Page 15 of Wild Hunt
I watched as he circled the table and grabbed another cue.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means why bother putting off the inevitable?” he shrugged. “If this world wants to burn, let it. More traffic downstairs, anyway.”
I narrowed my eyes, refusing to believe what I was hearing from him. “Petulance. Petulant bullshit.”
“Call it what you like, I’m being a realist.”
“No, you’re being a brat,” I corrected. “I agreed to serve you because you despised your father as much as I despise mine. Because you wanted to change the course of your destiny.”
“So maybe you bet on the wrong horse.”
“Don’t give me that garbage,” I grunted. “What’s wrong with you? Have you really become so enamored with your little bully games that you’ve lost sight of our entire purpose in being here?”
“What if there is no purpose?” he demanded, stretching out his arms. “What if it’s all pointless and we’re just wasting the few good years we have left chasing windmills?”
“Windmills?” I scowled in confusion.
He rolled his eyes again. “Wouldn’t hurt you to attend class once in a while.”
“I’m onlyposingas a student here. Unlike you, I haven’t forgotten my true purpose.”
That hit its mark. He flashed me a dangerous look. “Are you getting at a point?”
“One that seems to be going over your head,” I shot back, eyeing the table. “Since you like games so much, how about we make a friendly wager?”
Curiosity lit up his gaze for a moment. “What did you have in mind?”
“If I win, you pull your head out of your ass and start taking this seriously—and you let up on Kore long enough for us to figure out what role she has to play in all this.”
“And when I win?” he challenged.
“If you win, I’ll back off.”
He smirked. “Not good enough.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I want you to playyourpart,” he said in a smug tone. “The preliminaries will be coming up soon.”
I scowled. So that was his plan. Roping me into his Hunt. I’d always taken a backseat in the past, having little interest in his targets, but at least the others had been men.
“Rack up, then.”
Hades just smirked, gathering the multicolored balls under a triangular rack. “You can go first,” he offered.
He never made an allowance without an ulterior motive, but I took my shot nonetheless, sinking two balls at once. My next shot was less successful.
Hades took his turn, sinking three shots in a row before he passed it off. I took aim and had a perfect angle, but something went awry at the last second. The cue felt hot beneath my fingertips, causing my hand to slip, and the balls bounced harmlessly off the edges of the table.
I growled, looking over at him in accusation. “You cheated.”
“Don’t be paranoid,” he scoffed, lining up his shot. The remainder of the balls sank into the four corners and I felt the agitation building in my chest.
“Look at that,” Hades said innocently, leaning on his cue as he surveyed the empty table. “I won.”
“You hustled me.”
