Insatiable (Inferno Games #3)

2. Jazz Hands

2

JAZZ HANDS

ROWENA

M y Hell Cell has been blowing up for hours and at least two people have hammered on my door, but I can’t bring myself to drag myself out of bed.

I don’t want to see anyone.

I don’t want to see him...

The look of pure terror on Felix’s face as everything turned to black when we left Lust is more than enough to tell me what he thinks of our situation. My situation, because there’s no way in literal Hell I’m letting him be a part of this.

This... I can’t even begin to think of it as what it is. A pregnancy. Half of me wishes Noémi was blustering and it was her huge final joke, but the other half is terrified that she’s wrong. It’s a miracle I never thought possible and now that it’s happening, I’ve never been more scared in my life. Not even when a thug twice my size threatened to kill me, then actually went through with his threats.

“Ro, Girl. Come out. Quinn and I are in fits, worried about you.”

I ignore Juliette’s imploring plea from the other side of my door and take in a deep breath, closing my eyes and running my hand over my flat belly for the thousandth time this morning.

“The leader of Gluttony is waiting,” Quinn shouts, “but he says he won’t wait more than five minutes. If you don’t get down there now, he’s going to tell Hades and you’ll be out of the games.”

I rub my face, then haul my feet to the floor. Opening the door, I find Juliette and Quinn staring at me expectantly.

“Thank fuck, I thought we were going to have to break the door down and drag you out,” Juliette quips, before adding, “You look like shit!” She ushers me inside my room to my walk-in wardrobe and pulls out a flowery dress that I made a literal lifetime ago.

“We got our own clothes back?” I murmur, taking the dress from her hands. In the last circle, our outfits barely covered anything. I’m still stuck in the skimpy Moulin Rouge costume I threw together for the ball. Now, staring at my reflection—ripped stockings, hair a tangled mess—I feel a wave of nausea. What was I even thinking?

I know what I was thinking, and it was insanity. I just don’t want to admit it to myself. I was trying to impress Felix... or show him I was worth something... that I could be beautiful. Oh god. What am I doing?

A wrinkle appears between Juliette’s eyebrows at my expression. “Just go in the bathroom and put it on and for all that is holy, run a brush through your hair, Ro. I’m starving and can you smell that delicious breakfast? Bacon, eggs, pancakes.” She closes her eyes and inhales, her face a picture of bliss. “Gluttony! Can you imagine what the food is going to be like here?”

I sniff the air, but all I can smell is donuts over the lingering odor of sulfur before I quickly have to swallow to stop myself retching.

Quinn helps me into the dress, apparently in a rush. I suspect I’m not the only one risking my place in the games with my tardiness. They are risking it by coming to fetch me. “I know you’ll want to talk about the... you know, but we have to make this meeting. Afterwards, come to my room and we’ll talk properly.

I spin round to face her. “I don’t think I can face seeing him,” I admit. I’ve thought of nothing but the child that may or may not be growing inside of me for hours, but with those thoughts come the image of that asshole Barclay. Literally anyone would have been a better choice to impregnate me than him. One of the demons in the lower levels would have been a better choice and they probably eat babies for breakfast.

Quinn links her arms in mine. “I won’t let him come near you.”

“Too fucking right!” Juliette adds, linking my other arm in hers. I manage a queasy smile. My entire death might be the most fucked up thing and my stomach is curdling, both with the stink of sugary donuts and the memories that brings, but at least I have two of the best friends at my side.

The huge stained glass windows that wrap around each of the towers now show depictions of food. The vibrant colors dance across the glass, creating a mesmerizing display of culinary delights. It’s enough to churn my stomach.

In one window, a bountiful harvest is depicted, with fruits and vegetables spilling out of baskets in a riot of color. The next window shows a lavish banquet, with tables laden with dishes of every kind, from roasted meats to decadent desserts. I glance over and notice Juliette eyeing it, her lips parting as if she can almost taste it all. But the display just stirs something uneasy in me, a sense of revulsion creeping up as I take it all in.

I don’t want to hope it's morning sickness. I can’t give myself any hope that this pregnancy isn’t just some cruel joke made up by Noémi to stick the knife in one last time before she was carted away.

I turn to Juliette. “First Lust and now Gluttony. This must be heaven to you,” I mutter.

“I can’t say the sex was particularly great in a circle that calls itself Lust, but how can they fuck up so badly with Gluttony?” she says with glee as we step onto the platform that will take us down to the lower level. “I’m going to eat so much food!”

Quinn shakes her head at her lie. Juliette was fucking Noémi’s huge bodyguards the entire last circle, and while they turned out to be gross little demons under their glamor, they were both amazingly hot before their glamor dropped. When the awful heaviness of reality recedes a bit and I feel like I can breathe, I remind myself to ask her exactly what was going on in Lust.

“We have approximately thirty seconds to get down to the meeting before they throw us out of the games and we’ll be stuck in this circle for eternity,” Quinn gripes, panic etched on her face.

Juliette takes another sniff. “If the food tastes as good as it smells, I can live with that... er, stay dead with that!”

It actually takes us a full minute and a half to join the meeting, but the four people standing at the front of the curved sofas don’t seem to mind. My eyes scan them, if only to keep my eyes away from the sofas where I know Felix will be sitting. Hades is there, his arm around Twila, who looks as gorgeous as always in a black corset dress that’s a masterpiece of lace and velvet, its dark hues contrasting against her fair skin. A crown of dark roses sits perched atop her head and her eyes are lined with kohl.

Every time I see her, I’m reminded that I can’t pull off such amazing looks as she can. I don’t have the curves she has for a start. Not yet, I remind myself, then push the thought aside as I check out the person standing next to Hades. A man I can only describe as rotund stands with a welcoming grin on his face and open arms. He’s dressed impeccably in a three-piece suit, the buttons of his jacket straining due to his vast size and a yellow stain of some description down his front. Probably mustard. He’s closer to Twila’s height and is dwarfed next to the towering Hades. In fact, he’s almost as wide as he’s tall. In his hand, he holds a leash that is tied to a huge dog. Of course, this being Hell, it’s not a normal dog. It has three effing heads, all of them slobbering saliva. I love dogs, but I still have to fight the urge not to back away slowly. At least it’s on a leash and looks somewhat calm despite all the slobber. In his other hand he holds what looks like a half eaten turkey leg. I’m not sure if it’s for the dog or him.

“Welcome contestants!” His voice booms almost jollily as he gestures to the sofas. “I think that’s all of us now. Time to begin the third round of the Inferno Games.”

Juliette almost drags me to the sofa where I sit down with a thud. The smell of donuts is even more intense down here than upstairs, and it takes me a few moments to get used to it so I don’t inadvertently throw up. My stomach doesn’t stay settled for long as my eyes finally fall on the last person in the leadership lineup.

“How the fuck is Anthura here?” Quinn whispers in my ear.

I shake my head. I’d like to say I’m surprised, but I’m not. If there was any way the conniving cow could sneak her way through, Anthura would take it. Just behind her is Moloch. I’d not seen him before because he has a habit of merging into the background.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of a massive black wing—Dade's. That’s all I need to see, because I know exactly who else is here, and I’m not ready to face him. I lock my gaze on the new leader as he steps forward to speak, determined to keep my focus anywhere but there.

“Welcome to my world!” he booms, his voice filling the massive space almost as much as he does. “My name is Gorge, but I find that humans like to call me George.” He snickers as though this is a joke. “I think my real name hits a little too close to home and that makes some people uncomfortable.” He rubs his belly, adding a grease stain from the turkey leg to the mustard, and chortles again. “What can I say about myself? I love food, but that goes without saying.” He waves the turkey leg around for good measure and two of the three dog heads follow its motion, slobbering even more. You’ll all be used to the layout of the tower because it’s much the same as the other towers and if you don’t know your way round by now, I’m afraid I can’t help you.” He grins again and beside me I hear Juliette sigh.

“Hurry up and let’s get to breakfast,” she mutters under her breath. “My stomach is eating itself here.”

George doesn’t seem to hear her as he continues. "Most of you will know Hades, and beside him is his lover, Twila. Neither are involved with the games except to watch over what I am doing with the challenges. To my left is Anthura, who half of you will know from previous circles. And this beauty…” He rubs his hand over one of the dogs heads, “is Cerby, my baby.”

I don’t know what makes my stomach lurch more. The mention of the word baby, or the massive amount of drool dribbling to the floor from all three of the dog’s heads.

“As we have people from two towers coming together in this circle,” he continues, “I think we should all take it in turn and introduce ourselves. Anthura, since many of the people here don’t know you, why don’t you start? Let's 'dish' out some introductions!"

Anthura looks like she’d rather chew wasps.

She plasters on a fake smile. “I’m Anthura from Purgatory. I’m sure many of you are wondering why I’m still here in this circle, but it’s because I love the games so much. She holds her hands up to her heart and glances over at Hades. “Isn’t that right Hades?”

Hades gives her a slight nod. I have no idea why he would let her be here, but everyone who’s ever met her knows why she’s chosen to be here. Just like the rest of us, she wants out of Hell, but unlike everyone else here, she’s cheating her way through the circles under the guise of being in leadership.

“I hope we can all become friends over the coming weeks,” she lies.

It’s nothing like the first speech I heard from her in purgatory where she called us all idiots and hoped we’d all die horrible deaths in the games, if dying is what you do when you no longer exist in Hell. Maybe she’s softened up in the last few weeks, or maybe she’s had the hard word from Hades to behave herself. Probably the latter. Anthura is as soft as a diamond pickaxe.

“I’m Moloch,” Moloch says, barely peeking past Anthura. He looks depressed to be here and I can’t say I blame him. Maybe he was told he had to come because Anthura did. Who knows? “Nice to meet you all. I’m just a helper.” He says no more, so all eyes fall on Juliette who is perched on the very edge of the sofa.

“I’m Juliette!” she announces with a confident wave, the kind that comes naturally when you’ve become famous in Lust, with hundreds of fans clamoring for your autograph. “I’m thrilled to be here because, well, I just love food.” She glances at George and gives him a playful wink. “I’m like you in that way.”

He returns her grin warmly. As always, Juliette is completely in her element. Honestly, is there anywhere she isn’t? I have yet to see it.

“I’m excited to find out what our first challenge will be, but whatever it is, I know I’m up for it.” She turns to me and I know then that I’ll have to turn to face the people on the sofas.

My heart pounds as I try to keep my eyes on their feet instead of looking at them directly. But I’d know his shoes anywhere. Designer. Shined. I shift my eyes up to the people further along the sofa and try to concentrate on the new faces instead.

Next to Felix sits a striking woman, the kind who could easily pass for a supermodel. Her platinum blonde hair cascades in soft waves down her back, shimmering under the light. Her skin is porcelain, almost too flawless, and her high cheekbones give her an ethereal quality. She’s wearing a sleek, form-fitting gown that clings to her figure, just like the women I used to see on Felix’s arm in magazines—the kind who are everything I’m not. I hate how this complete stranger is making me feel uneasy in my own skin, like I’m somehow less just by being near her. No matter what I achieve, in life or death, I’ll never be someone who looks effortlessly perfect the way she does. And the worst part? She sits there with such confidence, like she knows it, too.

Felix, on the other hand, seems unbothered, his usual calm demeanor in place. He catches my eye, his expression unreadable. I look away quickly, fixing my eyes on the man on the other side of the new woman. He’s middle-aged, with a slight paunch and the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen. He stands out from the rest of the group—aside from Orlin, he’s the only one who doesn’t appear to be in his early twenties. There’s something refreshing about his presence, a warmth that feels oddly out of place in this room full of youthful perfection.

My eyes flutter to the next person, but before I can take them in, Juliette gives me a sharp dig in the ribs. “Say something!”

“Oh, sorry. I’m Rowena,” I muster. The last time we did this, I told the whole room I wanted to be a mother. Nausea creeps up my throat at how much I gave away of myself. This time I’m going to keep it short. “I’m just happy to have the chance to be in the games. That’s all really.”

I let out a long breath as Quinn begins telling everyone about herself. She’s much more forthcoming than I am, but then again, everyone knows she’s with Dade and she has nothing shameful to hide. Everyone from our tower knows I’m pregnant thanks to Noémi’s outburst as she was dragged from the last circle for sabotaging the games. The rest of the people here don’t know and no one except Quinn and Juliette knows who the father is... And Felix. He knows.

I’m so caught up in the horror of everything I barely register who speaks after Quinn and it’s only when I hear Felix speak that I come back to the present. My throat tightens as he introduces himself. He sounds so cocksure of himself as he lists his accomplishments in the living world, such as he was Times man of the year. None of that means anything down here. Death is the great equalizer. But not even Hell can equalize how unfairly attractive he is or the exact timbre of his voice that can both make me shake in fury and send me into a puddle of lust... and want to throw up as he’s doing now. I press my hand over my mouth, taking a deep breath in an attempt to push the nausea down. It doesn’t really help, and by the time I’ve managed to collect myself, the beautiful blonde has started speaking. My eyes drift to Felix as she introduces herself. He’s watching her, but to my surprise, his expression is one of bored indifference.

“Hi. I’m Tate,” she says with a confident smile that brightens her whole face, revealing two dimples in her cheeks. “I won my spot in the games from Lust. When I was alive, I worked in the oldest profession. I’m hoping to get back to Earth... I died way too young. One of my clients had a thing for strangulation, and, well, I guess he went too far.”

Her tone is disturbingly nonchalant, as if she’s simply reciting a fact of life. I shrivel my nose. I don’t want to hear about women being murdered. It cuts way too close to home. Next to her, the older man stands and gives everyone a brief nod. Beside me, Juliette stiffens.

“I’m Tomas,” he introduces himself, his voice carrying a faint Southern accent. “I hail from Florida, but I share the same origins as the alluring Tate - Lust. That’s what brought me to the Inferno Games - a search for something more, something elusive that I’ve finally found.”

He glances in our direction, causing Juliette to instinctively lean back and partially shield herself from his gaze. Then it’s on to the next person, but my mind drifts away from their introductions. I can’t bear to hear any more fabricated stories or half-truths. We’re not here to become friends; the Games will make sure of that.

My relief is palpable when Dade speaks up, signaling that he’s the last one and this charade can be over. As expected, Dade says very little beyond introducing himself. It’s only then that I realize Remy and Candice are no longer with us. They didn’t get through. I didn’t care for either of them, but it’s still a shock to see that they aren’t here. It’s a gutting reminder that any one of us could not get through to the next circle and be stuck in Hell forever.

My gaze shifts back to George, who’s watching us with a predatory grin, his eyes gleaming with a hunger that makes my skin crawl. There’s no doubt in my mind—if we fail here, we could very well end up on his dinner plate. Despite the jolly act he’s putting on, I can sense the dark undertones beneath his cheerful exterior. He probably has something twisted and horrifying planned for us.

“It’s going to be wonderful!” George announces, practically beaming with excitement. “I’ll let you all get settled in, and by this time next week, we’ll announce the first trial.”

“Next week?” Dade cuts in, raising an eyebrow. “They usually reveal it sooner.”

George strides over to him, clapping him on the shoulder in what seems like a friendly gesture. But I can see Dade stiffen, his discomfort evident despite his stoic expression. Being touched by a demon would unsettle anyone, but Dade’s always been one to keep people—especially creatures like George—at arm’s length. He was never the type to make friends.

“I want you all to truly understand what it means to be part of my ‘home’ first,” George explains with a sly smile. “Besides, Anthura and Moloch were unexpected additions to the team, so I’d like them to be fully informed before we embark on the three challenges. Let’s ensure everyone is well-fed with information before moving forward.”

As soon as it's clear that the meeting is over, Juliette practically drags me up from the sofa as Quinn rushes over to speak with Dade, leaving us alone for a brief moment.

I turn away, trying not to look, but the sight of them still lingers in my mind. Quinn and her… laughing, leaning into each other, completely lost in their own world, like nothing else exists. It hurts more than I want to admit, a brutal reminder that some people get to find “the one”—they get to feel that kind of happiness. And I know I’ll never have it. Not in the way they do.

I’m happy for Quinn, really, I am, but every glance, every smile between them cuts deeper, showing me how pathetic my own situation is. I’ve wound up here, wrapped in this mess, hoping for something I know I can’t have. It’s pitiful, a sad reminder that whatever it is I’m chasing doesn’t come with a happy ending. And watching them, seeing what I’ll never get? It just reminds me how empty I am. How empty I’ll always be. I don’t want to look anywhere else either, so I turn to Juliette. I was expecting an expression of thorough excitement on her face owing to the fact it's breakfast time and the only thing she likes more than breakfast is cock, but she looks strangely subdued.

“Let’s go get breakfast,” she says, her face lighting up a bit at the mention of her favorite meal. “I can’t wait to see what smells so good.”

My own enthusiasm doesn’t quite match hers. The nausea gnaws at me, but maybe food will help. We weave through the group as they disperse, heading toward the dining area. Just as we round the back of the sofas, someone steps into our path. My stomach lurches for a different reason this time, sinking when I see who it is—Felix. As always, he looks infuriatingly perfect, like he’s been sculpted by the gods themselves—impossibly handsome, every inch of him put together like some kind of untouchable deity. No flaws at all. Well, except for his disgusting personality. Let's not forget the transphobia, the bullying, and the fact that he’s a complete and utter asshole. Oh, and the father of my unborn child. How could I forget that? “What do you want, Felix?” I snap, unable to keep the irritation from my voice. The effort to keep cool feels like it’s draining every ounce of energy I have left.

He stares at me like I’ve just asked the most ridiculous question in the world. And maybe I have. It’s obvious what he wants. Now that I’m pregnant with his child, he has even more ammunition to torment me with. My stomach tightens as I brace for his usual cruelty.

“I want to talk to you... about...” His gaze shifts down to my stomach. Instinctively, I cover it with my hands, as if that could somehow shield me from his scrutiny.

"Sure, but can we make it a musical? I’ve been practicing my jazz hands!" I blurt out. Kill me now. Even at a time like this, I can’t seem to get over my habit of using stupid humor to deflect.

Felix looks at me like I’ve gone completely insane, and maybe I have. Speaking to him used to be so easy, even fun in a twisted way. He’d call me a gross slur, I’d insult his intelligence, and then we’d walk away feeling like we’d both won some kind of strange battle. But it stopped being funny after... after we slept together. And apparently, I’ve stopped being funny too.

“I think we should talk about this,” Felix presses. “Is it?—”

“Stop right there!” Juliette commands, stepping in front of me with a hand raised, her voice sharp enough to cut the tension. Relief floods me. He was about to ask if the baby was his, and I’ve never been more grateful for Juliette’s impeccable timing. “She said she didn’t want to talk to you, so take a hike. We’re going for breakfast.”

Felix’s jaw tightens, a muscle ticking as he tries to hold back whatever insult is on the tip of his tongue. “Actually, she said she’d talk to me, just in a fucking weird way. I just want to ask her something.”

“I’m right here, Barclay,” I snap, my frustration boiling over. “Stop talking about me like I’m not standing two feet away. I’m telling you I don’t have anything to say, and I’m not answering any of your questions.”

“But—”

“You heard the lady.” A black blur cuts between us as Dade steps in, his massive wings flaring like a shield. Dade never gave a damn about anyone but himself—and maybe Quinn—before this moment, but I’m not about to question it. Not when I’ve never been more grateful for the interference. His wingspan blocks Felix completely, and without a word, Juliette and I take the opportunity to slip past.

We’re halfway down the hall before Felix even realizes we’re gone.