Before I can think much about that, though, Macy complains about a wolf she wants to teach a lesson. When she doesn’t elaborate, I remember she never answered my earlier question. “Macy? You’re not really competing, are you?”
Macy’s whole face lights up. “Of course I’m competing! This is the first year I can compete, and I can’t effing wait!”
“You go, girl,” Flint says as he drops down onto a chair at the end of the table beside Hudson, who gets up and leans against a nearby wall. “This year’s tournament is going to be epic.”
Flint holds a hand out for a fist bump, and Macy nearly swallows her tongue. Right before she bumps his fist hard enough to give herself a bruise. Apparently, some things never change…
“Completely epic,” Jaxon agrees. “When do we need to register our team by?”
“This Wednesday,” Flint says. He waits for a few seconds, then says oh so casually but not actually casually at all, “Do you guys have your team together yet, Jaxon?”
Jaxon eyes him for a few seconds, and at first I’m confused by what’s going on—if Jaxon is going to do this, isn’t he going to compete with the Order? But then I remember what Hudson told me yesterday about how the game fosters interspecies relationships…and injuries, apparently.
“You want to team up?” Jaxon asks, just as casually but not really.
“I was thinking about it. Eden and I were going to partner up with Xavier, but we still need to add some vamps and witches.” He looks at me. “And maybe a gargoyle?”
When hell freezes over.
48
Win, Lose, or Die
“What? Me?” I ask, my eyes going huge. “I mean…I don’t think… Can gargoyles really compete?” I know Amka said I could, but I thought she was just teasing me.
And, by the way, please let the answer be no. Please let the answer be no. I’m not fabulous at sports to begin with, let alone paranormal sports where the goal is not to die, but there is no guarantee. Not to mention the fact that I have no idea what my powers are yet… I mean, besides turning to stone, which doesn’t seem very helpful in a game anyway.
“Ludares is open to every junior and senior in the school,” Flint tells me. “So, hell yeah, you can compete. Plus, I’m totally down with having a gargoyle on my team. Who knows what you can do?”
“Nothing,” I answer. “I can do nothing. That’s the problem.”
“That’s not true,” Hudson tells me from where he’s still leaning against the wall. “You can do things. You just don’t know what they are yet.”
“How do you know?” Equal parts terror and excitement thrum through me as I lean forward. “Did you see me do something when we were together?”
The whole table is staring at me again. I ignore them because apparently this is my life for now. I hadn’t meant to ask the question out loud, but sometimes I get so caught up or invested in the conversation that I don’t realize what I’m doing.
I vaguely register Macy telling everyone that I can see and talk to Hudson—at least I think that’s what she says because suddenly everyone in the Order tenses up and turns to Jaxon, who just shrugs. Which is fine with me, since right now I’m more interested in hearing what Hudson has to say than I am worried about Jaxon’s friends staring at me.
“You mean besides keeping me trapped in stone with you for nearly three and a half months?” He raises one brow.
I sigh and throw my hands up. Because I already know that. “Yeah, that’s basically my point. I can’t imagine being much help on a team when all I can do is turn to stone. It’s kind of easy to catch me that way.”
Hudson chuckles. “There’s more, you know. Like, the wings aren’t for decoration only—you just need to figure out how to use them.”
That’s true. And Flint did offer to teach me—maybe I should take him up on those flying lessons sooner rather than later. I mean, if I can even turn back into a gargoyle again. I haven’t felt so much as a tingling over the last four days.
“I think I’ll sit the game out,” I say to the table at large, who are all still gaping at me—well, except for Flint and Macy, who are reminiscing about past Ludares tournaments. “I mean, you make it sound like so much fun, but—”
“No way!” Flint pauses with his fork in midair. “You have to play. Besides, your uncle mentioned that the prize this year is kick-ass.”
“Oh yeah?” Macy bounces excitedly. “What is it? He hasn’t even told me yet.”
“I was in his office when he got the call yesterday; that’s the only reason I know,” Flint tells her. “It looks like Byron’s parents have decided to donate the prize this year.”
“Really?” Mekhi looks surprised.
Actually, everyone at the table does. I remember Jaxon telling me Byron was the Order member whose mate was killed by a few members of Cole’s pack. Though, for a while at least, Byron seemed to think Hudson had somehow influenced the wolves to do what they did.
Hudson raises his brows. “Do I just get blamed for everyone’s deaths now?” He clenches his jaw and turns to read tomorrow’s menu posted on the wall.
“Stop taunting us and just tell us what the prize is, Flint.” Macy’s voice—a little whiny and a little annoyed—is what draws my attention back to the conversation this time.
Well, that and Jaxon shifting so that he’s pressed against my back, his chin resting on my shoulder.
I turn my face to the left so I can smile at him, and he winks back, then gives me a sexy little eyebrow raise that makes me think all kinds of things I shouldn’t be thinking about in the middle of the cafeteria—especially not when Jaxon’s brother is in my head, watching the whole thing.
“I’m not taunting you!” Flint sounds indignant now. “You guys are the ones who wouldn’t stop talking long enough for me to tell you.”
“Well, we’ve stopped talking now,” Luca says. “So spill it.”
“Byron’s parents have decided to donate…” He does a little drumroll on the dining table. “A bloodstone! And not just any bloodstone. It’s one of the queen’s favorites, from the royal collection, that she gifted his parents on the eve of his mate’s death.”
Everything inside me stills as I remember the Bloodletter telling us that she would take care of getting the bloodstone to us. This must be what she meant. A glance at Jaxon’s face tells me he thinks so, too—and that he isn’t the least bit surprised by this bit of news, either. He obviously had a good idea what the Bloodletter would do.