The Death Games Page 20

  Grant’s body remained near the statue, lifeless. His normal olive skin was ghostly pale, and I knelt before him with slumped shoulders. Why was I awake, but he wasn’t?

  I prodded his cheek with my finger but recoiled instantly. He was cold. He was dead. Like me.

  “He won’t wake up, yet,” a bubbly voice said behind me.

  Whirling around, I raised my arms in defense. Why, I didn’t know. It wasn’t like I could die a third time… Right?

  From the shadows stepped a small, cloaked figure, and when she removed her hood, I recognized her immediately.

  “You!”

  The little girl from the warehouse cocked her head, both her pigtails intact and tied with white ribbon. She eyed me curiously as I slowly pieced details together.

  “You work for Death?” I asked, feeling stupid even as I asked it. Of course she did. Why else would she be dressed like his entourage?

  She hummed softly to herself as she wandered around the courtyard. Pausing at the statue, she grinned and spun in lazy circles. “I suppose in a way, I do. But not how you’re thinking.”

  I blinked. She was crazy—most likely harmless—but crazy.

  Turning back to Grant, I brushed some matted hair from his face. “You said he wouldn’t wake up yet. But then why am I awake?”

  “Oh! Because I wanted to talk to you, of course. I’ve taken quite a liking to you during my Games, you know.”

  Freezing, I glanced up at the small figure as she trailed her tiny fingers along the hedges. She pouted at the looming foliage, and with a flick of her wrist, the atmosphere changed.

  Sunlight blazed above us, illuminating the maze in a warm haze. Colorful blossoms bloomed among the leaves, and berries sprouted from the hedges, their flesh ripe and glistening under the sun’s rays. The fountain gurgled merrily beside us as fish splashed inside the shallow pool. If I wasn’t in shock, I probably would’ve run away screaming.

  The little girl skipped around, her keen, aged eyes incompatible with her childlike features.

  “Who are you?” I asked, though I was pretty sure I knew. But even as the answer stared me in the face, I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

  Death smiled at me, her childlike face beaming as she picked a yellow berry from a branch. “I think you already know, Lea.”

  I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. “But I thought… that guy?”

  “Who? Cerberus? Oh, he’s just my advisor.” Her giggle fluttered like wind chimes. “I wasn’t going to actually reveal myself to everyone. Not until I knew for sure.”

  My fingers tangled in my curls, and I tugged at my scalp in confused frustration. What was going on?

  Slumping beside Grant, I covered my face with my palms. “So now I serve you for the rest of my afterlife? Like those freaky, mindless drones of yours?”

  With an arched brow, Death cocked her head. “The servants under my employ are not losers from the Games.”

  That brought me up short, and I gaped. “They’re not?” She shook her cute, tiny head. “Then what happened to them? Why are they all, like, brainwashy?”

  The childlike aura surrounding her darkened, and the breeze turned brisk and sharp as her features hardened. “I have a responsibility to the Afterlife and the souls in my charge, and I do not take it lightly, Lea Anderson. Not every soul to arrive here is of pure conscience, and justice must be appeased.

  “The minds of the servants I employ have been wiped for their safety and the safety of the innocent residing here. Only those who are judged and sentenced receive such a fate.” Her severity lifted, and she smoothed back a lock of hair as she collected herself once more. “Do not pity them, Lea. Their fate is a merciful one, and in some cases, not enough to cleanse their sins.”

  Oh. Well then, I was wrong on that front. All this time, I assumed the mindless servants were past contestants. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so bad for them anymore.

  “Okay, but what about me?” My voice cracked, and I growled in irritation at the pathetic sound. “I mean, is this it? My life is over now, just like that?”

  I knew I shouldn’t take my frustration out on Death, especially when she could still turn me into zombie chow, but I couldn’t help it. I had lost so much in such a short amount of time, and my grief was threatening to drag me under the water until I drowned.

  Death stared at me with twinkling eyes, like she had a secret. “Whoever said you had to stop living when you die?” Her all-too-intelligent gaze never left me. “Do our journeys simply come to an end because we stop breathing? Does oxygen have to flow through our veins for us to be happy?”

  My mouth opened automatically to say, “Yes,” but then I stopped and processed her words.

  Since dying, I had experienced more adventure, pain, and love than I ever had alive. Before passing away, I wasted my time, gliding through life by doing the bare minimum. But that wasn’t living, was it?

  No, living was putting all my effort into something I wanted. Living was when I allowed myself to feel everything: joy, fear, love, pain. Even when I was breathing, I hadn’t truly been living.

  “No,” I finally responded, and Death looked absolutely gleeful. “No, I suppose not.” With a sigh of acceptance, I stood. “So, what now?”

  She smiled, her pouty lips curling in mischief. “That depends on your answer.”

  I blinked. “But I thought I just answ—”

  “Oh, not that answer,” she interrupted.

  I scowled. “Okay, no offense to you, Almighty Death, but what the fuck is going on? Where is everyone? Why am I here? Why am I not currently being zombified for your next round of torture games?”

  With a curve to her lips, she clasped her hands in front of her body. “Torture Games? This is the Afterlife’s most exciting reality show. Don’t be mean.”

  Mean? She really was cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.

  “These Games are fifty shades of fucked up! You can’t just go around chopping people up and feeding them to zombies—”

  Her face pinched, and clouds darkened overheard. “We don’t force anyone to compete, Lea Anderson! It’s always voluntary, and they enter the arena knowing exactly what they risk. If you’d read the fine print, you would have known this.”

  Fucking fine print!

  “What?”

  Releasing an impatient breath, Death smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “We have procedures set in place to ensure every contestant is aware and agreeable. They must wait three days before signing up, three days to decide if they’re truly willing to risk the possibility of pain and fear.” She cringed slightly. “Granted, you slipped through the cracks.

  “Cerberus told me to pull you out and add you to the next competition should you decide to proceed, but I politely ignored his advice. I hope you can forgive my selfishness. You see, I was curious, and Cerberus said you wouldn’t last a day given your size. And, well, as you can imagine, it irked me greatly.” She waved at her small, childlike body.

  “So, we made a bet.” Her guilty smile was only partially apologetic. “I do hope you can forgive me.”

  “A bet? I was put through this, all of this…” I fumed, glaring as she flinched. “For a fucking bet?”

  “Well, for what’s it worth, ratings were higher than ever this Game.”

  I’d never wanted to punch a child in the face before, but my fingers curled. “I thought you were just insane, but you’re worse. You’re cruel and cold.”

  Genuine hurt washed over her, and her lip quivered. “You’re right. I’ve been Death so long I’ve lost sight of what it means to be one of the living. Forgive me. I shouldn’t have allowed such pain.”

  Grumbling under my breath, I studied my grimy hands. “I’m gonna need years of therapy.”

  “Well, time is one thing you have in abundance, though the therapy may have to wait. You see, this may have started out as a bet, but you far surpassed even my expectations. And, well, I’ve been searching a long time for someone like you.”

&n
bsp; She simpered, grasping my hand. “I’ve been looking for someone strong but not cruel, someone who is cunning but not deceptive. I utilized the Games to test for necessary qualities—wisdom and street smarts but also kindness and compassion. I’ve searched for many years to find a person who values the life of another as much as themselves.

  “I’ve spent many Death Games, Lea, waiting for such a person. And, if you accept the job, I think you’ll find I’m right. You are the one I’ve been searching for. Even if you don’t know it yet.”

  I swore my brain was going to explode, and I cradled my skull as I tried to process everything she’d told me. “What job?”

  “This job.” She spread her hands at the beautiful courtyard before gesturing to Grant’s lifeless body. “My job. Lea Anderson, I want you to take my place as Death.”

  It was too much. This was worse than getting shot in the head. My vision blurred, and I blacked out with a strangled choke.

  When I woke a second time, I was no longer in the labyrinth. I lay on a golden platform, my brain still discombobulated, and my ears rang with an array of voices. I groaned as warm fingers played across my forehead.

  “Lea? Lea, you awake?” My mind shrieked in agony at the accent, sure it was only a dream. But he spoke again. “Come on, green, don’t be a pussy. You’re makin’ me look bad.”

  I shot from the floor, eyes wide and lungs chugging, and Grant lost his balance crouching over me, plopping onto his ass. He wore the same clothes he had during the task, but the blood was gone. There was no bullet hole in his chest, thank God. His skin was flushed with life, and his dark eyes shimmered under the light of the sun.

  “Grant?”

  “Who else were you hopin’ for?” He chuckled, and a sob burst from my throat as I threw myself in his arms. “Whoa, careful.”

  “You were dead, you asshole!” I wept into his neck, disbelief and joy battling within my chest. “You died!”

  This time, his guffaw was rich and full. “Well, technically, we both died.”

  “Oh, shut your mouth.” I attacked his face, kissing every inch of him I could reach, and he accepted the affection amidst fits of laughter. Finding his lips, I kissed him like my Afterlife depended on it, and he parted his lips with uncharacteristic submission, allowing my tongue to plunder every corner. “Shut your beautiful fucking mouth.”

  As my words whispered over his lips, he brushed my nose with his, his large hands framing my face. He tried to tame my mass of curls to no avail, and I sobbed out a laugh as he wiped away my tears.

  “Never thought I’d see you cry for me.”

  “Don’t get used to it.”

  Our foreheads met, his evergreen scent soothing my initial shock, and I shuddered in relief.

  He was real; this was real.

  “I had the freakiest dream,” I admitted, and his lips pressed together, smothering a pitying smile. “Please tell me it was a dream.”

  “How about you stop molestin’ me in front of everyone and you can find out.”

  For the first time, I took in my surroundings, and my face flamed. Death’s entourage stood on an elevated platform, their hoods removed to reveal their faces for the first time. Of course, I only recognized two of them—Cerberus and Death. Cerberus looked to be pouting as Death beamed at me, shooting me a subtle wink.

  On the platform with Grant and I stood the contestants from the Death Games. All of them. Knobbly Knees stood beside Schmidt and Amelia. Helen, Ye-Jun, Chuka and Clifford, The Big Red Giant. Everyone. Natalia stood in front, her perplexed gaze shifting between me and Death. She was just as confused as I was.

  “How? I thought some of the other contestants were zombies. But…” My voice trailed off, and my hand gestured around at the non-zombified competitors.

  “They didn’t actually turn the others into zombies, Lea. Death only made the zombies look like the contestants.” Grant climbed to his feet and offered a hand. “Everyone who died was simply transported to a different housing facility to wait out the Games. Apparently, the consequences for losin’ were… exaggerated.”

  Grant shot a peeved look at the podium, and Cerberus’s eyes narrowed. “It makes for better television.”

  Several chuckles rose around the room, but Grant wasn’t appeased. I leaned against his firm body to calm my quaking knees as I cleared my throat. “So, uh, what now? Did Natalia win?”

  All eyes focused on the podium, and Death stepped forward. “What an intense, enjoyable Game this one turned out to be. Contestants, thank you for your participation. Souls of the Afterlife, I give you your champion, Natalia!”

  The invisible crowd roared in celebration, and Natalia’s shoulders slumped. She brushed at her eyes, hiding her tears. I clapped along, genuinely happy for her, if not a little miffed that she shot me in the head, point-blank.

  Death floated down the stairs, her tiny body barely touching the ground. “I wish you the best of luck in your life, and, if I may offer some advice: You should pick a new line of work.” Natalia dipped her head in acknowledgement, and Death smiled. “Take care of your daughter, for the next time you enter my domain, you will not get a second chance. Use this one wisely.”

  As Death’s hands glowed a ghostly white, Natalia nodded. “I will. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Pleasant journey, and remember:”—Death touched Natalia’s forehead, and they both shimmered—“Fortune always favors the brave.”

  In the blink of an eye, Natalia disappeared, and the audience went wild. It was the climax to their Game, and they celebrated.

  But I tuned out the noise as Death focused on me, and I clasped Grant’s hand as she approached. “And now, Lea, I would like to speak with you on a personal matter.”

  My first reaction was to hide behind Grant’s body, but he moved first. He shoved me in front of himself like a shield, unable to take cover given our size difference, but he sure attempted it. “She’s fuckin’ freaky,” he hissed in my ear. “You talk to her.”

  I sent him a withering glare over my shoulder. “Pussy.”

  With a grunt, he flipped me off, and I gathered my courage, facing Death. She opened her mouth to speak, but I interrupted her immediately.

  “I can’t.” I shook my head until my world spun. “I can’t—I’m not cut out for this. I can’t be Death! That’s, like, way too much responsibility. And I’m… I’m just me!”

  “Why do you think I have a council?” She giggled, her cherub face bright as she waved at the line of people behind her. “Cerberus is my right hand, and every major decision is not made solely by me, but with the help of my advisors. We won’t throw you into this blind. You will have those you trust at your side, and I shall be with you for many years before I officially retire.”

  “I don’t want this. You’ve got the wrong guy.”

  Cradling my cheeks, she gazed up at me with an adoring motherly smile. “Those who do not seek power are always the best ones to possess it. Maybe you’re not fully equipped right now, but together, we can mold you into the perfect man for the job.”

  Speechless, I licked my dry lips and chanced a glance in Grant’s direction. He shrugged as if to say, “Don’t look at me.”

  I cautiously pulled away from Death’s touch and fisted my fingers in Grant’s shirt. “Would you excuse me for a moment?” Without waiting for a reply, I turned away and tugged Grant to my height. Dropping my voice for some semblance of privacy, I whispered in his ear. “I don’t know what to do here, Boston. This is out of my league of insanity.”

  “I didn’t think anythin’ was out of your league of insa—” I punched him in the gut, and he coughed. “I mean, um, your guess is as good as mine.”

  “Wow, thanks for your words of wisdom.”

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, Grant muttered indecipherably under his breath before taking my hands in his. “Okay, I can’t answer this for you, green. This is your life… or death, whatever. But we all heard what she told you in the maze, and she made some good poin
ts. You’re a good person, capable of makin’ somethin’ good here in the Afterlife.

  “That shitty food? The god-awful decor? The lies and violence and deception? The parts of the Games that drove you insane? You could change them. You can do good things. And you’re bitchy enough not to let anyone get away with shit.”

  “Hey.” I pouted at the insult, and he rolled his eyes, pecking my mouth.

  “I say, think about it. But don’t write off the option. I think you’d make one hell of a Death.” He blushed. “Not going to lie, you’re kinda sexy when you get bossy and pissy.”

  As my blood warmed, I caressed his jaw. “Oh, baby, I’ll boss you around all day, if that’s your kink.”

  “Watch it, green,” he purred against my lips, and only the knowledge of our audience calmed my hormones enough to pull away.

  “So I should consider it?” I asked, and Grant nodded. “Okay, but on one condition: you stick around to keep me sane.”

  “I don’t think it’s possible to keep you sane.” He yelped as I pinched his side, and his eyebrow arched in reprimand as he captured my wrist and squeezed, kissing me soundly to quiet my growled insults. “But I can try my best.”

  “Well, if that’s the best I can expect.” I sighed.

  After a parting kiss to his lips, I released him and dragged my feet back to where Death waited patiently, tickled pink at Grant’s and my mushiness.

  I worried my lip and fidgeted with my shirt, both scared and somewhat excited at the possibilities my afterlife offered. “Can I think about it?”

  “Of course.” Death’s amusement trilled through the room, and I smiled as Grant’s arms wrapped around my waist from behind. “I’ll even write up a contract.”

  Grant’s chin landed on my shoulder, and I shivered as his lips traced the shell of my ear. “This time, green,” he whispered, his words layered with humor. “I suggest you read the fine print.”

  With my fingers buried in his hair, I angled my head and covered his lips with mine. “I make no promises.”