My eyes flashed open.
Brian’s went wide. “Whoa! This bitch is waking up. Get me that drink!”
More drugs? I opened and closed my fists. The hell that would be happening!
One of them sprang across the room to retrieve a cup, hurrying back with it. Brian shifted out of the way to give the other guy access. When he lifted my head and forced the rim against my lips, I thrashed my head away.
The Moon was regaining her strength. I would be the color of their nightmares.
My hands shot against his chest, stiff-arming him off the bed.
As I sat up, my skin began to turn red for the first time. They scrambled back, horrified. The guy who’d been filming dropped his phone.
With each second I burned red, I shook off more of the drug’s effects. When my body was under my control again, I stood and smiled at Brian. “I’m going to pound you so hard you’ll feel it—for the rest of your life.”
One guy tried to run for the door. I vaulted in front of it. “Ah-ah. No one’s going to miss out on their turn with me. You’ll have to be carried from this bedroom, just like you carried me in.”
Red tinged my skin—and my vision. I struck Brian’s face first, putting him to the floor with one blow. Another guy swung a fist, but I caught it, squeezing as I kicked the cameraman.
Without thought, I shifted and pivoted, punched and stomped, my combat training taking over.
These men had targeted me, working together. Now I targeted them, my limbs working together. The moves were effortless, the destruction rewarding. Brian vomited each time I booted his stomach, like I was pushing a Puke Now button. Fun!
I’d been no fan of the Arcana game, but if it brought more of this . . .
Cracking bones. Screams. Pleas for me to stop.
Pleas? “You don’t get to beg.” Kick. “I didn’t get to say a word.” Punch.
Too soon they all lay on the floor, broken men. I wasn’t even out of breath.
I punted each one in the ballbag so hard I doubted they’d ever be raping anyone again. I crushed that asshole’s phone, then spat on Brian’s bloody face.
As I exited, I realized I’d be underneath that rapist right now if the game hadn’t given me abilities—and if my aunts hadn’t trained me to use them.
I’d beaten the piss out of those players; now it was Candy’s turn. I listened for her voice, stalking her through the huge party. She had no idea the Huntress was on her trail.
I found her downstairs smoking with a group of girls. Judging by the fuck knots in her hair, she’d already been with that guy from earlier. I yanked her around to face me.
Her jaw dropped. “What are you . . . h-how? You were comatose.”
“And you left me with those animals? You knew what they planned to do to me! You abandoned me.”
Recovering from her surprise, she faked a laugh. “You looked like you were about to have a great time with all of them. Slut.”
I tilted my head. “How great of a time will you have without your teeth?”
She frowned at me. “What—”
Wham! I punched her in the mouth, knocking her front teeth out. She shrieked, spraying blood.
I turned toward the door, heading back to my dorm. If this was what friendship and dating offered, I hadn’t missed anything. Maybe the game was my sole purpose, the one thing that could ease my longing.
I was going to pack up tonight and drive straight through to my aunts’. When I got there, I’d tell them, “I’m going to win the whole fucking game.”
The Sun (XIX)
Solomón Heliodoro, Hail the Glorious Illuminator
“Next to me, everything is shadow.”
A.k.a.: El Sol
Powers: Solar embodiment (can emit sunlight from his skin and eyes). Solar manipulation (can burn enemies or strike them with madness and attack with solar winds and flares). Command inducement and sense scrying (can control Bagmen and borrow their senses).
Special Skills: Enhanced charisma, showmanship.
Weapons: Bagmen.
Tableau: A child wrapped in a red pennant is surrounded by sunflowers. Above, the sun blazes down with a menacing face.
Icon: Yellow sun.
Unique Arcana Characteristics: Golden beams radiate from his eyes, and his bronzed skin glows.
Before Flash: Purdue history grad student and part-time rave promoter from Spain.
West Lafayette, Indiana
Day 0
“Is it just me, or is our sex life improving by the minute?” I asked my two partners as I worked to catch my breath.
Beatrice curled up against my side, her panting exhalations cooling my damp skin. “Not just you.”
Joe was sprawled like a starfish, his legs draped over ours. He grunted, “Not just you.”
Bea traced a heart over my chest, giving me goose bumps. “If this continues, where will we end up?”
“Let’s find out, querida.” And we would—because I would never let either of them go. Bea and I had been great together—I’d fallen for her at first sight—but Joe had been the third piece of our puzzle.
Today was the two-year anniversary of our trio, and I expected a hundred more.
She laughed and sat up, stretching her arms over her head—to my delight. I’d been with her since before Joe, three years or so, but even her simplest movements could still stir me.
“I see that look in your eyes.” She raised her brows. “But we have work.”
Joe rose up on his elbows. “The Spaniard wants another round? Jesus, he’ll kill us before it’s all over.”
Brian’s went wide. “Whoa! This bitch is waking up. Get me that drink!”
More drugs? I opened and closed my fists. The hell that would be happening!
One of them sprang across the room to retrieve a cup, hurrying back with it. Brian shifted out of the way to give the other guy access. When he lifted my head and forced the rim against my lips, I thrashed my head away.
The Moon was regaining her strength. I would be the color of their nightmares.
My hands shot against his chest, stiff-arming him off the bed.
As I sat up, my skin began to turn red for the first time. They scrambled back, horrified. The guy who’d been filming dropped his phone.
With each second I burned red, I shook off more of the drug’s effects. When my body was under my control again, I stood and smiled at Brian. “I’m going to pound you so hard you’ll feel it—for the rest of your life.”
One guy tried to run for the door. I vaulted in front of it. “Ah-ah. No one’s going to miss out on their turn with me. You’ll have to be carried from this bedroom, just like you carried me in.”
Red tinged my skin—and my vision. I struck Brian’s face first, putting him to the floor with one blow. Another guy swung a fist, but I caught it, squeezing as I kicked the cameraman.
Without thought, I shifted and pivoted, punched and stomped, my combat training taking over.
These men had targeted me, working together. Now I targeted them, my limbs working together. The moves were effortless, the destruction rewarding. Brian vomited each time I booted his stomach, like I was pushing a Puke Now button. Fun!
I’d been no fan of the Arcana game, but if it brought more of this . . .
Cracking bones. Screams. Pleas for me to stop.
Pleas? “You don’t get to beg.” Kick. “I didn’t get to say a word.” Punch.
Too soon they all lay on the floor, broken men. I wasn’t even out of breath.
I punted each one in the ballbag so hard I doubted they’d ever be raping anyone again. I crushed that asshole’s phone, then spat on Brian’s bloody face.
As I exited, I realized I’d be underneath that rapist right now if the game hadn’t given me abilities—and if my aunts hadn’t trained me to use them.
I’d beaten the piss out of those players; now it was Candy’s turn. I listened for her voice, stalking her through the huge party. She had no idea the Huntress was on her trail.
I found her downstairs smoking with a group of girls. Judging by the fuck knots in her hair, she’d already been with that guy from earlier. I yanked her around to face me.
Her jaw dropped. “What are you . . . h-how? You were comatose.”
“And you left me with those animals? You knew what they planned to do to me! You abandoned me.”
Recovering from her surprise, she faked a laugh. “You looked like you were about to have a great time with all of them. Slut.”
I tilted my head. “How great of a time will you have without your teeth?”
She frowned at me. “What—”
Wham! I punched her in the mouth, knocking her front teeth out. She shrieked, spraying blood.
I turned toward the door, heading back to my dorm. If this was what friendship and dating offered, I hadn’t missed anything. Maybe the game was my sole purpose, the one thing that could ease my longing.
I was going to pack up tonight and drive straight through to my aunts’. When I got there, I’d tell them, “I’m going to win the whole fucking game.”
The Sun (XIX)
Solomón Heliodoro, Hail the Glorious Illuminator
“Next to me, everything is shadow.”
A.k.a.: El Sol
Powers: Solar embodiment (can emit sunlight from his skin and eyes). Solar manipulation (can burn enemies or strike them with madness and attack with solar winds and flares). Command inducement and sense scrying (can control Bagmen and borrow their senses).
Special Skills: Enhanced charisma, showmanship.
Weapons: Bagmen.
Tableau: A child wrapped in a red pennant is surrounded by sunflowers. Above, the sun blazes down with a menacing face.
Icon: Yellow sun.
Unique Arcana Characteristics: Golden beams radiate from his eyes, and his bronzed skin glows.
Before Flash: Purdue history grad student and part-time rave promoter from Spain.
West Lafayette, Indiana
Day 0
“Is it just me, or is our sex life improving by the minute?” I asked my two partners as I worked to catch my breath.
Beatrice curled up against my side, her panting exhalations cooling my damp skin. “Not just you.”
Joe was sprawled like a starfish, his legs draped over ours. He grunted, “Not just you.”
Bea traced a heart over my chest, giving me goose bumps. “If this continues, where will we end up?”
“Let’s find out, querida.” And we would—because I would never let either of them go. Bea and I had been great together—I’d fallen for her at first sight—but Joe had been the third piece of our puzzle.
Today was the two-year anniversary of our trio, and I expected a hundred more.
She laughed and sat up, stretching her arms over her head—to my delight. I’d been with her since before Joe, three years or so, but even her simplest movements could still stir me.
“I see that look in your eyes.” She raised her brows. “But we have work.”
Joe rose up on his elbows. “The Spaniard wants another round? Jesus, he’ll kill us before it’s all over.”
