“But what about your mother?”
“I’ll tell her I found a work-study program over here. Not a lie, since I’ll be working on robbery and you’ll be teachin’ me Boyfriend 101.” In a gruff tone, he said, “I’m new to all this. Have patience with me?”
“Same here, okay?” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this happy. I laced my hands behind his neck. “I can’t believe you’re staying.”
“If this game is real, I need to be here to defend you. If it’s not, I need to be here to help you.”
My lips parted. None of my tricks had worked; but his need to protect me had brought him back.
“I’m your fella, Cally.”
Something twisted in my chest. I just . . . I just broke the number-one rule of the game.
“And you’re my lass.”
“I am,” I told him, and this time it was the truth. We’ll figure out the rest. I was like one of those people in his tableau, falling headlong from the lightning-struck tower. But unlike them, I might not give a damn where or how I landed—as long as he was beside me.
He pulled me closer and leaned in. “C’mere.” He pressed his lips to mine. When I felt the first tiny sparks of his electricity, I smiled into our kiss.
Until something bit my ankle.
I jerked back. “Ahhh!” A rat was scampering away.
It wasn’t alone. They were bubbling up from the depths all around us.
“We’re leavin’.” Joules grabbed my hand and started for the exit.
A wave of rats crested over the top of the stairwell, squeaking madly and tumbling over each other in their haste. “No good! We’re trapped down here!”
He pulled me to the bench, and we climbed atop it. “We’ll be all right,” he said, not panicked at all. He’d been much more nervous about kissing! “This’ll get sorted,” he told me with a confident nod.
Patrick Joules kept his cool.
Even when a spine-tingling roar up on the surface grew louder.
Even when wide-eyed dogs with trailing leashes dove down those steps, and bloodied zoo animals followed them.
Even when a silver baton appeared in his hand. . . .
The Devil (XV)
Ogen, Foul Desecrator
“I’ll make a feast of your bones!”
A.k.a.: El Diablo, the Bloody Foul One
Powers: Superhuman strength, animal aggression. Can morph his body, first into a colossal ogre, then into a giant. His thickened hide repels acid and poison.
Special Skills: Forging metal.
Weapons: None.
Tableau: A goat-man ogre leading tethered slaves.
Icon: Two black horns.
Unique Arcana Characteristics: Ten feet tall, a horned and hunchbacked beast with cloven feet.
Before Flash: Ohio teenager undergoing treatment for cutaneous horns and bony growths on his head.
The Star (XVII)
Stellan Tycho, Arcane Navigator
“I descend upon you like nightfall.”
A.k.a.: The North Star, Supernova
Powers: Stellar embodiment and manipulation. Enhanced senses and night sight. Can generate stellar bombs, detonating himself to paralyze or destroy enemies. Echolocation, beacon emission, astronavigation.
Special Skills: Astronomy savant.
Weapons: None.
Tableau: A naked androgynous figure, gathering water under a bright eight-pointed star.
Icon: A white star.
Unique Arcana Characteristics: When he uses his power, his body vibrates until it grows indistinct.
Before Flash: Danish college student, traveling to Colorado to study astronomy.
Københavns Lufthavn
(Copenhagen International Airport)
Day 0
“You have your books?” Mother asked me.
I nodded, depressed. I just wanted to get this farewell over with.
“Do you have your money for the trip over?” Father asked me.
I patted my jeans pocket. Another nod.
To everyone else, we looked like a regular family—two parents sending their oldest child to college, while five impatient younger siblings dreamed of their turn.
College was just a coincidence. In reality, I was going to the States—leaving behind my part-time job, my friends, and my potential girlfriend (two amazing dates)—to compete in a lethal game. Possibly.
More likely, this Arcana stuff was just my parents’ insane fixation. Their craziness was our family’s dirty little secret. Every family had one, right? Like my one friend’s father who cheated on his taxes, and another one’s mother who abused prescriptions.
At best, my parents were mentally ill and had no love for me.
At worst, they were sane and were forcing me into a contest that would most likely get me killed. And had no love for me. . . .
Astrid, the youngest of my siblings, whined, “Why does Stellan get to go to Colorado?”
Because my father “sensed” the game would be in the States this time. Could be worse. He could have “sensed” it’d be in Siberia.
I tweaked Astrid’s chin. “Because I’m better than you,” I said, joking, but my parents nodded.
Father told them, “Your brother’s going to be famous for eternity.”
Mother reached up to straighten my glasses, embarrassing me. “I’m so proud of you. All your study and hard work is about to pay off. From this moment on, your life will never be the same.” She squeezed my shoulders as she hugged me. “Remember, take Death out first.” She released me, motioning for my father and me to embrace.
He and I reluctantly complied. At my ear, he grated, “Come home with twenty-one icons, or don’t come home.”
Røvhul! Asshole! But I bit my tongue.