Vengeance (The Prince's Games Book 1) by Rebecca Grey (electric book reader TXT) 📕

laughter erupts somewhere off to my left. Jefferson and his team of asshats bounce off of one another, encouraging their fit of giggles. Frustration burns under my skin.

Another Orc lumbers up to us, a wide waddle in her walk causing her to sway with each step. Hedda offers her a small wave and slows.

"Have you seen Lux?" The Orc asks. Amory, I think her name is.

My steps slow at the question. Hedda shakes her head, but my gaze loses focus on the floor and travels the room, bouncing from face to face as the teams gather. I'm looking for dark hair. I'm looking for moonshine eyes. I'm looking for a cocky smile and two deep dimples.

I spin to walk backward, to look for the remainder of my team. My heart leaps, pounding loudly as I meet a dark caramel gaze. Juilliard's eyes are wide, frantically searching, they lock on mine with the same unanswered question. Where's Marcello?

Nausea builds, swirling like a wild tornado inside of me. Bile rises in my throat, threatening to come out in loud, nervous heaps. Had I pushed Marcello to run off with Lux again? Is this some messed up way of paying me back? We can’t keep doing this.

Even as our teams become one crowd, there's a murmur of questions. Every inhale is tight, caught on the tension that riddles the air around us. I meet more returned gazes than in my entire time in The Oasis as teams question the same thing.

Do you know where Rake is? Where did Isla go? Have you seen Lux? Where's Marcello? Have you heard from Danisha?

So it isn't just Marcello. But now my body flushes with a different feeling. Heart pounding, sweaty palms and quaking knees, I force my attention forward. My heart falls into the pits of my stomach. I'm familiar with this feeling... this loss... this terrible gnawing sensation. This feeling I run from.

Fear. But not fear for myself, the fear that motivates me to move swiftly, act faster, survive. This is fear for someone else's life. I thought I was safe. I thought I put up enough walls to protect myself from it. Yet here I am, sick at the thought of Marcello taken from the Safe Haven. Or worse... dead.

What if someone took them all out? Fighting and killing is frowned upon in the Safe Haven, but not illegal. They could all be carried away by that never-ending flow of water that runs and leaves through the far side of the room.

A lull in the conversations carries the sound of running water to me. I turn toward the noise. Where would they go if they let the current carry them out? Would we ever find their bodies?

My boot squeaks against the polished concrete as I look back at the team board. Marcello's name is still readable. All of their names are still readable. No one is dead. Yet.

Hybrids shift as if they can make their missing teammate reappear. Everyone watches to see if they'll come running around the corner, just late for the call to the event. It's more than that though. Something very wrong is about to happen. Juilliard can feel it too as he pushes his way through the crowd. His gaze is pinned on the large metal door and the smaller one beside it, waiting for the announcer to slip out and tell us what's happening.

"This is a dangerous game we're about to play." He looks down at me. "Not for us. For Marcello, I just know it." He swallows. "I hope you've paid attention, Nilsa."

"Me?" I arch a brow. "Paid attention to what?"

Can he hear my heart pounding? Can he tell that every breath I take only forces more anxiety and fear to rush through my veins?

He shakes his head, pursing his lips.

"What do you know?" I grab his elbow, fisting his sleeve inside my grip. "What are you not telling me?" These Elves... all of them... they know more than anyone else. Juilliard, Marcello, hell even Mavi's team act as if they have an upper hand. They probably do, working in the castle has to provide some sort of advantage.

Red blooms like a sunburn across his nose and cheeks. "Stop, Nilsa." He tries to shake me off, but I hold on. Now is not the time for him to play games with me.

"Look, if you're still mad about yesterday. I'm sorry. Okay? I'm fucking sorry." I keep my voice low, too ashamed by my own quietly hissed apology. The apology isn't even for him, it's for someone else who can't even hear it right now. I can hardly believe I can hear myself saying it.

"Don't tell that to me. You should have told that to Marcello. Now let's hope that you still have the chance." He chews on the inside of his lip. "Let's all hope we still have the chance to apologize before it's too late." Juilliard loses a long sigh. "Nilsa, this thing between you and him is fucking stupid."

"I agree." Our attraction to one another doesn't even make sense. That's why we should stay away from each other.

"Why can't you just admit that you have feelings for him?"

My jaw drops at his quietly admitted words. I thought... I thought he was on my side. I thought Juilliard hated me as much as I hate me, and that's why we were in agreement that nothing should happen between Marcello and I.

"What did you just say?"

Juilliard spares me a glance. "I don't like it. I really don't. But you didn't know Marcello before he met you. He's different. In a good way." Wrinkles form across his forehead, concern seeping into his gaze. "Now we should all pray to the Saints that he's okay."

I dip my chin, to agree with him or to start a prayer of my own, I'm not exactly