The Game of Gods Box Set

by Lana Pecherczyk

  Cash emerged, staggering from the black smoke and flames with Kitty, limp and charred in his arms. The fire crackled and re-surged behind him. As he rounded the bar, he yelled, “Go!”

  I held open the door as he came through. He laid Kitty’s body on the stainless-steel bench in the center of the kitchen. Parts of her skin had blackened and charred, other parts had warped into red raw twists.

  Sabina took one look at Kitty, ushered her charge outside and then let the wooden door slam behind. She looked at me. “Find me a sharp knife.”

  I ran to the knife block near the stove and handed her the sharpest, hilt first. “Let me help.”

  “No, I can do this. You have expended enough energy already,” Sabina said. “I see the weakness in your eyes and there are not enough able-bodied souls for you to siphon from.”

  “No, don’t touch her.” Cash made a move for Sabina, but I held him back. I felt the tension in his bicep, but he didn’t resist.

  Taking that as permission, Sabina sliced the knife down Kitty’s desecrated front, revealing the soft tissue beneath.

  “You fuck this up and I’m coming for you.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. “I swear to god, I’ll make you wish you’d never laid eyes on me.”

  Call me crazy, but I think she smiled before she sliced the knife down her palm and flattened it to Kitty’s wound. She closed her eyes and concentrated, brows joining in the middle, quietly chanting.

  I paced the length of the bench, flexing my fists, waiting. Kitty’s beautiful blue and green mermaid hair had singed in clumps. Short bits and long stringy bits stuck to her skin. I kept one eye on Sabina and the other on Kitty, willing her shallow breathing to even out. I held her hand and waited. Slowly the redness faded, the skin hardened. I sighed. It had worked.

  Cash shuffled to my right. Blood from a cut in his upper arm trickled onto his white shirt and his lower legs were charred. Patches of fabric had burnt away revealing blackened skin beneath. I squinted, the color was soot, not charred skin. He’d probably be healed by now.

  “Are you okay Cash?” I asked, just to make sure.

  “We need to get out of here, the bar is still burning and there are survivors.” He looked up to the roof, frowning. “Why haven’t your sprinklers gone off?”

  “I don’t know. Did you say survivors?”

  Survivors—the Inquisitor, the unconscious man, or the hesitant man in the checked shirt—what had happened to him? If there were survivors, we had to try to save them. I had to balance out the life I’d taken, even if I hated their guts. Balance was key.

  Cash didn’t answer, but positioned a kitchen trolley under one of the sprinklers and climbed up to take a better look.

  “Shit,” he mumbled and looked down at me. “The glass sensor has been painted over to reduce its temperature sensitivity.”

  He was right, of course. The thin glass bulb had been painted black. He flicked the fingertips of his wounded arm, discarding the blood that had gathered there. He still bled.

  My teeth clenched as I grabbed a clean white tea towel. “You’re still bleeding, Cash.” I changed my mind about rescuing the Inquisitor. I hoped he was dead.

  “If we’re quick, we might be able to break the sensor bulbs and set off the system. Where’s Marc when you need him?”

  Marc. Fire. My brain whirred. I could make fire. Did that mean I could stop it?

  No.

  “Argh,” I screamed in frustration, held out the towel to Cash and then checked on Kitty. Sabina still pushed heavily into her chest. Her eyelids drooped, but she lifted her calm gaze to mine.

  “She’s going to be all right,” she said. Kitty’s skin looked more like a char-grilled fish than a mermaid’s, but at least she was alive. “We can move her outside soon—maybe five minutes.”

  “Good.” Cash hopped off the trolley. He skirted my dangling tea towel, but I stopped him and checked his wound.

  “Why haven’t you healed?” I whispered as I dabbed the slow drizzle from his shoulder slash.

  He watched me intently, but didn’t flinch. “You were battle born, La Roux. You have good instincts. You should use them more often. I watched you in there. Your problem is that you think you’re human. You balked until you finally pushed your emotions aside and acted on primal instinct. Then in an instant, you won.”

  I rolled the cloth and tied it around his arm. “Emotion is what saved me, Cash. I didn’t move until I heard Kitty scream. Wait”—Had he been on the sidelines, simply observing?—“were you testing me?”

  “Yes, but you wouldn’t have learned otherwise.” He pulled away and grabbed a stack of towels from a shelf. He wet the first and shoved it at me. With his free hand, he soaked the second towel.

  “Thanks.” I wiped my face with it.

  He huffed and took it back, then folded the towel into a triangle and tied it around my head, covering my mouth. He did the same to himself. He pulled me towards the swinging door, picking up Sabina’s fallen knife on the way.

  “I’ll use the knife to break the sprinkler bulbs, and you use your telekinesis for practice.” His voice was muffled. “We’ll start with the ones closest to us and work towards the fire. The flame retardant is still effective in some areas; we can jump to those safely. You ready?”

  I glanced back at Kitty, unsure. Did I want to leave her to save some murderers?

  “She can’t be moved yet. She’ll be okay,” Cash said, then frowned at my slumped posture. “Have you got enough energy to help me?”

  Did I look that weary?

  Balance.

  Reluctantly, I stumbled forward. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 30

  Cash pulled me through the doors and climbed onto the bar top. Fire crackled from the center of the room where flames licked at the remaining kindling. Black smoke filled the air, creating a thick haze. The sprinklers were shadowy blobs on the ceiling. How on earth would I aim for the tiny glass bulb in that blurry thing?

  Cash crouched beside me and waved his knife to get my attention. He held out his hand and pulled me up with a strong, steady lift. His eyes twinkled with mischief over the white kerchief on his mouth and he looked up at the ceiling. He poked the closest bulb with his knife and a blast of water sprayed down onto us—cool relief on parched skin. His forehead crinkled as if to say, “See that? I’m awesome.”

  I fought the urge to stick out my tongue and settled for sucking the drops of water from the soaked kerchief, a small smile on my lips. With dripping fingers, he pointed to the next sprinkler further into the room, closer to the source of the fire.

  I didn’t have much faith in the accuracy of my skills, but sent my energy flying to where he’d indicated. I recoiled like I’d shot a gun. A second later the entire sprinkler unit fell off, letting a torrential waterfall escape from the hole. It was hopeless. There’s no way I could hit such a small target.

  Cash was already breaking another sprinkler at the end of the bar.

  “Just keep going,” he called. “We need to hurry before we lose the pressure.”

  I turned to the center of the room barely noticing the water soaking my shirt. Exhaustion trampled me and, irritated, I yanked the towel off my face. The spray slowed. It was running out of pressure. Alarmed, I realized there were too many units left. We were running out of time. But if I could use my telekinesis to get all the units off in one hit, I could then redirect the water to where the fire was thickest. Maybe. I’d moved water before, well, beer. Same thing, right? I’d also done it with puddles as a child. My mood lightened. I could do this.

  I called Cash back from where he stabbed the roof. He slipped and slid until he stood in front of me, questions in his bright eyes—was he having fun?

  “Stand behind me,” I said and waited for him to move.

  I held out my arms, splayed my fingers and inflated my energy to the brink. Then let it loose in one big arc angling at the roof. It crackled from my fingertips, and broke anything in its path, inclu
ding light fixtures and taxidermy crows. They clattered to the floor. I adjusted my power arc lower to catch the falling water and altered its course toward the central fire.

  Within seconds the blaze simmered out, and so did I. With my vitality depleted, I slid off the bar, soggy waterlogged shoes squelching as they hit the floor. I collapsed, blinking lazily and wiping the water from my face.

  So tired.

  It wasn’t as smoky near the ground. I could breathe. Maybe I had broken the windows with my blast of power because a cool, fresh breeze wafted in from somewhere. I scrubbed my face. I was so tired, I wasn’t even sure if the voices in my head were my own. Maybe I had been asleep all along.

  Sleep sounds like a good idea.

  “La Roux.” Cash grabbed my chin and tilted my head towards him. Had I fallen asleep? The fire was out, but light filtered in from the kitchen. His eyes still twinkled as he crouched beside me.

  “You’re actually having fun,” I accused, my words slurred, heavy with lethargy.

  He shrugged, pulled the towel from his mouth and scrubbed his face with it. “Maybe just a little,” he said with half a smile. “My endorphins are flowing so I guess that’s what you might call it—fun.”

  Fatigue thrust my lids low, causing an unmistakable desire to pass out. My body was not handling the after-effects of exertion. A vicious, heavy feeling pulled me down like quicksand and I slumped sideways onto the floor. It looked as good a place as any for a rest. Sleep. I sighed dreamily and closed my eyes, reveling in the pleasure of relief. Nobody would miss me if I took a nap.

  “Hey.” Cash shuffled closer and prodded my arm with his finger. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I wasn’t having fun, I don’t even know what that is—La Roux?”

  I groaned, swatted his hand away and peeled one eye open.

  “Go away, I’m sleeping.” I closed my eye again, waiting for oblivion.

  “You can’t sleep now,” he said. “Wake up!”

  I didn’t move.

  “Look, I’m not in favor of what you did to me at the beach without my consent, but if I give you permission to take energy from me, you can. You said something earlier about recharging from other people.” He shook me. “La Roux, wake up.”

  “You’re invisible,” I babbled, irritated, but I knew what I meant, even if he didn’t. How could I borrow his energy if I couldn’t sense it? “Go away.”

  “If you fall asleep now, I don’t know if you will wake up.” He shook me. “You did something to me at the barbecue. Do it again.”

  I’d embarrassed myself, that’s what I’d done. I grumbled and turned away, rolling into a fetal position. The floor was so good. So comfy.

  He grasped the back of my neck and drew me close.

  I opened my eyes. “Wha—?”

  His lips were on mine. That electrically charged attraction zinged between us again. Drawn together. Wow. My eyes shot open. He curled his arm around my waist and maneuvered me onto his lap, kissing. His hidden essence traveled from his mouth to my tongue and heated my insides like whiskey, then overflowed deeper, spreading warmth to my core. It sparked mayhem inside, sensations exploding at his touch, and I was once again reminded of the scent of the rain. Coupled with his hungry mouth, hands and vitality, I gave in to my body’s weakness and physical desire. I melted into his waterlogged body and kissed him back as drops kept falling from the ceiling.

  Then I came to my senses and punched him in the guts, hard. He grunted into my mouth but didn’t let go, didn’t stop kissing. His hand moved to the nape of my neck. I punched him again. Harder.

  “Oof.” He let go, eyes opening to glare at me from under heavy lids. He licked his lips and darted a glance down to mine then back to my eyes.

  I disentangled myself and shuffled backwards, breath heaving through a gaping mouth. My thoughts were at war. I thought I’d ruined his trust in me, but this time, he’d made the first move. No, he must be toying with me, or had it been a calculated decision?

  “What on earth are you doing?” I snapped, hoping my harsh tone would disguise my feelings. “This isn’t the right time to be playing kissy-face, Cash. You’d know that if you could feel. We need to check the survivors.”

  The shame of my cruel words inflamed my cheeks, and I looked down, then made to move but he grabbed me.

  “For your information, there are parts of me that feel just fine,” he said and cocked an eyebrow. His eyes darkened for a moment. “When I decide to play ‘kissy-face’ you’ll know it.”

  My heart beat once, hard against my ribcage. The visual his words sent made my mouth dry and all at once, it consumed me, just like I knew his lips would.

  “Roo, it worked didn’t it? You feel better?”

  My eyes fluttered closed. Of course. He’d given me his energy to increase my own. What an idiot I was to think there was more to it. I did feel slightly less tired, among other things.

  “You’re right,” he said. “There are other things we should be doing, but checking on that bastard isn’t one of them. You should leave him to his fate.” His voice came out husky and he coughed to cover it up, thumping his chest with his fist.

  “You can’t be serious? Yes, I agree he’s a bastard, but there has to be a balance.” I swallowed, not believing my own words. “You’re the one who said that’s how it is.”

  He rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Okay, okay. Fine. I just got a little… sidetracked. I didn’t say I was perfect. I’ll make sure he’ll keep until paramedics arrive, and then I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

  With a feeling of loss I couldn’t explain, we parted.

  I found Kitty sleeping soundly on the stainless steel bench, a faint whistling coming from her nose. The color had returned to her face, and much of the dried skin had sloughed away. She was alone. Sabina had gone. A grumble and a cramping in my own tummy reminded me she would be ravenous and probably went searching for sustenance. Witchcraft took a lot of reserves.

  Cash joined me and went to pick up Kitty, but I stopped him.

  “Wait,” I said and bit my lip. “Again, it may not be the time or the place, but we might not get another chance and I need to do that mentor thing with you. If you’ll still have me, that is.”

  Marc’s warning had flooded into my mind with red and blue flashing lights. If I didn’t do this—whatever it was—with Cash, I could end up a slave and carted around the world, abused by some stranger. In terms of candidates for a mentor, Cash was a pretty good choice. So far. He fought for the rights of those less fortunate. He wasn’t obligated to. He wasn’t on the local police force and it wasn’t his town, but he came tonight to help. Cash was someone I could look up to.

  “Yes, I will.” He looked into my eyes, searching, then pulled out the knife he’d stashed in his waistband.

  “Why?” I had to ask. He was so hard to read.

  The intensity of his gaze eased. The Adam’s apple in his throat bobbed when he swallowed and he flipped the knife over and over in his hand, hypnotized by the spinning metal.

  “To tell you the truth, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I understand the loneliness of what you’re going through. Being an outsider in this Game isn’t easy. Maybe it’s this strange attraction I feel for you. You smell like someone I know, but I’ve never met. I can’t explain it, but the more I’m around you, the more I want to keep you safe and, well, that’s a conversation for another time.” His eyes sparkled as he glanced at my lips. He stopped flipping the knife and our eyes met. “We’re connected somehow. You must feel it—it’s different. When we kissed, there was something else there, a pull. Whoever you are inside, and whoever I am—they’re made of the same thing. If we do this together, we can help each other out. We need to trust our instincts.”

  My breath hitched. He felt it too. I thought maybe it was my raging hormones and energy-addled brain, but I felt it too.

  He doesn’t really know you. The voices chimed in. Always with the negative. I had to agree with them though. He didn’t
know about my soul-stealing abilities, or my destructive potential in the Game. I hadn’t told him about Marc’s prognosis, that I could be used as a slave by other Players. A blood tie would condemn him to my fate.

  “What is it?” he asked, frowning at my expression.

  “Marc said I am a Soul-Eater. He also said I’m doomed to regress once I return to the Empire and, if that’s the case, I’d be taking you down with me.” I looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

  “Marc also calls kangaroos ‘hoppity bunnies with long tails’. Sometimes he’s too blinded by his ego to see the truth clearly.”

  I smirked. “He said that to you too?”

  “I don’t know what your truth is yet, but I’m willing to bet my soul on it.” Without warning, he sliced the razor sharp blade across my Mount of Venus, deep. I hissed at the sting in my flesh. Blood welled from the wound and he quickly sliced his own palm and flattened it to mine. The wounds touched, blood mingling. A shiver moved like an avalanche through my body and tingling sensations prickled my palm as the wound healed.

  “La Roux Urser, do you accept me, Cash Samson, as your mentor, teacher and confidant until you have completed your trials and are released into the Game?” he asked.

  I didn’t need a magic key to tell me the answer. “Yes.”

  He pulled his hand away and frowned at my healed palm. His still leaked. Why was he not healing? He sliced my palm again, and rejoined our hands, tightening the pressure to the stinging wound. “I pledge to be truthful, protect you and instruct you with the intent of success in all matters concerning the Game for the duration of your trials. May we be linked universally from this day forward.”

  I felt awkward and glanced at my feet. “Is that it? Do I need to say anything?”

  “No, our blood is shared, as is our life-force. We both agreed it’s what we want. That is enough for the universe to recognize the link.”