose to cover the burn on my cheek. “What the hell?”

“Sorry, love. You were cascading into hysteria.”

“No I wasn’t.”

“You weren’t?”

“No! Maybe. I don’t know. Why did you do that?”

He had the decency to look ashamed. “I saw it on the tele-box. I thought that’s what you do when a woman goes barmy.”

“Remind me not to watch television with you.”

“Um—okay. Right. Don’t tell the hunter. Well then… the hex. There’s no way of knowing if she cast it for sure?”

“Well, I could probably sample some of their blood. It often tastes a little different when it’s been hexed. But with a witch her age and with her experience, she could easily find a way to get around that.”

“Are you saying I actually have to take her to the Empire with me?”

I shrugged. “Did you promise what you’d do with her once you got there?”

His face deadpanned. “No, I didn’t.”

“So, deal with her when she’s there. Entangle her atoms for all I care.”

“Yes, that does sound inviting. Okay, fine. You know I only concede to you, don’t you, love?”

“I don’t deserve it though. I don’t remember the person you think I am.”

He placed a palm on my cheek. “You are who you are.”

A few seconds later and his blue eyes still stared at me. His aura swelled.

“Marc,” I said, awkwardly. “I think we can go now.”

“Right. Right.” He dropped his palm. “That’s what I was thinking.”

“You show us where this lab is, and then remove whatever you’ve done to Kitty and you can go to the Empire. I guarantee it,” I said to Eve back in the kitchen.

She squinted at me as though she knew there was more to it, but in the end, gave a regal nod. “Very well, the lab is in South America.”

“We knew that. Can you be a little more specific?”

“In a jungle.”

“Which jungle.”

“I could tell you, but then my leverage is gone, isn’t it? I’m not stupid. I know there’s something else you aren’t telling me, but for now, it will have to do.”

“Right. Good. We’re all in agreement then,” Marc said, clapping his hands together. “I need a little more information than somewhere in a jungle. Which one, the Amazon is a big place, then there’s the Atlantic, and—”

“My plane leaves for Argentina in five hours. I’ve programmed my travel itinerary into this phone. I’ll meet you there in a day or so. And if you can bring your friend who speaks to animals, that would be best.”

I frowned. “You mean Wren?”

“Yes.”

“Not acceptable,” I said. I wasn’t willing to put any more of my friends in danger. “I could speak well enough to the crow. I’m sure I will suffice.”

Eve’s eyebrow lifted. “You spoke with a familiar, not an animal. We need your friend’s unique skill set, believe me.”

“Why?”

“We have to see a man about a donkey and then the donkey about a man.” And with that, Eve left us.

“Okay, that wasn’t weird,” I said to Marc after I was sure she’d exited the house.

“You’re not wrong there.”

“Well, we know she’s telling some truth. Cash said they’d narrowed down the lab to the Amazon jungle. Hopefully she will take us the rest of the way.”

By the time we figured out how to get the phone and ourselves to The Cauldron, it was half an hour later. In the end, Marc took me through the in-between then went back via cab to collect the phone.

That left me with some private time to reconnect with my friends.

Chapter 8

When I walked into The Cauldron, my old bar and workplace, I didn’t know what to expect. The same, something different, anything at all? It had almost burned to the ground recently but as I stepped beyond the glass doors, I smiled. It was still being renovated, but essentially the same. It even smelled the same—like stale beer but now with an overlay of fresh paint. Witch-themed paraphernalia decorated the walls. Crows, broomsticks, gnarled branches and jack-o-lanterns with flickering candles inside were on the walls. Tables and booths surrounded a dance floor that lit up on a Friday night. It was almost ready for re-opening.

My long time friend wiped the dust off the table at a newly installed booth. Kitty looked completely different from the last time I saw her. She used to have a head full of blue and green mermaid hair, but after being caught in the fire, she now had two-inch, naturally brown hair feathered around her face. Her pouty lips were still bright red, as were her polished nails. She had a subdued nature about her. No longer the wild, sexy strumpet that made all the boys in the bar go crazy with desire. I could be projecting. Maybe she was just bored.

“I’ll have a Brew to Forget, thanks barmaid.” I smirked at Kitty as I walked in.

She looked up, grinned, and rushed over, ditching her dirty wash rag over the bar bench as she came. She gathered me into a hug, suffocating me in her ample bosom.

“Babe, am I glad to see you.” Then as quickly as she pulled me in, she pushed me away with a frown. “But you waited long enough! You’ve been gone for ages.” She peeked over my shoulder. “Where’s that hunky hunter of yours?”

I blushed. “He’s working. But—” I glanced at my empty ring finger. I had left the ring at the castle because it couldn’t travel with me. Thinking of it reminded me of how I used to flick it with my thumb to swing the diamond back to the upside of my finger. The band was too big for my finger, but I didn’t like being parted from the ring for long enough to send it to the jeweler to fix. My thumb gravitated to shift the phantom ring back into the correct alignment. A nervous tick. I missed him.

Kitty caught me eying off my finger.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” she stated simply and lifted an arched eyebrow.

“Cash and I are engaged.”

Kitty squealed. So loud.

I clapped my hands over my ears, but joined her jumping on the spot like a teenager who’d won tickets on the radio.

The swinging scullery door burst open and Alvin jogged out. “Where’s the fire?” he called, extinguisher in his hand, ready to release.

When I first met Alvin, he was a larrikin of epic proportions. His dark skin came from his mixed Phillipino-Australian heritage. He used to be chubby—too much beer—but after Petra had hexed him with aggressive cancer, I’d responded with my own healing hex and told his body to fix himself. I won. He’d woken up fit as a fiddle with a buff body to boot. I was pleased to see he continued to look after himself, or the directives still held.

“Oh, it’s you.” Alvin’s brown eyes met mine and he lowered the extinguisher.

“Alvin!” Kitty admonished. “A little more enthusiasm, please.”

When Alvin glanced at Kitty, it was clear he was head over heals in love. He’d do anything she asked, even pretending to forgive me. His dig earlier at not calling him held a hint of pain.

“I’m sorry, Alvin,” I said. “I owe you both an explanation for why I’ve been so vague about my travels.”

He folded his arms. “You’re in America one minute, Sydney the next. Now you’re in Europe. You haven’t shared much. You’ve spoken to Kitty about the wedding, but not one phone call for you’re old pal, Alvin. That cuts Roo. It cuts.” He tapped his heart. “We get it you’re under the guardianship of a super-secret hunter dude but we worry about you, you know?”

Kitty lifted her brows and nodded. “Babe, I love that you love talking about wedding stuff, but I know you’re distracting me. There's something going on with you and we wish you’d talk to us about it. Is Cash treating you okay? What’s happening with your father?”

I slumped. “Come on. Let’s sit and I’ll talk.”

We gravitated toward an empty booth and I spent the next twenty minutes telling them everything about my last few months over a beer. And I meant everything. If there was any benefit to me being who I was, it was to break the rules for my loved ones. They wouldn’t go and blab to the press. They’d kept my secret when they thought I was a witch, they’d do it now. By the time I finished, they looked like they were going to vomit.

“Get out,” Kitty said, face pale. The tone of her voice sounded like she was kidding, but she had no emotion on her face. For a moment, I considered maybe she really wanted me out, but then she shook her head, eyes wide. “My best friend is a god. Are you freaking kidding us? Are you joking?”

“No.” I bit my lip, kind of shrinking down into the leather bench seat.

“You mean to tell me, my best friend is a god.” She repeated and turned to Alvin. “That’s what she said, right? A god. A freaking god.”

Alvin still stared blankly at me. “You fixed me,” he eventually said. “You were stronger than the strongest witch but you’re not a witch. Holy fuck.”

“Babe.” Understanding dawned in Kitty’s eyes. “You’re not a witch, so you must be something else, but… I never once in my life imagined… wow. Just wow. You’re a god.”

Knots pulled my stomach tight.

“Kitty, she’s not a god. She’s the God. Didn’t you hear her? She’s the one responsible for the creation of our race.” Alvin’s hands clenched around his glass of beer. “I—” He shook his head, dazed. “I don’t know…”

“I always knew God was a girl.”

“Please don’t call me that.” I shook my head. “I’m not the person people pray to. That’s someone else. I’m still Roo, and I don’t have the same kind of skills that she did. I mean, I did. I don’t know because I don’t remember my original life, and I’m still kind of at half-capacity until I purge the human genes from my body in favor of Seraphim, but that’s another story for another day.”

“But, I, you—” Alvin vaguely pointed at my face and then the rest of my body. Then he shook his head again. “Nah, you’re taking the piss, right? You’re joking.”

“Oh, you want some proof?” I asked. When Cash first told me about our origins, I scoffed at him, so their reaction was well warranted. “Marc will be here soon, and then we’ll teleport back home. And if Cash were here, he’s got this light-saber sword thingy and he moves like really fast, like a blur.” I frowned. “I can do a few things, but you already know most of my abilities.”

Alvin started laughing. A real, raucous, belly shaking laugh. “You got me, Roo. Where’s the cameras?”

My heart sank. Had I made a mistake telling them? In a small voice, I replied, “No. I told you already, no. Don’t you trust me?”

“Alvin.” Kitty swatted him repetitively until he calmed down. She turned to me and patted her hair. “Can you still do your magic hair dye thing? I really miss my blue and green.”

All the tension left my body in a burst, causing me to giggle awkwardly. Classic Kitty. I lifted my eyebrows. “I can do one better, I can make it grow back, too!”

Kitty reached across the table to take my hands. “Babe, I’m so glad you’re back. And not because of the hair thing, I really missed you. How long are you staying? For good? We have urgent wedding plans. It’s in a few weeks—oooh, a double wedding?—and also because we can’t find a decent enough replacement for you at the bar, and also I don’t know if you noticed but your old home is falling apart, someone needs to fix it up. It would be a shame for that heritage home to go to waste.” She almost went blue from speaking so much in one breath.

“And the wine,” Alvin added, finally settled.

“Guys, I want that too, like, really want it. You have no idea.”

I spent much of my teenage years picking grapes, tirelessly working those fields to make production schedules. The Merlot would stain my fingers for days, but it was good, honest, simple work. I thought about the big empty house and the land, the vines outside… their cry for attention. My smile faded and the backs of my lids burned with the desire to pack up everything and start now. I wanted to create the life my mother had wanted before my father cruelly took it away by getting her pregnant with me. Maybe that feeling deep in my gut was guilt, because surely I was as much to blame as Bruce. Those photos of her ancestors in the hallway were a reminder of that. They went as far back as a hundred and fifty years, depicting candid family shots taken in the estate, then stopped shortly after I was born. I contemplated my beer. It was almost empty. Marc would be here soon, and that meant my time was up.

“So, Roo?” Kitty broke through my thoughts. “Are you staying long?”

“Kitty,” Alvin said quietly and placed a hand on her shoulder. “She’s not going to come back. She’s a god. She’ll probably be gallivanting around the universe or something. There’s an Empire to rule. Worlds to save. Life to create.”

“Oh no,” I said. “I’m not messing with anything like that ever again.”

“Is that true?” Kitty’s green eyes watered. “Will you go?”

I took a deep breath. “Once we’ve stopped Urser from doing anymore destruction, I plan to come back here. Honestly, I do. I want a simple life with my friends.”

“Hey, I take offense to that. We’re not simple.” Alvin poked his tongue at me.

“Of course not!” I laughed. “You’re the best things in my life. Apart from Cash.”

“And me, love. Don’t forget me.” Marc arrived and walked up to our table. Actually, it was more of a strut. Marc never simply walked. His stride held a confident swagger and complete awareness of his perfect specimen of a masculine body. He’d forgone the recent illusion construct of a polo shirt and pants for tailored khaki shorts and a tight linen shirt, open at the top, showing a taste of tanned and sculptured pecs. He dropped the phone onto the bench and gave my companions a curiousness yet nonchalant once over. He winked at Kitty, then his eyes snagged on the beer. “Having a little drink-poo without me, love? Tsk, tsk. Shame on you.”

Alvin hooked a thumb toward Marc. “This is your god friend?”

“God friend!” Marc turned to me. “What kind of nonsense have you been spouting?”

“It’s okay, Marc. They won’t tell anyone.”

“Love, a word. Sidebar. Again.” He took my forearm and lifted me out of the booth to guide me to the bar. “You know you’re forbidden to reveal our secret to the Simons. I’ll have to send them a dream to wipe their memories. Or kill them.”

“No.” I held up my hand. “They’re fine. Honestly.”

“What if news of you being here gets out? We’ll have every Player and his poodle trying to assassinate you.” He folded his arms. I’d never seen him so serious. “The bloody hunter will have my hide if he knew I let you blab.”

“No one’s going to kill me. Didn’t I make the rules of the Game, anyway?” I asked hesitantly. “I say my friends are trustworthy and they can know.”

Doubt flickered in his eyes.

“Look, Marc. I’m going to convert when I get back, and then I’ll be back to being me—Sephie, or you know. Whoever. The point is, it’s okay. My friends are okay. They kept my witch-like abilities secret for years. They can keep it quiet now.”

He squinted at me, his long lashes darkening his eyes. “You’re not going to do this all the time, are you? Blab to your friends?”

“No, no! Just these two. That’s it. I promise. I don’t have any other human friends, anyway.”

“Well, I suppose you are the queen…”

There was no need to tell him I didn’t intend to stay that way, and I hadn’t figured it out yet, but I wasn’t going back to the Empire, no matter who ordered me home. I wanted here. With my friends. With Cash. Maybe adding a photo or two of my own to the ancestor wall at the Manor. I waited expectantly, a fact he reveled in. My attention locked solely onto his pondering face.

“… and I am hungry,” he continued. “I don’t really have time to clean up a mess if we’re to be fed before Argentina.”

“Did someone say Argentina?” Kitty called from the booth. I swear that girl had hearing like a wolf.

“Someone called me Simon, too. I’m Alvin. Not Simon.”

Marc’s lips parted and I knew he was going to explain the simple thing, so I shoved my hand over his mouth. “Don’t you dare speak.”

He mumbled and I narrowed my eyes, daring him to defy me then finally conceded. He breathed a sigh and nodded. I took my hand away.

“These are my friends, Marc,” I warned. “As you are.”

“Fine. Friends need shots.” Marc rubbed his hands together and ran his gaze over the bottles of spirits behind the bar. “Let’s see, Gin? No. Don’t want to end up with a sad face, now do we? What about Vodka? Ooh. Tequila. Perfect aperitif before hitting up the Amazon.”

“I don’t think we have time for shots, Marc.” I’d promised Cash I would only be a few days.

“Bollocks. The witch hasn’t even hopped on her plane, yet. We’ve got plenty of time.” He pointed at Kitty. “I’ll take five rounds of Tequila Slammers, please, love. With salt. And one of those slices of petite lemons. Five should give me a tickle-buzz, right, love?”

My blank stare just spurred him on.

“Ten. Maybe we need ten with our metabolisms.”

I turned to Kitty and held up a finger. “One.”

Kitty gave Alvin a humorous glance then they both exited the booth, bringing our empty glasses with them. Kitty took her place behind the bar and Alvin stopped by my shoulder.

“You want something to eat, Miss High and Mighty?” he asked. “The kitchen has just been stocked for the reopening on the weekend.” He paused. “You still eat, right?”

“Of course! And, yes, I’d love something. Marc, too. Thank you, Alvin.”

I left them all to get acquainted and stepped outside to update Wren and Cash.

I used Kitty’s phone to call Wren first, because Eve had said we needed her animal speaking abilities. A Donkey. I shook my head at the thought. Seriously, a talking donkey. I hadn’t seen Wren work her animal magic, yet, but I knew she could communicate with them. And what the hell? I had a sudden thought. What if Eve was lying? And this was all some wild goose chase, because, apart from Winnie the Pooh, whoever heard of a talking donkey?

Regardless, I contacted Wren and discovered she had just arrived with Lincoln in South Africa, about to embark on their rescuing of elephants from hunters on safari. Lincoln resented Bruce for keeping him hidden in the underground Ludus for most of his childhood meaning he rarely saw the sky. After hearing Marc’s decree at the Tribunal meeting about the Game almost being over, he was living it up with his girl, visiting the best nature had to offer. It made me smile to think that at least some of his time on this planet was happy, but now I was about to interrupt it. Damn.

When I asked Wren to meet me, she and Lincoln jumped at the chance. Apparently Argentina had one of the best waterfalls in the world. She’d said they could meet us in Buenos Aires in ten hours. That was a few hours sooner than Eve was expected. After I finished making plans with Wren, I called Cash.

He didn’t pick up.

Chapter 9

“We have to go back for Cash,” I said to Marc, who sat at the bar eating salad pieces with a toothpick. “He’s not picking up his phone.”

Marc looked up. “You talking to me, love?”

“Who else?”

He wiped his chin with a napkin. “Not to worry. He’s most likely gallivanting around, showing off the size of his sword and telling some poor sod what to do.”

Could he take nothing seriously? “But he needs to know we’ve found a clue to the lab. He needs to know about things.”

“Despite what the world says about women, you’re not owned by him, love. You can make your own decisions.”

“I know that.” Chagrin warmed my face. “It’s out of respect that I want to keep him informed. Plus, it’s Cash, my soulmate. I don’t want secrets between us.”

He made a gagging sound. “Do you have to get all mushy?”

“It’s not just that, it’s the fact that Eve is a known liar, you said it yourself. What if the danger’s not passed and—”

I stopped talking when Kitty pushed through the scullery doors with a second bowl of salad. I had almost said something about Kitty being used as leverage, but shut my mouth quickly.

“Why don’t you just leave him a message, babe?” Kitty said and handed me a knife and fork.

“You heard that?”

She smirked. “Sound travels in here. Send the text message, then sit down and eat. I’m sure he’ll get back to you.”

At the smell of the food, my stomach cramped in excitement, and my mouth watered. “Good point.”

I fired off a quick text on Kitty’s phone, outlining our travel plans. Cash would need to know more, but for now, that would do.

After our meals, I stole a few minutes out the back with Kitty to begin the restoration process for the return of her blue and green hair. My true purpose was to take a sample of her blood to see if I could detect signs of Eve’s hex. If it was there, I should taste a tingling taint, almost as though I’d placed my tongue on the tip of a battery. Thankfully, Kitty was well versed in the gross process of hex making—I had to mix her DNA with mine then alter it and return it to her body. The process is where all the bewitching horror stories came from—men claiming to have just kissed a woman to be suddenly under her spell.

In the privacy of the small office, I nicked the tip of her finger with a knife, tasted the drop that welled and created a hex in my mouth. Once I had thought of the right words to craft the change in her DNA, I spat some back onto my fingers and rubbed it in her scalp. It was the grossest thing ever, but it worked. Within seconds, her plain mousy brown hair morphed into a mix of turquoise and blue.

“Babe,” Kitty gushed as she checked herself out in her small compact mirror. “It’s perfect.”

“The blue is a little greener this time, but you know, it’s not a precise art.”

“Like I said, it’s perfect.” She rubbed her hand over her short hair and it shimmered like a wave.

“I also added a directive for the hair to grow at three times the speed for the next few weeks, so it would return to shoulder length in no time.”

“Oh my God. Thank you. It will be better for the wedding.”

A small smile tugged my lips. I couldn’t share in her enthusiasm because I did taste something foreign and suspect in her blood. It wasn’t strong, but it was there. Eve could have easily planted a disease in her, or some sort of mind control thread… there were too many unsavory possibilities. That tingle was definitely there. Whether it was an echo of the healing hex Eve had cast on her after the fire, or whether it was something new, I couldn’t tell. Just that it was. The sooner we uncovered Urser’s lab and destroyed it, the sooner we could come back here and keep an eye on Kitty. Then Marc could dump Eve’s soul at the Empire and let them deal with her.

Kitty swiveled on the office chair, knocking over some papers in the tiny room. We both bent to pick them up.

“Now, what about your wedding?” she said, handing me her pile. “You seriously aren’t making plans?”

“Let me get through this trip to Argentina first.” I gathered the paper on my lap and straightened them.

“You’ll be back for our wedding though, right?”

“I know I’ve been flakey lately, but with this, I promise. Wild horses couldn’t keep me away from seeing my two favorite people pledge their love to each other.”

“Babe, you’re my Maid of Honor, remember? You haven’t even seen the dress I picked out for you.“

“You picked out a dress for me?”

“Sure. I know you don’t have much money. What with your father being the spawn of all evil. So, Alvin and I put in and bought you something special.”

“Oh, Kitty, that’s so kind of you.”

“I have a photograph on my phone. You wanna see?”

“Definitely. But show me at the bar. We can’t leave Marc alone with all that alcohol.” I put the stack of papers in my hand on the desk, then turned to leave.

Kitty grabbed my hand, stopping me. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

I met her eyes then looked away immediately. “What do you mean?”

“Uh-uh. Babe, I know you. There’s more to this unexpected visit than just a drop in.”

My jaw clenched and I let the air ease in and out of my lungs. My gorgeous friend. How could I tell her that her life might be in danger?

She tightened her grip on me. “Finding out you’re not who you think you are must be… disorienting to say the least. Are you okay?”

A burn began at the back of my throat. As soon as anyone asks if I’m okay, immediately, I’m not. Why is that? It’s as though I didn’t even know I wasn’t fine until she asked.

“I’m worried, Kitty.”

She didn’t say anything, just watched me.

“I’m worried that I can’t live up to expectations, that I can’t fix everything I broke. People are dying because of me.”

“What did you do?” she asked.

“I created this world, so that means I made the mess it’s in.”

She blinked rapidly and let go of my hand.

For a moment, pain lanced through my heart. She hated me. That must be it. I reached for anything I could grab in the office. A piece of paper from the top of the stack. A draft menu. I picked it up and pretended to read.

“Babe.” Kitty’s hand pushed mine down so I couldn’t see the paper. “Look at me.”

I did.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my time going to church, it’s that God gave us all free will. What we do with our lives is our own business. You can’t blame yourself for people making the wrong choices. You’ll go insane if you do.”

“I know that makes sense, but…”

“No buts.” She stood up and surveyed her well rounded rear. “Seriously, can you do something about this butt?”

I giggled. “I think your butt is fine.”

“That’s more like it. No more sulking, please. The only time you can blame yourself is when you see wrong things happen and you do nothing at all. And that’s not the Roo I know. You'll do nothing on the day you die, right?”

I nodded.

“So, cheer up. We’ve got weddings and parties to think about. Let’s take things as they come and—”

We heard glass break in the bar and someone yelled “Taxi!”

“—You’re right. We shouldn’t have left your friend with the alcohol.”

Chapter 10

We arrived in Buenos Aires on schedule and waited in the airport lobby for Wren and Lincoln.

“There they are,” I said to Marc and waved at the petite couple exiting the arrival gates.

Wren wore a pair of khaki shorts, hiking boots and plain black singlet. Next to her stood a stranger. It was Lincoln, but he looked completely different from the last time I’d seen him. Not only was there a broad smile on his face. His attire was similar to Wren’s: khaki shorts and a linen shirt (inside out of course). They looked very much like a sun-kissed couple fresh from a safari adventure. Guess his time away from Seraphim politics was doing him good.

Lincoln spotted me and waved back.

“Thank you for coming,” I said as they arrived and gave them both a hug.

“Oh, no problems.” Wren smiled. “Like I said, Lincoln’s keen to see the giant waterfalls.”

“Yo sis, wassup?”

“Hi bro. You look snazzy.”

“Snazzy? I look dope, you mean.”

“Cool,so… you don’t mind cutting your holiday short either?”

He shrugged and flicked a glance to Wren. “As long as we’re together, it’s cool. Yeah, so, Iguaza Falls.” Lincoln blushed and pulled out a folded map to study. He found what he was looking for and pointed at it. “See?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Wren added, appreciatively eyeing him off. It was a glance filled with naked emotion and I doubted she thought anyone would notice, but I did. Her aura reached toward him, and even though he wasn’t looking back, his aura reciprocated the attention.

My insides warmed knowing I’d helped put those two together. After we’d escaped the Ludus in Australia and made it safe to the refuge, I made sure the two were placed in the same room as often as I could—I’d even asked Jacine to house them a room apart.

I remembered when I’d first had the inkling they’d make a good pair. It was after a dinner in Urser’s apartment. Both had been too shy and stunted by their mentors to even dare hope there would be a possibility of friendship. Not when they were traded like cards to make new Players and alliances. So glad none of that was happening now. They may be Players, but they had true feelings, and being partnered up to breed against your will was a gross violation of basic rights. Yet another thing that was indirectly related to the choices I had made as Queen. When I questioned Marc about it once, he’d replied with, It was the only way to prevent war. And it worked. But since I’d become a recluse soon after the Game began, I didn’t think I was happy about it, even then.

Wren and Lincoln discovering their feelings for each other was the only good thing I could say that came of dinner with Urser.

“So, Roo,” Wren asked, “where are we headed first and”—she looked around me—“you’re alone?”

I checked over my shoulder for Marc. He’d disappeared the second they arrived. He hated standing still for long, always claimed to get antsy with the need to move to another location. I always thought he just liked to make an entrance, but he swore it’s something to do with his restless atoms. Probably just picking up some chick in the airport bar.

“Marc’s disappeared, and we don’t have to meet Eve for another few hours so, yes, I’m alone.”

“Where’s Cash?” Lincoln frowned, adjusting his backpack to his alternate shoulder.

“Oh, thanks for reminding me. Can I please use your phone, Lincoln? I need to contact him and let him know we’ve arrived.” This no phone business was really becoming an issue. Telepathic powers would be good right about now.

Lincoln pulled his phone from his backpack and handed it to me. I punched in Cash’s number and dialed.

It went straight through to message bank.

Damn it, missed him again. I left him a message updating our progress. There was a Cash-shaped gap in my heart that grew with each passing hour we were apart. I knew I told him I didn’t need him to protect me, but maybe I wanted him with me. His touch, his lips, his embrace. I was such a goner.

I loved it.

To my complete annoyance, Marc didn’t return to us for another few hours. We’d eventually gotten tired of waiting and settled at the airport café to replenish our energy with coffee and cake. Despite working on calming them down, my nerves amped up—I supposed the coffee didn’t help. Tea would’ve been better, but Marc wasn’t here to correct me and I was ready to put out a missing person’s report. When I finally spotted the King of Swagger walking toward us, my nails were chewed down to the wicks.

“Where have you been, Marc?” I asked. “Eve will be here soon and we haven’t had a chance to debrief.”

“Settle down, love. You didn’t need me here for that. I assume you’ve already done a bang-up job.” He turned to Wren and Lincoln, who had half fallen asleep on some chairs. “Am I right?”

Wren rubbed her eyes. “Yep. She’s told us everything.”

“That’s not the point, Marc. You better not have been picking up some girl in the bar while we’ve been waiting for you.”

He frowned at me. “I’m not a complete degenerate, love. I was doing research.”

“You were? What kind?”

“Well, I popped into a few of the local—ahem—bars and asked if anyone knew about there being any new manufacturing plants set up recently near a jungle.”

“And?”

“Well, it just so happens there were zero sightings of muchacho canche, not enough to concern us, anyway.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“Blond men.”

“Why would you ask that?”

“It would be a sign of Urser’s henchmen if they’re Nephilim.”

“Clever.”

“Of course.”

“So, did you find anything.”

“Nada,” Marc said. “He must be using locals or we’re in the wrong place.”

Lincoln straightened. “Didn’t Eve say the lab was in a jungle somewhere?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Well, there are no jungles near here. We’re way too far south. Like opposite end of the continent south.”

I rubbed my temples. “That’s not good. Not good. I can’t believe we didn’t realize that. Maybe Eve is lying after all.”

“I’m not lying.” Eve had arrived. She too was dressed in explorer attire. Shorts, a linen shirt and hiking boots. I felt slightly overdressed in my denim-construct jeans and blouse, but then again, so did Marc in his carefully constructed tweed, three piece suit. “We have to catch a connecting flight to Padre Aldimz,” Eve continued. “We have twenty minutes till boarding time.”

Marc gasped and slapped his hand to his chest, offended. “I don’t fly.”

“To the Amazon?” Lincoln asked, wide eyed.

“Yes. We land in a place called Peurto Maldonado.”

At the mention of the town, Marc became very still.

“From there,” Eve continued, “I have a man who will meet us and take us to the donkey.”

Marc rolled his eyes. “First off, I’ll meet you there. Second, I’ll wager I can find out where this lab is before you have a chance to speak to the donkey. In fact, I’ll be able to deduce the location before your plane arrives.” He snorted and mumbled under his breath: “Simpleton.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Eve smirked. “The donkey is the only living animal who survived returning from the Bay of Skulls. It’s the only living thing who would remember how to get back there. That’s why we need your friend.” Eve’s eyes landed on Wren.

“You think Wren can get more sense out of the donkey?” I asked.

“Yes. We know the lab is somewhere around the Bay of Skulls, but can’t pinpoint the location. I heard Wren has a remarkable talent deciphering the fractured thoughts of animals.”

Wren blushed. “Yes, well there’s a trick to it, you see—”

“Witch, you’re on.” Marc interrupted and flared his eyes at Eve. “I win: No more Empire for you.”

Eve laughed, her kind round eyes full of mirth. “What are we talking about again?”

“I’ll find the lab before you, of course, and when I do, our Empire deal is off.”

“And when you fail? You’ll let me taste your blood, god.”

Marc squinted at her, his lips pressed white. “Deal.” He spat in his palm and held it out for Eve to shake. “Looks like things just got interesting.”

“They weren’t enough already?” I blanched.

“Not nearly.” Marc glanced at me. “Are you coming with me, or taking the boring route. The race is on.”

Panic gripped my heart. My eyes darted between my friends, the witch who blackmailed us, and the god who I wasn’t sure I should leave on his own.

“Go on,” Wren said. “We’ll be fine.”

“Yep.” Lincoln placed a hand on Wren’s shoulder. “See you in a few, sis.”

“I suppose there’s nothing for it then. We’ll head to Peurto Maldonado and meet you there.”

Marc tugged me close and brazenly took us through the in-between while standing in full view of the public and cameras.

Chapter 11

We arrived in the jungle and hot life punched me in the face. Energy rolled over my body like a bucket of steaming water. It took me a moment to adjust. I inhaled sharply, pulling away from Marc to see better.

Our sudden arrival had caused a flurry of action above us. When I looked up, I caught glimpses of red, green and blue as a flock of macaws flew away through the dense vegetation. Monkeys called from the trees, alerting each other to the presence of intruders. A buzzing sound emitted all around me. It took me a while to distinguish the buzz of insects from the frequency of nature’s life-force I sensed. One giant aura surrounded me. It was amazing. I’d never seen, or felt, so much wonder.

And—

A sting on my right thigh.

I slapped the skin on instinct.

Mosquito.

“Damn it.” I inspected my hand and the blood smeared over it and gasped. The little buzz of life snuffed out because of me. “Oh no! I killed it.”

“Not to worry, love. It’s only a pest. Follow me.” Marc turned on his nude heels and pushed some ferns out of the way before plunging further into the deep forest.

His potent aura emitted a frequency I could track. I tried to cover my private bits with my hands, but every five-seconds, found myself shooing the mosquitos away.

Sting.

I shooed.

Bite.

Double shoo.

“Come on bugs. I get that you’re trying to have your dinner, but please don’t use me.”

I don’t think they heard.

I jogged through the jungle, trailing Marc’s energy signature. The floor was muddy and soggy and, with each step, the delicious earth squelched through my toes. It made me tingle and giggle in delight. I couldn’t believe it had taken me this long to visit a jungle. I could’ve sworn I heard the overgrown vegetation sigh as I ran past. A monkey sound came from right above me, loud and crystal clear. I jolted. My hand slipped on the branch I held and it swung back.

Whack. Right in the face.

“Goddamn it, Marc.” I moved the offending branch. Big mistake. Something long, green and slimy shook loose.

Snake.

Air solidified in my lungs as the writhing object landed with a thud near my feet. It didn’t move. I didn’t move. We watched each other. We stared. I sensed its tiny life pulse gently within its body and I held my breath while I waited to see what it would do.

“Don’t be afraid,” I whispered. Slowly, I crouched, never taking my eyes from it. I held out my hand. “I’m sorry I disturbed your resting place.”

The green snake’s tongue forked out again then it slithered into the undergrowth.

“Wow,” I whispered, then—sting. I whined. Mosquito got me on my stomach this time. It took me two minutes too long to realize I could alter my internal biological makeup to repel mosquitos. As quickly as I could, I plucked a leaf from a nearby plant, popped it in my mouth and chewed, all the while focusing inwards, urging my body to alter the smell of my sweat to match the scent of the plant. I didn’t know if it would work, but it was worth a shot. As long as the mosquitoes didn’t think I was a tasty human, I’d be all right. After a brief feeling of ghostly ants crawling over my skin, the hex came into effect and I chased after Marc.

So consumed with thoughts of beating the mosquitoes without actually killing them, I barely noticed I had broken through the jungle and into an evergreen clearing in front of a wooden and thatched bungalow. Bungalow was the wrong word. It was a series of bungalows stuck together to make a mega-bungalow. On one side, a wooden platform lay open wide with a white wicker table and chairs. To the rear, the platform extended to another area that had a series of empty hammocks dangling from rafters. I caught a glimpse of a lagoon with mini waterfall trickling down some rocks into the pool. I’d bet my bike that beautiful water would calm my hot skin and I died to jump in.

I returned my gaze to the front of the bungalow where mesh blinds separated me from the interior, no doubt in place to keep the mosquito and insect life out. The blinds rose up to a tapered ceiling, and then up and beyond to a balcony I guessed might be the main bedroom. “Marc?” I called out. He was up there somewhere, I could sense him.

The balcony screen door opened. He popped his head out. “In here, love.” Then he disappeared into the bowels of the house.

For modesty, I ripped off a giant fern frond—apologized to the fern for breaking it—and then used it to cover my nudity. I walked up the wooden steps to the veranda and let myself in.

The interior was just as exotic as the outside. A raked ceiling with exposed rafters, cool tiled floors, and carved wooden furniture. I located the staircase and went up a level. The room I entered was a bedroom, like I’d guessed. White linen on a king sized bed, mosquito nets hanging from the ceiling, cushions everywhere, and Marc raiding a wardrobe on the right.

He wore gray, lightweight pants and had a bare torso.

He yanked a group of clothes from the cupboard, picked a white, long sleeved shirt and held it out to me. “This might fit you.” Then he returned to his rummaging.

“What are we doing” I asked. “Why don’t you just cover us with illusion?”

“Because, love, we’re in the jungle. It’s hot, damp, dirty and sweaty. It’s a biological Molotov cocktail that leaves the construct either chafing or disintegrating.”

“Oh.” I slipped the white gauze shirt over my head. It came to mid thigh.

Marc slipped a similar shirt over his muscular frame. He slid on some hiking boots.

“They fit.” I marveled. “Are we in your house, Marc?”

He grinned and winked at me and instantly I remembered how still he became when Eve named the town we were to travel too. Cheeky bugger.

“My home away from home. That witch think’s she’s got one over me, but she’s got another thing coming.”

“Don’t you think it’s a coincidence that Urser’s lab is around here, and you have a house here?”

“No. I have many homes. Too many to count, but this one in particular is in this part of the world for a reason. As soon as the bloody witch mentioned Peurto Maldonado, I knew exactly where Urser’s lab would be.”

“You did? Why?”

“You know how we’ve spoken of the star-gate that connects this world to the Empire? The portal?”

A cold feeling settled in my bones. “It’s nearby, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “And if Urser has set up shop here, then it’s clear he’s planning to bring his army of darklings back to the Empire. It must be very close. The gate is in walking distance.”

“I thought they didn’t have the key to open it.”

He gave me a sad look. “You’re the key, love.”

“I’m not fully Seraphim, though.”

“It may not matter. When you were under the control of that witch, she tasted the vial of your original blood from the Empire.”

“I remember, it tingled and felt… right.”

“And if she tasted it, you’ve tasted it. You may already be going through some sort of transformation. It might be all that is needed for the gate to recognize your biometric signature… then there’s the hunter.”

I thought of how Cash was able to convert to Seraphim using the blood of the queen, and how he wanted me to do the same using his blood. “He’s my soulmate… his blood is linked to mine, right?”

“Correct.”

“So his blood might open the gate too. Cash could be in danger.”

“Right. We need to get going.”

“What about the rest of me? I need pants and boots.”

“Hmm.” Marc stared at his wardrobe. “I don’t have female clothing.”

“That’s not something I thought you’d lack with all your lady visitors.”

“Well, we’re all usually naked here, love. And the housekeeper isn’t here, so I can’t borrow her clothes for you.”

“And I spoke too soon.”

“There’s a small village nearby, we can find you something. We have to be quick.”

My eyes widened. “But I need pants before going to the village.”

He found a light cotton sheet and tossed it to me. “Use that like a sarong.”

I twisted it through my legs and used the corners of the sheet to wrap around my middle. I was left with a version of flowing harem pants. Marc helped tie it off at the back.

“There you go, love. All better. Let’s go.” Marc rushed downstairs. A door opened on squeaky springs, then slammed. I followed him, shaking my head. A few seconds later, I heard an engine roar to life. Nearing the sound, I came to a door that led to a garage. Marc sat on an ATV, grinning, patting the seat.

“Get on.”

“Oooh.”

“It’s got four wheels instead of two, but I knew you’d like it. Come on. Chop, chop.”

I hesitated.

He waved at the sheet around my waist. “Just gather the sheet-pants up and keep it out of the wheels. There’s also a poncho in the compartment back there if you don’t like the rain. You’ll be fine.”

“No, it’s just that… I usually drive. Can I? Please?”

“I was counting on it.”

“Really?”

“You don’t think I actually know how to work one of these contraptions, do you? Starting it was hard enough.”

“I suppose not. I haven’t ridden one of these since the vineyard, but it’s like riding a bike, right?” I laughed.

I hitched up my sheet-pants to straddle the ATV before him. In no time we were roaring out of the shelter and onto a muddy path, heading back into the jungle.

Chapter 12

I drove like a bat out of hell. Marc directed me by tapping me on a shoulder. Right to go right, left to go left. Through muddy lanes and dirt tracks only the locals would know, around fallen forest debris and, within moments, we found ourselves out of the jungle and near a village. Clusters of huts lined up in sporadic rows, with locals milling about their day, the sound of chatter and laughter everywhere.

The sky was beginning to darken. I wasn’t sure if it was caused by the encroaching night, or if a storm was coming. Since we’d landed at the airport, I’d lost concept of time. Skipping through the in-between had thrown me completely off. I now understood why Marc was always so flighty with time management.

A rumble in the sky answered my question for me. A storm. The rain held off, but the air was thick with potential downfall, and a drizzle misted the air leaving my skin damp and sticky. The mud coating my legs didn’t help, but I was pleased to say I had zero mosquito interactions meaning my homemade and cruelty free insect repellant worked a treat.

We drove further into town, almost running over a group of scrappily dressed teenagers who’d come to the street to point and smile at Marc and his blond hair.

The instant I got off the bike, Marc pushed some cash into my hand. “There’s a street market over there. You can find boots etcetera. I’ll start my investigation over there.” He pointed to hut that looked fairly similar to the rest of them.

“A bar?”

“A tourist bureau.”

“Right.”

“And then I might have to go up to the local village leader’s house down the way. Won’t be long. You know how to call me if you need me.”

“You mean say your true name?”

He didn’t wait for me to finish and walked away.

I guessed that was a yes, then. I glanced at the wad of cash in my hand and had no idea what the notes equated to in Australian or American dollars. Nevertheless, I squelched through the mud street in the direction Marc had pointed, all the while smiling confidently at the stares pointed my way and hoping no one was going to mug this obvious tourist. Strangely, I was having too much fun to care. After a while, most people ignored me and turned back to their tasks.

It wasn’t hard to find the market. I rounded a corner and there were many tables set up with canopies overhead to protect from the rain. Piles of goods were stacked high, almost toppling over. The din of conversation amplified and merged with the bleating and grunting livestock further beyond the tents. One vendor had fruit and vegetables, another had brightly colored folded up fabric. The latter was the best place to start for clothing.

I smiled as I approached a middle-aged woman standing behind a table. She had wrinkled brown skin, dark straight hair and crinkles around her eyes. Sitting next to her, whittling a small piece of wood was an old man. The woman slapped him over the head as I drew near. Could be her father, or an older husband. From the feel of their intertwined auras, they were definitely linked somehow. It was sweet. She folded and refolded items of brightly colored clothing as she continued to speak to the man. Pinks, reds, yellows, blues. Dull wasn’t a word I’d use to describe this authentic Peruvian stall.

“Excuse me,” I said as I approached. “Do you sell shoes?”

She froze, taking me in, hands hovering on a striped poncho.

The old man kept whittling. Then he noticed the woman’s lack of voice. He leant to the side, out of the shelter of the fabric stacks and spotted me. His eyes widened and he said something in a tone of awe. The woman responded in another language and smacked him over the head again. Both their eyes ran over me with curiosity. The woman shook her head, then straightened herself. She spoke to me, but I couldn’t understand a word.

“Um, no hablas español.” I pointed at my feet. “Shoes?”

She smiled, clapped her hands, and nodded then said, “El zapato.”

The man gave me a toothless grin, lifted his bare foot and then pointed at his gnarled toenails. “No necesito zapatos.”

“Um.” Was he asking me to buy him shoes?

The woman shook her head and grinned some more. I loved how the wrinkles around her eyes deepened. She pulled out a series of boxes from under the table. After some more language wrangling, I managed to find some pants similar to Marc’s. I was just paying the lady when a group of teenage boys came running up.

One of them pointed a camera-phone at me and took a snap. A flash illuminated the undercover area and my eyes went momentarily blind.

No reception my ass, I thought. That was definitely a phone. Marc just didn’t want me holding him up. The old woman reprimanded the boys, who were laughing and snickering and pointing at the phone screen—probably making fun of my sarong. Seeing my disapproving stare, the woman beckoned the offending boy over and confiscated his phone, cursing and shaking her fist at him.

“How much for the phone?” I asked, holding out a few bills of cash.

The woman’s eyebrows went up. She held up her phone questioningly.

I nodded. “Yes, the phone.”

“Oh, no, no, no.” She shook her hands in front of her face. “No sale.”

I returned the bills to the roll of cash and then held out the entire roll. “Please?”

Her eyes widened and I enticed her further by wiggling the roll.

She snatched the whittled statue of a macaw from the old man and showed it to me, making lots of cooing noises and urging me to buy it instead.

“It’s very nice, thank you. But I’d like the phone. Please?” I pointed again.

She conceded and handed it to me.

“Thank you, thank you,” I said, smiling and clasping my hands together at my front.

The woman gave me my package, and threw in a pair of socks and a touristy red and pink Peruvian shirt. She clicked her tongue and grimaced at my attire, then grinned and directed me to a small hut nearby. She must want me to change into my new outfit. I smiled and thanked the two of them again.

The hut was a little dingy and dark, but it had a mirror. I nudged myself into the room and almost dropped my package when I saw my reflection. My hair had plastered to my face from the drizzle of rain, but that wasn’t the worst thing. I knew why those boys were snickering. My white linen top had gone see-through in the wet.

I slapped my palm on my face, heat flushing my cheeks. No wonder the woman threw in another top for me. How embarrassing. I took a deep breath, changed into my new outfit and pulled out the phone. It was a satellite phone.

Immediately, I dialed Cash.

He picked up.

“Who is this?” His voice came out gruff.

“It’s me,” I said, smiling. “Roo.”

“Christ, Roo. Where are you?”

“Didn’t you get my messages?”

“Yes, but I was on a plane. I’m in Houston. Where are you now? Please tell me you’re still at the airport. I can book you a flight here.”

“I’m in some village in a jungle. We’re following a lead to find Urser’s lab—get this, the star-gate is somewhere here. Marc said it was within walking distance from his bungalow.” I filled him in on what had happened, and how our plans had derailed when Eve blackmailed us, and how now Marc was trying to beat her at her own game by finding the location of the lab before she did.

After I finished relating the tale, the line muffled as though he covered the phone with his hand. I swore I heard him let loose a string of curses.

When he returned to the phone, his words came out slow and measured. “You are to stay put and wait for me and my team. Send me your GPS coordinates. You said it was a satellite phone? There’s an app in there that should tell you your location.”

“Cash, we’ll be fine. I didn’t call you so you could rescue me. I just thought you might be worried. We’re not here to engage or anything. Just getting a location of the lab. Then we’ll come back and hand over the details so you and your crew can go in and do your thing.”

His voice turned deathly dark. “Marc’s antics in Buenos Aires Airport were broadcast on the internet. People know where you are.”

“He was caught on camera dematerializing?” Unease unfurled in my stomach. “But I’m not there now.”

“All you need is for one more slip and Players from around the globe will be coming for you. Worse, Urser gets wind of you being so close to his base of operations and his entire darkling army descend. Stay put. Stay out of range of cameras and—”

I made a choking sound.

“—Roo? Are you there?”

“Yes, I…”

“What is it?”

“These kids took a photo of me and, hang-on”—I brought the phone down from my ear—“let me check something.”

I scrolled through the open apps on the phone. There was no way they’d uploaded the photo of me. The data bandwidth here was probably non-existent. My heart leapt into my throat. There it was.

A photo of me. Slightly see-through top.

Posted online. Geo-tagged.

“Oh my God.”

“Roo?” Cash’s urgent voice punched through the phone speaker. “What?”

I put it back to my burning ear. “I think it’s too late. Search: Chica mojada hace Perú online.”

The silence was worse than Cash’s wrath. Nothing came down the phone at all but perhaps my imagined sense of his heavy breathing, bulging forehead veins and steam blowing out of his ears.

“Let me speak to Marc,” he finally asked.

“Cash—”

“Put. Marc. On.”

“Okay, okay.”

I wedged the phone between my shoulder and ear, gathered my old clothes and nudged the hut door open with my hip. Marc couldn’t have gone too far.

When I stumbled out and into the mud, I found myself surrounded by a group of men wearing black ski-masks pointing automatic rifles at my face.

Chapter 13

At least ten men surrounded me. On further inspection, some of them could’ve been women. All had wiry, malnourished shapes and desperate eyes peering from behind crudely cut holes in black masks. No, they weren’t ski-masks, but black strips of fabric wrapped around their heads like sinister mummies. A few of them had Kevlar vests over their dirty clothes. Each had an automatic weapon of some kind. Some had machetes, and one man… he had a white, hand-painted skull and crossbones on his vest. With a guttural voice, he barked an order to the men at his right. Two of them stepped forward and grabbed my upper arms, dragging me forward.

I lost control of my package. It dropped to the floor, including the phone. They pulled me forward and my legs dragged in the mud behind me.

My heart kicked in my chest. Wildly I looked around for Marc.

He wasn’t there.

They dragged me over fallen stacks of colorful clothing. The old woman who’d served me was gone. The toothless man was no longer there. The naughty teenagers were gone. Even the animals in the forest seemed to have run off in fear. Silence had descended over the market. Oh God. Was that blood on the canvas ceiling? A fine mist of red arced in a line, as though someone’s artery had been hit and a macabre impressionist had painted on the roof. The closer I peered, the more red splashes and smears I found. Behind, at the fruit and vegetable stand. Further along, the livestock… dead. It was then I noticed the blood dripping from the machetes of the soldiers. No.

My heart refused to comprehend the sight before me.

No.

Then I saw two small, dirty feet with gnarled toenails sticking out from underneath the market stall.

“What have you done?” I screamed and kicked behind me, twisting and writhing to get a foothold. I gathered the life-force blistering from my captors and pulled it into me, until I filled to the brink.

And then agony lanced the back of my head. I blacked out.

I came to in the back of a Jeep bouncing along a path as it drove deep into the jungle. Well, that’s what I surmised. I had no idea of our location, except to see endless forest and gray sky whipping past at frightening speed.

It seemed I was in the roofless trunk of the car. Every bump and divot caused my body to jostle and hit the sides. I caught glimpses of the backs of guards in the seat in front. They hadn’t noticed me coming to. Quickly, I assessed my situation. My feet and hands were bound together in a hog tie, and I had a dirty rag stuffed into my mouth, tied in place. It tasted like chemicals and inhaling the sickly sweet smell made me woozy. Must be drenched with a drug of some kind to keep me docile, or asleep. On another whiff, my eyes and my brain rolled and I gagged. My sluggish body refused to do my bidding. Energy was beyond my reach. Everything felt heavy, but one thought stabbed through the mist: Say Marc’s true name, and he’ll know which direction they took me. He would come for me.

If he was alive.

“Egnatius,” I tried to say, but it came out a garbled mess through the mouth gag.

The two guards heard my sound and turned. They said something in Spanish to each other. One of them jabbed my head with the butt of his gun. Pain lanced but I didn’t pass out. My body worked overtime to heal. They hit me again. This time, I felt something crack in my skull and oblivion swallowed me whole.

* * *

When my eyes opened, it felt as though I’d been asleep for a long time. Lethargy coated my bones like chains and dragged me down. It was an effort to breathe, and pain still throbbed at my temple. Gingerly, I raised my fingers, testing, half expecting half my head to be caved in. I couldn’t move.

Still hog tied.

A chemically soaked rag covered my mouth.

I blinked and took a moment to let my situation soak in.

The scent had dimmed. Must be why I’ve come awake. It was drying out and weakening. That and my wounds had healed, hopefully.

If my captors were human, they wouldn’t expect me to be awake. If they weren’t human… they could be coming any minute.

I forced myself to focus on the rag in my mouth. Telekinesis worked via an extension of energy, and all I had to do was form it into a thin, sharp line to cut like a blade. I sent it from my mouth, outward. Easier said than done. It took me a total of twenty-six tries before I was able to get it to work. The rag sliced in two and fell from my face. I gulped in air then gagged at the rank, sour atmosphere. Quickly, I sliced my bonds apart and released my hands and feet. My head throbbed. I tested the wound site at the back of my crown with gentle fingers.

I hissed. Definitely a lump. It was hard, sore and a lot better than I expected. No crushed bones, at least, not anymore.

I flexed my fingers, free of constraints. Fat load of good that did me. A quick survey of my surroundings had me placed in a small, plain wooden room that smelled like urine and defecation. The only source of light came from cracks under the ramshackle door. The room appeared empty, no other life-sources with me, only the shadow of a disgusting metal pot in the corner. I could only imagine what that was used for. The foul smell curled my nose.

Focus, Roo. Focus. Survive.

I covered my mouth and closed my eyes, intending to send my senses out for reconnaissance, but flashes of the bloody village hit me and a cry of anguish ripped from my soul. Those people. The animals. The entire village—all gone. It was my fault because surely they were after me. Shame washed over me. I came here, thinking I could help, and it cost these people their lives. Time to get out of here. Cash was right; I should’ve stayed at the refuge.

I squeezed the tears away, wiped my eyes and tried again. I sent my awareness beyond the confines of the hut. Wherever I was, so were about twenty other people. My guess was they were the soldiers who took me. But were they Player, human, or did they work for Urser?

Anger churned. If they worked for Urser, if they damned well brutalized the village on his orders… My eyes burned. My chest ached. I thought of the old couple who’d helped me. The muddy feet poking out from behind their table. The ache spread and my throat closed up.

The whittled macaw rocking gently on the floor.

My hands curled into fists.

They would pay for this.

The way the soldiers had taken me, leaving no survivors as witnesses, suggested my existence was to be kept secret which meant my captors were under the control of a Player, or even Urser. Normal humans wouldn’t give a damn if the general public knew I was here. It had to be like Cash said; Players saw Marc’s antics online, then linked the photo of me and had come to finish me off. Another assassination attempt to score them evolutionary points for being the fittest in this game of survival.

Already a part of me linked to the energy signatures outside. I extended that reach to connect wholly with my surroundings. Nature reacted to my call, quivering on a plucked string. Life teamed down the live wire I’d sent out. It slid down the line until it leached into me. With my soul supercharged, my awareness grew. I could hear birds cawing in the trees, frogs croaking, insects chirping… and something else.

Souls. All kinds of souls—many with the gritty taint I’d come to expect from darklings or witches. They were gathered close by.

One split from the group and headed my way. Direct and with purpose. Human.

I hesitated.

I had to be smart. Why obliterate these people if it made me just as bad as them, plus they could lead me to the instigator… to Urser.

As the person arrived outside my hut, I powered down.

“Egnatius,” I said quickly and then the door to the hut opened, flashing me with blinding light.

Chapter 14

“You’re awake,” came a deep gruff voice.

I shielded my eyes.

“How did you get free?”

I dropped my hand and my vision took a moment to adjust.

It was the leader of the group, the one with the white skull and crossbones painted on his Kevlar vest. A single drop of red had landed under one eye of the skull like a bloody tear. His mummy mask had been removed to reveal his face. Matted black hair hung around his head and came to his collarbones. He had olive pock-marked skin, a handlebar mustache, and a white puckered scar running down one side of his face and through one white eye. The other brown eye glared.

I wanted him angry. Angry people made mistakes. “I can see why you wear the mask.” I indicated to his face. “Someone got hit with the ugly stick.”

His fist struck me on the cheek and numbing pain exploded.

I tasted blood in my mouth and spat at his feet. “What do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

He grunted and grabbed a fistful of my hair. He yanked and pulled me out of the hut so fast I toppled into the mud at his feet. Rain splattered next to my hands, pooling around my fingers. I bit my lip to stop myself retaliating. I had to keep him angry. If he remembered I wasn’t drugged, he’d put the gag back on, and then I’d be weak.

I’d end him first.

He kicked me in the gut, knocking the wind out of me. While I wheezed and gathered my breath, I checked my environment, looking for Marc. He wasn’t here. The rain came down heavier than before, but I could see more huts. More importantly, there were solid brick buildings that looked completely out of place in the Amazon jungle. From within them, I sensed a multitude of souls, including some larger, more virulent souls. Seraphim, or Nephilim. Must be.

“Get up,” the soldier said.

When I didn’t move, he kicked me in the face. I coughed blood onto the mud and tried again to whisper Marc’s true name again, but the swelling in my lips made it warble. It sounded more like Neeshus than Egnatius. I winced. If he didn’t show up soon, I was on my own.

First, I needed to know where Urser was. Then I would obliterate this compound.

“I said, get up, you filthy whore.” He kicked my side.

I saw stars and spluttered, then laughed, rolling onto my back. “You kissh yo moffer wif dat filshy mouf?”

“What?” he crouched down to my level. “Speak clearly, whore.”

I swallowed. Took a breath and allowed my body to heal. The pain in my lips lessened, itching as cells knitted together. The man’s eyes were glued to my mouth, no doubt watching the phenomenon of Nephilim healing before his eyes. Part horrified, part fascinated, he straightened.

“I said,” I wheezed, “you kiss your mother with that filthy mouth?”

He pulled a knife from his belt and slammed the blade into my shoulder, pinning me to the ground.

“Ah, Jesus.” Agony clouded my mind and I squeezed my eyes shut while I managed the pain. When I could breathe again, I opened my eyes and stared him down. “I’m surprised you even have a mother,” I continued. “With a face like that, my bet is you spawned from a snake.”

He growled and twisted the knife by the hilt, burying the blade deeper into my flesh. My scream ended in a stilted choke.

“If it weren’t for the money, I’d kill you right now,” he said and yanked the knife out. He wiped the knife clean on his thigh.

My eyes narrowed. So he was a mercenary for hire. Human, too. Seeing him wipe my blood on his thigh gave me an idea—I could hex him. I just needed to get my hexed DNA into him. The blood on his thigh had no directive in it, and it wasn’t anywhere near his skin or mouth.

While I scrambled to my feet, I formulated a hex in my mind, repeating words until all I thought of instructions to implant in his body. While I thought, I bit my lip and let blood pool with saliva in my mouth. I spat in his face.

My pink saliva landed on his cheek, ricocheting into his exposed eye. He squinted and recoiled then wiped it with the back of his palm. But it was in his eye. That was as good as getting it in his mouth or straight into his blood system. Hopefully the rain didn’t wash too much away before the hex had a chance to mesh with his biology.

He yelled out to some companions I couldn’t see.

Someone with rough hands lifted me from behind, under the arms. Initially, I resisted. I scratched at their fingers to pry them off. Curses spat from their mouths but, before they retaliated, I made myself go limp and dangle, compliant. It wasn’t hard. My stab wound still hurt. An injury like that would take time to heal. Plus I needed a moment to arm myself with my second hex. I stared down at my palms and willed the skin open to reveal red flesh underneath and repeated my directive in my mind. I held my bleeding palms to their scratched fingers under my armpits. The hex passed unchallenged and I waited for evidence it had worked.

“Vámonos.” The one-eyed leader indicated for the men to follow him and walked toward the brick structure.

The building was two stories high and completely sheltered by trees, hidden from any satellite or drone trying to pick up new buildings. No wonder Cash had a hard time isolating the complex. It was modern which led me to believe it had been built recently. Briefly, I considered breaking free using telekinesis, but as we grew closer, I recognized some of the energy signatures inside. Urser was there. I frowned. That can’t be right. I sensed other, more familiar signatures: Wren, Lincoln, and another coming toward me.

The double doors opened in unison, splitting in the middle to reveal Eve on the other side, one hand on either door handle, holding it wide.

The sinister smile warping her features told me all I needed to know.

I shrugged the soldiers off to stand tall. They complied, as I knew they would. The hex had them in my control, waiting for my orders.

“You sold us out,” I said to Eve.

“Come, come, now Roo. Don’t tell me you’re surprised.”

Her words hit me squarely in the chest and wrenched. She was wrong. I was surprised. Part of me trusted her. I believed her when she said she was on our side.

If Marc was free, he’d be coming. So would Cash. They’d walk right into a trap.

“You fucking bitch.”

She smiled. “Are you going to come without trouble, or do I need Fernando and Raoul to drag you. I know Eduardo is itching to get his hands on you.”

I glanced over my shoulder.

The two soldiers, Fernando and Raoul, I assumed, still had their masks on. They cradled their rifles like babies, eyes expectantly on me. Eduardo, the scarred leader, bared his teeth. I couldn’t tell if my hex had worked on him so had to confirm. I just needed an order that wouldn’t seem suspicious to Eve.

“Take me to Urser,” I said, looking him squarely in the eye first, then settled on Eve.

Almost simultaneously, Eve indicated for Eduardo to take me and he launched toward me. But I saw him move first. And if he moved first, chances were he was mine.

Fernando and Raul urged me forward with the butts of their guns.

We followed Eve down brightly lit corridors with white walls. I caught glimpses of medical labs and equipment through the windows of doors as we passed. That could be where they did their initial testing. Occasionally, I saw bodies in there, some alive, and some not. A few were darklings and others were human. Not all of them were alive.

There was one room, completely open as if they wanted me to see. It had a metal table with a cadaver on it, chest cracked open like a butterfly. The sight was horrifying enough, but when I caught the toes wiggling on their own, I almost vomited. That person, or Nephilim… or darkling was alive. The lab attendant looked up as I passed—two eyes peering at me from over a surgical mask—then someone shut the door to hide the experiment.

A warped sense of reality swirled around me. This was worse than we’d imagined. How many people had suffered in the name of perfecting their dark serum? I couldn’t tell if it was my nervous energy, or the ghosts of the experimented, or perhaps I worried that the surprises weren’t over, but the sick feeling grew. I’d already gotten one thing wrong. Eve wasn’t the kind woman she claimed to be. Despite Marc’s insistence of her rotten core, I’d paid it no mind. Idiot. I was an A-grade idiot. How many of my instincts were wrong?

One thing was for sure, I wasn’t without backup. The three armed men behind me would do anything I told them to, including die for me. And I was okay with that. They killed the village. They didn’t deserve to live. Let their next life be a rat or a cockroach.

Eve led us through a final door and we emerged into a large sitting room. At first glance, it appeared to be an employee lunch room. To one side sat a kitchenette, including a fridge, a microwave, plates and cutlery. Two orange corduroy sofas were in the center of the room. Wren and Lincoln sat on one of them. Urser on the other.

Chapter 15

Lincoln and Wren sat with their hands tied to their thighs, palms up. Both were gagged, but their eyes tracked me across the room as I walked closer. My heart stopped when I saw a syringe sticking from their thighs, twitching slightly as they breathed and inadvertently moved their legs. Black liquid filled each syringe.

Bastard. Fucking bastard.

I should slice his head off with my power. I should slice him right now.

But there was no telling he’d die from that. Out of all the Watchers, and despite him being a father figure during my early life, he was the most mysterious. I knew little about his Seraphim abilities, except he could shake the earth and glamour others under his control. I also knew he was from a war planet, like his brother, the king and conqueror of the Empire—my ex-husband. But you didn’t get to be as powerful as he without strength. I needed more information.

Heat bubbled at my fingers and I flexed.

My gaze bounced between Bruce Urser and my friends. Urser was huge. His presence filled the two-seater sofa entirely. My whole life he’d been a regimented military man. There were rules and regulations in our house. Clothes had to be ironed, beds made a certain way, sheets folded and tucked in the corners. Seeing him in his neatly pressed uniform and military style buzz cut, I could see nothing much had changed. He sat stiffly, barely moving. He was cold, calculated and precise. He didn’t waste breath unless he knew it went to good use. Everything had a purpose—including the uniform. He wanted me to think that he had the might of an army behind him, ready to move on his word. He even had a black handheld radio pinned to the tab on one shoulder. I lifted a brow at the medals pinned to the breast pocket of his jacket.

“Gave yourself a few medals, did you, Bruce?”

He stood up and sneered. “Ah, Your Majesty. So kind of you to join us.”

“Cut the bullshit. I get it. You got me. You and your bloody witch of the century pulled the wool over my eyes and now I’m here.”

“No ‘father’ anymore? No ‘daddy dearest’?”

“Pfft. When did I ever call you ‘daddy dearest’? You and I both know you’ve never been my father. You’ve only ever been Bruce Urser to me. This whole Game is a sick ruse and the fact that I landed in your House surprised you as much as it did me.”

His eyebrow twitch was the only sign my words made any impact. His aura flatlined, and his face deadpanned. Like I said: Control.

“When are you going to understand that you can’t beat me?” he asked. “I’m always two steps ahead of you and I don’t even try.”

“Gloating isn’t an attractive look on you. Besides, the Game isn’t over yet.”

He laughed. “You think I care about the Game?”

I folded my arms but didn’t take my eyes off him. Damned if I let him stare me down.

“Please, Roo, take a seat.” He waved at the seat he’d vacated. “I’m sure we can be civil about this.”

“Civil? You’ve stabbed my friends with loaded syringes. Your men beat me.”

“A small price to pay for compliance.”

“Hasn’t anyone told you terrorists aren’t negotiated with?”

He sighed. “And as long as they stay still, they’ll be fine. Please, sit.”

A quick glance at my soldiers had them waiting patiently for instructions. I didn’t want to reveal my secret command, so chose to ignore them and hoped they’d stay waiting.

“Are you okay?” I mouthed to Wren and Lincoln as I sat down.

Wren’s red-rimmed eyes stared back, and when I glanced over at Lincoln, I noticed his were red too. I frowned. Wren’s gaze darted to her arm where a line connected her wrist to the syringe. If she made a sudden movement, the liquid would deploy into her blood stream, flooding her veins with the dark serum. The same contraption was rigged on Lincoln’s arm. They had to stay completely still.

Bruce smiled.

Inside, I seethed. He knew I wouldn’t be swayed by their deaths, so a simple death threat would be wasted on me. They were Players. Their souls would travel to Purgatory and Marc would transport them safely home. But this… the serum would turn them into darklings, meaning he could control them, and worse, if he killed them, they would die a true death if I couldn’t purge the infection out of their systems first.

“How did you get the recipe for the serum?” I asked, eyes burning. “I thought it was original sin extracted from souls. It was destroyed years ago when the prince died.” It’s what Cash sacrificed his life for. “How did you get it back?”

“Despite what the myths say, the serum was never destroyed. It never really existed in the first place. Granted, what we have now took us some time to perfect. We lost a lot of subjects in our efforts to control Seraphim, but the Nephilim Players proved to be the perfect bridge between human and god.” Bruce casually walked to join Eve near the kitchenette. He picked up a knife from the counter and then moved to the window sill where a small pot plant sat. He sliced his palm with the knife until a black welt appeared. Black ink bled in drops and spread to cover the leaf in a silent dark plague. The plant turned gray, the leaf withered into ash and scattered to the bench. He slid a glance to me. “You might be life, but I am death. Sin is my specialty.”

A chill traveled down my spine. There was nothing left of the plant. Could he do that to everything, people included? I thought back to what they'd told me about the prince and the queen. The story was that she extracted original sin to make perfect beings. The prince stole this extraction, and mutated it for his own purposes to create the plague that twisted people into monsters. But Urser said, Sin is my specialty.

He laughed, supreme satisfaction dawning on his face. “Finally. You see.”

“It all came from you,” I said. “It was never something the queen extracted. It was never something the prince had twisted. It was always something you put in. You wanted to control Seraphim all along, and the darkling Players are only the beginning. Do your Watcher pals know what you’re planning to do to them? Do they know they betrayed the queen for another death sentence?”

The ground rumbled and a storm shadowed Bruce’s face. “You,” he spat. “You keep calling her the queen to distance yourself. But you can’t run from your own mistakes.” He stepped toward me. “You can’t hide from yourself, and soon you’ll see everything you created turn to dust, starting with your friends. And then finally, Ursa Constellation will have its day—like it should’ve in the beginning.”

If I ever had any doubt, I knew now that he hated me with a passion. I must have done something terrible to him to deserve his malice. If he wanted me dead, he could’ve killed me a long time ago with a simple touch. No, there was something more.

I studied him. “I must have pulled one over you for you to go to this much trouble. What was it, did I steal someone you love? Your best friend? Your brother?” His control cracked. Little slivers of energy slipped through tiny fissures in his aura. “Oh! That’s it.” There had been a flicker of emotion in his eyes when I said the word brother. Was it Envy? Pride? I kept pushing. “I stole your brother, the king, and then he had no time for you after we married? Did he spend too much time with me and forget about you?” Another crack in the fissures. This time when I said the word me. “No. You didn’t want your brother. You wanted me … but… not for love. Your brother got me instead of you which meant he married into the royal family. He got to be king, while you—”

The ground shook beneath us. Plates and dishes fell from the sink. And I shifted in my seat. Still, I smiled.

“You know nothing of my relationship with my brother.”

“The shaking walls might beg to differ.”

The ground shook again, this time, the syringes wobbled so much Wren and Lincoln whimpered and winced.

“You’re a bastard, you know that?” I shot Urser daggers.

“Perhaps to you, but to others”—he jerked his chin toward Eve—“I’m a saint. A god. The Almighty.” He stepped to a window and peered through the blinds. “Now, all we need is for your knights in shining armor to turn up, and then I’m done with you.”

So Marc was alive, as was Cash. At least that was good news.

“What do you need them for when my blood will open your gate?”

He spared me a look, eyes narrowed. “So you know.”

“Of course I know.” I glanced at Eve. She also widened her eyes a fraction. “I also know what you’re planning to do once you get the gate open.” I didn’t, but let them think I did.

Urser turned to Eve. “If she knows, then the others will too. They might think this is a trap and come prepared. There may be more coming.”

Eve closed the gap between them and lowered her head to talk to Bruce discreetly.

While they were distracted, I took the chance to get the attention of my friends.

“Hey,” I whispered.

Lincoln’s baby blues widened.

I made a show of looking at the needle in his leg. He frowned at it then back at me.

I inched my hand his way and sent my energy forth in a whisper to connect with the syringe, testing for weaknesses. But before I acted, I needed to power up. It had been a long time since I’d eaten and, after healing a crushed skull and casting a couple of hexes, my reserves ran low. I considered siphoning straight from Urser and Eve—weakening them at the same time as energizing myself—but dismissed the urge. They were too practiced and would sense me before I took enough to attack. Instead, I sought out the soldiers. I let their energy trickle down through our connection. The surrounding world grew clearer, brighter, more alive. I felt a pulse beat in each body. I smelled the blood crusting on Eduardo’s blade, and I tasted the last meal cooked in the microwave. The animals were alive in the forest behind the windows. There was more energy out there for me if I let it in, but nature was wild, raw and unrestrained.

All three soldiers faltered, stumbled as I drew on their essence. Life-force flowed into me like my own personal brand of ecstasy. It was hard to stop, but I need the soldiers functional. I needed their protection. I cut my line of fuel and, slowly, surely, surrounded Lincoln’s hypodermic needle with my power. I squeezed until the needle compacted, collapsing in on itself. There was no way the black liquid would make its way through the cavity now. Lincoln caught wind of what I was doing and nudged Wren with his shoulder. She met my eyes, swallowed, and then gave me an almost imperceptible nod.

Quickly, I checked that Urser and Eve were still preoccupied, then concentrated on Wren’s needle and did the same. It bent oddly to the side. Wren winced.

Sorry, I mouthed from my spot on the couch opposite her.

Soon I had both blocked and ready for extraction. On second thought, it was best I released their harnesses to give them access to remove the syringes themselves. Squeezing solid air was one thing, but slicing was another. At this distance, I worried I would miss and end up hurting them, especially after I was juiced up with soldier energy.

It would be better if one of us pulled the needles out manually.

I rubbed my sweaty palms on my thighs and checked Eve and Urser one last time. Eve was explaining something to Urser. I slowly stood. He reached to activate his shoulder mic, depressed the button and spoke into it. Then his gaze swept my way.

Shit.

In one fluid movement, I yelled “Protect me” to my soldiers and launched over the coffee table separating the two sofas. Each of my hands landed on one of my friends’ legs and pulled the needle out. Then I let my power zip through my fingers and sliced the bonds apart.

A wave of invisible power hit me and I was thrown backwards. My back skidded across the coffee table until I hit the soft cushions of the couch behind. I stood but was hit by another wave. The momentum sent my legs flying over my head in a flip and soon I found myself sprawled on the floor behind the couch, trying to catch my breath. I blinked, staring at the tiles under my palms. Wow. So fast.

As the soldiers rushed to my side of the couch, I struggled to comprehend how I’d been thrown across the room.

Air?

I shook my head. Unless Bruce had some power I wasn’t aware of, it must have been Eve with her telekinesis.

Double shit.

My hand found my stomach. It was wet. The second I became aware of the wound, pain swamped my brain. I glanced down. Red sticky mess oozed through my fingers.

It was okay. The wound was closing. I was okay.

Hiding behind the sofa, I squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated on breathing through the pain. A couple more seconds and my insides wouldn’t fall out. Just another breath. And another.

I tested my stomach and breathed a sigh of relief. Intact.

Slowly, heavily, I got to my feet, ignoring the pinch at my gut.

When I straightened, Eve stood behind Lincoln and Wren’s couch. Each had a hand still secured. I’d failed in releasing them completely. Eve had a controlling hand on Lincoln’s shoulder, and Urser had his palm on Wren’s cheek, tilting her face back toward him. He stared into her eyes, speaking, mesmerizing her.

“No!” I screamed. “Get away from her!” I spun to Eduardo. “Shoot Urser and Eve. Save my friends.”

Eduardo aimed his rifle at Bruce but, before he could shoot, the doors burst open and a horde of darklings swarmed in. Each having once been human or Nephilim, was humanoid in appearance, but their eyes were black, their hands were like claws, and they gnashed their sharpened teeth with feral appetite. Urser had injected his darkness into them, and now they were evil incarnate, ready and willing to do their master’s bidding.

“Attack her,” Bruce called and pointed at me.

“Shoot them,” I cried and pointed at the darklings. “Shoot them.”

My three soldiers swiveled their weapons and fired. The roar of rifles discharging filled the small room and then a different sort of rumble shook my feet. I looked down. The ground shook.

Urser watched me with a crazy glint in his eye and his hands flexed toward the floor. From where I stood I could feel his power pushing into the ground, disrupting it. The walls trembled around me and the blinds on the windows rattled. He could bring down the building if he wanted to.

The ground shifted and the windows shattered, showering my back with broken glass. A surge in life-energy behind me was my only warning before a mass of bats and birds swooped inside.

I screamed and dropped to the ground. It was chaos. The animals torpedoed in through the open windows and flapped around the room, creating a dark mass of wings and fury. My heart squeezed. Fear locked my muscles. Wren. He’s got Wren doing this. I had to save her.

There was one thing Urser didn’t count on. More life in the room meant a bigger power supply for me. But tapping that source meant I would tip the balance of nature. I’d be killing innocent creatures to save myself. A snarl near the darklings had me glancing that way. The soldiers had run out of bullets and the feral beasts breeched the room. I was running out of time. I pushed away the fear locking my joints, and opened myself to the hurricane of electrical life-force. A silent tsunami hit me, lighting me up, but I pulled on the source until my hair lifted with static electricity, strands floating in a gravity defying response.

I needed to defeat him. End this now. Once and for all.

I removed all traces of reticence and opened myself wide, screaming as electricity burned and ripped my insides, stretching my half-human vessel to the brink. My body bowed under the pressure. Birds and bats dropped, one by one, depleted as their energy flew from them to fill me. I was power. I was life.

Eventually quiet descended. Naught but the sound of rain falling beyond the open windows could be heard.

Pitter patter. Pitter patter.

And the click of the soldier’s guns as they tried to shoot with empty magazines. They’d followed my last directive to a T. Shoot them. Shoot them, I’d cried. And they kept shooting darklings with no ammunition.

Bruce and Eve stood behind Lincoln and Wren, eyes like globes as they took me in. They knew what I had done. They knew what I could do. But Bruce wasn’t afraid. He cocked his head as he watched me, silently assessing.

Near the door, more darklings clawed their way in over their fallen comrades. They saw the soldiers clicking their weapons, aimed at the fallen monsters. They howled in some sort of pack grief mentality then swarmed on my soldiers. Flesh ripped from bone and, in a bloody mess, the soldiers were no more. One by one, the darklings raised their heads, lions feasting on an expended gazelle, and locked awareness onto me. Hungry.

“Get her,” Bruce roared. “Bring her to me alive.”

My body trembled. Fuck.

With no time to hone, or craft the purpose for the power inside me, I released in the direction of the darklings heading my way. An eye-watering missile of raw energy shot from me. I screamed as it ripped away, shredding my being. Agony hurtled through my skin and the darklings in the front line vaporized into red mist. My energy surged through the next line of darklings. Just like the time I pushed a familiar’s essence out of a horse, the darkling bodies were separated from their essence. Unlike the horses, their bodies fell limp to the ground and the souls didn’t dissolve into the Earth’s atmosphere, they ceased to exist. Most of the energy I’d gathered from the birds was gone as suddenly as it arrived and dizziness overcame me. I dropped to one knee, glass crunching painfully under my skin.

I knew now what Marc meant when he said human bodies weren’t strong enough for Seraphim souls. My instincts kept sucking more life into me, filling up again, but my body crumbled from the inside. I felt it withering. The wrongness inside… it made me sick. Made me want to gag. My hand gripped the back of the sofa to steady myself. I looked over the edge.

Wren swayed in her seat, still under the influence of Bruce, and Eve stood behind Lincoln with her fingers wrapped around his throat.

Chapter 16

Wet wind whipped my back through the open window, painting my skin with rain and soaking me through. Pain radiated at my knee from the broken glass. Cold fingers slid down my spine, but I didn’t shiver. I felt the heat of life in that rain. In every damned drop of water falling from the sky, blowing through the window and landing on my flesh. Pure, unadulterated energy. It was the warm ocean in Margaret River lapping around my ankles. It was the frosty breeze in Budapest kissing me goodnight. It existed in the wildlife in the forest, in the plants, the trees, deep underground in the crawling insects, and it knew me. It connected through me and vibrated, alive and sentient, happy to be recognized. It called to me. It pressed down and I hurt with blissful awareness. I knew if I took anymore into me, my raw senses would overload. Nerve synapses would fry. But, like a junkie the day after, my blood sang for more even though deep down, in some distant part, I knew it would kill me.

I pushed the awareness to the side, where it waited in my periphery, eager and willing. I would not be pushed into anything, by anyone. Even nature itself.

I could do this—save my friends and survive with my mind and body intact. I locked onto the scene before me and calculated. I still stood between the sofa and the open window. Urser and Eve were behind Lincoln and Wren and the pile of dead darkling bodies blocked the exit. I did’t want to risk burnout, so had to avoid using energy. One option was to get to the remains of Eduardo and retrieve his machete. It was somewhere nearby. It had to be.

No. It was too far. Too impossible. No time.

And the energy inside me rolled like the tide, insistent. It hurt to hold. I almost laughed manically, for how could I hold the ocean? Instead it came out as a whimper and a burst of electricity shot from me prematurely. Smoke curled from my fingertips, sizzling and searing.

Eve still stood behind Lincoln with her talon like grip on the fragile flesh of his neck. Urser stood behind Wren, her mind completely under his control. She stared vacantly, swaying.

My bones were tired and alive at the same time. My body blistered from the inside. More energy simmered beneath the surface of my skin. I was breaking. I had to do this now.

“Let them go.” My voice sounded different, deep and hollow, as though echoing in my ears. I straightened and flexed my fingers. They sizzled in the moisture flicking in on a gust of wind. “Beg, and I may spare your life.”

Bruce laughed. “You’re the one who should be begging.”

“I decimated your darkling army. You have it wrong.”

“You think that was all I have?”

Anger ripped a snarl from my throat and I punched my energy-laden fists to the sofa. It skittered right, out of my way. I strode forward, kicking a fallen machete out of the way. I didn’t need it now. I slammed my fist into the coffee table, splintering it. It felt good. Hurt good.

Eve dragged Lincoln backward over the couch and Bruce did the same with Wren, putting the sofa between us. I screamed in frustration and simply stepped over it. They backed away until they were against the far window, wind and rain gusting in over their heads through the broken blinds.

My pathway was clear. Nothing but air between me and the four.

They were too calm. Too practiced. Schooled. As though they’d planned this move and were waiting for me to advance. Too easy.

Bruce glanced at Eve and jerked his head back, signaling a retreat through the windows.

Eve’s eyes widened as she glimpsed the open window over her shoulder. “Through the rain?”

“Yes, through the rain.”

“Didn’t plan on the rain, did you, Eve?” I said, inching forward. Witches hated the rain. They feared it. Water was one of the only things that could kill them. Drown a witch and her energy dissipated and dispersed. Like a lightning bolt striking the sea, the electricity of her life would conduct from drop to drop of rain until there was no more. The only thing saving her right now was the body she hosted inside.

“Shut up,” she said. “You don’t know what we’ve planned.”

“Oh, I think I do. All of this. You planned all of this. But you don’t know what I know.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes at me, calculating. “Leave. She’s bluffing.”

Eve inched backward, tugging Lincoln by the throat. She took her eyes off me to check the rain.

“Go,” Urser urged, and yanked on the broken blinds, clearing them from the window.

But Eve hesitated, fear in her ancient eyes.

Why was he so insistent on leaving if he knew his army was coming to rescue him?

Unless they were too far away to get here on time.

Was it really possible Bruce thought he was no match for me? But that last blast of energy I used to move the couch near depleted me. If I kept my bluff going, I could force them to release my friends before they went. Or I could replenish. If my body could take it. But there were no bats, no birds and no soldiers to siphon. The only life available was before me. Four people, only two I was prepared to tap.

I pushed my essence outwards to connect with them, but it went sluggishly. Air dragged into my heaving lungs. I had to connect before I could pull, before I could drain. My weakened body had trouble recovering from the recent surge. It wasn’t doing as it was told.

Panic gripped my heart and squeezed. Maybe that’s what he wanted. To drain me. To deplete me.

“Back away, Roo, while you still can. My army is coming.” Urser squeezed Wren’s shoulder. “And with this one, I’ll have an army of darkling animals as well. I’ll be unstoppable. And then I’ll take the gate.”

“You don’t have the key,” I said. “You need my blood.”

“Are you sure? The hunter is your soulmate. His blood will do.”

Suddenly, our future was laid out before us. With absolute certainty I knew it wouldn’t end well. I let out a sob I couldn’t hold.

“I’m sorry,” I said to my friends. “This is all my fault.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Roo,” Lincoln said, catching my attention. While his mouth spoke, his eyes directed my attention elsewhere. To the machete on the floor between us. “We all made our own choices. You have to trust me.”

Trust me, he’d said. My brain scrambled to make sense of his intentions. He wanted me to trust him. With the machete.

“I’ve never been good at much in my life here, but there’s one thing you know about me for sure,” Lincoln said. “One thing we’ve always had in common.”

He wanted Urser dead.

I darted a glance between him and Urser, who stood marginally closer to me, holding Wren like a shield before him. Lincoln had access to the soft part of Urser’s side. His underbelly and vital organs.

With my power, I threw the machete, hilt first, toward Lincoln. He plucked it out of the air and flipped it to stab through the gap of his own arm and body. Behind him, the blade sank into Eve’s soft flesh. It was enough for her to loosen her grip on his neck. That was all he needed to twist free. Lincoln’s face contorted with concentration and he spun toward my father, blade slicing forward.

Too quick. It happened too quick.

Bruce wrenched Wren around and shoved her toward Lincoln.

Lincoln’s blade plunged deep into her chest, front and center. Blood spurted from the wound. Arteries hit.

“No!” Lincoln screamed and let go of the knife. The hilt wobbled as Wren staggered back, surprise flaring her eyes.

“Wren!” I shouted and staggered forward.

Blood leaked from her mouth. She dropped to her knees. Lincoln caught her in his arms. “No, Wren,” he cried, face crumpling. “Don’t. Don’t leave me. We haven’t finished our adventure. Heal.”

But the instant he said the word, Urser reached down and touched Wren’s cheek.

A flitter. A feather light touch. That was all he made before he launched out the window, escaping.

“No!” I cried. “You bastard!”

Dark veins burst from the contact point on Wren’s cheek. Her mouth opened to a wide O shape and she choked. The poison invaded her body.

“Do something, Roo. Help her!” Lincoln grabbed the front of my shirt and shook me.

“I-I…” Fierce determination gripped me and I wrapped my fingers around the hilt of the knife in her chest. I pulled.

I sliced my palm and laid it on her chest. Warm liquid oozed between my fingers and I screamed in my mind for her body to reject his poison.

“It’s not working,” I said. “Her heart isn’t beating fast enough. It’s not circulating my antidote. I don’t even know if his poison is the same as the dark serum.” Even Urser said it took them years to perfect the serum.

“What do we do?” Lincoln said desperately.

I handed him the blade. “Kill her. Save her soul. Send it to Purgatory.”

He didn’t hesitate. He took the blade and, with a keening wail of anguish, drove it back into her heart, twisting. The life left Wren’s eyes, her vibrant aura rose from her body and dissipated into the atmosphere. Lincoln looked to me for guidance. “Did it work? Is she safe?”

“Yes. I sensed her soul leave. She’s okay.” I cried. Hot, wet tears streamed down my face and I tugged Lincoln into my embrace. “I’m so sorry, bro.”

For a minute, he stiffened, then he softened into me. His hands slapped around my back and he gripped tight, crying into my shoulder. His body trembled in my arms.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered and stroked his hair. “She’s okay. She’s fine. You did the right thing. She’s safe.”

I kept whispering comforting words until, sniffing, he pulled away and looked into my eyes, frowning. “She didn’t deserve this. She was the kindest, most caring soul I ever met.”

"I know.”

He moved to Wren’s body and picked her up, shifted her onto his lap. He stroked her cheek. “We had plans to travel the world. We had plans, Roo.”

My heart ached for him. “I’m so sorry, Lincoln.”

“That fucking bastard. I’m going to turn him inside out.”

“I’m right there with you, buddy—”

I stopped talking. Movement on my left.

Danger imminent, I froze.

Eve had her hand plastered to her wound but, unlike me, she had to hex herself to heal her body. Nephilim bodies healed on their own, but witches had to direct their body to heal. Eve could either save her host’s body, or escape with her life. The heavy rain outside prevented her from leaving in spirit form.

Her eyes grew feral with the awareness she was locked in this room with me.

Looking back now, I should’ve known. A cornered caged animal never conceded.

Eve hissed. Her eyes bled to black as she channeled her energy, preparing to fight.

I did the same. With all that I could, I scraped the bottom shelf of my ocean and lifted it up. I wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Eve’s arms floated at her side, lifting slowly, blood stained palms facing the ceiling. She kept hold of my gaze as broken shards of glass trembled at her feet, shimmering and lifting into the air. Big, glistening triangular blades of glass rotated in the air.

“Don’t do it, Eve,” I warned, readying myself to throw up a shield of air.

I thought she would come for me. I prepared myself to make the barrier in front of me, but she twisted to face Lincoln, still holding Wren, his back to us. I threw air her way, to try and intercept, but she threw the glass at Lincoln. I wasn’t quick enough. Shards jackhammered into my friends. Their bodies shook as though being shot, but it was glass, not bullets that riddled their skin and lodged in deep, preventing healing.

I screamed and opened the floodgates. The energy bustling outside in nature poured through me in an avalanche. Rain, air, and debris flew inside the room from all windows. I was a conduit for the storm. A hurricane exploded around me, whirling, lifting pillows, plates and furniture into the air. It was the water I was interested in, and as I approached her, I forced it into her body, through every orifice. Water plastered to her skin and ran upwards in rivulets into her horrified eyes, her mouth, her nose. She tried to scream, but no air could escape. I stalked toward her, sending everything I had her way. Agony sliced through me. Too much. My body couldn’t take it. My right knee folded and I collapsed, hitting the tiles. My hands landed with a thud on the floor. I was burning, from the inside. Consumed.

But I kept going.

I crawled, malice spewing from my eyes.

“Drown,” I spat. My hands slapped on her fallen, writhing body. “Fucking, die you witch.”

Black ooze gushed out of her eyes. It was her stained life-force trying to escape, but it had nowhere to go except into the puddle around her where it drifted and dissipated.

And then she was gone.

Lincoln made a gargling sound. I wrenched my tormented body around and somehow made it to him. So much blood. So much lost life.

“Roo,” he gurgled. “Don’t save me. Let me go.”

Tears burned my eyes. Water welled. “But…”

“I want to be with Wren.”

My lips mashed together. I nodded.

“When I get back, my memories come with me, right?”

“Yeah, buddy, I think they do.”

“Good. I want to remember her. Let us make this last trip together.”

I was all out crying now. I nodded. “Whatever you want.”

He choked, eyes wide as he tried to control his convulsion. When he was done, he licked his lips and solemnly met my eyes. “Do you want me to tell them anything when I return?”

Clarity hit me in that moment. It was as if everything I’d learned over the past few months finally sunk in. I always tried to deny being the queen because she was destruction as well as creation, but I couldn’t run from my instincts. I had the power to take life, and to give it. I had to embrace my true nature if I wanted a chance at defeating Urser. I licked my lips.

“Tell them,” I said, “that Urser has perfected a way of infecting Seraphim to control them. Tell them he wants Ursa Constellation in power, and he’s been plotting this entire time to get there. He’s declared war. Tell them the queen says to be ready.”

I placed my palms on his chest, trying not to knock the glass speared in random places for fear of hurting him more, but he was beyond pain now.

He nodded grimly. “Do it.”

With the last of my reserves, I sent a pulse of energy through him and pushed his soul out. It fizzled and popped as it bled into the atmosphere.

Silence.

There was no other aura in the room but me.

A great, wracking sob shook me and I collapsed on the floor.

“I’m sorry, Kitty,” I whispered, because I may have just signed her death warrant.

Chapter 17

“Love?”

I groaned in the cold darkness and blocked my ears. My head pounded and every noise hurt. Words without words were all around me. Everywhere. Whispers of a thousand soulless voices called to me from somewhere.

“Love, wake up.”

Light pressure on my cheek opened my eyes. The whispers hushed, stopped chittering, as though they’d heard him, too. Directly in front of me was Marc’s face, worry etched deep into his eyes. He sighed in relief.

“Marc?”

“Love, I’m sorry. I couldn’t find you. There’s something about this place.” He was crouched over me, frowning. “And your aura is quiet. Small. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

I wanted to answer him, but through the open windows, nature called to me. It beckoned. The voices were out there. Thousands of them, coaxing, pulsing through the wind. They tickled my skin, testing me. They wanted in. “No, you can’t.”

“What, love?”

“I’m not talking to you.” A mumble was all I could manage.

“Who are you talking to?”

“The Universe. The Earth. A thousand souls of the night. I don’t really know… just that it wants me,” I slurred and tried to get up, but couldn’t move. So tired. “It’s talking.”

“Don’t move. You need medical attention.”

“I’m okay.” I licked my lips. My throat was so dry.

“Your aura is so weak. What did you do?”

What did I do?

Lincoln. Wren. Gone.

Kitty.

My throat closed up and I wheezed, trying to catch a breath.

Panicked, Marc gathered me into his arms. “Take it easy, Sephie.”

“I’m not”—I choked—“her yet.”

“Relax. Breathe.”

“Get your hands off her.” A dark, masculine voice pierced the air.

Cash vaulted through a window, mindless of the broken sill.

That first sight of him burned into my brain. It was a sudden stroke of clarity in my otherwise blurry mind. His golden skin, stern but beautiful face, and thunderous eyes that connected to my heart. Like the storm that had passed. My storm.

He landed next to me, breathing hard and panting as though he’d run a marathon, and pried me from Marc’s hands. He palmed Marc’s chest, shoving him away. “This is your fucking fault, Gamekeeper.”

Uh-oh. Official names. Cash was pissed. I touched him, feeling the sharp angles of his cheekbones and jaw, the stubble he’d been too busy to shave. A sheen of sweat shone on his brow.

“She needs medical attention,” Marc said, ignoring Cash’s animosity. “Where is everyone? I thought you brought back-up.”

“I ran here.”

He ran?

“She depleted herself fighting Urser,” Marc said and rested a palm on my forehead. “Her body is weak. Close to crossing, I can sense it. We need Lena.”

“I said, get your hands off her.” Cash shoved Marc again.

My breathing accelerated, my chest tightened. “Stop it.” The words took too much effort. “Stop fighting.”

“Take my energy,” Cash ordered.

“No, this is my fault, take mine, love.”

“Stupid men,” I slurred, eyes rolling back. “The world will give me her energy.”

“No, love. Don’t do it. You’re not strong enough to let it in. Your body is weak. Do you hear me?”

Don’t let it in. I locked onto those words and used them as my anchor.

A sharp sting in the crook of my arm roused me from sleep.

So I was alive.

Still hurting.

Oh God. Pain strapped me down. I whined, grimacing in the glare of blinking lights overhead. What was happening? Where was I? Bright lights. A few more seconds and the room came into focus.

A medical type room. Sterile white walls, stainless steel equipment… and I was on a bed. A gurney. It was a doctor’s surgery, or… must be one of the labs. Nausea rose violently in my stomach and I retched. That body. Chest with ribs open like a butterfly. My skin was clammy.

“Hurry,” someone said… Marc?

The sting again. I glanced down at my arm. A clear, plastic tube stuck out of it. “What the hell?” I tugged.

“Leave it in, Roo.” Cash growled from beside me.

I glanced over. He lay on a twin hospital gurney a hand’s-width away. Marc stood next to Cash with the end of my tube in his hand. He connected it to a needle in Cash’s arm.

“This is a bad idea,” Marc mumbled. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“What are you doing?” I murmured.

“We’re infusing you with my blood,” Cash said. “Jesop and Lena are on their way, but if we don’t…”

His voice faded and dark clouds battled bright spots in my vision. From a distance I heard male voices. I fought for clarity, came to, and tried to pull the tube out. I knew it was stupid. My Nephilim body had burned out. I remembered that. But the only other choice was to let Eve win and Lincoln suffer. I knew the consequences. Still… “I’m not ready to die.” I faded out.

“Roo.” Cash’s voice broke. “Don’t you die on me, Roo.”

I sobbed and licked my lips. “The voices are quieter now. I’m okay.” But as the words came out, I knew in my heart that I wasn’t okay. A wrongness sat heavy in me, like a rolling stone, falling, gathering momentum. It was my soul trying to leave my broken body.

His hand floundered until he sourced my own and gripped tight. “You will die without this. You will leave me, and I can’t have that.”

“But—” I took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Do this, or I come with you.”

I craned to see him.

For a serious man, always stoic in his delivery, his eyes today told a different story. Desperation reflected back at me. He locked onto me with dogged determination. “I’m not doing this without you.”

Of his meaning, there was no doubt. He would follow me to the grave.

“Then distract me. Tell me something good about her. Tell me about the moment you fell in love,” I whispered.

“You stopped me from killing a bug…”

I almost laughed but I had no strength. It came out as a strangled sigh.

“It wasn’t even a beautiful bug,” he continued. “It was the ugliest, most annoying thing I’d ever seen, but you protected it with fury. It was after… after the king had died. I’d been promoted up the ranks of the Royal Army and was tasked with increasing your personal security. Nobody wanted the job because they thought you’d killed your husband. You didn’t—we know that now, but then I was ambitious, egotistical, and didn’t give a shit whether you’d killed him or not. I’d blasted any opponent who dared to face me, and yet I still had the need to fight. I knew trouble was brewing between the worlds and wanted a piece of it. Roo? Are you listening?”

“Yes, keep going.”

“I found you in the royal garden, sitting on a bench, watching an empty playground. Your husband was gone. Your only son hated you for it, and you were alone. You should’ve been broken, but you were a delicate flower showing its framework of steel. When I came next to you, and swatted the bug sitting where I would, you blocked me… ‘It’s just a bug’ I’d said”—Cash laughed—“to which you replied ‘And you’re just a Seraphim, yet here we are, sharing the same air, made from the same stardust, the same energy.’ And then you looked at me with these big beautiful eyes full of defiance, and I fell in love.”

I blinked drowsily, letting the deep timbre of his voice soothe me. I laid my head back and closed my eyes. “Tell me more.”

“…I didn’t know then, that it was the moment I fell in love, but those words represented everything. You shielded the bug, picked it up and lectured me on keeping the Universe in balance. Its leg had been damaged from my haste. You took my hand, placed the bug on it and somehow healed it. I understood my purpose then: I was death, and you were life. The perfect balance. We could fix the Empire together.”

Marc cleared his throat and patted Cash’s arm, tube fitted. Dark, red liquid filtered from Cash’s wrist and through the clear tube to a bag where it gathered in size and would soon feed into me.

Cash squeezed my hand, eyes boring into mine. “No matter how divided we became, remember that, Roo. We’re two halves of the same whole, we will always find our way back to each other.”

“You’re not death, Cash,” I croaked. “I stared into Urser’s eyes today and saw myself reflected in them. I’m death.”

“No,” he insisted. “You aren’t. Believe me, Roo. You can’t be, because you’re the only thing keeping me in balance. You stop me from going dark.”

“It’s okay,” I sighed. “We’ll be okay.”

I blinked. My eyes burned. It took me a moment to realize my arm was burning too.

I thought I had experienced pain before, but nothing prepared me for this. It started as a warm, liquid trickle—the blood—and it sped from my arm straight to my heart, flammable and already in cinders. And then came the all-consuming agony as every pain receptor in my body ignited at once. Paralyzed with feeling, I could only look upon my companions, and hoped they understood the soundless cry for mercy in my eyes.

“Roo?” Cash was the first to notice something was wrong.

But his blood kept coming, flooding me with razors.

“Roo?” he asked again. “Are you okay?”

It felt like an eternity passed before he plucked out the intravenous line from his arm and slung his legs off the gurney to stand over me. “Something’s wrong.”

Marc was suddenly on the other side of me, touching my arm free of tubing. “She’s hot.”

“It wasn’t like this with me. Roo, are you in pain?” Cash asked.

I couldn’t answer.

“Her energy is fading,” Marc said, voice tight.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Enforcer, that it’s not working. Quick, put the tube back in your arm. She needs more blood.”

Cash hastily reconnected the tube to his intravenous needle and I tried to tell them, I really did, but the burning blood continued.

They argued then, but I don’t remember the words, only the thunderous inferno in my blood, turning everything white.

I screamed.

Chapter 18

I didn’t remember much in the days that followed, except the discarnate voices, the mind numbing pain, the white noise. Time passed in fractured pieces. Together with vague memories and Cash’s recounting of events, I managed to gather a semblance of what happened.

My initial screaming had lasted hours and only abated when Lena turned up. She’d cursed their ignorance and, with Jesop’s alchemic help, replaced the IV of Cash’s blood with something else they’d concocted.

Then I disappeared. Literally. Cash had come back to the surgical room to sit with me and found my bed empty. There had been only one way out of that room and I hadn’t left through the door. Nobody knew where I went, and I didn’t remember myself, but two days later they found me lying in the mud, naked and shivering, on the floor of the village square, right near the stall I’d purchased my clothes from. The same village Urser’s soldiers had murdered. I was clutching the wooden carving of the macaw in my white knuckled fist. The rain poured down, soaking my body and everything around me. I do remember something about that moment: the cool water helped my suffering as though it were a friend, trying to wash my tears away with theirs. Cash had gathered me in his arms and took me to Marc’s bungalow where he cleaned me, placed me in the white linen bed, and drew the mosquito nets in a waterfall.

I remembered Lena examining me as though I watched through two parts of myself. The one that screamed in silent agony, and the one that watched unfeeling and hollow from a distance. That part—the cold, detached part—was trying desperately to preserve a sense of sentience from the torment clouding my consciousness. The clarity never lasted long. Moments, flickers, and then I was back to the blanket of agony.

“What’s happening to her?” Cash had asked at one point, taking a seat on the bed next to me. He shifted a stray hair from my cheek and gazed at me with pained eyes. I remembered thinking he looked tired and scruffy. His beard had grown and his clothes were crumpled. He had a twitch in one red-rimmed eye.

To them, I stared at the ceiling, catatonic. To me, I held on by a thread. The flames, the fire, the burning inside still consumed all feeling and emotion in my body, leaving a raw husk of consciousness to exist in nothing but the moment, flitting between what happened in front of my eyes and what happened elsewhere—where the whispers told me to look. Pleas for help and cries for recognition called to me from every living thing. Not just the life-force in my immediate vicinity, somehow I felt it everywhere and it felt me.

Lena’s hands flowed over my form, sensing with chi, as she replied to Cash, “You weren’t supposed to give her such a large dose of your blood in one sitting. It’s a progressive process. You may not remember when you converted because your injuries were extensive, but small doses of the queen’s blood were administered over a period of time on an alternate cycle with another formula. Breaking up the conversion helped the mind cope with the transformation. And when you were done with the transfusions, you had your ancient memories to draw on. They told you how to use your abilities. The queen is a child in this sense. She remembers nothing of her previous life and we’ve just unlocked her soul’s full potential. Her body and mind are overwhelmed with her new strength. You threw her in the deep end and expected her to swim when she’s still learning to walk.”

“This is my fault.” He scrubbed his face, voice cracking.

“And mine,” Marc said, stepping into the room, hesitant.

I remembered furniture crashing, then. Vases, chairs, knick-knacks, whatever Cash could get his hands on, he threw at Marc. Most of all, I remembered not being able to care, only to watch it unfold as the voices of pain drew me deeper into them.

The second time I disappeared, they found me in a clearing not far from Marc’s bungalow. It rained still. Cash said I had tried to burrow myself into the soggy mud. I tried to get into the earth. But it was the spark of life beneath me I wanted. It called to me, it was in pain, like me. I wanted to get down to the core, to somehow find the source of the suffering, but it was too much. I knew it was my fault. I brought the pain. I brought these people to the planet.

I brought Urser.

When we got back to the bungalow, once again, Cash washed me. This time, he forwent the bed and took me outside to sit. I supposed he thought I kept gravitating to the earth, so being outdoors would help. It did, I guess, because for a moment, I sat there. Until I tried to drown myself in the pool to block out the noise.

* * *

And so it went on for weeks, as did the relentless rain. I would disappear and turn up nearby in the forest, outside the bungalow, or in the village. I remembered little, except Cash’s steady presence throughout it all. And then finally, he gave up.

He left me in the clearing in front of Marc’s bungalow. Instead of taking me away, washing me, and setting me in the safety of the house, he laid down next to me. His large body sank into the mud with me and he slung a heavy arm over my body, burrowing his face into my neck. It was one of the first coherent memories I had. For some time I laid there with Cash’s warm body next to mine. The pitter-patter of rain on the forest leaves gave me a sliver of solace. The sun rose and set, and through it all, he stayed. Others tried to take us away, but Cash wouldn’t let them. He refused to eat. Lena came to replenish our fluids, but the truth was I didn’t need it. I took my sustenance from nature, from the very energy surrounding me. We stayed until plants grew around us, entwining our legs, blooming pillows under our heads. Finally, someone could sense the planet’s longing and every life form wanted to get closer to me. A gray monkey hopped down from the tree and hovered nearby, curiously chittering. Soon, more animals joined. Birds. Bats. Crawling things.

The monkey came to my face and picked at my hair. Something snapped inside Cash and he plied his warm body away from mine. He ripped the vines tangling our bodies. He tore them into tiny pieces and threw them at the animals. The monkey screeched, sharp teeth chattering like pincers. Cash roared back with the ferocity of a lion and the little animal escaped up the tree. Cash raged at the trees, punched them, shook them. He found an axe in the garden shed cleaved through trunks with the focus of a madman. Thunderous rumbles shook the earth as each tree fell. Animals protested. The cacophony of life interrupted echoed inside me, pulsing the pain, making it worse.

But I said nothing.

So he kept building. He moved each trunk around me to make a shelter, stacking them feverishly. On and on he went, chopping trees, ignoring the damage he caused until I could take it no more.

“Stop,” I whispered one morning. “You’re hurting it.” My first words in weeks, almost too quiet to be heard under the static of the rain, and the ruckus around me, but he heard. My hunter.

He straightened from his task, tying logs with the very vines that kept entwining around my body. The makeshift hut was three courses high already. When he heard me, his eyes were wild and reflected the morning light. He vaulted the logs and landed next to me. His t-shirt clung to his thin body, ripped, battered and stained.

“Roo? Where does it hurt? Tell me.” He called out for Lena, for Jesop, anyone still near.

“Not me. The trees. You’re hurting them. I feel it.”

His laugh was manic, a mix of exhaustion, hysterics and something else I couldn’t place. He shook his head, briefly squeezing his eyes shut. “You’re worried about the tree’s pain. Of course you are.” His head dropped to my chest, heavy and warm, and he gathered me close to him. His body shook and shuddered. Laughing or crying.

“How about this pain?” He kissed me, desperate and deep. It wasn’t fueled by desire or want, but raw unfettered need. A need that coursed through our connection. It pushed at me, hot and demanding. I felt the twisting ache in his essence as it poured in an avalanche. He was right. He hurt. So much. His pain was different to the rest—to what I felt from the earth beneath me. Compared to him, the world was hollow, and distant. He was a shot to my heart. It sparked and I gasped.

“I don’t fucking care about the world,” he said. “Just you. And I’ll keep chopping down trees until you make me stop because at least I can do that. If nothing else, I can build a shelter over your head. I told you once, you’re the one who keeps me in balance. Without you, I’m nothing.”

He stood, rubbed his palms on his pants. I must have made a conflicted sound because he leaned down and said, “You don’t like it? Stop me.”

* * *

Turns out, I did stop Cash. Not immediately, but eventually. In the time it took me to move, he’d built the hut up to five courses high around me. There was no ceiling, and the rain fell on my face, but his words echoed in my head with every swing of the axe.

You don’t like it? Stop me.

With every felled tree, every echo of the earth’s pain, I knew his was greater. He needed me. The world needed me. We needed each other. Another spark ignited and soon, my desire was strong enough to drown out my agony. I rose, staggered, leaned on the log wall and stumbled toward him as he hacked another tree to death.

I emerged from the hut and, looking back now, I realized he sensed me coming. He must have. But he ignored me until I placed my hand on his forearm just as he retracted for another swing, ready to chop.

“Stop,” I said.

He slumped, axe heavy in his hands. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Chapter 19

A few months later, I was back at the refuge in Budapest, meditating in my room. I found it helped block the noise I heard from all living things. The hum and the whispers, the constant buzz. The collar they’d put around my neck also helped, but I preferred not to think about it. It reminded me too much of the collar from when they suspected me of witchcraft. A clasp at the back emitted an electromagnetic field that transmitted through the thin wire surrounding my neck, essentially disrupting the frequency of life-force before I sensed it. It also temporarily blocked my powers. This new collar was an invention from the surviving members of Cetus House. Cash was the one who suggested the upgrade, pointing out the similarities of my abilities and witchcraft. Wearing it didn’t bring me as much peace as they’d hoped.

With my eyes closed and breath steady, I emptied my mind of all thought except awareness of my body. My heavy limbs sank into the soft cotton of the bed, my lungs lifted in rhythmic patterns and my heartbeat pulsed gently in my ears. The noise around me drifted away until the beat and my breath was all I could hear.

Months had passed since Wren and Lincoln died, yet my emotions were still raw. My power stemmed from a connection with all living things and there was much about it that I had to learn. Staying in the confines of Jacine’s medieval castle was the safest place for me while I climbed my way back to normalcy.

Normal. I almost snorted at the thought. The action made me realize I’d pulled myself out of the calming depths of meditation. I was so far past normal it wasn’t funny.

The door opened, rousing me further.

“I was down in town this morning,” Cash said, striding in, excitement animating his features. “Oh, sorry. You’re meditating. I’ll come back later.”

“No, it’s okay.” I sat up, blinking the peace from my eyes to watch him walk over with a brown bottle in his hands. He’d put his weight back on but retained the scruffy hair and short beard he’d adopted in the jungle. He wore jeans and a simple long-sleeved black t-shirt that clung to his sculptured torso, a sight I’d never get tired of. I leveled a languid smile at him to which he caught and hesitated. We hadn’t been together in months and every time I saw his sexy face, my body wanted him with an intensity I’d never felt before. It was as though with my conversion to Seraphim, came muscle memory of our centuries together and I wanted a taste. But, for all of my effort, he would stop my wanton ways before we got too far because his hidden essence could topple me—even with me being at full power now. We couldn’t risk overwhelming my new but damaged and delicate sensitivities. My new priority had been working with healers to desensitize myself to every spark of life around me.

“Tell me,” I said. “What have you found?”

“So, I remembered something from one of my past lives,” he continued. “I followed the memory, and found this.”

“What is it?”

“Look.” He held it out, flashing a grin. I dragged my eyes from his adorable face to investigate the bottle.

“It looks like a bottle of wine to me.”

“Not just any wine.” He sat next to me, shoulder to shoulder, and rubbed a thumb across the grubby label. “Read it.”

I squinted at the faded words. “Chateau Margaux. Okay. What does that mean? Is it old?”

“It’s virtually ancient. Once, I worked as a gravedigger and buried it with some old rich guy. Bottled in 1787. The last known bottle of Chateau Margaux was knocked over by a waiter at an auction a few years back. That makes this the last bottle in existence.”

“You robbed a grave? Gross.”

He shrugged. “Nobody was using it. You wouldn’t believe its value today. Half a million dollars.”

“Still gross. Eww. You want to sell it?”

“I want to drink it. At our wedding.”

“You’re so weird.” I laughed, but my heart cartwheeled. It was the first time we’d mentioned the ‘w’ word since I’d converted and this was his way of being romantic. So much had happened and I wasn’t sure what was up or down. I knew we loved each other, but Urser was missing and silent, as though waiting for me. It made me suspicious. Everything he did was for a reason, and he usually had me eating out of the palm of his hand. A curl of anger unfurled in my gut. Eve and the entire trip to South America had been carefully orchestrated by him. It made me think, what else had been his doing? Wren’s death? Lincoln’s? Had he dangled Eve in front of me knowing I would do anything, including use all of my reserves, to end her? Probably. He wanted my blood to open the gate.

Then there was Marc. I hadn’t seen him since. I knew he blamed himself for taking me on the wild goose chase in the Amazon. I wanted to explain to him it was nobody’s fault, even if Cash insisted it was. I shut that down immediately. I was a grown woman. I chose to follow Marc so I could deal with the consequences. If Cash or Marc wanted to blame anyone, it should be Urser. Only through Jacine did I discover Marc had returned to the Empire with the souls from Purgatory, including Wren and Lincoln. He’d taken any Player he could. With Bruce’s dark gift revealed, it was safer that way. Our numbers were dwindling.

Maybe that was Urser’s plan, too.

And of course, there was me. My infinitely inconvenient powers. My missing time. I had the body to match my soul, but not the memories. Not that I wanted them. They said I might remember, but I hadn’t. Nothing. Except… there was one dream, maybe a memory. I was watching a boy play on a playground, and I felt the love in my heart bloom when he looked over his shoulder to check if I was watching. He was an auburn haired boy with bright brown eyes and it was a face so foreign to me, yet I felt such strong love. Each time I woke, I discounted the dream as something morphed from Cash’s memory of me when we first met—back at the Empire, the same time I’d chastised him for swatting a bug. I tried to ignore the feeling of loss when I woke up from the dream, but it niggled. It could be the prince, yet another person I’d let down.

Speaking of letting people down, my thoughts traveled to Kitty. So far no hex had been activated, but I’d still let her down. I missed her wedding.

“You don’t like it?” Cash asked, seeing my face. “We don’t have to drink it.”

“No, I love it.” I kissed him lightly on the cheek. “I love you, I just…”

“You missed your friend’s wedding.”

I sighed. “How do you always know what I’m thinking?”

“I told you, I know you better than yourself.”

It was true. Kitty and Alvin would have married over a month ago. I called her the moment I was able, but it was too late. Not knowing if I was alive or dead, she’d postponed it. I was supposed to be her Maid of Honor. That conversation had been short and sweet. She must hate me. I stared at my hands. I’d been calling her often to make amends, but it felt inadequate.

“Roo, look at me.” Cash put his finger to my jaw and tilted my face until I looked him in the eyes. “They’ll get over it.”

Pragmatic and straight to the point, my Cash. Never one for sugar coating things. I opened my mouth to respond, but suddenly he frowned. He cocked his head, listening intently and cursed. “I have to go.”

He pushed the bottle into my hands and got up to leave. Seconds later, a knock came at the door. A brooding mask fell over his countenance and he opened the door.

“I told you to wait for me,” he snapped rudely to somebody in the hallway. He braced the doorframe with an arm and blocked my view of the person with his body.

If I wanted to, I knew I could take the collar off and sense the aura to decipher his or her identity, but I was doing my best not to. I might end up overwhelmed. Lena said, that in time and with practice, I would learn to control it better, but for now, keeping myself separate to the energies around me was best. The desensitizing therapy was working in small steps, but I had a long way to go. Marc was the prime candidate to teach me more, considering he sensed auras as well as anyone, but like I said, he was gone and my heart ached every time I thought of that. Of course, there were always people back at the Empire who could help—apparently I had an army of private physicians—but I rebelled at the thought of leaving Earth. My life was here, and there was too much to fix. Starting with Urser.

It was the one thing that broke through my stupor—the desire to right the wrong and to stop the pain. That dream of a simple life, tending to the vineyard and perhaps starting a family was calling me. That, and Cash’s steady presence.

The female voice in the hallway sounded insistent.

“Let me get my things,” Cash said.

I got off the bed and padded barefoot across the carpet to the door.

Cash noticed me coming over and frowned. “Don’t worry about it, I got it. Go back to meditating. I’ll be back soon.”

He tried to shimmy through the crack in the door, but I stopped him. I opened the door wide.

“Hi Jacine,” I said with a wry smile.

“Your Majesty.” Jacine’s blue eyes widened. She wore a simple white sheath of a dress, patent leather heels that matched a shiny leather strap around her throat. Her baby pink bob had faded, and a silvery blond shone through. “Are you well?”

“Fine thanks,” I mumbled.

She wrung her fingers together.

“Roo, it’s okay,” Cash said. “You don’t need to worry about this.”

“The simple fact that you said that makes me think I do. What’s happened?”

“Not a word, Jacine,” Cash warned her then glared at me. “You’re not ready.”

“I think I am. It’s been months, and I feel good.”

“Last night you teleported to the bathroom in your sleep.”

My cheeks flamed. Marc’s ability had somehow developed in me. I’d always been able to travel with him, but in the centuries the queen had cloistered herself, no one really knew what she had become. I couldn’t create illusion-constructs or anything like that so the teleporting was useless unless I wanted to go around in the nude and, besides, I couldn’t control where I zapped to. But did Cash have to remind me of that in front of Jacine?

“Marc isn’t here to teach me, so that part is just going to have to do. Maybe I keep teleporting because I’m tired of being cooped up in here. Don’t try to shelter me, I can take it.” I focused my gaze on Jacine. “Now, tell me what it is.”

“Some information has come to light and we’ve called an emergency Tribunal meeting.”

Always with the meetings. “Well, that would involve me, right?”

“Jacine, give us a minute. I’ll be down in five.” Cash shut the door, closing Jacine off. He arched an eyebrow at me.

“What?”

“You’ve managed to keep yourself from crawling into the dirt because of the collar, but you know as well as I that you’ve only just begun to desensitize yourself. You need more therapy before you can call yourself fully healed.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been doing. It’s not just the collar helping me. In fact, we’ve been talking about removing it. I’ve got better control now than I ever had before.”

“No, you haven’t.”

I threw my hands up. “What do you call it then?”

“Not good enough. That’s what I call it. What happens if your hold slips and it comes crashing back in?”

“It won’t.”

“I’m not budging on this.”

“I can’t stay locked up here forever!”

“You want proof?” He cupped my face between his hands and kissed me hard, parting my lips with his tongue and delving inside. A spark of desire shot down my spine and I moaned, melting into him, tasting him. He smelled like rain and it made me want to drink him in. He knew I’d wanted this, I could feel his aura in that kiss. His energy bypassed the collar and he teased me with want. My hands slipped around his firm torso and flexed over the hard length of his back. I tugged him closer, laughing into his mouth.

I’ll show him proof. I opened my senses a little further, letting his essence trickle through. In a slippery zing, it cascaded into me, lighting me on fire, but I held strong. Hearing my heart gallop in my chest, and smelling my desire, Cash growled and pushed me back against the closed door.

“Roo,” he said, strained. He nipped my bottom lip.

“See?” I breathed. “I’m fine.”

“I’m not convinced.” He kissed me again, this time slower, controlled. While he distracted me with his tongue, his hands trailed down my neck, my shoulders, my chest. He found my breast and kneaded with his fingers, giving my nipple a tweak at the end. He swallowed my cry of pleasure-pain with a deeper kiss. Yes. This. I needed this. His energy trickled through, growing more insistent, forcing his emotions on me. Hope, love, lust, admiration and…

Pain seared my insides and I screamed. White haze clouded my vision. My knees went weak and I collapsed, eyes watering.

“Shh,” Cash whispered as he caught me. “I’ve got you. It’s okay.”

He took me to the floor and held me as I rode out the suffering.

“Breathe,” he said. “Focus on your breathing. In. Out.”

He breathed with me, coaching with his words, until the pain subsided and I was a pile of trembling mess in his arms. I whimpered, devastated, and slammed my forehead onto his chest. “Why can’t I control this?”

“You’ll get there. Just give it time.”

“You did that on purpose.” I wanted to hit him, but I couldn’t. He was right. Deep down, I knew it. I wasn’t ready.

“Roo,” he said softly. “When you and I can be together—fully—without you screaming in pain, then you can remove the collar and join us at the meetings. Until then, as much as it pains me to say, the second Marc gets back, he can train you, start honing your new skills. Too many people are at risk otherwise.”

I frowned. “What do you mean? Aren’t I just hurting myself?”

“Nobody knows what you’re capable of and your powers almost killed you.” A flicker of pain crossed his features. “But, I didn’t fall in love with a quitter, did I?”

I shot him a sardonic smile. “No, you didn’t.”

“So, you won’t give up. You’ll get better, and then we’ll get to the real work.”

His words incited inspiration. I wanted to stop Urser and end the Game, but I knew he was right. I could do none of it in my condition, but that didn’t mean I would sit idly by.

“Fine. What should I do, then?”

He crossed the room, picked up my phone and handed it to me. “Call your friend. Sort it out. Tomorrow morning we’ll continue therapy as planned.”

“That wasn’t exactly the sort of thing I was thinking about.”

“Roo. Call your friend.”

Chapter 20

In the morning I called Kitty. Because of the time difference it was still early afternoon where she lived. She answered on two rings.

“Babe, how are you feeling?” she asked.

It warmed my heart because she still thought of me first, before anything else. I didn’t deserve that. “I’m good. Getting better. How are you? How’s Alvin? I know he probably hates me, but if he’s up to it, I can talk to him, too.”

“Why would he hate you?”

“Because I ruined your wedding! I feel terrible.”

“Uh, I think you have a pretty good excuse. Besides… it wasn’t all you that caused the delay.” Her voice trailed off, her tone changing.

Oh no. “Is everything all right, Kitty?”

“Yes, it’s fine.”

I didn’t believe her. Instantly I thought of Eve and her threat of a hex. I hadn’t revealed my suspicions because if Kitty knew the possibility was there, like a ticking time bomb set to go off any moment, then she’d never get a good’s night sleep. I could examine her when I saw her next. Of course I had to control my abilities first. Then again, I could have her sent here.

“Roo? Are you there?”

“Yes, sorry. Just thinking. Are you sure everything is okay? What about you, how are you feeling?”

“I’m good. We’re all fine. Better than fine.” She sighed. “I suppose the news is going to come out sooner or later. I may as well tell you now.”

“Tell me what?”

A pause ticked away as I imagined the worse. The last time one of them was hexed, Alvin almost died. Petra had convinced his body that it was riddled with cancer. I still remembered his skin, sallow and sunken.

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted.

I forgot to breathe, and then I said the stupidest thing I ever could say, “You can’t be.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Um, I meant that I’m surprised, that’s all. Congratulations.”

“Well you don’t sound very excited.”

“I am, I am! I’m so happy for you.” But the hex…

“Roo. Babe. I can tell something is up. Are… are you jealous, or something?”

“No! Absolutely not. I—” I paused. Swallowed. Okay. Here goes. “Kitty, there’s something I’ve been keeping from you because I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Okay, now I’m worried.”

“Damn it!” My eyes watered and I bit my tongue. If I told her now, she might go and do something stupid like abort before we even had a chance to confirm the damage. I could just imagine her getting into hysterics because she thought the witch had programmed her body into making demon babies or something. No. I couldn’t let her worry. “Kitty, my recovery is taking longer than I thought and I don’t know when I can commit to coming back to Margaret River.”

“Oh.” She was silent for a beat. “Is that all?”

“Yes.” I lied.

“Babe,” she admonished. “I thought you were going to say something horrible, like, you’ve got ten days to live so make it good. Don’t ever say something like that again, do you hear?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Good—wait. You don’t have ten days to live, do you?”

“No. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

She breathed a sigh. “Okay, good. Now we got that out of the way, do you have a ball park for dates? Because I really don’t want to get married without my best friend, and, what about you and Mr. Devilishly Handsome? I know there’s been a lot going on for you two, but surely you’ve realized how perfect you are for each other by now.”

“Yes, we still want to marry. There are a few un-choice things keeping us apart at the moment though.”

“Has he gone away?”

“Not that kind of apart.” My tone was loaded with insinuation.

“Oooh. Bedroom talk. Babe, you know I’m right here. Give me the goss.”

A smile crept up my face and I felt like we were sitting next to each other, back at her place on the couch, a coffee in our hands. I filled her in on my performance issues.

“Hmm. Let me get this straight—you kiss and you burn up inside. You know there’s a cream for that, babe,” she joked.

“Har-har.” The sarcasm dripped from my voice. Still, I smiled along with her. “It’s just frustrating that’s all.”

“Do you know what you need to do?”

“What?”

“Get drunk.”

“I don’t think that’s a solution.”

“No, I mean it. Just think about it. Alcohol is a social lubricant, right? It loosens the body, breaks you free of inhibitions.” She sighed. “The last time I got drunk, Alvin and I decided to try something new. We started off—”

“Stop. Kitty. Stop. It’s Alvin. He’s like a brother to me. Gross. I don’t want to know that level of detail, thanks.”

“What?” she whined. “If I can’t talk about it with you, who can I talk about it with? Anyway, I was just going to say, that was the night we got pregnant.”

My gut twinged. The baby.

“Kitty, promise me that if you feel the slightest bit off, you’ll tell me, okay?”

“You won’t hear about my sexy times, but you’re all ears about me driving the porcelain bus?”

“What does that even mean, Kitty?”

“Morning sickness. Vomiting in the porcelain toilet. You’ve never heard that expression?”

“No.”

“Babe, you really are from another planet. You’ve been gone from Australia for too long.”

We laughed then, joked some more and kept going until finally, with tears teasing our eyes, we fell into a comfortable silence.

“No, seriously babe. Get drunk, boink your fiancé. What have you got to lose?”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

“Roo?” Kitty ventured, hesitant. “Promise me you’ll never leave.”

“You mean like, leave-leave?”

“Yeah, like interstellar leave.”

“I don’t want to, even if they try to make me.”

“They might force you to go?”

I shrugged, but realized she couldn’t see that down the line so said, “I’m working on it.” So far, the best scenario I could come up with was that the gate stayed closed, or it was destroyed.

“Well, if you need help plotting, I’m only a phone call away.”

“I love you too, Kitty,” I said.

“I can’t believe my best friend in the world turned out to be… I can’t even say it. It does my head in. Have you given any thought to your future here, in Margaret River? Will you take back the vineyard?”

I remembered the state Urser Manor was in when I visited, and the glory it used to be. Lush green fields. Juicy grapes on luscious vines. Now it was withering and dying. That house deserved a happy family running through its halls. A kernel of hope twinkled deep inside me at the thought. Maybe, just maybe, that happy family could start with Cash and me. I sighed. “Margaret River is one of the most beautiful places on earth.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. You’d better hurry coming home. Summer is nearly over and the surfing season is almost over. That means the surfers and their buff bodies are almost gone.”

“We can’t have that now, can we?”

“So… back to the wedding. We’re going to have it as soon as my morning sickness is gone. About a month away the doc said. I want to still fit my dress. Do you think you could handle that?” The sound of Kitty holding her breath was obvious.

“Yes. I promise.”

“Don’t promise, because that’s not working. Just try really really hard, okay?”

“You got it, sister.”

We said our goodbyes and I hung up the phone. Morning sun streamed through the large arched windows, and the snowy landscape cast a bluish hue. The weather was cooling down in Australia, but it was still icy cold here. I shivered and hugged myself. What was I thinking? It would never be warm in Budapest, but it was good enough for me to continue my training. Cash said to take my time, but…

Four weeks.

Sure. Plenty of time.

I eyed off the bottle of Chateau Margaux, on the bedside table. Maybe Kitty had a point. I picked up the bottle and turned it idly around.

The door opened and I startled.

“Just me,” Cash said, coming inside and closing the door behind him. “You ready to see Lena?”

I hastily put the bottle down.

“Everything okay?” Cash asked, a wary eye on the bottle. “You dropped that like it was on fire.”

“Nope. All good.” I smirked. Couldn’t help it. Already I imagined getting drunk with him. It would take our immortal bodies something massive to get there, though. Gallons of alcohol. Suddenly, the task seemed impossible. Perhaps Lena would know of something that worked for us better.

“Roo,” Cash said, eyes narrowing. “You look like the cat who’s caught the mouse.”

“It’s nothing. I swear.”

“And Kitty, how is she?” He gave me a sidelong glance as he collected my coat from the rack.

Now it was my turn to be wary. There was something about that look.

“As a matter of fact, she’s pregnant.” I grinned, coming up to him as he held the jacket out for me to slip into. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

If I had taken a second longer to sheath myself in my jacket, I would’ve missed the flicker of horror dance across his features before he settled into a more forgiving surprise. When I faced him again, warm in my puffer cocoon, I studied him. With Cash, there was no way of telling if he lied, even if I did have my full strength abilities. Unlike every other soul on this planet, the only way I sensed any emotion from him was when we kissed.

He flashed his eyebrows. “Pregnant?”

“I know it’s not ideal given her situation.”

He gulped. “Situation?”

“Why are you looking so weird? I meant the situation about her possibly being hexed.”

“Right. Yes. That was what I was thinking too.”

“Right.”

“Did you tell her? About the hex?”

“No. Not yet. I couldn’t worry her needlessly when we aren’t even sure ourselves. It could still all be a hoax. A careless word from us could have catastrophic consequences to the unborn child. She might freak out and terminate. I don’t want that.” I clenched his shirt, pulling the fabric at his chest into my fists. Determination pulled my face tight and I nodded to myself. “I’m going to get better, learn to use my abilities properly, and then I’ll find a way to test her more thoroughly. There has to be a way. I have four weeks to find out, then I promised we’d be at the wedding with her in Margaret River.”

He went quiet.

“Don’t worry, Cash. I can do it. I’m going to work hard, and before you know it, we’ll be back in sync.”

“Yes, in sync.” The faraway look in his eyes betrayed his thoughts.

“And then we’ll be going at it like hoppity bunnies,” I tested.

“Yes, bunnies.”

I rolled my eyes. “And we’ll have a million bunny babies and maybe even adopt a few whales.”

“Mmm.”

“Cash!” I slapped him on the shoulder.

“What?” He flinched, then met my gaze, clouds dissipating from his irises.

“For someone with superhuman hearing, you sure are deaf.”

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Never mind.” I took a few deep calming breaths, closed my eyes and centered myself. The peace I sought came easier each time I made my mental exercises. When I opened my eyes, Cash was staring off into space again. “C’mon. I’m ready to go,” I said.

“Where’s your phone?” he asked. “I’ll keep an eye on it while you’re in therapy.”

“Good idea,” I said, giving him the handset. “Lena doesn’t like me bringing it in.”

As we left the warm comfort of my room, I took once last glance at the bottle of red. Four weeks. I was willing to try anything.

Chapter 21

Cash dropped me off at the basement lab where Lena and Jesop worked, then he made his excuses and went to deal with something enforcementy. It felt odd visiting as a patient when I’d spent the first portion of my stay here purging the dark serum from infected Players and Watchers. I’d had it all sorted then. My powers were well within my control and I knew exactly where my limits laid. Now, I was on the opposite end.

As I walked through the stone arched entrance, I took a moment to take in the scenery before me. The room was split into a few examination areas with reclining chairs and curtains, and a lab area with microscopes and other technical pieces of equipment. Lena, with her long flowing silver hair and gauze blindfold, had her hands running over a person who laid back on a reclined chair. The privacy curtain wasn’t drawn, so I guessed it was an informal visit.

Jesop sat in the lab area some feet away, twirling something liquid in a test tube. His gift of alchemy meant he could change the structure of matter at an atomic level. Because he was in Corvus House with Lena, he dedicated his skill to prolonging life and for the best intentions of our race. He was a Player, though, which meant he could return to the Empire at any moment if he was fired upon by other Players and killed. Lena was a Watcher, meaning she was Seraphim and stuck on Earth. If she died, it would be permanent. No returning to the Empire for her. The chilling reminder skittered down my spine. The Game wasn’t over, and I was the only one who could do anything about it. Nobody would listen to me, though, unless I could control myself.

So far Marc had rounded up many of the Player stragglers and returned their souls to the Empire. According to the Ludus records, there were thirty-two Players left with tracking chips still activated. Like Jesop, these had decided to stay on Earth to help us at the refuge. There were almost two hundred Nephilim unaccounted for. These were most likely turned into darklings, making their bio-signature not recognizable to the tracking system we had inserted at our registration for the Game. The traitorous Watchers had no trackers in them, so we had no idea how many were gone. We just had to estimate based on the amount that went missing when Urser attacked Luduses and infected many with the dark serum.

“Roo, you’re here.” Lena’s head lifted from her task and tilted my way. She couldn’t see through the blindfold covering her empty eye sockets, but her senses saw for her. She probably picked up on my guilt. “I’ll be with you in a moment,” she said.

“No rush,” I replied. “I’ll just go and say hi to Jesop.”

I walked through the cold, stone room and made it to Jesop’s side. He leaned in to the ocular end of a microscope, inspecting the slide beneath. He sat with his hoodie pooled around his shoulders. The Corvus House logo spread across his broad back. It was the symbol of a blindfolded crow, wings spread. The motto of Corvus House was about crows never pecking the eyes out of another crow. Of course, in Latin it sounded more romantic. It was supposed to represent a sort of Hippocratic oath, similar to the ones human doctors took.

Jesop kept his head and jaw shaved, a style that forced his sharp features into focus. From the profile, the angles of his face stood out, making him a clear biological descendant of Lena. Strong, determined and steady. Where Lena imbued a calming, no-nonsense confidence, Jesop came with the impetuous temperament of a teenager. Except he was well over six-foot tall and in his mid-twenties.

“Hey, mate, how are you?” I asked. He was also brought up in Australia so had a slight Aussie twang to his accent. Every time we spoke, our local vernacular had a way of resurfacing.

He tilted his head toward me to let me know he was aware, then went back to his study. After a minute of silence, he stated simply, “Roo.”

He never liked me at the start, I was sure. But I liked to hope I’d grown on him. I sometimes wondered if the Players I clashed with had a problem with me back in the Empire and, unknowingly, they carried the innate feeling forward into this world.

“What you looking at?” I asked after a while.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

He sighed and sat back. “I’m testing the effect of receptor binding specificity on the immunogenicity and protective efficacy of a darkling virus vaccine.”

I stared for a few seconds, letting the big words soak into my little brain.

“You don’t know what I said, do you?” he asked.

“Sure I do. You’re creating a vaccine.” He said the word vaccine, so that must be it. Then the gravity of it hit me. “Wow. You’re creating a vaccine. Really?”

“Don’t get too excited. Nothing is working yet.”

I leaned on the counter to get closer to the microscope, as if I could determine whether the sample was effective by staring at it. Jesop raised an eyebrow as I moved into his personal space. He slid the scope an inch away from me.

“So,” I said, “what’s not working? Is it because it originates from Urser and the dark serum might be different every time?”

“How did you know that?”

“I saw him kill a plant with a drop of blood. Then he touched Wren and black things sprouted on her face. Was crazy scary.”

He scrubbed a hand down his face and checked over his shoulder. “Don’t you have therapy to start?”

“You mean the therapy to return me to my rightful power as Queen of all living things?”

“Do you want a medal or something?”

“I’ll give you a medal in a minute.”

“Yeah, real mature, Roo.”

We scowled at each other. I couldn’t tell if he was being serious. I wasn’t. Then he grinned, shook his head and returned to his work.

“Go bug the Gamekeeper with your childishness,” he grunted. “You two are peas in a pod.”

“I’m childish!” I scoffed playfully, then seriousness stole over me. I leaned on the bench with my elbow, chin in my palm, pouting. “I would, but he’s not back from his trip to the Empire.”

Jesop’s eyes met mine. “Yeah he is. Got back last night. Maybe you stink or something. Must have been all that crawling in the mud you did in the Amazon.”

“Because I like you, I’m going to ignore that. He’s back. Really?”

“Yep. Saw him in the kitchen on his way to the Tribunal meeting. He was pestering the cook for some honey cakes.”

“Huh.” It seemed everyone was invited to that meeting, except me. Then a thought hit me. “So, the vaccine… Urser said it was never a serum in the first place, but I figured whatever he’s done to his blood to make its poison transmittable must be a serum, right? My memory is a little hazy, but I think he said it took him some time to work out how to make it work with Seraphim and Nephilim, as opposed to the easier infection of humans. Nephilim were the perfect bridge between the two species.”

Jesop straightened like he’d been electrically shocked. “His blood. Oh my God, Roo, you’re a genius.”

“I am? Yeah I am. What did I say?”

“I’m ready now, Roo,” Lena called. The person she’d been examining was gone, freeing up the reclining seat. “Come and sit down. Let’s talk.”

I turned back to Jesop. “I think you’re doing a stellar job, by the way. And…” I paused after taking a step away. “I never thanked you properly for helping me recover back in the Amazon, so thank you. I’m really glad you’re here.”

Before he could complain, I hugged him. His lanky frame stiffened beneath me and I laughed. His cheeks went red.

“Peace-out, Jesop,” I said.

“Whatever, Roo,” he mumbled with a grin, and went back to work.

Chapter 22

“Okay, Your Majesty, please lie down so I can assess your condition.” Lena gestured to the long patent leather recliner. It was a pale, dusty blue thing and had come straight out of one of the Librarian’s Ludus chamber. And that gave me the jitters—remembering what happened to me when the Librarian had her fingers in my temple always made me cringe. But that was months ago and I’d been here many times. Plastic squeaked as I eased myself on. I don’t know why Lena couldn’t just put me on a chair, or a normal gurney. This was way too clinical and a contradiction to the manner of her examination. Her skills were emotion based. Reclining on a comfy couch would feel more like a therapist’s office. I’m sure I’d be more forthcoming.

“For the hundredth time, please call me Roo.”

A derisive snort came from the back of the room where Jesop worked.

I shot a withering glare laced with humor and then made myself comfortable. For the past three weeks I’d come here daily. Each time Lena called me Your Majesty and I’d said to call me Roo. Every time Lena ignored me, and Jesop snorted, and I shot the stare his way. That’s why I smiled. Routine bred complacency and comfort. Everything was going to be okay.

Her cool palm pressed to my forehead. “How have you been feeling?”

“Um, okay I guess.”

“Headaches, pain?”

“Not too much.”

“Anything out of the ordinary?”

“There was one episode when”—I glanced at Jesop warily and lowered my voice—“I kissed Cash. His essence was too much and, well, you know.”

Another snort from Jesop and I could’ve sworn I heard a mumbled, His essence was too much, before a second snort and, That’s what she said.

Lena’s brow furrowed but she ignored him. “I thought you weren’t being intimate until we had this under wraps.”

“That’s what Cash said too. I thought I could handle it. Seriously I did. I’ve been doing really well and… it was just a kiss. Needless to say I was proven wrong. It hurt like hell.”

“But you got on top of it easily?” Lena’s hands hovered down to my chest area, sensing my inner energy. “You used our techniques and the pain receded?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, that’s good. And are there any other side-effects of the conversion, or other abilities surfacing that we need to prepare for?”

“You mean besides the pain of all living things and the sporadic teleporting to strange places in my sleep? No. Not yet.” We had been over these questions repetitively, and so far, the answers were basically the same. “Same deal. Then again, I haven’t been out of the grounds much or exposed myself to multiple energies at one time.”

Her palms moved to my stomach. “So just to clarify, the teleporting, better, worse, same?”

“Well, Cash found me asleep in the bathroom last night. In an empty tub. I was wearing a nightie before bed, and turned up nude, so definitely wasn’t sleepwalking.”

Jesop laughed.

“Excuse me Mr. Nosey,” I called over. “If you can’t be professional about this, you can leave.”

“My sentiments exactly,” Lena said. “Jesop? First and final warning.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled and hunched over his scope.

“As I was saying, it’s still on the grounds and mainly happens only when I’m asleep.”

Lena made a sound of discernment, similar to a hum, but she didn’t elaborate. Made me think she knew something she wasn’t ready to reveal.

“Well,” Lena said, “your readings are good. Stable. I think everything you’ve explained can still be gauged well within the normal limits and expectations of your current situation. We can start the second part of your therapy session.”

I pulled myself up into a seated position, legs dangling over the side of the chair while Lena felt around the nearby table for her notebook. She uncapped the pen that had been sitting in its folds and held it out in Jesop’s direction.

“Jesop, honey, can you please take some notes?”

“I can do it if you like,” I offered, thinking it must be hard to do that without the function of her eyes.

“That’s not necessary. Jesop understands my shorthand and knows what details I need recorded. You just relax and worry about yourself.”

Jesop was on a wheelie stool and instead of walking over, he pushed off the bench with his foot. The sound of plastic wheels skittering across stone filled the room. Then he hit the bench next to Lena and hopped off. He offered the seat to Lena. She graciously took it. I watched for a minute as they relocated to a stainless steel table next to me and quietly discussed her readings of my aura while he quickly scribbled. Lena said something and Jesop’s tall lanky frame leaned down to confer with her as he flicked through some recent pages of the notebook. Softly spoken words and little nods of approval gave me a sudden sense of déjà vu. From the way they moved—excited, thoughtful and pensive at the same time—I felt drawn to them. Every day for the last few weeks I’d watched them during moments like those with a sense of affinity.

“Did we work together?” I asked, swinging my feet so they moved idly beneath my recliner.

Lena’s head tilted my way and she paused. She said nothing, only frowned.

“I meant,” I added, “did we work together when I was originally here as the queen—in the beginning. You seem like the kind of person I would have worked with to get this”—I waved around the room—“science experiment off the ground.”

“Did you have a memory?” she asked, interested.

“No… just a feeling.”

“If you’re alluding to creating life on this planet, then yes. We did. Sometimes very closely.”

“Were we friends?”

Lena’s mouth twisted and, without full access to my aura sensing abilities, I couldn’t decipher her meaning. The collar still blocked a large portion of my skills.

Her naked expression of sadness hit me in the chest. She’d suffered so much. She lost her eyes because an original darkling (created by my apparent son and/or brother in law) scratched them out. And that wasn’t the worst thing the queen and her family had done to her. What I had done to her. I’d let them suffer, and then condemned all Seraphim to be Watchers, despite their loyalty to me or not. I must have been unable to discern if they were traitors so banished them all and Lena had been stuck right in the middle of that decree.

“So you must hate me, right? For being the queen who kept you confined to this planet?”

She sighed. “I think it’s long past time to feel anything as primitive as hate. It’s a strong word. Perhaps once or twice I did, as did many Watchers, I’m sure. It’s complicated now. However, many of us are questioning our beliefs after Urser unleashed darkness once again. We thought the danger was long gone and the quarantine should be lifted, but it’s back. It will always be back as long as he is alive. If we feel hate for anyone, it’s Urser.”

I grimaced.

“You’re not convinced,” she added.

“No. I feel as though—”

“It’s a burden you have to bear.”

“Yeah. Sort of.”

Lena wheeled her stool closer to me and placed a palm on my leg. “I believe this guilt you feel is part of your problem.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I sense it oozing out of your every pore. You need to accept what has happened. Stop looking to the past, because then you’re not focusing on what’s in front of you. You miss so much. Shouldering the blame for all of the world’s problems will only send you insane. In fact, it almost did.”

“The Amazon,” I said, nodding, looking at my entwined fingers.

“No, the Empire.”

I glanced up. “What do you mean?”

“You really don’t remember do you?” I sensed a change in her then, a tumbling of walls. Her shoulders relaxed as air left her lungs. “You spent so much time locked away in reclusion, dwelling on your guilt and pain, that you forsook the people who needed saving here on Earth. Do you really want history to repeat?”

A burning hit the back of my eyelids. I had people who cared for me now. Cash, Kitty, Alvin… “I will be better.”

“I know you want to be, but you won’t be until you accept the past and know that you can’t control everything in the future.”

I inspected my fingernails. They’d been picked short from my daily chewing, and without being able to use my abilities, I had to refrain from making them nice again. No purple colored nail polished tips. Just worn, jagged edges.

“How do I accept something I don’t remember or fully understand?”

“That’s something you’ll have to work out. For the most part, this is where the relaxation techniques and coping mechanisms you’ve learned will help. Soon, it will become second nature. The meditation is going well, yes?”

“Yes, it’s fine.”

“Good.”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Don’t strain yourself,” Jesop mumbled.

“Jeez, you’re on fire today, aren’t you?” I snapped at him.

He arched a brow at me. Lena chose to ignore the snark. I had a feeling Jesop tested me like this to help me focus on something else apart from what I knew was going to happen next: the hour long session of pain. Just thinking about it pulled all the muscles in my neck tight.

“You were thinking?” Jesop reminded me.

“A friend of mine said that getting drunk would help me relax and lower my inhibitions, maybe making it easier for me to open up my senses.”

Lena tapped her finger on her mouth. “It could work. It’s a crude technique, but if your anxiety levels are lowered then you’ll react less to the energy you sense, or care less about feeling guilty. Then again, it could cause your body to completely give way under lack of restraint and you could end up catatonic again. No, I don’t think so. There’s no way of testing it. Too risky.”

I slumped. “And I suppose I’d have to drink an entire bottle of whiskey to get drunk enough for an hour of buzz.”

“More,” she said. “That’s the rate of human alcohol needed for Nephilim inebriation. Which you aren’t any more.”

“Really? That sucks. You Watchers can’t get drunk? No wonder Marc drinks so much.”

“Marc is a delinquent. That’s why he drinks so much.”

“Surely there’s something made for Seraphim that works like wine for humans.”

“Oh yes, I didn’t say there was nothing for us. Just nothing we can get here on Earth. Ambrosia existed only in the earliest days here until it got used up. Without the proper ingredients to make more, we eventually ran out.” She shrugged. “Losing our senses and inhibitions isn’t exactly ideal when we could risk exposing our identities to the human race, anyway.”

“Like I said. That really sucks. If it were up to me, I’d send you all home right now.”

Both Lena and Jesop stilled.

“It was a joke,” I added. “I don’t really know how to do that.”

“But you see, it is up to you, Roo,” Jesop said. Lena clicked her tongue in disapproval. “Look, I know I can leave any time with Marc, but I can’t leave Lena here unprotected.”

“Yeah, I get it. We have to stop Urser, right? And the gate can’t be opened, not without my blood or something as a biometric key, right?”

“Yes, of course,” Lena said.

“And my current blood-type is too dissimilar to my original to work, right?”

Jesop was the one who answered, as he prepared the alchemic concoctions that had transfused into me over the last few weeks. “I’ve done all I can to replicate what was left over from the original and from your blood now. The thing is, your current DNA sequence is in a state of flux. You keep changing. And the replication I’ve made is always going to be a cheap knock-off. I guess we’ll find out if its worthy of opening the gate when we actually get a chance to be in front of it. Hasn’t Urser commandeered it?”

“We think so,” I replied. “ It’s near the lab we destroyed. But, you know I’m all willing, right? I’d do that in a heartbeat to get you away from Urser. We’ll get the gate back, and we’ll get it to work. Don’t worry.”

“Roo,” Lena said. “Like I said, stop blaming yourself. Focus on healing, then we’ll worry about the rest later. Attempting to open the gate now would only pose another risk. We have a duty to eradicate the virus Urser’s created before it wipes the world, and infects the Empire. ”

“Do you think there’s another way to send you home without risking that?”

“That’s why I’m working on the vaccine,” Jesop said. Then he turned to Lena. “Do you need me anymore?”

“No, you can return to your work. Thank you.”

A note of sadness had crept into both of their voices. Jesop was a Player and free to leave for the Empire any time he wanted. In fact, we’d all encouraged it. The danger that the dark serum would fuse his soul to his body was too great, and if that happened, he’d never return home. He insisted on staying to help anyway.

So I could put up with his snark because there was a heart of gold behind it.

“The sooner I can desensitize myself, the sooner I can kick Urser’s butt and you can all go home. Let’s do this.”

We removed my collar. At first, it took me a while to get used to the pain. I spent the next hour routinely running through my relaxation techniques to get on top of my senses. Once that onerous task was done, I had to learn to reopen myself to the energy in the room, a sliver at a time until I could push my awareness out a foot, then a yard, then more—inch by inch. When I could cope with Lena’s and Jesop’s aura energy, I pushed further out of the confines of the thick stony walls of the room and beyond into the gardens and the buzz of life from nature. By the time we were done, my body was covered in a thick layer of sweat. I beat my personal best, though. I extended my awareness across two rooms on the interior, and on the exterior, to the edge of the forest that surrounded the castle. One attempt, I’d sensed about seven people at a time and had zero episodes of crippling pain. It wasn’t until I sensed the immense block of nature that I really packed it in and collapsed, writhing in agony. At the start of my therapy, I couldn’t stand to be in the same room as anyone other than Cash without wanting to vomit from pain.

“Good session,” Lena said, patting my leg. “You’re improving. We’ll adjust the settings on your collar to allow a little more energy in. At this rate, you’ll be fully recovered in a few months.”

“A few months! I don’t have a few months.” Kitty’s wedding was a few weeks away. I covered my face, thinking of her unborn child. I had to get on top of this so I could help her. I couldn’t ruin her second go at marital bliss by delivering the news her child could be hexed.

“We can’t rush it without risk,” Lena said.

“But I’m needed,” I said. “There are so many things I can do to help.”

“Patience. Now, if you will excuse me, our session is over. I have a house call to make.” With the grace of someone who had sight, Lena packed up a medical bag and left the room, her long skirt trailing behind her. She really was amazing.

But months… My limbs liquefied and I flopped backwards onto the chair, groaning, feeling very much like a drama queen. I reclined and rested the back of my hand on my forehead. “This isn’t going to work. I need to be better, now.”

“You heard her, Roo. It takes time. Stop complaining.”

“No, you don’t understand. There are lives at risk. A baby!” I chewed my lip. “Don’t tell Lena, but I’m going to try the drunk thing.”

“You’re pregnant?” Jesop gasped.

“No! Definitely not.” Cash and I would have to have sex first for that to happen. Still, a small niggling feeling in my gut made me disappointed that I wasn’t saying to Jesop, Yes I’m pregnant. I quickly shook the thought away. Cash and I were way off discussing that topic and it certainly wasn’t the time or place to play happy family. “It’s a friend of mine who might be hexed. Eve may have done something to her before she died, and I believe I have the skills to detect the truth, maybe even fix it.”

“Lena might, too.”

“But I’ve used witchcraft before and, unless I’m mistaken, Lena hasn’t.”

“No. She hasn’t, but you still need to say something.”

“Not with this. It doesn’t look good if I selfishly commandeer her to Australia when she’s needed here. I’m confident I can work it out once I harness my full powers. So I’ll try the alcohol.”

“Really? You’ll drink a few bottles of rum in one sitting?”

I glanced over at him. “Sure, why not. Well, maybe not rum. There’s got to be something out there that’s high in alcohol content and will work faster. So, yeah. I can take it. Can’t be worse than what I’ve already been through, right?”

“Well, I never pegged you for a party girl, Roo.” Jesop grinned.

“I live to please.” I sighed and slung my legs over the chair and pushed myself off. “Thanks for your help, Jesop.”

“Wait. Before you go.” He held up a finger to me and ducked under his desk. I heard the sound of a tiny fridge door open, bottles tinkling, and then a soft slam as it closed again. When he resurfaced, he held a small corked test tube filled with pearlescent golden liquid. “Take this.”

“What is it?”

“Ambrosia.”

I gasped and rushed over to collect it. “But I thought it was all gone?”

“It is. I made more.”

“Are you allowed to do that?”

“Why do you think I waited until Lena was out before I showed you?”

“But… how did you do it?”

“I’m an alchemist, Roo,” he stated, as if that meant everything.

“You found a stash somewhere and replicated it, didn’t you.”

“Yeah. A few years ago one of the Watchers—”

“It was Marc, wasn’t it?”

“—gave me an empty bottle. Yes. Yes it was Marc. The sample was enough to scrape for traces of Ambrosia and replicate. I’ve been making bootleg portions since.” He gave me a stern look. “You have to promise to use it wisely. Don’t overdo it. Just a drop on your tongue will give you the same intensity as a standard drink for humans. It takes about the same time to wear off too.”

“Okay. A couple of drops, no problem. Got it.”

“Make sure someone else is with you too. I don’t want this ending in disaster and tracing back to me. Don’t double dose because you’re impatient. And don’t go getting addicted to it. I won’t be your drug dealer.”

“Okay. No problem.”

“And don’t give it to humans. It can kill them.”

I saluted. “Anything else?”

He grumbled. “No, that should do it. Why do I have a feeling I’m going to regret this?”

I surprised him with another hug.

“Please stop doing that.”

“I can’t. You’re so nice.”

He scowled at me but leaned into the hug.

“Thanks, Jesop,” I said.

Chapter 23

Jed picked me up from therapy. I needed a chaperone in case I had an episode, and with the new adjusted and lowered settings on my collar, that may well be the case. Although, Cash must have been confident of my condition because this was the third time this week he’d sent Jed in his stead. Still, I wasn’t complaining. I gave Jed a quick hug when I saw him, noticing hard biceps under my hands. The ex-police officer was always fit, but it seemed he’d been bulking up.

“I haven’t seen you for a few days,” I said. “Where have you been?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” he replied vaguely and walked out of the lab.

I stuck my head outside of the room, testing the new settings. After a moment to acclimatize myself to the biting cold and tingle of energy coming through the sensors, I stepped fully out. A recent snowfall had transformed the gardens into white lumps of odd shapes. Snow-laced evergreen vines covered the facade of the medieval castle and sparkled like diamonds in the sun, and the ground was covered in a white shimmering carpet that stretched to the forest in the distance. The sight took my breath away every time. We walked around the castle to the main entrance. I was so enthralled by the beauty of the white gardens that I almost missed a pair of Watchers walking down the steps as I walked up. Cato and Thurstan sidestepped me.

“Watch it,” Thurstan said, a cloud puffing from his mouth.

“Thurstan,” his father warned.

“It’s okay. Sorry, my fault.” I blew air on my hands to keep them warm.

“Apologize, Thurstan.” Cato placed a firm hand on his son’s shoulder.

Thurstan glared at his father but turned to me, conceding. “I apologize, Your Majesty. I will take more care in future.”

With that, they went down the steps and toward a shiny black car where they got in and drove off. Jed and I watched them whisk away down the curving driveway and out the electric cast iron gates.

Jed made an unsettled sound deep in his throat, as though he were sizing up what had just happened and didn’t like it.

“You don’t like them?” I asked.

“I don’t know what it is. Just a feeling, I suppose. Nothing to worry about. Come on, let’s go.”

He smiled at me, eyes twinkling over a freckled nose. His auburn dyed hair was cut short and curled a little at the ends. Enough to flick over his ears that stuck out. Similar to Cash, he wore a long black-sleeved shirt and dark trousers. His arms were definitely thicker than I remembered, more muscly. He had been working out. I studied him surreptitiously as we walked. Someone to impress or gearing up for the impending battle with Urser?

“So, the usual.” I patted the small sheen of sweat that had appeared on my forehead. “What does that mean?”

“The usual? Oh. You mean what have I been up to? Well, wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yes. Yes I would. That’s why I asked.”

“Relax, Roo. No one’s keeping secrets from you.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Right.”

We continued further into the foyer of the giant castle. It still surprised me that the enormous stone structure belonged to Jacine. I would’ve pegged her for a five-star modern hotel sort of gal. I wondered if the place held any sentimental value. To have been a fly on those walls over the years, the things you’d see would be fascinating.

“Either way,” Jed added, “you’ll have to get over it until you’re better.”

“Ugh. Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

As he led the way toward the steps, I thought of something.

“Do you know where Marc is? I’d like to see him.”

“No, I don’t know where he is. Thought he was at the Empire.”

“He was, but Jesop said he saw him in the kitchen last night.”

Jed was silent for a bit, then said, “Didn’t think he’d be back so soon.”

“Not you too.”

“Me too what?”

“Don’t blame him for what happened to me. It was my fault I went to the Amazon.”

“Mm.”

“So you haven’t seen him?”

“No. Sorry.”

“All right. Onwards and upwards then.” I patted the test tube of Ambrosia in my pocket, thinking of how I would use it to seduce Cash. A sneaky smile spread on my face as a plan formed in my head. I felt positively wicked. First I would have to spike his food or drink. My plan would only work if he was a little drunk, too, because if he was completely sober, there was no way he’d be intimate with me. Of course I’d never entertain the thought of actually drugging him! But a drop or two wouldn’t go astray to loosen him up. I remembered the first time I’d met him when I served him a drink at The Cauldron. I’d thought the same thing then, too. I laughed. Nothing much has changed.

“What’s so funny?” Jed asked.

“Nothing. Just thinking about planning something special for Cash. Can we stop by the kitchen? I want to pick up something nice to take back to my room.”

Jed shrugged.

Guessed that was a yes. Instead of heading up the enormous stairs, we bypassed them to find our way to the kitchen. Situated in a far nook of the castle, we had to walk through a few passageways before we got there. The smell of garlic and butter cooking preceded us, confirming our correct trajectory. My stomach cramped in delight.

As we approached, voices halted me outside the open stone arched doorway. I held up a palm and Jed stopped next to me. I made the shush sign—finger to the lips—and focused on the voices.

“You said the honey cakes would be ready five minutes ago.”

“No. I said they be out of the oven five minutes ago. Don’t get your knickers in a knot.”

“Well, it’s the same bloody thing, in’it?”

I smiled. Marc.

“No dear, it is not,” the female said.

“Why aren’t they cooling already? Is it my presence? Am I making the room too hot?”

A snort and a chuckle I assumed came from the cook, then: “Dear, you make every room hot.”

“See, this is why I like you, love. You’re so perceptive.” Thwack. “Ow. Why did you do that?”

“Because they’re not ready yet.”

“But I don’t like waiting.”

“Sometimes waiting is the right thing to do. Eat the cakes too early and you scald your mouth. Then again, wait too long and the cakes are stale.”

“How do I know when they are ready?”

“Maybe you should stop hiding in the kitchen and ask.”

Silence extended.

“You’re not talking about the cakes are you, Maggie?”

An agreeable sound came as it seemed Maggie paced around the room.

I cleared my throat and entered the kitchen.

Marc sat on a stool at the center island, chin in his hand, drooling over a set of steaming cakes on a cooling rack. He wore his youthful teenager appearance, dressed in tight jeans, skin-hugging shirt—open at the chest. When I entered, he whipped his head my way. Icy blue eyes widened. A glance at my collar. A conflicted frown, and then he disappeared. The tiny grains of dust and particles that made up his clothing construct cascaded to the ground.

The cook cursed. “Now I must sweep that up.”

As you would expect in a castle like this, the kitchen was a carved, raw stone structure but with modern appliances. Stainless steel benches for food preparation contrasted against the antique oak table taking up the rest of the room. There were tins and pans and utensils hanging from hooks around the room. Lavender bunches hung upside down over the stone archway behind the stove along with Rosemary twigs entwined into a bouquet, and garlic from string. Unlike the rest of the castle, the room was warm and welcoming, perhaps an atmosphere helped by the plump (but not overweight) cook wearing a gray apron now using a dustpan and brush to sweep up the mess Marc had left. She had thin brown hair tied at the nape of her neck into a knot. Her cheeks were flushed red and perspiration dotted her nose and forehead, giving her pale skin a mottled look.

“Can I help you, dears?”

I stared for a moment, trying to ascertain if she were human, Nephilim, or Seraphim. A surge of irritation flashed in me. If I hurried the hell up and got my abilities under control, I’d know that straight away. In the end, I settled for Hungarian.

“Hello,” I said and gave a short wave. “I’m Roo. I’m… ah… I’m staying here with Cash.”

She gave Jed a knowing look then smiled at me. “I know who you are, dear. I’ve been making your meals for the past few months.”

“Oh. Great. The food tastes wonderful, by the way. Really top-notch stuff.”

“Top-notch, huh? I’ll take that as a compliment. What can I do you for?”

“I’d like to have a nice meal made up for tonight, it’s a special occasion for me and Cash.”

Maggie tried to hide a smile as she returned her pan and brush to a hidden alcove. “And what do you want for tonight? The rest of the house is having Brisket.”

“Um.” I had to think about it. Cash’s eating habits were still a bit of a mystery to me. I’d bet if she asked him what I wanted, he’d have an answer quick smart. “Brisket is fine, thank you.”

“And the cakes. You should take all of them to your room.”

“All of them?”

She smirked. “Then a certain someone will have to stop dilly dallying and finally get out of my kitchen.”

Smart lady, that Maggie. She set the cakes in a Tupperware container and urged Jed to help me take them up to my room. They smelled delicious. If Marc didn’t turn up, I certainly wouldn’t have trouble polishing them off.

Jed walked me through the large castle until we got to my upstairs room. After I said goodbye to him, I set about the room to arrange everything for my romantic dinner for two. I shifted the tiny round table closer to the window that looked over the grounds painted in sunset oranges and pinks. The bed was already made, and the rest of the room was immaculate. As usual, the cleaning fairy had been in while I’d been out. The four-poster bed had its coverlet straightened, its pillows plumped and the white curtains drawn back to reveal said pillows. I found the bottle of wine Cash had brought and placed in on the table with two wine glasses, and then I put the vial of Ambrosia next to it. Seeing the little tube of glittering liquid made my gut twinge. For a moment, I stared at it stupidly, then realized that feeling inside was guilt. And rightly so, getting Cash drunk to seduce him was a low thing to do… even if it did mean I might get control of my abilities. I also might not.

Perhaps this was a bad idea.

I took a shower and thought it over some more. I had no solid plan, but I knew I had to do something. What were my alternatives? The slow going therapy while Kitty’s unborn child was in danger? It wasn’t good enough.

Every time I closed my eyes to wash my face under the hot stream, I saw flashes of the dead bodies in the Amazon village. They haunted me nightly. More so than losing my friends Wren and Lincoln. Yes, the images of their deaths were painful, but knowing their souls were safe and sound back at the Empire helped with that pain. Living like this was not on. I couldn’t wait any longer. I had responsibilities and friends to protect, not to mention all the innocents in danger from Urser’s macabre plans.

I shut off the shower faucet, listless determination twisting my heart into confusion. I wanted—needed—to do something useful. My mind and skin were red raw, but I was determined… not desperate. I knew now that I couldn’t go through with Operation The Hangover. Cash’s dignity would remain intact. Instead, I dressed in some sensible jeans and a t-shirt and sat, barefoot, on one of the chairs next to the round table with my chin in my hand, staring at the vial.

I still stared when, a few minutes later, came a timid knock at the door.

“Come in,” I mumbled.

The door creaked open, ajar for a few inches, and then paused. Mildly interested, I flicked my gaze to the gap to see if I could ascertain who was beyond the door. The collar around my neck still blocked the majority of essences and life-force from my senses. But, a little was all I needed to tell who was there. How could I miss him? His aura was always so virulent.

“Come in, Marc.” I went back to staring at the vial. Surely my answer was in there somewhere. “I have your honey cakes.”

The door swung all the way open, as though he’d decided to dispense with the shenanigans and project bravado instead. Marc stood in the hallway, dressed in a dapper three-piece-suit. His hair was brushed and styled, and he appeared in all honesty to be in his Sunday best.

“Come in, Marc,” I said again.

He took a deep breath and entered, shutting the door quietly behind him.

“I missed you,” I said. “I haven’t seen you for a while.”

His blue eyes popped at my words. “You missed me? I mean, you’re not angry at me?”

“Why would I be angry at you? I’m not Cash. He’s grumpy at anyone, please don’t take his moods to heart.”

“But I’m responsible for you almost dying. Real dying. Not fake dying.” The words choked out of him. I’d never seen him so distraught.

“Really, Marc. I’m fine. And I’m a big girl. You didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do.” I shook my head and went back to the vial. “Frankly, I’m a bit sick and tired of people thinking they can make my decisions for me. Sit down, have a cake and let’s talk.”

Marc promptly sat down opposite me on the only remaining chair, chewed his lip and fiddled with his suit collar. Eventually, I was silent enough for his gaze to wander down to the table to what I was looking at. Immediately, his expression lifted to joyful glee.

“Hello, love. What’s this?” He picked up the Ambrosia and twirled it against the halogen lighting of the room, letting little shots of light twinkle and reflect on his fingers. Then he said with a knowing gleam in his eyes: “You’ve been holding out on me.”

And with that, the tension between us dissipated.

“Are we having a party?” Marc smirked.

“No. Well. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Then what is it, love? You can tell me.”

I sighed. “I’m sick of this collar. I’m sick of this room. My friend needs help. Nobody is telling me anything about what’s going on out there. What else. Let’s see, oh yeah, I want to get drunk on Ambrosia so I can take the collar off and fix myself.”

“Get drunk and fix yourself.” His eyebrow raised on one side and for a moment I thought he was going to berate me, then: “Where do I sign up?”

“You’re not going to tell me it’s a bad idea?”

“Ambrosia is never a bad idea. Now, let’s see. We could just pop a few drops in our mouth but it’s got a bit of a bitter taste. Better use it with a glass of this.” He picked up the expensive bottle and inspected the corked neck.

“Oh, probably not that,” I said. “That’s a special bottle Cash—”

Pop!

“I’m sorry, love, what were you saying?”

I dropped my head in my palm. The glug-glug sound of wine being poured made me groan in exasperation. A sweet yet slightly tangy and plummy scent filled the air. Cash was going to kill me. I lifted my head and eyed off the now half empty bottle. “What the hell, I guess, in for a penny, in for a pound, right?”

“That’s my girl. Here you go.” He handed me a glass and then swirled the burgundy fluid in his glass. He sniffed and moaned appreciatively. “Smells like bloody good plonk, this does.” He took a sip. “Mmmm.”

I hesitantly lifted the glass to my lips and let the rich bouquet infuse my senses before I swilled in my mouth. The instant satisfaction and warmth radiated through my body and all my muscles relaxed. A sigh escaped me.

“So good.” I licked my lips and took another sip.

Marc turned the old bottle around in his hands. “Where did you say you got it?”

“It’s Cash’s. It’s, like, hundreds of years old or something.”

“What?” Marc choked on his drink. “The hunter’s?”

“Don’t worry, we can save him some.”

“Yes. Good idea, love. We’ll save him some.” Marc’s expression turned serious and he placed the bottle back on the table with care. He picked up a cake. “So how does getting sloshed help with your problem?”

“Well, the idea is that, after I’m drunk, I’ll take the collar off and the energy I sense won’t cripple me anymore because I’ll be too drunk to care.”

“Right. Right. Uh-huh. And what happens if you do care?”

“Well, I guess, you can pop the collar back on.”

Marc eyed my collar suspiciously. “And the hunter was okay with this?”

I laughed. “No. He thinks I should take my time with the therapy, but … did you know I’ve been teleporting myself in my sleep?”

“Yes. I did hear about that, love. In fact, old mate hunter has been riding my coat tails to come and see you to help. Bloody sod has been calling my true name for days. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to avoid you, but I honestly felt terrible about what happened.” He widened his eyes, his cheeks flushed red. Blinked a few times. Then he unstoppered the Ambrosia and added a few drops to each glass. He took a long, languid sip. “Blimey, this is good plonk.”

“Yeah, you already said that.” I laughed, because I was feeling light headed too.

“Right. Right.”

“Now you keep saying right.”

We both laughed some more. We ate some more cakes. For some reason they tasted especially delicious. We had another glass, then danced around the room to Prince. After half an hour or so, I was hardly able to stand without swaying, but it didn’t matter because we were dancing. Marc’s three-piece suit was minus a piece. His torso was covered only in his vest with the white shirt sleeves rolled up and his tie had been removed but now wrapped around his head like a sweatband.

“Let’s try some teleporting,” Marc said. Cake crumbs flew from his mouth when he bopped and grooved.

“I’ll have to take my collar off first,” I said, panting from exertion myself. My hand drifted to my neck to feel around for the clasp mechanism at the back, but there was nothing there. Bare skin met my touch. “It’s gone!”

When I shot Marc a panicked glance, he raised his eyebrows dramatically as if to say, See what I did there?

“You took it off?” I asked. “When did you do that?”

“Love.” He danced a few steps and pointed at his chest. “God.” Danced some more. Pointed again. “In-between.”

I stood, rooted to the spot. How long had it been off? How had I not felt Marc’s aura in the room? Oh no. It was there. Buzzing energy pushed at me from his direction. It had been there all the time but I’d been so caught up with my dancing, singing and laughing that I hadn’t noticed it. It was there, but I could handle it.

I laughed, surprised and relieved at the same time. “I’m okay!”

“Course you are. Now, let’s try this.” Marc danced across the room to the window table where the cakes were. Half the Tupperware was now empty and for a moment I had a shock of guilt as I thought of Cash and our dinner. He hadn't returned to the room and I hadn't sent the final word for our meal to come up. It was getting close to midnight.

“Right. Let’s do this.” Marc rubbed his hands together and crouched down next to a cake he’d placed on the table. He eyed it off as though it were his arch nemesis from high school. “Look at this cake, yeah? But I don’t want you to look at it as though it were a cake. Look at it as though it were a cake because of what is around it. Got it?”

“Nope. Doesn’t make sense.”

He blew air out of his mouth then shifted his weight. “Okay. Try this. It’s a cake. But it’s also a piece of food on a dinner table. Right?”

I scratched my head.

“I need another drink.” Marc poured two more glasses and then dropped a few more doses of Ambrosia into the mix. He swirled and handed me a glass.

I hesitated with the glass hanging mid-air between us. “Cash should be back.”

“Bah, he’s too busy with the special War Council business.”

“Special? What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know. Something or rather. A sinister thing Urser did has them all with their knickers in a tizzy.” He burped. “I mean knot. What was I saying?”

My mood darkened and I snatched the glass from Marc and took a swig. “What has Urser done this time?”

He laughed. “What hasn’t the miscreant done, is the proper question, am I right?”

I took another sip. Panic started to pierce through my pleasant buzz and I didn’t like it. Another sip was needed. “Go on.”

“Go on what?” His eyes lit up and he wiggled in excitement. He took his glass back and drank deeply. “Ooh, a talk show? Yes. Let’s go on a talk show. I hear Parkinson is pretty good. Or that other fella, James Cordon Bleu, or something. What was his name? Great idea, love. We can snap there in an instant!”

“No, I meant, go on with your story. What has Urser done?”

“All right, love. No need to get stroppy.” He pouted and sat hard on the edge of the bed. “Now, let me see. What was he doing? Whom are we talking about again?”

“Urser,” I ground out. I must have the patience of a saint.

I casually retrieved the wine glass before it spilled from Marc’s wobbling hands.

He saw that as a sign to get comfortable. He popped the buttons on his vest and removed it, mumbling about impractical real clothing then curled up on the bed. His eyes were puffy and drooped languidly as he zeroed in on my expectant face. “Oh, yes. Urser. He’s outed us to the world. Holding hostages or something on live television.”

My stomach dropped so fast, its contents burned the back of my throat. “Why wasn’t I told?”

“Like me, love, you’re not deemed responsible enough for these things, I gather. Now, turn the light off will you. That’s a good love.”

Chapter 24

I sculled another glass of wine and left Marc snoring softly on my bed.

“Not responsible enough?” I muttered as I stomped through the castle. “I’ll show them responsf-resfp—” I couldn’t get my increasingly addled brain to function enough to speak clearly, but I didn’t let that stop me.

I stalked through the halls. Okay. I didn’t stalk. I stumbled. Occasionally my hand may have leaned on a wall. And yes, there was an instance where I knocked into an antique buffet that held an arrangement of fake Peonies.

Crash!

Okay.

They weren’t fake. They were all over the floor. Water splashed on my bare feet and bled to paint the carpet a dark, macabre maroon stain. I blinked a few times at the mess, deciding what to do, and then used my power to shift the broken shards to one side of the room. As though invisible strings pulled each piece of china and flower, the mess slid until it disappeared underneath the buffet.

Yep. I could do this.

My body tilted to the side, my head cocked and I concentrated on the puddle of water until it also slid under the buffet table.

Yes. I fist pumped the air then growled menacingly. I was a bad-ass. Got this sorted. Yep. I sorted this energy thing, didn’t I?

One foot in front of the other, I somehow managed to follow the direction of the largest gathering of energies in the house and found myself standing—swaying—at the front of a closed door.

I placed my palm on the wood to give my brain a few minutes to catch up. It was still back in the foyer, trying to pick up the pieces of the Ming Vase and Peony petals. Plus, those auras inside were powerful. Strong. Vibrant. Insistent. Phew. I waved my hand in front of my face to fan myself. The energy added a level to my inebriation that twisted my head inside.

But I didn’t run. I didn’t scream.

I could do this.

I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing.

My equilibrium tipped. Whoops. Don’t close your eyes. Don’t close your eyes.

I opened my eyes.

I was fine.

Dandy.

I leaned in close and listened. Raised voices.

Arguing as usual. Would they ever learn?

I almost knocked when I caught the mention of my name.

“I’m not going to tell you again. Leave Roo out of this. The fact that you’re considering it makes me think you’re hiding something.”

It was Cash. Aww. My hand covered my heart. He was sticking up for me. Wait. Why was he sticking up for me?

“I get your insinuation. Believe me, the last thing I am is beholden to Urser. His planet all but destroyed mine in their early conquest to rule the Empire. If it wasn’t for the queen’s marriage to his brother, our home would have been obliterated. Their marriage brokered a peace that affected the entire known galactic civilization. I’m also acutely aware that after the king died, Urser tried to sway his people to dissolve the peace deal. If it weren’t for the queen’s Earth experiment, war would have erupted between the territories for sure.”

A few murmurs of approval. I zeroed in on the direction of each voice and tried to pair it with an aura I recognized.

“Then why are you willing to cater to his demands?”

“He’s right, Thurstan, dove. You’re sounding suspiciously like a traitor.” Jacine.

“There’s no love lost between the queen and I. I’ve made that abundantly clear when she banished my father and I to this planet without a fair trial. I wouldn’t be saying this if I didn’t think we had another option.” Thurstan.

“No.” Cash’s growly voice again. “We won’t bow to Urser’s demands.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re in love with her. Take your emotions out of it, man.”

“You’re willing to risk the safety of every life on this planet for that?”

Who said that? It wasn’t Thurstan this time. I pressed my ear against the door, palm on the wood.

“It’s not that bad yet, and you know it.”

“Not that bad?” A pause. “Take a look. What more do you want?”

What were they looking at?

“Jacine, what has Marc said about all this? Why isn’t he here?”

“He said that as long as the Simons—sorry, dove. I mean the humans—as long as the humans aren’t being hurt then he’s got no right or reason to interfere. He’s still following his original orders the queen gave before she… well, you know.”

“Not being harmed?” Someone scoffed. The voice was deep and slightly accented. Maybe Zebedee. “What do you call the destruction of all the Luduses, including the civilian casualties? And the village in the Amazon?”

“Shh. Something is happening. Turn it up, Jed. That last screen.”

I frowned. Screens?

Slowly, another voice became louder. But this one was not attached to an aura. It sounded female and hollow, and … yes, it must have come from a television.

“…until demands are met, and their queen shows her face, then I’m afraid we’re all at risk. After the display of force that left our town hall reduced to rubble, we’re at a loss. With disaster unfolding around the world, we’re not sure what support this little country town will get from state authorities. The black-eyed beings are everywhere, but they seem to have settled until the deadline for demands. There’s one on every street corner—in the town, all up the main street of Margaret River…”

What? My hand dropped from the door and I stepped back, in shock, then I quickly leaned closer to the door to keep listening. There was more: “Hmm. Yes. Thank you Jessica. If you’re just tuning in, the truth is out there… we thought Witches were the darkest thing we had to face, but it appears our worst nightmares have come true. Every myth, every bedtime story you’ve heard is real. Gods are real. And they’re not here to—”

The door opened and I jumped back.

Suddenly, Cash’s handsomely rugged face was all I could see. “What are you doing here, Roo? Is everything okay?”

“Hey you.” A smile expanded my cheeks and I flared my eyes excitedly. “I found you.” I swayed, and I think I even hiccuped because my hand was suddenly covering my mouth.

“Are you … drunk?” he hissed, as though he were trying to hide his voice from the rest of the room. He scrunched up his nose as though my smell offended his delicate sensibilities.

“Who me?” I looked behind me.

“Yes. You.”

I stood frozen, eyes wide, trying to decide what to do. Then I shouldered my way into the room. “What’s going on here?”

Deep down, even in my intoxicated state, my internal alarm sounded. I knew they were hiding something from me. More than what I’d heard on the television. It was a feeling that didn’t sit right and I couldn’t focus long enough to determine if it was guilt, because I was royally screwing things up, or if it was a feeling of being snubbed. Or perhaps it was something far deeper that sang to my insecurities.

“No, don’t.” Cash tried to pull me back outside, but it was too late. I saw the television screens plastered over a back wall. I saw what was on them and the floor swayed under me.

Hastily, so no one noticed my discomfort, or inebriation, I swept a glance around the room. It was quite large. A massive oblong table was at the left end which had a map of the world laid flat. Pensive Watchers gathered around the map quite like a group of Nazis plotting in an underground bunker. Except, they weren’t staring nefariously at the map with little soldier statues on it, they were staring at me. Jacine, Cato and Thurstan with their perfect Botox faces, and Zebedee with his long priest-like robe. A few other nameless faces watched me. Some with scorn. Some with curiosity. Then I saw Jed, arms folded, a frown creasing his brow. He’d been on the phone. He said something to the group and they returned to their debate over the map.

The table Jed was at had a group of people taking phone calls and recording messages. I didn’t recognize any of these people. Workers. When you took it all in, the screens on the walls, the people discussing, the note taking… it was like a newsroom, or a first response ground-zero intelligence room for a disaster. My stomach kept churning because my body knew what my brain struggled to comprehend. Urser had come out of hiding. There was too much activity, at least eight screens, all showed a different news channel around the world. My eyes were a little blurry and I had to squint to focus. Some had reporters standing in front of different disasters. A fire. A building collapsed. A terrorist attack at a football stadium—people running everywhere. Then… I noticed a scene that I recognized—the one that matched the TV news presenter. Margaret River.

My heart pumped. Once. Twice.

I stepped closer to the wall of screens and focused.

A woman spoke into her microphone, but it was the text scrolling along the bottom that grabbed my attention.

Armageddon unless demands are met.

I whipped my gaze around to Cash so fast that I almost lost my balance.

“What the hell is happening?”

He pinched the bridge between his eyes, then met my eyes. “You’re not supposed to be here yet and you’re not in a state to see this.”

“What are you keeping from me?”

Cash picked up a remote and turned off the screens. One by one the video images winked out of existence.

Jacine stepped up, chin jutting out. “She deserves to know.”

“Know what?” I insisted with a crazy laugh lighting my eyes up. “Because it looks to me like Urser’s threatening to end the world. But that can’t be true. You’d tell me something that important, right?”

“Calm down. He’s not threatening the end of the world, he’s threatening the people in it.” Zebedee shot me a patronizing look and shifted a chair out from the planning table. “Sit down before you hurt yourself.”

While my face showed a frozen image of calm, inside I seethed. How dare he try to mansplain this to me. I knew we were in dire straits if Urser revealed our identities to the world.

I folded my arms and turned back to Cash. “What are the demands?”

“Nothing we can’t handle.”

“Urser wants your blood. Literally,” Thurstan blurted.

His father gave him a look of disdain, but it was nothing compared to the pure, lethal warning that bubbled behind the surface of Cash’s eyes.

“What?” Thurstan shrugged, unfazed. “She needed to know.”

“He wants my blood? I’m assuming for the gate I’m yet to see and we’re yet to take control of?” I asked.

“Correct,” Cash said on a sigh.

“And you all think I should give it to him? Fine. Sh-s…f—” I bit my lip to give myself a moment to concentrate on the words my drunk mouth was trying to form. Heat flushed my cheeks and I had a moment of deprecation. I shouldn’t have drunk the Ambrosia. I cleared my throat. “I’ll give it to him.”

“Roo,” Cash said. “He wants you as well.”

Power swelled in my body. My fingers sparked and, chagrinned, I had to drop my hands to my sides to avoid burning holes in my clothes. I mistakenly thought that part of me would be controlled once I converted. A tightness coiled in my stomach at the thought of my friends back home. Shit. Shit. Holy mother of… “Turn the screens back on. Show me.”

“No. You aren’t ready for this,” Cash said.

“Give it to me!” I snatched the remote from his hands and turned the screens back on. I walked up to each screen and soaked it up. I studied the unfolding doom. Darklings swarmed into streets, usually with a Seraphim or Nephilim guiding them. Humans were being pushed around, corralled into cordoned off areas like cattle. “Where is that? What are they doing to those people?”

“Nothing yet,” Cash said.

“You call that nothing?”

“Thus far, no human has been harmed. Urser is smart. He knows if he does, he’ll break the rules of the Game and trigger the wrath of the Empire,” Cato said grimly. “Only property has been destroyed at this point in time.”

My gaze locked on the screens again. There it was, in full color, the disaster Cash kept from me. Why? Was I really that weak, that stupid?

Take a look at yourself. You can’t even stand straight, came a bitter voice from deep in my mind. For a moment, I feared The Others were back but it was just me. Just my subconscious mocking me.

“Roo,” Cash said softly. “It’s a spectacle. He’s doing it on purpose.”

“I don’t think so. Look!” I waved at the wall of destruction. “It’s Margaret River. My home! How long have you been keeping this from me?”

Everybody avoided my eyes and no one said a word.

“Cash?” I urged. “How long?”

His jaw clenched, teeth ground. “He’s been trying to smoke you out since the Amazon.”

All the blood drained from my face. I waved at the blank screens. “And was it always like that?”

“He started with one country, then expanded. Margaret River happened earlier today.”

“I have to call Kitty.” I pulled my phone out of my jeans pocket and dialed. It was close to midnight here, which meant it should be mid-morning there. She’ll pick up. She had to.

No answer.

Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe, the room swayed and I bent over with my hands on my knees. My stomach rolled and I wished away the effects of the alcohol. “Oh God, oh God. We have to go there. We have to stop him. This is my fault. I’ll hand myself over!”

“You’re not thinking straight. This is all an elaborate show. He knows once he starts publicly harming humans that Marc—and any of us—can kill any of them without hesitation or repercussions,” Cash said, placing a hand on my shoulder and guiding me back up. “Giving yourself up would mean he’s got access to the other worlds. We can’t allow that.”

“He’s right,” Zebedee’s eyebrow arched condescendingly. “There’s more at stake here than one little country town.”

“Kitty is pregnant!” I put all of my emotion into those three words. A baby. A new, innnocent life coming into the world. My voice trembled. “I can’t let this suffering happen because of me.”

“Roo, you’re tired and drunk.” Cash tried to usher me out of the room. “Go to bed and sleep it off. We can talk about this in the morning.”

I couldn’t believe it. In front of everyone, he was saying these things to me, treating me like a naughty child. I surveyed the room. All those faces were looking at me with judgment. Scorn. Embarrassment. Disdain. I finally saw things clearly. They all thought I was useless.

“You lied to me!” I palmed Cash’s chest. The damned immovable mountain didn’t budge and that made my heart pump even faster.

“That’s not true. I didn’t lie to you.”

“You told me to stay in my room and focus on my therapy. You said everything was fine.”

“It is fine, we have it under control.”

The searing pain in the middle of my chest grew. “You don’t believe I’m capable of helping. You’re just like them.” I pointed at the others. “You think I’m a joke. A baby. I thought we were soulmates.” His earlier words of encouragement—Baby steps, Roo—had a different meaning. “You think I can’t handle Urser. You think I can’t even handle myself, well guess what, buddy!” I pointed at my neck. “It’s gone! I did it.”

“Stop overreacting, Roo.” Cash dipped his head to try and keep his words for my ears only. “You need to go to bed and sleep it off.”

“Stop saying that! I don’t need to sleep any-tfshing off.” I lost balance trying to swat him away.

He caught a whiff of my breath. “You drank our wine? The one we’re saving for the wedding? And… is that Ambrosia I smell on your breath?” Then his face truly twisted into something that made shame well from the deepest part of my heart.

Emotions slammed into me, and I couldn’t breathe. I had to get out of there.

He gripped my shoulder. “I know that look in your eye. Do I need to send Jed with you to make sure you go back to your room?”

I tried to yank out of his grip but couldn’t disengage. I had a vision of myself throwing a tantrum like a toddler trying to wrench free from his mother in a mall. The notion sent a wave of fury hurtling through me and I glared at Cash. “You think you can lock me up like a prisoner?”

He stared back with an unreadable expression.

“Let her go, dove,” Jacine said. “Where will she run to? She’s safe on the grounds.”

“Yes, let her go. She’s embarrassing herself. Let the grownups clean up her mess.”

“You shut your mouth.” Cash let go of me to turn the full force of his scorn at whoever spoke—Cato, Thurstan… who cared?

It was enough of a distraction that I ran.

Chapter 25

I ran through the castle, out and into the night. My eyes burned. I was a child among gods. A tempestuous, temper tantrum-throwing toddler. The overwhelming sense of failure crashed over me. I wasn’t this queen that led them all to peace. I never would be! Cash knew that. The look in his eyes when he found out I’d drunk our wine said everything. It was something I couldn’t hide from anymore. I didn’t know what was worse, Cash not following me, or the fact I was glad.

I crashed to a stop in the snow-covered courtyard, panting and breathing hard. The quiet, calming ambiance of the area was a stark contrast to my heavy breath and thumping heart. Running water poured from the mouth of a dolphin in a fountain at the center of the round gravel driveway. Someone had scraped snow from the floor, leaving the walkway to the garden clear. I knew I should be cold, but I was too drunk to care. I walked around the fountain, gulping in fresh night air. The cold stones beneath my feet cut, but the sensation gave me something to anchor to. The Ambrosia made me queasy and I needed that link, that tiny pulse of stabbing pain waking me up, taking my mind off what I’d left behind.

I kept walking, mindless of the stones until my feet landed on the soft, fluffy snow that separated the castle driveway from the forest. The sliver of pain slicing my feet turned into a torrent. Agony shot up my legs, through my bones and straight to my spine. I made a soundless scream, seized and collapsed, hands splayed in the soggy snow. Electricity ripped through me. What the hell was happening?

Nature.

Being cooped up inside the stone walls, I’d forgotten about its anguish. I may have mastered sensing auras of people, but not of the world. My muscles froze and locked. The sensation had been so strong, so sudden, that all I could do was breathe through it. But I didn’t fight it. I let it in because, unlike before, this time I recognized the pain. It matched what I felt deep inside my soul. We were sorrowful and used. Chewed up and spit out.

All those times I tried to help, to be a better person—to create a better world—ache twisted my heart—had I really been making a fool of myself?

My mind melded with the earth’s and I had trouble distinguishing our thoughts apart. Urser used me. Humans used me. Our whole life was to the beat of their drum. The Inquisitor had me running away from him, hiding my true nature and flinching every time I heard the flick of a cigarette lighter strike. People lit fires, burning me for fun. Then I met Cash and walked to his beat while he trained me. They said they loved me, tended to me, nurtured me, but now they pillage me, poison me. Sure, he helped me get away from Urser and control my powers, but he was always the one making decisions and the simple fact was, I was never in control.

Let the grownups clean her mess.

Anger surged in my soul, in our soul. No more running. No more hiding. I slammed the heel of my palm on my eye socket and forced myself to remember my mediation techniques.

Breathe. In. Out.

Again.

My tears fell to the earth. I watched as my sorrow met the pain offered up to me. I watched as they became one. We understood each other.

Breathe. In. Out.

Again.

I pushed my essence into the ground and felt a response. An awakening. An acceptance that went both ways. We were opposite ends of the same telephone wire. The wind sighed around my head, caressing my skin. The birds calling in the night suddenly took on a musical sound. The ground shuddered under my touch and deeper, further beneath, there was an echo of recognition. It was as though the world exhaled in trembling relief. It was not alone anymore, and neither was I. I wanted to cry some more, but sweet, sweet tears of joy. We could do this.

The pain ebbed, but power grew, expanding through me. Sparking, zinging into my palms, tingling my bent knees on the grass, tickling the back of my bare toes on the ground. This was life at its purest, and it welcomed me. I’d never have to borrow from another soul if the earth offered her unlimited supply freely. Slowly, surely, feeling came back to my muscles in a burning sensation that shocked me. The effects of Ambrosia withered and died. What was left was a single-minded clarity. I was done running away. I was done with being told what to do and how to behave and feeling guilty for not being their savior. I’d never be the person they wanted me to be, but I could be the best version of me.

I stood. I leaned back on my heels, palms on my thighs, and then staggered to my feet. I wanted to get out of here. Trembling hands weighted at my side and I stared to the shadowed forest ahead that lined the property. I walked toward it—

—and was stopped by a sharp pain in my middle. I glanced down, surprised. Why was an arrow shaft sticking out of my hip? Blood poured down the curve of my thigh and onto the white ground before my healing ability staunched the flow and eventually stopped it.

And then something strange happened. The earth shrieked in my mind. The wind picked up speed until it howled all around, pushing the leaves of the forest into a frenzy, sending snow flying from its bows. Even from my distance to the fountain, fine drops of arctic water hit my cheeks as wind carried it from the dolphin’s mouth. My hair lifted off my neck and whipped around my face. It was as though the earth felt my injury with me. And it was angry.

“It’s okay,” I said quietly, to the earth and to myself. “I’m okay.”

The wind speed dropped a few knots but didn’t settle completely. I became aware of an energy shift in the air to my right, and another arrow zoomed past my head. A part of me had sensed that movement in the air, as though a ripple in water, and I ducked just in time. In the same instant, I detected a number of souls converging on me in a hostile manner and understood: The castle was being attacked!

No. I was being attacked.

I urged my heart to slow its thumping beat. I had to remain calm, or else the earth would sense it. The distinct snap and twang of a bow releasing sounded in the night. Adrenaline surged in me and pushed the last remnants of Ambrosia out of my pores. But it rooted me to the spot, senses thrumming like a live wire, breath held in my lungs. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. Then wind surged in a roar around me, snapping me out of my daze in time to duck as another arrow whizzed by my ear. A gust of wind knocked it off course until it embedded in the stone of the fountain behind me. It lodged in the dolphin’s tail.

“Thank you,” I mumbled to the earth and gave it a quick pat before standing again.

My hand enclosed around the length of the arrow in my hip and I braced for pain. My knuckles tightened on the thin rod until they were white. I can do this. I yanked and screamed, doubling over for a minute to catch my breath while my body healed anew. It only took a few seconds and then I stood tall again. Jeez. Who used arrows these days? I ditched the shaft at the ground and faced in the direction of the souls converging on me. Survival instinct took over. I armed myself with energy and let it show. White light sparked at my fingertips and cascaded to the ground.

Five shadows disengaged from the darkness at the edge of the forest. All wore leather hunting outfits, as though they were on their way to a Cosplay for Robin Hood. I raised my hands, palms out in warning. “Come any closer and I’ll deem it an act of hostility.”

“We’re not afraid of you. We know what you are,” one male said, knocking his arrow and pointing at me. His accent sounded local. He was tall and slim with a brown beard growing down his neck. A full quiver was slung over his shoulder. Half his chest was shielded with a leather plated chest guard. This guy was a serious bowman, but he was wrong to attack me.

“If you really know what I am, then you know it’s a mistake to misjudge me,” I added.

My sparking hands cast an ambient, blue glow that mixed with the yellow tinge coming from the castle’s outdoor lights. The result was an eerie, green glow that touched every surface around me.

How did the men get past the security at the gate? They must have injured the guards somehow. And if they did that, then they had the means to incapacitate beings of power. The five people—oh my God!—I gasped. A step backward betrayed my shock. These were human. Not Nephilim. Not Seraphim. Just poor misguided humans. All dressed in hunting leathers, playing at some savior notion. They thought they were heroes, or perhaps they were deranged.

The bearded man in the lead twitched his finger on his nocked and braced arrow. His arm trembled from the strain of holding the drawn string taut.

“I swear to God if you let that loose, I’ll…” I bit my tongue to stop myself saying something I’d regret.

“You’ll what? Bewitch us? Bleed us dry? We’ve seen what your kind can do. We know who you are.”

“You don’t know anything about me!”

“We know you’re the mother of evil. You created witches,” said another man. He was younger and sported a green leather jacket with a hood.

“I did nothing of the sort!” But even as the words came out of my mouth, I knew them for the lie they were because, wasn’t I responsible for bringing life to this planet?

“That’s what the god said. He said you’re the one responsible for all of our pain.”

His words cut, but I shook my head. No. I couldn’t accept blame for every little thing that happened after. People made their own decisions. I didn’t hold a gun to anyone’s head to force them to turn evil. That was all Urser and his destructive ability to kill and create with his dark power. It was probably how he’d manage to evolve all these years instead of devolving like Soul-Eaters. He had created life. It may not have been good life, but it was something he gave to the Universe.

“You’re the reason my wife got possessed.”

“And my daughter,” another said.

“A witch killed my cousin,” said the third.

The hurt in their voices was clear, but: “Uh-uh, pals. I didn't force a witch to possess your wife. I’m sorry for your loss, but I can’t control what happened. I wasn’t even on this planet when witches were created!”

“You think that matters to us?” He jerked his bow in my direction and stepped closer. “You think that makes a difference to all the suffering because of what you started?”

I threw my hands in the air, exasperated. “What do you want from me? To bring your wife back? I can’t do that!”

“We want you to pay. We want to hand you over to the god who wants your blood. He said he’ll take the witches with him when he leaves. We want to do something so nobody else suffers like we have.”

“Trust me, I don’t want anyone else suffer, either. But you have to admit, how do you know he’s the one telling the truth? What proof has he given you that he’s for real?”

I knew I’d hit a mark when they all glanced at each other briefly.

“He’s a god,” one of them said.

“So am I. I’ve been fighting against him all this time. The people at this refuge are fighting against him. The only difference is that we want to avoid innocent loss of lives. He’s the one responsible for the bombings of all the National Treasures—the pyramids, the Opera House. He did that. Not me.”

The youth lowered his bow, but his father frowned and shook his head. “No… I don’t know.”

“Those creatures you saw on the news… do they look innocent?”

“No,” he shook his head.

“Urser is the one who made them. Not me.”

Just then, I felt another shift in the energy around me—a pulsing of atoms and molecules—a ripple that alerted me to another presence.

Cash.

None of the five had seen him, but he was here, somewhere. His aura didn’t shout at me like the rest of them, but through my soulmate connection and the earth’s awareness, I knew exactly where he was. The last time I’d seen Cash in action was when he obliterated poor Malcolm in mere seconds. He doesn’t think. He acts. All the hairs on my body stood on end and, for the first time that night, I was afraid.

Slowly, I raised my palm to the five. “Don’t move.”

Chapter 26

A growing sense of dread unfurled in my gut as multiple larger than life energies arrived behind me. Without turning, I instantly recognized a few auras belonged to the gods who had been in the War Room with Cash: Jacine, Cato, Thurstan, Zebedee. Jed and a few other lesser souls were also filtering out to see the show.

And then there was Cash. He encroached from the side, unnoticed in the dark shadows lining the wall of the castle. Slowly, slowly, and step by step, he came closer.

In a panicked moment, I saw a flash of the worst unfolding. Cash would eliminate these men without thinking twice, and the gods would take out anyone he missed. Then, once word got out to the towns around us, there would be no denying what these people thought of us. We would be the devils Urser described. I couldn’t let that happen.

“Everyone, stop.” I held up my hand and looked in the direction I knew Cash was coming, but he was either not paying attention to me, or he thought I was speaking to the humans who had in turn noticed the gods behind me. Cash sidled closer. Closer. The Robin Hoods tensed.

“We’re not who you think we are,” I said to them. “The story you’ve been told is a lie. You have to believe me.”

“How do you know what we’ve been told?” asked the youth in a green jacket.

“That’s enough. Don’t engage, Jack. She’ll twist your mind,” said the bearded leader, looking more and more unsure. His urgent words were more to persuade himself, rather than to convey a message. “The god said she would do this. He said it!”

“Look,” I started. “I know that—”

“Enough,” Cato interrupted behind me in an explosion of sound and energy. His aura unfurled from his body and for the first time since meeting him, I gauged a true sign of his age. He was strong. Lethal. Gravel crunched with each footstep Cato took closer.

“You’re trespassing,” he said to the attackers. “You have exactly thirty-seconds to turn around and leave. Thurstan—” He indicated for his son to flank my other side.

My fingers sparked and, for a minute, I lost control of my thoughts. One second they were on the danger in front of me, the next, I was paying too much attention to the men sliding to my side. Were they going to undermine my authority? And I didn’t mean that in the sense of myself being their damned queen, but in the sense that I had built a rapport with these people. Granted, our connection might be all in my head, but I didn’t want anyone going off halfcocked and injuring these people. The wind rose in a gust to show me its support.

“Get back,” Jack said, eyes wide when Thurstan stepped forward.

“Do you know whose castle you’ve trespassed on, boy?” Jacine’s voice was liquid silver as she confidently stalked closer. “I mean, you’ve heard the rumors in the town, have you not? They myths, the stories, the Pied Piper who lured men to their deaths with the sound of her voice… the goddess who stole husbands from wives and gave them pleasure unbound until nothing else in life was good enough and… well, you know. There’s a reason no one comes here anymore.”

I slapped my palm on my face. “Not helping, Jacine.”

“What?” She whined and glanced at me wide-eyed. “I don’t do it anymore. I’m reformed. But I could.”

“Let’s just all calm down a minute,” I said. “Nobody is turning anyone into a pleasure slave.”

Jacine pouted but stepped back to align with us.

Archers flicked their gaze to each other. Fear crept over their features. Two stepped back, and checked their rear, readying for a retreat. I felt their intentions as clearly as if they spoke. The cold earth beneath me was aware too. Its energy zipped up through my bare feet to strengthen my bones with power that crackled and sparked out my fingertips and licked up my arms. We were alert. Aware. Cautious. But we were hopeful.

I moved forward hesitantly. All arrows zeroed in on me. I stepped again. “Buddy, like I said, we’re not the bad ones. We didn’t make witches. That was Urser. The man you saw on TV.”

He narrowed his eyes, affronted. “Liar.”

“One more step and we fire,” Jack said. “We don’t need you alive to bring you back.”

Jacine laughed. “You can’t kill us boys.”

“You’re right. Not with regular arrows.” The bearded man reached behind him and pulled a black tipped arrow from his quiver. His crew also reloaded with black tipped arrows. “But with these, we stand a chance. Made from Obsidian and dipped in Nightshade.”

I had no idea what that was but auras around me skipped a beat.

“You see,” the man said, “it was those stories and myths you speak of that sent us on the right path to find your weakness. It took years—decades—and generations of us, but finally, we found something, and from the look on your faces, we’ve struck gold.”

“Why are we even talking with these interlopers?” Thurstan waved his hand and water from the fountain arced out of its container and hovered in a menacing bubble overhead, suspended between the attackers and us. Cato placed his palms together, almost as though he were praying but it had a sinister and deadly vibe. His eyes locked on the archers.

“We’re not leaving until we take her to the god.” The bearded man, who appeared to be the leader, nodded in my direction. “This is our final offer. Let us take her and we’ll leave without hurting anyone else.”

Silence expanded in the courtyard and for a moment, I believed my companions weighed up the option of handing me over.

I stepped forward, palms out, one in the direction of the attackers and one at the gods behind me. “We need to solve this without violence. They’re humans.”

Like an apparition, Cash’s sword lit up in his hand and revealed his location to the group. He was only feet away, eyes narrowed and locked on the closest attacker to him. It was Jack. Jack swung his bow toward Cash and released. His arrow flew.

“Fire at will.” The bearded leader loosed his arrow in my direction but I was watching the young Jack reaching to reload his bow, not noticing Cash and his fiery freight train coming toward him.

“No!” I screamed, letting all my anguish out. That one word had multiple meanings: Stop, don’t harm, protect, save. The sparks in my hands intensified like lightning and suddenly I wasn’t standing between Cato and Thurstan, I was in front of Jack, my palms out, watching Cash’s sword of fire swing toward my neck.

“Shit,” Cash spat as he reined his might at the last minute. He rolled to the side, effortlessly redirecting his strength to stand before me. The sword reduced to embers. Suddenly, his fierce gaze snagged on my now nude body and he forgot all about attacking Jack. His expression morphed into horror. “You teleported!” And then, “I almost killed you.”

“They’re human, Cash. They’re innocent.”

Seeing me jump between gods and humans, everyone stopped.

“No one is innocent.” Cash flashed a snarly smile over my shoulder. It was the kind of smile you’d see on a wolf before it ate prey.

I launched forward and threw my arms around him. “Please.”

His face softened as he took me into his arms. He draped his jacket around my shoulders. It didn’t quite cover all of me, so I dropped my hands to cover my lower private bits. Cash glared at the gods behind us with calculating intent. I couldn’t see the gods behind me, but something unsaid must have passed between them because, suddenly, Cash’s warm body left mine. Sensing the attack, the archers loosed their arrows with a twang, water splashed and crashed and bright flashes of red and yellow light scalded my eyes.

I threw up my hands to shield myself in a moment of sheer panic. “Stop!” Why won’t anyone listen to me? Help!

The earth heard my plea and the ground rumbled, moving us all helter-skelter in a haphazard way. I almost lost my footing but braced in time to see great spears shoot out of the ground and curl around each individual. It happened so fast that it took me a moment to realize the projectiles weren’t spears but vines. Each tendril twisted around the legs of gods and humans alike, growing and tightening until they were all rooted to the spot, cocooned to the head in plant life.

A sliver of sensation trailed up both my ankles, knees and thighs. I glanced down to see vines sliding up my body. Unlike the burst of fury that covered the others, it was a gentle, reverent caress that had each leaf and tendril weaving over my body to cover my nakedness. By the time the vines finished entwining, Cash’s jacket had fallen to the ground and I was left with a green woven dress that hugged my body and trailed around my ankles. As I stepped forward, the last vestiges of roots broke away from the ground and snapped to dangle like nature’s bridal train.

Cash writhed and struggled within his cocoon, face contorted and red with effort. With his strength, it would only be a matter of time before he broke out of its hold. He spotted me walking, he noted my new clothes with wide, comprehending eyes. “Roo. This is your doing?”

Too angry to meet his inquiring gaze, I looked away from him. I’d asked him to stop, to spare the humans and he ignored me. He placated me with a warm leather jacket, then did what he wanted anyway. The other gods and humans all spoke at once, but I ignored them too. I stepped around the pillars of plants and people to inspect the fallen weapons. Bows and poisoned arrows littered the grassy ground.

“Take the weapons,” I said to the earth and the ground opened to swallow them whole. When I looked back to the faces of the people around me, they had gone silent, thoughtful, maybe fearful.

“I had hoped to resolve this all without violence, but you’re all just as bad as each other,” I said.

“Roo. This is irrational. You’re making a mistake. Let me go.” This came from Cash.

“Listen to your man, Your Majesty. You’re still drunk. You need to—” Thurstan shut his mouth when he caught the seething glare in my eyes.

“Roo,” Cash warned again. “Let me go and I’ll sort this out.”

I screamed in exasperation. “I immobilized all of you without harming a hair on your heads and you’re treating me like a second rate citizen. I know I make mistakes. I make them all the time. I know I don’t remember my centuries of life experience like you do. I’m new and fresh just like them”—I pointed to the archers—“and guess what? Humans make mistakes, too. It’s how they learn. So I’m not going to be afraid anymore to keep trying because failing is making me a better person. So if it’s okay with all of you, I’m going to keep doing stupid shit because it’s the only way I know how to be me.” I gasped in a deep breath of air on my last word and eyed each of them. Cato, Thurstan, Jacine, Cash, Zebedee. Jed, the archers. I stepped around them all, circling, thinking, until finally I came up with a plan. I stood still and spoke. “As a matter of fact, I’m going to do something really stupid, right now.”

I walked up to the Robin Hoods and stood in front of the leader.

His face was pale and his eyes widened. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not going to hurt you. I want to let you go. Will you return the way you came and never come back?”

He glanced at his son, Jack, and both nodded to each other.

“We will go. Anything you say, we will do. We are in your service.”

“What?”

“You are the god we should have listened to.”

“No. No, that’s not what I want. Just—will you go? Be with your loved ones. Forget about this. I’ll make it right.”

He nodded.

“Good.”

Once by one, I allowed the vines around them to unravel and return underground. True to their word, each interloper left, running back into the darkness of the forest until I sensed their auras fade.

Cash’s fist punched through his captivity. I met his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he had the chance to tell me how dumb and juvenile I was being, I stepped through the in-between.

Chapter 27

I arrived in a room I knew well in Margaret River—Kitty’s living room. Alvin was standing in the open plan kitchen, putting away some cutlery. Metal clinked and clattered and then a drawer whooshed closed. He was the epitome of health, wearing a singlet that displayed his muscled arms, skin browned from spending a summer in the sun. Kitty sat on the sofa, flicking through a trashy magazine. Her hair was growing nicely into shoulder length blue and green waves, and her stomach had a slight curve to it, almost negligible if I didn’t already know she was pregnant. It was a perfect scene of domestic life.

“Whoa!” Alvin shouted when he saw me. “When did you get here, Roo?”

“Roo?” Kitty jumped from her seat on the blue sofa. The magazine fluttered to the floor.

“Sorry!” I cried and glanced down, fearing I’d be stark naked.

“What on earth are you wearing, Roo?” Alvin asked.

The plant dress was still woven around me. Must be organic enough to hold its shape through the in-between. It seemed a little tattered, but was holding. I straightened. “Sorry. Thought I’d be naked. I’m so glad you’re both safe.”

My friends stared at me wide-eyed.

“Uh, babe, do you want some proper clothes?” Kitty spared a glance at her fiancé.

“Right. Clothes.” Alvin dashed out of the living room.

“No, I’m okay, really.”

Kitty turned to me, frowning “Babe, you shouldn’t have come here. Those things are herding people up in town. Alvin and I have managed to avoid being caught up by staying in our home, but … we don’t know how long that’s going to last. It’s dangerous.”

I thought back to the images I’d seen on the television screen at the refuge. People were being corralled into pens. “Has anything happened yet?” I asked. “I mean, apart from people being treated like livestock? What are they doing? Tell me about it.”

Kitty pursed her red lips. “First, coffee.”

Alvin returned with a balled up package of fabric and threw it at me from the other side of the room. “Heads up.”

I plucked the unraveling dress from midair. I stretched it out and then folded the fabric over the arm of the sofa, smoothing the wrinkles, thinking, I didn’t need it. I didn’t need clothes because I’d made my own. Holy cheese on a stick! I actually knew how to make my own clothes out of vines and—my mind stopped suddenly. The enormity of what I’d done back in Budapest hit me and dizziness overcame me. I moved to the front of the chair where my knees weakened and I collapsed. I was a god. Shit.

“Alvin. You wrinkled it!” Kitty groaned, mistaking my mood.

“Makes a better projectile, bubby-cakes.” Alvin kissed her on the cheek.

“Bubby-cakes?” I screwed up my nose and laughed. It was just the right thing to hear to snap my head from the clouds. I gathered my unruly long hair into a twist at the side of my neck as I watched Kitty and Alvin fuss around the kitchen, preparing drinks in perfect harmony. Alvin got cups down from a top cupboard, Kitty spooned coffee, and then Alvin added the sugar—knowing exactly how many Kitty liked in her drink. Tears burned the back of my lids and the ache in my chest grew. I wanted what they had. Cash and I were supposedly soulmates, but our minds were out of sync. I’d asked him to trust me with the humans, and he didn’t. He’d asked me to take things slow with my therapy and I’d rushed it. It didn’t matter that I was now coping better with my abilities. I’d stomped on his heart to get here.

No time for self wallowing. Kitty was pregnant. In danger. The town was in danger. And I was here to fix it all. I had to get my head back in the game.

By the time Kitty and Alvin joined me on the sofa, I’d mentally pep-talked myself into sitting taller. I took my mug from Alvin.

“Thank you,” I said. “So… tell me what’s been happening. I want to hear it from you two.”

“Have you seen the news?” Kitty asked as she settled back into the sofa. Alvin stretched an arm around her shoulders and sipped on his drink.

“Bits and pieces.”

“Well, they arrived yesterday. They say they’re here for our protection.” Kitty snorted.

“Yeah, right.” Alvin rolled his eyes. “As if.”

“What do they need to protect you against?” I asked.

“You, babe.” Kitty frowned. “They’re saying you created witches and that you might come back to make more.”

“Oh for goodness sake.” I joined Alvin in the eye roll. “Of course Urser would say that. He’s trying to smoke me out.”

“Your father?”

“Bruce. Yes. But he isn’t my father. I mean he sort of is, but it’s complicated.”

“They’re the dangerous ones, right?” Alvin asked, his arm tightening around Kitty’s shoulders. “I mean, they have really black eyes, like sharks, and they’re bloody well not giving anyone a choice about moving into their supposed safe zones.”

“They are dangerous, you’ve been right to stay out of sight in your home. They’ve been infected with the same darkness that Urser used to make witches, but he’s perfected the process. It’s taken him years to do it, except now he can turn anyone into his mindless slave.” I took a sip of the coffee, preparing myself for what I was about to say next. “So, I guess, there’s nothing for it. I’m going to fix them. I’ll get the dark taint out of their bodies, then send their souls home. I’m tired of sitting around and waiting for someone else to do what I should have done a long time ago.”

“You go girl!” Kitty fist pumped the air.

Alvin’s face turned serious and his muscles tensed. “Do you need help?”

My heart softened a little and I gave them both a small smile. “Thank you but, no, I can handle these on my own. There’s only a few, right?”

“Maybe ten or so?” Kitty replied.

“That we’ve seen,” Alvin warned.

“No problems. I got this.”

“But you’re here on your own, right?” Alvin continued. “Unless your friends are in town?”

My reply caught in my throat and I shook my head. I took another quick sip of coffee and let the sweet bitterness infuse me with strength. “I’m here on my own. I’ll get going in a minute and sort these people out. I’m stronger now. I’m not afraid to do this on my own.”

“Babe,” Kitty breathed. “It’s never good to be alone.”

I squeezed my eyes and blinked away the burn, then quickly changed the subject. “How have you been feeling Kitty? With the pregnancy?”

Kitty rubbed her hand over her belly. “I’m feeling great. No morning sickness, no tiredness. I’m showing a little faster than I hoped but, other than that, great!”

Showing faster? I squashed my panic, so I wouldn’t conjure visions of alien babies, or some sort of witch-hybrid like in the Underworld movies—no wait ––that’s Vampire-Werewolf hybrid. But still. What if it’s a Werewolf? A tiny gasp escaped my throat.

“Is something wrong?” Kitty frowned. “I know I’ll probably have to let out my wedding dress a little, but it’s not that bad is it?”

“Oh no, sorry, I was thinking of something totally unrelated.” I could almost hear Cash’s voice telling me to stop overacting, but couldn’t help myself. “So, do you think you got the conception date wrong, maybe?”

“It’s possible.” Kitty tapped her chin with red manicured nails. “Although, it could also be the fact that Alvin’s got super fit genetics now, thanks to you.”

Alvin kissed his bicep and winked at me.

Kitty swatted him playfully. “So it’s probably just going to be a super fit baby. The doc said all is normal and, with all things considered, we’re on track for the wedding.”

“Fantastic.” I clapped my hands then gave them both the eye. “You’ll tell me if something is wrong, though won’t you? I mean, having a god for a friend has some benefits, you know?”

Alvin gazed into his fiancé’s eyes with cloudy love. “I’m sure anything we have is going to be perfect the way it is.”

Kitty replied by kissing him on the lips.

“Aww, you guys are so cute.” And a load off my worrisome shoulders. I’d forgotten about Alvin’s supercharged genes. After Petra hexed him, I hexed him back with a stronger directive for his body to fix anything that was wrong, hence the super fit body and perfect health. “Just curious, Alvin, have you been sick or had a cold since that day you were hexed by me?”

“Not even the sniffles.” He raised his eyebrows with an impressed expression.

“Great.” I stood up to leave. “Don’t leave the house until you hear it’s safe.”

“How will we know that?” Alvin asked.

“You’ve got a point,” I replied. “I guess, the media coverage is getting out somehow, so there must be people who aren’t being captured. Either way, when I get rid of all the darklings, I’ll come back and let you know.”

“Roo?” Kitty’s voice wobbled.

“Yeah?”

“You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

“You know it. I have a wedding to get to.”

Chapter 28

I stepped through the in-between, aiming to teleport into a clearing on the edge of town. Lots of nature there, and usually few people. The main strip of town was a short walk away.

The instant my bare feet landed on the grass of the clearing, the glare of the sun hit my eyes, blinding me. I shielded my face, frowning. I didn’t remember the sun being so high. Time had warped. I took a step on the carpet of grass, and felt my dress break apart. Glancing down, I noticed a piece of disintegrating leaf and touched it. Within seconds, the rest of the outfit crumbled to the ground. Wow. Not built for lasting trips through the in-between.

Looking around me, I confirmed I was alone. Nothing but grass, trees, birds and the sound of the wind blowing softly through the leaves. I listened more intently, thinking I should be hearing cars drive along the main road just beyond the break of trees, but there was nothing but the silent omen of what I’d find in town.

I had to hurry.

I asked nature for a new dress. She was there waiting for me, eager and compliant. Roots and tiny tendrils shot out of the ground to slither around my legs and body until each length had weaved to create the most beautiful lace-work I’d ever seen. The sun sparkled on the dewy leaves like diamonds. The finished product was pliable with the texture of a soft basket weave. It melded to my torso and hips where it dangled to my feet in tassels. Little white flowers bloomed across my shoulder straps and trailed down the middle of my back like tiny white buttons.

“This is beautiful,” I gushed and swirled. “It moves with me. It’s perfect. Thank you.”

A gust of wind lifted my hair in response and I was sure I felt a swelling of pride coming from underground. I sighed and crouched down so my hand stroked the grassy surface, letting each blade of grass massage my fingers. “When this is all over, I swear I’m going to make things right for you.”

Another gentle gust of wind answered me and then I stood up.

“But first, we have some work to do.”

I made my way into town, stomach tensed with nerves. Shops were closed. Streets were empty. From the short flashes of media footage I’d glimpsed, the people were being held in a park. The one at the other end of main street was the obvious choice—central and open.

I noticed the first darkling a few minutes into my walk, standing outside the town bakery and looking rather like a Secret Service Agent. That was the first thing that threw me off. No wonder the Robin Hoods had believed Urser when he said I was the one causing trouble. This darkling looked similar to a trusted government authority, instead of the feral beasts that attacked me in the Amazon. He wore a gray suit, had his short dark hair plastered down, and had a coiled plastic wire running from an ear piece to his jacket where a shoulder microphone was attached. His biceps almost split the seams and I had the sense he could snap bones in an instant. The darkling’s aura was gritty and made my stomach curdle. Like Alvin said, his eyes were like a shark’s and every so often his head would turn to survey the empty street.

When he caught sight of me, he began walking my way.

The sun warmed pavement burned my feet, but diminished my connection to the earth’s raw power. I still had my own innate ability, though, so let my hands fill with energy and hid them behind my back.

“Hello,” I said to the darkling as we came within earshot of each other.

“You must return to your home, human,” he replied in a gravelly voice.

“Yeah… not happening. I’m here to send you home. Are you Nephilim or Seraphim?”

He frowned and cocked his head, but said nothing as he tried to compute my duplicity. He was probably used to the town’s folk running every time he spoke to them.

“Look, buddy,” I added. “I need to know what to do with your soul after I purge you.”

Those must have been the magic words because his mouth opened in a spiked, toothy snarl. He snapped my way viciously, feral beast come out to play.

“My Grandma, what big teeth you have.” I jumped forward and slammed my palms on his chest, letting my energy out in a blast, effectively Tasering him.

He convulsed under my touch as the scent of ozone and burning rayon filled the air. That was close. I wiped my forehead. His teeth had narrowly missed my nose. As he slid against the bakery window to the ground, I surveyed the street for witnesses. No one yet.

Quickly, I knelt beside him and ripped his jacket and shirt open to reveal his chest. A star-map on the torso confirmed he was a Player. I used my power to slice his flesh and place my own sliced palm onto his wound and set to purging the poison from him until black residue oozed silently from his eyes, ears, nose and mouth. I stood back to assess with bated breath.

Slowly, the man’s eyes returned to a shade of blue that matched the sky. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, smearing the black liquid like day old mascara. Then he noticed the stains on his hands. Then he noticed me.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I’m Roo. I’m the one who purged the darkness from your soul. What’s your name?”

“Ah.” He scratched his head. “I think it’s Nathan.”

“Hi Nathan. What’s the last thing you remember?”

Another frown and a vacant look in his eyes. That wasn’t good.

“Were you at a Ludus?” I tried.

“Ah. I was at the… um… why can’t I? Oh yeah, I was at the Libertine Ball, then there was a weird smell. That’s all I remember.”

“Good. That’s good. Libertine Ball. You have a star-map so you must be a Player. Were you graduating, or were you celebrating other members of your House being released into the Game?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You have an American accent.”

He nodded. “I’m American.”

“Do you remember what House you belong to?”

His eyes lit up with recognition. “Yes, Astraia House; The Fates.”

I snorted. “Well, buddy, you should’ve seen that coming.”

“No, my ability doesn’t work like that. I can’t see the future, only traces of the past when I touch objects.”

“Does it work on yourself?”

Nathan ran his fingers over his palms and then slotted his hands together and closed his eyes. After a while, his eyes opened and his skin paled. I didn’t need to ask to know that he’d seen the things he’d done as a darkling, and he was sickened by them.

“I’m sorry Nathan. That shouldn’t have happened to you.”

“Not your fault,” he mumbled and looked at me.

I looked at him.

We stared.

“Yeah. It kinda is.” I inhaled deeply. Here goes. “I’m the queen. I’m sending you home.”

“To the States?” he said hopefully.

“Nope. Purgatory, then your real home. I’m sorry. Game Over, buddy.” I didn’t wait for a rebuttal. I didn’t wait for questions. I placed both my palms on his chest and pushed with my power. His soul ripped from his flesh into the atmosphere beyond, a ghostly shadow of his body. His essence dissipated and drifted away, pulled by a magnetic force to the nearest purgatory, which was probably underneath the rubble of the Opera House in Sydney. But I wouldn’t worry about that. Marc could handle bringing the souls back to the Empire. My priority was first and foremost to eradicate the darklings.

“Right.”

Nathan’s body was an empty shell, slumped on the floor beneath me. I should probably get rid of it considering it was evidence. The last thing I needed was for humans to discover a demi-god’s body and dissect it. I wanted to make things simpler here on earth, not more complicated. My hands filled to the brink with energy and I let it flow into the body. Fire erupted. I jumped back just in time to save my tendrils from catching. I wiped my hands down my leafy dress and glanced down the empty street.

Then I kept walking.

Chapter 29

It took most of the afternoon, but by the time I reached the opposite end of the main street, I’d purged seven Players of their dark taint and burned their bodies to ash. My limbs felt heavy, and my feet dragged. It may be late in the day here, but back in Budapest it was the early hours of the morning. Past my bedtime, that’s for sure.

Kitty had thought there were about ten darklings hanging around—that she’d seen—so I was still missing a few. I couldn’t quit yet. I cast a glance back the way I’d come. Nothing but deserted street and a series of body-shaped scorched marks.

The closer I walked to the park at the end of the street, the more I felt the swell of auras like a beacon. I followed the sensation until the park came into view and watched from a distant pathway to try and understand the dynamic. The park was shaped in a triangle with tall Karri and Gum trees sheltering the grassed clearing. Any town resident not safely sequestered at home was gathered at the center of the park, huddling around each other for support. A woman with long dark hair broke away from the group. She stumbled, legs caught in her long skirt as she asked the nearest darkling something.

His response was to snarl and snap with Pirahna-like teeth. A ball of fire manifested in his palm and he held it menacingly at the woman.

A Police Officer jerked the woman back to the safety of the group and the darkling extinguished his flames. I gasped when I saw the officer’s face. It was Warren, or Wozza as Jed had called him. He’d been there when Tommy had died. Next to him, I recognized the shire’s mayor—his face grim and restrained as he darted a glance to the right. I followed the mayor’s line of sight to where news vans lined a side street, acting as a backdrop for dozens of camera crews and reporters. They weren’t corralled like the rest of the townspeople, which meant Urser wanted them free to record the event. He wanted the world to see. Whatever happened next could have serious international repercussions.

I moved off the sidewalk and into the park where nature rejoiced at my return. With the most confidence I could muster, I walked straight up to the darkling who had threatened the lady. He was slim, short and young. Upon seeing me, he bared his pointy teeth.

“We’ve been looking for you,” he growled.

“What a coincidence. I’ve been looking for you, too.” I slammed the heel of my powered palms into his chest and let loose. An almighty thunderous crack resounded as more energy than I intended ripped into him. Smoke curled from my touch and he crumpled to the ground, stunned.

Screams erupted from the closest in the crowd and the precarious control shattered. People ran in all directions. The ground shook with the stampede to escape.

“Don’t run. I’m here to help,” I shouted, but no one heard me. I caught the word witch a few too many times on the wind and it tore a desperation from me I didn’t know I felt. “Stop! Seriously. I’m here to help. I’m not a witch like he said.”

It was chaos. The mayor ducked and hid and the crowd dispersed as though there had been an assassination attempt. The few police officers who had been in the group had their guns out, but didn’t know what to do. Point them at me, at the feral and hissing darklings, or back at me. I caught a cameraman with one manic eye on me while the another had his camera pointed at a journalist speaking into her microphone. The woman waved her hand in my direction and then the camera panned to me. I froze—a deer in the spotlight. This was not going according to plan. Who was I kidding? There was no plan!

The two remaining darklings hurled toward me from their opposite ends of the park. One was a woman, one a man. A groan at my feet showed the one I’d felled awakening. Shit.

“Keep him there,” I said, directing my intention into the earth. Vines slithered out of the grass to wrap around the darkling. “Actually, that’s effective. Secure the other two.”

Vines rocketed from the ground to secure their legs. The black-eyed woman halted in her tracks, quickly swallowed by roots to her neck. But the male kept coming. He was fast and strong. His teeth were gnashing razors. Every time a vine wrapped around one of his limbs, he ripped it off with seeming ease. Tendons bulged out of the sides of his neck and veins writhed along his forearms. My God, he was massive.

He made it a few yards from me, and kept coming, arms flailing, hands clawing at the tireless vines reaching to restrain him.

I took a step back. “Okay, the vines aren’t working. Time for plan B.”

The earth lent me her energy and I accepted. I pushed air toward the darkling and hardened it. He became a solid statue, frozen in movement, a hand suspended on its way to rip a vine from his shoulder. His face locked into a forever grimace of the worst contortion. Yeah, I got this.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to pull faces in case the wind changed?” I said as I stepped closer for inspection. His eyes followed me. Creepy.

A quick glance at the crowd had most of them evacuated to a safe distance. Some had disappeared all together. The brave few that were left loitered behind the camera crew. All watched me like frightened little bunnies. Warren stepped out, scratching his graying head.

“Roo?” he asked, hesitantly.

“Hey Wozza.” I gave a small, stupid wave. Didn’t know what else to say.

He smiled. “I knew what he said wasn’t true. I knew you’d come to help.”

I smiled back as relief coursed through me. I pointed with my thumb over my shoulder. “I’m just going to get rid of these things, okay? Then you can go back to your lives.”

He nodded.

It was good to know some of them weren’t so quick to believe Urser’s lies. Still, they kept their distance and the camera crew kept recording. One news presenter spoke quietly into her microphone, probably narrating the event.

With nowhere to hide, I turned back to the first two darklings still tied to the ground under a mountain of vines. I purged them, and then set them free to a chorus of gasps and cries from the bystanders. That left me with the monster frozen in air. I walked up to him and stood in front, weighing my options because the instant I released him from the airlock, he’d come flying at me. In the end, I asked the earth to sink him to his shoulders, leaving just his neck and face exposed.

“That’s more like it,” I said and dispersed the solid air around his face. “Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way.” He snapped at my approaching hands. “Okay, the easy way.”

I pressed my palms to his head and unloaded voltage until his eyes rolled and he convulsed to a stop. Then I purged him as well. Blackness oozed out of his orifices to drip to the floor where it soaked into the ground. I felt a shudder in response, and blades of grass wilted and died—evidence of Urser’s sinister taint.

“I'm sorry,” I said to the earth. “I can see why you hate this so much.”

The ex-darkling groaned as fog cleared from his eyes.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Dorian,” he replied.

“Your House?”

“Draco. American Ludus.”

“Well, Dorian, it’s your lucky day. I’ve saved your soul from eternal damnation and am sending you home. Well, to Purgatory. Technically the Gamekeeper will send you home.”

“What? It’s over?”

“Yes.” I glanced over my shoulder to our captive audience. I didn’t want anyone hearing what I had to say next so used my body to block their view of Dorian then lowered my voice. “Do you remember anything about your time in the dark?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ve been contaminated with Urser’s taint and it allowed him to control you. It turned you into a mindless, rabid killing beast.”

“Oh. For reals?”

“Yeah, for reals. Didn’t seem like you did anything here to hurt anyone but I can’t account for your time with Urser. So I take it you remember nothing?”

He shook his head and looked thoughtful. Then his skin paled. “I remember some.”

“You do?”

He nodded and squeezed his eyes shut. “Bits and pieces. The things I did.” And then the big man suddenly turned into a sobbing mess.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” I touched the top of his head gently. “If there is there anything you can tell me about Urser’s plans, it will help us stop him from doing this to more people.”

“The last thing I remember was being herded like cattle into the Libertine Ballroom. It was odd because the ball wasn’t due to start for another half day and none of us were prepared. We didn’t even get to dress in our masquerade costumes. We thought it might be a final surprise trial, but then… that’s all I remembered.”

“Who herded you there?” I asked with a growing sense of dread.

“Every Watcher in the place, that’s why we believed them. We trusted them.”

My eyes closed with the ramification of what I’d just heard, but I couldn’t let it show on my face. The entire American Ludus was compromised. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes to meet his.

“Thank you, that information is helpful.”

“Also, while I was”—he gulped—“the other thing, I remembered there was someone Urser had feeding him information. Someone close to you.”

“Oh, that was probably Petra when she was inside me. But she’s been gone for months now.”

“No, it was recently. Only days ago. It’s how we knew you would come to rescue this town first. They wanted your actions caught on camera.”

The air solidified in my lungs. My heartbeat kicked it up a notch. “Is there someone here controlling you?”

“No. They set us up then left.”

I could breathe again. “They set you up, all right. They had to know ten of you weren’t a match for me.”

Dorian shrugged. “I’m sorry, I don’t know much else.”

“Any last words?”

“Tell my budgie I love him.”

“Like, as in a bird?”

He nodded solemnly.

“Okay then.” I had no idea where his budgie was, or even if it was alive because the American Ludus had been demolished to the ground. No use dashing his hopes now. “If it’s worth anything, I’m going to do my best to fix this mess, but I’m afraid it’s game over for you.” I placed hands on his shoulders and closed my eyes then pushed his essence out. It separated from his body with ease and drifted away. The ground rumbled then swallowed his body until there was nothing left but dirt.

A flash went off as a photographer took a snap, reminding me they were there. I considered disappearing, but was done running. Time to clear things up.

“Uh, okay,” I said, walking up to the media. “Hi. So, if you want a statement from me, I guess I can make one.”

They stared for a moment. I think one cameraman peed his pants and that made me feel terrible. They were afraid of me. I swallowed and inhaled deeply and looked for a friendly face. Warren was still there, and seeing him gave me the guts to keep going.

“Look. Is your camera on?” I asked the brunette woman with her microphone hanging idly in her hands. She nodded. “Okay, great. So here’s the thing. I’m going to lay it all out there. Gods are real, that is true. We came here thousands of years ago and created humans in our image. We wanted to create beings with the best parts of us, and none of the worst and seeing as power corrupts, we left that part out. But, here’s the thing, Urser got a few things wrong. I wasn’t the one who created witches. He was, and now he’s telling lies to make the good guys seem like bad guys. But I’m here to clean up his mess and send every god who does not belong here home. My goal is to leave you all to live your lives without any divine intervention.”

The female journalist seemed to regain her composure. She shoved the microphone into my face. “What makes your truth more believable than his truth?”

“You mean apart from me saving you all from the darklings? Those creatures were turned evil—infected from the same taint that created witches. Urser can infect anyone, not just gods. That means you too.”

“Richard Brutherford, Chanel Nine News.” Another man shoved a microphone at my face. “It sounds like gods and witches have been running rampant on this planet for centuries. What have they been doing all this time? I mean, why emerge now?”

“Well, I don’t. I…” The question completely threw me off. I had no answer. “I guess they were playing a game.”

“They think human life is a game?”

“No, that’s not what I meant. It wasn’t supposed to hurt humans.”

The brunette shouldered Richard Brutherford out of the way, holding her mic near my face again. “And you said you created us, but then you must have created witches because they’re a derivative of a human soul, right? If you had the power to stop them, why did you leave their evil unchecked for so long?”

“I didn’t.” I blinked. “I didn’t know, I don’t remember anything of that original life.”

“You don’t remember your life? How are we supposed to trust your words if you can’t actually remember?”

“Just who exactly are you?” another fired. “You don’t look very god-like to me. I mean, what are you wearing?”

My heart kicked in my chest and I had the urge to fan my face.

“Well, I’m Roo. I used to live at the Urser Estate.”

“I thought you said Urser was the man responsible for the monstrosities.”

“He is—”

“But you’re an Urser too.”

“—No, I’m… yes I am but—” I stepped backward.

“And you expect us to believe that you’re different from him?”

“I—” I had to get out of there.

Chapter 30

I materialized in my bedroom of the castle. The cold hit me like an ice wall and I ran to my closet for a warm jacket. Once safely ensconced in its folds, I surveyed my room. Dawn streamed through the stained glass windows, painting the furnishings in a rainbow of colors. And there on my enormous bed, surrounded in pillows and blankets, snoring peacefully was Marc. He hadn’t budged in hours.

With my head still spinning from the media and the battle, I was extremely tired. I considered whether I should seek out Cash but quickly dismissed the urge. Why should I report to him when he lied to me? Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t going to run away and never tell him what I had done in Margaret River. After all, that was my main beef with him. No secrets. We had to be open and honest with each other if we had a hope of defeating Urser and discovering who was the mole in our midst. Like that last darkling said—someone was feeding Urser information. I knew I had to tell the Tribunal, but didn’t have the courage yet. The very thought of ensuing panic was almost too much. They’d insist on another stupid meeting, it would take hours of debate, and I was tired. A quick nap first, and then I’d have the energy to face them. I stumbled to the bed and poked Marc in the hollow of his cheek. His head was the only part of his body visible. My soft and luscious duvet covered the rest.

“Hey.” Poke.

He growled, scratched his nose and rolled over. He pulled his blanket away from me and resumed snoring softly.

Poke. Poke. “Marc. Wake up and go to your own bed.”

“I don’t want any. Go away.”

I growled. Poke.

“Whaat?” he mumbled. “I’m not working today. Calling in sick.”

“Are you sick, or just hungover?”

He rolled back to face me and opened a dubious eye. “What are you doing in my room, love?”

“You’re in my room. You passed out on my bed, remember? I want it back.”

He glanced down at the bed. “Oh. Well, there’s plenty of room for two.”

I pulled the covers from his body. “Out.”

“Spoil sport.” He vanished, leaving the real three-piece suit he’d worn the previous night in his place.

I grumbled and grimaced but tugged the clothing out and left them on the ground. After shedding my coat, I unwound a few vine tendrils, but eventually gave up and slipped into the still warm and soft as clouds bedding. Within minutes, I was asleep.

A loud bang woke me and I jackknifed into a sitting position, blanket clutched at my chest. The winter daylight had almost vanished from the windows and the room was cast in a cool, shadowed haze that led me to believe it snowed outside. A black man-shaped shadow stood in the doorway, holding it open.

“So, it’s true,” Cash said abruptly and stepped into the room. “You’re back.”

He let the door close softly behind him and flicked the light switch, illuminating the room further. His hard expression could have been chiseled out of rock, as was the rest of his tense body. He wore the same clothes he’d had on when I’d left him: a black t-shirt, leather jacket, and jeans. His hair was ruffled, his jaw had stubble, and he looked all together scruffy and delicious. When his gaze caught on me, indecipherable emotions ghosted his features. He caught sight of the heap of clothes on the floor and made a choked sound. “Is Marc still here?”

“No,” I said, recoiling, catching his drift. “God, no. I kicked him out the second I returned.”

He relaxed and exhaled. “Good.”

“Did you honestly think”—I glanced at Marc’s clothes and flinched—“that… I don’t know, what did you think? Seriously?”

“What did I think?” His deep voice rose to fill the room. “You drink the wine for our wedding, you share it with Marc”—he scrunched up his nose—“get drunk on Ambrosia, leave us all wrapped up in vines and then leave without an explanation. You didn’t tell anyone where you were going. We had to find out from the television that you were in Australia.”

“Don’t you dare lecture me on keeping secrets.”

“That’s different and you know it.”

“Look, I am sorry about the wine, truly I am. I can promise you I deeply regret drinking it without you. But I’m not sorry I got drunk. I’m not sorry I took a chance and trusted my instincts. Marc was there when I needed a friend and you were off evading and keeping secrets. I didn’t tell you where I went because you would’ve stopped me. You already demonstrated I wasn’t to be trusted, multiple times. You spoke over my head to the other Watchers. I didn’t want the humans harmed. I said to leave them alone and you ignored me.”

“You’re right. I did ignore you because you were drunk. Intoxicated.”

“See, that’s the thing. I wasn’t anymore. As soon as I was attacked, I pushed it all from my system. I can do that, remember? But no one spared a second to listen to me. They all thought I was still the broken little girl who couldn’t think for herself. In come the miraculous all powerful gods to save the day and completely override my decisions. The second I said I was going to leave, your mouth was already open with whatever retort I knew was waiting on your tongue. I could tell from the look on your face that you were going to say something derogative, so I didn’t explain, I just left.”

“You know what I was going to say?” He made it to my side in two swift strides, gaze burning into me, hands gripping my shoulders. He opened his mouth to speak, searched my face with his eyes, then suddenly let go and stepped back. He picked up my coat from the floor and threw it on the bed then stalked to the closet, speaking over his shoulder as he went. “Get dressed. There’s something I need to show you.”

I stared at my jacket in disbelief. Just like that, he expected me to drop everything and go with him. Never mind that he interrupted my much needed sleep. Never mind that we’d been having a serious conversation.

“No,” I said.

He pivoted from the closet, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “What?”

“I said, no. I’m not going anywhere.”

He ignored me and fished out a pair of snow boots and replaced the sneakers he had on. Then he got out a pair for me. I caught his lips lifting on one side in a smirk.

Mocking me?

My vision went red as anger consumed me. I had to draw in slow and steady breaths to calm my furious heart. When my words came out, they were through clenched teeth. “I’m not going with you, Cash. Just because you’re good at ordering people around, doesn’t mean I’m going to jump in line like the rest of them. If you want our relationship to survive, then you have to start treating me as an equal.”

His small smile split to a full faced grin he had to tamper down. He nodded silently as he exposed my feet from the blankets to tug my boots on. He draped the jacket around my shoulders then tugged me in close. The proximity of our faces made his amusement impossible to miss. Then his mood changed. He seemed to look inward and something else flickered in his eyes. Something that made me reach out and rest a palm on his cheek.

“Why did you smile?” I whispered.

“Because you’re back. You came back to me.”

I frowned and for the first time understood what my disappearance would’ve been like for him. We’d been separated too much over our lifetimes. I nearly died a few months ago. And he’d died many times. I sighed. “After everything we’ve been through, did you really think I’d run away? Whatever this is, we can work through it.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He shook his head and lowered it. When he lifted his gaze, my breath caught. “Roo, when you took control last night, stopped things from getting out of hand, and said the things you did, you were a different person. I saw life in your eyes. You knew exactly what you wanted. You were confident and passionate. For the first time since you converted, I knew in that instant that you were back. Do you understand me? The woman who dreamed big enough to end war in the Empire was alive again.”

“But, I still don’t remember, Cash.”

“It doesn’t matter. Do you know what I was going to say before you left yesterday?” Butterflies in my stomach as he leaned closer, intensifying his hold. “I was going to tell you my true name.”

The world stood still.

“You were?”

“So you could call me if you needed me and I would find you, no matter where you were. I should have told you as soon as I remembered after my body converted to Seraphim, but I wanted to save it for a special time.”

“Oh.” Heat washed my cheeks as the enormity of what he said soaked in. That meant he trusted me, but… “So why did you ignore me in front of the others?”

He pulled away with a frown. “I shouldn’t have done that. Can you please get dressed so I can show you something? We can talk more there.”

I opened my mouth to criticize, then stopped short. He asked. He didn’t order. “Okay, but I need to get rid of the vines, and add more layers. A jacket and boots won’t cut it.”

Chapter 31

We followed a narrow path out of the property and into the surrounding forest, heading into the snow covered mountain area. Twenty minutes later and we were huffing and puffing steam from our mouths as we trudged up a slope. It hadn’t been a heavy fall, yet drifts of fluffy clouds were plentiful and I had the urge to make snowballs. I was just about to open my mouth to ask how much further, when Cash pulled up short near a frozen river bed.

“It froze recently which means we can see something normally hidden,” he said and turned to me. Under the light of the moon, the soft shadows of his face and sparkle in his eyes was just visible. When he looked away, I followed his gaze to see little blue lights twinkling along a pathway that led alongside the riverbank to a cliff with a frozen waterfall. The water had formed a long, languid and shiny slope. Blue and white crystallized reflections sparkled like a spilled diamond necklace.

“Wow,” I said.

“It’s beautiful, but not what I was going to show you. Now that it’s frozen, it’s safe to pass. Come on.” He took my gloved hand in his and tugged me further up the path, toward the waterfall. The lights guided us around and behind the frozen wall to a passageway that led into a cave opening. The air was warmer inside and I could hear the drip of water echo in the distance.

I looked at Cash questioningly.

He shot me a cryptic smirk and kept walking. His smugness infuriated me. We’d hardly said a word the entire journey and I was beginning to lose my patience. We’d been in the middle of a heated and important conversation that I wanted to continue, but I also wanted him to trust me, so I had to trust him. Stifling my irritation, I focused on the changing temperature. The more we walked, the warmer it got. The sweet but slightly moldy smell also got stronger. I peeled off my gloves and unzipped my jacket. We followed blue fairy lights until we rounded a corner to a large cavern with a natural stalactite ceiling. Carved limestone stairs led down and plateaued to a smooth, polished ledge leading into a turquoise pool brimming with steaming water. A strip of underwater lights was the only source of illumination in the room. I couldn’t tell if the three mini waterfalls dribbling out of rock formations on the far wall were man-made additions or a natural occurrence. Whatever the case, the slow steady sound of water filtering into the pool was incredibly relaxing.

“Okay, I take back my first wow and up the ante with a whoa. This is incredible.” My voice sounded hollow.

“It’s a hot spring,” Cash revealed and stepped down to land on the bottom platform. He raised his hand for me to hold and helped me down. His cheeks flushed the same pink as the tip of his nose. It almost looked like a blush. “It’s said to have healing and restorative powers. You exerted yourself in Margaret River. Plus, I know you’re always cold here, and thought you might enjoy it. It’s a bit of a hike, but worth it if we need some privacy.”

Privacy? Just what kind of thing was he planning to show me?

I cleared my throat and pretended not to pick up his serious seduction vibes.

“Is this a discovery from one of your past-life memories?” I asked, gazing in wonder at the long limestone walls that seemed to be made of a similar pattern as the waterfall outside. A natural energy thrummed off the walls. It came at me through a frequency that instantly pierced my tension and soothed, begging me to drop everything and float away.

“No,” he laughed sheepishly. “This is all Jacine, I’m afraid. There’s hundreds of hot springs in this country and this one is her little secret.”

I crouched low and dipped my fingers in the warm water. “It’s the perfect temperature.”

When I stood, Cash’s expression had turned serious. He opened his mouth to say something but I held up my hand, cutting him off. “Look. I have to stop you right there. I know what you’re going to say.”

His jaw clamped shut. “You do, do you?”

“Yes I do.”

“Alright, then.” He positioned himself on the edge of a step and settled in with a smirk. “Let’s hear it.”

I shot a derisive glance back and gestured to our surrounds. “I think it’s pretty clear. You’ve brought me to a secluded hot spring. You want to get in my pants but, to be honest, I’m still miffed over our lack of synchronicity and your total disregard for my feelings. I got news for you, buddy. We need to talk about our feelings from time to time. We can’t have a lasting relationship without honesty and trust.”

“You done?”

I put my hands on my hips and stared down at him, a rebuttal on my tongue. “Yes. Fine. I’m done.”

“Good. I completely agree.” He peeled off his jacket and shed the boots.

“You do?”

“Absolutely. While, I’m all for ‘getting in your pants’, I brought you here because there’s some things I need to say and I’d rather do that without a hundred other people listening in. The castle walls have ears and I’m not sure who I can trust.” The humor hadn’t left his eyes as he studied me until his words sank in.

“Oh,” I said. So, he didn’t bring me here to get in my pants. Well, that was disappointing. I guessed I secretly wanted him to. I hugged my jacket to myself, and then something he said sparked a memory. The darkling in Margaret River told me Urser had someone working for him. Cash must know. I gave a more meaningful, “Oh. You’re talking about the traitor we have feeding information to Urser. A darkling mentioned something about a spy before I ended his game.”

Instantly, his humor dropped and the cold, calculated soldier was back. “Come and sit down. I’ll get us a drink.”

“A drink?” I asked as I lowered myself to his step and perched on an edge. We were still a few feet from the water.

“Yeah.” He moved to a dark corner of the cave that I hadn’t noticed on entry and disappeared down a tunnel. His voice echoed back. “There’s another room back here that's always stocked with supplies.”

I discarded my jacket and used its softness to pad the step underneath me so my seat was comfortable. My T-shirt already stuck to my skin from the humidity. My feet were hot in my boots, so I took them off to leave my feet bare. When Cash returned with two ice-cold glass bottles of water, I guzzled mine down greedily.

He came and sat next to me. “What you did in Margaret River seems to have worked.”

“What do you mean?”

“Darklings from around the world have withdrawn from their locations to whereabouts unknown.”

I hadn’t thought about repercussions around the world. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“Guess we’ll just have to wait and see. They left without word, without preamble and without any indication of their reaction to your purge. It all appeared too convenient for my liking and when you consider the retreating darklings somehow managed to evade our trackers, there’s something fishy going on.”

“They evaded all of your trackers? How is that possible?”

“I don’t know. I took all the necessary precautions—I had a different House representative at each location, hoping that if one of them was a spy for Urser, they couldn’t all be, and we would trace at least one group.”

“But they’re all gone?”

Cash nodded, took a deep swig of his drink, then a deep breath. “The Tribunal are constantly bickering and sometimes I’m not sure if they want to stop Urser, or if they want to overrun the planet and rule. Tell me more about the spy.”

“After I purged the darkling, he remembered being woken in the middle of the night and told to go to the Libertine Ballroom. The entire Ludus population had been woken and herded there. They thought maybe it was a surprise trial, but when they got there, well… you know what happened next.”

A deep line etched between Cash’s brows. “What Ludus was that?”

“American, I assume.” I chewed my lip. “He was from Astraia House, so he could access his memories from when he was under the darkling influence. That’s when he remembered someone on the inside feeding Urser information.”

Cash cursed. “Zebedee. It has to be.”

“Are you sure? Zebedee seemed pretty cut up about his House being demolished.”

“No, it makes sense. He’s been the biggest voice against you here. He’s called for you to abdicate and for the Tribunal to takeover, many times. It has to be him.”

“I don’t know, Cash. Thurstan and Cato don’t like me either. In fact, no one really likes me. It could even be Jesop or Lena. Don’t get me wrong, there’s no love lost between Zebedee and me, but I hate to assume. We should just ask him.”

“Ask him? Are you joking?”

“No I’m not. I can monitor his aura, see if he’s lying.”

“He’ll see us coming a mile away.”

“Not if I ask him alone.”

“No. Out of the question.”

I stood up and put my hands on my hips. “See, this is the kind of thing I was talking about earlier. You don’t give me a chance to do my bit. You don’t listen to my suggestions.”

He got up and stood in front of me until all I could see was a face full of brooding, male entitlement. “I’m listening. But I don’t hear a good suggestion. Do you know what Zebedee’s ability is?”

“Nothing I can’t handle, I’m sure.”

“He’s a pyro.”

“I can create fire too.”

“You can’t create fire. You cause flammable objects to burn. He can incinerate the air if he chose to do so. He’s a thousand times more skilled at controlling fire than you. Roo, you’re not invincible.”

He made a frustrated sound and pivoted away to pace the length of the pool. When he came back, he pointed his finger in my face. “You want to talk about not listening? You keep going off half-cocked before getting the full story. You’re setting yourself up for disaster with Zebedee before doing enough reconnaissance.”

I captured his finger in my hand. “Going off half-cocked? Look who’s pointing the finger. Literally! You’re the one who turned a Player into ash without a second thought.”

He yanked on his finger, but I didn’t let go and ended up colliding with his solid chest. He caged me in with his other hand and a pained look swam across his eyes. “Can’t you see I’m trying to protect you?”

His mouth slammed into mine and his emotional floodgates opened. In one split second, I felt everything his ability shielded, and then some. His fear, his love, his desperation… his want. There were so many feelings tearing into my subconscious that I couldn’t tell which were his and which were mine, but I didn’t care. He was never good at explaining his feelings, but this… this I understood. He ferociously poured all of his longing and all of his need into that kiss. I gripped his scruffy hair and tugged him closer, as if that were possible. My response was all the permission he needed to slip his hands under my top, brand my skin with his burning fingers, and blaze a trail upward until he lifted my shirt clear over my head before dropping it to the floor.

Naked from the waist up, I stood there marveling at how he looked back at me with such hunger and desire that I was left speechless and paralyzed. It was the same way I felt. Then we were back in each other’s arms.

“I’m sorry.” He kissed my neck.

“I’m sorry too.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” My head tilted back as he continued to savor my neck. Pleasure rippled through my body, eliciting a moan from my lips. He responded with a deep masculine sound of approval that rumbled from his throat and tugged my body flush against his. He nipped my ear, breath hot on my neck. “If you want to take the lead, then you take the lead.”

“Say the what now?” I pushed his chest until he stumbled back, confused.

“I meant, with this Urser business. You can take the lead, and I’ll do whatever you want. I don’t want to fight.”

As if that ended the conversation he pulled me back into his embrace and lowered his lips to my bare chest but—

“No. Cash.” I placed my palms on the side of his head and lifted. I arched back so we were eye-to-eye. The urge to say Haven’t you been listening? was overwhelming. “I don’t want one of us to lead, I want us to be equals. Partners.”

His frown deepened. “I’ve never had that. We’ve never had that.”

“Precisely. I don’t want history to repeat itself. We’re partners in this, all the way. Not just marriage.”

“You want me to be your king?”

“No! I mean, of course I would… but I don’t want to be Queen at all.”

His face deadpanned and he let go of me. I folded my arms to cover my chest and backed up. My heart clenched at the thought that perhaps he wanted the opposite. It had never occurred to me and I suddenly realized I was guilty of the exact thing I had accused him of.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I should have been clear with you from the start. I guess we both have some lessons to learn about partnership.”

He scrubbed his face with his hand as if to wake himself up. My worry intensified. “Okay,” he said. “If you don’t want to be Queen, what do you want?”

“What do I want?” I thought about it for a moment. “Okay, let me preamble my next words by saying this isn’t an order, it’s not an ultimatum, it’s just my feelings. I want to rid this planet of Urser and his stupid darklings. I want to send all Players home and then I want to restore this planet to the pristine glory it was before our kind came and decimated it. Then, when all that is over, I want live out my life simply, here—hopefully with you in it. I know it’s a lot, and maybe impossible, but it’s a dream, and you asked, so there it is. On the table. Your turn. What do you want?”

“You.” His eyes softened and he stepped closer to me. “Any which way I can.”

“No,” I whined softly. “That’s the same as me dragging you around and ordering you to do things. There has to be more to your life than me. That’s not a partnership.”

His hands tightened on my hips and tugged me close. “I can’t help it. You have no top on and that’s all I can think about.”

“Cash, this is serious.”

“Fine.” He swiftly pulled his shirt over his head and threw it behind him. His body was carved to perfection, each ridge and valley of his chest and abs so defined he could have been made from stone, and it was a low shot. He knew how much I loved staring at him. He shrugged as if to challenge me. “You have no shirt, I have no shirt. How’s that for equal.”

“Not the kind of equality I was talking about.”

He stared. A minute ticked past. And another. Then: “Tiarnan.”

“What?”

“That’s my true name. You’re the only person beside myself to know that, and if you say it—”

“Tiarnan?”

Cash cursed and doubled over, bracing himself on his knees as a severe wave of unbridled tingles and tremors crashed over him. Muscles rolled under his skin as he tensed struggled to remain upright. It was entirely possible the ground rumbled, but I couldn’t hear it over the roar of blood rushing in my ears. Wow. He breathed deeply until the sensations stopped a full minute later. I was about to apologize—or congratulate him—when his head whipped up and his molten gaze locked on mine with a single minded purpose. “You’re going to be sorry you said that.”

I squealed and backed up, a thrill rising through my body. Fear, anticipation, or enjoyment, I didn’t care. I was done arguing.

“You want to know what I want?” Cash asked. “I want for you to be naked”—he stalked toward me—“for me to be naked. For us to be in that water and”—he popped the button on the fly of my jeans and pushed them, underwear and all, to the floor—“and for us to be whispering our true names to each other until the walls crumble from our desire.”

I shivered in expectation.

“It was your plan, all along, wasn’t it?”

“Maybe. Now, I’m afraid I’m a little overdressed.” He took my two hands and guided them to his velvety abdomen. “What were you saying about us being on the same page?”

“Fine, I give up,” I whispered and undid the buckle on his pants. Never taking my eyes from his, I lowered my mouth to his chest, let my lips find the taut pebble of his nipple and circled it while my fingers slid inside the barrier of his pants and pushed down.

He made an appreciative grunt and cupped my rear. Before I knew what was happening, we were kissing in the warm water. Our hands were all over each other, groping, touching, taking, and it was almost as though we’d been waiting years. We kept slipping under the surface and coming up for air. The pool wasn’t that deep, but we couldn’t focus on which limbs to put where until Cash hiked me up to sit on the smooth lip of the pool. He stood, waist deep in front of me, burning gaze locked on mine.

“Promise me you won’t run off again without me,” he said, voice strained.

I trailed his cheek with a feather light finger. “I promise. And promise you won’t keep secrets from me anymore.”

“Never.” His strong hands slipped behind my upper back. “Lay down.”

He supported me as I leaned backward until my shoulders rested on the smooth, polished limestone. He loomed over me and touched his lips to mine in a soft caress. Then he tugged me gently toward him until my hips dipped into the water, floating perilously close to his eager body. The weightlessness made me listless and, every time he moved, the warm water splashed onto my cooler naked torso, tormenting me with delightful sensations.

As he straightened his body, his hot and calloused hand slid sensuously down from my collarbone, trailing a rivulet of water. His firm pressure circled my breast and then nipple, eliciting tiny sparks of ecstasy that skipped over my skin, making me squirm. He continued to stroke down my abdomen and across to my hips where he gripped tight and entered me with a single, hot thrust. Water splashed and I gasped. Every nerve in my body rejoiced.

A low, breathy sound escaped him as he ground into me, reveling in his own sensations. Then he pulled out in a steady, controlled motion until only the tip of him touched me, teasing. Looking up at him, I was completely taken with everything about him. He wanted me. Needed me. And for the first time it really hit me, I needed him too, and that was okay. His body tensed, skin tight over sinuous threads, every muscle straining for control, then he pushed forward, penetrating as deep as he could.

The sharp sting of pleasure had me crying out and I lifted to meet him, greedy. “More.”

“Hold on to the ledge,” he said and helped me find the edge of the pool to grip with both hands. He plunged, leaving me trembling in desire, and then continued—in, out, in—relentlessly, until I thought of nothing but the feel of him and the build of rapturous sensations. My thighs clenched and I gasped with the oncoming climax, gripping the ledge tight.

“Not yet.” Cash pulled me upward so fast I became light headed and clung to him. My body was hard against his chest, and sitting back on the edge of the pool, not floating in the water. We embraced for a moment—hot naked bodies pressed together. Then he drew out of me. He whispered my true name hotly near my ear and entered deep.

An intense shock-wave of ecstasy crashed through me. My mouth opened in a silent cry as white shrouded my vision, and the euphoria stole all sense from my mind. I bit down on his shoulder to muffle my scream. My fingers clawed into his back, nails tore into his skin, while the earth quite literally shook beneath us. Then I might have cursed, or called for divine intervention, but wave after wave of bliss bewildered me until he entered me again, and again, in slow, languid strokes.

Unable to move, I moaned and flopped backward until my back hit the smooth stone. He continued moving inside me until I went limp, unable to do anything but gaze at him while he submitted to his carnal instincts with increasing momentum. Each time he plunged, he brought himself closer to release—the crease of concentration in his forehead deepened. And then I whispered, “Tiarnan.”

He let out a suppressed roar that trembled the air. His fists punched beside my head, cracking the rock, and then he collapsed on top of me, face buried into my neck while he rode the sensations until he could breathe again and made tiny satiated sounds. Tiny flecks of limestone crumbled from the stalactites above us and for a moment I panicked that we were going to bury ourselves in our wanton disregard. But the cave roof held, the walls stood firm and Cash kissed me softly on the lips, on the chin, on the neck, whispering sweet nothings until I guided his mouth back to mine.

After a few moments he gently coaxed me into the warm water and we floated listlessly, staring into one another's eyes.

“Sometimes I wish you would remember us,” he said quietly, after a time.

“My heart remembers.”

A sharp breath escaped him that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

“Don’t knock it! I’m serious. From the first time we kissed, my body recognized you were special to me. That feeling doesn’t leave.”

“I suppose you get to fall in love with me all over again. Lucky you.”

My turn to snort. “Joke’s on you. I’m already madly in love with you.”

“Good.” He gathered me into his arms at the same time as a tumble of dust crumbled from the stalactites above us. We glanced up and he grinned. “Told you we’d crumble the walls.”

“Mm,” I said and sank further into the soothing warmth. “Maybe next time we don’t test the structure of the cave.”

“Nah, you got it sorted.”

“You trust me to hold a collapse and get us out?”

He enveloped my hand in his and pulled it to his heart. “I trust you with my life. Always have.”

Chapter 32

Cash and I fell asleep on a bed of our jackets and some towels we’d pilfered from the store room. The night had been filled with precious moments, sleep, and tangled limbs. By the time morning came, my stomach growled at my laziness. I was starving, and not the only one.

I pulled my shirt on and sat on a step, tucking the hem of my pants into my boots. Cash had just finished buttoning his coat so gathered the fallen mess of towels to discard in a laundry hamper in the store room. He was a step back into the cave when he tensed. A glance my way, and a finger to his lips had me pausing. The hairs on my arm rose to attention and my internal alarm bells went off. Cash cocked his head, listening, and prowled up the steps to the cave exit. His hunter persona replaced the serene side I’d spent the last hour getting to know. Now, each step fell quietly and cautiously until he backed onto the wall next to the doorway, his face hard with lethal readiness. Within moments, our relaxed hideaway haven became the worst imaginable setup for an ambush.

Cash didn’t move.

I opened my mouth to speak when he hissed, “Shh.” He waved for me to come to him. In a burst of speed, I closed the gap between us and thumped into him. He drew me to his side and whispered, “I smell something off.”

I stifled a laugh as a teenager joke about smells came to mind, but was abruptly shut down when I picked up the very real threat in his eyes. I took a deep breath and forced my hyperactive imagination to calm down. Okay, Roo. Not a time for jokes.

And then I felt it. A dark energy intruded down the tunnel from the waterfall. I peeked around Cash’s body to look. All I could see was a faint lighter circle at the end of the long, shadowed corridor. My eyes saw nothing, but my sixth sense picked up energy. Gritty, slick, and dark. My heart sped up. I clutched Cash’s jacket at his chest, eyes wide. “There’s something out there.”

He caught my gaze. “Friendly?”

I shook my head. “I’ve never felt this presence before—no wait. I have. In Houston. It was the slippery essence that followed Marc around.” Oh shit.

“Stand back.” Cash moved me behind him then activated his sword. Red, yellow and white flickering flames extended from his right hand with an almighty crackle and hiss that echoed in the cave. If whatever was out there doubted we knew of its existence, it didn’t now.

“Wait,” I said, stopping Cash from moving. I focused my attention down the pathway to confirm. The dark energy retreated. Fast. “It’s leaving.”

Cash launched himself down the path in pursuit. His flaming sword carved a streak that went so fast it painted a stroke of light. He got to the end of the tunnel, paused and then his silhouette vanished.

Just like that, he was gone.

I groped wildly with my senses for his aura, but was unable to grasp him. If he didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t. Bile rose in the back of my throat and I imagined the worst possible. Nothing. Nothing out there. I stifled a gasp. Was he—?

Cash’s shadow reappeared at the entrance and I let out the breath I held. He extinguished his sword and stalked back down the internal path toward me.

“It’s gone,” he stated gruffly when he got to the chamber.

“There was definitely something there.”

“I agree.” He picked up my jacket from the floor and handed it to me. “Put this on and we can go back. I think Marc’s had enough beauty sleep. Time for him to answer a few questions.”

I donned the coat and rushed through the tunnel to where he’d stationed himself at the cave opening to keep watch. The air was cooler and occasionally, a gust of icy wind breeched the area we sheltered in. It had begun to lightly snow and I dreaded the walk home, especially with something hunting us. That reminded me. I slapped him on the chest with the back of my hand.

“What was that for?” He scowled at me.

“For going off half-cocked. You had me thinking someone had...” I swallowed the lump in my throat, unable to finish the sentence. When his silhouette had vanished, the worst kind of dread had gripped my soul.

“I was just checking the perimeter.”

“I know that, now.” I shook my head. “Jeez, I’m sounding so high maintenance. I know we promised each other we wouldn’t run off like that, and I’m only now realizing how out of reach that promise might be. I’m sorry. I’ll try to worry less when you’re doing your thing.”

“Don’t. It’s how I know you love me.” His warm lips touched mine in a gentle caress. “Just try and trust that I know what I’m doing,” he added.

“And where does that leave me?” I breathed, trying to gauge his response in the blue shadows of the night. “How can I do what I do and not worry you’re worrying about me?”

He was quiet for a stretch as he understood what had just happened. “Just make sure you tell me first before you gallivant around the world.”

“Gallivant?” I poked him.

“You know what I mean. I’d rather be with you, but I’m acutely aware who I’m in love with. Promise you’ll tell me where you are so I can come if you need me.”

“Okay. I can do that.” I stood on my tip-toes and kissed him quickly on the lips.

We made our way outside. Cool air slammed into my face and ice crunched under my feet. I glanced down to investigate. Large shards of ice littered the pathway and, for the first time, I noticed something missing from the cave opening.

“Holy moley,” I said, pointing at the debris. “That’s the waterfall.”

This time, I didn’t miss the smirk on Cash’s face as he stepped into the moonlight. “It was good for me too.”

I snorted then stiffened as I sensed an aura approaching fast. Cash’s advanced hearing must have caught the jogger at the same time because he also tensed. Before he could go flaming Samurai, I held up my palm. “It’s okay.”

A few seconds later, Jed came running toward us. “There you are.”

“Here we are,” Cash repeated with a stern look on his face. “I told you I didn’t want to be interrupted unless the world was ending.”

The grave look Jed returned told us everything.

Back at the castle, we’d shed our snow sodden clothes and joined the rest of the Tribunal in the makeshift War Room.

Members of the Tribunal sat at the round table in the far corner of the room. The television screens were off, and the somber tone was amplified by the vibe from each aura as the group spoke in hushed tones to each other. Thankfully, the table was covered with various breakfast food. I didn’t think I could hide my tummy rumbles if I didn’t eat, plus it gave me an excuse to survey the room without speaking. I plucked a croissant from a tray and nibbled as I took stock.

A leader from each surviving House was present along with their seconds or a trusted Player. Cato and Thurstan sat together, looking very much like the cruise ship captains with their white suits and tailored shirts. Lena sat next to them in her powder blue robe with matching blindfold. Jesop stood at her shoulder, also wearing the signature powder blue of Corvus House. Zebedee was next in line in a black robe cut and tailored to his long body. His dark eyes, skin and hair contrasted with the rest of the people at the table, except one other person I didn’t remember meeting. A woman with olive skin and a short afro sat next to him in a tight, wrap dress that had a snake emblem on the breast. Epsilon House. I thought all of them had disappeared after the fall of the Australian Ludus.

My gaze snapped back to Zebedee for a minute. The last time I was in here, I’d made a fool of myself and he’d made a derogative comment about letting the grownups handle the situation. I could feel aversion boiling off his aura as he met my gaze. He was probably right. I had acted like a child, but my instincts proved right. I’d conquered the blockage over my power and saved a number of souls. I wasn’t backing down, now. I had as much right to be here as anyone else.

I chomped on the buttery croissant.

On the other side of the room, sat a number of lesser important people near the phones. Jed was among them. He gave us a quick smile then his face returned to its stony countenance as he eyed off the Tribunal, waiting for the show to begin. He stood with his arms folded, biceps pushed out, obviously tense. Marc, on the other hand, who for some reason lounged at that table instead of the main one, was completely ignorant to my arrival. For once, he wore an outfit I’d never seen on him: a pair of training sweats that hung loosely from his hips and a T-shirt. It looked as though he’d been out for a morning jog, if you could believe it. Then my eyes snagged on the some reason keeping him at the table. A young red-headed woman in a white tennis dress, showing him how the phones worked. Marc made all the appropriate agreement sounds, but his eyes were never on the phone, they were roaming her face. He must have felt my presence because he looked up suddenly and met my eyes with a brief smile.

I turned to Cash and nodded Marc’s way.

Cash tilted low to speak in my ear. “I’ll nab him before we finish.”

I nodded and let Cash lead me to an empty seat. He stood behind me while the last remaining Watchers trickled in and took their seats. In the end, the room was filled to capacity. Everyone had turned up to this meeting. Whatever had happened must be dire. Cash’s steady grip on my shoulder and his cynical gaze over the gathering, had me believe he thought the same thing. One of these people was a traitor.

Chapter 33

“Thank you all for coming,” Jacine said, taking the lead. Today she wore a long, dark woolen cowl-necked dress that hugged her figure. The pink was fading from her impeccable hair to reveal a white washed color. She sent a meaningful look my way before speaking. “I’m sure most of you have heard the news, but I’ll repeat it for the sake of latecomers.”

I sunk a little lower in my seat. She redirected her glance to the end of the room where Marc tittered with the red-head as she gestured at the old-school phone handset. All eyes in the room moved to follow Jacine’s gaze. Still, Marc had no clue, or didn’t care that we all waited for him. I reached with my power and lifted the phone clear out of the girl’s hands to float high above their head. An instant scowl crossed Marc’s face as he fronted on us.

“You ready to join us?” I asked.

Marc’s eyebrows lifted sky-high as he noted the attention on him. “Didn’t see you there, love, what with all that glow about you. Finally deigned to join us, then?”

A smile battled a scowl on my face as I watched him saunter over. He gave Cash a wink and then stood next to him, facing the table. “Right. I’ve got my glad rags on, ready for action.”

“Not just yet, Marc, we have to be in consensus that’s the right course of action.” Jacine indicated to the table, garnering nods from all of them.

“No consensus needed. The sod has broken the terms of the Game, the terms of the banishment, and well, the bloody terms of life. By the power vested in me, I’m ready to exterminate the lot of them. This is what I’ve been put here for. Just let me go and do my job.”

“I’m sorry, did you say exterminate?” I swung to look at Marc.

“Nobody’s going anywhere until we know what’s happened,” Cash said, interrupting. “Jacine?”

Jacine opened her mouth to speak, but Marc beat her to it. “He’s gone and massacred an entire airport full of innocents.”

The blood seeped from my face. “Where?”

“Brazil,” Jacine added. “It appears he’s heading back to the gate, this time with an army decimating anything in his path.”

“Why is he going to the gate? I thought it was useless without my blood?”

“He must know something we don’t,” Cato said. “The Gamekeeper is right. We can’t afford to stand by and let this happen.”

“Are you implying I’ve been doing nothing to stop Urser?” I was shocked at his tone.

“He doesn’t need to imply,” Zebedee replied. “It’s the truth.”

Cash let go of my shoulder and glared at each of them. “Do I need to remind you all that the course of action we’ve taken so far has been of our own devising? Roo’s recovery as such has given her little say in our directives. In fact, the moment she was strong enough, she took it upon herself to start purging the souls—your House souls—from the darkness.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late. Her actions have directly caused Urser’s current course,” Zebedee added. “It’s obvious. He was placated until she poked her nose into the business.”

My stomach rolled with the realization that he spoke the truth. Innocent people were alive until I jumped to Margaret River with a drunken God complex and the desire to prove my worth. Cash said Urser had pulled all the darklings out of their occupied countries and I thought I’d won. I thought I’d scared him off and he’d run away with his tail between his legs, but I was wrong.

“He wanted this all along,” I said quietly. “And I’ve walked us all directly into his path. He lured me out to my home town, threatening to hurt them all. Think about it. He systematically threatened the occupants of multiple countries, and when I didn’t move, he made for Margaret River. It was a test, to see if I would come. And I did. Now, he’s killing people, he knows I’ll come.” I met Jacine in the eye. “He wants me at the gate, doesn’t he?”

“No,” Cash said before Jacine had a chance to speak. “You’re not going.”

“Like I said,” Marc added, “I’m free to waste them all.”

“Those people are only breaking the rules because Urser has forced them. They’re not in control of their minds. Will you damn their souls to finality because of Urser?” I said.

“Love, I can be there in an instant.”

I stood up. “So can I.”

“So come.”

“We’ll all go,” Cato said, standing too. “If there were any a moment that we all need to show a united front, it’s now.”

“I agree,” Zebedee said, rising. “With all of us there, we can surely take him out with the least amount of casualties possible. Cut the head off, and the beast will wither and die.”

“Right.” Marc pointed at him. “I’ll go and get it done. You chaps can join in when you get there.”

“Hold your horses, Marc,” Cash said. “I have sleeper security teams dispersed around the gate. We planned for this. I’ll redirect them to join the local authorities in their efforts to stop Urser.” He looked at Jacine. “So, has it just been the airport?”

“No. They’re leaving a trail of destruction, heading back into the Amazon, toward the gate.”

“Do you have an ETA?”

“A couple of hours.”

“We can’t wait,” I said. “Marc and I can be there instantly. You can send your men to catch up with us, Cash, and then the rest of you can join.”

“You’ll be walking into a trap.” The disbelief on Cash’s face said it all. “You think dying is the worst thing he can do to you? The darkness he spreads can infect Seraphim too. The fact that he hasn’t done this already only speaks to an ulterior motive.”

A flash of Urser’s rotten power decimating that plant at the lab entered my mind. Cash was right. He’s had this destructive power for a long time. I was almost too afraid to ask, “And what is that?”

“If he infects Seraphim as well as Nephilim, he’ll burn through his allies on this planet. But what if he gets the gate open? He won’t need allies once he’s reunited with the rest of his war planet. He won’t give a shit who he infects after he’s got a free path home. Am I the only one who remembers why he agreed to come to Earth in the first place? It wasn’t to be among the first pioneers in the new life. It wasn’t even to test the safety for his people. It was to discredit everything the queen was doing. Does no one remember his scathing reports back to the Empire’s Board of Safety?”

Around the table, people shuffled, shrugged and murmured.

“What are you talking about?” Cato asked.

Cash opened his mouth to elaborate, but Lena spoke instead. “I remember,” she started as the memories came to her. “The heads of Houses had to write efficiency and safety reports. The intention was to have an independent body assess the reliability of the Earth project before allowing Seraphim to visit.”

“That’s right,” Cash added. “Urser had never hidden the fact he disapproved of the project, in fact, he took every opportunity to tell anyone who listened that he hated the queen acceding the throne after his brother died. And now he’ll be armed with a weapon that’s been tried and tested, ready to use of his own volition. I think his ploy had never been about control of this Earth, but of the Empire.” He turned to me. “This is a trap. After you proved you could teleport on your own, he knows only you and Marc can come in time to save the people he threatens. Once he has the two most powerful beings on this planet in his grasp, it’s no big step in logic to see he’ll convert you to darkling so he can control you.”

“So I’m supposed to let all these people die because of me?” Tears burned my eyes.

“I might have something,” Jesop said from his spot behind Lena. He pulled a plastic vial from the front pocket of his hoodie and placed it on the table. “This is the vaccine I’ve been working on. It’s only been tested on Lena, and we’ve only had one round of exposure to measure against, but as you can see, she’s doing fine. She’s not infected.”

“How are we supposed to tell?” Thurstan shot. “We can’t see her eyes to see if they’re dark.”

Lena’s head made a move, as if she were rolling her eyes. “I’m sure the Gamekeeper and the queen can attest to my soul’s purity.”

“She looks fine to me.” Marc gestured for Jesop to roll him the vial for a look-see. “Where do I sign up?”

“Anyone wishing to vaccinate can meet Jesop in the medical lab after this meeting,” I said.

And then, a funny thing happened. Everyone made to move as if my word was final. They’d seen my test of power and now they deferred to my instruction. My chin jutted in pride and for once I felt as though I knew what I was doing, and then Cash burst my bubble when he raised his voice, “Sit down, everyone. We’re not done yet.”

I frowned at him.

He gave me a look I couldn’t decipher and then surveyed the room. “So, to be clear, we all agree we travel to Brazil as a united front. All of us together.”

“Except Marc and me,” I added, knowing full well he was trying to avoid that exact thing. His flared nostrils, and crease between his brows proved me right. I met the eyes of everyone else at the table. “Is anyone opposed to Marc and I heading in first?”

A few uncertain glances flittered around the room and I could feel the weight of Cash’s eyes boring into me. Jacine was the one to speak. “You are Queen. You are free to do as you please.”

“Right. Good. Well, that’s settled. Marc and I will go to the medical lab to be the first vaccinated. After that, we’ll head to South America. The rest is up to Cash to coordinate.”

“Roo.” Cash grabbed my arm as I made to leave. “Don’t.”

“We’ll talk about it at the lab.”

“There’s another matter we need to discuss while everyone is here.”

My insides tightened. Please don’t make a big deal, Cash. Let me go.

Then he spoke, proving me wrong: “I think we should all submit to an aura integrity check before the vaccine is administered.”

“Are you doubting me?” Lena’s hand fluttered to her throat. “Do you think the vaccine hasn’t worked, because I can assure you, Jesop and I have been working tirelessly on it, and I would never have submitted myself to it without being certain it was ready for testing.”

“No, Lena, it’s not you,” I said.

“It’s come to our attention,” Cash said, “that one of you is a traitor, and we mean to find out who.”

Collective gasps sounded around the room. Confusion, wariness and surprise broke out amongst the expressions at the table. Each person looked to the left or right of them, caution creeping over their features. Tension expanded, blanketing us all. Even the lesser gods near the phones weren’t immune. With Marc’s help, we’d screen them all.

“Cash, please man the door. Anyone attempting to leave without submitting to a check will be reprimanded and make no mistake, if you are the person we’re looking for, there will be no mercy. Marc, please join me with the inspection.”

“Love, don’t you think this is a little overboard? I think I’d know if anyone had been keeping things.”

I took a deep breath then looked him in the eye. “Cash and I sensed the entity that followed you a few months ago.”

He blinked rapidly. “No, that’s not possible. I killed it.”

“I don’t know what to tell you other than it’s back.”

“You’re sure?”

I nodded.

“Blimey.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Zebedee said, standing up. He nudged the woman next to him. “But I want to hear more about this supposed traitor before I agree to any examination.”

The Epsilon woman nodded. “I too would like more information.”

“Marc?” I gestured to him.

“Well, you see, it’s like this. Something dark and slippery followed me for the better part of weeks. Gods, I don’t know how long it had been watching, undetected. Jacine, you remember, don’t you love?”

“You mean that thing you sensed at the London Ludus was actually a thing listening in on our conversation?” She was horrified to the point that I wondered what they’d been speaking about. “I thought you were just making an excuse to get out of there.”

“It was real.”

“Why are you only now telling us about this?” Cato narrowed his eyes at Marc.

“Because I thought I killed it when I visited the witch, Eve.” Marc’s gaze went dark and distant as he recalled the situation. Suddenly, his blue eyes locked on mine and widened.

“What?” I asked.

“Eve controlled it, like a snake charmer. She told me the Dark Lord had sent it. Considering our dear hunter’s recently returned memories told us the prince died with him all those years ago, I thought she meant Urser. Either way, I took the entity through the in-between with me. When I returned, it was gone. I assumed its atoms entangled, or it was lost to time.”

Pins and needles prickled my skin. “Marc. Didn’t you say the entity followed you through the in-between?” I asked. “That day you interrupted me shopping. You said it had followed you.”

Marc failed to grasp my meaning. “And?”

My head dropped into my palm as I sought the courage to speak. Silence expanded.

“She means you didn’t kill it. It’s not like a normal soul. It’s atoms didn’t entangle when you let go.” Cash’s voice came from behind me and I knew he’d taken up a stance at the door, preventing anyone from escaping. “Whatever—whoever—followed you is still alive.”

“That thing followed me for weeks. Possibly longer. I could only follow it after I became aware of it. What if it’s gotten better at hiding?” The understanding hit Marc squarely in the chest and he staggered. “You mean to tell me that bloody Urser could know everything, even this meeting?”

“Yes, and going by the quality of the intel Urser has been receiving, the source of his knowledge must be in this room.”

Chaos erupted, voices raised, as everyone stood to defend themselves. Watchers pointed fingers at each other. Cash had his eye firmly on Zebedee. Marc stepped back to the wall, looking despondent. And most of the people at the phone table crossed the room and stood behind a Watcher in a show of House support. All moved, except one.

Jed.

Jed sat back casually, arms folded, eyes on me.

The raised voices of arguing Watchers faded to white noise as my whirring thoughts clicked together, puzzle pieces slotting and fitting in place. The walls closed in on me in warped focus.

Jed with his black hair regrowth. It should have been blond, like the genetic anomaly in all other Players. Jed with his missing abilities. He said he was too insignificant for a large star-map, and we’d never fully checked. Now I realized, it was all so convenient. Coldness trickled down my spine when I thought of Jed being outside the cave, minutes after we’d chased the dark presence away. Oh, he had abilities all right, he was only hiding them. It was Jed all along, but I had been blind-sighted because he was my friend.

The same friend whose lips curved in a secret smile, just for me, moments before blackness erupted out of him and the room disappeared into darkness.

Chapter 34

“What the hell was that?” Cash shouted, rushing to me as the shadows in the room dissipated, along with any trace of Jed.

I ran to the spot Jed had sat in and groped the air, flailing, trying hopelessly to catch any sense that he was still there.

“It was the presence,” Marc said, coming over.

“Where’s Jed?” Cash asked, seeing my panic. “Was he taken?”

I shook my head wildly. “It was him, Cash. He was the traitor.”

“Jed?”

“Who’s Jed,” someone said behind me the same time as another voice chimed in, “Did he just teleport?”

“He’s gone, so I guess he did.” My voice came out in through a daze. I still couldn’t believe it. My mind groped for a reason my logic was wrong, but it had been there, right in front of my eyes. That smile. That connection. He knew I’d figured it out, and he smiled.

“Are you telling me that someone else can travel through the in-between?” Jacine asked. “Marc? Is that possible?”

“Well,” Marc replied, “Sephie, I get, but this other bloke… I have no idea who he is? What Ludus was he from?”

“Australian,” Cash said.

“What House?”

“Ah.” Cash pinched the bridge between his nose as he tried to think. “I don’t remember. He always said he was too insignificant to come from a major House.”

“So, nobody knows who the bleedin’ hell this man is, or where he’s from?”

“You’re the Gamekeeper!” Jacine threw up her hands. “You tell us.”

“I transport the souls. I don’t catalog them and record them!”

“Guys, guys. Please.” I waved my hands in a downward motion. “Let’s just calm down a moment. He’s gone. He’s the traitor. That means he’s not listening.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh gods, he was in my castle!” Jacine cried. “The refuge is compromised.”

Marc strolled over to Jacine and wrapped his arm around her trembling shoulders. “Don’t worry, pet, we know what to look for now. We’ll find the kid.”

“The kid,” Cash said suddenly, frowning. I thought maybe he disagreed with the term because Jed wasn’t that young. He wasn’t old either, maybe in his thirties, but I supposed next to Marc, most people were young. Cash continued to pace, eyes flicking to and fro as he calculated. Then he stopped and caught my eyes. “I think I know who he is.”

Instead of revealing his thoughts, he cursed. Then he swore some more and slammed his fists on the table.

The only one not cowered by his sudden outburst, I crossed the room to place a steady hand on his shoulder. When he looked up, sweat beaded his forehead. “It’s Alkiemon. Your son.”

“What?”

“The bloody prince,” Marc said.

“Think about it,” Cash continued. “If I survived that day, it’s not a far stretch to imagine he did too. That dark, slippery essence he can detach from his body, it’s eerily similar to what a witch can do, right? He had the first black serum oozing through is veins, but he had too much control. I don’t think Urser meant for him to attack the first settlement when he did. Since then, Urser has spent years perfecting the serum so he’s got full control of any new darkling he creates. Jed—Alkiemon is the prince, and now he’s evolved into something else. He’s helping Urser finish his original plan: To create an army to take over the Empire.”

I sat down hard on a chair. This was way above my pay grade.

“We need to involve the governing authority at the Empire,” I said finally. “Surely there’s more people who can help. It wasn’t all me, was it?”

“They can’t help until the gate is open. And besides, nothing’s changed,” Cash said. “We knew we had a traitor who had inside knowledge. So we’re no worse off than before.”

“That’s right,” Marc added. “I’m still going to exterminate all of them.”

Cash shot him a jaded look. “I meant that we can use the knowledge the prince gained against him. For starters, what can we do to up the ante on what we’ve already planned? How can we surprise him?”

We were all silent for a few minutes, letting his question gestate.

Then I thought of something. “The vaccine. Can it be adapted for human use?” I thought of James and his infection. “Urser has used humans before, he could do it again.”

“Yes,” Jesop said. “I can adapt it for humans. But how would we get it to all of them in time?”

“I could help with that,” Cato said.

Everyone in the room gave him a curious look.

“The water supply,” he elaborated. “Thurstan and I can use our abilities to spread the vaccine exponentially—even carry it to the air if we need.”

“Great. When Jesop creates a big enough batch, you two do that. Unless anyone has a problem with that?” I asked.

I caught Cash’s eyes, expecting him to have something to say, but he was already looking at me with a small knowing smile. “Good thinking.”

A little warmth bloomed in my chest and I smiled back, but then Cash’s mood darkened and I knew I wouldn’t like the next words out of his mouth. “There’s another way we can surprise Urser,” he said. “I’ll travel with you.”

“What do you mean?” I asked cautiously.

“Lena,” Cash looked at her. “Being soulmates means I’m connected with Roo, right? Do you think it’s enough to get me through the in-between?”

Lena appeared thoughtful for a minute. “In theory, it’s possible. If that Jed truly is the prince, and he’s developed the ability to travel through the in-between, then perhaps that ability has been in his genetics and passed down from the queen. Considering you’re the queen’s soulmate and her blood was used to convert you, yes … it’s possible, but not a certainty.”

“But I stole that ability off Marc, didn’t I? Accidentally, I mean. It wasn’t on purpose.”

“If you took that ability from me, love, it happened long ago—perhaps even when we were children,” Marc added. “We grew up as neighbors and best friends. We spent a lot of time together. While you were always able to travel with me, you’ve never been able to do it alone until now. I think it evolved in you.”

“So it’s settled, then.” Cash clapped and rubbed his hands together. “We’ll all get vaccinated, then head to the gate. The rest of you can follow the traditional way, by plane.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” I held up my hand, heart thumping wildly. “We haven’t settled anything. What happens if you die while traveling?”

“Should we at least test the theory?” I asked. “Lena?”

“I don’t think testing would make a difference. It’s either going to work, or it won’t. If you want to take a risk, it won’t matter if you make a short trip, or a long trip,” she replied.

“That’s right,” Marc added. “Your atoms either entangle, or they don’t.”

“I don’t think that will happen.” He looked me in the eye. “I have faith you will keep me safe.”

The niggling feeling in my gut didn’t agree with him.

A few minutes later I followed Cash into the medical laboratory in the castle basement. He’d arrived first and flicked on the lights to illuminate the cold, stone room. Equipment had been cleaned, sterilized and neatly put away for the day and a station had been set up near the plastic covered recliner that had a rack of vials on a metal table, ready with syringes. Lena and Jesop had obviously expected everyone to agree to the vaccinations.

“Right, I’ll go first, shall I?” Cash removed his jacket, folded it neatly, and then handed it to a wide-eyed me. I took it on reflex.

Lena and Jesop were still to enter the room, so it was just me and my misguided fiancé.

“Cash, you can’t come with me through the in-between.”

“I’ve thought about it, Roo, and it’s something he won’t expect. Neither of them will.”

“But…”

His gaze turned fierce. “You expect me to let you be bait without me?”

My mouth hung open.

“That’s what you were planning to do, wasn’t it? Be bait, let Marc somehow swoop in from the side? Well, I got news for you, Urser knows everything about you. He knows everything about Marc. But he won’t see me coming. My re-emergence in this body wasn’t in his master plan.”

“Neither was mine!”

Cash sighed heavily. “The last thing Jed—Alk—”

“Don’t say his name!” I said, cutting him off. “He’ll know we’re talking about him.”

“Good. He should know we’ve figured it out. We’ve already said it a few times, anyway.” A sharp, harsh laugh escaped him. “You know it was me saying that to you once, long ago: Don’t say his name. And you didn’t care. Looks like our roles are reversed.”

“What do you mean?”

He looked lost in thought for a moment, then refocused on me. “Just before the disaster that ended your experiment, all those years ago, I was lecturing you about your recalcitrant son. I was worried about his unstable behavior, and you told me there was nothing to worry about. You loved him, even then, despite his bratty attitude. You had faith that all he needed to get over his father’s death was some time on this planet, surrounded by the new marvels you’d created. I should have trusted my instincts, but instead, I let you placate me. I won’t let you go without me, Roo.”

I lost all energy and sidled up to him in the chair. I climbed on and slotted myself between his big body and the side of the plastic recliner. It was a snug fit and I ended up more on top of him than not. My hand curled around his middle. “Cash, I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t.” His big hand landed around my neck and he squeezed gently. “My soul was split into three. You brought me back together. You can keep me in one piece. I know you can.”

“I’m only beginning to understand the complexities of the in-between. What if your soul gets lost again? What then?”

“Then you’ll have to come and find me.”

Lena, Jesop, Jacine and Marc all entered at that point.

“You lovebirds want a minute?” Marc said.

I cleared my throat and slid onto the floor. A breath of silence passed. Cash rolled up his sleeve and presented his forearm to Jesop. “I’m ready.”

Chapter 35

After we vaccinated, we sat and waited a few minutes in case adverse effects presented. Cash, Marc and myself ended in the kitchen to wait out the time. I was still hungry, and wasn’t the only one. We hashed out our plan over scones and coffee—well, Marc had tea. We’d meet at Marc’s cabin, which was close enough to the gate that we could ride his bike and survey the situation before flashing into the thick of things. The risk that something happened on the teleport journey was too big to arrive dead on into battle. Plus the humidity meant Marc’s illusion-construct ability was glitchy, and who knew what mine would be like, so we all needed to clothe ourselves and he had supplies there.

Once we were done planning, we received one last check from Lena and made our way to the front courtyard. The icy cold bit into my face and drilled down to my bones—it would be a stark contrast to the stifling weather we were heading into. We didn’t bother dressing in warm clothing because it would all be left behind.

Cash was strong, he would survive this.

But maybe being strong has nothing to do with it. Maybe we weren’t as similar as I thought. That little doubt sitting on my shoulder wouldn’t shut up. Yes, Cash and I had been cut from the same cloth in these new bodies, and it had rescued both of us, but we were also different, and I remembered little of what made me so knowledgeable in the past. What if I wasn’t strong enough to contain him? I watched him stomp his feet, and blow on his hands to ward off the frostbite. Through his T-shirt and jeans, the angles of his lean body and musculature were the picture of perfect health. The perfect specimen to live a long, fruitful life. Unless I fucked up.

An ache twisted in my chest with the very real possibility of a life without him. I couldn’t accept that. I needed him with every buzzing molecule of my being. If he didn’t turn up on the other end of the ride… a lump formed in my throat.

“You ready?” Cash’s deep, masculine voice snapped me back to attention. He placed a steady palm on my shoulder. Under the overcast sky, his blue and brown eyes looked the same shade of gray. They were constantly changing color, but they were always filled with emotion when he looked at me. And now was no exception. I’d given so much of myself to him, and relied so much on his steady guidance, that I was afraid of who’d I’d become without him by my side.

“Stop it,” he said and dipped to catch my fallen gaze. “We’re doing this. It’s going to be fine.”

I made a string of stifled sounds and scrubbed my face, wanting to speak the reply that hung unsaid in the air, But what if it’s not?

Cash notched his finger under my chin and kissed me. White electricity zinged down our connection and I sank into him, melting in the cold air. He let me feel everything he was in a wave of emotion through his essence. It flowed into me, unfurling warmth like a hot drink. When his lips left mine, I felt bereft but better at the same time.

He shifted a stray hair from my face. “Just follow your instincts. Whatever happens, I know you’ll find me.”

I nodded and then glanced at Marc. “So, explain to me again what you did when you first took me through the in-between?”

Marc came to stand next to us, seemingly impervious to the cold. “Right, kids.” He placed a palm on both Cash and my shoulders. “I brought you in close, like this”—Marc drew us against his long body, like a hug—“Cozy, isn’t it?”

“And then?” Cash prompted gruffly.

“Right. And then I expanded my aura to fully contain both of us and made sure not to let go. Do you think I should carry all of us?”

“No,” Cash replied. “Lena said you’re too different than me. It has to be Roo.”

I took a deep breath. I could do this.

“Ah, Marc. You can let us go.” I raised a brow at his snug contact.

“Sorry, just enjoying the one and only three-way I’ll ever have with you two.” He sighed dramatically and stepped away.

I chuckled and even Cash gave a short laugh. It released the tension gripping our minds.

“Right, give it a go, love. Encompass him. I’ll watch to make sure you’re all over him, yeah?”

“How is it everything you say has a dirty double meaning?” I said.

“Me?” He looked shocked. “You're the one with the mind in the gutter.”

I released my energy from the confines of my body and let it flow around us. I’d never done this exact thing before, so it was all theory, and that’s what scared me. Just keep letting it out, coat Cash until he was as much a part of me as I was with him. Marc circled us with a wary eye, scrutinizing the air around us.

“Looks good to me,” he said, “but I can’t tell if the hunter’s aura is contained. It’s invisible. I can see his body is enveloped, but I’m afraid I don’t know how accurate that is.”

I exhaled sharply and my energy snapped back into me. “So we might be missing the mark? We can’t do this then. I’m sorry, Cash, but I’m not willing to risk your life on a maybe.”

“Blood,” Lena said, from behind us.

I twisted to find Jacine guiding Lena down the steps of the castle to meet us at the courtyard. When they reached our side, Lena elaborated. “Blood is your connection. You’re linked on a biological and metaphysical level that only you truly understand. You’re the one who made the soul-link in the first place, and even if you can’t remember it, you’ve got that instinct still inside you. It drives you every time you use your power. How have you linked with Cash in the past?” Lena asked.

“Well…” I thought for a moment. “We’ve done our mentor-progeny ritual via the blood bond. I also used a blood connection to pull Tommy’s soul into Cash… oh!” I gave Cash a coy look. “We kiss.”

Cash returned my look with a flick of the eyebrows.

“Well, that’s my suggestion,” Lena continued. “Connect with him, any which way you can, then make sure you hold onto him with every atom of your being.”

“Sure. Easy,” I murmured. “What can go wrong?” Only annihilation and entanglement of every particle in our bodies.

Jacine disengaged from Lena and crossed the short distance to Marc. She spoke quietly and I couldn’t hear her words, but their body language said enough. He gave her his full attention, and bent down when she reached up to cup his cheek. I averted my gaze to Cash who had a tiny smile quirking his lips. He’d heard what was said.

“Alright, then,” Marc called out to us. “I’ll see you at the cabin.”

With that, he vanished and all the particles of dust, construct, and sand that had collected on his body showered to the ground.

I stared at that small pile with foreboding.

“Let’s do this.” Cash took my hand in his.

Jacine and Lena retreated to the steps to watch us from a distance.

“Okay, hold your palm up,” I said and Cash showed me his hand. I used my power to slice both our hands and hold the wound open. Then we joined hands in a grownup version of a childish pact. “I want you with me until we arrive at our destination.”

“I want to be with you until we arrive at our destination.”

Then he enveloped me with his free arm, hand cupping my rear possessively, and laid his lips on mine. Without thinking further, I opened myself to our connection and willed us across the other side of the world.

Chapter 36

Just like every other time I traveled, I arrived in a blink of an eye. I knew I had come to our destination because humid heat slammed into my face, smothering my airways. Dawn peeked through the gaps in the forest leaves and cast the dense underbrush with dappled misty light. Monkeys whooped, insects chirped and birds cawed. But no Cash.

Time stood still as I took in my surroundings and the very obvious lack of warm body next to mine. He had to be here. He had to be.

“Cash!” I cried out, my voice echoed in the vast forest. Monkey’s screeched in response. I flailed around, moving ferns to see better at my feet.

Dirt.

It was all muddy dirt.

No.

All form and function left my mind and all I could think was that I’d lost him. My senses flared out to scan the area, but nothing. He was invisible. I forced myself to calm but couldn’t help my rising panic. Then, through the naked connection at my feet, the earth echoed my pain, and I almost lost my shit. Did that mean it knew? My eyes burned, my throat closed up. No. I had to be sure. I slammed my bare fist into the dirt to latch onto the metaphysical veins of the earth’s life-force. Life pulsed beneath and, like a magnetic reaction, was drawn to me, little worms of electricity snapping home to shoot power up my arm. “Find him,” I commanded, voice a thin rasp. Filaments of energy burst from my hand, symbiotically searching through the vast network of the forest for an echo of myself—Cash.

If he was here, I would find him. If he wasn’t here…

I felt it—a whispered response, a ping. Tension released in a sudden surge from my muscles, leaving me limp with relief. He was here, lying prone on the ground a few feet away. I wept. Sobbed. He was here. He was here. My legs weakened, and my strength failed as I allowed a moment to process. Then I was up, crashing through the ferns, plants and trees. Anything and everything in my way moved, either telekinetically, or out of some precognitive reaction, or perhaps I’d stepped through the in-between. I’d never know—only that I was simply there when before I was not.

“Cash.” I fell to my knees in front of him. He lay on his stomach, face down. Unmoving. I touched the skin on his bare back—warm. His neck—hot. “Hey, wake up.” I shook him. No movement. “C’mon, Cash. Wake up.”

I gripped his shoulders to roll him over. He was heavy. He was a mountain and I was the wind. But I didn’t give up. I pumped power into my arms and gave an almighty heave until his body turned to lie face up. Dirt covered his lax, chiseled features, and muddy debris plastered his naked body. Wet leaves, soggy sticks, and soil. I wiped grit from his mouth and then rested my palm, hovering over his airways. Breathing. Thank God. I fumbled against his neck to find the artery. Life rhythmically pulsed back at me. So why wasn’t he waking?

“Baby, I’m here,” I said and cupped his face. Hot tears dripped from my eyes to paint streaks on his dirty cheek. “We’ve got work to do. Wake up.” I kissed him gently on his soft lips, then sent sparks into my fingers and zapped him on the chest like a defibrillator. His body convulsed and arched upward. “Wake up!”

He groaned, hand coming to test his temple, tongue spitting more sand from his mouth.

“Oh thank God,” I cried and collapsed on him, clutching him hard with my trembling fingers. “Baby, you’re okay.”

“Baby?” he croaked. “That’s a new one.”

I coughed a laugh and pulled back to see his gorgeous eyes peel open. “I’m sorry. I know we don’t use words like that.”

“No, I like it.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think I just hit my head.” His fingers touched his temple and he winced, then he glanced down his body. “I’m naked.”

“Yep.”

“Also, I think something bit me.”

“Welcome to the jungle.”

Marc’s cabin was only a few minutes away, so we got walking.

“You need to learn how to do that clothing construct thing Marc does,” Cash glowered and ripped a fern off a passing plant to shield across his lower section.

I smirked back and tapped the hastily wrapped vines I’d commanded to grow around my body. “I’m happy with my living dress, thank you.”

“Yeah, well, a dress doesn’t exactly cut it for me.”

“I’m also happy with you just like that, too,” I teased, eyeing his powerful and sinuous form. His golden skin was still smudged with dirt, but it gave him a wild look that disheveled him in the most appealing way. “Besides, Marc’s illusion constructs don’t work so well here. We need to get real clothes. He said it’s something about the weather, but I don’t know. Could be more to it. We’re close to the gate, aren’t we?”

“Yes—shit.” Cash turned to me suddenly, eyes lighting up. He lowered his voice to a dangerous level. “Jed.”

“Here?” I hissed and pivoted to check my six. All these emotions I hadn’t faced yet knocked through me. He had been one of my closest friends. My mind whirled with my body as I surveyed the trees. The betrayal was starting to sink in.

“No, I meant he knew you were at this cabin recovering after the Urser incident. It’s possible he knows we’d come back here. We need to be careful.”

We crept through the edge of the forest to enter the clearing in front of Marc’s cabin. The same bungalow style structure greeted us, but this time, with the addition of the makeshift cabin Cash had built while I was sick. It was still only four roughly hewed walls, minus a roof.

I pushed my awareness into the area, but sensed only Marc. “I think we’re good.”

Cash cast a wary eye around and developed a glazed look that I knew meant he used his heightened senses to listen and smell anything out of the ordinary. He gave a curt nod. “I agree. We’re good.”

“We should probably clear that for Marc when this is all done.” I indicated to the makeshift structure.

“Couldn’t agree more, love,” Marc called out through the wire screen of the front door. He opened the door with a creak and stepped onto the porch. He was already dressed in a white cotton shirt and gray slacks and had a bundle of clothes in his arms. It wasn’t the playful Marc I was used to. This man had an abrupt vibe and irritation swam over his aura. “You’re late.”

“We only took a few minutes longer than you,” Cash said as he unashamedly dropped his leaf cover and slipped into a pair of sweat pants. “We’ve still got time. The last we heard, the army was a few hours from the gate. Most of my security teams were routed to assist the human authorities, but there is still one team in position near the gate, waiting for us.”

“You’ve got it all wrong.” Marc gaped at us. “It’s been hours. And it will take another hour to get to the gate on foot.”

By this time, I’d shed my vines and replaced them with a soft, gray linen blouse and cotton pants. “What do you mean, hours?”

“I mean, it’s called the in-between because time travels differently when you’re in it. Most of the time, here on earth, traveling is instant, but there are times when slipping through the dimensions can warp reality. If you’ve been hours, you’re lucky you arrived at all. Just another reason for not arriving bang on in the thick of the battle. It can be disorienting when your ETA is out.”

The close call brushed iced fingers down my spine and I locked eyes on Cash. I walked over to him to touch him. I had to make sure he was real. His face had gone hard. I grasped him around his firm shoulders and squeezed. The discord in his stormy eyes faded as he looked down at me. He bent down and briefly touched my lips with his. “We’re here, that’s all that matters.”

“The good news is that the rest of the Tribunal won’t be far away, but the bad news is that Urser has likely taken the gate. We won’t know until we get there.”

“Marc and you should teleport,” Cash said to me. “If they’re already there, they’ll hear the motorbike coming a mile away. I can run and be there in twenty. That way, I won’t turn up with you and will still have the element of surprise.”

Marc held out a hand to me. “Looks like our clothes are going to waste.”

“I can ask the earth to cover you too.”

As I placed my palm in his, he gave me a wolfish grin. “I’ll most likely be too busy to be concerned with clothes, love.”

“Pick off the darklings first,” Cash warned. “I know you want to save as many as you can, but no quarter, Roo. If it comes to a choice of your life or theirs, you choose yours.” It was all happening so fast. We were late. Urser was there. We’d have to—

Marc pulled me through the in-between.

Chapter 37

The cabin disappeared and we materialized in a forest with trees lifting so high we couldn’t see the sky. Green and brown trunks cast streaky dark shadows around us. A buzzing came from somewhere. A teeming of life up ahead. While I acclimatized to the new sensations, tendrils sprouted through the turned earth at my feet and clothed me. When it was done, I stepped forward, tracking the concentration of the buzz of life, through the thick forest. It must be a gathering of people. I pushed leaves, fronds and ferns aside until the gloom subsided and daylight burst in my eyes. I was pulled back so suddenly I almost fell backward.

“Careful, love.” Marc kept a sturdy hand on my shoulder. “Don’t know what’s down in that water.”

My heart leapt into my throat when I looked down and realized I’d narrowly missed falling to my death. The grassy platform we were on dropped suddenly to a rocky cliff sparsely covered with jungle underbrush. It went down for what seemed like miles until it hit a cascading, murky brown river. On the other side of the chasm, another jagged cliff rose with menace. I took a few steps back to safety.

“We’re here,” Marc whispered. He crouched to monitor our environment and nodded to our right. “And we weren’t the first.”

I followed his gaze to a rickety bridge made from rope suspended across the river and disappearing into mist. Resting against the two poles holding the weight of the bridge were two dead bodies. They’d been deliberately propped up so that they would be noticed. Soldiers. At least, I thought they were. Each had on a black military uniform that had been ripped to shreds, as was the flesh on their bloody faces and arms. Cut to ribbons, were the words that came to mind.

“Who do you think they are?” I asked.

“The hunter’s men. Must be. Look at that insignia.” He lifted a tattered patch with the tip of his finger.

Samson Investigations.

I sighed knowing the guilt Cash would feel when he discovered them. Through the gaps in the black fabric, I caught flesh colored with a star-map. They were Players. Definitely Cash’s men, then. Hopefully their souls were released to Purgatory. Insects buzzed around the bodies and the blood had coagulated. They’d been here a while.

A loud bird squawked nearby and more took to the skies in a burst of wings. On high alert, I let my sixth sense fly, scoping for the enemy and found auras everywhere. Little sparks of life echoed back at me, on this side of the bridge, and across the chasm. But the question was—friend or foe?

“You feel that, love?” Marc asked.

I raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“Their auras aren’t right,” Marc elaborated. “Focus.”

I concentrated a little more and used my whole body to listen. Yes, he was correct. The auras pinging back at me had a gritty taint. Could be darklings. Could even be familiars or witches. And across the swaying bridge, beyond the mist and the forest on the other side, I sensed the strongest signatures of all. Gods.

“How far away do you think Cash is?” I asked.

“He’s fast. A few minutes. Five, ten, tops.”

“We should probably wait, right?”

Before Marc could reply, a scream across the bridge curdled my blood.

“That’s the only way across, isn’t it?” I pointed down the bridge, stomach twisting into knots.

“Got it in one, love. The temple is over there.”

I eyed the bridge. “Surely this can’t possibly be safe. Why didn’t we teleport straight to the temple, or at least to the other side?”

“Been a while since I’ve been there and we don’t know what we’ll find. Popping in willy-nilly has its disadvantages, you know that—don’t ever forget it. Once, I teleported to this massive gathering of Simons at a music concert, and the in-between stole time. Was supposed to arrive before the crowd, but wound up smack bang in the middle of the concert. People around me got hurt. Anyway, don’t worry, the Incas were masters of engineering.” He gripped the railing on the bridge and shook. The bridge swung a little. “Sturdy as a ship. The temple ruins are just on the other side. Plus, if you fall, you can always teleport before you go splat in the water, yeah?”

There was that scream again. Female. Definitely. Something about it seemed familiar.

We had to get moving. Cash would have to catch up.

“Sturdy as a ship,” I murmured. The brown river was so far down. I gulped. “So the Incas built this? Are we going to have to deal with tourists as well as Urser?” All those auras I sensed—not all of them were gritty.

“No, love, this temple has been hidden from the likes of men. My cabin isn’t the only one around the jungle neighborhood. Since we had the Incas build the temple to hide the gate, we’ve rotated security duties amongst the Houses and kept it from being discovered for centuries. As far as the modern world is concerned, this is just jungle.”

“Good,” I said. “ Let’s go.”

“That’s my girl.” Marc took the lead and went onto the bridge. It swayed and moved with every step until he was half way. He flashed a grin over his shoulder. “You know this can hold an elephant? You can come on at the same time as me. It won’t break.”

I eyed off the rope with suspicion. Was that green and black residue jungle rot?

“Love, if you must, just teleport to the other side, but then you’ll have to wait to dress again.”

My dress would hold, but it wouldn’t last long.

“I’m coming.” I held my breath and stepped out. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. I kept my gaze firmly ahead and routinely put one foot in front of the other at a snail’s pace. Think of the scream. Someone needed help. All those auras. For crying out loud, I could do this. After all, I was about to walk into battle with a god who could wither life with his touch, and another who could… what could Jed do? He could push his dark soul out of his body and spy on people, but there must me more to him. People were afraid of the myth when they spoke about the prince who ruined the world. Maybe he was the one who controlled the darklings, and Urser was the enabler. Maybe Jed had been pulling the strings all along, I mean, he had to be pretty manipulative to masquerade as a friendly police officer all these years.

My rambling thoughts were enough to distract me until I got to the other side, safely on solid ground. I pushed my awareness forward, as though looking at a satellite heat map, and I honed in our targets with my mind’s eye. Not just head on, but all around us. Hiding. Waiting. But the strongest were beyond the next break of trees in the direction Marc said the temple ruins were. Had they noticed us?

A sense of doubt washed over me. If all of Cash’s backup was gone, then it was just us until the other gods arrived with Jacine. By our calculations, the in-between robbed us of half a day. Not entirely enough to allow for a plane ride from Europe, but closer. Could Marc, Cash and I be enough to handle the enemy? An answering gust of wind and tickle at my feet told me the earth was by my side. Lives depended on it. Grow a thick skin, Roo. Keep walking.

The mud, rocks and debris at our feet increased the further we walked into the hilly forest, down an overgrown path. Wary about the proximity of auras I felt coalescing around us, I failed to watch in front of me. I stumbled over the leg of a dead body sticking out from the bushes at the side. Another soldier. Sickness rolled in my gut as I surveyed ahead. Body after body littered the pathway. We were too late. Cash would be devastated—these were his men. Employees at his security business, human and Nephilim alike. The consequences for their deaths would be grave.

I glanced at Marc and recognized my own determination painted on his face. We would avenge this. We would seek justice. I armed myself with energy, felt power crackle at my fingertips and urged myself onward, after him through the mud.

Through it all I had the distinct feeling of foreboding. The energies around us knew we were here and they did nothing, just watched. Waited.

“No hesitation, love,” Marc whispered by my side. “Ready?”

Chapter 38

We emerged from the trees to a clearing. I glimpsed rocky Incan ruins covered in moss and exposed roots, and then we were besieged. A swarm of darklings came at us from all sides, but we’d been expecting them. My instincts snapped into motion and I threw power in a deadly arc that cleaved bodies in two. Guilt stabbed me in the chest, and I knew I shouldn’t, but I mourned the souls I destroyed, for each darkling death meant an end to their forever soul. For some stupid reason, I’d hoped I’d be able to help them. No time now. Marc winked out of existence and appeared besides another darkling with a hand gripped around its throat. A second later they were both gone. Marc appeared a few feet away, hands empty only to do the same with a third darkling. The fourth he shot fire at. The flaming body kept coming toward us, unperturbed, so Marc took him through the in-between.

The ruins loomed up high like a primitive pyramid, but it’s rocky walls had crumbled with age, and vines wrapped like a mummy’s shredded shroud. There was something beyond the dark gaping hole at its entrance. More gods, and a frequency that pulsed with unnatural energy. Could it be the gate, switched on?

As if looking at the empty entrance summoned attention, a small group of five or so came out of the doorway. They had virulent auras so were most likely Watchers teamed up with Urser. My suspicion was confirmed when I recognized a particular dark skinned woman and man—Ava’s parents from Epsilon House. Pontius and Octavia. Pontius wore his black Epsilon blazer, as though he still held onto the structure of the Game, but Octavia had foregone her Tribunal white and instead wore a khaki green pant suit. Both were among the first to sacrifice their progenies to the dark serum. They glared at me with animosity then cast a glance to Marc who stood to the right of me, fists clenching, muscles in his arms wreathing. Pontius and Octavia stayed on the steps. Behind them, Urser appeared.

“So nice of you to finally join us.” He sneered and left the group at the door to step down the temple stairs to another stony level. “To be honest, I expected you to be here a little earlier, I mean”—he squinted redundantly at the gray sky—“It’s just gone noon. But here you are. Just you and the Gamekeeper.” He laughed incredulously. “Against all of us. It’s like you’re not even trying.”

So he had no idea Cash was here. Good. At least that part was good. Mistaking my silence for doubt, he added, “Your hunter’s men are all gone. We considered adding them to our dark army, but as you can see, we’re quite overcrowded as it is.”

The auras hiding in the forest began to emerge. Some dressed in rags and were more monster than man. Some were clothed in a uniform as though Urser had raided an army surplus store. These seemed to have their wits about them and more like the Nephilim I’d purged in Margaret River. Whatever they were, whoever they were, they were many.

“You won’t get away with this,” Marc said simply.

“We already have,” came a voice behind me. There had been no aura there before. I whirled around.

Jed.

Like a ghost, he’d appeared behind us to block our exit. He was the face of someone so familiar yet he felt foreign. The notion forced me to question my beliefs. My brain struggled to put names to my rising emotions—this was my friend of more than three years. It was the same face tanned from the Australian sun, the same light dusting of freckles across the nose, and the same ears sticking out from under dark auburn curls. But, no, in this shadowed light, the auburn was now black. Another illusion. Perhaps it had always been black and I’d been a fool.

“Why are you doing this, Jed?” I asked, desperation and hope leeching into my voice. My friends were the one constant I had in this world. And he had broken that idea, shattered it to pieces.

“You know that’s not my name, mother.”

“It’s the only name I’ve known for you.”

“Not true.” He cocked his head to the side studying me. “Alkiemon, Al, Son. Take your pick.”

I couldn’t answer. Just stared.

“You may have lost your memories,” he continued, “but you are the same person inside. You murdered my father and then you created this world instead of dealing with your grieving son. You might run from your problems, but I don’t. Well, it’s time to go home, mother. Time to face the music.”

“You little twat,” Marc said. “It was never Sephie’s fault. Your father was a warmonger from Ursa Constellation, just like his brother. Treachery was bound to catch up with him. For all we know your bloody uncle there killed his brother.”

“If you believe that, then you’re as much as fool as her,” Urser added.

I gasped. “I would never have killed my husband, no matter how much we didn’t get along.”

Jed laughed. “How would you know? I watched you for years as a failing human. Your stupidity and dumb faith were insufferable. Now you are only a shadow of your former self. You used to be a force to be reckoned with. A match for the strategic marriage you were sold into. Oh, I know you hated my father. You tolerated him so long as you were free to execute your own egomaniacal plans to create a world in your image. I mean, how narcissistic can you get?”

“I’m sorry, Jed. I truly am. I can’t speak for that woman I used to be, but I can speak for myself now, and I would never leave a loved one to suffer. Never.”

“Guess I wasn’t one of your loved ones then.”

“You miss the point. You are now. You have been for years. There’s still time to walk away from Urser. We can start again.”

A moment of silence passed between us, and he stared right into my eyes, into my soul. I almost thought I had him, but he laughed. “Start again? How many times must you start over before you get it right? My father was a powerful and ruthless leader—he did what was needed to make the Empire great, first time round. He took what he wanted.”

“And look what happened to him,” I added.

Jed scowled. “You came along and turned it all to shit. Lucky for me, I take after my father.” Jed looked over my shoulder to Urser. “Bring them out.”

There was nothing I could do or say that would ease the malice in his eyes. Perhaps I caused him a lot of pain, but I wouldn’t let him murder more innocents to prove his point. I had to protect this world as best I could. That I knew I could do. Or I could die trying.

Slowly, I formed directives in my mind and filtered them into the earth. A rumble came from beneath us that gathered momentum. I intended to use nature to secure any Watcher or darkling on nearby soil, so I let the vines grow, hidden beneath the earth, writhing like snakes, ready for deployment. They might not hold them forever, but they would give us a fighting chance to escape. I almost released but a merciless, keening wail stopped me. Coldness swept over me and I paused—kept the vines hidden, swimming beneath the surface. It was the same female scream from earlier, amplified. It echoed all around, and I couldn’t tell where it originated.

Jed took up a station at the bottom of the steps and smugly folded his arms. Why did he leave his post blocking the exit? Unless… unless he knew there was no way I’d leave now.

“Roo!” A female voice squeezed out from behind him. I whipped my gaze up to see the last people I expected to find in the Amazon. Kitty and Alvin were being shoved down the moss covered temple steps by a single curved pole brutally piercing both their shoulders. They wore dirty clothes covered in blood. The same clothes they wore the last time I’d seen them in Margaret River. Then, they were the perfect picture of domestic life. Now, they limped, pale faced and distraught, barely standing through the agony I knew would be radiating from their bloody shackle. My eyes met with theirs and a multitude of words passed unsaid. The person holding the bar between them jerked them forward to the final grassy landing at the foot of the steps. Kitty wailed. The rod diameter wasn’t huge, so I had hopes it missed vital organs. If one of them moved, the other bled. The coldness in my veins turned to pure, hot fury. It was more than hostage detainment. It was torture.

“Stop!” I shouted. “Leave them alone.” But shout was all I could do. Vines would be too slow. Telekinesis too sloppy. I could miss my enemy and hurt my friends, make it worse… Options flailed in my mind. My fault. This was my fault. Friends weren’t a strength. They were a weakness. To me, and to them. I should never have taken the darkling bait and traveled to Margaret River to ensure their safety. It was a big target on their head. Now they knew I’d do anything to save my friends. Stupid. I was so stupid and inexperienced. Jed knew exactly how much I cared for them. I should have stayed away.

Urser preened from his position up high. His companions did too. My gaze darted between them and Jed and my friends at the foot of the steps.

“What do you want from me?” I asked Jed. “My blood? Let them go and you can take it.”

“No, love.” Alarm widened Marc’s eyes. “No one is worth it.”

I ignored him. I just needed Kitty and Alvin closer, then I could use the vines or hardened air to shield us from them. Sure, they’d find a way to break through, they were gods. But by that time, we’d be back over the bridge and Cash wouldn’t be far. “I’m serious. Let them go. You can take me.”

I left Marc to step forward and show my commitment.

Jed laughed and shook his head with scorn. “You’re so easy, it’s almost no fun. I spent my life here on this filthy rotten planet, dreaming up ways to knock you from your high horse, and now look at you. Pathetic. Weak. Once we realized it was you in that body, it’s been no effort to put our plans into place. You’ve fallen for our lies each and every time.”

“Because she has a kind soul that you’ll never understand,” Kitty spoke up, voice cracking, skin pale.

“Jed, I don’t understand. We were friends. I know some of our time was genuine. Don’t do this. Please. Kitty and Alvin were your friends too.”

“Put the collar on and we will let them go,” Jed said. “You have my word.”

The collar?

“No deal,” Marc said. “Your word means nothing, Prince. Let the humans go and I will make it quick. Can’t say the same for the rest of you.”

“Give it up, Roo.” Urser called from the top of the steps in a bored voice. “I’m out of patience. End this before you hurt your friends. You’re clearly outnumbered.”

He was right. There may not have been anyone immediately behind me, but I felt grimy darkling essences everywhere. Deep in the temple ruins, waiting with Urser. In the forest around us, milling about. Even further back, across the chasm and on the other side. So many blips of life pinging back at me.

And then… oddly, one by one, I sensed them wink out of existence. Goosebumps erupted on my flesh while I tried to make sense of that. First, the life-forms across the bridge, then, closer, the auras surrounding us in the forest—they disappeared.

Cash was here.

He wouldn’t go unnoticed for long. Soon, he’d bring his deluge of vengeance to the army. There would be no hiding him.

It was enough to spur me forward. “Fine. Bring me the collar.”

“No, love. I can’t accept this.” Marc put a hand on my shoulder.

“It will be okay, Marc.” I implored him with my eyes. Come on. Use your other sense, Marc. Cash is coming. “We will all get through this.”

But Marc only had eyes for Octavia as she came down the steps with a collar dangling from her hand. The instant her boots touched the soil, the earth was ready to claim her. I held off. It was a hard lesson to learn, but acting without thought would have repercussions. Instead, I surveyed the contraption in her hand. It was an exact replica of the one I wore after my transformation to Seraphim. The same collar that blocked my access to my power. Jed must have leaked the information. Octavia held it out as she closed the gap between us. She opened the collar and brought it near my neck. Marc instantly flashed to her. A blink. That’s all it took and then Octavia was gone, her clothes fluttered in tatters, and the collar clattered to the floor.

Marc was back at my side, giving daggers to the Watchers. “Approach her again, I dare you.”

Pontius howled from his post near the temple door. White snakes of light burst up both his arms—lightning. Electricity was bad where Marc was concerned. It disrupted his atoms and stopped him from teleporting. Pontius threw himself down the steps. I thought he would launch at us, but he went for Kitty and Alvin.

It was then Cash emerged from the forest and, without mercy, cut through the remaining darkling army. A sword of fire in each hand, he whirled, stabbed, sliced. Stepped over bodies. Amputated. Surged. He was so fast that he was a blur. My eyes could barely keep up with him.

When the rest of the Watchers understood what happened, Urser shouted down, pointing at me. “Get her.”

Pontius, already armed with electricity changed his momentum to charge around Jed and aim my way, ready to unleash. Marc dematerialized from my side to Pontius’s and grappled to shift his aim. The bolt redirected into Jed’s body to fill him with light. His veins became pulsing strobes and he crumpled to the ground. Shock registered on Pontius’s face as he looked down at Jed’s charred body. And then Pontius was no more—ripped through space and time. Marc reappeared at the foot of the steps and urged Kitty and Alvin toward me.

This was my chance. I let the restrained power beneath me erupt. Mountains of vines speared toward the sky. They spread in an explosive arc around the perimeter of the temple like a wall of weeds, thickening—a giant beanstalk come to life. I caught a last glimpse of Urser’s furious face as he hurtled down the steps. The shield wouldn’t last long. I could already feel the earth’s pain as Urser attacked with his decaying power.

Cash was suddenly at my side, hot palm bracing the back of my neck, looking deep into my eyes. “You okay?”

I gave a curt nod and he let go to cast a critical eye over the scene. “We have to get Kitty and Alvin to safety. The vines won’t hold.”

“I know,” I said, stepping toward Kitty and Alvin. “Urser’s destroying the wall already. I can strengthen the shield with hardened air, or keep feeding more power into the plants.”

“No time.” Cash beat me to our friends. He took Kitty gently into his arms and held her steady then met my eyes. “Roo, cut the pipe.”

I gripped the bar between Kitty and Alvin and fed power into the metal structure, focusing like a laser. Heat bloomed under my touch until it sparked, melted and eventually separated.

Kitty slumped forward, and Cash caught her. Alvin tried to help, but stumbled, almost falling.

“Let Cash take her, Alvin. Marc, help me take Alvin.” I lifted the arm on his good side and helped Marc adjust himself underneath.

A screech overhead drew our attention.

“Holy cheese on a stick,” I said. “They’re climbing over the top!”

Up there, high on the wall of vines, a darkling skimmed his way over the structure.

“Go!” I screamed and we ran.

Chapter 39

We ran as fast as we could through the uneven jungle, slipping and sliding on the sticks and mud. Cash cradled Kitty in his arms. Marc and I shouldered Alvin, one on each side. Every few seconds I sent an arc of power behind us, just to make sure. If it hit anything, I never knew.

We got to the bridge and Cash put Kitty down, but she swayed on her feet.

“You have to carry her, Cash. She won’t make it across by herself,” I said.

In his eyes I saw a battle. He knew what was coming and he didn’t want to leave my side.

“I can flash out of here. You can’t. I’ll be right behind you.”

He grit his teeth, scooped Kitty up and tentatively made his way across. Alvin followed shortly after, but the bridge creaked under the weight. I knew Marc said it could hold an Elephant, but I think he was being overzealous.

Horrible, snarling and snapping sounds made me whirl to check my rear. The skies darkened and the light mist of rain grew thicker, more ominous. Light was fading faster than nature allowed. Something supernatural was happening. Full of twisting energy, the fog stirred my insides. The darklings weren’t the worst thing coming after us.

“Marc. Look.” I pointed into the black cloud.

Marc turned to see. “It’s the prince.”

“I thought you killed him with the lightning.”

He gave me a disparaging look. “Gods don’t die that easily.”

“Shit.” I glanced back across the bridge at Alvin crossing as fast as he could. He kept a brisk pace despite the sway of the rope. “Might be a good time to start thinking of plan B.”

“Go, love. Help your friend. I’ll hold the bastard off.” Marc’s hand gripped my shoulder, his face in front of mine. In that moment I saw so much more than the cheeky god who wasn’t responsible enough to be in the War Council. I saw his plan in his eyes, his sacrifice. He’d always regretted the first time he ran from the fight—that first time he took me as the queen away from this planet. The time Cash had died. The time I became a recluse. Now he was going to do the opposite.

“No, Marc.” I choked, shaking my head. “That’s not what I meant. Another plan B. Teleport to the Empire and tell them to be ready. Marc!”

The black cloud breeched the forest and Marc shoved me back toward the bridge. He turned to stand head to head with the darkness rolling in. I could see him, but I couldn’t distinguish his aura from the black fog enveloping him. He flashed a last look over his shoulder. “Go!” he shouted, moments before he was swallowed by the bloom.

I gasped, frozen in place.

Marc!

He was okay, he had to be. I stupidly took two steps forward then jolted backward as hands emerged out of the fog, reaching for me. Urser. A scream bubbled in my lungs as the rest of him materialized. He snapped the collar around my neck, essentially cutting me from my power. I felt as deprived of life as I did when I was collared all those other times. No energy sparking in my periphery, no fizz of electricity. But plenty of fear. Human and vulnerable.

Still willing to fight.

I slammed the heel of my palm into his nose. His head whipped back, bloody, and I pivoted, running to the bridge. I launched onto it, over the void, knuckles white as the rope I held. I had to get to Cash. Torrents cascaded beneath me, roaring. A gust of wind pelted my side and I was sure I felt water spray my face. Impossible to have come from so far below. Must be the sky. The coming rain. Or the dark misty clouds. Oh God, Marc.

I glanced up to see Cash hand Kitty to someone on the other side. Alvin was almost there. Squinting, I could see the other gods—the Tribunal. Relief surged through me. Backup had arrived. We would be okay. Another gust of wind from behind and I moved so fast my hands burned on the rope. But then… something under my hands darkened. The rope. It turned black. A jolt of fear sliced through me. “What the hell?” I looked down at the roped rungs beneath my feet. The blackness whizzed ahead to coat the white bridge in jagged increments, all the way to the end. The twine under my fingers plucked and frayed as though jungle rot ate the fabric from the inside. I craned behind and my heart stopped.

Urser crouched with his hands on the bottom walkway of the bridge, rot and decay bleeding from his touch. He shook the bridge, injecting more of his power into it. It creaked, it moaned and it made tiny plucking sounds as the rope disintegrated.

And I was on it.

I weighed my options. I couldn’t teleport—the collar blocked me. It was a long way down. The way to Cash was further than the way to Urser. And Alvin was still on the bridge.

Urser saw me calculating and shouted above the wind: “Keep going and you all fall. Come back, and you live.”

“Let him get off first.” I stared him down with fury. “Then you can take me.”

He glared at me. Then he let go of one hand, palm raised in surrender and the rot stopped on that side. The bridge held it together. Barely. Until the weight of another body tested its strength.

Cash.

Alvin was still a few feet from getting off, but Cash had returned to the bridge and squished past Alvin. The he came toward me with inhuman speed.

A growl ripped from Urser’s throat and he plunged his hand onto the fibers again, sending a new wave of decay. I felt a shift in the air as the bridge crumbled and snapped, the tension dissolving. Without thinking, I ran back the way I’d come and dove at Urser, tackling him to the grassy ground. He was harder than I expected. The wind knocked out of me as my smaller, powerless body rebounded off his and I rolled. Urser moved. Fast. He scrambled back to the bridge in a vain attempt to touch the rope, to finish what he started. In the end he didn’t need to.

Cash’s weight was enough.

A loud snap sounded.

I rushed to Urser’s side and caught the blur of Cash’s body—a dark falling star.

My scream was cut short as two rough hands ripped into my hair, pulling me backward onto the grassy plateau. I tried to grasp my head, to stop my hair ripping from my scalp, but couldn’t.

“You’re coming with me,” Urser growled. He didn’t wait for me to get up. He pulled by my hair. My legs grappled with the ground to keep up, and I struggled, writhed, fought to get back to Cash. Pain exploded behind my eyes and my vision failed. Urser hit me again, this time sending my sight completely black. I should have stayed on the bridge. Maybe I could’ve taken the collar off in time. Maybe I could have saved him.

When I came to, I was being carried over Urser’s shoulder, my head and torso hung over his back, arms dangling. The black mist had retreated. There was carnage everywhere. Blood. Smears. Body parts. But no Marc. No Cash. And no back up. The broken bridge had seen to that.

When I closed my eyes, I saw the shadow of Cash’s body, falling in slow motion. The image replayed, stuck on repeat. Questions bombarded my mind. Had he enough distance to jump the rest of the way? No. Had he somehow managed to cling to the rope and swing to one side? I had no idea. Could he survive the fall? Tears burned my eyes. I had to shut it from my mind. I had to get away. I surreptitiously fiddled with the collar and was rewarded with a tiny electric shock that jolted through me.

I quickly closed my eyes and played dead when the sound of crunching steps got closer. Someone else was here. We walked for a little more, until the light dimmed, and I noticed the drip of water. The hollow, dank smell of musty air. A breeze fanning my cheeks through the jostling. The temperature dropping. I would have shivered inside the dank, stone temple except I felt nothing. Numb. Not even when Jed approached from somewhere and took me from Urser’s punishing grip.

“She’s awake,” Jed said.

Fuck.

He dragged me off Urser. I kicked and lashed out, but my blows were ineffectual without my power feeding into my hands. I was weak. Human. Jed took me through the dark corridors to an enormous room that opened to high ceilings. Light came through holes above in rays of dust. Mold soured the walls. Invasive vines grew through gaps in the damp and glistening, rocky enclosure. Instruments of modern technology contrasted with the ancient ruins. The equipment reminded me of the inside of a computer.

And then I saw it. The gate. Made from an obsidian like substance, the slick doorframe screamed foreign. In front of the large doorframe sat a stone podium with wires shooting out of it, reminiscent of the woody roots on the ceiling. I’d never in my life seen anything like it. The monolith structure was surely the star-gate they all spoke of—the wormhole that opened a portal between worlds.

Urser left us to check on a stack of large, black cargo crates and then greet the remaining traitorous Watchers as they entered the room. He was bringing more than darklings back to the Empire. Those crates were numerous. More serums? More destruction? How could those people let him do this? It was their world he threatened.

“Where’s Marc?” I asked Jed. “Is he alive?”

Jed hit me in the head and I blacked out again.

* * *

When I woke, he was in the process of unceremoniously yanking me to the podium near the gate where he slammed my wrist against the smooth tablet top. He strapped my hand down, then pulled a knife and stabbed my palm, welding it to the surface. White hot agony sliced up my arm, but I didn’t scream. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Blood oozed onto the podium tablet and filtered to a catchment where it drained into the device. Jed watched as red liquid oozed from my veins, eventually slowing when I healed.

And he watched. Everyone watched. And waited. Something was supposed to happen, but the tablet and podium beneath my hand remained lifeless. The obsidian doorway remained dormant.

Jed gave a sidelong glance to Urser. “It’s not working. You said it would work.”

Urser glanced nervously at the Watchers and then came over in a few quick strides. He lowered his voice. “You’re the one who said she’d fully converted.”

They acted in a hurry. Nervous. Which meant perhaps they knew someone was coming. Perhaps the other gods found a way across the chasm. Or, Marc. I gasped. Cash? Who else would they be afraid of?

Hope flared in my chest.

“She has converted,” Jed hissed. “Maybe we need more blood.”

He twisted the knife in my palm until the pain caused spots to dance across my vision and I finally screamed. But whatever they expected from the gate didn’t happen.

“I know why it’s not working,” I gasped.

“Bullshit. You remember nothing.”

“Who is left alive?” I asked. “Of my friends. Tell me and I might help you.”

Urser narrowed his eyes at me. I had a good, hard look at him. Lines creased around his eyes. Short, military styled hair not so neat anymore. Stubble peppering his chin. He wasn’t as collected as he led me to believe.

I continued pushing. “I know you have someone prisoner, or perhaps someone is coming. You’re nervous. You’re rushing. Making mistakes.”

Jed shook his head. “Don’t tell her.”

“You have me where you want me,” I pleaded. “Tell me if my friends are alive and I’ll tell you why the gate isn’t working.”

“You’re in no position to bargain.”

“I need the collar off,” I blurted. “It’s not just my blood, but my life-force needed. The collar disrupts my full biological-connection. It means you need all of me. Soul and all.”

Urser cursed. “That’s why it never worked with a sample. Thaw him halfway, then bring him out.”

“No,” Jed replied. “Take the collar off and I’ll make her open the gate. We don’t need him.”

“You fool. She can travel through the in-between. Just like you. Take the collar off and without incentive, she’s gone.”

“Fuck.” Jed punched a nearby crate. When he turned to face me, the area around Jed’s lips turned white. A withering stare and he stormed out of the room. Minutes later he was back.

With Cash.

Chapter 40

Cash was wet, through and through. He hugged himself and rubbed his arms briskly. Almost rags by now, his thin clothing was covered in filth and blood from his recent battles, and whatever he did to survive the fall. His thick lashes lifted to reveal eyes reflecting the magnitude of emotion I felt.

“You’re alive,” I said.

“Lucky for him your water gods were quick to respond,” Urser said. “Unlucky for him they put him right in Jed’s path.”

“Marc’s alive,” Cash said quickly. “He escaped.”

When I caught the quick pass of frustration between Urser and Jed, I knew Cash’s words were true. Cash opened his mouth to say something else, but Jed struck him across the cheek. Cash’s head whipped to the side. When he turned back to Jed, his lethal gaze promised death. Jed must have seen the same thing because he hit Cash again. Black blood spurted out of Cash’s mouth to splat on the rubble. That shouldn’t be black. A dark stain painted his lips. I thought it was blue from the cold, but, no. The serum? But we’re vaccinated. Cash sucked a rattling breath in and coughed uncontrollably. He fell on one knee, casting his face into a stream of light filtering from the ceiling somewhere.

The horror of his pale skin hit me.

“What have you done?” I glared at Jed, then at Urser.

“Nothing that can’t be reversed.” Urser came to stand next to me. He waved back at Jed. “Thaw him some more.”

Thaw him? So not the serum. Something else. Or… someone else.

Black dots pebbled on Jed’s forearm until they ran rivulets down to his hand. Mist formed and broke away to float in front of Cash’s face.

Cash’s eyes widened and he jerked back, but the mist collided with his skin. A painful sound ripped from the back of Cash’s throat.

“Stop!” I shouted, and winced when my jerk tugged at my hand, still pinned to the tablet by the knife.

“Relax. I’m extracting it.” Jed rolled his eyes at me. Blackness swam out of Cash’s mouth and returned to Jed. Cash relaxed, the color returned to his lips. “I don’t know why you’re so against this,” Jed continued. “I am what he made me. He should experience it firsthand. When he exploded that day, all those years ago, he tried to break me apart, but the darkness in my veins kept me together. I was nothing but mist and energy for such a long time. It hurts me to be in that form as much as it hurts someone to feel it against their skin. Even worse inside. I have no chance of a normal life now. I’ll never have an ordinary relationship.”

“You did this to yourself,” Cash growled. “You were the one who defied your mother in the first place. The fact I had trouble with your death stroke is a regret I will always carry.”

“And now look where we are,” Jed sneered.

“Enough,” Urser said and reached for my collar. “When I remove this, you are going to open the gate. You are going to let us all pass through and you are going to stay in case the gate closes before we have all left.”

“Then you will let us go?” I couldn’t believe it.

“What do I care what you do once we are gone? We will destroy the gate on the other end. We have what we want. We don’t need this useless planet so far away from everything else. Once the gate is destroyed, it will take hundreds, if not thousands of light-years to get here by conventional methods.” Urser passed a scathing look over me. “I wanted you out of the Empire and off the throne. Now you are. Mission complete.”

Mission?

Slowly pieces of the puzzle came together.

“You once told me the Seraphim are a very patient race. Now I see what you mean,” I said as the pieces came together.

“There’s my clever girl. Not so stupid after all.”

“No. I’m not.” On both accounts. Not his, and not stupid.

“What does he mean?” Cash asked.

“It was his plan all along,” I replied. “All these millennia we thought he was trapped by the queen’s quarantine, but… he planned it that way. Marc told me once that time passes differently over there. A couple of weeks pass here and only a couple of days there. The Ursa Constellation dignitaries were against the queen’s peace project from the start. Getting me off the throne was the true purpose of his being here.”

What I didn’t say was there were two advantages to the difference in the passage of time between the worlds. He could afford to spend more time here, planting the seeds of his plan, while the Empire carried along, not missing their dignitaries too much. That was also the appeal of the Game.

“Good. Now that’s cleared up, open the gate.” Urser unclasped my collar and life surged back into me. Like a cold drink on a hot day, I felt replenished. It wasn’t as much as if I were outside in nature, but enough I could feel each individual life-force around me.

I hesitated.

“Roo,” Cash rasped and caught my eyes. “Don’t. I love you, but don’t. This was never our plan.”

He knew things that I didn’t. He remembered the world I was opening a door to and he didn’t think I understood. But I did. It was time I embraced my true identity. I had to trust in the laws of the universe, and trust my friends on the other side had taken my message to the authorities. Like Urser said, I wasn’t as stupid as he thought and I knew Cash would get that if he gave me a chance.

“You’re right,” I said. “This wasn’t the original plan, but it’s okay, Cash. We’ve done our job. We played the Game. We followed the rules. We sent as many souls as we could to the Empire. It’s up to them, now.”

I hoped he read between the lines. I winced and twisted the blade in my hand until blood flowed fresh to coat the tablet in red. Dizziness clouded my vision for a moment, then a roaring sound came from the doorframe and the emptiness between it became a solid wall of colored, granular light. Like the mist near a waterfall—it was blinding. Everyone in the room thought so too, their gazes squinted into the sight.

But I knew what was coming. I’d hoped. Thinking quick, I pulled the knife from my hand, and ran across the stones to Cash. Jed shoved him my way so he could get past us to the gate. I collided with Cash, both of us falling to our knees.

“Are you okay?” I held him.

“I’m fine.” He coughed then lowered his voice. “Let’s get out of the way before they come.”

I smiled. He knew.

Urser barked orders and the Watchers in the room leapt into action. They went to the crates, picking them up, angling themselves in the tight space to cross to the portal.

Then the light flickered at the doorway as though the current was being interrupted. Jed moved to stand in front of it, caution etched on his face. He leapt to the side, just in time as body shape broke the light filaments and people walked through the door. Not people. Soldiers.

A team of them. All tall, dark, wearing smooth helmets that hid their faces. Their one-piece suits were made of something seamless and futuristic. I didn’t need to guess where they came from. They hustled into the room and fanned out in military formation. They had no discernible weapons, but held their gloved palms face out in a menacing way. An enormous soldier in a light suit came in after them. His shoulder width was the size of two people. He surveyed the room with a robotic, almost casual turn of the head. Then he dropped a silver orb the size of a baseball on the floor.

It rolled until it hit Urser’s feet.

Urser glared at me in accusation. He roared in defiance and the ground shook as he used his power to rock the foundations. Dust and rocks crumbled from the ceiling. Jed’s face contorted into vengeance and his arms beaded with black residue. A burst of light emitted from the ball on the floor, and then…

Nothing.

Chapter 41

Mud. Water dripping. Birds cawing. Monkeys chittering. These things I heard so I knew I was outside. Caution prickled my skin, along with a soft tickle of the wind. It smelled fresh, not moldy like inside the temple. I sent a tentative probe of energy below ground. Yes. Outside. The energy in the earth beneath me purred, as though suddenly coming aware of my lucidity. I opened my eyes slowly and discovered I was at the foot of the temple, laying on a soft blanket of all things. The fading sun cast orange and purple clouds. It was almost night time. Which meant I had been out of it for an hour or two.

“She’s awake.” A voice I recognized sent a happy feeling spreading through me.

“Marc!” I croaked, dry mouthed.

A few feet away from me, Marc stood at the foot of the temple steps speaking with a small group of people. He wore similar clothing to the soldiers. It looked foreign and wrong in the jungle. A seamless shirt that was almost the same shade of gray as the pants molded to his legs. Seeing the silver starburst brooch on his chest sparked a memory. Images of soldiers coming through the gate flashed before me. In helmets with visors closed over their faces. They all had the silver brooch. The orb one of them dropped was sliver. And then at the end, just as the orb exploded, I caught Marc striding through the rainbow gate. He’d been wearing those clothes when he’d walked through.

Marc came over to me with a smile. “Looks like plan B worked.”

“Who are those people?” I asked, tension coating my insides.

“They’re your subjects.”

I glanced over his shoulder to the group trying not to look at me. “Right.”

The giant soldier with the lighter uniform had his helmet retracted to reveal a face with a crooked nose. He had strong carved features and intelligent eyes that held a twinkle of mischief. He appeared middle aged but, with Seraphim, it was hard to tell. Next to him stood an extraordinarily beautiful woman with long black hair and olive skin. Her cryptic smile made me nervous. She knew me. A trio of soldiers came down the temple steps, helmets retracted to reveal serious faces. Jacine, also in the group, appeared to be giving directions. When she glanced at me, she wore the first genuine smile I think I’d ever seen on her.

“Where’s Cash?” I asked Marc hesitantly.

“He’s with Lena over there. Had some more of that vile stuff in his lungs.”

I followed the direction he pointed and relief thumped my heart. Cash sat on another blanket and did his best to put up with Lena’s hands hovering around his chest. He glanced at me in a way that suggested he’d been checking every other minute because when he caught me awake, he swiped Lena’s hand impatiently and then turned back to her with an apologetic face, indicating my way. He made to move, but Lena stopped him with her index finger in the air. A soldier held a device in front of Cash as though scanning him.

“Is he okay?” I asked Marc.

“Right as rain.”

“What happened to Urser and Jed?”

He scratched his head. “I don’t know what to say except it’s all been taken care of. They’ve returned to the Empire… and, well, I wouldn’t want to be them.”

I shivered. “Did they devolve?”

“You could say that.”

“Is Jed okay?” I couldn’t help asking. Part of me will probably always worry about him.

“He’ll live. He’s basically human now, but he’ll live.”

I exhaled. “And, the darklings? I should go and fix them.”

“Love, help arrived. Your work is done.”

That concept was so foreign I couldn’t focus on him for a moment. Then the urge to get to my feet superseded all else. I had to see Cash, to touch him, to make sure he was real. I still saw him falling from the bridge every time my eyes closed. Within seconds I was at his side.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, hesitant to touch him and interrupt Lena’s work.

“I’m fine.” He gave the soldier with the device a scathing look. “Lena’s just being thorough.”

Lena tilted her head my way. “Good to see you are up. Those Mind Frags can be disorientating.”

“Mind Frag?”

The soldier, a thin man with a long face rattled off a scientific explanation, most of which I missed, until he gave me the abridged version. “The silver ball that gave off the light. It’s designed to momentarily wipe the mind of all people who see it. Unless you’re wearing a helmet, of course.”

Marc came up behind me and cleared his throat.

The soldier saw him and widened his eyes. “Sir?”

Sir?

“You are in the presence of the queen. Address her appropriately.”

The solder looked back at me and realization dawned on him. His cheeks flushed beet red. “Apologies Your Majesty, I didn’t recognize you.”

I grimaced at Marc. He was one to talk about appropriate behavior. Jacine said those same words to him all the time.

Lena pulled her hands from Cash. “I think the taint is leaving on its own. Your body is taking care of the healing.”

“Thank you,” Cash mumbled and got to his feet.

“Kitty and Alvin?”

“Treated and back at the bungalow, resting,” Marc replied.

“The baby?”

Lena smiled at me gently. “The baby is fine.” She caught my worried look and then added: “On both accounts, she is fine. Jesop told me about your concerns, so we checked her for an active hex. We found none, but I flushed her system with a cleansing tonic just to be sure.”

I sighed in relief. Instantly Cash gathered me into his arms. I melted against his warm, hard chest as he crushed me in his embrace. He pushed me away momentarily to check me over, then, satisfied, pressed his lips to mine in a deep, passionate kiss that had his emotions slamming into me so fast my mind wiped again.

“Wow,” I said when he finished. “What was that for?”

“I love you. That’s all.”

I blushed. “I feel the same.”

Marc cleared his throat behind us. “Hate to interrupt, but time for you to meet some people.”

He took a look at my tattered vine dress and scooped up the blanket to drape around my shoulders then scrutinized my face. He licked his thumb and wiped my cheek as though he were a mother cleaning a child.

“Stop that.” I swatted him and then hugged the blanket close.

“Sorry, it’s just that—” He paused. “I’ve spoken about you a lot. This new you, I mean. It still might be a shock for some people, so… prepare yourself.”

“Great,” I mumbled under my breath. Cash put his arm around my shoulder. The weight comforted me as Marc led us to the group at the foot of the steps.

Upon seeing me, all soldiers with retracted helmets bent on one knee reverently. The black haired woman did too. Jacine hesitated a moment, then joined them on the grass.

“Please get up,” I said, eyes wide.

The large soldier with the lighter uniform looked up at me through his short lashes, the glint of humor still there. Then his face split into a grin. He stood and helped the black-haired lady next to him up. They were all smiling.

“Have I missed something?” I asked, darting a glance between them all. Even Marc smirked at me.

“You don’t recognize us,” the black-haired woman stated, then squinted as though trying to decipher me. “Take a closer look.”

A test, then? I stepped back and focused on their energy. The man… was familiar. Yes, her too. I knew them, but their auras were powerful. I would remember meeting gods like them. Unless, they weren’t… “I know you, but you’ve changed. You were both Players?”

The man grinned. “If I could turn this uniform inside out, you might recognize me better.”

I gasped. “Lincoln?”

“Yo, sis.” The teenager lingo sounded so foreign from the burly man, but… that cheeky glint in his eye.

Despite looking like he could crush me, I rushed him for a hug. His enormous arms surrounded me and lifted me off the ground. The other soldiers in the group looked at us oddly. This mustn’t be proper protocol for royalty, but, “Dude, check out your guns. You weren’t kidding when you said you had a feeling you should be bigger.”

The woman slanted an amused look at him.

“Oh my God, then this must be”—I looked at her closely—“Wren?”

She nodded demurely.

“You’re both not what I expected.”

Lincoln, or whoever he was now, smiled. “And now that our memories are unlocked, we can see you are not who you used to be as well. There is much we need to discuss.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.”

He didn’t answer the questioning lilt in my voice. “Let me formally introduce myself. I am Barzillai of Ursa Constellation and Commander of the United Peace-Keeping forces. This is Keturah of Cetus Constellation—Keturah, are you alright? What’s happening to her? Keturah?”

“Stop saying her true name you blabbering idiot,” Marc scoffed. “We use pseudonyms here.”

Wren—Keturah had folded forward to brace herself on her knees, breathing deeply through the shudders and tingles riding her nerves. Lincoln—Barzillai, rushed to her aid, but she swatted him away, and placed the back of her palm to her forehead. “That was… interesting.”

“True name?” Barzillai appeared confused then shot Marc an accusing look. “Why didn’t this happen when I said my own name?”

“Only happens when you speak another’s, like in prayer.”

“This is the Seraphim phenomenon you’ve been bragging about? Doesn’t look that great to me—”

“Barzillai,” Marc said smugly.

The enormous soldier grunted, cursed and squeezed his eyes shut, tensely holding onto his decorum as the euphoric sensation rippled through him.

Marc burst out laughing. He whooped loudly and slapped his knee, then punched Jacine lightly on the shoulder as if she’d appreciate his joke. She fought a smile. The three soldiers just looked at us like we’d grown extra heads.

“I think I will call you Lincoln while we are on this earth.” Keturah still retained a blush in her cheeks, and patted her soldier’s arm. “Perhaps refrain from saying my true name while we are here. I can be Wren, one last time.”

“Boring,” Marc said with a wink Jacine’s way. “The true name is half the fun of this planet.”

Lincoln took on a deadly serious scowl and individually pinned each of us with his stare. “Why didn’t I remember this from the Game?”

Marc shrugged. “You were a Player. We don’t share much with Players in case you go running back to your friends when you get home to the Empire. She’s fine, relax.”

I cleared my throat. “I appreciate you coming here, but it’s getting dark. We should probably get home.”

“Good idea,” Barzillai said and made a sweeping motion up the steps. “After you. We can debrief when we get back. Ursa Constellation is regretful that one of our own has caused this drama. He has no honor and we wish to begin making reparations.”

I balked and looked back the other way. “I meant maybe get to the bungalow, or something.”

Barzillai stared at me. “But… the minute we woke in our natural bodies, we remembered your last message to us. Ket—ahem—Wren and I found each other and petitioned the Council to put together a team in case the gate was reactivated. When Egna—ahem, sorry, I’ll get this right—Marc turned up with the news of your son’s plan we were able to put it all into action. We assumed because you told Marc to come here, it was all over now and you’d return with us.”

Hearing about Jed, a spear of guilt hit me. After everything today, I still felt like I’d lost somehow.

“Where are Jed and Urser now?” Cash asked.

“We’ve taken them into custody and off planet. All of their belongings have been taken into evidence. They will be tried and punished accordingly, although I dare say their devolvement is almost punishment enough. Your Majesty, you are required to give testament. We’ve been instructed to bring everyone back to the Empire and then destroy the gate, thus leaving the humans to their own devices.”

“Great. Just one small detail.” I caught Cash’s eyes to makes sure he felt the same way. He smiled, so I said to Barzillai, “You leave us behind.”

Cash nodded. “I think we’re done with the Empire.”

“For now, anyway,” I added quickly. “I’m no good to Jed like this. I want to help clean up the mess he and Urser left behind. Marc can always come back and take us at a later date. Maybe. Plus…” I sent a slice of sympathy into the earth at my feet and an echo bounced back at me. I hadn’t forgotten my promise to help undo the devastation of mankind. “I have work to do here.”

“So do I,” Cash added. When I gave him a questioning eye, hoping he didn’t mean following me around, but he replied, “Witches.”

“Of course,” I said.

“But…” Marc started then stopped. We all watched him while he contemplated.

“Marc,” I said. “You’re free. You can do what you want now. No more Gamekeeper.”

“That’s the thing, love. I’m not sure I know what I want. I’ve fallen in love with this world and its people. The football, the cricket, tea… the—” he cut himself off and glanced at Jacine. “You’re ready to go to the Empire, aren’t you?”

She fretted. “I-yes, I wanted to go home, but… darling, are you going?”

“Pet, are you going?”

“I asked you first.”

“No, you asked me second.”

“Marc,” I said abruptly. “Don’t stay on my behalf. I’d love you to visit any time, but Jacine can’t travel like you. She either has to stay or go.”

Marc placed his palm on Jacine’s shoulder. “Then it’s settled. We’ll go. You and the hunter stay.”

“I’m not sure if it’s as easy as that,” Barzillai said.

Cash almost growled. “We’re doing you the courtesy of telling you our plans. If you want to go against us, you’ll have to take us by force.”

Barzillai’s mouth tightened and he glared at Cash. “That can be arranged.”

Keturah put a hand on Barzillai’s arm. “Can we not say that the gate was destroyed prior to retrieving all that remained? It will buy us some time, at least.”

“Please Barz—I mean Lincoln?” I whined.

From the way his lips twitched, he tried to suppress a smile. After a moment, he conceded with a short nod. “Fine. The gate was destroyed before we could safely return all Seraphim bodies to port. Those who are left behind will be marked as non-returning souls and we will make provisions without them.” He paused and met my eyes. “It will be sad to lose the chance to get to know this new version of you better. You would have done great things.”

“She has already done great things,” Cash corrected him. “It’s been too long since we’ve been there. Too much has happened. It’s time for a break.”

“You will be missed,” Keturah agreed. “But, I understand. There is much to do here. I can hear the animals calling. I am tempted to stay, too, but”—she caught Barzillai’s eye—“I am now needed elsewhere. Not all of us are blessed with a clean slate.”

Cash and I looked at each other. Clean slate.

* * *

Eight Months Later

“He looks nervous.” Cash leaned over to speak in my ear. He nodded at Alvin who stood at the front of the open shed on a makeshift podium surrounded by extravagant sculptures of vines and flowers. On both sides of him, the vines twirled upward to meet up the top in an arch, sprinkling them with falling Star Jasmine, red Kangaroo Paw and other native flora. Having a friend who could commune with nature made for excellent wedding flower arrangements. The warm spring breeze drifted through every so often, ruffling the decorative arrangement bringing the scent of the flowers and freshly cut grass down to the rest of us sitting in pews. With a swell of pride, I eyed the bountiful green vineyard and blue skies beyond the podium.

We were back at the Urser Estate in Margaret River and for the past few months had been busy bringing the vineyard back to life and readying it for this event. Still in my name, the Estate was the perfect place to settle while we all recovered from our Amazon ordeal. With a bit of hard work, some elbow grease, and a little sneaky help from my abilities, we got the grounds and vines flourishing with ripe grapes. We had been back to the States a few times to visit his family, and to help Cash’s hunting business recover from the soldiers he’d lost. Witches were still around, but we were making headway tracking them down. I had high hopes they’d be eradicated completely in a few years and had also been in talks with the United Nations to loosen the strict protocols against women. I’d also taken that opportunity to start work as an environmental ambassador. I know, very grownup of me.

Another grownup thing was that I knew I’d have to deal with Jed eventually. His loss had affected me more than I wanted to admit. Despite his proclamations that there was no saving us, I couldn’t give up on him. One day I’d return. We hadn’t heard a peep from our friends across the Milky Way, and that’s how we liked it. For now, anyway.

Especially on this important day.

Alvin cut a handsome groom in his charcoal suit and slicked black hair. Next to him, a priest in a robe waited patiently with his fingers interlocked in front of him. Next to me, my husband wore something a lot less formal, a white shirt with the collar open. His short blond hair was styled impeccably, and his stubble had been trimmed to perfection. He’d also cut a handsome groom when we got married ourselves a few months ago. Our ceremony hadn’t been as extravagant as this. We’d just wanted to formalize our union as quick as we could and it ended up being us, a few witnesses (a.k.a. Kitty and Alvin) and Cash’s family in the States.

I glanced at Cash and remembered him looking just as nervous as Alvin. Probably why he’d made the comment just now; He’d remembered how it felt to be waiting for the bride. Yes, Alvin looked anxious. Perhaps a little more so than expected. He was head-over-heels in love with Kitty but, after waiting months for their bodies to heal from injuries, and for Kitty to have the baby, they were eager and ready for this new chapter in their lives—as were we all.

“Well, they’ve been through a lot,” I said to Cash and lightly tickled the chubby infant cradled in my arms. “Isn’t that right, little one?” I made a soft cooing sound. “Mommy and Daddy have been through a lot. They deserve the best wedding the world has seen and Aunty Roo and Uncle Cash are going to make sure they never, ever have to deal with bad people again.”

“What happened to your voice?” Cash asked, looking at me oddly but with the ghost of a smile on his face.

“I’m making baby talk. That's how people talk to babies.”

“Why would people talk differently to babies? They don’t understand words yet.”

He was completely serious.

“Here.” I held out the little swaddled package to him.

Out of instinct, he shifted to take the baby, despite the horror widening his eyes. “But what do I do?”

“Just hold him. I want to take another photo for the wall in the Manor.”

“But…” He leaned down and sniffed the baby’s head. “Smells… innocent.”

I grinned. Seeing the big, lethal man holding something so precious with a soft, reverent touch brought a tear to my eye. I took a photograph with my phone.

He gave me a sideways smirk. “That wall is fast running out of room.”

I grinned back. “I have a lot of catching up to do.”

“I meant”—he scrunched his nose in an adorable way to rub against the baby’s nose—“you need to save room for our child.”

My hand fell to my stomach and rubbed the small, hard swell. He was right. We’d need plenty more room if we were going to capture the long, happy future we planned, starting with the little guy growing inside me. When I looked up, Cash was staring at me with glistening eyes full of affection. He shifted the baby to the crook of one arm, and reached out to cover my hand on my stomach with his warm, larger one.

Then the Wedding March came on and everyone turned to face the rear of the heavily decorated and artfully rustic shed. The small crowd hushed and all eyes were locked on the stunning beauty walking down the aisle in a wedding dress that clung to her curves and fanned out at her feet. In the end, we’d decided babysitting duties trumped Maid of Honor, and I was completely okay with that.

A collective sigh whispered across the room. Kitty was breathtaking. Her blue and green hair had been artfully swept in finger waves to the side and tied at the nape of her neck in a bun. Apart from the colored hair, she looked like she stepped straight out of a silver screen movie. She got to where we sat and gave me a red lipped grin, then made a little finger wave to her baby and continued her way to the podium. Alvin helped her up the small step and they turned to face the priest.

I took another photograph with my phone.

We had all been through a lot, but as I watched Cash smile down at the bundle of new life in his arms, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. Here was life in its purest form. Simple. Honest. Innocent. This was what it was all about.

—THE END—

Thank you for reading this final installation in the Game of Gods series. This is my first series and I hold it close to my heart. If you liked the book, please spare a minute or two to write an honest review on Amazon or Goodreads. Reviews are how other readers make informed buying decisions, and I need your help for that.

I’m now busy writing the next series. Follow me on social media, or at my website lanapecherczyk.com.

Thank you so much for taking this journey with me!

Lana

Xx

Also by Lana Pecherczyk

The Deadly Seven

(Paranormal/Sci-Fi Romance)

Sinner

(Origins Novella)

Envy

Greed

(Coming Soon)

Game of Gods

(Urban Fantasy )

Soul Thing

The Devil Inside

Playing God

Game Over

Robin Lockslay

(Action Romantic Comedy)

Robin Lockslay

Game of Gods Glossary

Curse:

When a witch casts a hex that cannot be reversed.

* * *

Darklings:

Beings (either human or Nephilim) who have been infected with a poison similar to Original Sin and have become rabid beasts.

* * *

The Empire:

The intergalactic group of constellations ruled over by the Queen.

* * *

Familiar:

A witch who hasn’t advanced to possessing human bodies yet, only animals

* * *

The Game:

Gods from another planet download their souls into half-human, half-god bodies (Nephilim or demi-gods) and race to see who can make the most positive change in the world, without revealing their abilities to humans before they die. When they die, their souls are returned to their godly bodies and the mysterious laws of the universe govern whether they’ve played the game well and receive a boost in evolution (new powers) or devolve (lose powers).

* * *

Gamekeeper:

A.k.a. Marc. True name is Egnatius. As the Gamekeeper he is responsible for keeping all Players and Watchers in line. Also known as the God of the In-between.

* * *

Hex:

When a witch uses her own DNA which has been loaded with a directive to alter the DNA of a victim. A hex can only be transferred by biological means. Usually sliver, blood or other body fluid.

* * *

House, Ursa:

The constellation where Bruce Urser originates. Also the Constellation where the king came from. This house has been known as a brutal war planet. It’s motto is: Victoria Aut Mors (Victory or Death). The bear is its emblem.

* * *

House, Epsilon:

Octavia and Pontius are the heads of House Epsilon. Their motto is: Non Loqui Sed Facere (No talk but action.)

* * *

House, Eridanus:

Led by Thurstan & Cato Eridanus. They have water powers and Cato has been likened to the god Poseidon. Their motto is: Semper Virilis (Always Virile.) Their emblem is flowing water.

* * *

House, Aldebaran:

The meat heads of the Ludus. Their motto is Citius, Altius, Fortius (Faster, higher, stronger). Their emblem is the bull. Most of this house have super strength.

* * *

House, Corvus:

Led by the blind healer Lena. Her progeny is Jesop, the alchemist. Their motto is Corvus Oculum Corvi Non Eruit (A crow will not pull out the eye of another crow). Their emblem is the crow. This house is dedicated to healing.

* * *

House, Cetus:

Mathieson is the head of Cetus. The motto is Scientia Potentia Est (Knowledge is Power). Their emblem is the Kraken. Most members of this house usually are very clever or have a way of knowing how things work.

* * *

House, Draco:

A little known House. Motto unknown. Leader is Zebedee. Emblem is a dragon. Most of this house has some sort of fire ability.

* * *

House, Lyra:

Lyra House has the motto: Astra Inclinant Sed Non Obligant (The stars incline us, they do not bind us). Most of Lyra house are Sirens.

* * *

House, Vernalis:

Leader of this House is Jacine (other wise known as Aphrodite). Their motto is: Amor Vincit Omnia (Love conquers all). Their emblem is two fish entwining.

* * *

In-Between:

The term used for the void Marc travels through when he teleports to another place. Sometimes time moves differently here and he can emerge having lost hours or days.

* * *

The Ludus:

The underground education facilities the gods use to educate trainees. It is also neutral territory so the Game isn’t actually played on site

* * *

Nephilim:

Half-human, half-god body for the sole purpose of inhabitation of a godly soul to play the Game on Earth.

* * *

Player:

An intergalactic god/Seraphim who has downloaded their soul into a Nephilim body for the purposes of playing the game on Earth. Players have no memory of their life beyond this planet, but they retain the memories of their time on Earth once they have returned to the Empire.

* * *

Star-Map:

The tattoo like marking present on all Player bodies that points to their godly soul’s point of origin in the cosmos.

* * *

Seraphim:

An immortal being from the other side of the galaxy.

* * *

Witch:

An evil, twisted spirit who can possess the body of a human, and pilot the body as they wish until they burn through the host and have to seek out another. Witches can manipulate cosmic energy, including understanding the frequencies the human body works with, making it easy for them to control the human body consciously the way our body works subconsciously. Witches can only possess female bodies.

* * *

Seraphim:

An immortal humanoid race with god-like abilities from the Empire.

About the Author

OMG! How do you say my name?

Lana (straight forward enough - Lah-nah) Pecherczyk (this is where it gets tricky - Pe-her-chick).

I’ve been called Lana Price-Check, Lana Pera-Chickywack, Lana Pressed-Chicken, Lana Pech…that girl! You name it, they said it. So if it’s so hard to spell, why on earth would I use this name instead of an easy pen name?

To put it simply, it belonged to my mother. And she was my dream champion.

For most of my life, I’ve been good at one thing – art. The world around me saw my work, and said I should do more of it, so I did.

But when at the age of eight, I said I wanted to write stories, and even though we were poor, my mother came home with a blank notebook and a pencil saying I should follow my dreams, no matter where they take me for they will make me happy. I wasn’t very good at it, but it didn’t matter because I had her support and I liked it.

She died when I was thirteen, and left her four daughters orphaned. Suddenly, I had lost my dream champion, I was split from my youngest two sisters and had no one to talk to about the challenge of life.

So, I  wrote in secret. I poured my heart out daily to a diary and sometimes imagined that she would listen. At the end of the day, even if she couldn’t hear, writing kept that dream alive.

Eventually, after having my own children (two firecrackers in the guise of little boys) and ignoring my inner voice for too long, I decided to lead by example. How could I teach my children to follow their dreams if I wasn’t? I became my own dream champion and the rest is history, here I am.

When I’m not writing the next great action-packed romantic novel, or wrangling the rug rats, or rescuing GI Joe from the jaws of my Kelpie, I fight evil by moonlight, win love by daylight and never run from a real fight.

Come find me and let’s chat!

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Sample of Envy

Chapter 1

He woke in a strange place.

Thick, pungent air dragged into his lungs from the darkness. His head pounded and his body ached to the point of pain. Soft and lumpy beneath him. Hard and cold at his sides. When he fumbled around, his movement stirred the rancid odor. He knew exactly where he was.

Dumpster.

And if he’d hidden in a Dumpster, he most likely wore his combat uniform—a quick pat down his leather pants and tug on his hood confirmed that. His hands came away sticky, and when he touched his thumb to his forefinger, the tackiness remained. He held it to his nose and sniffed. Sweet, metallic, thick: Blood.

But whose?

And, how did he get here?

Before panic set roots in his chest, he thought to himself: Evan Lazarus. Your name is Evan Lazarus. You fight the deadly sin envy. You save people.

Sometimes.

Maybe.

He must have done something terrible… something worth hiding from. And rather than call for help, he’d hidden, because, why would the Deadly Seven help him? They were only his family.

Evan moved to lift the lid on the Dumpster, but a pain pierced his torso. The sensation brought memories of the previous night flashing in a dizzying torrent. Multiple pairs of hands forced him down. Fists slammed into his eye sockets and cheekbones. Blinding pain. Swollen vision. Boots pounded into his abdomen. Air wheezed from his lungs. A crow bar to his ribs, jaw, knees. He’d bucked hard, but they’d ruthlessly pinned him down, driving his limbs wider until pain screamed in his joints, leaving his torso vulnerable to more violence… then he’d yielded and smiled and laughed. Because he’d deserved it.

Evan scrubbed his face with his hand to wipe the memory, but the words of his assailant came hurtling back: “If you’re looking for validation, kid, you’re in the wrong place. You should have thrown the fight like we told you to.” Then the lights had gone out.

Evan laid in the dark Dumpster, eyes closed, acutely aware of every ache and stab of pain in his body. They’d left him for dead.

But he wasn’t dead.

Well, he couldn’t stay there forever.

Taking a chance he pushed the lid open and let it crash against the wall. Sweet, crisp air burned his lungs and he almost choked on the freshness. Dawn peeked over the tall grungey cityscape, casting the alley walls into stark chiaroscuro. Any other day he might have been awed enough to paint the atmospheric sight, but today his mood was murky and heavy like the sky.

It would rain soon and, dammit, his fighting leathers chafed when wet. At least he’d left his weapons at home before he’d allowed himself to be a boxing bag at the fight ring the night before.

He searched for a plastic bag in the Dumpster then crawled out and peeled his jacket and mouth scarf off, leaving him in a used-to-be-white T-shirt and blood-stained leather pants.

Suddenly, the air rippled to his right, lighting his senses on fire. His arm shot out in time for a projectile to hit his palm, fingers snapping shut over the object within. A baseball. From… he pushed his awareness out, searching for envy. There. To the right. The sense of deadly sin trickled toward him, wriggling in his gut like grimy feathered fingers, sparking an intense hunger to search and destroy. This supernatural sixth sense was something all his siblings had, except each sensed a different sin. If they didn’t chase down the worst of sinners and eliminate or contain, then the sense would drive them insane.

Perhaps it already had.

There were a lot of sinners in Cardinal City.

A lot of envy.

He forced his urge to fight down. This particular sense of envy was small. Tiny. Not worth his time.

Children. Two of them.

Shit.

They might have seen him get out of his battle gear.

“Hey, nice catch, mister. Wish I was that good.” A dirty little leaguer trotted over. Grime on his cheeks. Dirt on the cuffs of his jeans. Holes in his sneakers.

“Hey yourself, kid.” Evan stuffed his jacket and scarf into the plastic bag, hiding evidence of his secret. “Go home. It’s early.”

So early. Or late. He couldn’t decide. His dry throat begged for a drink. And an aspirin. Also a shower and then sleep and the sweet oblivion it brought. Josie would have to manage opening the tattoo shop on her own, his bed called to him.

Light flashed from the alley exit a few meters away as early morning commuters began their assault on the city. Evan turned in the opposite direction, intending to find a dark spot so he could hit the rooftops and trail the dying shadows home.

Fire-escape up ahead. Perfect.

As he walked, he blindly lobbed the ball over his shoulder. A cry of amazement proved he hit his mark as the kid caught it in his glove.

Envy from the children spiked three-fold, echoing in Evan’s gut, and they ran after him, asking for an autograph.

Double shit.

“Why would you want an autograph?” he asked, testing the waters.

“Because you’re one of them!”

Evan fisted his plastic bag. He paused. Turned.

The second boy was pale with wide blue eyes. Dark hair stuck up in the middle of his crown in a natural Mohawk or one hell of a cow-lick. Freckles hid behind his grubby cheeks. The first boy swam in an oversized Yankees jersey. Taller and similar facial structure to the second. Must be brothers. Yankee boy clutched the ball in his hand.

“One of who?” Evan asked.

“You know, the Deadly Seven.” The smallest boy jumped around him like an eager grasshopper, spiky hair bouncing.

“You got the wrong idea, kid.”

The eldest shot him a withering stare. “We’re not stupid. Or blind—”

“Yeah, blind,” chimed in the youngest.

“We saw you take your jacket off. The jacket.” He wiggled his brows and eyed the plastic bag in Evan’s hands.

Evan groaned and then took a deep breath while he decided how to handle them. Fuck it. They were only kids. Who would believe them? “Probably not a good idea. I’m not very popular at the moment.”

“That’s okay, Mr. Deadly sir, I like you.”

Those three little words stabbed Evan in the heart.

“Well, that makes one of us.” He continued to stroll toward the fire escape.

“C’mon, please?” The children jogged backwards in front of him, holding out the ball. “It will only take a minute. Wow. Is that blood? Did you catch some baddies?”

Only himself.

Evan stopped under the escape ladder and sighed. He shouldn’t be talking with them, but it was nice to have anyone—even a couple of runts—have faith.

“Can you sign my baseball? Please.”

The Yankees kid smiled and threw his ball high above, intending to catch it in his glove to show off, but the round projectile hit the fire-escape instead. A loud clang sounded and the rusty retractable ladder dropped.

“Look out!” Evan shouted.

He shoved the boy out of the way only to have the broken ladder impale his own shoulder. He landed heavily on his knees and tried to breathe through the crippling agony, except the ladder pushed down and he was already drained and sore from the night before.

He heaved.

Pain splintered in his shoulder and black dots danced before his eyes. He almost lost sight.

He could do this. Especially in front of the kids. Fuck the night before. Screw the injuries he still recovered from. C’mon, Evan. Do this.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he gathered focus, and breathed through the fog until ready. Gripping tight, he lifted the lance from his flesh. A wet, tearing sound made him cringe, but he heaved out of harm’s way. Pain splintered the back of his head as he hit the brick wall, crumbling mortar and rock. A fresh wave of nausea rolled through him.

Perfect. He couldn’t even save himself.

The sound of a small boy’s voice broke through his agony. “Mason, he don’t look so good.”

“Yeah. Mr. Deadly, sir, are you okay?”

That was debatable. He tried to laugh, but a strangled sound came out.

You wouldn’t see his siblings in this situation.

Evan flared his eyes to focus through the blur. He bit his lip and held his wrist in front of his face to view the Yin-Yang tattoo. The bio-indicated ink itched like a motherfucker and was almost black. Fuck balance. It was all a lie.

“Mr. Deadly, sir?”

“Stop calling me sir.” Evan ground his teeth. “Leave. I’ll take care of myself.”

“But, you guys saved my friend once,” the older kid said. “After the bombing. She… she was stuck under a wall and you… you got her out. She can help you. She’s a doctor. She helps everyone. C’mon, Mr. Deadly, sir. You need to get up.” The boy’s little hands grasped onto Evan’s big arms and yanked but to no avail. “Mason, call an ambulance.”

“No,” Evan tried to say, but it came out a grunt. He didn’t need the hospital, just few minutes and his special body would take care of the rest. If only he could tell them that, but the boy already sounded further away. Evan was slipping, head swimming, walls fading. Tiny footsteps echoed. A siren wailed. The alley blurred, becoming as black as his temper, and everything faded.

Chapter 2

“Extra! Extra! Two years since Cardinal Bombing! New leads could find perpetrators.”

Grace Go stopped in her tracks as the newspaper boy’s powerful voice carried across the busy sidewalk and bustling morning crowd. Someone bumped into her from behind and cursed at her. She cast a hasty apology over her shoulder and forced her feet to move out of the crushing horde’s way. Being an emergency physician gave her exceptional acting skills and emotional control. The trick was to detach yourself from the world. Disconnect from the emotion of the trauma. Spend your life busy and avoid focusing on your own miseries. Like the letter she crumpled into her bag and its headline, written in bold: Notice of Case Closure.

She had fourteen days to come up with the goods on the arsonist of the bombing that killed her parents, and forty-nine other innocent souls. It was the only way she’d get justice for the people left homeless and destitute and maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to put her parents to rest.

A twisted feeling churned in her stomach as the words new leads bounced around her head. She closed her eyes to center herself and shivered. A brisk rub of her scarred forearms barely warmed her, because the coldness in the pit of her stomach wasn’t elemental, it was guilt. She’d survived. Her parents had died. It should never have happened.

Another bump on the shoulder as someone rushed past.

“Sorry,” she said without looking up, and clutched her bag tight.

Street sounds amplified. Tires roared on the wet street, and the heavy footsteps of human traffic became a stampede. The repetitive clinking of loose change in a homeless man’s cup rattled her spine. Her head felt light. Dizzy. Must be low blood pressure. She’d had only four hours sleep last night, too busy scouring the internet for the identity of the mystery woman she’d seen at the bombing, but she did that every night. Why would it matter today?

Because it’s been two years, dummy. Two years since her parents got sick of coming second to her crazy work hours. Two years since they decided to buy an apartment close to her own. Two years since she’d heard her father’s guffaw of a laugh, and her mother’s sweet, soft voice. Grace squeezed the tears from her eyes and resolved to deal with the pain like every other time. Squash it deep down and keep busy.

An arctic breeze wafted the paperboy’s voice back across the street again. “… New leads bring us…”

Her heart stopped—new leads—and started beating again. Remembering what it was that halted her the first time, her foot left the sidewalk to cross, but a horn blared a warning and she jumped backwards with a gasp, narrowly missing the fender of a pickup truck as it tore down the street. Water sprayed onto the path, bathing her black jeans in cold.

A man cursed out the window and flipped her the bird, his voice quickly swallowed by the cacophony of city life once again.

Grace tried again. This time, she checked carefully both ways, then rushed to the other side where the grubby newsboy smiled back at her as she drew near. He stood next to a stack of folded papers and an upturned baseball cap for money.

“Hey Taco.” Grace smiled and held up a coin.

Taco grinned and handed her a folded newspaper. “Hey Miss. Grace. Boy am I glad to see you.”

“I always love seeing you, Taco.” The cold pit in her stomach returned when she remembered the letter in her bag. It would affect Taco and his younger brother. She scanned the front page of the newspaper. “New leads, huh?”

He shrugged, unconcerned as only a child would be. “Wasn’t them.”

Then Taco gave her shifty eyes and checked over his shoulder. His mouth opened like he wanted to say something, but there were too many people around and he shut it again.

Odd, Grace thought. She hoped he was okay. She’d had a soft spot for Taco and his younger brother since the bombing. Most of their family perished in the explosion except for a single aunt who was pulled from the wreckage, much like Grace. Grace had found them an apartment in her own building, but even being rent controlled, it was hard for the woman to manage. Better to stay a minute and see if Taco was okay.

“I agree. It can’t be them. I don’t think they’ve been sighted around town for months. Probably given up or gone missing,” Grace elaborated.

“Nah… just waiting.”

“For what?”

“Someone to believe in them.”

“Yeah, I know, buddy,” she said with a sigh, and resisted the urge to ruffle his hair. It was flattened on the top, most likely from the cap he’d removed to collect payment. “It would be nice to have something to believe in, wouldn’t it?”

“I mean it, Grace. They didn’t do it.”

“You’re preaching to the choir.” She’d been touting the same words since the bombing. During the first month the police had humored her and listened to her wild stories. She’d told anyone and everyone about the strange people she saw dressed in white robes and masks. Except, the CCTV footage showed only the Deadly Seven lurking suspiciously before the bomb went off. Looking back now, no wonder they thought she suffered post-traumatic stress. The things she saw sounded crazy. She still had trouble organizing the events in her head. Better to avoid the subject in public, and tackle it at home because either someone doctored the video footage, or she really was insane.

“You watch the game last night, Taco?”

“Sure did. We won!”

“Didn’t Cardinal City lose?”

“Nah, nobody goes for Cardinal these days. They’re at the bottom of the ladder. Miss. Grace…” Taco hushed his tone and ushered her closer. “I really need to tell you something.”

The poor boy was busting to tell her something. It looked like he needed to pee.

Grace dipped her head, close enough to hear the wheeze in Taco’s lungs as he took a breath. Sounded congested. Way too much fluid in there.

“We found someone in the alley this morning,” Taco said. “Took him to the hospital for you. And get this, he was… well. You need to talk to him.”

Grace’s brows lifted. Another homeless person for her to rescue? While her heart warmed at the altruistic innocence of those boys, they flirted with danger. “Have you been out before sunrise again? You know the neighborhood’s not safe, Taco.”

“It wasn’t too early.”

“Taco!” Grace shook him gently by the shoulders. “It’s dangerous. Do you hear me? Never go out at night again. Promise me.” The desperation made her voice tight. The things she’d seen in Emergency on night shift still gave her nightmares. The streets were filled with stupid and violent people, they were certainly no place for children.

“Okay, okay.”

“Say it.”

“Fine. We won’t go out at dark again.”

“Even for a few minutes before the sun comes up.”

“Yeah, okay.” Taco coughed.

“Good. And that wheeze doesn’t sound good. How long have you had that?”

“Yeah but—”

A shadow smashed past the two of them at an alarming speed, scooping up Grace’s bag, tugging it roughly from her shoulder. She almost lost her arm as the bag tore free. The cry of surprise barely left her lips before the crowd swallowed the thief again.

“Damn it!” Grace desperately tracked the path the thief had gone.

“You want me to chase him Miss. Grace?” Taco’s words caught on some phlegm and he coughed into his fingerless gloved hands.

She shook off the irritation of having her bag stolen. No use chasing him down. He was too fast, and she was already late. Muggings were a dime a dozen in Cardinal City, hence why she never carried valuables. “No, that’s okay. There wasn’t much in the bag, anyway. You’ve got work to do and, besides, like I said, that cough doesn’t sound good. Come and see me at the clinic tomorrow, okay? Promise? I’d better go.”

Grace gave a hasty wave and then plunged back into the horde, barely hearing Taco’s protest. She had to stop encouraging his self-proclaimed mission to clean up the streets. Cardinal City was a lost cause.

Big rain drops started to fall, and she flicked out her newspaper to shield herself, rushing until she arrived at the hospital a few blocks away.

By the time she walked through the emergency entrance, she’d mentally catalogued the items she’d lost in her bag. She rarely brought her wallet to work because she had an account at the cafeteria. Only her phone was in the bag and it was a cheap burner she’d picked up recently when her old cell had died.

That left the letter.

Grace pushed through the emergency entrance and into the waiting room with her game face on. Her heart wrenched at the sound of babies crying, people coughing and groaning. As heartbreaking as it sounded in there, the free clinic was worse, and the reason she worked there two days a week. Those poor people needed medical assistance, and the busy environment was music to her empty soul. When she went through the triage bay door, she paused to gather herself. Hospital smells assaulted her nose: disinfectant; plastic; bleach. It all infused her lungs with an odd sense of rightness. This was where she belonged.

This was who she was.

And she was good at her job.

Grace moved into the secure area and passed the exam bays. All beds were full, and all curtains were drawn. A man laid on a gurney in the hallway, sleeping on his side. He looked stable, so Grace assumed he was where he was meant to be for the moment.

A curtain to Grace’s right opened and closed, and Doctor Raseem Patel stepped out. Grace and Raseem interned together years ago but lost contact when she deferred from surgery after the bombing. He wore scrubs, a beaded necklace, and his long dark hair was tied back into a bun at his nape. Despite being a modern, young and hip doctor (his words, not Grace’s), Raseem took his job at the hospital seriously, and followed the rules to a T.

“What on earth are you doing here, Grace?” Raseem’s thick dark brows rose. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re here but… aren’t you a few hours early? I just checked the roster.”

Grace bit her lip. Out of everyone, he’d probably send her home. “I know. Thought I could be some help.”

“We’ll always need help, especially in the ER, but… walk with me.” His tone sounded ominous.

Grace followed him to the rotation board where he stood staring, hands on hips.

A yellow square with an affirmation in Grace’s handwriting was stuck next to each of the surgeon’s names. She had a habit of randomly placing them around the place. Someone had to lift morale, and it may as well be her. The nurses were tired, and the surgeons were exhausted. She should know, she was one once.

Envy ate nothing but its own heart, and she knew that better than anyone. It was all she thought of when she recovered from the bombing that had taken her parents’ lives. Her anxiety reared its head too much, and she was fearful of having an attack in the operating theater, so opted to stay out. It was either give in to the guilt and self-loathing, or put it to use. So rather than pine over who she used to be, she put her efforts towards making others feel better.

The Post-it notes were an idea she’d taken from her mother, the high school teacher. A moment of kindness from you could mean the world to someone else.

“Is everything okay, Raseem?” Did he hate the notes? Were they too intrusive?

“Well, it’s like this.” He shot her a sidelong glance. “You remember how we did that emergency appendectomy together in our first year on rotation?”

“How could I forget? The guy had a pericardial tamponade. Completely out of left field considering what he was in for. I still can’t believe we saved him.”

“Right. But you get what I mean.”

“Ugh.” Was there a question?

Grace paused and inspected the man. Often people spoke without words, and sometimes you had to look harder because the truth was crippling. His lips were pinched around the sides, and his pupils were dilated. She caught the twitch of his fingers at the side. He was definitely agitated about something. She cast her mind back to the appendectomy surgery. It had been hours long, and almost a disaster on many fronts. Not only did the patient almost bleed out on the table, but in closing, an exhausted Raseem had fumbled with the stitches, and Grace took over before anyone could notice.

Grace squeezed the man’s arm. “Don’t worry, Raseem. Your technique is second to none. Even the interns gossip about how great it is. You got this, buddy.”

He gave her a soft smile and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m being stupid.”

“Nope. Your not.” She was the one afraid to get back into an operating theater. “Sometimes the unexpected happens. Getting anxious before an unfamiliar case is normal.”

“You never did.”

She swallowed and looked away.

“Sorry,” he added. “I know you haven’t operated in a while.”

“And you’re in there every day. You’re going to ace it. Do what I used to do. Say something funny to break the ice.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” he mumbled absently. “A joke.”

“Do you know what else is a good idea? Letting me clock on early.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do?”

Grace pretended she didn’t hear the tone of pity in Raseem’s voice and shook her head.

“Okay then. If you really want to, I guess they do need the extra hand in there. I’ll see if someone can handover. It’s been a wild night. Meet me here in five.”

Yes. She mentally fist pumped. For a minute she thought he would tell her to go home or tell the Chief of Staff. Grace went to the staff locker room and pulled on a fresh pair of green scrubs. When she returned, Raseem waited for her with the ER schedule open on his iPad.

“They’re all a bit busy, so I said I’d show you,” he said.

“So, busy night, huh?” Graced asked.

“Busy and mad. You know how it is. I know the city has gone downhill since those vigilante cowboys disappeared but, honestly, sometimes I wonder if they feed people crack in the tap water for this amount of crazy to turn up in one night. We’ve had a few gangland stabbings, bullet wounds, another stuck a cucumber up his anus, and then there’s the special one,” he said.

“The cucumber wasn’t special enough?” Grace laughed.

Raseem handed her the iPad and brought up a patient file. “I consulted briefly on this one. Puncture wound is cleaned and stitched by a nurse. You might want to check the suture work. We suspected internal bleeding, maybe some broken ribs. Bruises over his body. Diagnostic scan reports are just in. I haven’t seen them yet.”

“Why is he so special?”

Raseem gave her a wry look. “Probably high. Didn’t want to relinquish his bag of clothes, fought with the attendants when he was brought in, bit of an A-hole… take your pick.”

“Is he dangerous?”

“If we hadn’t dosed him, maybe. He’s a big man. Just check the scans then bump him out unless he needs surgery for the internal bleeding, then call me. He’s in the observation unit.”

Raseem handed her the iPad, gave her a lip twitch of gratitude, then walked away.

She checked the scan report and her jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Wow. Just wow. Raseem would be sorry he handed this one over.

Chapter 3

From the corner of his eye, Evan watched his mother pace beside his hospital bed. Preferring to fixate on the scrap paper in front of him, he ignored her muttered obscenities and traced the lines of the portrait he scribbled with the HB pencil he’d found on the floor.

“I mean, it’s not like I didn’t prepare you for this,” Mary Lazarus said, stopping to glare at him in the way only a parent could. “It’s not like you didn’t spend your entire life training to avoid this very thing.” She punctuated her last words by hitting her palm on the bed.

“Exactly. I’m big and ugly enough to take care of myself. How did you know I was here, anyway?”

She ignored his question and continued with her lecture. “A mother will always be worried about her children, no matter how big and strong they’ve grown. I gave you the tools to be what this city needs, what this world needs, but ultimately it has to be up to you. Your sin doesn’t control you. You control it. Evan. Are you listening?”

“Yes.”

“I encouraged you when you chose to slip out into the night and fight crime. I supported you when you chose to pack it all in. But, Evan”—she made a pointed look at his faded bruised face and arms—“I won’t stand by idly while you punish yourself for something that’s not your fault.”

Evan stopped the sweeping line of his pencil stroke and lifted his gaze to focus on her.

The woman stood at five-five but had a deceptively powerful body you wouldn’t expect to see on a fifty-year-old woman. Sheathed in black workout attire, she looked fresh and fit. Her dark, silver-streaked long hair had been pulled into a convenient bun at the base of her neck. There were tiny worry lines around her eyes and in between her brows, but if he saw her on the street and had to guess her age, he’d say early forties. You’d hardly know beneath her slick surface laid an ex-assassin of the Hildegard Sisterhood and a sleeping dragon capable of killing the instant it woke. And she’d taught him everything she knew.

“My visions don’t predict everything, Evan. I’d much rather you return home where you belong. What’s this?” Mary’s eyes snagged on something. She caught Evan’s wrist in her strong vice-like grip and turned the inner flesh toward her eyes, displaying his Yin-Yang tattoo. Each of his siblings had one, but Evan had embellished his with black geometric and organic patterns that traveled up the natural lines and veins of his body, turning his arm into a work of art reminiscent of his paintings. His eldest brother, Parker, had infused the tattoo ink with an acid based indicator that reacted to each of their individual sins. The more envy registered in Evan’s body, the darker his tattoo. It was almost black.

Mary sighed and dropped her forehead to his wrist. She inhaled a shuddering breath, gathering herself. The sight broke Evan’s heart. She was disappointed, he knew, but he couldn’t help himself. The urges were too strong. Envy had driven him to fight in the underground ring. When they wanted him to fail, it urged him to win. Now he sensed envy in the hospital. In every bed. In every room. Sick people wanted to be someone else. Staff wanted to be somewhere else. Everyone wanted something they didn’t have. Including him.

He tugged his wrist from his mother and scribbled madly on the portrait.

“We should just go,” Evan stated, shifting to get out of the bed. “The longer we stay, the more likely they’ll discover things they shouldn’t about me.”

She pushed him back down. “Absolutely not. Your sudden absence will raise more red flags than not. Besides, I’ve seen the outcome. It’s best we stay.”

Mary’s supernatural visions were what led her to rescue him and his siblings from the lab that created them. Those visions kept them safe from the Sisterhood she betrayed, and the mysterious Syndicate who bank rolled their experiment.

Evan resisted, and she responded with more force. “You may be ten times bigger than me, Evan, but I can drop you like a fly.”

He eased off. She was right.

Large brown eyes looked down at him over a straight, no-nonsense nose. Evan supposed he and his siblings didn’t look so different from her. It was easy to mistake them as relatives. Evan’s biological mother was Caucasian—pale and dark-haired. Mary had been born in Mexico, had olive skin and dark eyes. Her husband Flint, their father figure, was Caucasian too, rounding out the perfect appearances for their family brood.

“I brought spare clothes for you to dress in. Lord knows you can’t wear the battle gear home.”

“I wore it last night. Nobody seemed to care. In fact, they cheered louder when I took a hit.”

“La Hostia.” Mary pulled out the gold crucifix from her top and kissed it.

“Since when did you find religion? You didn’t even pray when you were a fake nun back in the day.”

“I’m not praying now. I’m cursing. And maybe it’s because none of you children listen to me.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry. What else did you see?” Evan asked, scratching the tattoo on his wrist. “What’s got that gleam in your eye?”

Mary toyed with the zip on her jacket. The smile dancing on her lips was almost undetectable before she squashed it down, letting the hardness take back her features.

“I’m relieved to see you’re alive, that’s all.” She tapped on his drawing. “You need to stop this business about Sara. Focus on finding your own woman. Evan. Look at me.”

He did.

“It’s not healthy to pine after your brother’s dead fiancé.”

The pencil snapped in Evan’s fingers.

“You know there’s another reason for this…” he waved at the paper, unable to come up with the right word.

“Obsession?”

“Investigation! I thought you of all people would understand the dreams. I don’t pick them, they pick me.”

Mary opened her mouth to say something, then shut it. There was nothing else to say. Hadn’t been for two years. He couldn’t prove it. They couldn’t prove it. As far as everyone else knew, Sara had died a martyr in the explosion that ended life as he knew it. But Evan knew. He’d always known.

Sara had been filled to the brim with deadly levels of envy. She wasn’t as innocent as she seemed, and when he’d told his family after the fact, they blamed him. Some said he lied, others accused him of making a mistake or taking too long to tell them, and then there was the kicker from Wyatt—You’re just jealous I had someone who loved me.

They were supposed to support each other as a family, but the truth was, since Sara had entered their lives years ago, they’d never been the same.

“Whatever,” Evan said and scrunched up the drawing. “Maybe you’re right. She’s dead. It’s over. You would have seen a vision otherwise. My dreams aren’t the same thing as yours. I’ll never be as good.”

Mary sighed and searched his eyes with hers. “Look, I’m not saying you’re wrong, Evan. I’m not all-seeing. Far from it, in fact. The older I get, the less my gift seems to work, and yours... it’s something new. It’s bio-engineered. Mutating animal DNA mixed with human. It’s one of a kind and we’re learning as we go. But, what I am saying is, you need to focus on yourself, on finding the one who will be your perfect balance. From what Gloria said about your condition, I don’t believe your dreams are the ability she spoke of. It might be a side-effect, but not the one that should manifest when you meet your perfect balance.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Not this again.”

“Yes, this again. I’ve always believed you would be the first, Evan. You will show them all the way. You’re the youngest, you’ve been exposed to your sin the least. Despite what they all think, Sara wasn’t the one for Wyatt. He would’ve felt a noticeable biological response. Gloria programed your DNA that way. Wyatt didn’t develop any special abilities, so Sara couldn’t have been his match. Simple as that. Everyone needs to forget her and move on.”

Mary’s faith in him kept Evan from an early grave. But he shook his head, staring down at the crumpled paper in his hand. The idea of there being one person out there for him was too hard to comprehend. “It’s all bullshit. My birth mother told you bullshit.”

“Watch your language.”

“Sorry. But it’s true. She was a genius geneticist but she was grade-A crazy. Mad scientist doesn’t even begin to describe her drivel.”

“Have a little respect for the woman who gave her life for your freedom.”

“I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Evan resisted the urge to say she was the one who’d enslaved them in the first place. Instead, he finished scrunching the portrait into a tight ball and threw it at the curtain surrounding his bed just as it parted on the rails with a fast, metallic whoosh.

The ball bounced off the head of a young brunette woman dressed in green scrubs.

“Oh, good aim,” she said, patting her head.

All at once, every hair on Evan’s body stood to attention.

Three words, and she held him captive. He could do little else but stare.

Babe. Hot. One word impressions flashed through his mind.

Fascinating. A sprinkle of freckles covered the tip of her button nose. A fine white scar feathered up her chin to her rosy pink lips.

Lick. He had the irrational urge to lick his way up it.

Want.

What the?

He blinked madly as his body reacted uncontrollably. Heat flared up his neck, hitting his cheeks. Pin pricks of sweat tickled his skin as it flamed. He was a long way from being a school boy, so when the telltale tightness grew in his groin, he rushed to cover himself with the sheet.

Shit. What the fuck was wrong with him?

Biological reaction.

The woman bent to pick up the crumpled paper and straightened. When her whiskey brown eyes met his, there was an inexplicable moment of intimacy, of human connection. The world around him fell away, and he felt nothing, no envy, no self-disparagement. It was him and her and the strange notion that she saw through it all. The moment lasted long enough to make his heart thud once… twice in his chest, and then it was gone.

She lifted the paper ball in her hands. “Is this important?”

He shook his head like a dumb-ass.

“He’s an artist,” Mary said with a pointed look at the paper. “He’s very talented.”

Evan cleared his throat and glared at his mother, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“He has an exhibition in a few nights—”

“Mamà,” Evan warned.

“He’s also a tattooist. Has his own studio.”

Christ. He scrubbed his face, letting his hand drag down over his stubble. He caught a whiff of his body odor and flinched. God, he must look awful. He wanted to crawl under a rock or, better yet, sink beneath the floor and never come out.

Mary kept talking about him. Stop. Please, God, stop embarrassing him. He ground his teeth. “Mary.”

“Right.” Understanding entered Mary’s eyes as she ping-ponged between him and the doctor, then she gathered her things, including the plastic bag holding his Envy fighting leathers. “Right. I’ll get out of here and let you do your job, doctor. You’ll be wanting some privacy. I’ll go and get a coffee. I’ll wait for you outside, Evan.”

With a secretive smirk, Mary opened the curtain to exit, and then closed it behind her, tugging the width tight to the edge, ensuring maximum privacy.

The last sense of envy in the tiny space vacated. Evan turned his gaze back to the doctor in surprise, realizing only then why he hadn’t sensed her approach. She held no envy. None.

* * *

I hope you liked this sample of the first book in the Deadly Seven Superhero Romance series, Envy. Click here to get the book on Amazon, or start the series with the 99c prequel, Sinner.