Page 49 of Gods' Battleground

I gawked at the outfit. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“I don’t kid,” the guard said, his face as humorless as a rock slide.

“AndIdon’t wear canary-yellow,” I shot back, tossing the ridiculous slave girl costume at him. “It’s totally not my color.”

“You can wear this,” he said, shaking the outfit, “or nothing at all.”

I made a disgruntled, impatient noise. “Fine.” I snatched the costume out of his hands. “But don’t blame me if I clash with all the party decorations.” I held the bikini top up to my chest, grimacing.

Tessa snorted.

But she wasn’t laughing for long. She, Gin, and Calli all got stupid bikini harem costumes of their own. Tessa’s was neon-pink. Gin’s was lime-green. And Calli’s was electric-blue. Zane got a costume too. His didn’t have a top, though, just pants. Which meant he got to go around topless, showing off his bare man chest.

“It’s a good thing you’ve been working out,” I teased him as he flexed his abs.

“Yeah, too bad Aerilyn isn’t here. She’d really appreciate the show,” Tessa added with a wink.

“She’d be theonlyone having fun here.” Zane frowned at his tangerine-orange pants.

The Night Prince must have been colorblind. Even standing apart, we looked like reject shades from a failed cosmetics line. Standing together, we were pure psychedelic rainbow vomit.

A few minutes later, just as we’d finished changing, the guards came to take Bella away. And a few minutes after that, the princes started arriving at the castle. They all appeared to be as rich, cruel, and frivolous as the Night Prince. They were dressed in furs, silks, and velvet, all dyed in bright, blinding colors. A few of them even wore feathers. Most of them had piled on so much jewelry that they jingled when they walked. And all of them had brought along an entourage of personal guards and slaves.

“Get to work, Canary.” One of the guards shoved a silver serving platter into my hands. “And don’t try anything funny. I’ll be watching you.”

He didn’t have any words of warning for the rest of my family. I guess he wasn’t worried about them misbehaving. Geez, you throw a few apples at a vampire king and suddenly everyone thinks you’re a troublemaker. Ok, to be fair, I’d also thrown a couple of jars of lard at him too. And a burning dishrag. And a few toolboxes.

Wow, I really liked to throw junk at people. No wonder Nero was always teasing me about it.

“I know you,” one of the princes said as I passed him. His outfit was eggplant-purple—and only slightly less ridiculous than mine.

“Hors d’oeuvre?” I smiled over the top of the platter.

He ignored the overdressed finger foods. “You fought my champion.” His eyes narrowed to slits. “You threw apples at his head. Why?”

“Because they were there?”

He scowled at me, unamused. “You humiliated my champion. You humiliated me.”

“That was not my intention.”

“Then what was your intention?” He grabbed my arm roughly, and I only barely managed not to drop the food platter. “What is the Night Prince plotting?”

“I wouldn’t know,” I replied. “He doesn’t tell me anything.”

He held my gaze for a few more seconds. “Of course he doesn’t, slave. You aren’t even worth talking to.” Then he shoved me away.

When the prince turned and walked away, I resisted the urge to knock him upside the head with the platter.

I took a deep breath. I needed to focus on the mission right now. The mission was what mattered, not sociopaths pretending to be royalty to cover up a major inferiority complex and years of unresolved early childhood trauma.

I hate bullies,I shared with the others, hosting yet another telepathic family meeting in my head.

Leda, are you ok?Calli asked me.He grabbed you pretty hard.

I’m fine,I told her.The Bozo Prince is not even strong enough to hurt me.

Guys, look!Gin cut in.The match is starting.

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