A Sinister Game

  It had been an historical day. Today, Simon Roon, now the chief of operations for the entire Field, had finally gotten to work on the black boxes. There had indeed been many created by the Game Lord. Hundreds.

  Each one represented the deaths of two champions of the gods.

  In a memorial ceremony honoring those who had been lost in this manner, Simon opened the boxes all back up again. The display of light was dazzling. Cold and fire mingled in rising streams from each makeshift lantern, crackling and sparkling as they rose to the heavens.

  A wind picked up in the clearing, and the hundreds of players remaining on the Field lowered their heads in a show of respect.

  Victor and Victoria alone were the only two who had been left alive by the Game Lord and his use of the black boxes. When their box was opened, the streams of cold and heat strode, not toward the sky, but toward them instead.

  The Game Lord had drained Victoria of every ability but one, her ability to heal. But when her light beam hit her and surrounded her in a cocoon of energy, she closed her eyes and felt reborn. She was once more whole – a champion of Loki, a true light leader again.

  Now, Victoria touched the crystal pendant she still wore around her neck. She smiled a strange smile. There was a kind of sadness that came with successfully changing the world. When it was done… it was done.

  She sighed softly and lowered her hand to place them both on the railing. She peeked over it to see the Gamers far below, their torches and candles lit, their firecrackers sizzling across the ground. They were partying as if there were no tomorrow. In a way, they were right on one count. Now that the wall had been removed, everyone would age at a normal rate. Hence, there were far fewer tomorrows left now than there had been before.

  They were waiting for her down there. Victor was waiting. He was treating her to dinner tonight.

  But… she hesitated.

  It would be the first time they’d had a chance to be alone since….

  Since he’d proposed his Game.

  Victoria recalled the way he’d held her wrist after she’d used the last of her strength to save his life. She saw the look in his eyes. She closed her eyes as she remembered his words: “Got you.”

  A shiver coursed through her, a tremor of the kind that sent warmth spreading across her stomach and made her mouth water. Her skin tingled at the next breeze.

  But if I find you, and if I capture you…. Then you’ll join me. You'll give yourself to me for one night.

  The words of his wager echoed through her mind. She heard his voice form them, his accent bend them, and her knees grew weak.

  Suddenly, she was wishing that the rumors about a light leader’s ability to fly had not been just that – rumors.

  It turned out there were actually two things to fear in the world. One was never getting what you wanted. And the other was getting it, after all. For there was no denying that Victoria wanted Victor Black. But the man terrified her. He was six and a half feet of black-clad muscle that seemed to positively tower over her. He was a maelstrom of power encased in a hard body. There were those lips of his that smiled at her with just a hint of cruelty, and that hair that looked like raven’s wings and made her want to run her hands through it over and over.

  And those eyes….

  Those impossibly green eyes that took everything in. Everything. He missed nothing. He was smart, Victor Black. How could she not fear him? Never trust a perceptive, intellectual man, especially when he also looked like a god.

  Giving in to him, letting him touch her…. Oh, it might just kill her.

  “Fly away,” she whispered to the wind. If she could fly away, she wouldn’t have to worry. She would have at least one more day.

  The wind picked up around her, brushing through her hair, and Victoria smiled. It felt good. She lifted her arms at her sides and relished in the feel of the hard, chilled air wrapping around her as if it were pulling her into an embrace.

  But it was time to go. Victor… Victor would not be kept waiting for long.

  Victoria opened her eyes and looked down.

  Her breath caught in her throat. A split second later, it broke free again, and she screamed.

  *****

  “Twenty after eight,” Thor replied. It was less than a minute after the last time Victor had asked him what time it was. But the party didn’t start until nine. “If you like, I can make time go a little faster,” Thor offered.

  Victor shot him a look. “You’ve done that once already,” he smiled. “And don’t think I don’t appreciate it, but you may be doing harm elsewhere, don’t you think?”

  Thor shrugged. “I’ll blame it on Loki.”

  Victor turned to look out at the former Red Tower once more. From his suite in the Gray Tower, he had the perfect view.

  “She’s an amazing woman, Victoria Red,” Thor ventured softly. In the massive cleanup that had taken place after the wall had come down, Victoria Red had made it clear that she wished to be called by the name she readily recognized, even if it wasn’t her birthright.

  Others from inside the wall had followed, keeping their Game-given names. Everyone seemed to be okay with that. So, Rose Tyrnan remained Victoria Red.

  Victor couldn’t argue with Thor’s assessment. “Yes, she is.”

  “You’ve fallen for her, then.”

  He paused before replying this time. But Thor was a god, and there was no point in not being honest.

  “Yes.” He turned to face his friend.

  Thor nodded to himself. “You know Loki wants to bring Red to Valhalla when she dies. And Ullr wants you, Victor.” He rubbed his bearded chin and shook his head. “I can see the fights now that Red will start.” He rolled his eyes. “The warriors will kill each other a thousand times over for a chance to touch her.”

  Victor’s green eyes flashed at the thought. The ground beneath his feet crackled with spreading ice. “No,” he said. “They won’t.”

  Thor’s eyes twinkled. He raised his chin. “Is it as I thought, then?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You were right the first time Black,” Thor told him, shaking his head. “There’s no point in lying to a god.” He smiled a knowing smile. “You’re going to ask her to marry you tonight, aren’t you?”

  Victor hesitated. Then he placed his hand to his chest. In the breast pocket of his jacket was a ring. It was black gold, and its centerpiece was carved smoothly out of a single clear smoky quartz. It was a rose.

  “She’s all I’ve thought of since her arrival here fifteen years ago, Thor. Every night, I’ve dreamt of her.”

  “I know,” said Thor.

  “All I won from her is one bloody night.” He ran his hand through his hair then as fear once more blossomed in his gut. He’d been terrified to collect on what was rightfully his. She’d lost their Game; he’d caught her. But he knew in his heart that one night would never be enough… and he was afraid to let it come to pass. Having her like that, and then for all intents and purposes losing her – it would kill him.

  “She consumes my every waking thought. I close my eyes and I smell her hair. I hear her voice.”

  “That would be the work of the fates, Victor. You two were meant to be together. And if you’re married when you’re taken to Valhalla, the others will think twice about going after your bride, then won’t they?”

  Victor studied Thor. The god was in his true form now, a seven foot-tall blonde man with muscles the size of transporter cubes. It still struck him as mind-boggling that his best friend was the thunder god.

  “You look like Ullr, you know,” Thor said as he stood up and strode casually across the room to Victor’s liquor cabinet. He pulled out a bottle of very strong alcohol, popped the top off of it, and took a swig before he continued. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re his bastard son.” He shook his head. “The man sleeps around a lot.”

  Victor’s brows rose.

  But Thor changed the subject as if turni
ng a switch. “You love her, don’t you?”

  “Then go after her, Black. Quit wasting precious time.” He took another swig of liquor and then smiled an outright wicked grin. “An’ when she says ‘yes’ and you finally take her to your bed, I promise not to watch.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Five minutes later, Victor strode through the promenade, nodding at those who greeted him and stepping out of the way of the fireworks they were lighting.

  He searched the crowds of faces, scanning them for one in particular. Victoria should have already been down here by now. She had been planning on coming down early to see some friends before their dinner.

  But he couldn’t find her. And he didn’t feel her.

  Victor froze. Had he heard something? It was faint, but it sounded vaguely like….

  He frowned and made his way to the nearest transporter cube. There were several players gathered around it, sharing drinks and talking. He asked them if they’d seen Victoria get off of the cube.

  None of them had.

  Victor’s blood cooled in his veins, a side effect of mounting emotions. He moved on, heading toward the transporter cube across the promenade.

  There was that sound again. He froze in his tracks and cocked his head to the side to listen. He could swear he’d just heard someone scream.

  He closed his eyes and reached out with his mind.

  There.

  They were a mass of frantic thoughts, jumbled and senseless. But he knew whom they belonged to all the same; the signature was as hot and sensuous as was its owner.

  Victoria!

  In record time, he took the transporter cube to her tower and then to her suite. He entered easily, the door unlocked.

  He could smell the shampoo she had used, but she was gone. The windows to the balcony were open. He moved toward them. With his heart in his throat and his brow breaking out in a cold sweat, he stepped out onto the platform.

  And looked down. Players had gathered to party down below. If she’d fallen from here, they would have seen her.

  She hadn’t fallen.

  Victor closed his eyes, steadied his breathing, and relaxed a little. He reached out again, stretching the fingers of his telepathic power into the night.

  He caught something again, faint and ever so distant. She was still alive.

  But where was she?

  He froze as a sudden stream of words raced like a flutterby through his mind.

  I’m flying… my god… believe I’m doing this!

  *****

  Victoria’s heart hammered so painfully, she was certain she was going to have a coronary. The world spun away below her. It blurred behind the tears that had built in her wind-blown eyes. And yet, despite the terror of her looming mortality, Victoria could not deny there was a part of her that felt genuinely happy.

  I can fly, she thought, her smile ear to ear even as tears streamed down her cheeks. I’m flying! I’m really flying! If she fell and crashed, she would die having broken the bonds of gravity. She would die a bird who had lost its wings, but had yet tasted the freedom of flight.

  A cloud floated through her legs. Unbelievable. Moisture drenched her red gown, and she didn’t care. She felt no cold. It must have been freezing up there in the un-fallen rain and unborn sunsets, but she didn’t feel it. This was a dream come true. There was no pain in a dream come true.

  She’d left the earth behind.

  My god, she thought. My god, I’m flying…. I can’t believe I’m doing it!

  You always had it in you Rose, her sister told her.

  Victoria laughed out loud, the sound caught up by the night and whipped away from her. She’d always wanted this. She’d yearned for this one ability above the others.

  Up here, there was only her. Nothing could get her up here.

  She was alone. I’m alone, she thought. Alone with Andromeda, with mom and dad, and with the gods that created me.

  *****

  “I’ve got her.”

  Victor’s head snapped up. He looked at the screen over the head of the man seated in front of him at the console. The techie, Marvis Jorn, was one of the Arthurs who’d decided to remain behind and help Victor and Victoria work on changing the Field. They’d all changed their names and now served under Simon Roon. Victor had to admit they all smiled a lot more. He’d even seen them dating – real women, this time.

  “Where is that?” Victor asked, his tone urgent.

  Marvis punched a few quick buttons. “It’s about sixteen miles northwest, in outside sector nineteen.”

  Victor stood and stared at the blinking light on the screen. He had never given Victoria the pill that would have deactivated her tracking device. He’d never had the opportunity, and now he was eternally grateful that he’d forgotten.

  “I want a transporter cube set to that location,” he told the techie. “Is it possible?”

  Marvis thought it over for a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he looked over the screen. He nodded. “I think so, but it’ll take me about an hour or so. Maybe a little longer.”

  Victor took a deep breath, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Patience had never been one of his virtues. “Get it done as quickly as possible.”

  *****

  She grew accustomed to the sensations, learned control over her own rise and fall, and little by little, any remaining fear she had slipped away. Rain dampened her hair and coated her flesh. The night grew long. It might have been forever, or maybe only the course of a few hours, but eventually Victoria grew weary and knew she had to come back down again.

  Up ahead, a plateau painted itself purple in the moonlight.

  Victoria imagined herself landing, easily, softly, at the center of the clearing.

  She landed just as she wanted. Her dress shoes touched down with the gentlest of impacts. But in the solitude that presented itself, Victoria realized something disconcerting.

  She was far from the towers and the Field. And she was lost.

  *****

  Victor finally stepped out of the hastily re-routed transporter cube and into a forest. Up ahead, fires burned. He could see their light through the spaces in the trees. At once, he reached out with his mind.

  She was there.

  She was alive.

  She was… sleeping?

  Victor blinked. He followed the beckoning lights until he was stepping out onto a plateau of a forested mountainside. The small clearing jutted out from the side of a cliff whose limestone had been smoothed out over the years to the point of being polished. The rock reflected the light that came from a circle of light leader created campfires.

  There at the center of the circle lay a nymph in a red dress.

  By the gods.

  She took his breath away. Literally, she took his breath away.

  He stood there unable to breathe, and gazed down at the woman he loved more than life itself. Her golden hair fanned out in long, silken waves around her body. Her chest rose and fell in slow, even breaths. And that dress…. All Father, give me strength, he thought helplessly, as his hungry eyes caressed the length of her.

  The gown clung to her body like a second skin. It was a deep, scarlet red with a slit that exposed her leg to the thigh. A long expanse of creamy, taut flesh greeted him as she shifted in her dream. Spaghetti straps that had most likely fallen long ago bared her shoulders. Her firm, perfect breasts were outlined so enticingly, Victor physically ached with the need to expose them. Touch them.

  Taste them.

  Whatever plans he’d had when he’d first started out after Victoria – see that she was safe, bring her back to the Field – drifted away as he slowly and steadily paced into the clearing.

  His boots softly crunched nature’s gravel beneath him.

  Victoria stirred, but didn’t waken.

  When he reached her side, he lowered himself to one knee, his eyes memorizing the lines of her face. He leaned over, inhaling the scent of her soap and shampoo. Then he
straightened, took one last long look at her to forever burn the image on his brain, and said, “Victoria.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Victoria’s eyelids fluttered open. Everything was a blur of light and shadow, moving in orange, red, and black streaks. She blinked hard.

  A black boot came into focus.

  Confusion was her first reaction. Where am I? What is this?

  Then fear. After all she’d been through, it was hardwired into her brain. She started, sitting up with blurring speed while fire gathered at once in her palms.

  She found herself staring into a pair of emerald eyes.

  And then her memories came flooding back to her. The Game. Victor winning. The dinner date, the party, the dress. The balcony. The flight.

  “Victor.”

  Victor watched her steadily for a long, quiet moment. His expression was unreadable.

  Victoria’s heart raced. She wondered if he could hear it, because she certainly could. It drummed in her ears like the ceremonial music of some impending sacrifice.

  “Love,” he finally said. His pupils were enormous. He looked dangerous – hungry. He looked down at her bare shoulders and seemed to snap out of something. At once, he was taking off his black leather jacket and draping it over her slim form.

  She wasn’t cold any longer. The fires had chased away every last bit of chill. But the jacket smelled like him – leather and soap and ice – and that scent wrapped around her like magic, very nearly drawing a sign from her lips.

  “Slip your arms in, Victoria,” he told her.

  She opened her eyes – only then realizing that she’d closed them to begin with. He was smiling at her now. But it wasn’t a safe smile, by any means.

  Victoria straightened. Warmth in her belly turned to heat. Then fire. Need became determination.

  And something in the night gave her strength.

  “I’m not cold any longer,” she told him. She shrugged the jacket off, once more baring her shoulders to him. She raised her chin. And then, in a show of true champion bravery, she shifted her legs, making certain that the slit in her dress opened fully to reveal the long expanse of her bending leg.