Page 13 of A Kiss From Death
“Personal guard…” I repeat, trying to make sense of them. If heisEmpress Seraphine’s right hand, that means… No, it can’t be.
Shit.
My eyes turn to saucers as I gaze up with understanding, and I wish I could wipe away the smug smile spreading across his face at my realization.
“You’re the Cardinal,” I state rather than question. Everything suddenly makes so much sense—his bluntness, his hard exterior, his all together ‘I don’t give a damn’ attitude towards everything and anyone.
This man sports a god complex, but for good reason. Tales of the ruthless Cardinal spread all the way to Fallout, the great warrior who could shatter a man’s mind with a single look. His full depth of powers are unknown, but it is rumored he can control anything to do with death. It makes sense he’s tasked as the Empress’ personal protector.
“You’ve heard of me?” he asks smugly.
“I’m not gonna answer that and feed into your overflowing ego,” I say plainly. Now I know why he laughed when I called him Death Reaper. “So, when do I get my original guard back? And are we going to stand here all day, or do I finally get to see what all the fuss is about with this giant floating rock they call Lunaria?” I counter.
His face turns serious at my mention of returning to my previous guard. “You will have me until I find someone capable of taking my spot.” There is no arguing with his tone.
Every time I feel like I’m starting to understand this man, he makes my head spin. I don’t want to piss him off after learning who he is, so I keep my mouth shut for now.
One of the other Vanquishers clears his throat in an attempt to gain everyone’s attention. “The Empress has a message for you all,” he states, masking his face in neutrality.
He raises his palms face up in front of his chest, facing the sky. Closing his eyes, he concentrates while flexing his hands in a claw-like shape. What forms in front of my eyes is one of the most breathtaking things I’ve ever seen: a baby blue orb of light exploding from his palms, casting a globe floating in the air. Staring straight at us, in perfect detail, is our Empress.
Illuminist.
Illuminists can replicate anything they’ve seen by creating light illusions out of thin air. They can create stagnant or moving shapes from their imagination or replay events that have unfolded in front of them, including sounds. This illuminist must have listened to the Empress earlier and is now relaying it for us in exact detail.
“It is with great honor that you have been chosen to represent your sector in this year’s Reaper Crucible. You should all know the great sacrifice you are making with your life by entering yourself in this fight to the death. But with great risk comes great reward. In my opinion, there is no greater reward than the possession of magic.”
The Empress carries an unmatched elegance. She is poised in every meaning of the word, commanding attention like a true deity. She is the epitome of regality, and her words pack a mighty punch.
“This game will not only test your strength, but your wits. Every moment of your life leading up to this will either make or break your gameplay. Keep your guard up, alliances strong, and play with your head, not your heart. Make no mistake—every person here is not friend, but foe. The greatest advice I shall give you is this: keep your cards close to your chest, but your enemies even closer.”
And just like that, the illusion is gone as fast as it appeared.
The Vanquisher drops his hands back by his sides. “You will travel in pairs with one Migrant to assist your travel to Lunaria. There are only a couple Migrants here as guards, so it will take them a few trips to get you all there. You may now pair up.” He joins the other Vanquisher guards as my competitors pair off anxiously.
I make to walk away, but Hade abruptly grabs my wrist, halting my advance.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he says with brute force.
I stare up at the wall of a man, both in confusion and caution. Does he expect me to walk with him? Maybe he wasn’t done drilling me with an unnecessary amount of personal questions? Or maybe, he just wants to keep fucking with me? Either way, I do not want to stay and find out.
Putting up my armor, I mask my face in pure, unyielding steel and pray to the Empress it’s believable. “I was going to find a competitor to pair off with—then this pain in the ass of a man stopped me.”
I narrow my eyes in an attempt to look fierce, even though my pulse is raging and ready to burst. Hopefully, he can’t feel its growing ascent under his deathly grip on my wrist.
“I can take you,” he says matter of fact, which is the last thing in Fallout I want to do right now. I’d rather not stay and learn whatever strange magic this brute possesses to transport us to Lunaria.
No fucking thank you.
“I think I’ll take my chances over there…with someone else.” I hike a thumb over my shoulder, and my voice raises in weariness at his overbearing presence.
“I actually was just about to pair off with…” I hesitate, trying to think of the name of one of my competitors. Before I get a chance to finish my sentence, a seductive male voice brushes past my ear.
“Me,” the male purrs, finishing my sentence for me, and I’ve never been more grateful.
I slowly turn my head, locking eyes with an equally intense pair already familiar to me. I’m taken back to the standoff I had with this man during Command Sector’s ceremony.
Aeron Gavisblinds me with his perfectly white teeth and his signature wolfish grin. Most women would faint at the sight, but I see past his charm for what it truly is: a weapon.
