Poseidon (Contemporary Mythos Book 5)

With the tournament the following day, I’d spent every waking moment practicing my technique in Tides of Atlantis until my eyes couldn’t stand staring at the screen any longer. I’d been at it so long I started to see myself as my character within the game. It would be the third tournament I’ve competed in, but the first focused on this game alone. Simon continued to text me, even with a simple, “Good morning,” or “Hey Beautiful,” but gave me distance, knowing I needed to practice. Most of the bigger tournaments happened in central or south Florida, but Pensacola decided to put their own foot in the ring and rented space at the Pensacola Bay Center to host the event.

I streamed the last few hours of my gameplay, inviting any subscribers in the area to watch me compete at the tournament. In exchange for their support, anyone wearing a shirt with my gamertag on it would receive a free swag pack I’d leave with will call.

The morning of day one for the tournament, I packed away my game controller, charging cable, and headset. Some tournaments provided game-themed headsets for all to wear, but I wanted mine as a backup if necessary.

Pausing in front of the mirror, I smoothed out my fitted tee, staring at the SaucySiren logo—a cartoon version of me with a teal mermaid tail holding a game controller. I had yet to step foot into the convention center and could already feel the mixture of nerves and excitement swirling in my belly, competing for control. There was no telling if any other women gamers would be in attendance, but with how few we were at these events, it prickled an extra set of nerves. I didn’t want to leave fellow lady gamers down.

My phone buzzed on my nightstand. A text from Meg saying she was here. Meg offered to drive us to the tournament, so I could focus on keeping calm and not dealing with traffic anxiety. I sent her a quick reply, telling her I was on my way downstairs, and grabbed my bag.

Pausing in front of my fish tank, I blew them a kiss. “Wish me luck, guys.”

Several responded with vibrant flaps of their fins.

I made my way downstairs and crawled into Meg’s truck with a smile. Given how high I had to step up to get into the behemoth vehicle, it always felt like mounting a horse.

“You ready?” Meg’s brow bobbed.

“I only lost one match the last three days. Not sure how much more ready I could be.” Pulling the door shut, I rested my bag in my lap and focused on my breathing.

“That’s my girl. Mama needs a vacation.” Meg winked at me before pulling out of the parking lot and turning on the radio.

The calming sounds of Aurora singing Under The Water soothed my erratic heartbeat.

“Please don’t remind me. It only adds to the pressure I already feel. I can’t place any lower than third to win enough money for the cruise.”

Meg squeezed my knee and patted my thigh. “Relax. Sure, I’d love a vacation, but don’t let that give you an anxiety attack in the middle of a match. I’m going to watch you kick a bunch of young dude’s asses, quite frankly.”

“That—” Placing my head on the rest, I turned it toward Meg with a grin. “—I can do.”

“I’ve never been to one of these events. Anything I should know?” Meg grabbed her Chapstick from the center console, slathering some over her lips.

“It’s like any other sports event. It lasts two days. Today consists of pools and brackets as losers are weeded out, and, eventually, only the best eight remain. Tomorrow is the actual final tournament or The Big Show with the crowds cheering for their favorite players. And they live stream it. So, don’t get caught picking your nose or something.” I bit back a smile.

Meg stuck out her bottom lip after beating her hands on the steering wheel. “Noted.”

“There’s also a party tonight.” I kept my face forward, waiting for her response.

“A party? What kind? Costumed?”

“Definitely. But it’s an actual party. Dancing, drinking, nerding out.”

She raised one brow and slowly turned her head. “Nerds party? I had no idea.”

“Oh, you really should see it. We may not frequent clubs, but get us together for an event like this? You better believe we know how to throw down.” I flashed a sparkling grin at her.

She shook her head. “And to think I knew you.”

When we arrived at the convention center, the Tides of Atlantis game logo in gold and teal hung over the building. I’d managed to dry my hands and keep my nerves at bay…until now. We parted ways once we walked inside, Meg heading for the restroom, and I following the signs for “athletes.” Several pairs of male eyes followed me as I briskly made my way over the orange and blue swirly-patterned carpet, focusing my gaze forward.

A woman with fifties-style flared glasses and eye make-up to match shuffled papers at a table with a sign reading, “Registration.” Her black hair pulled back into two small buns atop her head and chocolate-colored eyes beamed at me as I approached the table.

“Hey there.” I gave a small wave. “I pre-registered. Cordelia Bourne?”

“Bourne. Bourne.” She licked the tip of her forefinger and flipped through colored tabs, yanking out a sheet marked with the letter b. “Cordelia Bourne. Here we are. We just need your registration fee, and you’ll be all set.”

The tournament added a portion of the fees to the overall pool for the top three players at event’s end. The additional amount donated by the tournament’s sponsor, Blue Ring Surfing Supply, made for a hefty winning sum despite its smaller town location. After removing the credit card from my wallet, I held it up with raised brows.

“Let me cue up the tablet. Damn thing went to sleep again,” the woman said, swiping a hand over the fingerprint-covered tablet, handing it to me to swipe through the attached card reader.

After paying and horribly signing my name with my finger on the touch screen, she held a lanyard to me.

“Lanyards too? How fancy.” I grinned, slipping the teal and gold neck strap over my head.

She blew a bubble with her gum, popping it. “The first pool starts within the hour. Looks like you’re in station three. Feel free to roam the showroom floor in the meantime. They’ll announce it over the intercom.”

“Thanks.” I turned away, ignoring the steady increase in my heartbeat. “Oh, can a guest go on the floor, or is it for participants only?”

“Oh, honey, of course. The more, the merrier for those vendors. More of a chance they’ll sell something.” She winked at me before turning her attention to another approaching gamer.

Wrapping a hand around the lanyard, I found Meg and led her to the showroom floor. “I need you to keep me from buying everything in sight.”

“You? I could barely talk you into buying fancy underwear for yourself, and you’re worried about here?” Meg scanned the floor—rows of tables varying from toys, video games, authors, t-shirts, and c-list celebrities signing autographs.

“I’m nervous. And when I’m nervous, I buy things. And ninety percent of said things here make me squeal just looking at them.” I gasped and darted to a table with Funko POP toys, swiping one of the Poseidon characters from the Tides of Atlantis game.

“Hey.” Meg plucked it from my hands, gave a warm smile to the vendor, and placed it back on the table.

“But look at how cute his plastic beard looks.” I conjured my best puppy dog eyes.

Meg folded her arms. “You place in the tournament, and I’ll personally buy you the cute hunk of plastic.”

“Bribery.” I bumped my hip against hers. “I love it.”

We spent the next thirty minutes perusing the tables, and I eventually shoved my hands in my jean pockets to make them behave.

“Attention, participants. The first round of pools is about to begin. All players assigned to stations one through six, please make your way and be ready to go within the next fifteen minutes. All guests, please enjoy the showroom floor as we will only grant entry to guests for finals tomorrow. Thank you,” an announcer’s voice boomed over the intercom.

“Oh my God.” My hands instantly clammed up, and I wiped them on my pants. “What if I choke? What if I freeze? What if—”

Meg pressed a hand over my mouth, and I looked up at her pleadingly. “You are good at this game. I’ve watched you countless times. You play with thousands of people watching you and manage to make it entertaining. Just imagine there’s a webcam and chat window. You’ll be fine.”

I nodded, and she dropped her hand.

“I saw a food court on the bottom level. Going to grab some grub. Text me, yeah?” She jutted behind her with her thumb, backpedaling on her heels.

“Yup,” I squeaked, turning for the signs directing participants to the gaming arena.

During the pools and brackets, the setup wasn’t entirely impressive—rows of monitors and swiveling gaming chairs positioned far enough apart each player couldn’t see the others’ screen. The final round was when they pulled out all the stops. All it was missing was a cage and it’d look like an MMA fight. I waited in the foyer for them to open the door and allow us to settle into our stations.

A younger man I didn’t recognize ducked his head in front of me, scanning my shirt. “Well, well. If it isn’t SaucySiren.” His mop of dirty blonde hair fell over his blue-gray eyes, and he flicked his head, throwing it out of his face.

“I’m sorry. Do I know you?” I bobbed my brow.

He pointed at his lanyard, displaying the username ProteinGeyser. The player who tried to snipe me when I saved my fish from dying.

I narrowed my eyes. “Do we have a problem?”

“You got lucky, Saucy.” He sniffed once, folding his hands behind his back and turning away from me. “I’m not sure what you tried to pull using the trident, but I can tell you, this is the big leagues.”

Every doubt and uncontrollable bubbling of nerves I’d felt the past hours—gone.

“Absolutely. Besides, the trident takes actual skill to wield.” I lifted my chin, making myself taller standing beside his six-foot self.

He bent backward, pressing a hand over his stomach. “A girl shit talker. Oh, I’m looking forward to this.”

“All players move to your stations,” the announcer said.

I could’ve continued the verbal jabs, but I needed to focus—get my head in the game.

Especially now.

A Tides of Atlantis headset rested at each station. After removing my gaming controller, I sat down, wiggling myself in the seat and adjusting the height until I felt comfortable. Geyser was several stations away from me, which I preferred considering I could only ignore his death stare into the side of my head for so long.

There were several gameplay styles with person versus person—team deathmatch, capture the flag, controlling zones, but what Tides of Atlantis focused on—was individual “Free for All.” The game unleashed players on a rotating map, unaware of where the other five players spawned in. Using your wits, listening for signs of nearby players, and utilizing attack and defense, you’d play until the first player reached twenty-five terminations.

Almost an hour had gone by the time it was Geyser and me at the top, tied each with twenty-four kills. The next would win the pool and have a reserved spot in the winner’s bracket. They’d purposely selected maps with a shorter range, making it quicker to find someone and not as many places to hide. I followed the shore to help track where I was on the map but hugged the tree line to conceal myself.

“Why you hiding, Saucy?” Geyser yelled from his station loud enough for me to hear through my headset.

A sound similar to a hundred orca whales calling out in unison blasted through my head, making me wince, but also making me hyper-focused. A twig snapped behind me, and I rotated my analog stick in time to see Geyser leaping into the air with his sword held above his head, readying to land a heavy attack. Pressing the left trigger button at the opportune moment, I blocked him, sending sparks flying. My hands tensed along with my shoulders and I took a deep breath.

I needed to focus on something to relax my mind. Tingles shot down my arm like water rippled over them. Simon’s eyes. That smile. A genuine interest in everything I said during our date. My thumbs flew over the buttons, dodging at critical moments, striking when I saw a possible clearing.

Another player attacked us from the side, trying to take advantage of us distracted by the other, but I yanked my second weapon, a xiphos from my back, and pressed the “y” button, launching it into the player’s chest for an insta-kill. Geyser launched another combo attack, and I timed the deflection just right for my character to perform a move that rendered him swordless. With one push of the “x” button, I threw one light attack…and that was that.

“We have our winner. Please make your way back into the foyer and wait for instructions on stations for your assigned brackets.”

Every player stopped to shake my hand once we’d left the arena with wide grins plastered on their faces and congratulating me and my skills. Geyser appeared in front of me like a looming shadow.

“You think you’ve seen the last of me? I’ll work my way up that losers bracket to be in the final tomorrow.” His thin arm lifted to point in my face.

I leaned away with a grimace. “At least you have a plan. See you tomorrow then?” Before he had time to retort, I turned with a flip of my hair.

Hopefully, it hit him in the face.

The remaining pools and brackets commenced, weeding out the weaker players, enticing anxiety and excitement packed into a singular arena with each passing hour. Geyser did as he promised, winning the top spot in the loser’s bracket and gaining the last opportunity for the eight finalists. Finishing second in the winner’s bracket did nothing for my nerves, but it was a guaranteed spot in the finals. I’d make up for it tomorrow.

They’d outfitted one of the many large ballrooms in the convention center to host the party for players, fans, and guests. An electronic song called Freaks by Timmy Trumpet blasted through the room, the bass vibrating in my chest. I’d always enjoyed the jazzy element the trumpets added to his songs. His music became a regular on my numerous gaming playlists. As I promised, there were indeed people in costume. Some were dressed as characters from the cut screen storyline of the Tides of Atlantis game, while others partied as generic mermaids, crabs, and pirates—which were not in the game.

“Mind. Blown,” Meg mumbled.

I elbowed her. “Told ya.”

“Do any of these players ever get so completely shit-faced they can’t compete the next day?” Meg stepped aside as a giant lobster in glasses walked past, holding drinks in both hands.

“Usually not for finals, but I’ve heard of people missing their scheduled time for pools and getting disqualified for sure.”

“I kinda dig that. Rock star lifestyle as a gamer?” Meg grinned while tapping her hand against her hip to the beat.

“The big-time pros do live like that. The game companies will pay for their lodging, shower them with sponsor gifts. Some of the big teams even have live-in chefs.” I tossed my lanyard, making it do one rotation around my neck.

Meg paused and shot her gaze to me. “No shit.”

Geyser stood at the opposite side of the room, glaring at me with one eye through the sea of bouncing bodies. He lifted his fists like he held a sword and slashed the air in front of him before pointing at me.

“Who the hell is that?” Meg’s shoulders rolled back.

“Apparently, my arch-nemesis. Can he be any more dramatic?”

Meg shoved her jacket sleeves to her elbows. “Need me to remind him what humility looks like?”

I grabbed her elbow and coaxed her toward the bar. “I’ll remind him in-game tomorrow. Trust me.”

“Have I told you how much I love this side of you?” Meg leaned on the bar top, hunching forward. “I’m totally crushing on you right now.” She winked before nudging me with her boot.

“Oh, be quiet and shove a drink in your face.” I slid some cash to the bartender after grabbing the two beer bottles they’d rested in front of me.

After handing her one, I turned my back to the bar only to be met with a man not much taller than me in a white toga—more like a bedsheet—a plastic trident under his arm, and a fake grey beard was partially falling off his face from failed glue.

“Are you—” He swayed as he spoke and dropped his eyes to my shirt with a gasp. “You are. Holy shit. I watch your Glitch stream every damn week. You’re hellah good. And if I may say so—” He leaned in, tripping over his own feet. “Very, very cute.”

Meg slid closer to me.

After discreetly waving in front of me from the stench of his beer breath hanging in the air between us, I plastered a smile. “Thank you. I appreciate the support.”

“It’s why I’m dressed like this. To honor your mad trident skills.”

I stole a glance at Meg, who shrugged, not interfering but also not leaving me to fend for myself. “Oh? Are you one of the characters?”

“Just call me…Poseidon.” He bowed, tripping again.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

“What you need to call—is a cab,” a deep voice said from behind “Poseidon.”

Simon.