L. J. Smith - Forbidden Game 99, page 1
Forbidden Game 1 - The Hunter - L J Smith
it had been one of those weeks. Summer’s fourteen-year-old schnauzer hadfinally had to be put to
sleep, and Summer had needed Jenny for moral support.
Dee had taken a kung fu exam, and Jenny had gone to cheer her on. Audrey andMichael had had a fight, and Zach had had the flu….
And then suddenly it had been Friday afternoon, with just hours to go beforethe party and everyone
expecting something special-and nothing set up.
Fortunately an idea had come to her in the middle of computer applicationsclass. A game. People gave murder mystery parties and Pictionary parties andthings like that. Why not a game tonight? It would have to be a very specialgame, of course. Something chic enough for Audrey, sexy enough for Tom,
andeven scary, if possible, to keep Dee’s interest. Something seven people couldplay at once.
Vague notions had run through Jenny’s head of the only really exciting gamesshe’d ever played as a
child. Not the ones the adults arranged, but the kindyou devised on your own once they were safely out of the house. Truth or dareand spin the bottle. Some combination of those two-only more sophisticated, ofcourse, more suited to juniors in high school-would be ideal.
That was what had brought her to Eastman Avenue. She’d known perfectly well itwasn’t the best
neighborhood, but she’d figured that at least none of herfriends would see her and find out about this lastminute scramble for entertainment. Jenny had gotten herself into this mess; she would get herselfout of it.
Only now the mess was getting bigger than she’d bargained for.
She could definitely hear footsteps now. They sounded very close and wereapproaching quickly.
Jenny looked down Montevideo again, her mind taking in irrelevant details withobsessive precision. The record store wall was not truly blank after all.
There was a mural on it, a mural of a street that looked much like EastmanAvenue before the riots.
Strange-parts of the mural looked real. Like thatstorefront painted in the middle, the one with the sign Jenny couldn’t quitemake out. It had a door that looked real: The handle seemed three dimensional.
In fact…
Startled, Jenny took a step toward it. The knob appeared to change shape asshe moved, like any three-dimensional object. She looked more closely andfound she could see the difference in texture between the wooden door and the painted concrete wall.
The door was real.
It couldn’t be-but it was. There was a door stuck in the middle of the mural.
Why, Jenny didn’t know. There wasn’t time to wonder about it. Jenny needed toget off the street, and if this door was unlocked …
Impulsively she took hold of the knob.
It was cool as china and it turned in her hand. The door swung inward. Jennycould see a dimly lit room.
One instant of hesitation, then she stepped inside.
Just as she did, she consciously took in the sign above the door. It read:
“More Games.”
I here was a push-button lock on the inside doorknob, and Jenny depressed it.
There were no windows looking out on Montevideo, of course, so she couldn’tsee whether the two guys
had followed her. Still, she had a tremendous feelingof relief. No one was going to find her in here.
Then she thought, More Games? She had often seen signs reading “More Books” inthe arty, shabby used bookstores around here, signs with an arrow pointing upa narrow staircase to another floor. But how could there be More Games when
there hadn’t been any games at all yet?
Just the fact that it happened to be a game store she’d stumbled onto wasstrange, but very convenient.
She could do her shopping while she waited forthe tough guys to go away. The owner would probably
be glad to have her; withthat mural camouflaging the door they couldn’t do much business here.
As she looked around she saw just how strange the store really was. Evenstranger than the usual odd
shops around Eastman Avenue.
The room was lit by one small window and several old-fashioned lamps withstained-glass shades. There were shelves and tables and racks like any otherstore, but the objects on them were so exotic that Jenny felt as if she’dstepped into another world. Were they all games? They couldn’t be. Jenny’smind filled suddenly with wild images from The Arabian Nights, images offoreign bazaars where anything-anything-might be sold. She stared around atthe shelves in amazement.
God, what a weird chessboard. Triangular. Could anybody really play on a boardlike that? And there was another one, with strange, squat chessmen carved ofrock crystal. It looked more than antique -it looked positively ancient.
So did a metalwork box covered with arabesques and inscriptions. It was madeof brass or maybe
bronze, decorated with gold and silver and Arabic writing.
Whatever was in that box, Jenny knew she couldn’t afford it.
Some of the games she could identify, like the mahogany mah-jongg table withivory tiles spilled
carelessly on the green felt top. Others, like a narrowenameled case crawling with hieroglyphics, and a red box embossed with a goldStar of David in a circle, she had never seen before. There were dice of everysize and description: some twelve-sided, some shaped like pyramids, and someordinary cubical ones made of odd materials. There were card decksfantastically colored like illuminated manuscripts.
Strangest of all, the weird antique things were intermixed with weirdultramodern things. A cork bulletin board on the back wall sported signsreading: “Flame.” “Rant.” “Rave.” “Surf the Edge.” “Cheap Thrills.”
Cyberpunk,
Jenny thought, vaguely recognizing the terms. Maybe they sold computer gameshere, too. From a boom
box on the counter came 120-beat-a-minute acid housemusic.
This, thought Jenny, is a very peculiar place.
It felt so-cut off-from everything outside. As if time didn’t exist here, orran differently somehow. Even the dusty sunlight slanting in that one windowseemed wrong. Jenny would have sworn the light should have been coming fromthe other direction. A chill went through her.
You’re mixed up, she told herself. Disoriented. And no wonder, after the dayyou’ve had-after the week you’ve had. Just concentrate on finding a game, ifthere’s anything here that you can actually play.
There was another sign on the board, a sort of square:
The room was lit by one small window and several old-fashioned lamps withstained-glass shades. There were shelves and tables and racks like any otherstore, but the objects on them were so exotic that Jenny felt as if she’dstepped into another world. Were they all games? They couldn’t be. Jenny’smind filled suddenly with wild images from The Arabian Nights, images offoreign bazaars where anything-anything-might be sold. She stared around atthe shelves in amazement.
God, what a weird chessboard. Triangular. Could anybody really play on a boardlike that? And there was another one, with strange, squat chessmen carved ofrock crystal. It looked more than antique -it looked positively ancient.
So did a metalwork box covered with arabesques and inscriptions. It was madeof brass or maybe
bronze, decorated with gold and silver and Arabic writing.
Whatever was in that box, Jenny knew she couldn’t afford it.
Some of the games she could identify, like the mahogany mah-jongg table withivory tiles spilled
carelessly on the green felt top. Others, like a narrowenameled case crawling with hieroglyphics, and a red box embossed with a goldStar of David in a circle, she had never seen before. There were dice of everysize and description: some twelve-sided, some shaped like pyramids, and someordinary cubical ones made of odd materials. There were card decksfantastically colored like illuminated manuscripts.
Strangest of all, the weird antique things were intermixed with weirdultramodern things. A cork bulletin board on the back wall sported signsreading: “Flame.” “Rant.” “Rave.” “Surf the Edge.” “Cheap Thrills.”
Cyberpunk,
Jenny thought, vaguely recognizing the terms. Maybe they sold computer gameshere, too. From a boom
box on the counter came 120-beat-a-minute acid housemusic.
This, thought Jenny, is a very peculiar place.
It felt so-cut off-from everything outside. As if time didn’t exist here, orran differently somehow. Even the dusty sunlight slanting in that one windowseemed wrong. Jenny would have sworn the light should have been coming fromthe other direction. A chill went through her.
You’re mixed up, she told herself. Disoriented. And no wonder, after the dayyou’ve had-after the week you’ve had. Just concentrate on finding a game, ifthere’s anything here that you can actually play.
There was another sign on the board, a sort of square:
E L C
O M E T
O M Y W
O R L D
Jenny tilted her head, examining it. What did the letters say? Oh, of course,
she had it now. Welcome…
“Can I help you?”
The voice spoke from right behind her. Jenny turned-and lost her breath.
Eyes. Blue eyes. Except that they weren’t just blue, they were a shade Jennycouldn’t describe. The only place she’d seen a blue like that was once whenshe’d happened to wake up at the precise instant of dawn. Then, between thew
hadlasted only a second before fading to the ordinary blue of the sky.
No boy should have eyes as blue as that, and especially not surrounded bylashes so heavy they seemed to weigh his eyelids down. This boy had the moststartling coloring she’d ever seen. His eyelashes were black, but his hair waswhite-true white, the color of frost or tendrils of mist. He was … well, beautiful. But in the most exotic, uncanny way imaginable, as if he’d juststepped in from another world.
Jenny’s reaction was instant, total, andabsolutely terrifying. She forgot Tom’s existence.
I didn’t know people could look like that. Real people, I mean. Maybe he’s notreal. God, I’ve got to stop staring-But she couldn’t. She couldn’t help herself. Those eyes were like the blue atthe core of a flame. No-like a mile-deep lake set in a glacier. No …
The guy turned and went to the counter. The boom box clicked off. Silence
roared in Jenny’s ears.
“Can I help you?” he repeated, politely and indifferently.
Heat rose to Jenny’s cheeks.
Ohmigod, what he must think of me.
The moment those eyes had turned away from her, she had come out of it, andnow that he was farther
away, she could look at him objectively. Not somethingfrom another world. Just a guy about her own
age: lean, elegant, and with anunmistakable air of danger about him. His hair was white-blond, cropped closeat the sides, long in back and so long over the forehead that it fell into hiseyes. He was dressed all in black in a weird combination of cyberpunk andByronic poet.
And he’s still gorgeous, Jenny thought, but who cares? Honestly, you’d thinkI’d never seen a guy before.
On Tom’s birthday, too—
A flash of shame went through her. She’d better start her shopping or get outof here. The two
alternatives seemed equally attractive-except that the toughguys might still be outside.
“I want to buy a game,” she said, too loudly. “For a party-for my boyfriend.”
He didn’t even blink at the word boyfriend; in fact, he looked more laconicthan ever. “Be my guest,” he said. Then he seemed to rouse himself to make asale. “Anything in particular?”
“Well…”
“How about Senet, the Egyptian Game of the Dead?” he said, nodding at theenameled case with the hieroglyphics. “Or the I-ching? Or maybe you’d like tocast the runes.” He picked up a leather cup and shook it suggestively. Therewas a sound like rattling bones.
“No, nothing like that.” Jenny was feeling distinctly unnerved. She couldn’tput her finger on it, but something about this guy sent whispers of alarmthrough her blood. Maybe it was time to go.
“Well-there’s always the ancient Tibetan game of goats and tigers.” Hegestured at a curiously carved bronze board with tiny figurines on it. “Thefierce tigers, see, stalk the innocent little goats, and the innocent littlegoats try to run from the tigers. For two players.”
“I-no.” Was he making fun of her? There was something to the twist of hismouth that made Jenny think yes. With dignity she said, “I was lookingfor-just a game that a lot of people can play at once. Like Pictionary orOutburst,” she added defiantly. “But since you don’t seem to have anythinglike that in the store-“
“I see,” he said. “That kind of game.” Suddenly, looking at her sideways, hesmiled. The smile unnerved Jenny more than anything yet.
Definitely time to go, she thought. She didn’t care whether the tough guyswere still outside. “Thank you,” she said with automatic politeness, and sheturned to the door.
“Mystery,” he said. His voice caught Jenny halfway across the room. Shehesitated in spite of herself.
What on earth did he mean?
“Danger. Seduction. Fear.” Jenny turned back to face him, staring. There wassomething almost mesmerizing about his voice-it was full of elemental music, like water running over rock. “Secrets revealed. Desires unveiled.” He smiledat her and pronounced the last word distinctly: “Temptation.”
“What are you talking about?” she said, tensed to hit him or run if he tookone step toward her.
He didn’t. His eyes were as innocently blue as Nordic fjords. “The Game, ofcourse. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Something … very special.”
Something very special.
Exactly what she’d thought herself.
“I think,” she said slowly, “that I’d better-“
“We do have something like that in stock,” he said.
Now’s your chance, she told herself when hedisappeared through a door into the back room. You can
just walk out of here.
And she was going to leave, she was just about to go, when he appeared again.
“I think,” he said, “that this is what you’ve been looking for.”
She looked at what he was holding, then up at his face.
“You’ve got to be joking,” she said.
The box was about the size and shape of a Monopoly game. It was white and
glossy and there wasn’t a single word, line, or figure printed on it.
A blank white box.
Jenny waited for the punch line.
There was something about it, though. The more she looked at that box, the
more she felt…
“Could I see it?” she said. Touch it, was what she meant. For some reason she
wanted to feel the weight of it in her hands, the sharpness of its corners in
her palms. It was silly, but she did want to. She really wanted to.
The guy leaned back, tilting the box between his own hands, gazing at its
glossy top. Jenny noticed that there wasn’t a single fingerprint on the shiny
finish, not so much as a smudge. She also noticed that his fingers were long
and slender. And that he had a snake tattooed on his right wrist.
“Well…” he said. “I don’t know. On second thought, I’m not sure I can sell
it to you after all.”
“Why not?”
“Because it really is special. Un-mundane. I can’t let it go to just anybody,
or for just any reason. Maybe if you explained what it was for… .”
Why, he’s a tease, Jenny thought. Without in the least stopping being scared,
or disturbed, or any of the other things she’d been since she’d come into this
store, she started being amused as well. Wildly, inexplicably amused.
Maybe if I looked like him, was that gorgeous, I’d be a tease, too, she
thought. She said seriously, “It’s for a party tonight, for my boyfriend, Tom.
He’s seventeen today. Tomorrow night we’ll have the big party-you know, with
everybody invited, but tonight it’s just our group. Our crowd.”
He tilted his head to one side. Light flashed off the earring he was wearing-a
dagger or a snake, Jenny couldn’t tell which. “So?”
“So I need something for us to do. You can’t just get seven people in a room,
throw Doritos at them, and expect them to have a good time. I’ve screwed up
massively by not getting organized until now-no real food, no decorations. And
Tom-“
The guy tilted the box again. Jenny watched its surface turn milky, then
bright, then milky again. It was almost hypnotic. “And Tom will care?” he
said, as if not believing it.
Jenny felt defensive. “I don’t know-he might be disappointed. He deserves
better, you see,” she added quickly. “He’s-” Oh, how to explain Tom Locke?
“He’s-well, he’s incredibly handsome, and by the end of this year he’ll have
lettered in three sports-“
“I get it.”
“No, you don’t,” Jenny said, horrified. “He’s not like that at all. Tom is
wonderful. He’s just-so wonderful that sometimes it takes a little keeping up
with him. And we’ve been together forever, and I love him, and I have since
second grade. Okay?” Anger gave her courage, and she advanced a step
toward the guy. “He is absolutely the best boyfriend in the world, and anybody
