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

he went to find you. Juilliard is occupied with Mavi, and it would seem that Marcello is now occupied with Jefferson."

Her gun points through the window down to where the four males clash together in the sting of blades. They weave between trees, coming in and out of my view as their feet carry them back and forth with very skillful steps. Four Elves, one prince.

"I'm going down there." I shove my dagger back into my belt, already turning on the balls of my feet.

"What good are you going to do?" Hedda says. "Let the Elves do what they must. One of them will win at some point.

"Do something!" I snap. "Shoot them!"

"I can’t."

"Why? Isn't that why you're here? To shoot the other players?" My voice rises as anger fills me.

"Marcello asked me to leave Jefferson and Mavi to him. I'm only to shoot them if he falls or if they manage to get a hold of you."

Jefferson had gotten ahold of me. Sloane was the only reason for my escape. From this perch, though it is high enough for the best view of the arena, I can’t see the space where Sloane's body dried to ash. Where Finnegan is likely walking up to find his wife dead. Hedda couldn't have saved me if she wanted to.

"I'm going to climb that tree. I'm going to get that damn flag and end this."

"Well, I suppose I can't stop you. I'd hate to end up like that bloke." Hedda points to Calik's fallen body.

"You won't," I say with certainty. Leaving Hedda behind as I descend the spiral metal staircase it feels oddly like this is the hardest thing I've had to do thus far in the Games. It's especially odd when I know that I'm about to enter the fray and try my hand at that flag.

How many competitors are left? I try to run through names and faces of those I have not seen. Their bodies could be anywhere, or they could be hiding. I listen for signs of Hybrids around me, though I know their stealth is much greater than mine.

The barrel of Hedda's gun with the suppressor on its end sticks out the window when I look back. She scans the trees, looking for opponents. Her watchful eye at my back gives me some ease as I leave behind the clearing and pass the tree line again.

The air doesn't smell like a green forest should. It doesn't smell of grass and animals and otherwise fresh forest things. Instead, the thick scent of iron is strong. Which could also be attributed to the blood I know is on my hands and face.

I try to wipe it away against my outfit, hiding myself against the trees as the sound of their scuffle grows closer. Finally, I'm able to peek through to see the four Elves at battle. Marcello looks far from perfect. An entire sleeve is torn from his arm, his hair is dusted with dirt, along with his entire back. There's plenty of chaotic shapes made in the gravel below them. It's entirely possible that at one point he'd been on the ground.

Juilliard looks much the same, except a red gash drips blood from his forehead down the side of his face. He bares his teeth at Mavi. Mavi's blonde hair has all but fallen out of his ponytail and into his face. With a jerk of his head he flicks the strands from in front of his gaze, holding his sword tightly with every slashing hack as he tries to advance on Juilliard.

Keeping them in my sight, I start to creep toward them, choosing to stay on the outskirts while keeping my eyes planted on the tree I know the flag waits in. The moment I round the tree and look up to the trunk, Mavi and Juilliard circle to where I stand.

I freeze and Mavi's eyes lock on me. "Oh good, you're here." His blade circles Juilliard's knocking it from his grasp. It clatters to the ground and I hurry forward to snatch it up.

"Ah, don't move, little Human." Mavi points his blade smugly at Juilliard's throat. "I'll be quite content to slit his throat."

Juilliard's entire body seems to quake with anger. His hands fist and un-fist at his sides, the muscles in his jaw cording. I stop immediately, holding my hands up in surrender.

Mavi glances over his shoulder only briefly, but Juilliard takes advantage of the moment. His fist flies into Mavi's nose with a startling crack. Mavi jerks backward as Juilliard reaches for Mavi's sword, prying it from his hand. Gravel kicks out around me, smooth metal still somehow warm from Juilliard's hold greets my grip as I snatch it from the ground and hold it out between Mavi and I.

Juilliard huffs toward Mavi at my side. Marcello and Jefferson's swords still crash together loudly and their curses are background sounds to Juilliard's growl. "I've wanted to hit for you for a long fucking time."

"The feeling is mutual." Mavi flicks his gaze to me. "What are you going to do with that?"

"Run you right through." I take a step forward with the intentions of doing just that.

Mavi's intentions are far from mine as he turns into the tree, grabbing the branch and pulling himself into it. Juilliard takes the sword from my hand. "Fuck!" He screams, shoving into his belt and following Mavi up into the tangle of tree.

Green leaves block out the view of the flag we know is up there. So close. Closer to Mavi than to anyone on our team. It's three against two now that I stand here, and I'm not just going to sit and watch as Mavi makes a grab for it. All I have to do is get within throwing distance.

The sole of my boot scrapes bark from the tree as I