The Game of Gods: Series Box Set

by Lana Pecherczyk

  “Do something.” I launched to my feet, head swiveling toward my father, panic closing a fist around my heart. “Lincoln is in trouble.”

  Bruce ignored me, but he heard. I knew because Ava looked my way with a tiny smile curving her lips.

  “The barrier won’t come down until the fifteen minutes is up,” Cash said. “Lincoln is on his own.”

  I growled in frustration. How could he sit so calmly while Lincoln was in danger?

  The whistle rose in pitch until everyone in the front row winced, yet my father still did nothing.

  Lincoln wreathed on the grass, hands to his ears, face screwed up, blood oozing from orifices. Crank stood over him, relentless, head cocked to the side like a mad scientist watching an experiment.

  “Bruce. Do something!” I yelled to be heard over the piercing whistle. “He’s killing him.”

  “If he can’t take fifteen minutes within the pillars, he has no business being in the Game.”

  The bottom of my stomach dropped, and I went cold. He’s written him off. Just like he did with me when he thought I was a witch instead of Nephilim. That bastard. Son of a bitch. All of it. I hated him. Truly hated him.

  “Cash!” I pleaded.

  “Only Marc can cross the barrier, Roo. I’m sorry. This isn’t unheard of. Contenders don’t always make it to Player status. Better to let this play out. Under the radar, remember?”

  My father might not care, and Cash had given up, but not me. I couldn’t watch Lincoln die while people cheered and booed. It was sickening. The perfect example of why this Game should be ended. We were temporary fixtures in these bodies, but we still had feelings. We mattered.

  I bit my lip, eyes wide, staring at the horses in the distance mostly unaffected by Crank’s audial onslaught, but the ones closest to him were restless. The worst of the sound-missile had focused on Lincoln. A glance at the Lyra mentor to my right sparked a recollection. His whistle had gone through the barrier to hit Crank. It went through. When Drew had used his thunderclap, we’d heard it from our seats, also penetrating the barrier. They said nothing could break through, but that wasn’t exactly true, sound could.

  First Drew, then the mentor, now Crank. Lyra House were all Sirens.

  Myths and legends told tales of sirens luring sailors to their deaths with song. Perhaps this was something similar. The Lyra mentor had tampered with the trial by sending a suggestion through the barrier because, initially, Crank was happy to play with Lincoln. That was until my father had nodded at the Lyra mentor.

  I couldn’t sit around waiting for Lincoln to expire. If Marc could cross that barrier, then maybe I could too. The sneaky start of a plan formed in my brain. I’d crossed the in-between with Marc before. Numerous times. My body could take it.

  Lincoln’s movements on the grass slowed. The fight left his body and his eyes locked on the horses in the distance. The Ludus system had victimized him more than anyone. It promised he’d have abilities to befit royalty, but he was born with none. He put up with living underground and he partied to numb the pain of rejection. I’d pushed through my father’s rejection with the help of my friends, Kitty and Alvin. But when your own friend turns against you, what else was there to live for? My eyes stung, and I furiously wiped the tears before anyone noticed.

  Stupid Game.

  I couldn’t let him die.

  Without warning, I jumped out of my seat. Cash reached to stop me, but I sprinted across the walkway. With a powerful surge from my thighs, I launched at the barrier, throwing my hands up to shield my face.

  Chapter 26

  The trans-astral barrier passed through me with a tickle. I’d expected resistance or pain, but there had been none. My body launched into the field like a rocket, proving my instincts rang true. A thousand sudden needles pierced my eardrums from the sound onslaught coming from Crank’s mouth. I crashed on my shoulder behind Crank. On instinct, I tucked my legs in and rolled to avoid doing major damage and then threw my hands up to block my ears, as if that would protect me. The sound wasn’t even directed my way. In a sheer moment of panic, I thought, what the hell had I done? But then my wits returned, and I used my power to stuff hardened air into my ears like virtual earplugs. Instantly, the sound softened, almost disappearing. It was enough to help me gather myself and stand on shaky feet.

  I surveyed the trees and restless horses. Manure bloomed in the air. The Ludus had disappeared—sight, scent and auras—all gone. The midday sun shone brightly on my head, warming my scalp under its touch. A movement to my right brought my head around to catch a butterfly flittering past. It really was a portal to another place.

  “Crank,” I yelled.

  He ignored me. I tried to siphon his energy, hoping to make him weak, but something blocked me. His life-force pulsed beyond my reach, as though behind a film of plastic cling-wrap. Shit. Lincoln’s life-force flickered and his body stopped moving. Adrenaline surged in my blood. I pushed and prodded Crank with my power, testing the block until I found a weak spot, a corner of the Band-Aid not stuck down. I ripped it off and yanked on his energy, soaking it up. A tidal wave of life smashed into me and I staggered with the hit.

  Crank sagged and faltered.

  He stopped whistling.

  “Crank,” I yelled again. This time, he turned around. He shook his head as though waking from a daze.

  I eased the air out of my ears, but held firm to his energy, keeping it ready and within reach in case I needed to pull on it again..

  “Roo? Where did you come from?”

  Relief coursed through me and I relaxed my assault.

  Then his face darkened. He closed the gap between us in two strides and struck me with the back of his hand.

  Agony sliced my cheekbone, and I fell to the side. Crank came at me again. My self-defense lessons kicked in and I used my low vantage position to grapple with him. His falling momentum helped me to power my roll to end on top of him. Crank’s eyes widened a fraction, his arms splayed out in shock. He brought his palms together on my head, boxing my ears painfully. God that hurt.

  My vision blurred and my eyes sprung leaks. I closed them for a second, only a second, and Crank knocked me off balance. I went face first into the muddy grass next to us.

  Retaliate, The Others cried out. Drain him. Take his life.

  Panic surged at the sound of my passengers. Lena said they were stronger when I was apart from Cash. He was in Australia and I was... somewhere else not the Ludus. If they took over my body while the crowd watched. The thought spurred me into action. I had to end this.

  I scrambled to my feet and faced Crank. We circled each other. I dared to break eye contact to check on Lincoln. His energy became steady which meant his Nephilim body repaired. He was alive. Just.

  “Stop,” I said to Crank.

  “We don’t stop until the barrier comes down,” he replied and whistled. I stuffed my ears again, to block the sound.

  “Don’t make me hurt you,” I said, advancing on him.

  He laughed. “You can’t hurt me. You’re a girl.”

  “Wrong thing to say, buddy.” I swiped the air in front of him. My newly absorbed energy snapped out of my body, eager to expend. It sliced in a razor sharp line until a red slash appeared on his chest. The bloody wound showed through his gaping shirt. There were many gifts in my repertoire. I didn’t need to escalate to soul stealing just yet.

  Crank’s hand went to his middle, testing. The shallow wound closed up, but he saw it for what it was—a warning. The next one would be worse.

  “You won, Crank. You don’t need to keep hurting us.”

  “I didn’t win if you’re alive. That’s what he said. No one but me left alive.”

  He must be his mentor. “But all the other battles had two people walking off. You can pass the trial without killing.”

  My words didn’t fit with his logic and he faltered, glancing at his friend. Registering what he’d done, he kneeled on the floor, eyes wide. Then Crank covered his face i
n his hands.

  I rushed to Lincoln, landing near his head. I felt for a pulse, just to make sure. Yes. It was there and steady.

  “Lincoln,” I whispered.

  He groaned. “I feel like I’ve been trampled by horses.”

  “Just Crank.”

  Lincoln wiped the blood from his nose, leaving a smear across his face. The look of betrayal on his face was heartbreaking.

  He’d almost died at the hand of his most trusted friend. It left me cursing the brevity and fickleness of the Game. You couldn’t trust anyone if you wanted to live.

  The trans-astral barrier came down and, suddenly, we weren’t alone. The entire auditorium at the arena came into sharp view. There should be more sound. Where was the cheering I’d heard before?

  Cash stood at the edge of the barrier, arms folded, and with a dark and furious expression. My father looked oddly triumphant from his seat.

  A hush had settled on the crowd.

  All eyes were on me.

  The rule-breaker.

  The cheater.

  I averted my gaze to prevent the prickly heat taking over my body, but it rose, itching my arms, neck, and cheeks. My fingers heated and sparked. Damn it! Damn it all to hell. Why did my body have to betray my self-doubt? I grit my teeth and forced my emotions to settle enough to offer Lincoln a hand up.

  He winced and slapped it away, preferring to help himself to a sitting position. I’d saved his life, but he might not see it that way. I guessed having your ring-in-sister bust into your trial to intervene may have been a little emasculating. But if I thought the look he gave me was bitter, the one he shot Crank, his best friend, was vitriol. His body healed, repairing the damage, but would their friendship? For his sake, I hoped so.

  Jacine marched onto the mat, flames glittering in her icy blue eyes. Her fairy-floss pink hairdo lifted with static electricity, a sign that her potent aura swelled with emotion. My eyes watered from her vibrations of power as she stood in front of me. I expected a berating for interrupting the natural order of things, but that was not what I got.

  “What have you done with the Gamekeeper?” she barked.

  “Gamekeeper? Nothing.”

  “We all saw you cross the barrier. You have his skill. Explain how you can do that unless you stole it from him. Have you killed him? Is that why he’s been gone so long, because he’s dead?”

  “Whoa. He’s only been gone a week. Relax.”

  “Don’t tell me to relax. He said he would be back as soon as possible. He’s not.” The animosity in her eyes surprised me. Where had it come from?

  Lincoln and Crank scrambled off the mat, leaving me to fend for myself. I opened and closed my mouth, unsure what to say next. Marc once warned me against revealing he’d pushed some of his essence into me. We’d both be in trouble for it.

  Veins bulged in Jacine’s forehead. “I swear to the queen, if you did anything to hurt him… Answer me, dove, or I’ll force it out of you.”

  I flinched. “I would never hurt Marc.”

  “Oh, so it’s Marc, now, is it? Players are to address him by his official title.”

  “Jeez, the Gamekeeper, okay? I took nothing from the Gamekeeper, okay?”

  “I’ll thank you to give me more respect.” She moved as though she would attack me.

  Movement to my right showed Cash readying to intervene. Jacine noticed and backed off, but her questions didn’t. She asked again, how I came to have the same skill as the Gamekeeper.

  Shit. Well, it was his fault. I didn’t ask for his skill. The first time we’d met, he tried to hit on me, like, romantically. When he found out I was a soon to be Player, he sulked. He gave me a parting kiss to remember him by. The kiss came with consequences. We were friends now but, still, I always put my ability to travel through the in-between down to that day.

  “He gave it to me,” I confessed. I wasn’t going down because he was a randy god who couldn’t keep it in his pants.

  The look of sheer horror on Jacine’s face was one of many—shock, disgust, jealously, fear—I couldn’t decipher them all, but they traversed her features leaving me with the feeling she balanced on a razor’s edge.

  I darted a glance around the arena, my heart skipping madly. The prickly feeling I’d fought earlier crackled and skipped over my skin—electric shocks of power. People whispered in the ears of their neighbors while staring at me. Freak show on display. All I needed was to be naked, and then my worst nightmare had come true.

  When Jacine had her emotions under control, she said through gritted teeth: “He is not allowed to show any Player or registrant favor.”

  “Oh, it was before I was registered.” I waved her off. “He kissed me—”

  “He kissed you?”

  The sharp tone in her voice made me jump and a spark shot out of my fingers, searing the rubber mat at my feet. A chemical curl wafted into the air, a reminder to calm the fuck down, Roo, else you’ll be carted off to another prison. Worse. She could end me right there.

  “Yeah, but it was a joke, right Cash?” I glanced at him with a small laugh.

  In the time we’d talked, he stalked towards us. His movements were small as to not startle. I had the sense he stepped toward a loony with a gun.

  But was that me… or Jacine?

  Cash made it to the mat and placed a steady hand on my shoulder. Immediately, I felt better. The energy surging through my pulse calmed under his weight.

  “Jacine,” Cash lowered his voice. “I think we can continue this conversation later. Let’s focus on the rest of the contenders who need to finish their trials.”

  Jacine’s troubled gaze swept across the room and landed on the Tribunal. They’d remained confident and proper the entire time. Nothing, not even my disruption, had stirred their resolve. As though activated to life by Jacine’s attention, Felix rose to his feet.

  “The hunter is correct,” he said. “We have more registrants to get through. Seeing as this woman halted proceedings, I call for her effort to count as her trial.”

  Murmurs from the arena and Tribunal bench broke out.

  “That’s an excellent idea,” Cash replied. “She demonstrated her abilities. The trial requirements have been satisfied. In fact, she stopped a very suspect assassination attempt.”

  “What do you mean suspect?” Felix asked.

  “Well, unless you’re blind, you would have noticed the mentor from Lyra House stand up and use his power. You all know a Siren’s voice can penetrate many barriers. You’re not blind, are you?”

  Silence.

  Nervous glances darted between the five. All knew that if they had to investigate the trial, one of their own precious Watchers would have to be put under the microscope. None of them wanted that. Perhaps because it meant they’d all be under scrutiny. What secrets did they know about each other?

  “I concur,” Jacine said hastily, giving me daggers. “Shall we vote? All those in favor of—what is your name again, dove?”

  Right. As if she forgot my name. “La Roux Urser.”

  “Urser. Of course you bloody are. All those in favor of having this count as Ms. Urser’s trial, raise your hand.”

  Four Tribunal members raised their hand.

  The fifth, Octavia, shot me daggers. Her gaze flicked to over my shoulder toward Bruce and then her voice rose in discord: “She cheated, she must be canceled.”

  Jacine pinched the bridge of her nose and gave a dramatic sigh. “Must you disagree with everything, Octavia?”

  “She cheated.” Octavia glared at me.

  “Fine. The vote must be unanimous, we must come to a decision. Considering the trials have been halted enough already, I propose we continue this conversation tonight. In private. All those in favor?”

  All five lifted their hands.

  “Good. It’s settled then. You two may leave until further notice.”

  Cash took my upper arm and guided me off the mat with haste. I wanted to check on Lincoln, but his seat was empty. My glance
shifted one seat over, to my father, whose triumphant glaze had remained.

  Chapter 27

  The second we left the arena, Cash let go of my arm as though it were on fire. He rounded on me, fuming.

  “Why?”

  “Jeez, so many things I can say to that. You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “Why did you put yourself at risk when I told you to wait it out?”

  “If you’re referring to saving my brother’s life—”

  “He’s not your brother!” His voice boomed in the narrow hallway, shocking me into silence.

  My already racing heart kicked up a beat. I stared him down while I caught my breath. We were alone, but not for long. In fifteen minutes, the current trial would be over, and it was possible more people would leave. I thought of the empty seat next to my father, of the pained look Lincoln had given those horses as he laid in the field dying.

  “He’s worth saving,” I said.

  Cash ground his teeth, tendons in his jaw popped. “Not again.”

  “Again, what?” I shook my head. I’d had enough. “I’m tired of being told what to do, and how to behave. First my father, then the frigging Others, now you!”

  Someone cleared their throat behind me.

  I spun, ready to berate them too, but it was Bruce. Should’ve known. Should have sensed him. Peachy.

  “What do you want?” I spat.

  Amusement shone in his eyes as he darted a glance between Cash and me. “A word, daughter?”

  “You can say what you need in front of my mentor.” I folded my arms. I may be pissed off at Cash, but I wasn’t stupid.

  Behind my father’s rugged face, more people filed out of the arena. Too many, as though it had finished.

  “What’s going on, Bruce?” Cash asked, waving to the crowd.

  “At my suggestion, they’re convening for the day.”

  “You expect us to thank you?” Cash said.