Seduction (Curse of the Gods #3)

An exaggerated clearing of a throat distracted us all, and I jerked myself back. I hadn’t even realised how close I’d been to Siret, practically pressing myself to his body. Peering around him, I couldn’t see anything because the rest of the Abcurses were already surrounding the throat-clearer.

My boots were surprisingly silent as I padded across the platform, wiggling my way between Yael and Aros. A Jeffrey stood in the centre: female, looking very wide-eyed as we all stared at her. There was a blankness in her wide eyes and she cleared her throat again, the mechanical sound grating across my nerves. Now that I knew how the Jeffreys got here, I couldn’t stop thinking about the guardians.

“I’m here with an official summons from the Great and Humble Creator,” the server started.

Coen waved his hand, and let out a low grumble. “We know why you’re here, Greg, so can you just get to the point?”

“Greg is Staviti’s personal server,” Yael murmured close to my ear.

My spine tightened and I let out an exasperated huff of air. I had a few things to say to the Great and Humble Creator, and it was very difficult not to let the venomous things spew from my mouth. No doubt Greg would take everything I said straight back to him.

She cleared her throat again and started speaking in her mechanical way, as though she was a recorded message repeating to us. “The six of you will be required to attend a special games event in the Sacred Sand Arena in Blesswood, tomorrow night. You will face a chosen group of challengers. You will not be permitted the use of your powers during this event.” Her large eyes turned to look directly at me. “Except for you, Willa Knight: you will still remain armed with whatever vestige of sol-power you possess.”

She turned then, as though that was the whole message, and she didn’t really need a response.

“Stop.” The command in Aros’s tone was enough to have all of us pausing.

Greg turned back to face him, waiting expectantly.

“Our punishment did not include Willa,” he said. “She won’t be fighting in the arena.”

The server swayed on her feet, before a low gasp rocked from her mouth. “Staviti gave the order.” She didn’t look happy at the evidence of another god disobeying Staviti.

Siret crossed his arms and leaned back against a nearby pillar. “He has no control over Willa. She’s not a god.”

Greg cleared her throat again, and nodded briefly—though the movement was more of a bow. “Staviti would like it known that if he is disobeyed on this order, he will ensure that no sols ascend to godhood ever again.”

A harsh curse burst from Rome, followed by multiple curses from the other Abcurses—distracting me from my own horror. I had been thinking about the fact that if no more sols became gods, then I would eventually be ripped away from them when one of my accidents finally hit the mark. But there was something more here. Something bigger than just me.

“What does this mean?” I asked Coen, who was closest.

His jaw was rigid as he tilted his hard stare in my direction. “Staviti can’t just stop sols from becoming gods. That process isn’t something in his control, despite what he wants everyone to think. It is a magic beyond our knowledge—we only influence and strengthen those who carry enough of the magic required to evolve.”

Siret added, “It means he plans on locking up the sols, weakening them, draining their gifts, so that none will ever take the place of the current gods.”

“He’ll eventually kill all the sols,” Rome finished.

“I’ll do it!” I blurted out, turning to Greg, who had been quietly waiting. “I’ll fight in the arena; you can tell Staviti.”

Greg nodded, and then with a pop, she disappeared.

My chest was rattling as panic filled me. How could Staviti consider killing off an entire race of people, just because a few gods and a dweller-sol hybrid refused to participate in an arena battle? The sols might have been arrogant, shiny assholes, but they didn’t deserve to just be wiped out on the whim of a single god.

I was pulled from my panicked thoughts as the five Abcurses formed a huddle. “Whose turn is it tonight?” Siret asked, his eyes flicking between his brothers.

Turn? What the hell was he talking about?

“It’s mine,” Yael declared, not an ounce of hesitation in his voice. “But I think it’s a bad idea for any of us to be alone with her.”

Right, bed arrangements. Well, that was as good a distraction as any.

The sun was very dim in the sky, so I supposed it made sense that they would start trying to figure out where to sleep. I still couldn’t stop the snort from escaping, though. Yael would never usually admit to a weakness like that, which meant that he was worried. But seriously, did he really think that two Abcurses in my bed tonight would keep things from escalating? Not freaking likely.

After they finished quietly discussing who my second babysitter for the night would be, Yael and Rome broke away from the pack and led me into one of the marble rooms. The doorway had been hidden behind rose bushes, and the scent of sweet honeysuckle drifted in as we descended the stairs into the main room. There were no windows, since the residences had been set down into the platform, but it didn’t feel small or claustrophobic. The space was spread out and open, a roaring fireplace the only light, it’s warmth pleasant as it brushed across my face. The boys stopped on either side of a mammoth bed that was dressed in white linens, with lots of fluffy pillows at the head.

“Would you like to clean up?” Yael asked me, his eyes looking darker than usual in the muted lighting.

I found myself unable to speak. There was an intimacy and tension ricocheting between the three of us, and it had something tightening low in my gut. I knew they were waiting for an answer, so I quickly nodded my head. Not speaking at all seemed like the safest option.

Rome was the one to stride to a darkened wall and open a door I hadn’t even seen there. “The bathing room is in here; I’ll help you with the controls.”

Swallowing hard, my feet were moving before my brain even registered what he’d said. Yael followed close behind me, for once his overly-brash arrogance tucked completely away. Stepping into a large and brightly lit room, I noticed that there were small illumination domes on the walls, and I watched Rome stop beside a huge, rounded shape on the floor as my eyes adjusted to the brightness. My brow furrowed as I crossed to him and stared down into it.

“What is this?” I asked.

He smiled, an actual real smile, and it was so shocking that I stumbled forward and almost fell head-first into the big bowl.

“This is a bather, we can fill it with water and you can relax in there.”

I gave the bather another suspicious stare. “Where does the water come from?”

Rome lifted his head and stared at the ceiling: I followed his gaze but couldn’t see what he was looking at. Then water started to fall, like rain, sprinkling the bottom of the bather. Glancing back at Rome, I noticed his hand against a panel on the wall.