Chapter 6 #2
“And you’re quite pretty, with such lovely skin.
” Senora Montoya grabbed Lo’s chin and inspected her face as if she were a doll.
“And your children would have been even lovelier. My Lucas could have given you babies with sunshine hair and eyes as bright and blue as the sky. Wouldn’t that have been nice?
” Senora Montoya drawled, voice light and dreamy.
Lo’s lip curled. She wanted to rip the woman’s hands off her.
“Why is she certain that the babies would look like that?” Dominic whispered a bit too loudly.
“Only Dios can control that.” He looked so confused and concerned.
Lo fought a smile at the blatant mockery.
Senora Montoya, on the other hand, seemed anything but amused, but before she could spit out a retort, a puff of smoke erupted a few feet away from her.
“Ay, madre de Dios!” she shrieked. Several others in the group gasped and swore.
“Congratulations to all of you,” a voice boomed.
The smoke cleared, revealing Misterioso, only he looked much different.
He had replaced his black suit with a white one, along with a golden cape and cravat.
He wore a matching top hat, and now his skull mask covered only the top half of his face, stopping just below his upper lip.
He flashed a wide grin and tipped his hat.
His animated movements reminded Lo of a wind-up toy.
“The house has deemed all eleven of your souls worthy.”
“Eleven?” Senora Montoya murmured. “Was it not supposed to be just ten? Perhaps there was a mistake and one of us isn’t worthy to be here.” She sneered at Mayté and Carlos.
“Actually,” Misterioso interrupted, somehow hearing her, “our Gamemakers couldn’t decide on just ten, so eleven it is.”
Senora Montoya spoke loudly this time. “But the rules—”
“We make the rules,” Mysterioso corrected. “Which means we can decide to change them.”
“I see.” Senora Montoya looked away and her cheeks turned a delicious shade of pink. Served her right for being such a wretch.
“Though between us and the wall, I much prefer even numbers.” Mysterioso made a show of acting as if this were a scandalous secret. “Now, then. Take a look at those around you. Until the game ends, they will be both your brethren and your competition.”
Mayté and Carlos glowered at each other, while Dominic smiled at Lo. She bit back a scoff and studied the rest of her competition.
She had expected the crowd to be full of people like Mayté and Carlos—the lower class desperate to change their fates—but she instantly recognized a middle-aged man with light brown skin in a lavish suit.
Don Martín Zelaya’s ancestors were infamous for leading Ciudad Milagro back when it was first colonized.
They could be considered the source of el orden, though by the way he eyed Senora Montoya, gaze thick with contempt, it was clear that he thought himself better than even her.
With a grin full of straight teeth, and a head of abundant, graying hair, he was aging gracefully.
Some might have even considered him quite handsome, but Lo knew better.
He reminded her of her father. He had a coldness to him, all the way down to the icy undertones in his complexion.
Next to him stood Xiomara Fernandez, her burgundy lips turned up like a cursed crescent moon as she grinned and laughed at whatever Don Zelaya said.
Her deep amber skin glowed against her plunging red gown and her crown of dark brown curls added to her allure.
She sparkled like a jewel and by the confident way she carried herself, she knew it too.
She often did business with Lo’s father and the other noble families.
Sometimes Lo wondered if she was one of her father’s mistresses with the way she always came around the hacienda.
Why would the likes of those two need Fortune’s Kiss?
Lo caught a lighter-skinned woman staring at her.
She had on a pink dress embroidered with a rainbow of flowers.
Shiny raven hair hung freely just past her shoulders.
“Carmen?” Lo whispered. She almost hadn’t recognized her favorite maid out of her uniform, but she could never forget Carmen’s kind and comforting face.
As soon as they locked eyes, Carmen smiled and nodded at her.
Lo’s stomach churned. After everything Carmen had done to protect Lo and her sisters from her father, now Lo would repay her by competing against her and ruining her chances of making her dreams come true.
“On that note.” Misterioso lifted a gloved finger, bone-white like the rest of his attire. It made the small bits of his visible brown skin stand out, but the real star of the show was his toothy grin, framed by the deepest dimples that Lo had ever seen. “Let us begin our first game.”
“What?” Lo gasped and the rest of the competitors burst into confused murmurs.
“Already?”
“Don’t we need to settle in?”
“But you just said—”
“Now, now,” Misterioso cheerfully scolded.
“The game will be explained in due time, and afterward we shall have our welcome dinner and then a tour of the salon. It will be very grand, so I sincerely hope you are all … able to make it.” His gaze met every player.
“Now come along,” Misterioso said. “Everyone is awaiting your arrival.”
Misterioso ushered them all onto the elevator.
The circular box fit the final eleven with room to spare.
He snapped his fingers, and the elevator began its steady ascent.
Lo’s stomach squeezed with anticipation.
Dominic hovered around them as if he were one of his own loyal pooches, and Carlos kept trying to talk with Mayté only to be shushed and waved away each time.
“Young man.” Misterioso turned to Carlos after his fourth failed attempt at speaking with Mayté. “The senorita didn’t want to talk to you a moment ago, I don’t think she will change her mind so quickly.”
The other contestants chuckled, Dominic included.
Carlos’s ears reddened, and he didn’t say another word.
The elevator slowed to a stop. “This is where the magic happens,” Misterioso declared as the doors opened. The group stepped into a large room and gaped at their surroundings. “Welcome, contestants, to the gaming den. This is where you will compete for Fortune’s Kiss.”
This room stretched out, full of different tables.
Candle chandeliers dangled from above, illuminating a night sky mural above.
Black velvet curtains covered each doorway, and golden skeletal sculptures stood guard.
The walls and seats were the color of crushed rubies.
Vines and orange marigolds slithered down marble pillars.
Statues of alebrijes flanked the doors—scowling lions with feathered manes, butterfly wings, and the tail of a mermaid.
The air carried a slight whiff of incense and forbidden magic.
Everything about this space dripped with eerie luxury, suited for the nobles of the Underworld.
Applause filled the room. Lo flinched. She hadn’t even noticed that there were other people. Croupiers dressed in black suits came forward, faces decorated to resemble calaveras.
“Wait!” Lo gasped and darted out from the group of players. What if Mamá was here among them, working off her debt? Her heart drummed as she gazed all around in search of bouncing, light brown curls and the kind smile she had missed for much too long.
“What on earth is she doing?” Senora Montoya scoffed. “A young lady should know how to compose herself.”
Lo whirled around, ready to snap, but the grimace on Mayté’s face silenced her. “I … I’m not doing anything,” she muttered and, as she moved further into the center of the room, nearly ran into someone.
“Easy now, senorita.” A young man steadied her by the shoulders.
His dark suit was much more extravagant than the rest of the croupiers’.
His jacket had purple accents and golden buckles, which matched his shoes and gloves.
He also didn’t have his face painted, but he didn’t need it—his skin was ghostly pale.
His black hair was slicked back into a low ponytail, and he had the most piercing blue eyes.
Those blue eyes traveled down to her slip dress.
Lo could have tried to cover up but didn’t.
“Ah, yes.” Misterioso took a step toward the man.
“This is our Banker; he will oversee all the games.” The two men were opposites.
While Misterioso was bright and cheerful like a dancing skeleton, the Banker seemed dark and sinister like La Muerte.
He couldn’t have been much older than Carlos, yet here he was in a position of power. Interesting …
“A pleasure,” the Banker said, his voice cool.
“I look forward to watching the games unfold.” He briefly gazed at the other players, but then returned his attention to Lo.
The way he stared, surely he was enamored with her.
“And it is especially a pleasure to meet a contestant as beautiful as yourself. What is your name?”
“Lorena de León.”
“Welcome to Fortune’s Kiss, Lorena.” He took her hand and kissed it.
“Oh my, how the time has passed,” Misterioso interjected, pulling a chained hourglass out of his pocket. Filled with black sand, the gold-trimmed glass barely fit in the palm of his hand. “Please have a seat and we’ll get started.”
As everyone sat at the circular table, the candelabras changed color from orange to pink, then to an eerie blue.
The other croupiers’ expectant gazes burned through Lo.
A feeling she was all too familiar with.
Her father had always paraded her around at parties, like a beautiful toy made for others to admire, but now, under so many eyes, it felt like she had been unveiled to the world.
“Come on.” She took Mayté by the arm and led her to the table.
She sat directly across from the Banker.