Playing God (Game of Gods Book 3)

by Lana Pecherczyk

  After entering my room, as expected, I found a plastic dress bag on the bed. I didn’t bother opening it to see what was inside. I wouldn’t wear it. Instead, I showered, dried my hair and put on a touch of makeup. With a towel wrapped around my body, I re-entered the bedroom and stood in front of the bed. My eyes lingered on the dress in its wrapper.

  “Screw you, dress,” I said to the air. I would not be boxed into a compliant woman for anyone. Even Cash. I’d do this on my own terms.

  I riffled through my recently stocked drawers for some underwear. Still no sign of my real suitcase or phone. My fingers landed on a pair of red, lacy lingerie and hesitated. I smiled. Well, maybe I could give Cash something else. Like I said before, not the main course, but dessert.

  I ripped the store tags off and put the underwear on. Perfect fit. Briefs and a soft cup, lacy bra. Then I slipped on a fresh pair of jeans and a navy blue, sleeveless blouse—inside out. The inseams stuck out. Excellent. Just like Lincoln’s fashion sense. With a pair of ballet flats, and my hair tousled up high in a bun, I looked like your average mentally ill girl. No royal princess in sight. A thrill skipped up my spine when I thought of my father’s reaction to my outfit. If he got angry, well, it would be at both Lincoln and myself.

  The doorbell rang, and I heard its muffled sound through the apartment, to my room. Couldn’t have happened sooner. It had been a long day, and I was tiring.

  I gave one last glance at the room, knowing I wouldn’t be returning. My gaze snagged on the Ducati keys and I quickly shoved them in my pocket. There was nothing else I wanted to keep.

  Show time.

  When I entered the living room, our guests were milling about the dining table, making their introductions and small talk with my father. All eyes landed on me as I sauntered up to them, surprised to see a friendly face.

  “Wren,” I said gleefully.

  The petite girl smiled at me. She wore a blue dress, in a retro fifties style, similar to the style Kitty favored back home. Yet, this version wasn’t a thrift shop variety. It was probably vintage Channel. I sighed at the thought. Kitty would love it. I hadn’t spoken to her or Alvin for days. I hadn’t forgotten about them, just didn’t want them involved in any of this. My aim was to get through the trials, and back to Margaret River where I could start my new, boring life. My spirits lifted for a moment. Hopefully with Cash.

  If he doesn’t hate you for lying. I almost jumped at the sound of The Others in my head and checked to see if Wren noticed my oddness, but her eyes flittered over my shoulder and then dropped to her feet, a blush staining her sweet cheeks. I followed her gaze and noted my brother waltz in with a swagger that looked better on Marc, but suited him nonetheless. Could it be that Wren was being betrothed to Lincoln… and she liked it? He mentioned duties to fulfill. Maybe tonight was all about him.

  My hopes dashed when a taller boy with droopy, down-turned eyes moved from behind the older Watcher talking with Bruce. He wore a white shirt and a brown, three piece suit and tie. It looked expensive, but he appeared just as uncomfortable in it as I had been in my fancy dress last night. His messy short hair and fingernails had traces of ink as though something splattered on him. Interesting. He caught me looking at his nails and self-consciously put his hands in his pockets.

  When I checked their mentor, he was a familiar face from the depository. He was the one who ignored me when I tried to ask for directions. Friar Tuck hairstyle. He also dressed smartly and had a whale pin on his lapel.

  When he noticed me, a flicker of surprise swam over it. Next to him, Bruce took in my attire and narrowed his eyes. Tonight, he wore a tux with a golden brooch shaped like a bear. His nostrils flared at my outfit, his aura spiked, but he said nothing. If he secretly planned my murder, I’d never know. His lack of response was almost more frustrating than his outbursts.

  “Shall we?” Bruce gestured to the table.

  The two Watchers sat at one end of the table, of course my father was at the head. I made a beeline for Wren and made sure I sat next to her. Lincoln sat in his spot next to the new kid, except he was looking at me, tapping his chin, nodding at my blouse.

  “Didn’t think you had it in you, sis.”

  I smirked and gave him a mock salute. Let him think we were partners in rebellious crime.

  “Now that everyone is seated, let me make the formal introductions. Mathieson Cetus, I believe you know my progeny, Lincoln Urser, and across from him is my… uh… daughter La Roux Urser.”

  Mathieson cleared his throat and squinted at me. The fine lines around the edges of his eyes drew my attention to other fine wrinkles on his skin. It was the first time I’d seen a Seraphim with wrinkles. He must be old indeed. Wren had mentioned he was one of the first scientists who helped create the human race in the image of the gods. He would know things. Lab things. Perhaps soul things.

  Bruce didn’t bother introducing Wren or her friend to me. We obviously weren’t important. He told the chef to serve the first course then continued to speak privately with Mathieson. Within moments, we had a table full of Michelin starred quality food. Excessive.

  “So, Wren,” I said, for all to hear. “Who is your friend?”

  Wren didn’t have time to respond because her friend did.

  “My name is Cygnus. I’m not her friend.” He waved the waiter down for a refill of his drink.

  Not her friend? What kind of rude nonsense was that?

  About as rude as asking someone else what his name was, The Others said.

  I didn’t like how they seemed so close by. So in my ear. Suddenly, Cash’s absence was felt acutely. Without him, they were stronger. I slipped my fingers into my pocket and located the Ducati keyring. The embossed logo felt reassuring to stroke and reminded me of what I had waiting at the end of the night. Just a few more hours.

  Wren placed a soft hand on my arm. “He’s my sibling.”

  “Sorry, that was rude of me to ask like that. Nice to meet you Cygnus, I’m Roo.”

  The rest of the night moved on without a hitch. We were half way through the main course, and I thought it was the best time to weasel a bit of information from my companions. I sent a furtive glance to the head of the table. Still busy in a serious discussion.

  “So,” I started. “I don’t know if you heard, but I’m pretty new to all this.”

  “That’s an understatement.” Lincoln laughed.

  “Exactly. What kind of juicy gossip can you share. What have I missed out on?”

  Wren wrinkled her nose. “Juicy gossip?”

  Cygnus shrugged stiffly. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  I rolled my eyes at Lincoln. “C’mon, bro. Surely you’ve got something exciting to tell me. You seem to be all over the underground scene here.”

  “There ain’t nothing I do that is underground. I’m an open book.”

  “So are we.” Cygnus appeared confused.

  Oh Jeez, what’s it going to take? I spooned a mouthful of food into my mouth and chewed, thinking on what to say next. “So, without seeming forward, can I take it that we’re all matched with each other for this breeding thing that everyone is pretending is going to happen only if we fail?”

  Wren’s fork clattered to the plate.

  I looked up and found Cygnus and Lincoln staring at me.

  “What? Did I say something I shouldn’t?”

  “Nah, sis, it’s just that, we don’t really talk about it.”

  I lowered my voice. “Well, we should talk about it. Don’t you think it’s wrong they’re making plans as though we’ve already failed?”

  It was Cygnus who replied. “There’s no other way. Every round of the Game, the heads of the houses, specifically the royals, have to create fresh bloodlines. Without it, the Game would be over.”

  “So, what about what we want? Do we get a say in passing?”

  They all shrugged.

  “Who else is a royal?” I asked, suspecting I already knew the answers—every name on that list.

/>   “Well,” Wren said. “There’s different levels of royals and the other Ludus’s have more, but here in Australia, Urser, of course, is at the top. Then there’s Epsilon, Aldebaran, Cetus, Corvus and Lyra. Oh, and Jacine is in town, so her House…”

  “Vernalis,” Cygnus said.

  “Yeah, that’s right. Vernalis.”

  I ground my teeth. That’s the House Cash said his apartment was near.

  “So, what about this prince I hear about? Shouldn’t he be doing this as well? I would’ve thought he had the most pure blood.”

  Silence again.

  Then Wren leaned into me. “No one has seen him. Ever. Not since the day he rebelled against his mother. Well, that’s what we’ve heard.”

  “You know what I think?” Lincoln said. “I think he doesn’t exist. I think he’s a bogeyman story told to little Players to make them do as they're told.”

  Wren’s eyes lit up. “We were told he can separate from his body and poison you from the inside.”

  “I heard he knows everything… like he can follow you without you knowing,” Lincoln added.

  While I enjoyed seeing the light of connection flare between Lincoln and Wren, I was getting nowhere uncovering Bruce’s plan. Without specifically saying to them, What are the experiments for? I had no idea what else to say. I checked the time. We were almost done with dinner. I needed to get Lincoln’s phone.

  “What about—” I started.

  “Shh.” Cygnus glanced at the grownups, who were now more animated in their private conversation, their voices growing louder.

  “How do we know your offer is authentic?” Mathieson wiped his chin with a cloth. “You will have to do better than that.”

  “You will have to better than fifty.”

  “Fifty!” Mathieson slammed his napkin on the table. “That’s a remarkable figure considering the source pool.”

  “You’ll get proof when you meet my price.”

  Mathieson sucked his teeth. “But that’s bleeding me dry. I’ll be empty after that. If this doesn’t work, I’m done.”

  “As are the rest of us if we don’t do something.”

  “Fine. Seventy-three. That’s all of them.”

  “Done.”

  They shook hands.

  Then my father looked directly at me.

  Something was wrong.

  All my senses lit up in warning. I couldn’t breathe with the power of it.

  “Lincoln, would you take your betrothed to your room and close the door? There’s something we need to discuss with the other two. In private.”

  “But we haven’t had dessert—”

  “Now.” My father’s voice boomed across the dining room. The floor shook with his power.

  Lincoln and Wren jumped up from their seats. Wren gave me a concerned glance then followed Lincoln who closed the door behind him.

  “Stand up, both of you,” Bruce said. “Roo, come here.”

  Cygnus took a deep breath, but stood.

  He didn’t scare me. I clutched the keyring until it cut into my palm. I remained in my seat.

  “I was hoping you’d resist,” my father said.

  Then I saw his mouth move, but I didn’t remember the word. Everything after that point went blurry. My body tingled. Blackness encroached my vision. I had just enough time to wonder what was happening, then—

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I WOKE UP with a metallic taste in my mouth. I must have bit my tongue in my sleep.

  Wait a minute.

  Sleep. I rolled around on my bed in the semi-light, testing the rumpled surface beneath me. Definitely a bed. The fake window showed dawn breaking over mountains, painting the sky in purples and yellows. The light bounced off every surface in the room, including a tiny porcelain hobby horse on my bedside table. That hadn’t been there before.

  When did I go to sleep?

  Shit.

  In fact, when did I go to bed?

  Frantically, I ran my mind back to the last thing I could remember. Dinner. Wren was there. I met her brother. Cygnus. He wasn’t so bad. Cute, in a puppy sort of way, but a little stiff. I supposed that’s what happened when your nose was in a book all day. Or in his case, a machine. The black oil on his fingers had been from building things. Wren said he had a knack for making machinery work. He seemed to like me too. I remembered thinking I made more friends. That was until Bruce sent Wren out of the room with Lincoln.

  My nerves itched.

  I had blacked out.

  The last thing I remembered was Cygnus’s horror as he stared at my eyes. Why had he been afraid, and why did I pass out?

  I shot up in bed.

  Double shit!

  Cash.

  After dinner, I was supposed to go to his place. Now it was morning. He would think I changed my mind.

  I slung my feet off the edge of the bed. I still wore my outfit from the night before. Inside-out blouse and jeans.

  What the hell?

  My legs were jelly when I put weight on them. The second I stood upright, blackness clouded my vision and I was forced to wait until the dizzy stars went away.

  While I waited, I spotted another note in Leila’s handwriting. I snatched it off the dresser.

  You’re part of the experiment.

  Horrific thoughts flooded my mind. My blackouts. The Others. Leila had written the last note when The Others took over. This meant only one thing. They did it again. I was part of the experiment. All those names against the lab results. What if my name was now in that book? Or worse… what if they were using me to do the experimenting? That meant Bruce could know about The Others.

  Panic laced with fury rose inside me so violently that I clenched my teeth to the point of pain. I was fuming. Livid. I shoved on some shoes and ripped open my door. Immediately, I opened Lincoln’s door.

  In the center of his room, he slept soundly on a bed. Bare-chested and wearing a pair of designer boxer shorts.

  Behind him, the fake window showed a different scene to mine. The sky, equal amounts of purple and blue with the dawn, was beautiful. It rained on the field of horses, creating a soft ambient white noise for sleep.

  Lincoln had changed out of his tuxedo, but I hadn’t undressed. Little things niggled at my senses. I didn’t like this. I didn’t like this one bit.

  My fists opened and closed, pumping as I watched my brother sleep.

  And then: “Wake up.” I shoved him.

  “Huh—what? Where’s the fire?” He opened his eyes and rubbed them. “Sis? You’re awake.”

  “Damn straight I’m awake. What the hell happened last night?”

  He smiled sheepishly and closed his eyes dreamily. “Last night I had the time of my life. That girl from Lyra House really knows how to move in the bedroom. Must be that Lyra affinity with music and rhythm.”

  “What the fuck, Lincoln, when did you have time for a booty call?”

  “What the fuck, yourself. Dinner got canceled because of you, sleepy head—and you know how daddy dearest hates to cancel those dinners.” His eyes widened, and he sat up. “Oh, you don’t know.”

  “Don’t know what?”

  “You’ve been asleep for days, sis.”

  My blood ran cold. “Say again?”

  “You were so tired after dinner with Cetus House that you went straight to bed. You didn’t wake up.”

  I lost control of my legs and perched on the edge of his bed.

  “How long was I out?”

  “Three days. I came and sat with you for a bit. Left you a little something.”

  “Lincoln—” He sat with me? The hobby horse. That was from him. I didn’t know what to think. Three days… That would explain the weak legs and hunger. “Why didn’t anyone do something?”

  “As long as you woke up today, there was nothing to do.”

  “What’s today?”

  “The first trial.”

  Vomit.

  I wasn’t ready.

  Lincoln hit the lamp on his side-t
able and the room illuminated. The purple sky in the fake window adjusted to allow more light in the room as though it read Lincoln’s need. The rain stopped and bright morning sun bloomed in the scenery revealing a field of horses whinnying and nibbling at the grass. He picked up his watch from the side-table.

  “In half an hour, actually.”

  “Half an hour?”

  “That’s what I said.” He rolled off his bed and slipped on the discarded clothes he found on the floor. “Suppose I better make a show of actually trying to pass.”

  I had to find Cash.

  But I had no time.

  A stab of pain gripped my stomach, and I doubled over, clenching it.

  Jeez, I was hungry.

  Lincoln brushed past me, dressed haphazardly, and went into the hall, leaving the door open behind him. The smell of breakfast cooking caused my stomach to clench in sharp agony. Yup. I hadn’t eaten in days. I wiped my eyes and cautiously followed my nose to the table where my father and brother sat.

  The surreal picture my eyes took was of a traditional suburban family.

  Oddly, Bruce read the newspaper, and Lincoln nibbled over a bowl of cereal, checking the latest on his phone. The phone I never got to borrow for reconnaissance.

  My father glanced up from his paper. “You’re awake.”

  I was desperate to eat, but I had to know. “What happened to me after dinner?”

  “Sit down and have something to eat.”

  “No.” I dug my heals in. “I need to know.”

  “You got tired and went to bed. You slept for a while.”

  “No, before that. Why did you speak with Cygnus and I?”

  He folded the paper. “We needed to speak with the two of you privately about your arrangement.”

  I glanced at Lincoln but he ignored me and ate his food, metal spoon clinking on the china bowl.

  “Is everything okay, Roo-Roo? You look a little, unsettled.”

  Bruce’s use of my childhood nickname sent a flood of nostalgia and helplessness rushing through me. My tears threatened to come back. My fingers heated, wanting to spark. This slip in control must be my survival instincts manifesting.