The God Game: Evangeline Heart Book 2 (Evangeline Heart Adventures) Read online

  Aurelia presses to the far side of the chariot and gestures to the extra space. “Come.”

  I step onto the woven leather floor and reach around Aurelia to grab a handhold. Pretty sure Rom won’t make any effort to keep me in the vehicle. As I settle myself, Aurelia’s fingertips brush my pants. I stiffen, but she gives me a shy smile as she faces forward.

  Rom turns the chariot around with a flick of the reins, and as the wheels pivot, it’s impossible to miss the black sky to the north. The short hairs rising on my nape have nothing to do with the drenching rain, and I shiver as icy tentacles tighten around my limbs. Rom pulls us to a halt again and we stare openmouthed at the utter blackness.

  He glances over his shoulder and studies me. He’s still not happy about the added delay, but his resentment slips away as the sky darkens.

  I check the swirler of a cloud. A huge circle is turning and the eye has a definite cone shape forming toward the earth. Thunder rumbles and the breeze picks up, pushing debris across the road and whipping at nearby pedestrians’ clothes and possessions.

  The horse fidgets and jerks Rom’s arms and upper body forward. He searches the traffic pattern of the people, his head on a swivel. I track his movements and bite my lip. We don’t have many options to get us out of the crowd.

  He sends us through a tiny opening and turns us off the road, coaxing the bay forward up the hill. People are everywhere. I can barely tell where the road ends. We ease our way over the short grass that’s now been trampled by hundreds of feet. Another large group crests from the backside at the same time, and Rom slows us to a walk until we’re through the crowd’s thickest part. Restless, the horse swings his frontend to the left and pushes a man and boy deeper into the thick pulsing mob. Rom croons to the big bay and leans forward to stroke the dark hip. The gesture doesn’t calm any of us.

  I don’t like this. Waiting it out seems too easy. Too vulnerable. I’d rather get her out of here.

  “We’re almost there.” Aurelia grips the front of the bucket and leans forward.

  At the top of the hill, the clumps of trees make small pockets of dry ground, but if this storm gets any worse, it’s not the brightest spot to wait out a lightning storm. That would be my luck though . . . save Aurelia from a flood to kill her with regular lightning. I scan the landscape. For now, there’s no other place to run.

  A baby screams and the bay rears, scattering the rest of the travelers around the chariot and inching us back down the hill until I can no longer see over the top. While Rom wrestles to get the horse controlled, I glance again at the storm clouds. They’ve doubled in size, roiling like an overflowing pot of black oil. Not good.

  Rom curses, and I wonder if he’s reconsidering his ban on my sorcery.

  The slightly inconvenient mist becomes real rain, quieting the wind, but drenching us within seconds.

  Time to go. I’ve given Rom long enough to get us out of here. I grip the chariot’s iron scrollwork until it bites my palms.

  I close my eyes and breathe. This has to work. The ozone stings my nostrils, and I fight to control my racing heart and the panic of screwing this up. Constantine’s angry tirade of the last time doesn’t help, and I silence the memory. Bad enough it’s his daughter I’m saving.

  Lightning flares from my fingers and I make the coil swing beneath the bucket. Pedestrians closest to the chariot freak out and press away, tightening the crowd and squashing the spaces Rom was using to maneuver the horse through. Doesn’t matter. I tighten my grip, dig deep, and curl another strand around the top of the bucket to get us out of there.

  The lightning flares and jerks away from the bucket then slams it like a battering ram. Darkness flickers. I hold tight to the image of Constantine’s house, but something yanks it away like a paper in a storm.

  Images layer over the top of each other and we spin left, then right like we’re in a psychotic tornado. We crash-land at the river’s edge, behind the entire group, giving up every foot we’d gained. The horse backs up faster than I’ve ever seen him go forward, and Rom does nothing to stop him.

  Aurelia grabs Rom’s arm and raises her voice. “Rom!”

  Crap. I knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it, but Aurelia was supposed to be safe. It was supposed to be worth the risk. Not this. Not both parts wrong.

  I don’t understand why nothing works like it’s supposed to. Rom gives himself a hard shake, but he wobbles and sags against the side of the chariot.

  I lean forward and slap the horse hard enough to make my entire hand sting and my elbow ache. He jumps to a stop, snorts, and takes a tentative step forward.

  Aurelia puts her hands on Rom’s cheek, and her touch pulls him out of his stupor. His eyes lose their glassiness and he smothers her fingers with his own. I give him half a second to recover. “No time for this!”

  My terseness jerks him upright and he sweeps Aurelia behind him. “You said no more magic.”

  “Really?” I yell. “You pick now to chew me out?” I point at the river less than three feet from the wheels of the chariot.

  He glares at me and pats the horse’s quivering rump. The tight skin by his lips is still an ashy gray. Scooping the reins, he swallows and clucks softly while he rubs the horse’s coat. It seems scared. Super glad we’re tied to the damn thing with a thousand straps and buckles. At least jumping out is closer to the ground than jumping off.

  “Now what?” Rom yells while his head whips back and forth, eying one end of the crowd to the other. The path to the top of the hill is covered with people frantic to cross the river. We are so screwed. I completely robbed us of every gain. Overhead, thunder rumbles.

  Both the road and path to the top of the hill clog with travelers, and not just the group we met. That bunch is almost to the bridge, but there’s a constant stream rounding the hill, creating a massive bottleneck. Very few take the small walkway toward the town on this side of the river, choosing instead to head toward the bridge. Maybe if most of the group were able-bodied young men, this wouldn’t have disaster written all over it, but moms carry babies and parcels, men lead animals and wagons loaded with cages of goods, and clumps of elderly men and women block the passage of everyone else. Easygoing attitudes fall by the wayside as more people push and shove to get over the river.

  I wish I’d have taken the time to get a better view of the backside of the hill when we were on top. “Where are these people coming from?”

  “The city,” Rom answers with a grunt as the horse leaps forward. “They went in to trade early this morn, but know the river will trap them if they don’t cross before the storm.”

  I glare at him. Just “mere rain,” my ass. He knew this was coming.

  He scowls back, the unsaid threat clear. Do not alarm Aurelia any more than you already have.

  Then stop working against me. I scowl back.

  He breaks contact as Aurelia says, “Those people will die if she speaks the truth. We cannot let them.”

  Rom stiffens and glances at me. Now the unsaid is worry and a plea.

  I’m in agreement and grip Aurelia’s elbow. “You can’t go. I’m here to keep you safe. There’s no way I’m letting you anywhere near that water.”

  She leans dangerously over the edge of the chariot. “But all those poor people.”

  I open my mouth and close it again. Nothing I can say will make this easier. But I can’t exactly stand here and watch them die, either.

  “Will you stay?” I ask her. “If Rom and I go to save them, will you stay put?”

  She sucks her lower lip between her teeth and nods. “I promise.”

  A worried pallor lightens the skin around Rom’s cheekbones. “This is a bad idea. We need to worry about Aurelia.”

  “But those people—” she says.

  “Are not you,” Rom says, interrupting and lowering his intense gaze until their noses almost touch.

  She plants her hands on her hips, lifts her chin, and glares back, managing to look imposing. “You will obey me, R
om.”

  He crosses his arms and mimics her. “I obey your father.”

  “Fine, then I’ll tell him you killed hundreds of people today and put me in danger.”

  His flinch is nearly imperceptible. If anything, he increases in size. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Would, too.”

  “Seconds matter here, people,” I say, interrupting. “Aurelia, I agree with Rom. Your safety is paramount.”

  “Look.” She points toward an outcropping on the other side of the road. “Take me there and I’ll wait. I promise not to stray.”

  The spot isn’t as high as I’d like, but we might have plenty of time to get her out of here before the water rises much more. Unless something goes wrong.

  A shiver coils around my spine. This is stupid. I need to get her safe, not the rest of these people. Ilif would never let a tourist get in the way of an arc. “No.”

  “Please.” She grabs my arm and tugs. “All these children. Please.”

  The plea in her voice breaks my heart, and for no other reason than because Ilif wouldn’t, I relent. Unless Rom tells her no.

  Rom uncrosses his arms. “Five attempts,” he says. “After that, we go.”

  Dammit.

  She looks to me for a counter, but I nod. An uneasy nausea builds as she beams and kisses our cheeks. First mine and then Rom’s, with a lingering touch at his jawline.

  Even though I avoid his attention, there’s no mistaking Rom’s glare as he urges the horse toward the outcropping. “Use your magic if it will keep her safe.”

  I clench my jaw. This is beyond stupid. I assume his reference to five “attempts” gives me less than fifteen minutes. Barely enough time to alert everyone near the bridge and get the stragglers across it, but hopefully it’s enough for Aurelia.

  Rom eases us back through the swarm of people until the outcropping edges alongside the chariot. Raindrops slide down my forehead and drip from my jaw, but I’ve stopped trying to stay dry.

  Hordes of travelers bump against our metal basket, making it sway and rock in the wheelset. Any confidence I’ve had in its construction wanes. Every small movement grates on my nerves, and I can almost hear the second hand of an invisible clock ticking loudly beside my ear.

  The horse prances in time to the second hand, our own personal metronome of impending doom.

  Aurelia turns to Rom. “Be safe. Please come back to me. . .”

  He lifts a dark hand to her porcelain cheek, but halts before making contact, leaving a stretch of air between them. Aurelia presses forward, closing the inches. His caress is butterfly soft. “I must come back. Who else will keep you from trouble?”

  She doesn’t laugh at his weak attempt at levity, but curls her slim fingers around his, answering his unsaid feelings. A cold river of rain leaks under my collar. I force myself not to fidget. Come on, come on.

  He clears his throat and straightens, dropping his arm. She spins and grabs my hands. “Come back and teach me these fantastic things you know.”

  I bite back my antsiness. She’s a whole lot of Constantine with a sprinkle of his sister, Anna. I could like her.

  But first, I have to save her.

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