Page 95 of The Kiss Of Death
“Rules are simple,” Kay explained, leaning toward me. “Each opponent plays turn by turn on the chessboard. The first to eat a pawn from the other wins, the loser drinks, and so on. Depending on the value of the pawns, the loser can drink from one to nine glasses, so watch out for your queen. But if you lose the game, you need to drink it all.”
“But I don’t drink, and I don’t play chess well.”
“You’ll do just fine. Your opponent is an easy target.” He laughed and gestured for me to stand in front of the board. “Miguel, Dalia will finish the game since the one before forfeited. We usually play with Levi’s chess app, but since this party is not exclusive to Tacticians, we did it the old-fashioned way.”
“There’s an app?” Miguel, the Tactician contestant, whom I recognized as the boy from the roof, asked, eyebrows furrowing.
Kay rolled his eyes. “Of course there’s an app. It’s only through invitation, so you have to prove yourself first to be in the club. Now, let’s play. You’re not the main event of this soiree.”
Miguel gave Kay a faint smile and held out his hand for us to shake. “Good luck.”
I made my move as white, already deep into the game against the Tactician. He flipped the hourglass, giving me only fifteen seconds to decide. Swallowing nervously, I advanced my knight, aiming to threaten his rook, but he swiftly captured my undefended bishop.
“Your pawn is worth three shots,” Miguel muttered, avoiding my gaze.
“Game is a game,” Kay chimed in like the little devil on my shoulder. “That wasn’t a bad move for a newbie. You’ll get him in the next round.”
“But I don’t want to drink alcohol,” I reiterated.
“You agreed to play. Now you can’t break the rules,” Kay teased, a sinking feeling telling me I had fallen into his trap.
The first-year Tactician handed me a drink. “I’m sorry.”
I hesitated, the weight of the shot glass heavy in my hand, uncertainty coursing through me. My throat tightened as I lifted the glass closer to my lips. But before I could drink it, another hand snatched the glass from my grasp and downed it in one motion.
“She told you she doesn’t drink.”
Levi’s gaze bore into me, his eyes narrowing with an intensity that sent a chill down my spine. Their depths seemingly bottomless as they swallowed me whole. He was pissed at me, a storm brewing behind his gaze. A knot tightened in my stomach. I watched him down not just one but all three shots. His jaw clenched. Levi, who never drank, who saw alcohol as a sign of weakness, had just imbibed for me.
“Butyoujust did. I won my bet against that fucker of Cillian.” Kay smiled. “Now, I have a game to win. Dalia, thank you for indulging me. You’re free to go. It was a pleasure.”
Tacticians. All the same.
“Levi, I’d like to be part of your chess—” Miguel attempted to interject.
But Levi raised a commanding hand, silencing Miguel with a stern look as he scrutinized the chessboard with a furtive glance. “You’re playing aggressively. It’s risky and unconventional to incite chaos on the board.” With a decisive move, he removed the black queen from the game. “If you win in that position against that asshole Kay, you’re in the club.”
Miguel beamed—it was almost contagious. Meanwhile, Levi’s hand closed around mine in a firm, almost bruising grip, yanking me away from the chess game. The heat radiating from his touch felt like a burning flame against my skin.
“Come on, we were just playing around—” Kay’s voice faded the farther Levi guided me away, his steps purposeful and determined.
“You shouldn’t have indulged Kay’s ego. It may seem like an innocent party to you, but it’s only a demonstration of power. We play on our house strength and make our own rules to intimidate the others,” he admonished.
“I didn’t know that even parties here had a twist.” Everything about Pantheon was an occasion to be competitive.
He halted our steps as we reached the cozy corner where he had been seated earlier, surrounded by chessboards and plush purple leather sofas. He turned to me. “Each house is hosting parties during the year. That’s ours. Pioneers would most likely host sports games and bets. Guardians are adept at debate clubs or everything that shows off their culture in a small committee. And you guys are more into team-building activities.”
“You’re not playing anymore?” a Pioneer woman interrupted from one of the boards, her question directed at Levi. “I was about to go next against you.”
Levi ignored her and settled onto the empty sofa. “Sit on my lap.”
“I’m not going to sit on—”
“Sit on my lap, Dalia,” he repeated.
I found myself complying, acutely aware of the girl’s gaze fixed on me. I wasn’t a jealous person. I wouldn’t be one.
Levi enveloped me in his arms, his breath brushing on my nape. “Good girl.”
