Playing God (Game of Gods Book 3) Read online

  Cash walked me over to a gray mat on the opposite side of the room. As we walked, I couldn’t take my eyes off the two as they fought in hand-to-hand combat. No, hand-to-hand was the wrong description. Their moves were fluid and graceful, flying over the other, yet never touching. Like a dance. Yet, somehow, I didn’t think it was just for entertainment. Each move had purpose. Each thrust, swipe and arching kick had lethal power and agility. I didn’t realize that I’d stopped with my mouth open until Cash pulled up next to me.

  “Don’t get distracted.” Cash jabbed his fist towards my head. I blocked with my right on pure instinct. He circled me, slowly, like a predator, musculature rolling beneath his T-shirt. It reminded me of something dangerous beneath the water. “While we’re fighting, I’ll drill you on the written component of the trials. Okay?”

  “If you say so,” I replied.

  He circled me, fists balled in a boxer’s ready stance. “What did Jed teach you in Houston? Give me a run down.”

  I shrugged. “The basic stuff I guess. Just to defend myself.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like this.” Without warning, I stepped in, grabbed his shirt and used my body weight to knock him over.

  Well, that’s what I thought I did. He saw me coming and sidestepped, then placed his hands in a few strategic spots on my body. Lo-and-behold, I ended on the floor beneath his feet, and he ended with a smile on his face, staring down at me.

  “Okay.” I grunted. “That went well.”

  His smile faded. “That was the best you have?”

  I propped myself up on my elbow. “Am I allowed to use my abilities?”

  “Not here. There’s another room for that.”

  I flopped back down on the mat. The air had escaped the stitching on my descent and puffed out beneath me.

  “Great. Well, then, that was my best.”

  His gorgeous face appeared above mine, interrupting my view of the domed, white ceiling. “We have a lot of work to do. C’mon.”

  He held his hand out. I accepted with little enthusiasm.

  “Why can’t I use my abilities? And why is it so important I need to learn how to defend myself?”

  “For starters, you have to defend yourself from assassination attempts from other Players. In case you need reminding, you were attacked earlier.” His expression turned grim. “I haven’t forgotten about the bomb. You will explain later. For now, practice without powers.”

  “Can’t I just zap them?”

  “No, you can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “If you’re in a crowded street full of humans, do you think it’s likely you can reveal your powers to the world?”

  “Hmm. Okay. I see your point.”

  “Which leads me to the first question you’ll see on your test—what is the point of the Game?”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but he interrupted. “Think before you answer. Get this wrong and you owe me, oh I don’t know, let’s say ... wear a dress tonight.”

  My jaw dropped at his wolfish smile, but then I remembered the last time I wore a dress. It was at his apartment back in Houston. I also remembered how he’d kissed me that night. How he lifted me onto his kitchen counter top as though I weighed nothing, and how his fingers slipped up my thigh and under the dress and...

  A cheeky smile. “And if I get it right, what do you owe me?”

  “I’m sure I can think of something.”

  I held up my hand. “No need. I got it. Serve me dessert wearing my dress.”

  His eyebrow arched and laughed. “Okay. Deal. Now, what is the answer?”

  I laughed. “Seriously. You’d wear my dress? What’s the question again?”

  His face deadpanned.

  “Just kidding.” But was I?

  I searched my deepest darkest depths.

  The point of the Game. What had Marc said the first time we met? Evolution. That’s right. Evolution. But was that the answer? Was it so simple?

  “While you’re taking your incredibly sweet-ass time about your answer, I’ll show you how to unman your opponent.” He stepped toward me and did the correct version of what I attempted before. His hands hit me at a few random places and with the help of his foot, he threw me off balance.

  “Oomph.” I landed hard on the soft mat and saw stars, my ribs killing.

  “Did you see how I—”

  “Evolution,” I wheezed. “The point of the Game is Evolution.”

  Cash made a buzzing sound. “Wrong.”

  “What?” I pushed myself up. “No way. It’s not. Marc said the point of the Game was evolution. You gods download your bodies into these half-human shells and then try to outdo each other. And when you die, when your time on this planet is over, your souls return to your bodies at the Empire better off or worse off than before. Of course that’s depending on how you played the Game.”

  “While that answer is better than the first, it’s not completely right. But it’s your lucky day, I’ll give you another guess. Now come at me again, this time, copy the way I did it before.”

  I made an exasperated sound and attempted to put him down. He deflected, and I ended on the floor. Again.

  “What’s the answer? Keep going,” he said. “One more chance.”

  I screamed in frustration and stood up. Pressure built inside of me like a boiling kettle about to whistle.

  As if reading my mind, or my body, Cash eased off. “Careful now, you don’t want to lose control.”

  “Stuff you and your control.” I launched at him.

  He threw me down, grinning.

  “I will never get this.” I slammed my palms on the mat.

  “Yes, you will.” He lifted me by the hand. “Again. Concentrate.”

  I took a deep breath and made to move, then stopped. “This is unfair. Somehow, you know what move I will make. You know how to deflect. You’re using your abilities.”

  “Unlike yours, mine aren’t visible to the naked eye and I can’t turn them off. There are many others like me. You must think creatively. Try another way. Surprise me.”

  I remembered something Jed had been showing me back in Houston. Up from nowhere, another idea formed in my head.

  Straight strike to the nose. Hit your attacker with an open palm, pushing up on the nose with the bottom of your hand.

  Now, where would that come from?

  Leila.

  She was one of my passengers. The memory might have come from her. Leila took self-defense lessons down at the local youth center for years. After seeing the witch attack my mother, she’d been paranoid and learned how to defend herself. Pity it never helped her. But, maybe it would help me now.

  A warmth spread from the inside of my chest. She was still there. Looking out for me. Maybe it was only the evil Others who ran away when I was near Cash. Perhaps she was stronger around him, too. There was hope for me yet.

  I stepped back from Cash and sized him up. Definitely didn’t want to break his nose, but I had to do something. I closed my eyes and waited for another move to come to me. I envisioned it in my head, feeling it in my muscles and opened my eyes.

  He cracked his knuckles and gestured with his fingers in the universal “come here” way.

  In two-seconds flat, I had him on his side on the floor, my left hand on his collarbone, my right locked his arm to the side at an odd angle. If he moved an inch, he’d dislocate himself. He knew it. I had him.

  “You owe me a dress.”

  “What?” I stepped off.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Yes, I did. The point of the Game is evolution.”

  “No, the result of the Game is evolution.”

  I made another frustrated sound and kicked the air. “I don’t see the point of all this! That’s what I don’t see.”

  “You mean the training?” He got up and made a jab at me.

  I deflected, feeling proud. “Yes! What’s the point of learning how to go to war if we’re not allowed to
go to war?” I returned the jab. He blocked.

  “Who said we’re not allowed to go to war?” He made a one-two punch, then stepped into my space and went for my collar.

  I deflected with one hand, but his other moved in to take its spot, and another. I panted with effort. “Players aren’t allowed to go to war using the humans as pawns, right? I thought Marc said something like that.”

  Jab. Block. Jab.

  “Yes, but Players can war with Players. And often, when Marc’s away, humans join in the war anyway. We’re not allowed to manipulate humans, but if they choose to war on their own… it’s a blurred line. The last time Marc left for an extended duration, the Second World War happened.”

  He threw me down. Again.

  But this time I brought him down with me, changed our momentum and rolled on top of him. I squeezed his torso between my thighs, holding his shoulders with my palms. Initially shocked, his eyes became steady.

  “Well done,” he said.

  I smiled, but didn’t let go. This was too good. Cash beneath me. I had a flash of what he might look like tonight—under me, in his bed—a girl could hope. My heart kicked against my ribcage. My grip weakened.

  He hit the inside of my elbow, collapsed it, and then changed our positions. He pinned me beneath him, leaving me weak and compliant. Putty in his hands.

  He lowered to my ear and whispered: “I can tell when you’re aroused.”

  I gasped.

  He pulled back with a self-satisfied smile and I squirmed beneath his scrutiny. His amusement dropped, and he swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing.

  I meaningfully nudged my hips into his. “And I can tell when you are.”

  We gazed at each other. Then he rolled off me, sat back on the mat and lifted his knees up. He scrubbed the back of his neck. “Quick. Talk about something else.”

  We laughed awkwardly, aware other people shared the room with us.

  It felt good. To laugh with him. It felt right.

  “So what is the point of the Game then?” I positioned myself in front of him and sat on my haunches.

  His voice came out strangled. “The aim of the Game is to make a positive change in the world without revealing… ahem… our true nature.”

  “Make a positive change? But that’s so vague.”

  “Mm.” He sounded distracted, eyes still molten, caught on my lips.

  “Cash. What does that mean?”

  “It, ah… it… What was the question?” He blinked rapidly as if clearing his mind. “Oh yeah. The purpose. It could mean anything to anyone. There’s a lot of leeway,”

  “That’s shitty.”

  “I know. You don’t know how you’ve done until you either evolve or devolve on return to your Seraphim body.”

  “And are there any guidelines?”

  “Be good to your mentor and do everything he tells you to do.”

  Heat rushed to my face but I couldn’t help smiling. He flirted with me. “What’s with you today, Cash Samson?”

  Stormy eyes widened.

  I echoed his movement. “Are there any real guidelines?”

  “Wear a dress tonight, and I’ll tell you.”

  “That’s blackmail.” I rose to my knees and shoved his unmovable body.

  He caught my wrists and gave me a bigger grin. “No, it’s bribery.”

  I used my body weight to pull him back down to the mat, intending to roll him again, but he held me firm. I frowned. “You’d really gamble my freedom on a stupid cover for my body?”

  His expression turned deadly serious, and he took me by the shoulders, dipping his head until we were eye level. “Roo, when it comes to your body, I couldn’t be more serious. Just… come to my place.”

  I kneed him in the gut. He rolled off me, laughing, clutching his middle, hair falling to shade his eyes.

  I hadn’t seen this side of him since, well, since Tommy. The playful, carefree part of him was breaking free. He was becoming someone else.

  Someone I liked. More than liked.

  My lips curved into a slow smile and I rolled to my side to watch him. When he caught me looking, his expression softened. “I’m sorry. I can’t help baiting you. You bring out this side of me I can’t control.”

  “I noticed.” He joked about me wearing the dress, but I sensed there was more to it—he wanted me with him, away from my father and the dangers at his apartment.

  The sound of people entering the room mixed with the buzz of their auras. There was always someone around at the Ludus. Privacy was short lived. I stood up and turned my back on Cash to catch my breath.

  No secrets, he’d said. I agreed. Tonight was my chance to tell him about The Others.

  We spent the next two hours running through drills and questions for the for the test. It was hard to remember so many things but, while my mind was busy with his questions, my instincts took over for my body. I fought better than I’d ever done before. I wanted the dirty feeling of mistrust to sweat out of my body, so attacked, relentlessly. Leila’s memories floated to the surface as if they were my own, helping me with strategy. I’d planted Cash on the floor more than once and landed a few sweet punches. I had a feeling he let me, but it still felt good. We’d gone quiet by the end. No words, just raw action.

  By the time we left the room, our bodies were sore, silent and serious.

  “Is something wrong?” Cash asked as he walked me back to my rooms.

  “Maybe.”

  “Roo, I’ll tell you everything tonight. No more secrets.”

  I took a few steps without a word. Those few expanded into a dozen, and then into more until we stood in front of the Urser apartment.

  “I’ll tell you everything, too,” I said, bringing my fingernails to my mouth, chewing. “So you can trust me.”

  A crease etched between his brows. He almost said something, but changed his mind. His eyes told me enough, they glistened with emotion. The surprise of my confession worried him but he didn’t push it. Instead, he glanced at the closed door. “What’s the plan then?”

  “I don’t have my phone, but I’ll get Lincoln on my side enough to borrow his. As soon as I get photos of the lab papers in Bruce’s room, I’ll send them to you, then delete the evidence. I’ll come over after that. Shouldn’t be long.”

  “Good. I don’t like the idea of you staying here one more night.”

  The door opened. We shut up.

  My father’s eyes narrowed and focused on Cash. “You.”

  “Bruce.” Cash met him, pound for cold-hard pound of ego. Cash calling him by his common first name didn’t go unnoticed. Being a military man, my father demanded Cash call him General Urser when he was a subordinate of his House. Now, Bruce had no authority over Cash. My father lowered his gaze first—he checked his watch.

  “Six o’clock,” he said to me.

  “Is that supposed to mean something?”

  “Business hours are over. Training is over. Dinner is in half an hour. Your dress is in your room.”

  I shrugged. “I’m still failing to see the point.”

  “Must you be so insolent every time I speak to you?” He narrowed his eyes again. “Every night until the trials, you must fulfill your royal duty and attend dinner with our major Houses.”

  “If you attended training today, like most—” I was going to say “other mentors” but stopped myself. He wasn’t my mentor. Cash was. I bit my tongue then took a deep breath. “The Tribunal has ruled that you can’t keep me confined in these rooms. I’m free to roam wherever I like and see whoever I like.”

  “I know. I was there.” The violent warning in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed, but his aura didn’t waver. “Business hours, you are his. After that, you are mine.”

  “Dinner is not a royal duty.”

  “And I suppose you know what is?”

  He had me there.

  I turned to Cash for help, but he looked as lost as I felt.

  We needed Marc. He’d only been gone a few days, but I fe
lt the loss of his presence tangibly. Sometimes it seemed to me these Watchers just made up their own convenient rules. For all of his flightiness, Marc would know exactly what to say to my father.

  I swallowed, getting ready to do something, but Cash placed a palm on my arm.

  “It’s okay,” he said, calming me. “I’ll see you after dinner for some business overtime.”

  “Overtime wasn’t specified in the Tribunal agreement,” Bruce said.

  “And it wasn’t specifically denied, either,” Cash replied to him, then looked at me. “I’m in between Lyra House and Vernalis House in the guest apartments.”

  “Fine.” I grit my teeth. “I’ll see you later. For dessert.”

  I left Cash with a crooked smile on his face.

  Bruce’s face was blank, but his aura skipped.

  And that put a smile on my face.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  AS I ENTERED the Urser House apartment, I noticed the table formally set again. This time, there was a cook in the kitchen, and a housekeeper fluffing about the living room. A waiter prepared ice and drinks. Three staff! Must be important.

  Lincoln opened his door when I passed as though he’d been waiting for me. He leaned on the door frame, tuxedo inside out, a toothbrush in his mouth. “Cutting it close, sis.”

  I frowned. That word.

  Sis.

  It had never gone down well with me. Not when Leila said it, laden with all the guilt. Not when Petra said it, heavy with evil. Now, he used it freely. I had to watch myself and not forget my true purpose here. The dinners, the familial banter. It was all fake. Wasn’t it?

  A sense of unease settled in my bones. Cash was right. I should have moved in with him. But first, I had to find out what that serum was being used for and when. I needed photos of the list.

  In order for them to not see me a threat, I had to make them think I belonged. Starting with Lincoln.

  I shot him a mysterious smile. “I’m taking pointers from the master.” When he didn’t catch my drift, I elaborated. “From you, Lincoln.”

  “Oh.” He smiled back, chest puffing out. He saluted me with his toothbrush. “May your pots be well stirred.”

  His smile was genuine as though he really enjoyed the idea of some sibling team-up rebellion. That thought stirred something inside, and I thought perhaps using him wouldn’t be as easy as I thought.