Sinful Gods: Paranormal Romance (Hell's Playground Series Book 2)

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Sinful Gods: Paranormal Romance (Hell's Playground Series Book 2) Page 2

by Jesse Darkling


  None of them care if she dies. She’s a god-killer. And to them, that’s worse than the shit on the bottom of their shoes.

  Bono shouts in triumph, lifting his face to the crowd.

  Why isn’t she using her power? Her collar and cuffs should be turned down enough to defend herself. Yet she’s relying on physical strength. Mistake. I thought she was smarter than this.

  Bile surges in my throat and I shove it down.

  I crush the can of beer in my hand and the liquid shoots up into the air, then freezes.

  What the fucking hell?

  Gasps sound around me as everyone’s drink hovers in the air. Then at once, they slam forward, rushing down onto the stadium floor. Crushing into Bono.

  The cans barrage into him, one after another, pummeling into him. He’s driven off Shaye and pushed into the cement wall from the sheer momentum. Cracks puncture the concrete around him as he ducks more can attacks. The sounds of bones being crushed has me smirking. Now, this is a show I can watch.

  For a few moments, every god and goddess around me sits stunned. I want to scream and whistle for my girl, but I dare not show any emotion. Doing so will get us both killed.

  She stumbles away from Bono’s body which slumps off the wall and drops into a heap. My poor girl is gasping for air, holding her middle, staring incredulously at her handiwork.

  I can’t stop smiling. She’s done it. Just as I knew she could.

  I’m so turned on right now my cock is trying to punch through my pants.

  The crowd explodes like a giant entity and boos. Calls for her death surge along the threads, weaving tighter until nearly all of them are chanting it.

  "Kill her, kill the god-killer."

  Stupid fools. She is fucking better than all of them. And all of me wants to be able to fight alongside her. Show these arrogant assholes what a real fight looks like. I’d love to train her myself; she has such huge potential.

  Brilliant how she gathered up all the water around t—

  Her body suddenly convulses, knees giving out and they hit the ground. The earlier sounds cease, while my heart bangs loudly in my chest as I watch, unsure what’s going on.

  I scan the arena for a magic user, someone cursing her. Her cries have me jolting to my feet to rush to her side as no one else moves to aid her.

  Streaks of lightning zap through the air like a lightning storm. Every light in the theater explodes and pops at once. Darkness suffocates us in seconds. Gods scream while some use their power to teleport the fuck out of here. Their power leaves behind faint light trails.

  Fucking cowards. Come to watch others suffer, run when it might involve them.

  I use the darkness to rush down through the masses and over seats. The popping lights all around giving me sufficient light to find my way to the wall barricading Shaye.

  I shove people out of my way. Not caring who. Let them believe it was the panic making me crazy like every other moron here. As a guard, I’m not allowed to care or hell, even train her.

  Telling myself I'm merely checking on my asset, my bet in the competition, I jump down the ten-foot cement wall. Magic pricks down my skin, and in seconds, cushions my landing.

  Shaye is lying motionless on the arena floor. And something inside me buckles.

  Chapter Four

  Nelos

  Inside the infirmary, I pace as Shaye lays on one of the prison cots. My nails dig into my palms as I clench my fists tighter. The monster in me senses my distress and growls deep in my chest. I can’t let him out though. Not here... not now. Only reason I’m allowed in here is because the nurse is sweet on me.

  My gaze darts back to Shaye who is pale as snow and not moving.

  The arena. The fights to the bloody victory. I can’t believe the Warden put helpless Shaye in there. My Shaye.

  I try to shove down my rage, but it’s building an inferno inside me. They will pay if she doesn’t recover from this. I will soak the walls of this prison in their blood.

  Shaye coughs and I’m at her side, holding her hand. Slowly she opens her bright, blue eyes and I’m so happy that she’s awake and that I’m here for her that I nearly shout in joy and relief.

  “Where— what happened?”

  She’s still covered in blood except for her face that the nurse washed off when she arrived. I clench my fists instead of taking her in my arms like I want. I can’t trust myself with her— not while a monster claws at my insides —wanting to reach her. I swallow hard. “You’re okay, everything’s going to be okay.”

  She squeezes her eyes shut and a tear rolls down her cheek. “No, I’m never going to be all right again. Not as long as I’m in this place.”

  My throat constricts because what can I tell her? Lie and say she’ll eventually make her way out of this hellhole? That if she succeeds and survives in the arena enough times, she’ll be eligible to be auctioned off as some god’s toy? Fuck that.

  I clear my throat and she glances over at me with desperation and hope brimming in her eyes that it cuts my heart. “We’ll find a way to get you out of here, Shaye. I swear it.” I tell her what I want to believe, what I want her to believe, ignoring the worry churning in my gut that what’s coming for her scares me for her safety.

  I make a pact with myself to do whatever I can to help her escape this impossible situation. Hell knows I’ve tried countless times myself only to end up thrown right back in here like a fucking rubber band is attached to me.

  “I can’t get the image of Bono swollen and bloated, pinned to the arena out of my mind.”

  “Bono,” I seethe. The motherfucker is dead for touching her. “He’s who they put you up against.” Damn bastard is a second-level fighter. Why the hell don’t they put her in with the third or fourth class prisoners or one of the newbies like her? Realization slams into me. I know why—because they want her dead— but they’re too fucking lazy to do it themselves and this is the easier cover-up.

  I can’t hold back my rage and I have to get it out as the beast is beating at my chest. Adrenaline surges through me. My fingernails curl into claws. I punch the cement wall beside me and Shaye gasps.

  “Damn it, Shaye, why didn’t you keep your fucking head down?”

  This way, they get all the gods and goddess’ bets and their appreciation of watching a public execution disguised as sport. Putting her in with Bono, tells me the warden is going to keep sending her down there until he finishes her off. But at whose call? The warden doesn’t care if she lives or dies, so who’s been in his ear?

  I was a prisoner like she was... like every lowlife in here. Even if I killed the warden, another would take his place. A never-ending shit-cycle.

  I face her and her terrified wide-blue eyes make me feel like the horrible person I am. But it’s better if she’s scared of me. If she wants to keep her distance.

  “What the hell happened between us?” She hiccups a small cry, wincing.

  What happened was my fault. If I hadn’t gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd when she’d left, I wouldn’t have been incarcerated. I’d have been with her... she’d never have been put in the position where she had to kill a god. Fuck! I hadn’t even known her power was that strong.

  There hasn’t been a day... an hour that I haven’t thought of her. Of everything we’ve been through. Even though some I’d do again, especially if it meant keeping Shaye safe, and while I want to sit here and tell her how everything got fucked up for me after we went our separate ways, I’m not ready to spill my heart with the nurse in the room and while Shaye is still recovering. The focus is on making sure she heals first.

  “Y-you tried to warn me... about the arena before... didn’t you?”

  I nod. “I will murder that bastard for daring to lay a hand on you.”

  “It’s over.” She sighs, her voice catching. “I-I think I killed him.”

  Inside, I still. Part of me thought her kill of Anubis was a fluke. Some random, weird accident where she was in the wrong place at the right
time and his magic backfired on him. But if what she says is true— well, she might be strong enough to destroy a full-blown god again. And here I underestimated her.

  “Are you sure?” The words sounded hollow to my ears. Like I couldn’t even fake the belief that she is capable of such a thing.

  “Last I saw him, he was embedded into a concrete wall.” She shakes her head, her hand trembling in mine. “Not the kind of thing someone walks away from.”

  She could be mistaken. I tell myself. But if she’s right... shit... the gods and goddess will be calling for her blood now. Not that Bono was any hotshot god, but they’d believe the rumors of her killing a full-fledged god now that they’d seen her in action.

  “What did you do in the arena to destroy him so easily?” I whisper.

  “I don’t really know.” She hiccups a breath. “He was on top of me and I felt like he was crushing in my skull. And my power just shot out of me joining in a thousand atoms around the stadium and shoving him off me.”

  “But your power is water—” I stop. “Wait. Where did the water come from?”

  She shrugs, paling. “Bono, the stadium drinks, the atmosphere. Everywhere around.”

  “Fucking shit.” I shake my head. “From Bono’s own body? How?”

  “I don’t know.” She bit her lip, then winced since it was still swollen and healing.

  Whenever the nurse returned, I was going to make her do another healing spell on Shaye. She wasn’t recovering fast enough to me. I want her out of here and by my side, but I’m no fool. If my hunch is right and the gods come for her because of her ability, I can’t stop them. Fuck! “We’ll get you out of this joint somehow, Shaye. I promise.”

  “I want to believe you, but—”

  Before all this, she’d believe me without question. But that was in our previous life. We can’t start where we left off. I inhale a sharp breath. There isn’t even an us anymore. I don’t know what hurts more, the way she looks at me with disbelief, or that I had foolishly believed once we bonded again, things would go back to normal.

  But that’s not going to happen, is it? I tense, my jawline clenching, and I want to roar my anger at what I’d lost and now even as it is within reach, she’s too far away.

  “Listen, what we had in the past is just that. I can’t just pick up where we were. So much has happened. We’ve both changed, and do I really know who you are? Do you really know me?”

  “Let me show you who I am? Let us find our way back to what we had?”

  She stares at me blankly but doesn’t say a word. “That’s not how this works, Nelos. You hurt me so much and I spend a lot of time getting over you.”

  I stiffen, a pang of pain striking me dead center in the chest. I’ve been pining over her this whole time, starved to find her again, battling with my own inner demons until I felt ready to go back to her. And she’s over me! What the fuck?

  She sighs. “That came out wrong.”

  When I was thrown into prison, I never thought I’d smell her aroma or lay eyes on her ever again much less get a chance to correct our wrongs. But I always held onto the thought that once we got together everything would slot back into place.

  I’ve been a fucking fool for so long.

  “No, you said exactly what you meant,” I answer bitterly.

  “Nelos,” she says, but I shake my head.

  “I will prove to you I have changed, and then when I claim you as mine, you will have no more doubts.”

  “Nelos,” she says again, her voice soft. “I’m not asking you to prove anything.”

  “Then what do you want from me?”

  She shrugs, and her silence tells me more than words ever will. She doesn’t push me away but needs to sort out her thoughts. And well, I have my own shit to work out, especially the beast shoving against my insides, wanting to get closer to her. How will she respond to finding out the truth to what I really am?

  Walking away isn’t an option.

  I've always wanted her. I've spent years trying to exorcise her from my heart and soul. But she's always been here, under the surface of my screwed-up life.

  She's an addiction I don’t want to stop.

  Her silence cuts me like razorblades, and I wince from the pain welling up in my chest. I don't want to hurt her and even the beast inside growls his approval. She's ours to protect, and I’ll kill anyone who hurts her.

  Chapter Five

  Shaye

  Two days later, I finally felt like I hadn’t had my skull nearly caved in, but I was still covered in bruises. And I had a dull ache everywhere.

  “You’ve done fine on the medicine and shouldn’t need anymore,” the nurse said walking into the small room. There’s a pinch to her gray eyes like she’s wary of me, and I don’t know what to make of that. No one has ever been scared of me. No reason to, but can that be because I never knew what lay inside me? What I was truly capable of? “If you have any dizziness or blurred vision, come see me,” she continues.

  “I will.” I nod, smiling at her. “Thanks.”

  She turns away and leaves me alone to change into a clean prison uniform she’s laid on the bed. On the ledge of a barred window sits a bowl of water and a towel for me to get cleaned up. Never thought I’d be happy to have a prison shower, but that is exactly what I’m going to do when my block has their turn later today.

  Quickly, I wash off with the rag and water, careful of my bruises and bandaged injuries around my ribs. I’m starving and it is almost time for breakfast in the mess hall.

  I rake my hands through my hair to get out most of the tangles and think about asking the nurse for a brush, but I don’t bother her. I think the only reason she took care of me is because her patron god is Asclepius. She wears his emblem of a single snake entwined around a rod. Asclepius is one of the few demi-gods, who is the son of Apollo, who one of the few promoted to full god status.

  I dress in new prison clothes and feel semi-normal. I leave the infirmary and weave my way through the halls to the mess hall, my stomach growling so loud it echoes around me. There’s something strange about wandering around here after what I’d endured. It felt surreal to know the authorities use inmates for their entertainment. Assholes. What I need is to find a way to never end up in that damn arena again.

  I turn the corner, passing my cell when a shadow moves inside my room, and I freeze.

  “Hey, beautiful,” Rowan says as he emerges from the shadows.

  My heart collides into my ribcage from excitement. Seeing him brings with it exhilaration, a familiar face that makes me feel somehow sane. I dash into my cell and throw my arms around him. “You’re out of solitary?”

  His scent of spiced clove and cedar with a hint of cinnamon envelopes me and I breathe him in, never wanting to let go. I feel like I’m overreacting, but I don’t push him away. Not yet. Not while I enjoy the way he holds me like nothing matters to him more than me. After dealing with Nelos, Rowan is security and comfort. Which is crazy to say considering where we are.

  “Did you miss me?” He nuzzles my neck, holding me closer to him.

  His hands slide over my injury, and I gasp out a cry.

  “What is it?” He pulls back, concern flashing in his honey-brown eyes. He lifts my chin with his fingers, then hisses out a breath. “Who the fuck hurt you?” His tone instantly darkens.

  I swallow as he stares at my bruises and the dark circles under my eyes. His grip on my chin squeezes like holding back his anger grows harder by the second.

  “He’s dead now.” My words hang in the air between us like an accusation. “I fucking hate this place, Rowan. I'm not a fighter. This isn't me.”

  “Goddammit, who did they put you up against?” His voice is full of anger and bitterness.

  And just hearing him speak this way about someone hurting me is sexy as hell. I can’t deny how attracted I am to him right now when I shouldn’t be. My head is broken.

  “Wait.” I push back. “You knew about this? About the fights an
d you didn’t say anything?”

  “Not much I could do, Luv. I was in solitary, remember?” But he looked away, something in his deep eyes.

  “What?” I stiffen, trembling to hear him talk so casually about something so terrifying to me.

  He sighs, facing me. “Shit, I didn’t know until right before I got caught in the Warden’s office that they were even considering you for the fight rings.” His fingers rake through his cropped, dark hair leaving it standing up in spikes at the top. “By then it was too fucking late, and I was slammed into the hole.”

  The fact he had wanted to warn me is something I supposed, still it seemed everyone knew about these fights but me. “But you still could’ve told me when I brought your candy.”

  “Didn’t think they’d play you so early and I figured they’d only throw you in as a scare. Newbies don’t fight on their first time usually. Thought I could change their minds before you went in... thought I had more time, so I didn’t want to scare you, babe.” He gives me a level look like his temper is simmering underneath the surface. “Who did they put you up against?”

  “Bono.”

  “Fuck!” His jaw tightens and I have no doubt that if Bono was still alive, Rowan would kill him.

  That realization should scare me, but it doesn’t.

  “Can’t believe they sent you in like this. Why didn’t anyone help you?”

  “They were too busy cheering from the stands while he nearly killed me.”

  “The arena,” he says the name like a curse. “Why the fuck did they send you in there against him? He outranks you physically.”

  I didn’t answer. I could guess why— because they didn’t want a god-killer like me to live. Execution would’ve been kinder, but the gods were never that simple. If I could suffer and they watch, that was the best for them.

  “They’re going to make me go back in there, aren’t they?” I start trembling and I can’t stop.

 

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