The Devil Inside
Author: Lana Pecherczyk
Date: 2018-03-06 07:26:01+00:00
Description: GOD. HUNTER. OTHERWORLDLY TRICKSTER. PLAYER. Cash's soul was falling apart-literally. That was until Roo, his beautiful progeny, stuck it back together. He returns to his home town intending to train Roo and prepare her for the Game but demons from his past scratch from the inside and when he wakes from a nightmare, almost killing her, he decides she's better off without him. While he runs from one responsibility, others are thrown in his path. Soon he's faced with the devastating results of his retreat, and learns that while Roo may have fixed his soul, he broke her trust. When the truth abou
Publisher: Prism Press

Table of Contents

- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN

Contents

1. Copyright
2. Title Page
3. Dedication
4. Love Urban Fantasy?
5. Chapter One - Cash
6. Chapter Two - Cash
7. Chapter Three - Marc
8. Chapter Four - Cash
9. Chapter Five - Marc
10. Chapter Six - Cash
11. Chapter Seven - Marc
12. Chapter Eight - Cash
13. Chapter Nine - Marc
14. Chapter Ten - Cash
15. Chapter Eleven - Marc
16. Chapter Twelve - Cash
17. Chapter Thirteen - Marc
18. Chapter Fourteen - Cash
19. Chapter Fifteen - Marc
20. Chapter Sixteen - Cash
21. Chapter Seventeen - Marc
22. Chapter Eighteen - Cash
23. Chapter Nineteen - Cash
24. About the Author
25. Acknowledgements

Prism Press, Perth Australia.

Copyright Â© 2018 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 authorâ€™s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Text copyright Â© Lana Pecherczyk 2018

Cover design Â© Lana Pecherczyk 2018

Interior design Â© Lana Pecherczyk 2018

www.lanapecherczyk.com

LANA PECHERCZYK

To my little sis, Heidi.

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CHAPTER ONE

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.

â€œNo!â€

She fell to my chest with a sickening thud. Tears stung my eyes.

I hadnâ€™t meant to.

I was dreaming.

I didnâ€™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 fastâ€”she was a Player, Nephilim, like meâ€”butâ€¦

What if she didnâ€™t?

â€œRoo?â€ 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. Sheâ€™d fought and faced down a witchâ€”the worst nature had to offer. And sheâ€™d won.

For the first time in my life, I didnâ€™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, Iâ€™d gone blindâ€”a side effect of her fixing my broken soul. Sheâ€™d pieced it back together, and Iâ€™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, Iâ€™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.

â€œRoo.â€ I moved a strand of red hair from her face. â€œIâ€™m sorryâ€¦ say something. Fuck. You canâ€™t talk yet. Idiot.â€ I grimaced, scrubbed my face and put a trembling arm on the bed beside her. Her beautiful neck. Iâ€™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.

Iâ€™d woken from a nightmare, mistaken her for the enemyâ€”almost killed herâ€”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 wasnâ€™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, Iâ€™d burned to death.

Had I deserved it?

Probably. Prior to Roo "fixing me" Iâ€™d devoted my life to rescuing those ill-fated enough to be born human and possessed by witches. But before then, Iâ€™d been worse than a murderer: a contract killer for the Empire. A murderer who couldnâ€™t think for himself.

I sat on the edge of the bed with my back to Roo. I knew it was cowardly, but I couldnâ€™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 couldnâ€™t speak, yet, but she was trying to tell me it would be okay. Eventually, she managed to rasp those exact words: â€œIt will be okay.â€

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 wasnâ€™t capable of caring. True, I didnâ€™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 Iâ€™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 didnâ€™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.

Sheâ€™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 wasnâ€™t so bad, but advanced olfactory and auditory perception? Disruptive.

And perceptive.

I disengaged and stood, not looking back.

â€œYou shouldnâ€™t be here,â€ I said in monotone, walking away. â€œIâ€™m going to have a shower, and you should probably get yourself ready for the day. We have work to do.â€

Perhaps if I acted like a moody motherfucker, sheâ€™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.

CHAPTER TWO

Cash

BY THE TIME Iâ€™d finished my shower and had a shave, Iâ€™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 Empireâ€”if possibleâ€”and get answers. If my soul winded up floating in the ether around this world, then, whatever; Iâ€™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. â€œYouâ€™re still here.â€

She ignored my statement, or couldnâ€™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.

â€œWhatâ€™s up. How you feel?â€ she asked in a raspy voice, inspecting my eyes with concern.

â€œI should be the one asking you that, but you seem to have recovered just fine.â€ 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 fatherâ€™s old necklaceâ€”a gift from Tommyâ€”hung heavy with a key that landed in the valley of her chest.

She turned the computer screen to face me. â€œUm, so, Iâ€™ve been looking into the mythology surrounding your ahâ€¦ situation. And also,"â€”she waved the phoneâ€”â€œyour mother called. She wants to know why you havenâ€™t called her yet. The funeral isâ€¦â€

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 sheâ€™d said.

I hit her with a cold stare. â€œWhat?â€
â€œWell, grumpy-bum, Marc said youâ€™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.â€ She turned to me, eyes sparkling under the LED lights of my loft apartment. â€œThatâ€™s what you need isnâ€™t it, your original body? You arenâ€™t healing as fast as me, and quite frankly, Iâ€™m a little concerned.â€
â€œYou shouldnâ€™t be. Anyway, Marc is on the case. Iâ€™m fine. You should be more concerned with educating yourself in preparation for your trials. Weâ€™ll be at The Ludus in less than two weeks. Spend your time on that, not on me.â€
â€œIn case you havenâ€™t noticed, weâ€™re in this together. At the very least, youâ€™re teaching me, right? You canâ€™t go falling apart just yet. Who else will help me shove the trials up my fatherâ€™s ass?â€ 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. â€œConsidering I have the bloody Book of The Dead bouncing around inside my head, and that it was put there by the witch Iâ€â€”she screwed up her faceâ€”â€œabsorbedâ€¦ I still canâ€™t get over that. Gross. But this witch knew about your history. It makes sense we look into Egyptian mythology.â€ She rolled back on her side and propped her head up with a hand. â€œDid you know Osiris, the god of the dead, had links to Orion? I think itâ€™s a good place to start.â€

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. â€œSee?â€

Words kept coming out of her mouth, but Iâ€™d had enough.

I had to put an end to her interference, for her sake. Why involve her if Iâ€™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. â€œWhat was that for?â€

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 didnâ€™t need to fight. Not her.

â€œRoo.â€ My word came through clenched teeth.

â€œWhat.â€
â€œWeâ€™ve got more important things to do than research. Like your self-defense training. I almost snapped your neck.â€ The thought made me cringe. â€œYouâ€™re fucking shit at defending yourself.â€
â€œYouâ€™re fâ€”â€
â€œGo wake up Jed.â€ I lifted her off the bed by the shoulders. She kicked out, squirming, but I placed her near the door. â€œThen get showered and dressed into something more suitable for training. Pick and an outfit that doesnâ€™t have holes this time.â€
â€œYou canâ€™t just pick me up, Cash. You canâ€™t do that!â€ 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. Iâ€™d never understand her. â€œI just did.â€
â€œThis isnâ€™t funny. You know what I mean. We have to talk about what happened this morning. What were you dreaming about?â€

My smile disappeared. â€œWhat are you, my therapist?â€
â€œWell, what about your sight? You can see!â€
â€œI know I can see. I can see youâ€™re not doing as youâ€™re told, and I can also see youâ€™re not wearing the workout attire like I asked. Thatâ€™s going to fall apart in the first minute of training. Part of this mentor-progeny partnership involves you being able to take orders.â€

Take the hint, Roo.

â€œAs if Iâ€™m going to do any more of what you call trainingâ€”oh, Iâ€™m going to train you, but really Iâ€™m going to have a witch come out and attack you.â€ She flared her eyes at me. â€œIn case you missed it, that was me being sarcastic.â€
â€œClearly. In case you missed it, Iâ€™m not emotionally crippled anymore. I can fully understand your intended, if misplaced, amusement.â€
â€œHa! Hmmm.â€ She gave me a ferocious once over. The attention licked heat over my body. â€œYou certainly seem to have some humor, finally, although Iâ€™ve yet to see you smile. Not like, Iâ€™m-sexy-and-I-know-it-smile, but, like, Iâ€™m-really-happy-smile.â€
â€œYou think Iâ€™m sexy?â€ 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 sheâ€™d made it her mission to make me laugh.

â€œOh, please. Itâ€™s like I can hear your thoughts,â€ I scoffed.

â€œChallenge accepted.â€
â€œExactly.â€
â€œExactly. I will make you laugh if itâ€™s the last thing I do. Tommy is in there somewhereâ€â€”she knocked on my headâ€”â€œand Iâ€™m going to find him.â€
â€œWe donâ€™t have time to play knock on wood.â€

She gasped and covered her mouth. â€œWas thatâ€¦ was that another joke?â€
â€œMaybe. I donâ€™t know.â€

She fell back on the bed in fits of laughter. I couldnâ€™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. â€œSeriously, what happened to your clothes?â€
â€œI canâ€™t help it!â€ She tugged at the hem of her nightgown. â€œEvery time I get worked up, my fingers burn holes through my clothes. Iâ€™ve got nothing left. Itâ€™s so frustrating!â€ To prove her point, smoke curled from her fingers and a burning scent plagued the air. â€œSee?â€ She threw up her hands. â€œAnyway, what about your mother? Sheâ€™s invited us to dinner the night before Tommyâ€™s funeral. Despite your assurances that heâ€™s not really dead because heâ€™s a part of you, nobody else knows that. I think itâ€™s important to go. She misses you. Sheâ€™s not as bad as you made out, quite sweet in fact.â€

I blinked at her, staring quietly until she fidgeted and asked, â€œWhat?â€
â€œIt marvels me how you jump from topic to topic like a monkey on hot coals.â€
â€œWhat can I say? Iâ€™m multi-talented.â€

The smell of burnt rayon singed my nostrils. â€œClearly.â€ 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. â€œGo with Jed and get more durable clothing today.â€

Roo opened her mouth, presumably to argue, but the ring of my phone cut her off.

I turned my back on her. â€œWhat?â€ I snapped into the receiver.

â€œMr. Samson, itâ€™s Nell, from the office.â€
â€œI know who you are, Nell, I hired you.â€ I glanced back as Roo left. Shit, sheâ€™d left the card on the bed. I turned my attention back to the phone. â€œThis better be good.â€
â€œIâ€™m sorry to disturb you during your personal leave, but thereâ€™s been a situation, and the other men asked that I give you a call. I think youâ€™d better come in.â€
â€œWhat the fuck do I pay you all for if you canâ€™t handle things when Iâ€™m gone?â€ I clenched my fists until veins bulged in my forearms like writhing snakes. â€œOkay. Tell me. What happened?â€
â€œTeenagers all over the South have been reported missing under strange circumstances, and now itâ€™s hit your orphanage. Itâ€™s one of your boys.â€

Shit.

Fuck.

I kicked the bed.

I couldnâ€™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 Iâ€™d have to leave my charge to someone else. I certainly wasnâ€™t going to take Roo with me; she was untrained, insubordinate, and, with her recently gained powers, vulnerable.

I supposed Iâ€™d have to get used to it. I was quitting after all. Roo would be better off under the protection of somebody who wouldnâ€™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.

Iâ€™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 Rooâ€™s intoxicating smell.

â€œSamson.â€ Jedâ€™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 Rooâ€”leave them alone together?

â€œThereâ€™s an emergency. I have to go.â€ I downed the espresso.

â€œOh?â€ Jed raised his eyebrows. â€œSomething I can help with?â€
â€œMaybe. I know I promised to train you, but Roo is a priority. Sheâ€™s absolute shit at anything but using her abilities on instinct. And, as I canâ€™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. Itâ€™s cold, and no one will be down there to see.â€

I turned to go, but stopped and fished out the credit card Roo had discarded. â€œAnd here, take her to get clothes without holes in them. Something for the funeral too.â€

Jed took the card and nodded. He pressed his lips together.

I clenched my fists. Say something, I dared him silently. Tell me Iâ€™m no good for her.

When he didnâ€™t, I strode for the door and left. I had to put as much distance between myself and my houseguests as possible.

Her smell lingered.

CHAPTER THREE

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 Iâ€™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, didnâ€™t bother me. But it unnerved othersâ€”prudes if you asked meâ€”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 couldnâ€™t be naked, didnâ€™t mean Iâ€™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. Weâ€™d been neighbors growing up. As we were both from aristocratic families, weâ€™d shared a mutual disdain for them. I had always been a bit tooâ€¦ vigorousâ€¦ for my parentsâ€™ liking, and she wasnâ€™t enough of a lady. That ponytail had swung in my face, taunting me, as we ran through the grounds of her fatherâ€™s estate. Sheâ€™d always win, always outrun me. Or so she thought. Occasionally, Iâ€™d reach out and tug her hair to tease her, to make her think Iâ€™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. Sheâ€™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 Iâ€™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. Sheâ€™s up for it.

â€œHello, love. Donâ€™t believe weâ€™ve met. Iâ€™d remember that beautiful face if we had,â€ I said.

She leaned forward and pouted, coming right up to my nose. I closed my eyes ready forâ€”Ow! Pain sliced my right cheek. My eyes shot open. Sheâ€™d slapped me.

â€œWhat the bloody hell was that for?â€ I rubbed my cheek.

She cocked an eyebrow. â€œDonâ€™t think weâ€™ve met, ay? Youâ€™d remember my face, ay?â€ She put her hands on her hips and tapped an agitated rhythm with her foot. â€œAll you gods are the same. The lot of you. Bloody perverted bastards.â€

My eyes widened, and I desperately tried to remember her name, but nothing came to mind. She didnâ€™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 didnâ€™t recognize her. Humans were a dime a dozen, and Iâ€™d had so many women. It had been so long since I visited the London Ludusâ€¦.

I tried another winning smile. â€œCâ€™mon, love. Donâ€™t be like that. Itâ€™s been too long to hold grudges.â€ I cleared my throat. â€œYouâ€™ve done something to your hair, yeah? It looks much moreâ€¦ womanly. And youâ€™ve lost weight, yeah? You look ravishing.â€
â€œWell, I haveâ€¦â€ She dropped the clipboard to her thigh, caught herself and then frowned. â€œAnyone would think youâ€™re a Player, not the Gamekeeper.â€

I snorted. I bloody well wished! Iâ€™d have way more freedom as a Playerâ€”no responsibilities, no memories of the world beyond this earth, no idea what I was missingâ€”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. â€œLove, I need you to look into something for me,â€ I said as we entered the administrationâ€™s open-plan office.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

Blimeyâ€¦ 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 didnâ€™t have to. Maybe I could just menÃ¡ge-them-all.

What was that brunetteâ€™s name again? I scratched my head. Trying again to place her face. If weâ€™d done the dirty, then she mustnâ€™t be a Player because theyâ€™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 Iâ€™d met a few days ago obviously still had her metaphysical fingers hooked into me. Somehow, I couldnâ€™t get her out of my head. I didnâ€™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.

Iâ€™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.

â€œMarc, dah-ling, good to see you back.â€ A tall, familiar woman with an unwavering baby-pink bob, walked out of a glass office. She held out her limp, manicured hand. â€œWe have souls for you in storage, overflowing in fact, and some requests that need to be actioned.â€
â€œJacine.â€ I gave a curt nod and ignored her hand. Just because she was Seraphim, like me, didnâ€™t mean we were equals. She was also a Watcherâ€”banished to live on this planet, forbidden to participate in the Game or to interfere with human societyâ€”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 werenâ€™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 Simonâ€™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. â€œWas there something we can help you with today?â€

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.

â€œRight-o, love. I need someone you trust to be discreet with some research.â€

Jacine clicked her manicured fingers at the bouncy brunette. â€œClaudette, conference room.â€

I smirked. Claudette. Now I remembered. Rhymes with Corvette.

CHAPTER FOUR

Cash

THE COLD STUNG my face as I climbed the steps to Samsonâ€™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.

â€œMr. Samson.â€ 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. â€œWe werenâ€™t expecting you to check on the boys for another week. To what do we owe this pleasure?â€

Pleasure? I snorted. Hardly.

Hell, if it werenâ€™t for my unending donations that kept the home afloat, I was sure sheâ€™d never want to see me again. Iâ€™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, andâ€”I sniffedâ€”no residual scent there either.

Where were the boys?

â€œItâ€™s Mrs. Baily, is it?â€ 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 wouldnâ€™t cut it. I supposed I could also try appealing to her human natureâ€”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.

â€œWhere are the children?â€ My gaze swept the area looking for anything out of the ordinary. Nobody at the billiards table, nobody playing video games, nobody watching TVâ€”which had a new crack through the screen.

â€œTheyâ€™re at school, sir.â€
â€œOf course.â€

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. Iâ€™d have to send money for a new television, maybe more furnishings. It was looking bare in there.

â€œIâ€™m early because I have a meeting with Mrs. Merriweather from the school. About James.â€

Mrs. Baily relaxed. â€œOh, thank goodness. Iâ€™ve been so worried about that boy. And the authorities wonâ€™t help. Sheâ€™ll be bringing the children home in about ten minutes.â€ She paused and fiddled with her collar. â€œJames hasnâ€™t been home for two days, but do you want to see his room?â€

A thought trickled up through my memories. I didnâ€™t suppose young James would appreciate it. Heâ€™d been such a headstrong, private boy. I remembered the first time Iâ€™d come to visit after Iâ€™d rescued him. He didnâ€™t like talking, and neither did I. Weâ€™d respected that about each other. If he knew I was about to rummage through his inner sanctum, heâ€™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.

â€œYes. Refresh my memory. Where is that again?â€ 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 occupantâ€™s youthful face.

Sudden visions of the young Iâ€™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. Sheâ€™d said she could fix them, but there were too many to save. And she had left.

With my shoulder leaning on the doorframe 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 doorframe. 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 particularâ€”the one with the photograph of a honey-skinned, shaved-headed youthâ€”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 boyâ€™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 sheâ€™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 Iâ€™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 couldnâ€™t piece together, but my body did. My blood ran cold.

When a sharp sting hit my finger, I realized Iâ€™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 harmâ€™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 whiffâ€¦ thereâ€¦ I had it. Hydrolyzed corn, rubber, andâ€¦ 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 Iâ€™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 Userâ€™s progeny, Iâ€™d noticed his living quarters were littered with Egyptian artifacts. He also hunted The Book of the Deadâ€”now safely inside Rooâ€™s D.N.A., it couldnâ€™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.

â€œStop!â€ I bolted to the window.

I shouldâ€™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 Iâ€™d come to associate with witches. Something much more pungent.

â€œFuck.â€

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.

CHAPTER FIVE

Marc

â€œRIGHT THEN, YOU taking notes, love?â€

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 didnâ€™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.

â€œSplendid. I donâ€™t know whether you ladies are aware of whatâ€™s transpired at the olâ€™ penal colony, butâ€”â€
â€œThe colony?â€ Claudette interrupted me.

â€œHe means Australia, Claudette. Itâ€™s a joke,â€ Jacine added.

â€œI donâ€™t get it.â€
â€œYou donâ€™t need to. Carry on, Marc.â€
â€œI meant, love, that Australia was settled by English convicts.â€
â€œOh. But that was over two hundred years ago.â€ Claudette flashed her eyes at Jacine. She didnâ€™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 Iâ€™d give the Simon another crack later. Unlike me, she wouldnâ€™t stay young forever, and who knew when Iâ€™d be back at the London Ludus? This could be my last chance.

â€œTwo hundred years to me is a blip in the ocean.â€
â€œThatâ€™s not the saying, Marc.â€

I shrugged. â€œDonâ€™t care.â€
â€œAnyway, you were saying? Go on,â€ Jacine said.

â€œAll right. There are a couple of things we need to go over, but first, weâ€™ve got another unregistered Playerâ€”this one belongs to the bloody Urser House. Sheâ€™s slipped under the radar because she appears to behave like a witch, but Iâ€™ve found her to be more similar to a Soul-Eater.â€

I reveled in the womenâ€™s collective gasps. I liked delivering shocking news, especially when Iâ€™d already known about it for days. It made me feel powerful, important, and sexy as hell.

â€œSheâ€™s in Australia?â€ Jacine asked.

â€œYes.â€
â€œThen why havenâ€™t you gone to the Sydney Ludus for this? I donâ€™t want an unregistered Player on my record.â€
â€œJacine,â€ I looked into her eyes. â€œYou know why I come here.â€
â€œOh.â€ She blushed, and a small rumble of delight erupted from my throat.

â€œWhy do you come here?â€ Claudette asked.

That made Jacine even redder, and I laughed.

â€œI come here because I trust Jacine,â€ I said and looked Jacine up and down. â€œI donâ€™t like her half the time, but there it is. Weâ€™re friends, I suppose.â€

Jacine shot me a grateful look. She was the Goddess of Love, but she hated anyone to think sheâ€™d been granted control of the London Ludus for underhanded reasons. Yes, weâ€™d been together, but it had been centuries ago. And since then, Iâ€™d had to confine her to the Ludus for breaking the rules of the Gameâ€”sheâ€™d started a few cults. Sheâ€™d never quite forgiven me for her confinement, and weâ€™d stopped talking.

â€œSo, the Soul-Eater,â€ I prompted.

â€œI thought they were extinct.â€ Jacine crossed her legs and pursed her lips.

â€œPrecisely.â€ I thrummed my fingers on the marble table top and shifted my feet. Iâ€™d been too long in one place already. Part of my fluid ability to traverse the dimensions meant that, biologically, I craved movement. â€œDig up what you can about the last Soul-Eater, yeah? Iâ€™m not entirely sure if I can trust her, but sheâ€™s proven herself useful in more ways than one and theâ€¦â€

I paused, unsure if our discord was enough to break Jacineâ€™s loyalty. But if I didnâ€™t tell them, then my secrets could eventuate in conflict. I wasnâ€™t ready for civil war, not yet, I had to lay more groundwork first.

â€œThe Witch Hunter is mentoring herâ€”which is fitting, I suppose, and keeps her in check.â€

Both women raised their brows at me.

â€œYou know what I mean,â€ I continued. â€œSheâ€™s part witch. Sheâ€™ll come out of this with her head screwed on straight as long as he sticks with her.â€

I studied the air, deep in thought. Cashâ€™s true Seraphim identity was the Empireâ€™s enforcer and the Queenâ€™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, heâ€™d be a sitting duck.

I hadnâ€™t seen the little brat of a prince since the day he destroyed his motherâ€™s world. Little sod had been hiding for hundreds of years. Weak wanker.

I may think with my cods a lot, but I wasnâ€™t a traitor like him.

â€œWhatâ€™s her name?â€ Claudette was scribbling madly in her notebook.

â€œBeg your pardon?â€
â€œThe Player.â€
â€œLittle Red?â€
â€œUh, yes, I guess. Little Red is her first name?â€
â€œDonâ€™t be daft, itâ€™s La Roux.â€
â€œAnd her last name.â€
â€œUrserâ€”obviously. Arenâ€™t you listening to a thing Iâ€™m saying? Sheâ€™s La Roux-bleedinâ€™-Urser. From House Urser.â€

I smiled a little wistfully. My Little Red. Well, she wasnâ€™t exactly littleâ€”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 sheâ€™d traveled through the in-between with me. And the kissâ€¦ the randy dreams Iâ€™d sent her way that sheâ€™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 didnâ€™t care she was off limits. It turned me on, to be honest. She did something to me at a molecular level, and I wasnâ€™t sure how, but it invigorated me. Thinking of Little Red reminded me of my other purpose here.

â€œAlso, I need information on the witch called Eve,â€ I said. â€œWhatever you can find. I hear sheâ€™s the leader of the publicly declared coven in the States. Sheâ€™s the one who instigated the treaty, so start there.â€
â€œWhyâ€™s that?â€ Jacine asked.

â€œWhy did she instigate the treaty? Buggered if I know. Donâ€™t your simpletons have the interweb thingy for that kind of thing?â€
â€œNo, I meant, why do you want information on the witch?â€
â€œNone of your sodding business.â€ I couldnâ€™t believe it. Where did she get off?

â€œI have ways of finding out, Marc.â€
â€œYou touch me with your ways and Iâ€™ll make sure you stay in confinement another year.â€

Claudette rolled her eyes. â€œIs that all you need from me, or do you want me to book you two a room?â€
â€œShut your mouth,â€ Jacine snapped, irritation swimming over her features. â€œOr do you need a lesson in respect?â€

I turned to Claudette. â€œAny messages for me, love?â€
â€œYou have three. Shall I go and get them for you?â€
â€œWhat do you think, Claudette?â€ Jacine adjusted her hair with trembling fingers that betrayed her true emotions. â€œThatâ€™s a great idea. Leave. Also get the inventory of souls in Purgatory. Itâ€™s about time you cleared them out, Marc.â€

The second Claudette left the room, Jacine rounded on me, all smugness gone from her face. â€œIâ€™ve heard things, Marcâ€¦ unexplainable things that are happening in the shadows. I need to know if youâ€™re on my side or theirs. I want to go back and Iâ€™d rather do that in the Queenâ€™s good graces, but if there is another wayâ€¦ well, the Empire is a big place.â€
â€œWhat the bleedinâ€™ hell is that supposed to mean?â€ I stood and straightened my clothing construct.

â€œIt 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?â€ Jacine stood.

â€œYou firstâ€”whatâ€™s happening in the shadows?â€
â€œDove, you first.â€
â€œPet.â€

We were at a standoff. I caved first. Because I was a gentleman.

â€œJaceyâ€¦ I donâ€™t know as much as you will have me know. Iâ€™m tied up being the Gamekeeperâ€”itâ€™s not as glamorous as it sounds, yeah?â€
â€œBollocks. You know things, Egnatius.â€

My eyes widened and a violent tingle rippled through my body, shuddering across my skin. Sheâ€™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.

â€œAurelia.â€

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. Iâ€™d given mine up on a whim after a marathon lovemaking session with her, the goddess of love. In return, sheâ€™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 Universeâ€™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 otherâ€™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. â€œThis is unjust. Urser is permitted to embed himself into human society and I canâ€™t. The Prince hides away, doing whatever he wants and Iâ€™m just a fucking breeding mare, popping out the next foal to be paraded around the field. Iâ€™m sick of it. I want to have my own life, and if I canâ€™t, I want out.â€
â€œWhoa. Back up.â€ I pointed at a finger, counting out my explanation. â€œA: Urser is also producing offspring and heâ€™s not harming humans. B: the Prince is bloody royalty; he does whatever the bleedinâ€™ hell he wants. If he wants to hide away, then so be it. We donâ€™t need him. And C: you know why youâ€™re here. You betrayed the Queen.â€
â€œBollocks. That was thousands of years ago. Those cults were a tempestuous teenager stomping her foot. Iâ€™ve grown up. As you can see, Iâ€™ve got complete control of my abilities now. I havenâ€™t incited an orgy in years.â€
â€œIt wasnâ€™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.â€
â€œEven though itâ€™s destroying you slowly from the inside?â€

I stepped back. â€œThereâ€™s nothing wrong with my insides, as you well know.â€
â€œYou know what I mean, Marc. Sheâ€™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. Youâ€™re not the same caring Marc I remember.â€

I gasped. â€œI take offense to that. Strike the words â€˜with titsâ€™ from that sentence. Two legs is good enough for me.â€

I dodged the pen she threw at me. â€œStop being a tosser.â€
â€œStop? Well, Iâ€™ll have you know that youâ€™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.â€

A frustrated sound ripped from Jacineâ€™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.

â€œThe Prince is weak,â€ Jacine continued, composed once again. â€œThere hasnâ€™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. Donâ€™t you think Iâ€™ve suffered enough? I want to go home.â€
â€œThe 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.â€
â€œItâ€™s not a lesson; itâ€™s a prison.â€
â€œYes, well. It doesnâ€™t change the fact.â€
â€œI watched over them well enough when I had the chance.â€

Laughter burst from my mouth. â€œWatched 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.â€
â€œShut up. Donâ€™t say that name.â€

I chuckled. â€œWhy? Ashamed?â€
â€œNever. Iâ€™ve just come a long way, thatâ€™s all. I have self-control now. Like I said, I havenâ€™t had an orgy in over a centuryâ€”â€
â€œShame.â€
â€œCould you be serious for one moment? Have you even asked the Queen? Have you put forward our petition?â€
â€œI have. Not in person though. Sheâ€™s not seeing anyone, you know that.â€

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. â€œBut itâ€™s been an eternity. How are we supposed to get out of this if she wonâ€™t even hear our petition?â€ She lifted her gaze to lock with my own, the iridescent blue a genetic trademark of the gods. â€œIâ€™ve remained loyal. Despite the Prince and Urser campaigning for an armyâ€”yes I know that little secretâ€”Iâ€™ve passed on all inside knowledge to you and remained impartial. Iâ€™ve remained loyal, damn it. Maybe I should finally give in and save myself a place with them. I should join their rebellion.â€
â€œCodswallop,â€ 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. â€œThe Game is nearing its end. Motions have been set into play. The wheels are turning, love. Donâ€™t get caught up in them and stumble. Stay out of the way, else I wonâ€™t be able to protect you from the Queenâ€™s wrath.â€
â€œIâ€™m not sure if I can wait any more. Iâ€™ve heard things. People are talking, making plans.â€
â€œWhatâ€™s that supposed to mean?â€ I narrowed my eyes at the treasonous talk. â€œWhat are you not saying, Jacine?â€
â€œIâ€™m saying that thereâ€™s a way out of this for us. There are those back home who are working to free us.â€
â€œHow would you know that? Itâ€™s impossible for you to know anything from the Empire. Iâ€™m the only one who relays information. Iâ€™m the only one who can travel there and remember everything, so whatever you heard must be false.â€
â€œIâ€™m sorry, darling, but thatâ€™s simply not true.â€

My blood turned cold. â€œWho? How?â€

Jacine got up and snaked closer, hips swaying from side to side, until she fiddled with my collar. â€œSo strange, how you hide behind a coat of illusion, but it feels so real.â€

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.

â€œIs there someone else here?â€ I asked.

â€œItâ€™s just you and me, Marc.â€ She drew my face back to her with her finger on my jaw.

â€œI couldâ€™ve sworn I felt someone elseâ€™s aura in here.â€
â€œYou still havenâ€™t given me anything, Egnatius. Whatâ€™s so special about the boy? What is the hunterâ€™s Seraphim name?â€ 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. â€œHeâ€™s none of your business. Pull yourself together, woman.â€

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.

â€œYouâ€™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?â€

I laughed. My fingers twitched. â€œNo. Heâ€™s not.â€ Rotten liar. â€œAnd even if he was, heâ€™s thousands of years from his original self. As if heâ€™d still have what he took from the gate.â€
â€œMaybe we donâ€™t need it anymore.â€
â€œRight. Good luck with that. The technology here is light years away from getting you back.â€

Sheâ€™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. â€œSurely we can come to an arrangement. A virile god like yourself, a goddess with needs like myselfâ€¦â€ She lifted a knee and nudged it between my legs. I almost whimpered and scooted as far back as my chair would allow. â€œDah-ling. You know Iâ€™ve always liked you. Remember that time we spent three glorious nights in Barbados? We can say each otherâ€™s names over and over again. Iâ€™ll give it to you any which way you want; just say the word.â€

My heart raced. Sheâ€™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 screamedâ€”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 beaconâ€”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 Iâ€™d hugged her tight that night at the hunterâ€™s home. Iâ€™d wanted more.

â€œLove, thatâ€™s a cheap shot.â€ 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 chairâ€™s surface and screamed in frustration. â€œHow do you do that? You must teach me, or at least take me with you. Itâ€™s simply not fair you are the only person in the entire Empire who has that skill.â€

Not the only one. Little Red could do it too. Sort of. Sheâ€™d borrowed the ability from me. But that was our little secret. One amongst many.

â€œEven if I wanted to, I couldnâ€™t move you with me, Jacine. Your atoms would tangle and by the time we reached our destination, youâ€™d be destroyed. Forever. Not asleep. Not resting. But goneâ€”G-O-N-Eâ€”gone.â€

She rounded on me and palmed the marble table between us. â€œThen give me a child with your D.N.A.â€
â€œWhat?â€ I stepped back as though sheâ€™d struck me. My hands hovered over my exposed privates. Bloody side effect.

â€œYou heard me. I want a child.â€
â€œYouâ€™ve had children before. Plenty of them.â€
â€œThey were half-breeds. I want a full Seraphim child that has the ability to traverse through space like you. If you canâ€™t take me with you, then maybe a child with half my D.N.A. can.â€

I swallowed, the heat rising from my body was not a reaction to my preferred mode of transport.

â€œThereâ€™s no guarantee my child would have the same skills, and it can take millennia to develop.â€
â€œIâ€™ll tell you everything I know about the darkness.â€ She licked her lips. â€œDove, 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.â€

Freedom.

â€œLet me think on it, yeah?â€ I worm-holed my ass out of there.

I barely caught Jacineâ€™s words as they vibrated through the atmosphere and were lost in the wind: â€œBut the souls in Purgatoryâ€¦â€

CHAPTER SIX

Cash

â€œThere you are.â€ Roo strode through the door to Jamesâ€™s room, cheeks and nose pink from the cold, red hair tousled around her shoulders from the wind outside. â€œWeâ€™ve been looking all overâ€”â€
â€œIâ€™ll deal with you later,â€ 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 thatâ€™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. Sheâ€™d cost me precious seconds, and Iâ€™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 bodyâ€™s reaction, I stalked towards her, and the tightness in my chest loosened even more. I wanted to be angry. But I couldnâ€™t.

Jed dragged in behind Roo, his face pinched.

â€œWhy are youâ€”â€ I started.

â€œShut up.â€ She waggled her finger at my face. â€œLook, I know youâ€™ve got a super important job doing super important stuff, but you canâ€™t walk out without a word after what happened this morning. Iâ€™m sorry but you canâ€™t. And donâ€™t blame Jed, he had no choice. I said I would fry his insides.â€ 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. Chagrinned at her actions, she shook her hands, then returned her gaze. â€œI told you your mother called,â€ she said. â€œYou havenâ€™t spoken to her yet. Weâ€™re here for your brotherâ€™s funeral, not for you to work. You need to call her back.â€ She allowed a beat of silence as she took a breath. â€œBesides, we might be able to help. Whatâ€™s so important that you had to run ass over tit away from us?â€

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 eyesâ€”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.

â€œOff you go now, Mr. Michaels. Unpack your bag and begin your homework.â€ 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 Jamesâ€™s room.

Mrs. Merriweather.

â€œAs you can see, Mr. Samson, James is not with me. Iâ€™m afraid heâ€™s still missing. Nobody knows where he has gone.â€

We follow her downstairs where she held the door to a meeting room open for us.

â€œThe police have issued a warrant for his arrest and, because heâ€™s almost of age, Iâ€™m concerned this will affect his life more than he knows. We can talk more about it inside so the children canâ€™t hear.â€
â€œIâ€™ll be just a moment,â€ 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 sheâ€™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.

â€œNo,â€ I said. â€œNo, no, no. Donâ€™t look at me like that. Iâ€™m not that guy, La Roux, Iâ€™m not.â€
â€œBut this is your orphanageâ€”your name was on the door,â€ she gushed with twinkling eyes. â€œI canâ€™t believe I didnâ€™t put two and two together. Youâ€™re here to help the little boys?â€ She stepped towards me. â€œNo wonder you had to leave. This really is important work. The children. Iâ€™m so sorry I yelled at you, I had no right.â€

Jed, still in the hallway covered his smile with his hand.

Bastardâ€™s enjoying this.

â€œStop.â€ I was not the good guy. I was going to leave her. Abandon her. I almost preferred it when she was afraid of me. â€œGo back to my apartment and do as you were told.â€ I shot Jed a withering stare. â€œWhat were you thinking? I wouldâ€™ve thought an officer of the law had better crowd-control experience.â€
â€œPffft.â€ She blew a raspberry at me. â€œWhen do I ever do as Iâ€™m told? Iâ€™m coming in with you. Weâ€™re a team, remember.â€

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.

â€œI mean it, Roo. Go home. Work on your training and I will be back later tonight. You canâ€™t help here.â€
â€œButâ€¦ what happened to us sticking together? What happened to us trusting each other?â€
â€œYou canâ€™t fix everything.â€
â€œNo, I canâ€™t. I know that. But I thought together we stood a chance. I guess I was wrong. You were wrong.â€

I heard her accusatory words, but ignored them. Even though Iâ€™d said something similar to her only a few days ago, I left the two in the hall so I could discuss Jamesâ€™s murder charge with Mrs. Merriweather.

An hour later, while driving home from the orphanage, I thought about James. He was the first kid Iâ€™d rescued from the clutches of a witch. It had happened years ago, but the horror of Jamesâ€™s emaciated figure, starved and huddled into his sisterâ€™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. Sheâ€™d locked them away with only a second thought to feed them every other day. They werenâ€™t the first orphans of witchcraft to be found and certainly werenâ€™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 hadnâ€™t even tried. Now, I realized I couldâ€™ve done a hell of a lot more. Money wasnâ€™t everything. If Iâ€™d been more of a role model to the boy, James wouldnâ€™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 factoryâ€™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 Iâ€™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 Iâ€™d found on Jamesâ€™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.

â€œHands where I can see them,â€ 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 wasnâ€™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 paintâ€¦ none if it relevant to the puzzle unfolding in front of me.

â€œGet that shit out of his arm,â€ I ordered.

One manâ€”stocky and with a procession of metal studs down each earâ€”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 catâ€™s.

â€œYou shouldnâ€™t be here,â€ Trench Coat said.

â€œShut up. Hands behind your head. What did you put in the boy?â€ 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?

Iâ€™d never in my life been this sloppy. I was faster and stronger than any fighter Iâ€™d facedâ€”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 couldâ€™ve disabled him quicker with two fingers to his eyes but I enjoyed thisâ€”making him hurt. The manâ€™s face morphed into a bloody mess.

I realized Iâ€™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, thatâ€™s how itâ€™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 wasnâ€™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. Heâ€™d be fine.

As I turned away, a curious marking on Earringâ€™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.

â€œShit.â€ It pointed to Ursa Constellationâ€”Rooâ€™s fatherâ€™s territory. What the fuck does that bastard have going on here? I considered plunging the knife into the manâ€™s heart, ending his Game. Two weeks ago, before Iâ€™d met Roo, thatâ€™s what I wouldâ€™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 manâ€™s hands with some cable ties I found nearby and then slapped him in the face. Hard.

â€œWake up.â€
â€œWhaâ€”â€ The manâ€™s eyes fluttered open. He tried to lash out with his hands, but they were tied.

â€œItâ€™s just you and me, bro.â€ I flipped the knife in front of his face. â€œWhat are your plans with Urser? What are you doing to the boy?â€

The man sulked. â€œI ainâ€™t telling you nuthinâ€™.â€
â€œWrong answer.â€ 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. â€œWhat was in the vial?â€
â€œOur salvation.â€
â€œAnd what the fuck is that supposed to mean?â€ I rapped the hilt of my knife on the manâ€™s forehead.

â€œThe darkness will no longer be lost in the shadows of the night.â€ The man bit down and foam mixed with blood, dribbled from the corner of his mouth. The nutty smell grew stronger. Cyanide. â€œHoc est bellum,â€ he gurgled, then died.

â€œIdiot.â€ I flung my knife across the room. Jesus-fucking-Christâ€”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 werenâ€™t enough to score him an evolutionary advantage when he returned to the Empire. Heâ€™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 didnâ€™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 manâ€™s three cyanide caps from his teeth with the tip of a knife and pocketed them. Iâ€™d send Jed around later with a team to collect Trench Coat and interrogate him further.

Jamesâ€™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 Jamesâ€™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 wasnâ€™t a Player, he wouldnâ€™t wake in Purgatory to have his soul transported back to the Empire. He would dissolve into the earthâ€™s atmosphere, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Forgotten.

CHAPTER SEVEN

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 didnâ€™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 didnâ€™t trust her, so why did I want to be near her? Why did I crave her? Iâ€™d already visited the hunterâ€™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. Thatâ€™s what the Simons did, wasnâ€™t it? Check for a fever?

But I wasnâ€™t a Simon. I was a god. The god-of-the-in-between. Blimey, gods didnâ€™t get sick.

â€œFucking bollocks,â€ I muttered as I walked past a newsstand.

An old geezer sorting out the listings gasped at my words. I began to apologizeâ€”or curse again, I hadnâ€™t decidedâ€”but stopped short at the sight of a magazine behind him on the rack. A womanâ€™s kind eyes smiled from a middle-aged face, generic in its simplicity. Next to her in bold typography was: Eveâ€”Witches: the Light Against the Dark.

â€œYouâ€™d better close that trap, young man. Itâ€™s a new ageâ€”no use fighting it. Next thing you know, thereâ€™ll be aliens coming out of the closet.â€

I clamped my mouth closed, swiped the magazine off the rack and started walking as I flipped to the feature.

â€œOi! You gonna pay for that?â€ the old man shouted.

â€œWhatâ€™s that?â€ 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.

â€œBollocks.â€

I stared down at my empty hands. The magazine hadnâ€™t traveled with me. I bloody forgot it wasnâ€™t organic and couldnâ€™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 Iâ€™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 attireâ€”a three piece suit and a newsboy style cap. I approached the stand again.

â€œHow goes it, good sir?â€ I said in my best serious voice as I approached. I loved playing games with Simons.

â€œBloody youth of today,â€ the old man grumbled.

â€œEntitled sods, the lot of them, ey?â€ 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. â€œIâ€™ll take the one with the witch, thank you. Itâ€™s a new age, after all, no sense fighting it.â€

The old manâ€™s jaw dropped. He handed me the magazine, and I chuckled.

â€œKeep the change,â€ 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 Iâ€™d be able to ask the miscreant herself about the history of my mate, Cash. Little Red said Eve was the one whoâ€™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 evolutionâ€”feeding on humans like parasitesâ€”imperfect and bastardized carbon copies of Seraphim soulsâ€¦ My brows tightened. Still, I couldnâ€™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 gameâ€”this worldâ€”it was getting to me. I loved the Simons, but after thousands of years, I was tired.

I wanted out.

Jacineâ€™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 Eveâ€™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? Iâ€™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 couldnâ€™t remember Eve.

She was supposed to be an ancient and powerful witchâ€”the first of her kind. Iâ€™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. Weâ€™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 brainâ€™s internal archive tremendously difficult. It wasnâ€™t uncommon amongst the oldest of us. After all, if you remembered everything, youâ€™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 howâ€™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.

â€œTime to see the Librarian,â€ I decided.

CHAPTER EIGHT

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 wasnâ€™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 shouldâ€™ve let Roo stay. Her abilities spanned beyond that of a witch and would have been useful. Iâ€™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 biologyâ€”it was incredible. The cure had resulted in a man with bigger musculature and physique than before. Heâ€™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 didnâ€™t deserve what was happening to him, whatever it was.

Iâ€™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.

â€œWhereâ€™s Bertram?â€ I asked.

â€œOn his way in. What was the drug?â€ asked Miranda, the new nurse, as she flashed a light into his eyes. Upon seeing the nefarious ripple under Jamesâ€™s skin, she flinched, jumping back. â€œWhat the hell was that?â€
â€œThatâ€™s why heâ€™s here and not the hospital,â€ I said to the portly woman. â€œIâ€™m not sure what was injected, but itâ€™s clear itâ€™s doing something to him.â€
â€œIt was injected,â€ she mused. â€œSo perhaps itâ€™s not contagious, but, still, we canâ€™t be certain. We need to set up a quarantine.â€ 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 didnâ€™t like trusting sensitive paranormal information to someone who couldnâ€™t follow her own health advice. She would have signed a non-disclosure statement as well as being generously paid, so it was unlikely sheâ€™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 vesselâ€™s life wasnâ€™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, Iâ€™d discover it. But when my eyes were in line with his, a hand span away, he opened them and stared into my soul.

â€œJames, weâ€™re going to help you,â€ 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.

â€œJames?â€ I asked. â€œCan you hear me? Itâ€™s Cash. Do you remember me?â€

A growl rumbled from Jameâ€™s throat. â€œYou took something from my room.â€
â€œWhat was it, James?â€

He bared his teeth. â€œI want it back.â€

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. â€œWow. Whatever heâ€™s taken, thatâ€™s some drug. Did you get a sample?â€

I paused. â€œNo.â€

Miranda pursed her lips, eyes condescending over the newly adhered surgical mask. â€œThen it will take longer for us to figure out how to help him and whether this is contagious.â€
â€œI know that,â€ I snapped. â€œIâ€™ll send for a team to canvas and clean the site. There may be another witness who can provide clues.â€ I hated being wrong. I shouldâ€™ve taken the empty syringe, but I hadnâ€™t. â€œJames smells like a witch. Something isnâ€™t right. Itâ€™s not possible for a witch to be in a male body.â€
â€œWell, thereâ€™s nothing you can do right now. Weâ€™ll take it from here and, please, get yourself checked out. Donâ€™t leave the building until the lab results are back in and the quarantine is lifted.â€
â€œIâ€™m immune to witchcraft.â€
â€œWhat if this isnâ€™t witchcraft?â€

My jaw clenched, but I stayed silent.

â€œIf you get the all clear, go and sort out the rest,â€ 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 carâ€”I couldnâ€™t stop the thoughts coursing through and, yet, I couldnâ€™t settle on one. I ignored Mirandaâ€™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 wasnâ€™t ready to go back and face Roo yet. Sheâ€™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 huntâ€”mostly from the government. Speaking of government, I scrunched up the offer for direct employment from them. It was the third time theyâ€™d sent a letter in the past month. The last thing I wanted was to take orders againâ€”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 centimetersâ€”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 hadnâ€™t eaten.

â€œNell,â€ I said as I strode out of my office. I sidestepped an indoor plant I didnâ€™t remember being there and almost tumbled into her desk.

â€œYes, Mr. Samson?â€ 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 Iâ€™d last seen.

â€œHow is the boy? I feel terrible,â€ she asked.

â€œWhyâ€™s that?â€
â€œBecause I shouldâ€™ve called you earlier. Iâ€™m so sorry.â€
â€œYou were only following ordersâ€”my ordersâ€”that I wasnâ€™t to be disturbed. Never mind that. Before you clock off, find me some food.â€ That was a bit rude, I thought, and remembered my early memory flash about not being so abrupt. I added in a softer voice, â€œThank 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.â€

I handed her the gold scarab.

â€œSure. Iâ€™ll get right onto that.â€
â€œAnd take the day off tomorrow.â€
â€œSir?â€
â€œYouâ€™ve been working overtime, so have a break. Paid of course.â€
â€œThank you.â€
â€œSamson,â€ 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.

â€œNo 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?â€ His German accent was slight, but recognizable. East Central Dialect, perhaps Berlin or Frankfurt. The knowledge surfaced from my subconscious. Without a doubt. Perhaps Iâ€™d lived there before in an old life.

â€œUhâ€¦â€ 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. â€œYes. Fine, Iâ€™ll go first.â€
â€œOkay.â€ Bertram looked surprised. â€œYa, okay then. This way.â€

He ushered me into a medical examination room on the next floor and asked me to perch on the edge of a gurney.

â€œIs any of that blood yours?â€ Bertram pointed to my shirt.

â€œIâ€™m not sure.â€

He mumbled incoherently, inhaled sharply and blew abruptly through his nose. â€œTake it off.â€
â€œYes, sir.â€ 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.

â€œHow long ago did you say this was inflicted?â€
â€œAbout two hours.â€
â€œIt looks fresh.â€
â€œAnd?â€
â€œDonâ€™t get smart with me, young man. You know very well what I meant. You arenâ€™t healing at the rate befitting your biological makeup. This should be gone by now, ya?â€ Bertram straightened. â€œI want you to postulate why this is so. Explain what has happened to you since I last saw you.â€

I took a deep breath. How much to tell?

As if he could hear my thoughts, Bertram added, â€œThis 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?â€
â€œIâ€™d thought youâ€™d have your hands full with the rest of my team. Not all of them are Players.â€
â€œYa, it is true that I treat them and, ya, it is also true your Gamekeeper takes up a ridiculous amount of timeâ€”â€
â€œMarc comes here?â€
â€œYa, of course. I treat everyone. That is my oath.â€
â€œWhat the hell does Marc have to be worried about, health wise I mean.â€

Bertramâ€™s white eyebrows lifted. â€œYou know I cannot discuss another patient.â€
â€œBut I pay your wages.â€

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 wasnâ€™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. â€œYou are aware the reason Seraphim interbreed with humans is to make vessels resilient enough to handle the possession of their superior souls?â€
â€œOf course.â€
â€œSo then you know that your vessel is dying.â€

I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes.

â€œCash,â€ Bertram continued. â€œYou are dying.â€
â€œWhen you say it like that it sounds so appealing.â€
â€œWhile your newly gained sarcasm is a refreshing change, it will get you nowhere, Mr. Samson.â€
â€œSo, how long do I have?â€ I could use this, the expiration date. It made my decision easier.

â€œI 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 hostâ€”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.â€

Bertram took a photograph of the extensive bruising at my chest and then asked a few more questions so he could establish a timeframe for my bodyâ€™s rate of decline. The cut on my palm happened a week ago and had healedâ€”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 couldnâ€™t rest. I was angry. Filthy, rotten angry. I kicked over the pot plant at Nellâ€™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 withâ€¦ The meaning had changed so much in my lifetime that in the end, the word became empty. But when Iâ€™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 Iâ€™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 Iâ€™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. Iâ€™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 orphanageâ€”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 fatherâ€”the head of Urser House at the Australian Ludus. He was also a Watcher, the Queenâ€™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 didnâ€™t act on them. And Iâ€¦ 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.

CHAPTER NINE

Marc

â€œSIGN THIS, AND this, and fill out this one.â€ 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. â€œIâ€™m sorry, love, not following.â€

She adjusted her round, red glasses, looked up and down my body with disdain, handed a black pen to me and then spoke slowly. â€œIf youâ€â€”she waved at meâ€”â€œwant meâ€â€”she waved at herselfâ€”â€œto extract mem-or-ies from your arc-hiveâ€”â€

I raised my hand, cutting her off and lifted a brow with a wink. â€œLove, youâ€™ve done something with your hair, yeah? You look particularly ravishing today.â€ Thatâ€™ll do the trick.

Her lids drooped. â€œItâ€™s Annie, not love, and weâ€™ve never met.â€ She turned back to her computer, fingers flying over the keyboard, nails clicking on the keys.

I was shocked. The compliment barrage didnâ€™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 shouldâ€™ve gone to another Ludus, but I heard this Librarian at the Australian Ludus was the best.

â€œYou do know who I am, right?â€ I asked.

â€œUh-huh.â€
â€œAnd I donâ€™t have time to fill out forms, I donâ€™t need toâ€¦ Iâ€™m the Gamekeeper!â€

Without looking my way, she lifted a red-nailed finger to point at a sign over her head and recited, â€œNo forms, no memories.â€

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 wasâ€¦ I couldnâ€™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. â€œYou havenâ€™t used block letters. It specifically states you need to use block letters. Do you know what that means?â€
â€œSod your bloody block letters.â€ 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. â€œNumber sixteen. Wait your turn.â€
â€œWhaâ€”?â€

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.

â€œNumber sixteen,â€ 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 dentistâ€™s chair, huffing and puffing. I stared at a poster of childish animals on the ceiling wondering what the hell Iâ€™d done to deserve this treatment. Maybe Iâ€™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?

â€œOkay Mr. Gamekeeper, how long are we reaching?â€

Oh. Finally. I arched to find the source of the voice but my head was forced back to face the ceiling by Annieâ€™s cool hands as she sat on a stool behind me.

â€œHow far?â€
â€œWay back. Possibly the beginningâ€”wait, are you the Librarian? What happened to old mate Gonzo?â€

She whistled and wheeled herself on her seat to check something on a side bench, then wheeled back. â€œGonzo hasnâ€™t played the Game in over a hundred years. Iâ€™m the apprentice of his apprentice.â€ She lay her palms on my temples, paused as though meditating, then circled her fingers with light pressure on my skin. â€œAnd have you eaten solids today?â€
â€œNoâ€”I thought Gonzo was Seraphim, not Nephililm.â€
â€œDonâ€™t know. I can only say he taught my teacher. Drunk only clear liquids?â€
â€œYou want specifics?â€
â€œA simple yes or no will suffice.â€
â€œThis is confidential, yeah?â€
â€œOf course. I read your application. I know what youâ€™re looking for, but let me tell you, I donâ€™t know what you hope to expect, Iâ€™ve had every single Watcher whoâ€™s walked the face of the earth come in here asking the same questions. What makes you think you know the answer?â€
â€œWell, for starters, Iâ€™m not a bloody Watcher. I have rights. If you canâ€™t flippinâ€™ do it, just say so.â€ I bit my tongue to stop myself saying any further damaging remarks. A deep breath later and I patted her arm affectionately. I didnâ€™t want my fire to explode again. Injuring her tools of the trade was the last thing I needed. â€œI also want to know if I remember anything about the first witch Eve. There you go, love. Your turn.â€
â€œIf you say so.â€ Annie put a strip of leather between my teeth. â€œTake a deep breathâ€â€”I inhaledâ€”â€œand count backwards from ten.â€
â€œ10, 9, 8, 7â€¦â€ 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.

â€œTravel 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?â€
â€œYes,â€ I slurred.

â€œTell me about her.â€
â€œTall, dark skinnedâ€”like the color of the pine tree bark. Sephie introduced us on my second trip to this planet.â€

Annie stifled a gasp. Vaguely through a haze, I realized Iâ€™d used my private nickname for the Queen. Very bad.

â€œIt was before I took her back to the Empire.â€
â€œBefore you took the Queen back, or Eve?â€
â€œThe Queen.â€
â€œShe traveled with you through the in-between?"

â€œYes, of course. Sheâ€™s the bleedinâ€™ Queen.â€ My words spat out, difficult in my state, but tempestuous to the last drop. â€œAnyone a few millennia old would remember that. How old are you anyway?â€
â€œPlayers donâ€™t remember anything of their Seraphim life, hence I canâ€™t remember.â€
â€œOh yeah. Anyway, keep to the questions I outlined.â€

An audible sigh escaped her lips. â€œAnything else about Eve?â€
â€œShe was human. One of the first experiments. Made in our image, you know.â€
â€œWhy did the Queen introduce you?â€

Pain sliced through my temples as she reached.

â€œIâ€¦ something about being a messengerâ€¦ noâ€¦ thought I had something there, butâ€¦ no.â€
â€œItâ€™s okay. Donâ€™t struggle. What about the Queenâ€™s enforcer?â€
â€œWhat about him?â€
â€œDo you remember him from that time?â€
â€œOf courseâ€”who wouldnâ€™t? Heâ€™s got an ego the size of a planet, and heâ€™s a bit hard to miss with his â€˜Iâ€™m the Queenâ€™s favorite petâ€™ attitude. The day he disappeared was the best day of my life.â€ Somewhere inside, far away, I was surprised at my reaction but the words kept pouring out. â€œHe ruined everything with his macho brillianceâ€”saving the world and all that. She took his disappearance harder than I expected.â€ I sighed at the memory.

â€œDid you make him disappear?â€
â€œIâ€™m offended that you asked.â€
â€œWhen was the last time you saw him?â€

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 sheâ€™d created.

â€œSephie, we donâ€™t have time for this,â€ 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.

â€œThereâ€™s always time to explore new things, Marc.â€ She giggled as she let a fish slip through her hands.

â€œYour Empire needs you. Weâ€™ve been here for too long.â€

She stood straight, hair gleaming so brightly in the sun it looked white. â€œThese people need me more. This is our new home.â€

I was shocked. â€œWhat do you mean, new home? You have responsibilities back at our real home.â€ 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. â€œWe fought tooth and nail to unite the territoriesâ€”we wanted to be better than our brutal predecessors, and we did it. We made peace. Now youâ€™re telling me youâ€™re giving that all away? Youâ€™re running away?â€

She sighed heavily and trailed her fingers in the water. â€œIâ€™m tired of the politics. After the King died, I thought Iâ€™d be happy. He was a brute and a tyrant, just like the world heâ€™d come from, but escaping him wasnâ€™t enough. The peace we forged wasnâ€™t enough. War still kindles, waiting for the right spark to send it soaring. Thatâ€™s why I created this place. So we can start fresh. Away from all that. And those that canâ€™t physically make it here, can get a taste of real peace and freedom without leaving their home.â€
â€œSo you created a galactic resort.â€ 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.

â€œSee how carefree they are? You have to promise me, to protect these people, no matter what. Theyâ€™re too weak and innocent to protect themselves.â€

When she looked at me with those eyes, everything inside me broke. â€œSephie, you know Iâ€™ll do anything for you.â€
â€œEggie, itâ€™s not for me. Itâ€™s for them. I want you to love them as much as I do.â€

My heart swelled like the ocean we stood in. No matter what she said, though, Iâ€™d always do it for her.

â€œâ€¦ Ahâ€¦ ugkh.â€ My pain level sky-rocketed. â€œFucking, sodding, fuck.â€ I thrashed about, making Annieâ€™s job hard.

â€œMarc. Relaxâ€¦ just relax.â€
â€œCanâ€™tâ€”â€
â€œLetâ€™s try something different. Do you remember his true name?â€
â€œGyuak!â€
â€œGyuakâ€™s his name?â€

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 wasnâ€™t for the fact that Iâ€™d felt the same slippery presence when I was with Jacine earlier.

â€œThe ingredient? What did he remove?â€ Annie brought my attention back to the now and shoved her fingers mercilessly through my mind, dislodging forgotten memories, forcing a response.

â€œGrâ€”arghâ€”enforcer did it!â€
â€œAnd where is the enforcer now?â€

Even in my state of duress, my internal alarm system went off. I hadnâ€™t asked Annie to enquire about that. The questions about the hunterâ€™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 Annieâ€™s fingers out of my temples and flopped back to the seat, sweating and panting. â€œBugger. I never want to do that again.â€ I feigned exhaustion. No use letting on that I was on to her and her wily ways. â€œIâ€™m absolutely knackered, love. Letâ€™s finish on that note.â€
â€œButâ€¦â€ Annieâ€™s voice trailed off as she pulled off her glasses and wiped the steamed lens. â€œFine. If thatâ€™s what you want. It all sounds like hogwash, if you ask me, but Iâ€™ll write it up, anyway.â€
â€œYes, well, nobody asked your opinion did they?â€

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.

â€œWell, Iâ€™ll leave you to gather yourself,â€ Annie said. â€œIâ€™ll go and type up the transcript. You can come out when youâ€™re ready to make the payment.â€

Payment? â€œIâ€™ve never had to pay for it in my life!â€
â€œYes, that was a first for me too.â€

I placed my palm on my head. I kept seeing images, visual aftershocks, but was damned if I would stay vulnerable around someone I didnâ€™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.

CHAPTER TEN

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 handâ€”a knifeâ€”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. Iâ€™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 wasnâ€™t a human life I watched, but alien. A godâ€™s life.

My life.

It came back to me in pieces. Iâ€™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.

â€œOh, but theyâ€™re not inferior, you see,â€ sheâ€™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 husbandâ€™s untimely demise, but out here on the petri dish of another planet, she didnâ€™t care. â€œIn fact, theyâ€™re so pure, so innocent and untainted by evil that theyâ€™re perfect.â€
â€œPerfect animals,â€ Iâ€™d joked.

She laughed with a frown on her faceâ€”happy yet torn. It was the most magical sound Iâ€™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.

â€œYou jest, I know,â€ she said. â€œBut my love, I canâ€™t help think something is troubling you. Some truth behind the lie.â€

I grumbled acquiescence.

â€œYou worry,â€ 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. Sheâ€™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.

â€œYes,â€ I said. â€œDamn straight I worry. This entire project of yours is a plague waiting to unleash. A political disaster.â€
â€œImpossible. I have taken every precaution. Only the best minds from around the Empire have permission to work here. Weâ€™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.â€
â€œI see what you are trying to do, but attempting to predict what the universe wants is a foolâ€™s errand. Iâ€™m telling you, thereâ€™s trouble brewing.â€

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.

â€œMy 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.â€ 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. â€œAnd when we say each otherâ€™s names, weâ€™re rewarded with pleasure.â€ 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.

â€œTease,â€ I grumbled into her.

She kissed my cheek and smiled against my skin before pulling back and pointing to the new humans. â€œWhat about them?â€ She angled my head to view the villagers going about their day. â€œThey have no idea of their true purpose, and they never will. Theyâ€™ll never have to feel pain or sadness. Look how happy they are.â€
â€œAnd so they should be happy. Youâ€™ve given them only the best D.N.A. we have to offer. Not even us elite have the potential theyâ€™re born with.â€
â€œThis is where youâ€™re wrong. I havenâ€™t given them the best. Iâ€™ve taken out the bad. There is a difference.â€ 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.

â€œNot according to some,â€ I reminded her, thinking of that recalcitrant boy.

â€œAnd what do you believe, my sweet hunter?â€
â€œI 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.â€
â€œWe arenâ€™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.â€
â€œThatâ€™s exactly my point. I know youâ€™re desperate to prove to the world youâ€™re worth more than the old King, but itâ€™s not worth it.â€

She pursed her lips. â€œAnd if that doesnâ€™t work, then weâ€™re working on a hybrid of us and them. Weâ€™re from the same D.N.A. stock, so the blend would be seamless. The darkness weâ€™ve extracted will do nothing if returned to them but give them back their bad tendencies. It would have to beâ€”â€ She paused, trying to think of the right word. â€œIt would have to be converted beyond recognition and Iâ€™ve gone to great pains to ensure we have no alchemist on this planet. Iâ€™ve thought this all through. Why are you resisting?â€
â€œBecause itâ€™s my job as your military advisor to call you out.â€
â€œAnd what of your job as my consort?â€

My face heated, and I growled, reaching for her. â€œDo you really want a demonstration? Because Iâ€™d be happy to show you.â€

She swatted me playfully. â€œIâ€™m serious.â€
â€œSo am I. Donâ€™t you see the potential for darkness in what youâ€™re creating?â€
â€œOf course a soldier would believe that. You need to stop thinking in black and white and start in color. I didnâ€™t get to be where I am today without taking risks. I can assure you, the darkness is not a problem.â€
â€œSo you keep saying, butâ€¦â€ 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. â€œThere is something not right. I feel it in my bones.â€

She sighed. When she turned away, she took the light with her.

My body turned cold in her shadow.

â€œWhat does your son think?â€ I asked, hesitant.

â€œAlkiemon believesâ€”â€
â€œYou said his true name,â€ I said through my teeth.

â€œRubbish. 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 hasnâ€™t been thinking straight since his father died. He will come around. That is why Iâ€™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.â€
â€œItâ€™s not rubbish. He will know we are talking about him. He will know where we are.â€

She linked her arm with mine and guided me back to the village. â€œLet 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.â€

The Urser Constellation was the original home to the late King and they were still seething about his untimely death. I didnâ€™t want to argue. I smiled briefly at her, letting her know I was joking. â€œAnd howâ€™s that?â€

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 Iâ€™d felt the sweet touch of her lips on mine, the softness of her body under mine. I knew I said Iâ€™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 againâ€”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 weâ€™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. Theyâ€™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 werenâ€™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, sheâ€™d said. Reluctantly, I abided and called the Queenâ€™s Guard to attend, but when Iâ€™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.

â€œWhat have you done?â€ the Queen howled at her son as she joined me, unable to stay away any longer.

His wretched laugh rose over the discord. â€œYou wanted me to learn from them, mother, and learn I did. Iâ€™ve become very familiar with them, in fact.â€ He clicked his fingers again, and the beasts came tittering over, dragging and sliding as though being pulled on puppet strings. â€œFor 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.â€

He flicked his wrists, and the beasts shuffled towards the Queen and I.

â€œDid you know I can command their souls to leave their bodies? I can also force them to stay.â€
â€œNO!â€ she screamed. Her hands rose in a show of force, crackling, ready to send her power into her child. â€œI wonâ€™t let you do this. Itâ€™s not too late. Repent and let me fix them.â€
â€œIt is too late, mother. It is already done. Thereâ€™s no going back.â€

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 Egnatiusâ€™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. â€œLet me fix it,â€ she cried. I donâ€™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, â€œWhat have I done?â€
â€œItâ€™s no use, theyâ€™re beyond hope,â€ I said, shooting another.

She turned to me, all warmth fled from her face. â€œI shouldâ€™ve listened to you. Iâ€™m so sorry, I shouldâ€™ve listened. Unleash yourself. Wipe this place clean.â€
â€œYou canâ€™t be serious? I wonâ€™t do that.â€
â€œItâ€™s an order. Wash the earth clean and then return home.â€

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 Queenâ€™s voice as she screamed, Kill them all, repeatedly as Egnatius took her away.

And then, in a white rain of fire, Iâ€™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 hadnâ€™t been near Roo this time. That knife in my hand would have no doubt ended in her guts, slicing her through and through.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

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 didnâ€™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, â€œIâ€™d say Iâ€™m sorry to interrupt, but Iâ€™m not really.â€

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.

â€œYou okay in there, miss?â€ A disembodied voice came from the other side.

Rooâ€™s eyes opened to big white ovals, and she shook her fists at me before covering herself with a jacket. â€œYes, Iâ€™m fine, sorry I just slipped over.â€ Then she lowered her voice and gave me daggers. â€œEver heard of knocking?â€
â€œNow, whereâ€™s the fun in that?â€
â€œI have rights, you know. Itâ€™s polite to knock.â€
â€œIf itâ€™s any consolation, Iâ€™m quite open to you seeing me naked. Evens the playing field if you know what I mean.â€
â€œWhat are you doing here, Marc?â€ she hissed. â€œBesides being a pervert.â€
â€œIâ€™m offended. I was only having fun, you know Iâ€™d never really try anything. Sometimes I canâ€™t help where I end up.â€
â€œWell, you should try to have some manners, or at least pretend to have a little humility.â€
â€œMaybe.â€ I shrugged and rubbed my tickling ribsâ€”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. Donâ€™t think of her like that. Sheâ€™s off limits.

I did feel bad for making her feel bad.

â€œI apologize, love. I really do. I didnâ€™t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. But, you see, Iâ€™m in a bit of a pickle. Thought I might cash in on that favor you owe me.â€
â€œWhat, now?â€
â€œIâ€™m happy to wait. Take as long as you need.â€ I perched myself on the change room bench. â€œI 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?â€ I picked up a dark green slinky item. â€œOoh, 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 isâ€”â€

Roo snatched the items from my hands. â€œItâ€™s none of your business, thatâ€™s what it is. Oh, for the love ofâ€”â€ 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 couldnâ€™t help poking my finger through as she took a seat next to me. She swatted me and gave me the teacher look. â€œMarc. I think weâ€™ve had this talk already. When I said I owed you a favor for rescuing me from that pit of hell last week, I didnâ€™t mean a favor of the explicit nature.â€

I lifted my hands in mock surrender. â€œOh, Iâ€™m here on business, I swear!â€

She gave me a sideways glare then hastily dumped a pile of clothing in my lap. â€œYou know I find your nudity uncomfortable. Especially when itâ€™s likeâ€â€”she waved at my crotchâ€”â€œyou know.â€

I wiggled my eyebrows. â€œWell endowed, you mean? Virile, perhaps?â€
â€œYes, Marc. Yes. Thatâ€™s exactly what I meant.â€ Sarcasm dripped from her tongue.

â€œFor the last time, love, I canâ€™t help it. Youâ€™re extremely beautiful and invigorating, as to the rest, itâ€™s a side effectâ€”no inorganic matter through the dimensions, yeah?â€

She laughed through her nose. â€œYeah-yeah. What can I help you with?â€

I shuffled a smidgen toward her. I couldnâ€™t vocalize why, but I wantedâ€”neededâ€”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.

â€œMarc.â€ She snapped her fingers.

â€œRight.â€ I blinked. I couldâ€™ve sworn I heard coconuts and steel drums playing. â€œIâ€™ve been needing to talk to someone about some issues Iâ€™ve been having. So of course, immediately I thought, ooh, I know someone whoâ€™s got the perfect skills to evaluate and study my thought process. Someone to council me on a beneficial outcome.â€

She frowned. â€œYou went to speak to a therapist?â€
â€œDonâ€™t be daft. Youâ€™re a bartender. Youâ€™re perfect.â€
â€œOh.â€
â€œBut we canâ€™t talk like this. Come with me.â€

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.

â€œWhat was that for?â€ I moaned, still clutching my midsection, frowning.

â€œYou bastard.â€

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.

â€œYou canâ€™t just kidnap me.â€ Her voice traveled over the bar and echoed loudly in the vast room.

â€œOf course I can. I just did.â€
â€œYou know what I mean.â€
â€œWell, love, you see itâ€™s like this.â€ I made sure somber tones played across my face. â€œYouâ€™re the only one I can do this with.â€
â€œKidnap through the dimensions?â€
â€œNo. Well yes, but weâ€™ve discussed that. I meant, have a heart-to-heart with.â€

Roo was silent for a while, then she said, â€œOh.â€
â€œYou can see my aura, you can tell what I feel is true. And I can see yours. We canâ€™t lie to each other.â€
â€œOh,â€ 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. â€œIâ€™m naked.â€
â€œAnd? Iâ€™m naked too. Nothing to be ashamed of. Weâ€™re both specimens of perfection.â€ 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 wasnâ€™t to like? I smoothed my blonde hair to the side. â€œNo need to be a prude.â€

She sighed heavily. â€œIâ€™m not a prude. Itâ€™s just that Cash doesnâ€™t like you running about naked when Iâ€™m around. I doubt it heâ€™ll want me running around you naked.â€
â€œRi-ight. Got it. We donâ€™t want to piss off the hunter now do we?â€ My eyes surveyed the empty nightclub briefly then caught on something. I waltzed over and retrieved the apron then threw it over the bar. â€œNot to worry. There you go, love. Your dignity remains intact.â€

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.

â€œNow, 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.â€ 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, thereâ€™s no telling what lengths sheâ€™ll go to capture her. Roo could be in danger.

â€œOkay, so Iâ€™m flattered that you want to spill your guts to me, but Iâ€™m on a schedule. So out with it.â€
â€œWait, wait, wait. Somethingâ€™s not right.â€
â€œYour attitude?â€
â€œYouâ€™re funny, Little Red, but no. Thatâ€™s not it.â€ I waved at the bottles lining the wall behind her and then perched on a stool. â€œYouâ€™re a bartender. Pour me a drink.â€

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.

â€œWhat do you want to drink?â€ she asked tapping her chin.

â€œTequila.â€
â€œWhich one? Thereâ€™s so many?â€
â€œThat one up the top. Yep. Top shelf. No, actually, bottom. The one on the very nice bottom,â€ I said absently.

â€œThis one?â€ 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.

â€œYou need to get some new material, Marc. Thatâ€™s one of the oldest tricks in the book.â€ She snorted. â€œAs if Iâ€™m going to bend down.â€
â€œYes, well, not everyone is telekinetic like you.â€ I simpered for a second while she poured a shot of Tequila.

â€œCome on, out with it. I havenâ€™t seen this level of sexual harassment since we first met. You can normally hold it in. Something must be on your mind.â€
â€œSpoil sport,â€ I added before I slammed the liquid down my throat. â€œAhh, thatâ€™s better. Liquid courage. Arenâ€™t you going to have one?â€
â€œWhatâ€™s the point? Alcohol burns through us too quickly.â€
â€œYou still get a teensy-tiny buzz, especially if we drink the entire bottle. Go on. Admit it. You know you want some.â€

She smiled tightly and then poured herself a shot, slammed it down and then licked her lips. â€œOkay, now really, out with it. If we donâ€™t get back soon, Jedâ€™s going to go postal.â€
â€œDonâ€™t worry, he thinks youâ€™re in the change-room and we all know how long women take in those things.â€
â€œMarc,â€ she warned.

â€œAll right.â€ I sighed dramatically. â€œI ate this hot-pocket earlier and I think itâ€™s repeating.â€

She raised an eyebrow.

â€œFine. 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?â€ I was stalling, avoiding my real purpose for being here, but what I said was true. Ever since the Librarian, Iâ€™d felt a bit useless. â€œI havenâ€™t cared about what anyone thought for a long time, but she unnerved me.â€
â€œAnd what did you do there, check out books?â€
â€œDonâ€™t be daft. The Librarian checks your memories out.â€
â€œOh, wow. Okay. How does that work?â€

I explained the process.

â€œSo, maybe you discovered something that bothered you, maybe it wasnâ€™t the Librarian, but what she found?â€

I thought back to my newly emerged memories. I didnâ€™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?

â€œDo you want to talk about it?â€ Falling into old bartending habits, Roo wiped the bench down.

â€œNo.â€

But then it hit me. Iâ€™d promised Sephie to protect her creationsâ€”the Simons. Iâ€™d spent the last few millennia doing so while sheâ€™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.

â€œI miss her,â€ I confessed.

â€œWho?â€
â€œSephieâ€”the Queen.â€
â€œThat must be tough.â€
â€œYou 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 thenâ€¦ nothing. Itâ€™s like our friendship wasnâ€™t enough to bring her back. All she cared about was the bloody hunter, and then when it finally seems as though sheâ€™d forgotten him, this happens.â€
â€œHe turns up.â€
â€œAnd Iâ€™m afraid what it means when I go back to tell her.â€

She was silent, her aura flickered with sadness. I knew it wasnâ€™t for me. She, too had feelings for the bloody hunter.

â€œYouâ€™re afraid that despite all the work youâ€™ve been doing for her, you will go unnoticed,â€ she said.

â€œMaybe.â€
â€œMarc, youâ€™re amazing. You donâ€™t need anyoneâ€™s validation for that. The least of all, some queen who doesnâ€™t even know your true worth. Behind that womanizing exterior, thereâ€™s a heart of gold.â€ Roo reached over and squeezed my hand. Her simple touch was all I needed to shake out of my stupor. But then she said, â€œI see you,â€ and I think I fell in love.

We stared at each other, eye to eye, for what seemed like an eternity.

I blurted, â€œI think Iâ€™m being followed, and itâ€™sâ€¦ itâ€™sâ€¦ never happened before.â€
â€œOkay.â€ She pulled back. â€œWhat can I do to help?â€
â€œWell, nothing, actually.â€
â€œPardon?â€

I shrugged. â€œI just wanted to see if I traveled across the world, that the feeling would follow. Itâ€™s like Iâ€™m in one of those television thingies being watched by people I canâ€™t see. Perhaps youâ€™ll feel it too, and Iâ€™ll know Iâ€™m not going barmy.â€ I paused. â€œI donâ€™t know why Iâ€™m telling all this to you. Itâ€™s not like I need help. Are you sure youâ€™ve told no one about you being able to travel through the in-between with me?"

â€œYeah, I mean Iâ€™ve only told Cash. I donâ€™t even think Jed knows, but heâ€™s on our side.â€
â€œWhoâ€™s Jed?â€
â€œOh 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, heâ€™s gone but heâ€™s not gone? So, anyway, heâ€™s pledged to Cashâ€™s service. Heâ€™s right outside the change-room if you want us to go back and get him.â€
â€œNo. Donâ€™t tell him Iâ€™ve been here.â€ 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 itâ€™s possible they had a mole in their camp. â€œHave you told Jed about our mateâ€™s secret identity?â€
â€œYou make it sound like heâ€™s a superheroâ€”well, I suppose he kind of is.â€ Roo caught herself in a snort. â€œNo, I havenâ€™t told anyone.â€
â€œBut this Jed bloke, he lives with you, yeah? Is it possible heâ€™s overheard you two talking? I mean, whatâ€™s his special ability, does he have super hearing like your mate, the hunter?â€
â€œMarc.â€ Roo threw her hands in the air, exasperated. â€œStop it. Jedâ€™s with us. Heâ€™s one of the good guys. I donâ€™t even think he has any ability, he said heâ€™s pretty low grade for a Player, heâ€™s only got a small star map, besides, thereâ€™s no wayâ€”â€
â€œShh.â€ I held up his hand, cutting her off. I felt the slippery chill again. â€œItâ€™s here.â€ I flared my eyes at her. â€œIâ€™ve got an idea. Letâ€™s play a game. Letâ€™s pretend that I turned up here with some information aboutâ€¦ oh, I donâ€™t knowâ€¦ The Heart Scarab. Tell your mate, Jed, that Iâ€™ve found the device that can hide the darkness of oneâ€™s soul, and that we need your Book of the Dead knowledge to unlock it. Weâ€™ll see if the information getâ€™s back to the enemy. Then weâ€™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.â€
â€œOkay, sure, but maybe itâ€™s better coming from you. Cash hasnâ€™t been home all week. Unlike you, heâ€™s avoiding me, I think itâ€™s because I disobeyed orders but Iâ€™ve been trying hard and Iâ€™m a little worried. Then again, maybe itâ€™s the whole Soul-Eater thingâ€”what?â€ Roo asked when she caught the look of sheer amazement on my face. â€œDo I have something in my teeth?â€

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.

â€œEgâ€”â€
â€œDonâ€™t say it!â€ I held my hand up.

â€œWhat is it?â€ Her adorable brows furrowed.

â€œItâ€™s my true name. Memorize it.â€
â€œOkay.â€ 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.

â€œGot it?â€ I asked.

She nodded.

I sent my power into the paper to ignite it in her hands. She squealed and dropped it.

â€œOnly a handful of people know that name, love. Speak it if you have a dire need of me. If Iâ€™m on this earthly plane, Iâ€™ll know. Iâ€™ll come.â€

A flush rushed her cheeks. â€œMarc, Iâ€™m honored.â€
â€œYou should be.â€

She laughed.

I couldnâ€™t help but join her. â€œLove, you know Iâ€™ll always be there if you need me. I wonâ€™t ignore you.â€

Her eyes seemed to glisten. But thenâ€”

â€œDo you feel that?â€ I asked. The air electrified in the confined space and the lights flickered.

Roo gave me shifty eyes and whispered. â€œYeah. Youâ€™re right. Itâ€™s like weâ€™re standing too close to the TVâ€”like a two way TV!â€
â€œI knew I liked you for a reason. Cheerio, love.â€

CHAPTER TWELVE

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. Iâ€™d texted a picture of the script to Roo and asked if it sounded familiarâ€”she said no, which meant the scarab was a human knock-off. Close but no cigar.

When Roo enquired to my whereabouts, I blamed Jamesâ€™ condition for not being able to return home. It was half true. I stood vigil at his bed nightly, and the boy wouldnâ€™t wake up. There wasnâ€™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 Iâ€™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, Iâ€™d be dead within the next twelve months.

Some part of me welcomed that idea. I was tired. Beyond tired. I felt like Iâ€™d been fighting my entire life. The memories had been slowly seeping in, saturating my mind.

This bullshit drove me madâ€”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 hadnâ€™t grown up being taught the rules, and Iâ€™d spent a short few years under the tutelage of a mentor, and that was Urser. As soon as Iâ€™d discovered his Houseâ€™s blatant disregard for life, Iâ€™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.

â€œIs it James?â€ I asked.

â€œActuallyâ€¦ itâ€¦ uh.â€
â€œSpit it out.â€

She jumped, eyes widening. I softened my expression and tried again.

â€œWhat is it, Nell?â€
â€œThe phone.â€ 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. â€œYes?â€

A hell of a racket blared at me.

â€œCash?â€ came a crackly voice.

â€œRoo?â€

I couldnâ€™t quite make out what she said between the interference and more loud crackling.

â€œWhat the fuck is happening?â€ I shouted redundantly because the line went dead. â€œRoo?â€

I stared at the handset as though it would come alive and start explaining, but it remained silent.

â€œDid you hear anything?â€ Nell asked, with a tightness to her words.

â€œNo, it went dead. Do you know what that was about?â€
â€œAh.â€ She avoided eye contact as though she had something to hide, and her heart beat faster than its usual pace.

â€œYou canâ€™t lie to me,â€ I stated.

â€œIâ€™m sure it sounded like she was under attack. There was a definite hostile feel to that call.â€

My chest constricted. â€œShit.â€

I handed Nell the sample. â€œSend this up to the lab, expedite the results and have them call me as soon as they get in.â€

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! Iâ€™d only been gone for a few days and if sheâ€™d gotten herself into a messâ€¦

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 Rooâ€™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 theâ€”?

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 almostâ€¦

A female gave a long, drawn out moan.

That wasnâ€™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. Iâ€™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 shouldnâ€™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. Iâ€™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 Iâ€™d almost killed her by crushing her throat. Sheâ€™d felt so right. Sheâ€™d come to me, comforted me, accepted me. That felt right.

Thisâ€”more suspect sounds filtered through the doorâ€”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 wasnâ€™t what I expected. The ache in my chest eased a little, but stillâ€¦ Jedâ€™s hands slid over her skin, kneading, rubbing.

Touching.

Her.

Jed glanced up and smiled innocently in greeting.

â€œGet off her,â€ 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.

â€œWhat did he do to you?â€ I asked.

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

â€œYou donâ€™t have to be such a jerk about it. I accidentally dislocated my shoulder during training. It wasnâ€™t Jedâ€™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.â€
â€œIâ€™ll bet.â€ I rounded on Jed whoâ€™d gone to the kitchen to help himself to some water.

â€œWhatâ€™s that supposed to mean?â€ Jed glowered back at me.

â€œWhat 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.â€
â€œMy job? Have I missed something, or is it my job to mentor her?â€
â€œFuck off.â€
â€œWell, you werenâ€™t here were you. Why donâ€™t you show her how to do the basic lock and throw maneuvers?â€ 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 didnâ€™t need to know that, and Iâ€™d be damned if I told them.

â€œI thought you were under attack.â€ I gave Roo the full force of my attention.

She stood up and flexed her fists.

â€œI didnâ€™t say that. I tried to ask when are you coming back, but the line didnâ€™t work.â€

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 didnâ€™t think it were illogical, Iâ€™d believed she wanted a volatile reaction from me, as though sheâ€™d planned it all along. Why?

â€œYou did this?â€ I lifted the phone.

She shrugged. â€œIt was an accident. I gotâ€¦ upset. I told Nell I wanted to know when youâ€™d be home. Thatâ€™s all.â€
â€œWhy did Nell tell me you were under attack then?â€
â€œHow would I know?â€

I took another look at the phone. The plastic length had melted and warped where her fingers wouldâ€™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. â€œIâ€™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.â€

Jed lifted his brows but took the card. Did he expect a gold plated invitation? I explained: â€œI have the funeral. I canâ€™t go. Iâ€™d appreciate having someone I trust there to oversee things.â€

Recognition flooded Jedâ€™s eyes. â€œRight.â€
â€œAsap.â€

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 sheâ€™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 Rooâ€”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.

â€œAre you packed?â€ I finally asked.

She narrowed her eyes. â€œDonâ€™t you want to know whatâ€™s been happening while youâ€™ve been gone? Itâ€™s been over a week.â€

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

I allowed myself a glance down the hall toward Jedâ€™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.

â€œIâ€™ll go and finish packing,â€ 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 Rooâ€™s door. As I lifted my hand, the door swung open.

â€œIâ€™m ready.â€ 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 Iâ€™d better stop looking otherwise sheâ€™ll think Iâ€™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. Tommyâ€™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 wasnâ€™t worthy of her. I wasnâ€™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.

â€œNot that you care, but Iâ€™ve been researching your history,â€ she said and nodded to her papers. â€œI think Iâ€™ve found something. Iâ€™ve been speaking with Marc andâ€”â€
â€œWhen did you see Marc?â€

She pursed her lips at the interruption. â€œOh, I donâ€™t know, sometime in the ten or so days you werenâ€™t here?â€
â€œHas it really been ten days?â€

Her blank stare was answer enough.

â€œIâ€™m sorry.â€

She ignored my apology. â€œHe left me stranded at some closed local nightclub.â€
â€œHe what!â€

Roo flinched at my furious tone but she lifted her chin in defiance. â€œHe 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 hadnâ€™t come and picked me up, Iâ€™d have been left in a very precarious position.â€
â€œPrecarious.â€
â€œMm-hm.â€ She wouldnâ€™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 didnâ€™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.

â€œTell me everything.â€ 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. â€œStart at the beginning. With Marc. What happened?â€

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 Marcâ€™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.

â€œTo be honest,â€ she said, â€œthis whole thing is giving me the creeps. Iâ€™m not sure if Iâ€™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 heâ€™s wanting it to filter too.â€
â€œGo on,â€ 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 sheâ€™d felt without me over the past week. She lifted her eyes to meet mine.

â€œIâ€™m sorry,â€ I said. â€œFor everything. Iâ€™ve been a complete jerk.â€

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.

â€œYou donâ€™t need to apologize,â€ she whispered.

Heat exploded beneath her touch. â€œThereâ€™s no excuse for how Iâ€™ve treated you.â€
â€œYeah, I agree. Youâ€™ve been a giant douche. Why donâ€™t you tell me whatâ€™s bothering you instead of keeping secrets?â€

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 didnâ€™t like me. â€œYou deserve better than this. Than me. You shouldnâ€™t have to be afraid in your own home.â€
â€œIs that what you think?â€
â€œYou canâ€™t lie to me; I hear your heartbeat elevate every time Iâ€™m near. Itâ€™s obvious youâ€™re afraid of me.â€

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

â€œWhatâ€™s so funny?â€
â€œIf you think thatâ€™s why my heart races when youâ€™re aroundâ€¦â€ 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. â€œCash, you may have your sight returned, but youâ€™re still blind if you canâ€™t see the real reason my heart leaps out of my chest when weâ€™re together.â€

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

â€œBut, you deserve better,â€ I said.

â€œI donâ€™t want better, Cash.â€ She inched closer to me until her nose touched my cheek, her breath tickling. â€œI want this.â€

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.

â€œStop running away,â€ she breathed.

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

I supposed I could show her.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Marc

I SPENT THE next few days dodging slippery shadows and ignoring Jacineâ€™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. Iâ€™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 werenâ€™t for Little Red confirming my suspicions, Iâ€™d say I was completely off my rocker.

If I didnâ€™t sort this out soon, Iâ€™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 hadnâ€™t been hard to find, practically advertised herself to the world by running that article. All I needed to do was sweet talk the magazineâ€™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.

â€œYes?â€ The door opened to reveal a woman. Tall, dark and drab. Definitely the maid.

â€œIâ€™m looking for Eve, love.â€
â€œIâ€™m sorry, but sheâ€”â€
â€œLet him in, Karen.â€ A womanâ€™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 Iâ€™d come to expect from a witch.

That was the first thing that threw me off.

â€œVery well. Follow me.â€ 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.

â€œIâ€™ve been wondering when you would show your face,â€ she said without looking up.

â€œPssht.â€ I laughed through my nose. I couldnâ€™t believe her cheek. As if. I snorted. â€œYou donâ€™t even know who I am.â€

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. â€œOf course I do.â€

When I said nothing, she added, â€œIn either form you care to appear in.â€

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

â€œNow, before you start setting profanities loose in your mind, perhaps youâ€™d benefit from sitting down and playing with me. I do know how you like games.â€

What? Howâ€¦ did sheâ€”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 Iâ€™d been alive longer, Iâ€™d had timeâ€”eons of it. She, a drop in the ocean that was my life. It wasnâ€™t until I scratched the stubble on my face that I realized my form had slipped from the carefree youth Iâ€™d arrived as to the older suave version I saved for more serious moments.

â€œA game, Marc. Come on, I know youâ€™re fond of them. Would you care to play white?â€
â€œWhat I care for, is for miscreants like you to wipe themselves off the face of this planet. Thatâ€™s not going to happen, is it?â€

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 gentlemenâ€™s game, that. I moved a rook to capture her pawn. Easy.

â€œIâ€™d like that, too,â€ she murmured after shifting a knight.

Right.

Odd.

Was she having a laugh?

â€œGreat. Then itâ€™s settled. Letâ€™s start with you, yeah? Howâ€™d you like to do this? Fire. Dispersion. Ooh, I know a Soul-Eater now. We canâ€”â€

Eveâ€™s brown eyes shot up to meet mine, and I halted my words.

â€œYes I know all about her,â€ Eve said. â€œAnd sheâ€™s not what you think.â€
â€œHow the bloody hell would you know that.â€
â€œBecause Iâ€™ve met her. Besides, you would know that too but it seems as though your memory is slipping.â€

Bugger. Exactly how much did this woman know?

Just then, the temperature dropped in the room, icy cold, fog misted in front of Eveâ€™s mouth and then her eyes traveled to an area over my shoulder.

My skin crawled.

It was here. The presence.

â€œYouâ€™ve been followed,â€ Eve stated without taking her fingers off the chess piece she held.

â€œYou can feel that?â€ I stood.

She stayed seated, silent, listening.

My senses twitched. I wanted to leave, but Iâ€™d only just begun. Conflicted, my fingers tapped my thigh, thrumming in agitation.

â€œDo you want me to get rid of it?â€ 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. Sheâ€™d met Little Red. I was curious.

I assessed the witchâ€™s aura for signs of betrayal and found only soft steady electricity. So unlike the other witches Iâ€™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, butâ€¦ it would be good to get rid of that sinister cloud stalking me and sheâ€™d be thinking she did me a favor. I could use that.

â€œVery well. But first, can you find out who it is?â€

Eveâ€™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 roomâ€™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 wasnâ€™t fair that these creatures had such mighty untethered control over their energy. Iâ€™d had thousands of years to evolve, and yet I was a novice in this area compared to her. I couldnâ€™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 Eveâ€™s body pounced, catching on tendrils. I gasped. How on earth did she get her body to move when she wasnâ€™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, Eveâ€™s body held on, pulled it close and whispered sweet nothings into the darkness, unafraid.

As though sheâ€™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 Eveâ€™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.

â€œWho are you?â€ Eve asked the darkness, licking her lips. â€œWho sent you?â€

I couldnâ€™t hear the whispered response.

Eveâ€™s eyes flicked to catch mine. â€œHe was sent by the Dark-Lord.â€
â€œFuck,â€ I spat. The Prince. â€œThat little prick.â€
â€œWaitâ€”he was sent by him orâ€¦â€ Eve paused, straining. â€œOr he was sent for him. Itâ€™s hard to tell. Would you like me to get rid of it?â€
â€œWhat do you want?â€

Eve laughed. â€œAlways a price, isnâ€™t there, Marc.â€
â€œIâ€™m no fool.â€
â€œLike I said to your little friend the Soul-Eater. I donâ€™t want anything in return. I want to help.â€

Now it was my turn to laugh. During her little show of power, sheâ€™d neglected to guard her aura. I could see her intentions in full Technicolor glory. â€œNothing in return. Wow. You are a number.â€

This sent anger rippling over her face. â€œI donâ€™t want it to be this way. I never did.â€
â€œI donâ€™t care what you want. The simple fact is that your creations are destroying our game, and the humans inside it.â€
â€œMy creations.â€ She laughed. â€œHow is it different from what youâ€™ve done?â€
â€œUh, for starters, love, I donâ€™t know exactly how you formed, but Iâ€™m not blind. I can see you have links to the darkness that was set loose in the beginning, meaning youâ€™re original sin incarnate and your creations are the spawn of evil.â€
â€œHa! And yours arenâ€™t? What about your wars? What about your evil humans, the murderers, rapists, molesters? I didnâ€™t make those.â€
â€œNo, butâ€¦â€ I had nothing to respond. It was the Prince who defiled the Queenâ€™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. Thatâ€™s enough of that, thanks.

Within seconds, I was in front of her. My aura surrounded the writhing darkness.

â€œIf I were you, Iâ€™d slowly disengage your arm from that mess,â€ I warned.

Eveâ€™s eyes flared, and a vein popped in her forehead. â€œWhat are you doing?â€
â€œGetting rid of it, of course. Do you have a problem with that?â€

She swallowed. â€œNo.â€
â€œWell then.â€ I watched her slowly slide her arm back to herself and out of my range. The black smoke stayed in my trap.

I caught Eveâ€™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.

â€œI owe you nothing,â€ I said.

â€œNo, you donâ€™t, but youâ€™d like something, wouldnâ€™t you?â€

Eveâ€™s question hit the nail on the head. I did want something. Answers. It was like she saw right through me. I wouldnâ€™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.

â€œWhat do you want?â€ she asked and went back to her game of chess.

â€œTell me about the hunter.â€
â€œDo you mean the one you know in this age, or the one who stopped us all from returning to Paradise.â€
â€œYou cannot return if you were never there.â€
â€œSemantics.â€
â€œNo, you act as though youâ€™re one of us, but you arenâ€™t.â€

She pressed her lips tight.

â€œYou keep saying. So, which hunterâ€”the new or the old?â€ She used a pawn to capture my knight.

Now, that knight needed to be avenged. I couldnâ€™t help but sit opposite her and capture the offending pawn with my bishop. â€œYou tell me.â€
â€œMarc, Marc, Marc. There is no need to be so cryptic with me. I know more than you think.â€
â€œYou started it.â€

Eve clicked her tongue as though I were a recalcitrant pisser. â€œAll right. A truce then. Iâ€™ll tell you something, and then I expect you to do the same.â€
â€œOoh, yes, Iâ€™ve played this game before. You show me yours and Iâ€™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?â€

A muscle near Eveâ€™s eyes twitched. â€œBy him, Iâ€™m assuming you mean the hunter?â€
â€œOf course.â€ Boring, witch, this was getting rather tedious.

â€œYes, this is true. It was me.â€
â€œHow. Why?â€

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.

â€œYou 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, itâ€™s quite the opposite. To understand the why and the how, I must first take you back to the beginning.â€

I stifled a yawn. I hated long winded stories. Much more of an action man myself. â€œGive me the Cliffâ€™s Notes version, yeah?â€

Her eyebrow arched as she tilted her head my way. She had a way she wanted this to play out, and I wasnâ€™t having a bar of it.

â€œI havenâ€™t got all day, witch,â€ 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 Iâ€™d just gotten the best feather massage a bloke had ever seen.

â€œThat all you got?â€

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.

â€œThere she is.â€ I laughed in a throaty voice, pretending to be affected by her strike. â€œCâ€™mon, love, show me what you really think.â€

Her face trembled and her splayed fingers vibrated. Good. Give it up.

â€œIâ€™m thinking I wonâ€™t tell you anything anymore,â€ she spat. â€œIâ€™m thinking you are a waste of space, Gamekeeper, and Iâ€™ll be doing the world a favor by getting rid of you.â€

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, â€œNo. Please. No. Oh my, whatever will I do?â€

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 sheâ€™d be lost, dispersed into chaos, nothing but a memory. Just like her black smoked friend.

â€œI must admit, love, that was easier than I thought,â€ I said into her ear. â€œI mean, really.â€

She swallowed beneath the touch of my fingers.

â€œNow,â€ 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. â€œTell me why you split the hunterâ€™s soul and hid him from us.â€

She straightened her back and faced me.

â€œCome now, love. You know Iâ€™m one of the most powerful beings in existence. No need to simper like that.â€
â€œIf you are so powerful, why are you leashed to this planet as her lapdog?â€

Anger boiled beneath my skin. â€œIâ€™m nobodyâ€™s lapdog.â€

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.

â€œI did it to save his life,â€ she said.

â€œAnd why would you go and do a thing like that?â€
â€œBecause he saved mine.â€
â€œAre you telling me, that the bleeding hunter of witches actually spawned the whores of evolution himself?â€
â€œThatâ€™s a gross overgeneralization but, yes, thatâ€™s fairly close.â€

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.

â€œAnd where is his true body?â€ I continued, pretending to play along.

â€œGone.â€
â€œWhat do you mean, gone?â€
â€œI mean it was destroyed.â€ Her aura stayed steady. Truth.

â€œAll right. How do you know that?â€
â€œI was there, of course.â€ Truth.

â€œAnd how did you do it, then? How did you split his soul?â€

This was where Eveâ€™s aura faltered. She hesitated, took a deep breath and sat down heavily at the chair opposite the chess table.

â€œCare to elaborate?â€ I prompted.

â€œNot really, for if I do, my last and final secret will be out.â€

I arched an eyebrow. â€œDo I look like I care?â€
â€œFine. Being one of the Queenâ€™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.â€

Truth. Interesting. â€œBoring. Get to the good bit.â€

Even spluttered and huffed. â€œYouâ€™re a pompous, egotistical, misogynisticâ€”â€

I held up my other hand. â€œSpare me the theatrics, love. Iâ€™m out of patience.â€
â€œFine. To cut the long story short, I wasnâ€™t happy being confined to this planet. She thought I was ignorant, but I wasnâ€™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 didnâ€™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 Queenâ€™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 Iâ€™d learned from the book.â€
â€œAnd by Dark-Lord, Iâ€™m assuming you mean the Prince.â€
â€œDonâ€™t be daft. The Prince died. I meant Urser.â€
â€œDead? I thought he was hiding. And Urser?â€
â€œDead as a doorknob.â€

Well, that was unexpected. Stillâ€¦ I couldnâ€™t tell if it was a lie or truth.

â€œLove, now out with the truth.â€

She cast a wary eye at me. â€œThat was the truth.â€

I inhaled deeply. I really was getting tired of this. Why did people even bother to argue with me? â€œDo I have to torture you, really?â€
â€œI donâ€™t know what you mean.â€
â€œYou lied. About being the one who split his soul.â€

She was silent.

I put pressure on her energy with mine.

â€œFine. He did it himself. You happy now? He set himself on fire and split his own soul, all by himself.â€

I was right, of course I was happy. Sort of. A queasy feeling rolled in my stomach. I didnâ€™t want to ask the next question. â€œHow do we tie his soul back to his original body if itâ€™s gone?â€

A slow, evil smile curved up Eveâ€™s face, but she stayed silent.

â€œYou know donâ€™t you?â€ I accused. â€œWith all the experiments youâ€™ve done to our kind, you know.â€

Her smile grew.

Air rushed out of my lungs. â€œFine. What do you want?â€
â€œYou know what I want.â€
â€œDeal.â€ We shook hands. â€œBut I take no responsibility for what happens to your soul after you arrive in the Empire.â€
â€œYou need his blood,â€ Eve conceded. â€œOr her blood. I heard they were soulmates. That meant they had similar genetic markers.â€
â€œAre you fucking having a laugh?â€

At that moment she did, but she continued, â€œIf 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.â€
â€œAnd thatâ€™s it? Nothing you need to say, no chanty chant, or hocus-pocus?â€
â€œYour girl has the Book of the Dead. Sheâ€™ll know.â€

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Cash

MY TWO HANDS slipped behind Rooâ€™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 thatâ€™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 Iâ€™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 couldnâ€™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.

â€œI missed you,â€ 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.

â€œThere hasnâ€™t been a day I didnâ€™t think of you,â€ I said. â€œHell, no, there wasnâ€™t an hour, a minute, that went by without you in my thoughts. Youâ€™re all I think of, Roo, and I tried to deny it, but I canâ€™t do it anymore.â€
â€œWhy would you deny it?â€ Her breath hitched.

â€œBecause Iâ€™m no good for you. I know thatâ€™s a horrible clichÃ©, but itâ€™s all Iâ€™ve got.â€ I pulled my gaze from her. â€œThe things Iâ€™ve done. Especially to you.â€
â€œIs that why you avoided me for the past week?â€ Her gentle touch on my chin pulled my gaze back to her hardened eyes. â€œThere is nothing more despised in this universe than me. If there is anyone not worthy, it is me. Iâ€™m a Soul-Eater, Cash. Case in point.â€
â€œYet, youâ€™re new to this reality. Iâ€™ve got eons of sin dripping from me.â€
â€œIf you were so bad, then your aura wouldnâ€™t be so light. No. Itâ€™s me who is dark. Itâ€™s me who will taint you with what I am.â€

She stiffened beneath me, signaling she was about to pull away, but I held tight, hands fisting in her hair.

â€œIâ€™ve told you I donâ€™t believe that.â€
â€œBut itâ€™s true, Iâ€™ve devoured souls.â€
â€œPerhaps we are made for each other,â€ I mumbled. â€œBecause my soul is yours for the taking.â€

Before she could grumble about my second horrible clichÃ©, 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 couldnâ€™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.

â€œFinally.â€ Roo pulled back and smiled. â€œYou took long enough. Not about me taking your soul because I wonâ€™t do that. I mean, you took long enough about theâ€”â€

I kissed her. â€œWith this, Iâ€™ll take as long as I can.â€ 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 hadnâ€™t felt like this sinceâ€¦ sinceâ€¦ Her.

â€œYou have no idea how much I want this, but weâ€™re going to be late.â€ She patted my shoulder while my lips trailed down her neckline. I wasnâ€™t done. On the way back up, I licked a line to her lobe and she shivered.

â€œFuck late,â€ 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 Iâ€™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 meâ€”

â€œWhatâ€™s that?â€ she said.

â€œThe cups.â€
â€œNo, that other sound.â€
â€œDonâ€™t care.â€ I kissed her above her breast.

â€œI heard a sound.â€ She straightened herself and pushed at my shoulders until I drew away. â€œAnd I can sense an aura. A familiar one. There.â€

Someone knocked at the door.

Roo squeaked.

The haze covering my mind cleared.

Jed shouldnâ€™t be back yet. How much time had passed? I checked the clock on the wall. Perhaps he had figured out Iâ€™d lied about the job. Iâ€™d only wanted him out of the house. Yes, I was a bastard, but Iâ€™d deal with that later.

â€œIâ€™ll get it,â€ 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 Iâ€™d roused her that way.

A grin broke out on my face.

I didnâ€™t notice who was on the other side of the door until it was too late.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Marc

WHEN THE DOOR opened, I did not expect what I found. The sight of Little Redâ€™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.

â€œYou knocked.â€ Her eyes were wide with disbelief.

â€œWell, Iâ€™m not a complete degenerate. I do have manners, you know. I thought thatâ€™s what you wanted.â€
â€œYes, but, you never knock. You justâ€â€”she made a gesture with her fingersâ€”â€œpoof, you appear.â€

My eyebrow arched. â€œLove, please tell me you didnâ€™t call me a poof.â€
â€œAhâ€¦â€
â€œNot that thereâ€™s anything wrong with that. I have no qualms with a well timed orgy from time to time, but I detest the word.â€
â€œThatâ€™s not what I meant.â€ She glanced over her shoulder, preoccupied. It was then I noticed her usually abundantly sensual and flowing hair was messed up.

â€œSorry, love, am I interrupting?â€ 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?

â€œWhat do you want, Marc?â€

The hunterâ€™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.

Theyâ€™d beenâ€¦ 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, Iâ€™d wear something similar.

I frowned again. I had no right to be, but the thought of them doing â€˜itâ€™ drove me mad. I didnâ€™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 Cashâ€™s hard stare. â€œI need to speak with you.â€

Cash checked the clock on the wall behind them and then sighed, stepping to the right. A gap opened up. â€œCome in.â€

I stepped across the threshold, walked near the kitchen bench, and noticed paper littered across the floor along with debris of some sort.

â€œYou said you had a third person living here, yeah?â€ I queried, choosing to ignore the mess.

â€œHeâ€™s out,â€ Cash said and pulled up next to me where he folded his arms and leant a hip on the bench.

â€œRight. So then, Little Red, I should probably let you know the spy has been dealt with. No need to proceed with Operation Scarab.â€ I touched the side of my nose with the tip of my finger as I looked at her.

â€œOh good. To be honest, I kind of forgot. Those notes were for Cash and something unrelated.â€
â€œOh,â€ I said. â€œBecause of his terminal condition, you mean?â€
â€œWhat?â€ Roo stepped back, away from Cash, away from me.

Cash cursed under his breath.

â€œYou didnâ€™t tell her, you cheeky sod,â€ I said.

â€œWhatâ€™s he talking about, Cash?â€ Roo asked.

â€œItâ€™s nothing.â€
â€œBollocks. Bertram told me.â€ 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.

â€œAsshole.â€ Fierceness flared in Cashâ€™s eyes and he shoved me in the chest.

â€œCareful now, hunter. I mean, I knew you had a death wish, but you donâ€™t want to go there, mate, really.â€

Cashâ€™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 hadnâ€™t seen him and he caught me unawares. Iâ€™d forgotten how quick he was. I dropped back a pace or two. He shoved me again. Lucky shot.

â€œRight. Thatâ€™s how you want to play it then, yeah?â€ 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. â€œHoc est bellum, hey Marc?â€

Those words hadnâ€™t been muttered in years. Thousands.

â€œWhy did you say that?â€ I asked, pausing my fist in the air.

â€œOne of Urserâ€™s men uttered it to me before he died. I thought it appropriate in this case.â€
â€œBloody Hell. Didnâ€™t see that coming.â€ I stood down, urging my rage to release and let go. I scrutinized the hunterâ€™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 sodâ€™s head off, he wasnâ€™t my enemy. Far from it.

â€œThis is war. You know thatâ€™s what you said, yeah?â€

Cash looked at me like I was barmy. â€œOf course I did. Why else would I say it?â€
â€œDid you also remember that when spoken between our kind, itâ€™s an actual declaration of war?â€
â€œI was justâ€¦â€
â€œIâ€™m not talking about you and me, Iâ€™m talking about that bloody Urser soldier. Use your head, hunter, think!â€
â€œDamn.â€
â€œThatâ€™s right, civil war. Itâ€™s here.â€

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 Simonsâ€”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.

â€œCan somebody tell me, what the hell is going on?â€ Rooâ€™s voice amplified in pitch as it filled the room, bringing our attention to her.

Magnificent, I marveled. Sheâ€™d instinctively used her power in her voice. Definitely not a Soul-Eater then, I thought, distracted. Unless she stole that ability off someone. Iâ€™d be utterly and truly devastated if she were one of those bloody parasites. Sure, sheâ€™d be handy in the coming war, but, what a waste.

â€œDo I have to repeat myself?â€ Rooâ€™s wild eyes darted between us.

â€œGo on then, hunter, tell her the other juicy tid-bit you left out.â€

Cashâ€™s eyes shuttered, and the air deflated in his chest. â€œIâ€™m dying,â€ he said without opening his eyes.

â€œWhat?â€ Roo choked, taking a step toward him. â€œThatâ€™s impossible. What do you mean? Shit. Have I done something?â€ She blinked at her hands. â€œWas it me touching you?â€
â€œNo, love, itâ€™s not you. What he means is that his simple Simon shell is failing. Heâ€™ll be returning to the Empire shortly.â€
â€œBut, why didnâ€™t you tell me?â€ Roo stepped away when Cash moved towards her. â€œYou came here, and youâ€¦ you lied.â€
â€œI didnâ€™t lie, I wasâ€”â€
â€œYou were going to quit, is what you were going to do,â€ 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. â€œHow did you know?â€
â€œGod-of-the-in-between.â€ I pointed at myself and rolled my eyes. Really. How many times did I have to remind these people? â€œI can sense when people are close to crossing.â€
â€œBullshit.â€
â€œAlright. It was Betram.â€
â€œYou were going to quit? As inâ€¦ suicide?â€ Roo slid herself onto the edge of a stool. â€œI need to sit down.â€
â€œI didnâ€™t tell you because I changed my mind.â€ Cash gave me a pleading look, and bloody hell if it didnâ€™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. â€œBe kind, for everyone is fighting a hard battle.â€ Or did I get that from a wrapper around those little mints?

I sighed. â€œRight. I apologize for my big mouth. I forgot about that part. You have no body to return to.â€
â€œThis is so messed up.â€ Roo swiped her wet eyes. â€œI canâ€™t lose you nowâ€¦ Iâ€¦â€ 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 fatherâ€™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 didnâ€™t like seeing her this way. Desolate and hopeless. It wasnâ€™t right.

â€œDonâ€™t worry, love, weâ€™ll think of something.â€
â€œSo what can we do? How long do you have?â€ Roo locked eyes on Cash.

â€œDonâ€™t know,â€ he said. â€œCould 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 Iâ€™ll burn through my body. Itâ€™s not exactly like I can stop smelling or sensing things.â€

I snorted. â€œDefinitely donâ€™t go using that flaming sword thingy then. Any expended energy will tax your body.â€

Cash stopped short. â€œWhat sword?â€
â€œYou know, the one you used toâ€¦ I thought you said your memories were returning.â€
â€œIn dribs and drabs.â€
â€œMate.â€ A smile inched up the side of my face. â€œYou 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.â€

They both stared at me dumbly.

â€œWhat? Havenâ€™t you ever heard â€˜itâ€™s all fair in love and warâ€™? Who do you think that came from?â€

Silence from the two of them echoed in the air.

â€œRight. Well, youâ€™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. Câ€™mon people. I told you all this back in Australia. Didnâ€™t I?â€

Rooâ€™s eyes darted from side to side and a frown creased her brow. â€œActually, I think you did mention the Archangel, but for some reason, I got stuck on the Egyptian mythology. Or was it Roman? Iâ€™m getting so confused.â€
â€œItâ€™s all bloody the same, isnâ€™t it, love? Different tales, same story.â€
â€œBut we donâ€™t know all that! You know that! Maybe if you told us exactly what happened all those years ago, youâ€™d save us a lot of trouble. Why canâ€™t you people all just write one book about what you did, instead of five million?â€
â€œNo need to get snarky. And besides, we donâ€™t write the books, our believers do.â€
â€œWhy did you come here, Marc?â€ Cash asked, jaw clenched. â€œI canâ€™t believe it was to screw everything up for me. There had to be another reason.â€
â€œYes. Thatâ€™s right. I came here to tell you I spoke with that witchâ€â€”I flinched at the wordâ€”â€œwho helped you disappear in the first place. Rather ironic really.â€
â€œDoes she know where my real body is?â€
â€œShe said you split your soul by yourself.â€
â€œHow does that help us?â€ Roo asked.

I shrugged. I didnâ€™t have all the answers.

â€œArenâ€™t you supposed to be more invested in Players? Shouldnâ€™t this be your jobâ€”to help him with this stuff?â€ Little Redâ€™s temper flared, giving her an invigorating flush.

â€œWhat do you think Iâ€™ve been doing, love, and besides, I was never charged with protecting Players. Itâ€™s my job to protect the Simons. Making sure Players donâ€™t step out of line is part of that.â€
â€œSo you donâ€™t give a shit what happens to Cash?â€
â€œHeâ€™ll survive.â€

A strangled scream ripped from her lungs and shook the walls. She launched to her feet, fists clenching at her side. â€œBetween the two of you, I donâ€™t know why I bother. Youâ€™re both bloody arrogant assholes who only care about yourselves.â€

She stormed toward the door.

â€œWhere do you think you are going?â€ Cash snapped.

â€œTo the car. Weâ€™re late for a funeral,â€ she shot back.

But when she opened the door, someone was waiting for her.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

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 boyâ€™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.

â€œWhere is it?â€ James spat.

â€œWhere is what?â€ 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.

â€œYou stole it. You took it from me. I need more.â€ Jamesâ€™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.

â€œItâ€™s gone, James. Thereâ€™s none left.â€
â€œYouâ€™re lying. I smell it on you.â€

The fact that he could smell something like that was a testament to new abilities he shouldnâ€™t have as a human. Which posed the question, what was he becoming?

â€œI had it, but itâ€™s gone.â€

A wail ripped from him and he sunk to his knees, fingers raking down my front, cutting into me with new claws. â€œBut Iâ€™m so hungry.â€

Roo ducked under my arm and knelt beside the boy. â€œItâ€™s okay. Iâ€™ll get you some food.â€
â€œRoo, get back.â€

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 Rooâ€™s shoulder.

â€œNo!â€ I punched him in the temple, knocking him out. He fell in her arms, a dead weight.

â€œNo more!â€ Roo held her trembling hand in the air, too late. â€œHeâ€™s sick. I can fix him, stop. Please, no more.â€

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 Marcâ€™s blue eyes, hoping heâ€™d allay my confusion.

The godâ€™s face turned white, and he held the same cocktail of expression: shock, recognition and fear, all rolled into one.

â€œFuck.â€ The word fell from my mouth.

â€œAre you thinking what Iâ€™m thinking, mate?â€ 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, heâ€™d heard the Queen proclaim to be able to fix them.

â€œHow can we be sure?â€ I replied.

Unaware of what conspired between Marc and I, Roo touched her palm on the poor boyâ€™s chest, holding him steady. She met our gazes with defiant eyes.

â€œHeâ€™s just a boy,â€ she whispered. â€œThereâ€™s something off with is aura. I canâ€™t explain it, but, maybe itâ€™s the book in me, maybe itâ€™s something else. I think I can fix him. I know I can. Heâ€™s innocent.â€

She leant in to listen to Jamesâ€™s breath. â€œHeâ€™s breathing,â€ she mumbled, and kept checking for signs of health.

Air rushed out of Marcâ€™s flared nostrils, and when he returned his gaze to me, he spoke softly under his breath. â€œI know her true name.â€
â€œSay it.â€

In slow motion and with anticipation pulling the air thick, together, we studied Roo as Marc whispered one word: â€œSeraphina.â€

A wave of tremors tore over her body as she clearly felt the sensation caused by a Seraphimâ€™s true name being called. Surprised at her bodyâ€™s reaction, she was unaware the effect came from Marcâ€™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 sheâ€™d nearly fainted, but weâ€™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. â€œShe mustnâ€™t know.â€

Marcâ€™s wide eyes blinked at him. The tendons in his jaw ticked as he clearly thought over something. â€œI donâ€™t like lying to her,â€ he breathed.

I gave him a reproachful look. â€œWe have no choice. Sheâ€™s a sitting duck.â€

It seemed like an age before either of us breathed, and it wasnâ€™t until Roo snapped us out of our stasis that we moved. â€œWell, Marc, Cash? Did you hear what I said?â€
â€œSorry, love, what did you say?â€
â€œShould we take him back to your clinic, Cash, or should I have a go at fixing him?â€

I snapped back into focus. â€œYes, they might have formulated an antidote.â€
â€œPerfect,â€ Roo said. â€œMarc, youâ€™ll be the quickest there. Why donâ€™t you go and check?â€
â€œYes, love. Right on it.â€ Marc held my arm and moved us both so our backs were to her. He lowered his voice for my ears only. â€œYou may be right. She canâ€™t know until sheâ€™s in full control of her memories. I will have to go back and confirm her body is safe. Who knows whatâ€™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. Itâ€™s impertinent you watch her at all times.â€
â€œI wonâ€™t leave her side.â€
â€œIf she takes a piss, I want you there.â€

My teeth ground. â€œI get it.â€
â€œDo you?â€ Marcâ€™s eyes flashed. â€œBecause if Iâ€™m not mistaken, hunter, you were about to quit. There is nothing more vital than protecting her. Without her, the Empire is in ruin. Sheâ€™s the only thing holding the warring territories at bay. Her and this bloody game.â€ His eyes ran over my body, assessing. â€œHow long do you have, again?â€
â€œBertram is uncertain. A year, more or less.â€
â€œRight. I will be back long before then. Oh, andâ€¦ thereâ€™s something else.â€

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. â€œWhat is it?â€ My eyes returned to Marc.

The godâ€™s appearance flickered to his younger self with alarm painted over his face. â€œI was followed.â€

I stiffened. â€œHere?â€
â€œNo. Earlier.â€
â€œIâ€™m yet to see the relevance.â€
â€œIt was when I took her with me to the barâ€”through the in-between.â€

Realization dawned on me. â€œTheyâ€™ll know about her. Whoever it was following you, theyâ€™ll know. Well, at least that sheâ€™s not who she says she is.â€

Marc nodded solemnly. â€œI screwed up.â€
â€œGuys!â€ Roo urged, interrupting them.

â€œGoing, pet.â€ 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 didnâ€™t know what to do. Thoughts escaped me. My world had just been turned on its head. All that remained was residual awe. The naÃ¯ve, innocent woman I wanted to indecently devour an hour ago was the almighty, all powerful Queen sitting in half-human body. The same reverence Iâ€™d felt in my dream seeped into my bones. No wonder Iâ€™d felt the way I had when around her. Iâ€™d loved her through eternity.

Flashes of the people I killed flickered past my eyes and a grinding feeling twisted my gut. Iâ€™d loved her, but in the end, Iâ€™d hated who I had become for her.

Today, I wasnâ€™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 wouldnâ€™t let her put either of us in the position where we had to eradicate a world to erase a mistake.

â€œDonâ€™t just stand there looking like youâ€™re trying to figure out the number brown, get over here and help me position him before he wakes. Letâ€™s move him to the gym mat.â€

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.

â€œHere, put his head here.â€

I gently lowered the boy.

â€œIf thereâ€™s no antidote, then Iâ€™m going to make one,â€ 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 boyâ€™s condition from her these past few days. Not because she was the Queen, but because we were partners. Weâ€™d worked well together in Australia to defeat the witch, and weâ€™d done that by trusting each other. Now sheâ€™s trusting my methods. Sheâ€™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 boyâ€™s body bowed into the air and his hands curled up, tight, seizing.

â€œShit, we canâ€™t wait for Marc. Heâ€™s changing. Look at his skin.â€ It rippled with something underneath it. I remembered the way the Queenâ€™s creations had looked in the endâ€”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. â€œGet me a knife, and Iâ€™ll cut him.â€

My hand shot out and gripped her wrist. â€œNo. Not your blood. You canâ€™t mix yours with his.â€

She wrenched it out of the way. â€œI donâ€™t care if weâ€™ll be linked. Blood is more powerful than saliva, and Iâ€™m not kissing him. Heâ€™s basically a child.â€
â€œBut, Rooâ€¦â€
â€œNo. Get me a knife.â€

I shook my head.

She made a frustrated sound and picked up the boyâ€™s arm. She couldnâ€™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.

â€œI canâ€™t let you do that.â€ I captured her wrist again and pulled her back. Blood smeared on the boyâ€™s arm.

She growled at me with furious eyes and twisted out of me grip. â€œItâ€™s not up to you.â€
â€œBut this is bad for you. Youâ€™re risking your wellbeing for this boy. Youâ€™ll be infected with this disease and it could drag you down the evolutionary chain.â€ 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.

â€œIâ€™m already doomed to devolve into nothing. Soul-Eater, remember?â€ She pointed an accusatory finger at herself.

â€œIâ€™ve told you before, youâ€™re not a Soul-Eater.â€
â€œYes, I am.â€
â€œYou should wait for Marc, he wonâ€™t be long.â€
â€œWhat do you care? Youâ€™re leaving!â€
â€œIâ€™m notâ€¦ Iâ€”â€ My words died in my throat.

â€œAnyway, I refuse to believe helping someone in need will be a punishment. Thereâ€™s no way the universe can look poorly on that!â€ With her last word, Roo turned her back on me and placed her hand gently on the boyâ€™s wound.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Marc

I RETRIEVED THE antidote from the hunterâ€™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 wasnâ€™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 Redâ€”I mean Sephieâ€¦ ahâ€¦ my brain stalled. I wasnâ€™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, sheâ€™d been a husk of a woman. Sheâ€™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. Iâ€™d known Sephie since she was a child, and that was not normal. I thought she was withering, dying, and Iâ€™d told her so. I called her a coward and said I wouldnâ€™t stick around to watch her fade. She didnâ€™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 hadnâ€™t returned. Not once. Perhaps that made me the coward, but she had broken my heart. Our life long friendship hadnâ€™t been enough to bring her back. I hadnâ€™t been enough.

I walked up to the counter and held up the clear bubble of liquid Iâ€™d received from Bertram back at the clinic. The vial containing it had dissipated in the in-between, but Iâ€™d managed to keep it contained in my essence. I dropped it into an empty glass on the kitchen bench.

â€œThen I guess you donâ€™t need this?â€ I slid the glass at the hunter.

Cash effortlessly stopped its momentum and inspected it. â€œThis is what the lab gave you for an antidote?â€
â€œNo, itâ€™s not a cure. Itâ€™s something to treat the symptoms the poison created.â€
â€œWe donâ€™t need anything. I fixed him.â€ A proud grin broke out on Little Redâ€™s face.

I blinked. â€œIâ€™m sorry, you what?â€

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.

â€œI purged his body of theâ€¦ sludge, or whatever you want to call it.â€ She waved at the floor near the gym where the boy had been. There was a black puddle smeared across the ground. I didnâ€™t know what to think. If that wasnâ€™t the Queen standing in front of me, she was still bloody well something special.

â€œWe should probably clean it up,â€ she said. â€œDo you think itâ€™s bio-hazardous, contagious I mean? Iâ€™ll be okay, of course, but what about you guys?â€ She squinted at us.

â€œAre you checking my aura?â€ I asked.

Caught in the act she widened and averted eyes.

â€œThey think the disease was administered in doses,â€ said Cash, musing over the antidote glass. He pushed it aside in favor of his own drink. â€œSo, I donâ€™t think it would be contagious.â€
â€œNo offense,â€ said Roo, â€œbut that doesnâ€™t mean itâ€™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.â€

The hunter and I both gave her an incredulous look.

â€œWhat?â€ she replied innocently. â€œItâ€™s from Petraâ€™s Grimoire. I havenâ€™t actually done it. Stop looking at me as though Iâ€™ve grown two heads.â€
â€œSorry, love, itâ€™s just that you remind me of someone.â€
â€œOh, really, who?â€

Cash choked on his drink, then tried to hide it with a cough.

â€œSomeone I need to go and check up on.â€ 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.

â€œProbably best we collect more samples of that, then.â€ I pointed to the black mess on the floor. â€œAnd the boy needs to be assessed.â€

Roo placed a gentle hand on Jamesâ€™s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. â€œItâ€™ll be fine, donâ€™t worry.â€
â€œHunter, could I see you outside, please?â€ 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 Iâ€™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.

â€œRight. We need a plan of action,â€ I started.

â€œI love how you think thereâ€™s a â€˜weâ€™ in this equation.â€
â€œAre you mocking me, hunter?â€
â€œNever.â€
â€œWeâ€™re either together on this, or we arenâ€™t.â€
â€œIâ€™m with her.â€
â€œSo am I.â€
â€œThen weâ€™re together.â€

I sighed. â€œWe should be including her in this conversation.â€
â€œShe canâ€™t be. There is no way around it. Like you said, we donâ€™t even know for sure itâ€™s her.â€
â€œI know that, but lying about this feels wrong.â€

Cash placed a hand on the back of his neck and rolled his head, cracking his bones. â€œI donâ€™t like lying either, but itâ€™s for her protection.â€
â€œYou were fine to lie about it a day ago. What changed? Oh, no, donâ€™t tell me. Of course. You did the rumpy-pumpy and now youâ€™re whipped. You canâ€™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.â€
â€œShe ordered me to do that.â€
â€œBut did she really mean it?â€
â€œI left the uninfected.â€
â€œIâ€™ve done nothing but her wishes since you cocked up everything. Iâ€™ve spent my life cleaning up your mess. If there is anyone who will lead here, itâ€™s me.â€
â€œAnd what, exactly, do you think Iâ€™ve been doing? Having a picnic, or a walk in the park, perhaps? No. Iâ€™ve fucking been gathering the pieces of my broken soul for millennia. A soul that was broken to save this fucking mess.â€
â€œExactly. Youâ€™re broken. Iâ€™m not.â€
â€œYou dare to question my abilitiesâ€¦â€ His voice trailed off, and he dropped his arms to his side. â€œYouâ€™re right.â€
â€œOf course Iâ€™m bloody well right. You may have been the strong one back then, but all Iâ€™ve been doing for the last few thousand years is damage control. I think Iâ€™ve learned a thing or two.â€
â€œWhat do you need me to do?â€
â€œJustâ€¦ just sit tight until Iâ€™m back. Can you do that?â€

Cashâ€™s nostrils flared, he grit his teeth and nodded.

â€œThereâ€™s a good lad. Iâ€™ll send help for when you get to The Ludus in Sydney.â€
â€œI donâ€™t think thatâ€™s wise. We shouldnâ€™t be sharing this information with anyone.â€
â€œShe wonâ€™t know the full details. Sheâ€™ll just think sheâ€™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 Urserâ€™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?â€
â€œOf course.â€

I sighed and rubbed my eyes. â€œIâ€™ll go and give a few instructions to The Ludus about the trials. I donâ€™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.â€
â€œVia, veritas, vita.â€ Cashâ€™s words hadnâ€™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.

â€œVia, veritas, vita,â€ I murmured, then added, â€œVivat Regina.â€ 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 Iâ€™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.

â€œAbout bloody time.â€ Jacineâ€™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. â€œI know itâ€™s been a while, but I had no idea these would build up so much.â€
â€œA while? Try decades, Marc. And what did you expect? These souls wonâ€™t be happy when they return to their bodies.â€
â€œI donâ€™t suppose youâ€™ve weighed any of them in front of the Tribunal, yet?â€
â€œWell, we had. But itâ€™s been a while. You might have to do them again, for due diligence.â€

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 weâ€™d kept the evil confined to this planet because weâ€™d checked, quarantined, and checked again. And with the new threat of its rebirth, I couldnâ€™t take a chance. But honestly. â€œThereâ€™s got to be over a hundred here.â€
â€œTry a thousand, Marc.â€
â€œBollocks.â€
â€œDonâ€™t use that tone with me.â€

I scrubbed my face. Perhaps it had been longer than I thought since my last trip. â€œAll right, all right. I accept this as my fault. As long as you said theyâ€™ve been weighed, Iâ€™ll give you that. Besides, this lot looks clear to me. Theyâ€™ll get assessed again upon entry to the Empire, so Iâ€™m sure it will be fine.â€
â€œCâ€™mon, then. How many can you safely carry?â€

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. â€œIâ€™d say perhaps around a hundred, give or take.â€
â€œIs that all?â€
â€œIf I take anymore, thereâ€™s a risk I canâ€™t safely contain them in my aura. Even though this is a new polymer blend type glass, itâ€™s still not fully organic and nowhere near as advanced as the oneâ€™s from the Empire. Even those disintegrate after a time. Perhaps you should liaise with the hunter and his team. Theyâ€™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, theyâ€™re tangled in the universe.â€ I shivered at the thought. The whole damned lot of them would wind up a mish-mash of atoms, including me.

â€œAre you saying you are in danger, dove?â€ Call me crazy, but to me, Jacine appeared concerned. She stepped towards me, a crease formed in her smooth brow. â€œHas this always been the case, no matter how many you carry?â€

I recognized an ego stroke when I saw one. And I accepted. I flicked imaginary dust off my shoulder and shrugged. â€œItâ€™s nothing.â€
â€œRubbish. You risk your life daily for her and what does she give you in gratitude? A lifetime of servitude.â€
â€œJacine,â€ I warned, but without resolve.

â€œDove.â€
â€œPet.â€
â€œTell me youâ€™ll think about it.â€ She was inches from me now, but respectfully distant. She moistened her lips, and it reminded me of a time when Iâ€™d done that for her. â€œYou owe her nothing,â€ she said.

â€œPlease stop talking like that.â€
â€œI miss you,â€ she added, hopeful.

â€œAnd I, you, love.â€
â€œCanâ€™t you perhaps put me in one of these spheres, and I can come with you?â€
â€œWhat, and give up your corporeal body?â€

She shrugged hopelessly. â€œAt this point, I donâ€™t even care.â€
â€œBut youâ€™ve spent eons enhancing those three-dimensional molecules. That body has been primed for evolutionary upgrades. If you leave all that behind, youâ€™d be starting at the beginning, and thatâ€™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 disintegraâ€”â€
â€œYes!â€ Jacine cut me off. â€œI know all that, butâ€”â€
â€œBut the fact remains the same. She comes first and always has. I have a feeling this will be over soon. Youâ€™ll get your just rewards. Wait a little longer.â€ As the words came out of my mouth, I knew with absolute certainty that Iâ€™d never betray Sephie. Never. I was in her corner until the end, even if she didnâ€™t know it.

Jacine turned away, the hurt in her eyes palpable. â€œFor once, Iâ€™d like to come first.â€

Her words broke the temporary hold she had over me, and I laughed. â€œThe Goddess of Love never coming first? Un-bloody-believable.â€
â€œShut up.â€
â€œIâ€™ll bet you came first many times over.â€ I wiggled my eyebrows.

â€œI said, shut up.â€ Jacine gathered a silver tray and began counting spheres onto it. Each had a little name tag that dangled when it moved.

â€œIn 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 Iâ€™m a bit hazy on that.â€

She tried to hide her smile rather unsuccessfully.

I joined her counting out the baubles and said quietly, â€œJacine? Iâ€™ll talk to the Queen. And in the mean time, thereâ€™s something I need you to do for me. It will go a long way to help prove that youâ€™ve done your penance.â€

She glanced at me from the corner of my eye.

â€œThis is of the utmost importance. Iâ€™m giving you leave to exit the London Ludus.â€

Now she fully turned to face me, focus etched on her features. â€œReally?â€
â€œYes. I agree with you, youâ€™ve been down here long enough. I think youâ€™ve learned your lesson about fraternizing with and manipulating the Simons.â€
â€œI have.â€
â€œRight, soâ€¦â€ I stalled and licked my lips.

Jacine placed warm her hand on mine. â€œWhat is it?â€
â€œThere is someone who needs protection and help.â€

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 itâ€™s possible Little Red would be safe as a sideways result. With my absence, I didnâ€™t want to take any chances. I couldnâ€™t live with myself if I returned and Little Red was gone. Iâ€™d already been complacent and negligent. Now someone had discovered she could move through the in-between with me.

â€œMarc?â€ Jacine said.

â€œJacine, this is highly confidential. If you do this, I have no doubt that you will be rewarded heavily.â€
â€œIâ€™m listening.â€
â€œThe hunter needs your protection.â€
â€œThe hunter?â€ She frowned. â€œWhatâ€™s so special about him?â€
â€œHeâ€™s the Queenâ€™s enforcer, reborn.â€

For a moment, Jacineâ€™s eyes looked inwards as she tried to make the relevant connections. When she caught Marcâ€™s eyes, her own were glistening. â€œOh my gods, heâ€™s alive.â€
â€œExactly. You can see how protecting him and following his orders will please the Queen.â€

Her hand fluttered to her throat. â€œYes. I know more than anyone what that relationship meant.â€

I had no doubt she spoke the truth. I could see it in her aura and knew sheâ€™d always been able to sense the emotions related to love, but I didnâ€™t give two-hoots about that love. I only wanted Sephie protected, and this was the best way to do it.

â€œYou follow his orders, no matter what, yes?â€
â€œYou can trust me with his life.â€

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.

â€œGood. Iâ€™m also reinstating your status to the Tribunal. You wonâ€™t just be a member, but a leader. Youâ€™ll have sway. And-ahâ€¦ you wonâ€™t need me to think about you-know-what anymore, yeah?â€

Her eyes widened, and she looked away. I couldnâ€™t be sure but I thought I saw a tear in her eye.

â€œJacine, you donâ€™t still want me toâ€¦â€

She sighed. â€œMarc, itâ€™s just that Iâ€™m done with this false life. And I want to start a family. A real one, not a soulless one that getâ€™s used up for this stupid Game.â€
â€œWell, you know who to blame for that, donâ€™t you?â€
â€œYes.â€ The malice in her eyes was clear.

â€œBloody tosser Prince. Maybe start the process in uncovering his whereabouts too.â€

I considered sharing Eveâ€™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. â€œRight. These have been weighed. You can start here. When you come back, Iâ€™ll have the team get another lot ready before I go.â€
â€œCheers, love.â€
â€œIâ€™ll see you when you get back.â€

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 didnâ€™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 Iâ€™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. Sheâ€™d pounded her fists on my chest, sheâ€™d screamed obscenities at me, she even used her power on me but Iâ€™d shifted to another spot every time. Wordlessly, Iâ€™d taken her fury because thatâ€™s all I knew to do. Just like when we were young, and sheâ€™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 didnâ€™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 dayâ€”one hour!â€”sheâ€™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. Iâ€™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 Iâ€™d be responsible for the loss of lives so fundamental that Iâ€™d devolve like the Soul-Eaters did. Iâ€™d lose the advantage Iâ€™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 Auroraâ€™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 forwardâ€”home.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Cash

THE TOWN CAR pulled into the driveway of my familyâ€™s old plantation home. It was heritage listed and situated on fifty acres of sprawling meadows with peach and magnolia trees. Since weâ€™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 didnâ€™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.

â€œTommy!â€ the boy cried as he zoomed passed Roo and bowled into me with an oomph!

â€œNo, buddy. Itâ€™s Cash.â€ I bent down and pulled the boy in for a hug.

â€œYou wanna play with me? I got another costume inside, letâ€™s go!â€

I grinned, kids were resilient as ever.

â€œI need to go and say hi to ma, is she inside? Roo here might play with you.â€

I enjoyed the sight of Roo flashing her heart stopping smile at the kid. Pity it wasnâ€™t aimed at me.

â€œHey, Iâ€™m Roo. Whatâ€™s your name?â€

The boy cowered behind my legs.

â€œItâ€™s okay Augustus, she wonâ€™t bite.â€

Augustus squinted at her like a pirate. â€œShe wonâ€™t, but the others might.â€

I caught the stammer in Rooâ€™s pulse as she reacted to the boyâ€™s words. Strange. As though she was nervous about his words.

â€œI can promise you, Augustus, nobody here will bite you,â€ Roo said.

Augustus smiled and stepped out. â€œI turned five. I have new shoes. Do you want to see?â€
â€œSugar! Youâ€™re finally here.â€ 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 sheâ€™d dusted over me from her apron. I thought for a moment sheâ€™d gone gray, but realized it was the flour in her blonde hair giving her a weathered look.

â€œOh Cash, itâ€™s been too long. Too long. Iâ€™m so glad youâ€™re home.â€
â€œIâ€™m sorry we missed the funeral, ma.â€
â€œSugar, I understand,â€ 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. Iâ€™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.

â€œOh 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 didnâ€™t do you justice. You might not recognize me, all covered in flour, but Iâ€™m Betsy. Well, donâ€™t just stand there, sugar, come on in and give me a hug, and then letâ€™s get out of this cold.â€ Roo blushed, and they embraced.

While she probably thought I couldnâ€™t hear, my mother said, â€œTommyâ€™s told me so much about you and Iâ€™m so blessed for you looking out for my sons.â€
â€œButâ€¦â€ Roo said, her voice trailing off. My own throat tightened. I knew what she was thinking. Tommy. She hadnâ€™t looked after him at all, but, she had. I rubbed the pain in my chest away. Sheâ€™d made me whole.

â€œDonâ€™t start,â€ my mother warned Roo. â€œI 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 weâ€™ve got.â€

I knew theyâ€™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.

â€œAugustus go and tell your father that Cash is here.â€

Augustus grabbed Rooâ€™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. â€œThatâ€™s for Tommy.â€

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.

â€œNow, not another word about it or else Iâ€™ll fall apart. I know it wasnâ€™t your fault, but goddamn it, son, Iâ€™m still devastated.â€
â€œI know, ma, Iâ€™mâ€”â€
â€œI said not another word. Letâ€™s remember Tommy fondly. Itâ€™s all I can do to keep it together. I made his favorite stew. Letâ€™s go.â€

Braised Lamb. Delicious.

She slipped her arm through mine and pulled me towards the house, and stage whispered. â€œYou didnâ€™t tell me how gorgeous she was. Itâ€™s about time you brought a girl home, honey. Itâ€™s just a pity it had to take dire circumstances for you to do it.â€
â€œItâ€™s not like that, ma. Weâ€™re just friends.â€ Hopefully. Maybe. I didnâ€™t know anymore.

â€œDonâ€™t be silly. I may be going blind but I can still see the way you look at her when you think sheâ€™s not watching, and she you. Well câ€™mon, weâ€™d better get going or else this braised lamb will up itself and walk out the kitchen.â€

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.

â€œNow, I vacated the premises for the weekend, so you can both stay in the guest room upstairs, andâ€”oh, Ray, look whoâ€™s here!â€

I shook my stepfatherâ€™s soft hand and couldnâ€™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.

â€œHowdy Cash, didnâ€™t think youâ€™d be back.â€ The insinuation was there. My mother may have forgiven me for missing the funeral, but Ray hadnâ€™t. I didnâ€™t blame him.

â€œWe had a boat load of people through after the funeral. Iâ€™d appreciate a hand to move some downstairs furniture around,â€ 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 couldnâ€™t help thinking about Rooâ€™s indifference towards me. It was more uncomfortable than anger. At least if sheâ€™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 Rooâ€™s room. I took a deep breath and held it. I didnâ€™t know what sort of reception Iâ€™d find inside. Her countenance towards me over the meal had been frosty to say the least. Sheâ€™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 Iâ€™d taken it in my stride. I hadnâ€™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. Threeâ€™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 weâ€™d be staying together.

Roo wouldnâ€™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 Rooâ€™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.

â€œHi,â€ I said.

â€œHi yourself.â€
â€œOkay, listen, can I come in?â€

She shrugged.

â€œWhat are you watching?â€
â€œYou wouldnâ€™t like it.â€
â€œI might.â€
â€œSuit yourself.â€

I stepped into the room and closed the door behind me for privacy. I felt ungraceful and as though I didnâ€™t belong, yet I didnâ€™t want to leave and I didnâ€™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, â€œI just wanted to say Iâ€™m sorry for earlier.â€ Her snort was my only response. â€œAnd I want you to know Iâ€™m not going to leave.â€

Air rushed out of her nostrils so fast they flared. She shook her head. â€œI donâ€™t know how you expect me to trust you.â€
â€œCan I sit?â€

She answered by shifting to one side of the bed without taking her eyes off the screen.

â€œHonestly, I donâ€™t deserve your trust, but Iâ€™m not going to leave.â€ I sat down on the edge of the bed. When Rooâ€™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.

â€œIâ€™m not going anywhere. Not untilâ€¦ untilâ€”â€
â€œUntil what, you die?â€
â€œYes.â€

The flickering light highlighted her newly glistening eyes, her pulse quickened.

â€œI canâ€™t evenâ€¦â€ she sighed. â€œI canâ€™t talk to you right now, Iâ€™m sorry. I need to think. Can you please go?â€

I swallowed heavily and stood.

â€œIâ€™ll go to the other room. But Iâ€™m not leaving you.â€
â€œYeah, yeah. I get it.â€

Her coldness turned the blood in my veins to ice.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

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 donâ€™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 werenâ€™t warriors, they were alchemists, cartographers, anthropologists. They didnâ€™t know what to do when their trusted soldiers turned on them in a black gritty terror. It was different with infected Seraphim, they werenâ€™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 werenâ€™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 computerâ€™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.

â€œWhat have you done?â€ Alkeimon growled from behind me.

I whirled and faced him, swords at the ready on either side of me. â€œYouâ€™re hereby quarantined to this planet by decree of the Queen. You will remain so until further notice.â€
â€œOpen it.â€
â€œI canâ€™t.â€

Behind me, shadows moved. Other Seraphim, finally prompted into action, surrounded me. These werenâ€™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.

â€œOpen it,â€ a deep voice said from behind him. I shot a glance over my shoulder and recognized a man from the brutal Ursa Constellation.

â€œIt has been destroyed,â€ I said.

A roar of defiance broke from the Princeâ€™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. â€œThen fix it.â€

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 didnâ€™t matter. Iâ€™d done my job. The Queen was safe. The Empire was safe.

â€œYou can all rot here as far as Iâ€™m concerned,â€ 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. â€œFix it.â€

I laughed through the searing white heat. â€œEven if I could, the gate will only work for one person. And that is not me.â€
â€œYou filthy man-whore,â€ spat the brat Prince.

â€œCome closer and say that.â€ 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. â€œCome closer, murderer,â€ I whispered. â€œAnd I will tell you who can open it.â€

Thatâ€™s right. I know your secret.

Alkeimonâ€™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.

â€œThatâ€™s enough,â€ a gruff voice said from somewhere beyond. All I could see was the diseased eyes of a sick man staring down at me. â€œI said, thatâ€™s enough.â€

Alkeimonâ€™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 wasnâ€™t living anymore, I felt a sense of peace, a sense I didnâ€™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 hadnâ€™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 itâ€”the violence.

At least this time I hadnâ€™t hurt anyone.

Alone.

No Roo to harm, to hug, or to keep me calm.

She was the Queen.

I didnâ€™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 Iâ€™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.

Thanks for reading my little side-book in The Game of Gods series: The Devil Inside.

If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a review. Your honest thoughts help others make purchasing decisions, not to mention give the author a warm and fuzzy.

The Game of Gods series continues with a novel told from the point of view of Roo in Playing God.

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About the Author

Lana is a freckle-faced writer from Perth, Western Australia. Sheâ€™s also a marketer, graphic designer and mum to two balls of energy in the guise of little boys. Sheâ€™s a fan of 'pro-caffeinating' and writes in many genres, including romance, comedy and speculative fiction. Basically if itâ€™s funny, has a love story and a kick-ass heroine, you know sheâ€™ll write it because she loves reading it.

When sheâ€™s not writing the next great romantic novel, or wrangling the rug rats, or rescuing GI Joe from the jaws of her Kelpie, she fights evil by moonlight, wins love by daylight and never runs from a real fight.

Visit her website lanapecherczyk.com or follow her on social media here:

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Acknowledgements

Thank you to my sister, Heidi for being the first fan of these crazy heroes and riding my coat tails and reading early works of this book. Thanks to my editor, Ann Harth for her amazing work. To my husband, Matt, for bringing me food while I write. Without him, Iâ€™d forget to feed myself. Thank you to my ART group for catching those pesky typos before the rest of the world see them. (Iâ€™m sure thereâ€™s a few more because there always is! For some reason, I can look at something a million times and still miss the typo.) To all my writer friends who keep me focused, thank you. And to the readers who love the story, youâ€™re the best!