The Game of Gods Box Set

by Lana Pecherczyk

  Or, I could try listening harder, see if that worked. First, I’d have to move away from Marc. His godly aura was a little overpowering compared to anything else.

  I stepped closer until I was right underneath the bird and craned my neck to view it better. There was still a lot of noise in the area.

  “Would you mind stepping further back?” I asked Marc. “Your aura is quite loud.”

  He took a giant backwards step onto the small patch of garden grass. “Here?”

  “Further.”

  Another step. “Here.”

  I closed my eyes. “Nope. I can still hear you.”

  A crashing sound. Marc cursed under his breath. When I opened my eyes, he was in the garden bed, on his rear end in the middle of a daisy bush.

  “Sorry!” I called. “But, that’s good. The energy of the plant life around you seems to have blocked some of your vibe. Don’t move.”

  I turned back to the bird who gave a small caw of approval. “Don’t get cheeky, bird. He’ll fry you to kingdom come. Right. What do you want to tell me?”

  It squawked.

  I locked onto it’s unique signature and was able to filter all else out. The incessant buzz of nature dimmed, Marc’s dynamic energy quieted, and I shut my eyes to hone in on the bird’s energy with razor sharp focus. Its frequency pulsed at me with an odd rhythmic beat, almost like putting my fingers on a pumping audio speaker I couldn’t hear. Or, perhaps, as though I held my fingers to someone’s throat as they spoke. I both felt and heard at once.

  There was definitely a message there, a repeated series of patterns.

  I made a frustrated groan. “I can’t do it! It’s like trying to read lips with zero experience.”

  “You can do it, love. I have faith in you.”

  “Argh.” I lashed out at the bird with my sixth sense, hoping to connect somehow with its energy.

  Usually, when I sought contact with a being like this, the energy connected to me like a tap being turned on. Life-force flowed unfettered and fast. This time, I turned the tap on slowly and let it trickle then flow around me, and I listened.

  “Say it again,” I urged the bird. When it cawed, understanding pecked at my mind. “Almost there.” I inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Again.”

  “One in the bush, two in the vineyard.”

  “Vineyard?” I opened my eyes. The bird hopped in glee. “You mean my old home?”

  It hopped again then gave a short squawk. Instead of an indeterminate sound, I understood in the affirmative. I was right.

  Elation lifted me. I grinned and whipped around to face Marc. “I’m right!”

  The daisy bush completely camouflaged his body. His head popped up. “I knew you had it in you.”

  Chapter 7

  We arrived in one of the Urser Estate vineyards, on a sandy path between some vines. I noticed the dying grapes first and the eternal sadness leeching up through my bare feet. Just like the crow, I felt an overwhelming urge to communicate with nature. Under my toes, the thrum of energy had a pulse and a beat. I couldn’t decipher it, but I picked out emotions, none of them good.

  I reached out to gather a shriveled grape into my fingers. “It’s a sultana.”

  “Yes, it all looks rather neglected,” Marc said.

  “Bruce said he would sell the place, but… he obviously hasn’t.” I walked along the path, dodging the gnarled and gangly vines growing wild and free. A sparkle of light caught my attention and I narrowed in on a perfectly formed cobweb, intricate and complex, and perfect. There in the center, waiting for its next meal, was a stunning spider, gently swaying in the breeze. A crow cawed nearby and hopped between skeletal vines, pecking sultanas for food. Usually this time of year, I could walk down these aisles and pluck a juicy grape from the plentiful clusters, but the summer had been harsh and the vines had not been watered. I kept walking and emerged in the small field in front of the manor where even the grass and weeds were drained of color and crisp to walk on. It broke my heart. The Urser Manor loomed on the other side and I swore then and there that I would return. I would bring this place back to its former glory. I wanted to save the planet, but this would be my first step. My baby step.

  “Been rather busy trying to take over the world, I suspect,” Marc added.

  A sharp surge in energy within the house snapped my attention that way. “Eve. She’s in there and she knows we’re here.”

  Marc stopped me by a hand to the shoulder. “I need to tell you something about the witch, love.”

  “Okay,” I said hesitantly.

  “She said she met you before. Her name is Sabina.”

  I gaped. “You mean the nice witch who helped me heal Alvin and Kitty after Petra and the Inquisitor?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know what she did for you, but I can tell you this, she’s a very good liar. Almost had me fooled.”

  “That’s unexpected.” I blinked a few times, unsure what to make of it. “Thinking of the way she acted around me—all calm and kind—it’s hard to believe she helped me heal Alvin and Kitty for her own personal gain. She didn’t seem like that kind of person, but I suppose she is a witch. What does she want with me?”

  “She wants to go to the Empire. They all do.”

  “It’s not the paradise they all think it is. Not when I ran away from it to come here.”

  Marc studied me for a minute. “We all have differing ideas about paradise, love. Belief is a funny thing. It can make you survive when all hope is lost, and it can cast you down and do despicable acts. One thing is for sure, it breeds distrust. One man’s god is another’s devil. Go in with both eyes wide open.”

  “Once again, you are too smart for me.”

  “I like this compliment thing. Keep them coming.”

  “Well, I guess we should go and see what she says.”

  We walked to the front of the Federation style house and up the porch steps to the door. It was open. We let ourselves in.

  From the moment I crossed the threshold, a piercing sense of otherness washed over me. It was more than a startling sense of déja vu. It was the dusty emptiness of a home void of humanity—a skeleton if you will. This was the home I’d spent a good portion of my life in. My sister and I had never gotten along, but she had confessed her wishes for a fresh start right where I stood. She’d come running down the polished mahogany balustrade staircase and shoved her jar of nightmares into my hands. It had been the first step in what I’d hoped was a new beginning for us, but it was the end. That was the last time I’d seen my sister for who she truly was. And then she was gone. Petra possessed her that day.

  Why had Eve chosen this place?

  To unsettle me, no doubt.

  In front of me was the living room. Two brown leather Chesterfields sat facing each other in front of an antique fireplace. The room was flanked on either side by staircases that led up to the second level where the bedrooms were. On the walls, photographs of the ancestors of my birth mother peered down at me. I knew now that she was just a pawn to my father. He claimed to have loved her, but she was only a surrogate to his cause. There were many women around the world he impregnated for the purpose of making soulless Nephilim bodies for our Seraphim souls to inhabit in this insidious Game. The Watchers bred with humans, the Nephilim bred with Nephilim. For a god to take away the chance of having a normal child from a human, like my mother, was horrendous. The more I thought about it, the more it rankled. She thought she was giving birth to new life—a new soul. Instead she got me.

  As the queen, I created life on this planet, but I also created the Game which was fast becoming the opposite of life. I’m glad it’s ending.

  We followed Eve’s signature into the kitchen where she sat at the table drinking a cup of coffee and toying with her smart phone. She looked the same as the Sabina I remembered. Middle-aged. Slim and in a drab blue dress with a white Peter Pan collar. Kind eyes, short brown hair, and a calming aura that projected trust and peace. The perfect motherly type. I half
expected to smell cookies baking in the oven, but I could only smell her rose perfume.

  A quick scan of the house, and I knew we were alone.

  “Where is my friend?” I asked.

  She lifted her head and smiled. I had to remind myself Marc said she was a liar. That calming sense projecting from her aura must be fake. My father could control his aura, she probably could too.

  “Good to see you again, Roo.” The kindness dropped from her eyes as she took in Marc. “Gamekeeper.”

  “Witch.” Marc rolled his eyes at her and then made his way to the fridge. He opened the door and took a peak inside only to shut it with a screwed up nose. “Disgusting.”

  Eve scrutinized me. “I see your aura has changed since I last saw you. I take it you’ve managed to get rid of the extra baggage weighing you down?”

  “Let’s get this straight, Sabina… Eve, or whatever your name is. I’m not here to chat. I’m here for my friend. Where is she?”

  “I haven’t the foggiest.”

  “What?”

  “Well, as you can see, she’s not here.”

  “But you said if we didn’t come, there would be suffering!”

  “I had to get you here somehow, didn’t I. And to be honest, I wasn’t after you, dear. It was your Gamekeeper friend here. He owes me.”

  Marc stopped his investigation of the cupboards and turned around. He leant his hip on the kitchen counter top. “So, Little Red’s friend is okay?”

  “I assume so. I just stole her phone.”

  Marc’s face lit up and he turned to me. “I guess we can get this over quicker than we planned. Do you want to do the honors, or shall I?”

  “I want to check that she’s telling the truth first.” I used telekinesis to drag Eve’s phone across the table to my hand. “I’m sure you won’t mind if I borrow this for a minute, since it’s not yours anyway.”

  “Be my guest.”

  I dialed Alvin’s number. After two rings, he answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Alvin, it’s me.”

  “Who’s me, and why do you have Kitty’s phone? Did you steal it?”

  “It’s Roo, you doofus.”

  “Roo You-Doofus? Sorry I don’t know a Roo You-Doofus.”

  “Alvin!”

  A muffled laugh on the other end. “Oh, well, I wouldn’t know what your voice sounds like anymore. Can’t remember the last time I spoke to you as you only seem to have ears for my soon to be wife. Should I be offended you haven’t actually called me?”

  “You know we’ve had super secret wedding stuff to talk about.”

  There was scuffling and feedback across the line and then Kitty came on. “Babe! You found my phone. I can’t tell you how grateful I am. I totally lost it! The last time I remembered seeing it was when I lent it to that nice nurse about… ahem… never mind. Wait, does that mean you’re in Margs?” Her voice sounded strained with the last words.

  “Yes I’m in Margs. Are you okay?”

  “I am now. I’m super excited. We can talk wedding plans in person. You can try on the bridesmaid dress!”

  “Sounds good. Where are you?”

  “At The Cauldron.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you soon.” I hung up the phone and eyed off Eve. “You didn’t hurt her, why?”

  “I told you once, and the fact still stands. We’re not all like that rotten soul, Petra. Some of us are trying to just get along.”

  Even though her aura conveyed her words to be true, a niggling feeling in my belly said not to trust her. It could also be the fact Marc stood behind Eve’s back miming “Don’t trust her” over and over.

  He walked around so she could see him. “But that’s not the truth, is it Eve? You don’t want to ‘just get along’. You want to go all the way to the Empire.”

  She took a deep breath and sat back down. Her finger traced a pattern on the table and her eyes looked inwards. “You know what I want. I have gone as far as I can on this planet. I’ve tried to make peace with the humans, but it’s not enough. They still treat women as second rate beings.”

  “Are you for real?” I said. “That’s because you witches invade female bodies! We’d made good headway for women’s liberation before you all waged war on humans, trying to take what you wanted. What did you think they’d let the possessed roam around willy-nilly?”

  “I admit, the war was a mistake. Since then, we’ve tried everything in our power to co-exist peacefully. We’ve healed their number one disease. We take only dying hosts and give them a new lease of life. They still treat us as separate.”

  “That’s because of witches like Petra.”

  Eve flattened her lips and turned away from me to Marc, clearly having had enough of our argument. “I want what you promised.”

  “I don’t have to do anything when I can end you right now,” he replied. “If you ask me, all this nonsense can be dealt with by removing the source of the problem.”

  Eve’s head snapped up with a scowl. “You made a blood pact with me.”

  Marc shrugged and made a show of checking his nails, apparently bored.

  Eve looked to me for support. “Tell him I’ve done nothing but help you. I’m not like the others.”

  “Why did you lie about your identity?” I asked.

  “Because I would’ve scared you off. And because I knew who you truly are. I kept your secret.”

  “My secret?”

  “Yes, that you’re the queen reincarnated in a Nephilim body. I knew the first moment I laid eyes on you.” She leaned forward in her chair. “Do you want to know how I knew?”

  My eyes darted to Marc. Eve’s words must have triggered his curiosity because he stopped inspecting his nails and focused his full attention on the witch.

  “I recognized your soul.” Eve cocked her head. “I was one of the first humans you created. Don’t you think a child always remembers her mother?”

  I shivered. Gross. “I’m not your mother. And I didn’t create witches.”

  “You’re everyone’s mother, dear. And you have the power to give and take it all away.”

  “Right, I think that’s quite enough from you, witch.” Marc lifted his hand, his aura crackled with surges of energy.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Eve said calmly. “I have information you need.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Don’t buy into her lies, Roo. She’s full of shite.”

  “I know where Urser’s lab is. The exact location,” Eve said.

  I gasped and caught Marc’s eyes. “We need to know.”

  “Blimey, love. I’m never taking you to a poker game.”

  “Where is it?”

  “No,” Marc said. “We don’t need her help. We’ll find it anyway. Best to get rid of her now.”

  Eve’s aura skipped a beat. It was the first sign of weakness I’d caught from her. Her brows lowered and her eyes darkened in a simmer at Marc. “Why do you hate me so much? What have I ever done to you?”

  Marc looked taken aback. He blinked a few times and sputtered. “It’s my job to rid the world of your kind. You’re a danger to the Simons.”

  “But me, personally? I haven’t hurt anyone.”

  “Now, now, I don’t think that’s quite true.”

  Eve’s frown deepened. “Fine. You don’t want to take my word? You want to push my hand? I may not have hurt your friend this time, but it doesn’t mean I don’t have a safeguard in place. I treated her today at the hospital. I had ample opportunity to cast a hex on her. Or maybe I added it all those months ago when I healed her.”

  “No,” I whispered. “You haven’t.”

  “You’ll never know, will you, and do you really want to take the risk?”

  “I say we waste her,” Marc said. “I’m too hungry to put up with her lies anymore.”

  “No, Marc. We can’t,” I said. “We can’t risk it.”

  “Love, a word. Sidebar.” Marc took hold of my hand and in a flash we
stood outside in the vineyard again.

  A slight sense of disorientation was all I felt. I must be getting used to the mode of traveling.

  “Love, I mean this in the most respectful way, but don’t believe a bloody word she says.”

  “I know that, Marc, but the simple fact is that there’s no way of knowing if she’s hexed Kitty or Alvin—but probably Kitty because she treated her at the hospital. Oh God. Why did Kitty need to go to hospital? What isn’t she telling me?” My heart thudded in my chest and suddenly I had trouble breathing. Either one of my friends could be in danger. A hex could turn their insides out, it could give them cancer, it could—

  Marc slapped me on the face. “Get a handle on it, woman.”

  “Marc!” My palm rose to cover the burn on my cheek. “What the hell?”

  “Sorry, love. You were cascading into hysteria.”

  “No I wasn’t.”

  “You weren’t?”

  “No! Maybe. I don’t know. Why did you do that?”

  He had the decency to look ashamed. “I saw it on the tele-box. I thought that’s what you do when a woman goes barmy.”

  “Remind me not to watch television with you.”

  “Um—okay. Right. Don’t tell the hunter. Well then… the hex. There’s no way of knowing if she cast it for sure?”

  “Well, I could probably sample some of their blood. It often tastes a little different when it’s been hexed. But with a witch her age and with her experience, she could easily find a way to get around that.”

  “Are you saying I actually have to take her to the Empire with me?”

  I shrugged. “Did you promise what you’d do with her once you got there?”

  His face deadpanned. “No, I didn’t.”

  “So, deal with her when she’s there. Entangle her atoms for all I care.”