Fire & Flood (Mythverse #1)

Book 4 Chapter 4

4

BJ sits down in the sand, not caring anymore that she’s wet. I join her in the sand, the warmth of it pressing through my clothes.

“These waves,” BJ says, sniffing. “They roll in endlessly, one after another. Big then small then big again. It reminds me of my problems. One after another crashing on top of me. And here comes another: some god maybe wants to kill me. That seems like the type of wave big enough to carry me away for good.”

I take her hand. “Brandee Jean, it’s overwhelming. I know.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“My adopted father was killed by a rogue wave the size of a five-story building,” I tell her. “It was actually a monster, I later found out. That was the beginning of it. When my life went from normal to… not normal at all.”

BJ sniffs and rubs her nose. “I know this is meant to be comforting, but now all I can think about is my mama. And how she died. Did your father jump into the wave because he saw it was hopeless? Did he tell you good luck carrying on without him?”

“No! Gods. He would never—” I abruptly stop, realizing I stuck my foot in it.

“Yeah,” BJ nods. “My mama killed herself. After I got my powers she kept making all these comments ’bout how I didn’t need her no more. Guess I shoulda seen it coming…”

I put my arm around her shoulder. “Brandee Jean, I’m sorry about your mother. My adopted mom left me in a similar way, so I do understand.”

She leans into me a little, needing the comfort of another human body. Someone else nearby to make her feel a little bit less alone. I know what it’s like.

She sniffs again. “After Mama died I made friends with another girl I met while scavenging. Shauna and I got real close, real fast. Fighting for survival will do that.”

“Listen,” I say, “Don’t let this whole plane incident throw you off your game. It might’ve just been a spat between the gods or one of them playing a joke. That’s why the competition is so important; with no Zeus, there’s no order. But I think you could be the person who sets things right.”

“Well,” she pushes her wet hair away from her face. “I was thinking earlier how it’d be nice having the power to send a bolt of lightning into anyone who wears socks with sandals. Just a little zap, you know? A warning, really, to make ’em treat their feet better.”

“I really hope you’re joking,” I say, even though I’m pretty sure she’s serious. I don’t think fashion is a joking matter for her. Reaching down, I help her to her feet.

She turns away from the ocean to take a good look at the rest of the island. “Okay, so where is this academy?”

I point above us. On a hill overlooking the ocean is the Academy. There’s a building that looks like the White House, all pillars and stone.

“I don’t suppose you can fly me up there?” she asks.

I shake my head. “No, but it’s a nice hike.”

She sighs and opens her suitcase. Amazingly, the clothes inside are mostly dry.

“Lead the way,” she says after changing into yoga pants, a tank, and some sneakers. “But set a ‘walking and talking’ pace, because girl, I’ve got questions.”

As we trudge up the mountain together, she makes sure to get all the questions out.

“Do I have to wear a school uniform? Is that uniform leather? Does anyone on campus struggle with chafing? Can I still wear my tiara?”

“Seriously,” I say, pushing sweaty hair out of my face. “You’re competing to become the next ruler of the gods and these are your questions?”

We come to a full stop on the trail, pebbles rolling out from under my shoes. “Don’t underestimate chafing,” BJ tells me. “Chafing can be the difference between a crown and a handful of roses that wither in a week.”

“Okay, fine,” I say, continuing the climb. “At sss Academy, yes, there is a uniform. I don’t know how strict Athena is with the dress code, but I’m guessing you’ll be wearing some form of uniform. You know, the usual plaid skirt, white shirt, and knee socks type deal.”

“Porny,” she sniffs.

“At least to classes,” I say.

She stops again. “Um, what now?”

“Classes.” I keep going, not looking back. “Athena offered up sss Academy as the proving ground for the next ruler of the gods. But it came under the condition that all of the contestants must also attend sss classes. Which really is not a bad idea. The Amazons can be brutal, but they are also loyal and trustworthy. Everyone wants the next ruler of the gods to be fair-minded. Athena can help ensure that’s the case by having them train as an sss would.”

“Uh-huh. So I’m going to be like an honorary sss?”

“Kind of,” I say hesitantly. “But I definitely wouldn’t say that out loud. Amazons are incredibly proud women. The application process to attend sss Academy is grueling. Only a very select group makes it in. I’m guessing the students aren’t going to be thrilled that the contenders are on campus.”

“Right, so it’s like I got a free ride to an Ivy League college, but I didn’t actually earn it?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” I agree.

“Only it’s not a bunch of future lawyers and doctors that are pissed at me, it’s girls with anger issues?”

“Um…That’s not absolutely accurate. You might want to self-filter your thoughts before you say them out loud,” I tell her, just as we clear the edge of the cliff. “Or you might end up with highly skilled ‘angry girl’ enemies.”

The campus rolls out in front of us, the white marble pillars of the buildings blinding in the sun.

“Wow, whoever decorated this place was super into statues,” BJ says. “There’s at least ten in every direction I look. At least there’s lots of flowers and ivy climbing up the sides of buildings. The green is comforting, reminds me of home. Well, in the summer at least.”

BJ follows my lead as we walk onto campus, her mouth still running a mile a minute.

“Once we went to Vegas for a pageant conference and Mama fell in love with the whole strip. Said it was surely the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Then, at the airport on the way home, I heard two ladies talking about how tacky the same hotel we’d stayed at was. The lights. The glitz. The fountain show set to music. Mama and I thought that was high class, but they called it ‘culture for the culture-less.’ I think Mama heard ’em too, ’cause she started talking real loud about this male stripper show she went to. Sometimes when people made Mama feel like trash, she got determined to show ’em just how trashy she could really be.”

“Uh-huh,” I say.

“So anyway,” BJ goes on, “Which building is—” Then there’s a loud c***k from above. And something falls from the sky, landing on my mentee. She catches it…er, him in both arms. Or tries to, but he’s squirmy.

“Hey! Watch the hands,” BJ shouts. “They’re going places that Brandee Jean doesn’t allow just anyone to touch. Not without a third date, a good dinner, and some flowers, anyway.”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” the boy says in a charming English accent as he jumps off her. His face is bright red and there are sticks in his hair.

“Let me—” He reaches toward where most of her sports b*a is showing above her shirt’s stretched out neckline. “Worry not, my lady. I am a master clothing adjuster.” Despite his hulking size, there’s a litheness in his movements. Carefully pinching the seams at her shoulders, he gets her shirt back into position.

“You got a nice ’n gentle touch, that’s for sure,” Brandee says, her years of whitening toothpaste use on full display.

“Ah, as a master clothing adjuster, I must be an expert in all the ways of touching. For clothing adjustment purposes only, of course.” His eyes twinkle and I’m pretty sure there’s some chemistry I feel sizzling between them, which is not a great idea if this guy is who I think he is.

The boy steps away, still not breaking eye contact with BJ. “And there we are. Again, my most sincere apologies.” He does this courtly sort of bow. Then, grinning, he turns his attention to me. “I haven’t quite mastered this teleportation thing yet.”

“Tele-pa-wha-wha?” BJ asks.

“Instant travel,” I explain to her. “Inherited from Zeus. My guess is there was a big storm and you were struck by lightning?”

“Yes! And then I could teleport!” he says. “It’s not easy. I accidentally sent myself into the New York City sewer system yesterday.”

“Ugh,” BJ wrinkles her nose. “I hope you telepore-tated straight to a bubble bath right after.”

“Teleported,” I correct her, and she repeats it.

“Elocution is very important in the pageant world,” she says. Then turns back to the boy.

“With the sticks out of your hair, you’re not half bad. In fact, I’d say you’re a Wisconsin 10, which translates as a 7 on the east coast. Your cheeky quality could easily bump you up a whole number higher. But I’ll stick with seven. It’s always been my lucky number. I’m Brandee Jean,” she says, holding out her hand. She’s got her hips c****d, one shoulder dropped, neck slightly tilted so that her hair is falling just right, fanning slightly in the breeze.

“Alaric,” he says, shaking her hand. “My friends call me Rick. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Dreadfully sorry about…” His eyes flick down to her cleavage, then back up to her face. “Everything,” he finishes cutely.

“Not your fault,” she says, resting her hand on his shoulder. “Teleporting sounds really difficult.”

“Brandee Jean,” I say, and grab her hand, pulling her away from Alaric and into the shade of the tree. “You realize he’s your competitor, right?”

“Competitor for my heart,” she shoots back, glancing over her shoulder as Alaric lifts his T-shirt to wipe sweat from his face. He’s got a six-pack. Wait no…my eyes drift downward. Make that an eight-pack.

“Brandee!” I squeeze her wrist, trying to get her attention off him. And honestly, mine too. “How do you think you win at sss Academy?”

“By being the best, duh,” she says.

“No,” I shake my head. “You win by being alive. I don’t care how hot Alaric is. He may try to kill you.”

“Shut the front door,”she says. “People are gonna get killed? Um, I was joking when I said that Hunger Games thing earlier. I don’t even like that movie except for the fashion, which was amazing.” She turns on one heel and heads back down the cliff path. “Nope, no, nah ah. Not playing murder games.”

As she passes Alaric he looks really confused. “Um, my mentor said that killing was a possibility, not a requirement.”

She stops and turns back to me, arms crossed. “Well? How possible is it that getting dead will be a part of this?”

“It’s dangerous,” I tell her. “People will get hurt and people may die. And I don’t like it any more than you do.” I eye Alaric. “Can you, you know, leave us alone?”

“Oh. Right. Sure.” He gives BJ a wink and then saunters away.

“The fate of the world rests in your hands,” I tell BJ.

“I know, but I haven’t had a decent manicure in weeks.”

“Brandee, this is serious.”

She shakes her head. “I’m not a wimp. You can’t win a pageant crown and be a wimp. I just don’t want to actually kill anyone.”

“Yeah, I’ve been there with the whole not wanting to kill thing, so I get it. Really, I do. But well, sometimes killing is not something you want to do, but something you have to do. If you get to that point…well, just know, whatever you do, I’ll be here for you.”

“Like, whatever I do?” She asks, eyes narrowing. “If I skinned a dog and ate it, you’d be like, totally cool with that?”

I consider for a moment. “Yes, but no cats. My sister would kill me.”

“You’re too much. I really hope there’s no eating weird things test,” she tells me, and I can’t help smiling back at her. She stays looking happy right up until the moment when I sprout my wings.

“Um, where you going?” She asks. “Don’t we have work to do?”

“You have work to do,” I say. “I’m your mentor, but I’m only allowed intermittent contact. I’ll be in touch throughout the competition, but I can’t be by your side constantly.”

“And why the hell not?” She asks, grabbing my wrist and jerking me back down to the ground as I try to ascend. “You’re my coach. You’re supposed to eat, breathe, and sleep the competition. Besides, you’re the one that got me into this mess!”

I pop a talon and give her hand a little slice, forcing her to let go. “No,” I say as I rise into the air. “Zeus is the one that got you into this mess. And the only way out is to take his place. Or lose.”

“Brandee Jean Mason doesn’t lose!” She screams up into the sky.

“Good,” I shout back. “Then get your a*s to the assembly before you’re disqualified.” I point to a white building with pillars and a dome on top.

“But I’m still wearing my yoga pants! Mama always said that confidence is half the battle. The other half is having a tight a*s!”

“Then those pants are perfect!” I yell. I watch from a distance as Brandee unzips her bag and yanks a brush through her hair. Then she tucks it behind her ears before carefully placing a tiara on her head. Instantly, her shoulders go back and her chin rises high.

My heart gives a little squeeze of pride and I realize that Brandee Jean has already grown on me. More than that, though, I’m happy with my choice.

The other mentors wanted to pick a winner. But I wanted someone who was the opposite of all the Zee was. Selfish. Cold. Hardhearted.

Brandee Jean, on the other hand, is all heart.

Now I just have to hope that BJ and her heart survives whatever the gods decide to throw at her.

Part II

Brandee Jean