Imprisoned Gods - G. Bailey Page 0,61
shining like flames in the light of the wall sconces, his crooked smile enough to send chills down my spine, in spite of my best efforts. “Now, why are you here, little Karma? What did you do?”
I raise my eyebrows. So he hasn’t heard. Then again, maybe he has, and he just wants to hear it from me.
I clear my throat, feeling suddenly awkward under his knowing gaze. “Did you just call me little again? I’m short, not little, and that is super offensive.” Hopefully that’s enough of a misdirection for now. Somehow, I don’t feel comfortable confessing my crime to this guy. He makes me feel vulnerable somehow… exposed, and the one thing I hate more than anything is feeling exposed. I wish I had heels on so I could at least reach up and sock this god’s chin. Or just throw my heels at him and hope for the best.
“Says the girl that just called me an asshole,” he smoothly replies.
“Touché,” I mutter. He has me there.
"Storm,” comes an unfamiliar voice ahead of us, “we should get on with the next test. Everyone is waiting, and the justice gods are starting to squirm." I peer into the shadows ahead to see a young guy with dark skin, black eyes, and short grey hair. There’s a cheeky grin on his face as he says this last part, and he crosses his arms as he comes to stand by our side, giving me a passing glance as he does so. "You must be Karma,” he says, extending a hand to me. “I'm Coxen." I reach out to shake his hand, a little surprised by the friendliness, when Storm smoothly moves between us, blocking my view of Coxen so I can only see Storm’s back.
"Hey, that's rude," I protest, narrowly resisting the urge to smack his back. I decide that sidestepping him is the better option, and put my hands on my hips as I watch Storm lean down and murmur something to Coxen, his eyes flashing. I don't think touching Storm would be good for me, and not just because he’s clearly strong enough to rip my head right off my body. Nope, it's bad enough that he looks good enough to lick. I don't catch everything Storm whispers, but damn does Coxen look nervous when he pulls back.
"Coxen is going to show you to your new home,” Storm announces, taking a step back and giving the other man a curt nod. “I will come and find you later." He hesitates for a moment, looking as if he’s going to say something else, but remains silent and starts to walk off.
"Wait!" I shout at his back. He doesn’t even turn around, his posture casual as he continues to walk back to the bridge. It pisses me off to have him ignoring me like this. "You didn't give me my bag back!" I protest, thinking about Kit and my peanut butter. At this point, those are practically the only things keeping me from losing my mind in here.
"I sent it to your room,” Storm shouts back, not looking back at me. “You can thank me later!" That’s all he says before a crowd of people gathers behind him, obscuring him from view as they follow him back to the bridge. He’s really got the people around here wrapped around his finger, that’s for sure.
"He really thinks he is all that, doesn't he?" I ask, turning to Coxen, who sheepishly shrugs.
"Come on, it's one hell of a walk to your home," he tells me, nodding his head towards the back of the ledge. In the dim light, I can make out a set of stone stairs leading both up to the higher levels and down into the bowels of the building. All I can hope is that my new quarters aren’t further down; it’s claustrophobic enough in here, as it is. Coxen begins to walk up the steps, putting his hands behind his back in an overly-professional way, and I have no choice but to follow him. I shiver from the cold as we go, feeling a chilly draft sweep over me from somewhere further up ahead. The fact that I’m soaking wet doesn’t help either, and I decide that the first thing I’m going to do once I’ve settled in will be to change my clothes. A shower would be nice, too, but I’m not getting my hopes up.
I square my shoulders and begin to climb up the steps after Coxen,