Chapter 22
They kept the outdoor hypervolley field plowed for the players, but the bleachers were covered in a sheet of ice, and Eden couldn’t understand why this many people willingly tortured themselves with the cold all for a college ballgame.
He was dressed as warmly as possible, in a thick coat layered over a red cashmere sweater, with matching gloves and a scarf. There were heating pads in his pockets, and Ares had prepared for the frozen metal seats and draped a folded blanket onto the bench before telling Eden to sit.
The Black Hart even had hot chocolate delivered directly to them at halftime. Since they were seated in the front row, closest to the field, they got tons of stares from the surrounding crowd. Students and professors alike whispered about them, some of their comments carrying on the wind.
The most frequently asked question was if the two of them were together, and as much as it annoyed him, Eden had to agree he understood where all the confusion was coming from.
He was clearly dressed in Ares’ color, was being treated like a precious boyfriend, and there was a rumor going around that Eden had told Professor Inzer they were dating.
Yet for the past hour or so, the Black Hart had been on his multi-slate playing Vanity.
The. Entire. Time.
He hadn’t even glanced up when their drinks were dropped off. Had merely held out his hand and waited for the poor delivery guy to set the paper cup in his grasp.
Neither of them gave a shit about sports or this game, and he got that, but Lucifer had escaped into Vanity, leaving Eden to twiddle his thumbs like a fool.
It was almost as if Eden were here alone, for all the conversation they’d exchanged, and by the time the band had finished up and the second half was about to start, he’d lost patience.
“You have to kill the little android first, then the two big ones. That storyline ends with Ransom injured and OP needing to nurse him back to health in an abandoned cabin in the woods,” he spoiled the plot shamelessly, continuing when Ares noticeably stiffened at his side.
“The last thing Ransom says before the Memory card ends is,” he leaned in closer and altered his voice slightly, using the pitch he typically did when he was recording, “Whenever you’re lost, I’ll find you. ”
Ares was still as a statue for a moment, then he huffed, shut the game down, and glowered at Eden.
He shrugged and turned back to the field, not bothering to conceal his satisfaction at having ruined it for Ares. “Why aren’t you paying attention anyway? This seems like the type of sport you’d be into. It’s bloody and violent for no good reason.”
Hypervolley was played on a hundred and twenty-yard field, with eleven players per team.
There was a single circular hoop at either side of the field, which bobbed and swayed with the breeze.
On days like today, when the winter wind was strong, the hoop moved a lot, making it more difficult for players to score.
Controls kept the hoop within a five-foot radius on any given side, so there was always a general location for the ball to be aimed.
The ball, made of fringe crystal, was kicked between players, and couldn’t be allowed to touch the ground.
Hands were only allowed to be used within fourteen yards of the hoop.
All other body parts were allowed everywhere else.
Players wore padding in vital areas, but everywhere else—like their thighs and their arms—they were allowed to make the call themselves.
Fringe crystal was spongy when its surface was flat, yet hard as stone when it was angled.
The eight-sided ball could bruise and cut if one of the edges connected with skin.
Players trained on how best to control the ball, how to safely hand it off between teammates, and how to turn it into a weapon against rivals when cornered.
“There’s a reason,” Ares disagreed. “Victory.”
Eden grunted. “They don’t get anything tangible at the end of the day for winning. Unless the hospital bills most of them will receive count.”
“How is that any different from the game we’re playing?” He quirked a brow. “You won’t get anything physical for enacting your vengeance.”
“Sure I will.” When he frowned, Eden widened his stance so that his thigh brushed against Ares’. “I get you, remember? I’m sure half the people here would cream themselves at the mere chance of getting rammed by your god cock.”
“I’m the God of Creation,” Ares stated, “not fornication.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“Is this your attempt at complimenting me in a roundabout way?” He clicked his tongue. “Why do you always have to take the complex route? You can’t just tell me you enjoyed sitting on my cock, and you wish you were doing it again right now?”
“No.”
Ares sighed but let it go. “For the record, I have no interest in things that are bloody or violent.”
This time, it was Eden’s turn to give him a look. “I saw the precision you used to take Zonnie apart.”
“Just because I’m good at something doesn’t mean I enjoy it. I’m rather adept at dying too, but that doesn’t mean it’s fun for me.”
There was still so much to unpack there.
Eden had put off looking into the experiment all week, lying to himself that it simply wasn’t important, when in reality he knew he just wasn’t brave enough.
The second he went further down the rabbit hole, it’d be too late to turn back, and he knew that no matter what he found there, it was going to make him feel things for the man sitting next to him.
Things had been easier when Ares had been an imposing stranger in the dark. A fallen angel come calling, or the devil offering a deal. Eden would exchange his soul for revenge without a second's thought, but when it came to his heart, he was more…hesitant.
He’d only recently started to believe that was something Ares was legitimately interested in. The Black Hart had been up front about his intentions from the beginning, but it’d been too hard to believe him. After this past week, however, it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.
“Am I?” Eden found himself asking, attention completely on the man at his side now. “Am I fun for you?”
Ares shifted, his knees bumping against Eden’s leg. “Why does that sound like a weighted question? What’s been going through that head of yours lately, Paradise?”
“When does this act end?”
“Act?”
Eden nodded. “When do you stop treating me like this? Is it once you win? Am I meant to be the shiny trophy you polish and take photos with, and then ultimately set aside on a shelf somewhere to collect dust?”
His gaze softened. “You know that’s not true. Why do you do this to yourself?”
“Do what?”
“Pick everything apart until it’s unrecognizable.
I gave you a completed puzzle. You’re the one choosing to deconstruct it.
” Ares captured Eden’s left hand and tucked it into his own pocket.
There were no handwarmers there, but he kept his palm over Eden’s.
“It’s been a month now. Do you still think I’m settling for you because I can’t have Ransom? ”
Eden sipped at his cocoa, careful not to scald his tongue, and considered how to respond.
“Where is this coming from?” Ares clearly didn’t want to wait for him to figure it out. “You were obviously extremely close with your family, and you’ve had a steady set of friends. You don’t have abandonment issues or trauma that could result in these types of insecurities.”
“Not every reaction has to be trauma-induced,” he stated. “Sometimes people just feel things, Lucifer, for no rhyme or reason.”
“Ah, so you’re saying not everything has to come with a lengthy descriptive label or explanation?”
Eden’s eyes narrowed. “I see what you’re doing.”
“You have a tendency to talk yourself in circles. I can’t be blamed for using your own logic against you. Tell me, Paradise, what are you really afraid of here? That I’m treating you well just to win you over? That it’s all an act? Or that I’m not and it isn’t?”
“You don’t have to do any of this,” he said. “Our deal—”
“You altered the rules of our arrangement when you called me your boyfriend.”
“I was trying to get under Inzer’s skin, you know that.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Why not?”
“Because I liked hearing it too much.” Suddenly, Ares tipped his head in the direction of the field. “We can continue spiraling later. We came here with a purpose, and you’re about to miss it.”
Eden turned back to the game, eyes scanning for Sedos in his white and red uniform.
He was racing across the green, attention on where the ball was being kicked between two of his teammates in center field.
Since he wasn’t close enough to them to be a threat, it made sense that he wasn’t watching out for attacks.
“What are they—” Eden gasped when one of the opposing teammates suddenly dropped and slid, his trajectory apparent even though it all happened so fast.
There were screams, people shooting to their feet in the crowds, but since they were in the front row, no one blocked Eden’s view.
He watched as the player slammed into Sedos. Saw his leg snap and bend in an impossible direction, and heard the scream of pain. It wasn’t quite like the ones Zonnie had made, but it was close enough to instantly have Eden’s stomach turning.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he buried his face against Ares’ shoulder, not wanting to see any more, the horrified crowd helping to block out the rest of the sounds Sedos’ may or may not be making.
“Are you going to throw up?” Ares asked quietly.
Eden swallowed the bile that threatened to rise and gave a single shake of his head, unwilling to pull away just yet. If anything, he shifted closer, one hand still tucked in Ares’ pocket, his other arm instinctively wrapping around the Black Hart’s waist so he could cling to him as he shook.
“You’re such a contradiction,” Ares spoke as though he found that endearing, and then patted Eden’s head. “They’re removing him from the field now. We can go as soon as they’re gone.”
“Is he…?” Eden didn’t even know what he was trying to ask.
“He’ll be crippled for the rest of his life,” Ares provided anyway, somehow knowing.
He always seemed to know what Eden needed to hear.
“Your father’s left leg was broken in several places,” he reminded.
“I know that’s what makes this hard for you.
That you’re being forced to imagine the sort of pain your family went through at the end, but try to focus on how they deserve it.
We’ve simply returned the favor.” His multi-slate beeped, and he checked the message.
“Ellery just texted. Apparently, Sedos landed wrong and also broke his wrist. Bonus points.”
“I want him dead.” All week, Eden had watched from the sidelines as the campus turned on Sedos and the student scrambled to find a reason for his sudden ostracization.
Now, after an injury like that, the guy was going to be hospitalized for months.
There was a certain misery in that as well, of course, but Eden didn’t want it.
Not for Sedos' sake, but for his own, because Ares was right. This whole ordeal was forcing him to wonder if that’s how his father had looked when his limbs had been shattered. If his scream had sounded the same. If he’d been as scared.
Eden thought of Zar in the garage, casually ordering Ares to shoot a random stranger for him. How Ares had reacted without question.
“Kill him,” Eden said, the words muffled against Ares’ coat collar.
Ares clicked away on his multi-slate, sending a message without skipping a beat. “Done. He won’t even make it to the hospital.”
If there was a problem, the God of Creation would solve it. It really was that simple.
“Are you like this for everyone?” he couldn’t help but ask.
“No.”
“Just for your brother then?” And him, obviously, though Eden stubbornly left that part out. This wasn’t the time for that stupid spark of misplaced jealousy, and yet he couldn’t snuff it out like he could his disgust at seeing a man’s leg snapped in half.
“Paradise.” Ares' fingers tightened in the hairs at the back of Eden’s head, and he tugged until Eden was forced from his hiding spot.
He met his gaze sternly. “I told you. You possess the God of Creation. You do. No one else. What I owe Balthazar can’t be measured, but he doesn’t own me.
He has a seat at my table, but you’re the king on my throne. ”
“More poetry.” Light damn Eden for letting it work on him.
Ares’ hand slid forward, seizing his jaw and holding him still. “Use me. What use is there in possessing a god if you don’t command him? Keep running from the inevitable if it pleases you but play your cards right while you do so. No creature of mine will lose the upper hand lightly.”
“You also said you’re the one in control.”
“I hold the reins, but you set the pace.”
“I want to leave.” Eden stood, and he didn’t pull away when Ares took his hand and led him up the pathway.
Everyone was so busy staring at their multi-slates and exclaiming about the suddenness of Sedos’ injury, they hardly paid him and the Black Hart any mind.