“That’s it? You don’t even care about the whole world-ending thing?”
“I care about the spirits, but my influence at the moment is limited to here in hell, and seeing as the spirits aren’t here, there isn’t much I can do. You, however, are potentially far more valuable. What you did shouldn’t have been possible, and things that aren’t possible are my favorite.” That came across as far more of a threat then a compliment. As it turned out, the devil thinking I was valuable just didn’t please me.
It was a time when I missed flying under the radar in life…
Things were so much easier when I didn’t have everyone looking my way.
“I hate to be the one to tell you, but if you think I’m going to be useful in any way, you’ve wasted your time. I am, at best, a fucked-up medium.” Good thing I wasn’t wearing the bracelet, because I was pretty sure I’d get one hell of a shock for that statement.
The more time passed, the more I learned, the more I accepted I wasn’t human, at least not in the strict sense. No matter how badly I wanted to be, no matter how much I wanted to be just like everyone else, I guess turning into some sort of ghost creature was a good way to shock me out of my belief.
Lucifer exhaled sharply, a sound that said I was being foolish. He gestured to the side of me without addressing my statement. “It is nearly time for the competition to begin. We should take our seats.”
“Wonderful. It’s been almost a whole day since I had to sit on a skull. I miss that incredibly gross feeling.”
Lucifer sighed, then pulled a cloth from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and handed it to me, leaving the one in his outer pocket free from me stealing it. “Mortals are tiresome. I remember now why I don’t allow them in the palace.”
“Well, maybe remember it next time you decide to summon one, because this wasn’t my idea of a great time, either.”
He crossed his arms as I spread the cloth over the seat and lowered myself into it, grimacing at just how uncomfortable bone furniture was. “Your mouth will be the death of you,” he said before taking his own seat.
He was probably right.
Watching both teams come out made me question not giving into the blue team’s demands.
The blue team had behemoths of men on it along with one woman who was tall and had horns that went up from her temples then twisted back to meet behind her head. They looked like the sort of people who would kill someone for nothing more than being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
It was a far cry from my team.
Sure, I knew what my boys could do—I’d seen it. However, where the blue team wore their viciousness on their sleeves, my boys didn’t look nearly as intimidating.
A fear crept into me.
What if I’d picked wrong? What if one of them did get killed? What if it was all my fault?
I met Grant’s gaze, and all those worries must have shown on my face because he gave me a smirk and winked.
The arrogant bastard. Still, it helped. He knew what he was capable of, what the others were. Grant was not the self-sacrificing type, especially not without milking the hell out of it. There was no way he’d just allow himself to be killed off without even an ill-timed joke.
It let me draw in a breath, to remind myself that they’d survived one round and a few attempts over the night.
An announcer called both teams, this time calling out each member individually. When the teams had been introduced the last time, the crowd had gone crazy for the blue team. The crowd had been almost deafening with fanboy and fangirls.
This time, however, things had changed. When the woman gestured toward the black team, those standing around went wild.
She went through each of them, as she had the other team, and there was no doubt the crowd had taken to my boys.
Hunter threw his arms up and spun as if the cheering of fans were the best thing he’d ever experienced. Of course, before I could get too jealous, he turned toward me, winked, then blew a kiss.
Grant lifted one hand, all cockiness and confidence.
Kase nodded, hands folded at the small of his back, reminding me a bit too much of Lucifer’s demeanor.
Troy, however, was always the odd man out. Discomfort showed in his stance. Where Hunter and Grant lived for the affection, and Kase seemed comfortable with it even if he didn’t puff his chest, Troy looked as if he’d rather fight any of the other team if it meant he didn’t have to endure being the center of attention.
Then again, he wasn’t a fan of his other form, and a fight like this required it. No wonder he didn’t relish the activity—he had to show an entire group of people a part of himself he loathed.
“I wonder what they want,” Lucifer said when the teams filed out and the shimmering image appeared before us, this time of a slightly different but similar arena.
“What?”
“Your team. I know they came for you, but I wonder what they would request as their favor. The favor belongs to the team member who makes the killing blow on the final creature they face. My bet would be on Hunter, given he has done this before, but Kase killed the creature in the first round. What will they ask for?”
“How would I know?”
“Because I suspect nothing they do here is for themselves. Being here benefits them little.”
“If we can’t deal with the spirit mess, I think that involves everyone.”
“Not really,” he said.
“Pretty sure the whole living and afterlife bleeding into each other is a big scope problem.”
“They’re more adapted to such a world than mortals. In fact, they may prefer it.”
I shook my head. “No
