Endless Knight (The Arcana Chronicles #2)(6)

“Of course she had,” I said in a low voice. “You heard her. First we take out Death, then all bets are off.”

Gazing around wildly, Finn opened his mouth and closed it. Open, closed. “You guys are humming my balls, right?”

Everyone frowned at him.

“Gargling my marbles? Screwing with me?” His eyes looked frantic. “Tell me, Selena!”

She didn’t reply. Just stared straight ahead.

“Tell me or I swear I’ll yell.”

Jackson raised his brows, giving the boy a dafuq? look. With a subtle movement, he aimed his bow, ready to shut the Magician up in case of emergency—ever the survivor, prepared to do whatever it took.

At length, Selena said, “One player gets to live. That’s the rule. I was raised to play this game, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy any of it.”

Finn looked like something had broken in him, any yell quashed.

Jackson lowered his bow, a disturbed expression crossing his face. He and Selena might never have been involved, but I was sure he’d considered her a friend.

Not a cold-blooded murderer. This game was going to turn us all into murderers.

If we let it.

Jackson glanced at my bare legs, at the skin mending itself, then slipped his flask from his pocket for a generous slug. Freaked out much, Cajun? Not that he ever needed an excuse to drink.

Finn hopped down from the counter to sit by himself. “I can’t believe I gave you food and shelter,” he told Selena. “I even gave you my last Snickers bar! Might’ve been the last one on earth.”

Her face was blank.

“So why have you held off?” he asked her. “From ganking us?”

Selena looked at me rather than him. “Though it galls me to say this, I need you.”

I made a scoffing sound. “I’m supposed to trust the Bringer of Doubt not to slit my throat if I lower my guard for a second?” Apparently I could no longer depend on Jackson to watch over me as I slept.

Finn turned to me. “Now that you’ve remembered the game, are you gonna kill us?”

“No.”

Selena whipped her head around. “Now who’s the liar?”

“I don’t play games where I don’t make the rules,” I said, sounding like a Frau Badass, like my fierce mother had been. Finally. And more, I believed what I was saying. “I’ll take out Death. Then I’ll stop.”

I’d get a handle on that “heat in battle” aspect. Yes, bottling up my powers had caused me problems, but I had an ace up my sleeve. “My grandmother, the Tarasova, will help me. All I have to do is reach her in North Carolina.” Assuming she was still alive. Which I did. I felt like she was.

Selena was eyeing me with new interest. “You can’t just stop.”

“Watch me.” Maybe I didn’t have to reject my abilities. I could use them outside of the game to help people, like those girls in the dungeon. If I’d been empowered to play this messed-up game, I could repurpose myself, fight freaking crime if I had to. “I want no part in this game. I’d rather die than hurt Matthew.” He patted my marked hand again.

“How are you going to get past the other cards?” Selena asked. “I already sensed some not too far away. With the Alchemist’s death, they’ll come running for us. They could be waiting outside this basement in the morning, ready to give us a wake-up kiss.”

“Then I’ll have to convince them not to play.” Was my voice growing fainter? “I’ll start a different kind of alliance.”

“We go up against the wrong cards and you’ll never get a word out.”

Despite the threat of more Arcana, I leaned against Matthew as another wave of dizziness hit. “I’ll take my chances,” I said, barely keeping my eyes open.

Finn considered all this, then asked me, “What’s so important about this Death dude? Why’s he the only one you’ll fight?”

“Because he’s a psychopath, who won’t stop until I’m dead.”

Poor Matthew’s stomach was growling. Even as exhaustion dragged me down, I asked, “Anybody got any food for Matthew?”

Finn raised his brows at Jackson. “Somebody didn’t give us a lot of time to provision for the gotta-save-Evie trip.” To me, he said, “We abandoned my copious stores. Glad we got here in time to save you, by the way.”

I turned to Jackson.

He held up one empty hand and his crossbow. In a curt tone, he said, “I got nothing for coo-y?n.” Cajun for fool. “My bag’s in the truck.”

What had he been thinking to leave his bug-out bag? He considered separation from one’s survival gear to be a cardinal sin, like suicide, had dog-cussed me whenever I’d stepped even five feet from mine. “You doan have this bag?” he’d said, shoving it into my arms. “Then you’re done. You hear me? DONE.”

I’d managed to hold on to mine until I’d been kidnapped by that militia group. Jackson had saved me from those men, proving himself a hero.

Had that only been three days ago?

Now he was right here with me. And he’d never been with Selena. I wanted his strong arms around me. I wanted him murmuring Cajun French to me in that rumbling voice of his, the words I alone understood. But he felt a thousand miles distant.