Page 76 of Level Up for Love

“Are you surprised?”

“Not a bit.”

We agree to reconvene and discuss after we’ve each had a chance to play through the other’s game. I leave him to it and am several steps out the door when I hear Wesley hiss, “Is this a fucking Wyrmwood table?”

I glance to my dad’s sorry-I’m-never-around graduation gift; I’m not surprised Wesley recognizes the brand. I turn and prop my hip against the doorframe. “Yes.”

He looks at me wide-eyed, like he’s just uncovered a crime scene. “And you’re just using it to hold junk?”

“I haven’t needed it since the Cataclysm.”

That cools him down a bit, though his eyes are still bright with excitement. “We could use it for Tyrant.”

“Slow down, Wes,” I say dryly. “It was hard enough for me to let you in here.”

Wesley holds his hands up in a sign of surrender. “Sure, sure. I’ll try to make the most of it.” He swivels back to my desktop, where the shifting clouds of Afterwards’s opening menu glide across the screen. “Shall we?”

“Let’s.”

As I sink into the world of Blood Pact—the world of Moros, I remind myself—I feel like I’m in another one of Sindra’s dream-memories. I play as a freshly turned and desperately hungry Vadrien as he prowls the narrow alleyways of Zaska, grappling with how to sate his newfound lust for blood. The world is rendered primarily in gray scale, save for the blood, which is always a vivid red. In fact, the longer Vadrien goes without feeding, the brighter his potential victims glow with a hazy crimson light. The hungrier he is, the more distracting the people are, and the more difficult it becomes to use stealth as you fight against his instinct to attack.

From both a design and a mechanical perspective, it is very, very clever. I’ve always known that Wesley’s strengths lie in art and animation, but to see how far his programming skills have come, too…It’s intimidating.

And inspiring.

When Wesley first told me about this game, I initially wondered why he would let the others play it—since it revealed Vadrien’s backstory, I assumed it would be a spoiler for the campaign. But the NEWT competition we entered is exclusively for demos; the idea behind the contest is that the winner receives a boost of money, resources, and networking opportunities to help them finish their game. Since Wesley’s demo takes me through only the first moments after Vadrien’s turning, it reveals very little about his circumstances or history.

It does reveal, however, Vadrien’s horror and terror at his own monstrous vampire form, which I can’t help but be curious about. Surely he wasn’t always as evil as he is in Tyrant. But what did that descent into darkness look like, and what was its catalyst?

Blood Pact, I think, will be Wesley’s answer to those questions—once it’s finished.

If he finishes it. If he wins.

I’m on my sixth playthrough of the game and my fourth page of notes for Wesley when I feel cold fingertips caress the back of my neck.

I bite down a yelp as I’m jerked back into reality. Wesley gestures to my notes and asks, “Writing me a scathing review?”

“Something like that.”

“Was the pizza that bad?”

I glance to where my plate sits untouched on the coffee table and let out a quick laugh. “Honestly, that’s probably the highest compliment I could give you,” I grumpily admit. “I started playing and forgot all about it.” I reach for a slice now; it’s not any less delicious cold.

There’s plenty of room on the couch, but Wesley drops onto the cushion right next to me. His dark eyes are bright, and his hair is spiked up, like he’s been running his hands through it. I can’t tell if he’s anxious or just shot with energy. He opens and closes his mouth several times before I impatiently snap, “Well?”

His mouth curls into a small close-lipped smile.

“It’s fantastic.” He says it quietly, like it’s a secret.

“Yours, too.” We’re both whispering.

“Some of your puzzle designs could use some work—”

“Your attack mechanics are a little repetitive, and—”

“—it shouldn’t be that difficult at the beginning. You’ve got to warm people up to a challenge, Reagan, but—”

“—it can’t just be pretty; it has to be clever, too, so—”