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

The announcer drones on in the background. Marcello clears his throat and continues, talking more so to our group than just me now. "When he says go, it is customary that any killing does not start until we've made it far into the brush. It allows us all time to disperse. Hedda, I'll need you to find the highest vantage point." She follows his gaze as he looks out. I'm not sure how he can see much farther past the trees. "There." He nods. "Find the flag, watch it, and don't let anyone close who is not on our team."

The other teams are only a few paces away from us on either side. It would be nothing for us to lunge for each other and finally be at each other's throats. Nothing at all.

"How many rounds do you have?" I point at her gun.

"Ten. It's all they would allow me to bring. I wanted to bring my belt with three more magazines with me but they refused."

They were picky about how we were able to kill. An annoyance, but ten rounds would be plenty, as long as her aim is true. I look back up to Marcello, my hand wrapping round the end of my dagger.

"Just so we're clear, I don't give a fuck about what is customary." I measure the distance between the starting line and the beginning of the trees. Ten feet, maybe more. That's plenty of space to kill a man.

"I was hoping you'd say that." Marcello straightens.

Juilliard runs a hand through his hair and glances at the two of us. "For once, maybe I'm happy she's said that too."

"Teams, at the ready!" The announcer shouts. Many lowering into poses that suggests they'll leap into action at any moment.

Finnegan pulls an arrow from his quiver and strings it, pointing the weapon at his toes. "Have we decided to play dirty today?"

"Yes," I can't help the smile that lifts my cheeks. "We have."

"Very good." He winks at his wife.

"That is our very favorite way to play." Sloane swings her axe at her side. Her ponytail catches the wind of the movement and fans slightly behind her.

The horn blares and I have to force myself to hesitate. Let everyone get a fraction of a step ahead of me. Marcello, weaponless, is a blur lost to the woods in a breath. Finnegan's arrow snaps a moment after the horn releases us. It buries into the neck of the werewolf, Dakota. He stumbles and his team runs right over him, not bothering to stop or care.

Most of the Hybrids, the quick ones like the Vampires and Elves, are gone faster than I can keep my eyes on them. But the slower ones, Dwarfs and Orcs, their backs are squarely in my view. Particularly, a red headed Dwarf with a cruel tongue and a passion for trying to kick me out of elevators.

I start into a sprint, my blade behind my head as I arch my arm and push all of my weight into the throw. Light glances of the dagger as it spins a few times in the air before hitting its target. Rafferty, the stupid little Dwarf, stiffens as the weapon pierces him in the small space between his spine and shoulder blades. He falls face forward into the dirt and I run right to him.

Blood seeps into his clothes and clings to the blade as I push my boot to his back and pull the blade out. He groans, trying to roll to his side and free his own weapon that he himself has landed on. I look behind me but Sloane hovers, her watchful eyes scanning the forest her husband has gone from her side.

Filling my hand with a tangle of his red hair, I lift him up so he can look at me. I laugh dryly and run the sharpened edge across his throat, spilling more blood and ending his miserable existence. "You deserve this." I say as I always do. Tonight I don't mean it as much as usual, which causes me to pause for a moment before I kick his body over and pull the short sword he brought out of his grasp. "Thanks for this."

Two competitors are down before we've even reached the cover of the playing field. Two challengers who won't have an opportunity to get the flag before we do. And I'll keep killing them off until we're the last ones. I'll kill them all if I have to for these fucking Games to end so I can finally do what needs to be done. Change will be coming to The Oasis in one way or another.

My feet hit the gravel and it skitters back behind me. Sloane is at my side in a single heartbeat, rushing into the fray. Under the cover of trees, I find myself looking up into the branches far more often than I'd like. I also expect to hear weapons clashing and Hybrids fighting off death.

A shiver chases down my spine. I hold my dagger a bit tighter and my gaze moves faster. The playing field with all its trees and stairs built to rooms to spy from is utterly quiet. Every breath I take feels as though it's giving my position away.

A single gunshot booms out. I nearly jump right out of my skin. Hedda? Had she made it to the highest vantage point already? Had she found the flag? I don't think the Orc is fast enough for that to occur. The idea of Hedda fist to fist with someone...that churns my stomach more than any of the blood and gore I've seen in my entire life.

I slow only when I'm behind a tree trunk. Listening intently. Sloane stands a few feet away, looming behind her own large bark covered shield. She cocks her head lifting her axe up