Page 102 of Lust

“She’s completely insane!” Twila shouts. “Hades is the only person strong enough to stand up to her. She’s planning on torturing all the Inferno Games contestants at the ball. We need to get to her and stop her before the ball starts.”

I swallow thickly as I remember what Anthura is capable of. “The ball has already started.”

50

JUST AN OBSERVATION

FELIX

Anthura looks every inch the queen in her long fitted red leather number and spiked crown that would take an eye out if anyone was unfortunate to get close to her. Screw Noémi and her fucked up games. Parties are one game I know I can win. I’ve never been to a party where I’m not the center of attention and with Anthura at my side looking the way she does, those points up for grabs are going to be mine. I might not know what criteria Noémi has in mind to dish out the points, but whatever it is, they’ll be going to me. If Anthura is a queen, I’m the fucking king as we enter the ballroom. All eyes swivel our way and I’m sure I hear a collective inhalation of breath at how fucking gorgeous we are. I’m dressed in the best suit money can buy with a hat that masks half my face. A quick scan of the room is enough to see Anthura’s plan has worked. Everyone is dressed up nicely enough, but not a single person is dressed spectacularly. Not like us. Rowena isn’t here. She’s probably crying in her room with her friends. Good! I don’t need to be dealing with any shit tonight, least of all, her. In a few hours, I’ll be descending to the next Circle, and she’ll become a distant fucked up memory.

Anthura leans in and whispers in my ear. “Noémi may as well just give us the points now rather than going through this exhibition.”

As if saying her name has conjured her, I spot Noémi at the front of the room on a golden swing.

“Rowena’s not here,” I point out.

Anthura gives me a funny look. “Why is it we can’t have a conversation without her coming up every time? It’s like you’re obsessed.”

“I’m not fucking obsessed,” I bite out. “It’s just an observation.”

Fortunately, her focus shifts away from me as Noémi descends from the swing at the opposite end of the hall. When she speaks, her voice is magnified. “Welcome everybody! You all look absolutely beautiful. I ‘ave never seen such a wonderful spectacle. Eet is a beeter sweet moment for me. This ees the last time I’ll see you, for after the party, those of you weeth enough points weel go down to ze third circle. I want all of you to ween, but I also want all of you to lose so you can stay wiz me for all time.” She laughs. “‘Ere are ze scores so far.”

She waves her hand and a scoreboard magically appears behind her. Juliette and Orlin are tying for first place. The dude hasn’t even bothered to show up, so fuck knows what he did to get so high. I scan down the list for my name. We are only in the top ten because of Rowena blowing me and the fact that no scores were given for the second trial due to it being a complete failure.

“Tonight, I want you all to ‘ave a lot of fun. Everything you do is being broadcast to everyone on ze main screen in the restaurant so make eet amazing. Okay, partners, please take to ze dance floor and let’s see what you can do.”

I’m suddenly aware that the whole room has gone quiet. The quiet collective inhalation of breath that happened when Anthura and I walked in has repeated itself, but now everyone is staring at someone else.

Anthura’s expression twists into such disgust that she becomes ugly. “Fuck!”

I follow her angry stare to the two women at the food table who have both just turned around. One of them is Rowena. Her long blond curls have been pinned up on top of her head with blue ribbon threaded through and a blue green peacock feather held in place. She’s a fucking vision.

Unease along with surprise rips through me as she steps onto the dance floor as though she owns it. Her long skirt ripples as she walks beside Juliette. Even Noémi is staring at them with apparent delight.

“What the fuck are they wearing?” Anthura mutters.

Irritation prickles at me as the memory of Rowena naked, coming apart on my tongue fills my mind. I want to drag her to a dark corner and fuck her so hard she sings my name and yet I still hate her with the same intensity I always have. Maybe even more, because now I can’t keep my mind, or my eyes from her.

Fuck.

The music starts and I haven’t moved. Rowena and Juliette stand, both of them still. Rowena’s eyes are pinned to me. She’s not begging me to come out, rather waiting for me to join her.

Remy and Candice waltz in front of them, followed by the weirdoes with the matching shirts. His says I DON’T DO BALLS. Hers says BUT I DO. I think I may vomit.

“Why don’t you go play with your boyfriend,” Anthura quips. “I’m going to dance with Moloch. The idiot will probably fuck it up for all of us and step on my feet, so you might want to give us a wide berth. I’ve got something secret planned for later and I don’t want you not being able to move.”

My muscles tense and my fingers curl into fists and Rowena stares, her eyes sparking with defiance. Seeing her waiting for me to cross the dance floor is harder than I imagined. I fucked the damn bitch, so why can’t I dance with her? It’s one fucking dance and then I never have to go anywhere near her again.

But I can’t and that makes me angry. I’ve never been in a situation where I’m rendered incapable before. I make sure I’m ready for anything, knowing all my opponents moves beforehand. But now I’m in check mate. If I don’t dance with her, I lose. It’s as simple as that. I don’t go down to the next circle and I’m stuck in this pink perverted cotton candy fueled nightmare for the rest of eternity. That should be enough of an incentive to step onto the dance floor, but something is stopping me.

Because if I dance with her now, I’ll never have the excuse to go near her again and this will be over.

Everyone else is already dancing or in the process of finding their partners. There’s an aura of anticipation and a desperation to be the best. It’s fucking cut throat. As I watch, someone shoves another dancer, sending them sprawling to the ground.

And still I don’t move. Juliette whispers something in Rowena’s ear. It must be something bad because she doesn’t take her eyes from me as she nods her head. The music speeds up and I’m acutely aware that I’m losing points with my inability to move.

Juliette grabs hold of Rowena’s skirt and yanks at it. Layers of some kind of floaty fabric drop to the floor, surrounding Rowena’s feet like a cloud of blue. Juliette does the same with her skirt, dropping it to the floor. Somewhere someone screams with delight and there’s a collective murmur of excitement rippling out from the two women. From Rowena. She’s wearing black stockings and black frilly panties and fuck me heels with an expression to match. She’s no longer quietly asking me to join her, she’s demanding it. She’s fucking intimidating. I step forward and grab her by the waist. No one intimidates me.

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