Page 50 of Immortal Throne

He didn’t feel the need to elaborate because the next thing he did was turn the corner and disappear from view, the sound of his footsteps fading away the only noise in the hallway.

I stood there, gaping at the empty hallway until I remembered to close my mouth.

“Come on!” Zane called out behind me. “Let’s get drunk.”

I shook my head and turned to find Chupey and Zane watching me expectantly.

“Who knows,” Zane added. “Feed me enough shots and I might let you try to embrace this demon.” He blew me a kiss.

I snorted, pushed thoughts of Ryker away, and walked back toward my room. Zane slung his arm over my shoulders and squeezed.

“So…embracing my demon. Please tell me there’s not some sort of blood sacrifice required.”

Zane snorted, releasing me so I could step forward and unlock the door. Swinging it open, I walked inside my personal paradise. Everything exactly where I left it, this place had quickly begun to feel like a home.

Home.

My mind instantly went to my other home—the apartment in Braton. It seemed like I left years ago instead of yesterday.

Luckily, with the meager balance in my checking account and my line of credit, I had enough to cover the next couple of months of rent, but if I lingered too long, I’d have nothing to return to. I had bet all my savings on the fight, and had no job prospects.

Then again, if I didn’t win the throne, I wouldn’t need to provide for myself for much longer anyway. Wasn’t that a pleasant thought?

How was Becca doing?

Did she end up coming over to visit last night after her date? Probably not. God, I hoped not. I also hoped I had a chance to smooth things over between the two of us and show her I could be a better friend.

I glanced around my current room as Zane and Chupey pushed past me and made themselves comfortable. Chupey threw himself down on the plush rug beside the bed and Zane hopped up to sit on the mattress.

“Why don’t we start with what you already know,” Zane suggested.

“Well, that’s easy. I know a fuckton of nothing.”

“Fuckton?” Zane tilted his head. “Is that a word?”

“It’s a word.”

“Doubtful.” He uncorked the bottle and looked around, presumably for some cups.

I kicked the door shut behind me, took three steps to reach him and snatched the bottle from his hands. He gaped at me as I placed the bottle to my lips and drank.

Cold liquid burned a path down my throat to warm my belly. It was like some raunchy mix between cinnamon whiskey and an herbal liqueur. It was absolutely disgusting and wonderful at the same time. I took another swig before holding it out for Zane.

He smirked and took it back.

“Don’t tell me you have a thing about germs.”

“Not at all, just wondering how to warn you about the potency of this stuff,” he said. “Or whether I want to just watch what happens.”

Chupey snorted. “Did you see her face? Of course, she knows.”

Zane shrugged and tilted the bottle back, chugging a few mouthfuls of the demon brew. “Okay, back to what you know or you don’t know.”

“Chupey said some gibberish last night, but it made little sense at the time, and I was on information overload. I don’t think my brain was ready to hear it then.”

“And now?” Zane asked. “Is your brain ready?”

“Probably not, but it’s readier than it was last night. So, you’re up. Time to spill the tea. Maybe start at the beginning,” I said, waving my hands around like that somehow represented going back in time.

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