The Raven Game by Jessica Sorensen

Raven

I’m having the strangest dream. In it, I die, killed by the hands of some peculiar undead, human-looking creatures. Zombies maybe? They’re not drooling, though, or moaning about eating brains. But my only knowledge about zombies is from movies and books, so …

I don’t know, for sure, if they are zombies. For starters, they have weird Xs carved into their foreheads. That definitely can’t be a zombie thing, right? Plus, they’re wearing black cloaks and are moving relatively fast. Not like super-fast, since I’m currently kicking one of their asses. Because, yeah, in my dreams, I’m a regular fighting badass. A kick to the face, a fist to the gut. Man, this thing is struggling. And I’m totally enjoying it right up until it moans out my name.

“Ravenlee …” the thing groans as it hunches over in pain. “It’s me … sweetie …” It reaches toward me with its boney hands.

I freeze, panting, partly due to the last several minutes of fighting these zombie-like creatures off and partly because …

“Dad?” I breathe out in horror.

It nods, staggering toward me.

My heart races in my chest. I want to run, but I also need to know if this is really my dad. So, I remain frozen as it staggers over the debris covering the living room floor. When it nears me, it stops and straightens, looking me straight in the eye. And then … it fucking smiles one of those twisted, hollow-mouthed smiles.

“I’m going to murder you like you did me.”

It moves lightning-quick, wrapping its fingers around my neck.

I choke, gasping for air, as it lifts me up until my feet don’t touch the floor.

“Revenge is wonderful, don’t you think?” it asks in glee. Then its grip constricts, the last of the air slipping from my lungs, until all I see is darkness—

My eyes shoot open, and I suck in a huge breath, panic flaring through me when my lungs tighten in protest. Darkness encompasses me. I can’t see anything.

Oh my God, I really am dying. I can’t breathe. I’m going to die.

“Just give it a moment,” someone says from right beside me.

I feel a hand touch my back. Whoever it is, their fingers are stiff, as if they don’t really want to be touching me.

It takes me a moment to connect everything—the sound of their voice, their stiffness, the smell of cologne mixed with cigarettes.

“Zay?” I ask in a raspy tone.

Oxygen is gradually returning to my lungs, but it’s still hard to breathe.

“Yeah, it’s me.” His tone is guarded, but I think that’s kind of how Zay is—a guarded douchebag. And one I have apparently known for a long time.

“What happened?” I ask. “And, why can’t I see?”

“Just give your eyes a minute to adjust.” He moves his hand up and down my back.

I don’t know what weirds me out more—the fact that I can’t see or the fact that he’s rubbing my back. Usually, he acts repulsed by me. Well, except for that one time he jumped into the freezing river to save me then thawed me out with his body heat.

So, yeah, I guess he doesn’t hate me all the time. Still, this is fucking weird.

I blink a few times, attempting to force myself to see, to no avail. Panic creeps up inside me, and I reach out to grab on to something, only to end up smacking Zay in what I’m guessing is his face.

“Sorry,” I mutter, pulling back.

“It’s fine,” he says.

Um, what?Since when is he nice about things?

Then, to add to the confusion, he takes my hand and holds it.

What in the actual fuck?

“Is your breathing okay?” He slides his fingers around and presses them against my wrist. That’s when I realize why he’s holding my hand—to check my pulse.

I nod. “Yeah … it’s better.” I try to recall what happened before I … blacked out? Was that even what happened?

“Memory loss?” he asks.

I begin to nod when images flash through my mind.

That song. Remembering how I once knew Jax, Hunter, and Zay, although the details are still hazy. And then there were those creatures with the Xs on their heads that broke into the house, my badass fighting skills that the guys supposedly taught me, and blood trickling from my wrist from getting clawed by one of those creatures …

And that’s about where the memory fizzles out.

“I think I remember now,” I tell him. “Well, most of it, anyway.”

Zay skims his thumb across the inside of my wrist, right along the scar I put there, and I tense.

“How’s your vision? Can you see anything yet?”

I shake my head then pause as the darkness starts to fade from my eyes. I squint against the dim lighting casted around the room I’m in. It has padded walls, just like in that room that doctor locked me up in once after I was accused of killing my parents. Only, this padding is black. Still, the sight is freaking me the hell out.

“Why am I in a mental institution?” I snap, jerking my wrist back. Then I spring to my feet, searching for an exit, something I spent a lot of time doing while locked up in the mental institution. Then my brain registers the rest of my surroundings, and I start to relax.

The ceiling is bloodred and has a chandelier made of black metal thorns hanging from it. The shelves on the wall are lined with daggers, knives, and swords; an ebony table and chairs run down the middle of the room; and a flat-screen TV hangs on the wall that shows views of rooms and hallways in the guy’s home and outside the house.

I take note of where I am, or where I was just a second ago, before I jumped to my feet—on a massive bed lined with silky red sheets and velvet comforters and pillows. Zay is sitting on the edge of it and is looking at me. He has a few cuts on his face, but they’ve been cleaned. He has also changed his clothes and is now wearing grey pants, a button-down, short-sleeved black shirt, and a thin, red tie.

Why is he so dressed up? Where are Hunter and Jax? Better yet … “Where am I?” I peer around again before letting my gaze land on Zay then arch my brow like explain.

“We’re in the security room in our house. It’s the safest and most private room in the place.” He sweeps his gaze across me. “How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?”

I take mental note of my body and the few aches and pains I can feel. I lift one of my wrists that has a slightly dull ache in it and find a bandage wrapped around it.

“Why’s my wrist bandaged?” I grow frustrated with myself for having to ask so many damn questions. But I need some damn answers.

“It’s where one of the shadow feeders clawed you.” He knits his brows. “Don’t you remember?”

“I can remember. I just …” I blow out a frustrated exhale. “Everything’s a little hazy. I mean, I can remember up until the point where I saw blood dripping from my wrist, but then …” I bite down on my bottom lip. “Did I black out?”

He hesitates. “Sort of.”

“Sort of? How did I sort of black out? That makes no sense.” I glance around the room again. “None of this really does.”

He stands up. “Does anything else, besides your wrist, hurt?” he asks, ignoring my questions. Then he reaches out and lightly brushes his fingers along my hip. “How’s your side doing?”

Shit.I forgot about how he saw the words carved into my flesh right before I … blacked out?

“It’s fine,” I reply tightly.

“Are you sure?” he checks. “It was bleeding pretty badly for a bit. Hunter bandaged it up and everything, but it looked like it hurt.”

As horror whisks through me, I step back. “Hunter bandaged it up in front of you? So, you, like, saw … everything?” Sure, I showed Hunter the words the other day, but only after he revealed the scars on his body. And Hunter’s been semi-nice to me, while Zay has just been an asshole.

I feel way too exposed right now, to the point where I feel like I’m about to crawl out of my skin. I need some drugs. Or a razor blade. Or something else that will numb my mind.

I’m about to walk out one of the two doors in the room, hoping it leads to the hallway, where I can find a hit or two, but as I step forward, Zay captures my arm.

“Raven,” he says hesitantly. “I know a lot of shit happened between us over the last couple of days, but I … I just …” He huffs out an exhale then rubs his free hand across his forehead. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? Things have changed, and you and I—all of us—we need to trust each other … It’s crucial.”

I eye him over suspiciously. “Why?”

He lowers his hand to his side, his lips parting, but then he trails off as a door swings open and Jax and Hunter walk in.

Like Zay, they’re both dressed up. Jax is wearing a black, button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, black pants, and a red tie that matches Zay’s, and strands of his inky black hair hang in his eyes. Hunter has on a red tie, too, but his shirt is light grey and trimmed with dark grey stitching, and he has on black pants. His blond hair looks damp, like he just got out of the shower.

“Why do you guys match?” I question, a little creeped out. After everything that’s happened, I half-expect them to tell me they’re in like a cult or something and are about to attend a ceremony.

Jax startles for a second at the sight of me, but then he hastily collects himself. “Because we’re heading to a party.”

“What?” That so was not what I expected him to say. “You’re going to a party? After what just happened? Are you insane?”

He stops just short of me, quickly scrolling his gaze up and down me. “Unfortunately, this isn’t the type of party you probably think it is,” he tells me as Hunter shuts the door and slowly makes his way into the room. “Honestly, I wouldn’t call it a party. The bosses are just calling it that.”

“So, you guys are doing a work thing right now?” I’m so confused. Just hours, or minutes—however long it’s been—those strange creatures were attacking us, and now they’re just going to go back to work?

No one says anything for a moment.

“How much do you remember before you went unconscious?” Jax finally asks me cautiously.

“Most of it,” I say with a shrug. “But that doesn’t make me any less confused since I didn’t really know what was going on before that. And, to be totally honest with you, I’m not even sure why I passed out.”

Jax sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. “You remember being clawed by the shadow feeder?” he asks, and I nod. “Well, their claws contain a toxic poison.”

“Oh. Okay. Cool.” My tone sounds utterly emotionless, not that I’m not freaked out.

I think I’m in shock.

“Oh. Okay. Cool?” Hunter steps up beside Jax with his head tilted to the side, a somewhat puzzled yet amused look on his face. “That’s all you have to say?”

“I don’t know what else to say. I mean, a couple of days ago, when I couldn’t remember this weird game stuff that I can now, I’d be freaking the hell out over the idea of monsters with toxic claws existing. Well, maybe not freaking the hell out, but I’d be unsettled. From what I can remember now … I think I’ve known they existed for a long time?” I say it like it’s a question because my mind still feels sort of groggy, as if I’m a princess who’s been in a deep slumber for years. Or, well, not a princess, but like a pixie or faerie or something … I really don’t want to think of myself as a princess.

Hunter wets his lips with his tongue then inches forward. “You’ve seen them before … a long time ago.” He lightly brushes his fingers across my cheek.

His skin is so warm and soft, and the gesture feels so familiar. I should pull away. It’s weird, right? To just let him touch me like this after everything? But I can’t bring myself to do so. I figure that he’ll do it when Jax reminds him of the rules.

Right on cue, Jax parts his lips. “We need to get you cleaned up,” he says, throwing me off guard.

“I … Why?” I ask as Hunter lowers his hand from my cheek.

“Because you’re coming to the party with us,” he says as he stuffs his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah, I’m going to have to go with a hard pass on that,” I reply. “I’m way too confused still to be wanting to party it up.”

“This isn’t that kind of party,” Zay mutters from behind me at the same time Jax asks, “What’re you confused about?”

I decide to focus on what Jax asked first because it seems more important right now. “How did I get better from the poison? Where did those creatures go? What about this game you guys kept talking about before I blacked out? I can remember some vague details about that, but I’m still confused. And, why am I in this room?”

“You’re in this room because it’s the safest room in the house,” Jax explains. “No one can hack into it. Or, more specifically, our bosses can’t.”

“Plus, all our weapons are in here,” Hunter adds. “And it’s also soundproof.”

“Okay, but why’s there a bed in it?” As soon as the words leave my lips, I regret them.

Hunter and Zay both glance at Jax, who just sort of shifts his weight and looks uncomfortable. I remember a few comments Zay and Hunter said to me about Jax and how he liked to make women scream. Sexual comments, I’m pretty sure. Although, I’m not knowledgeable in that particular subject.

“Never mind.” I change the subject. “So, how did I get cured from the poison?”

The corners of Hunter’s lips twitch, like he finds me amusing, something that seems to happen a lot.

“We got an antidote,” Jax explains, studying me closely.

“From whom?” I wonder.

“Our bosses.” He retrieves his phone from his pocket and checks the time. “Look, we don’t really have time to explain everything right now.” I’m about to demand some answers when he adds, “However, if you’ll hurry and get ready, we’ll tell you what happened while you were unconscious during the ride.”

Hmm … he’s agreeable now? Why? Because he used to know me?

Just who exactly was I to them? That’s what I need to find out.

“Fine.” I pause as I note their nice outfits again. “I’m totally okay with doing that and everything. However, with the way you guys are dressed, I’m assuming this party has a dress code, and all I have is this to wear.” I gesture to my ripped stockings, my bloodstained shirt, and torn shorts.

“That’s already taken care of.” Hunter steps toward me with his hand outstretched.

I don’t take his hand. Instead, I cock an eyebrow at him. “You went to my uncle and aunt’s house and got some of my clothes?”

He shakes his head, strands of his hair falling into his pretty eyes. “No, we got you new clothes.”

I pull a wary face. “You picked out clothes for me? How long have I been out?”

“A few hours,” Hunter replies with his hand still extended toward me. “We knew you were going to need something nice to wear to the party before you woke up but didn’t want to have to go to your uncle’s house and go through your stuff. Well, that, and we were afraid one of us might try to kill him, and that can’t happen yet.” A flash of rage flickers in his eyes. “Anyway”—he quickly clears his throat—“we picked you out an outfit from a local store and had it delivered.”

It takes me a moment to say anything because I’m still stuck on his remark about killing my uncle. Sure, I told the guys I wanted to get revenge on my uncle, but murdering him wasn’t what I thought they meant. To hear Hunter, this lighthearted, joking guy, say it throws me off for a beat.

“Um …” I tear myself from my thoughts and focus on saying, “I really need to dress up?” I tug at the bottom of my T-shirt. “Maybe I can just wash my clothes.”

Jax shakes his head. “One of the rules states that you must wear proper attire, or you can’t get in.”

And … the rules are back. Then again, I don’t believe this is the guys’ rule, which makes me wonder if their rules still apply.

“Can you at least tell me what sort of party this is?” I ask.

Jax stares at me for a slamming heartbeat of a second. “It’s the starting ceremony party for the games.”