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

enough to help raise me. Other days I miss his insistent lectures so fiercely that my stomach threatens to heave up all of its contents.

The walk to the pier isn't long. An hour tops, less if I walk quickly. I reach for the door, dismissing any signs of instability that could make me look as though I'm not qualified for the job. I force myself to remember who I am, everything I've done. I move with purpose.

When I make it down the stairs for the second time this morning, many of the other mercenaries have left for the day. The few who linger stare at me, unashamed. The door to Joss's office is shut, a sign that he isn't to be disturbed.

So much for a grand farewell.

Yet, I still find myself lingering at the door, not able to bring myself to open it and step outside. I turn giving the building one last look. Who knows when I'll come back? If I'll come back at all. I've known no other home for the past nineteen years.

This is all the good-bye I'll get. All that I'll grant myself. I don't spend another second trying to memorize how the rooms look, or the way everything smells damp and moldy. This place will always be a stain on my memory without me even trying.

I open the door and the heat of the day pours down on me. The sun feels as if it sits only a few feet away from my skin, tickling and burning every available inch. With a yank, I cover my face with the hood of my cloak. There will be no hiding my scent today. I'm asking for a problem. Wishing for some Hybrid to even try to tempt me with an early kill. It's wrong of me, I know. I don't care.

All of my steps are careful as I move over the sidewalk that buckles from the tree roots that have wound their way underneath. I hug my book and the stone tighter against me, sweating as I pull the cloak around my shoulders to shield me from the sun. There isn't a single cloud up in the big blue sky to block out the blinding light for even a moment or two. This would be a grueling day of heat, which only leads to a bitter cold night.

Most of the streets leading from my coven are nothing but rubble and the leftover framework of homes that at some point either caved in or burned down. Where the kids had played the night before is quiet without any sign that anyone had run or giggled on those rocks. Only when I reach Genovese’s bar do I start passing other businesses or makeshift homes.

During the day the streets are much quieter. Hybrids are mostly nocturnal creatures. Though on occasion I'll come across someone else moving about the walkways as I am. If they are wise, they would cut across the road, giving me space to pass.

I expect some crowd around the pier, where shipments come in at all hours of the day and night. There are likely also Hybrids working the Merchant Market right now, as well as a few stragglers in the Pleasure District from the night before.

At the very least I could be thankful that I wasn't forced into working in the Pleasure District. I'm much more content getting to pick which Hybrids can touch me. There aren't many, which is why I often choose to keep up this illusion of a relationship with Joss. And it’s not as if I haven’t been propositioned by the keepers at many of the whorehouses, I have. Human pussy is a rare commodity for them to be able to offer. Unfortunately for them, mine isn’t for sale.

My gaze is in a constant sweep of the road ahead of me. My ears listen intently for any sign of trouble that can come my way. My weapons are hidden, which makes me a prime target for attack. Though I think my demanding stature does well enough to scare anyone away, it hasn’t stopped them from trying in the past. I promise I'm more trouble than I'm worth.

Soon, I see heads bobbing in the distance. Hybrids carrying goods up and down long wooden gangways to the waiting merchants for distribution. Mainly Elves. All pirates.

I've never thought to question where they get their goods from, though I can't imagine their methods are peaceful. In The Bend it's every man for himself and most things can't be gained unless they are taken. Thieves, the entire lot of us. Myself included.

From the barest of information I've gathered over the years, I'm aware that other kingdoms exist overseas. Though I haven't the barest idea if they live in squalor like us. Or if they've divided their land with a large wall as we have, to separate the upper class from the lower with no in-between.

Maybe Genovese, Parlakey, and Spects are the only in-between. The richest men in The Bend, though their wealth isn't known to most. It'd be trouble if anyone else decided to do as they have done. They'd see it as an infringement on their territory, which would only lead to more gang wars. As fond of death as I am, even I am not stupid enough to wish that sort of destruction upon The Bend.

My eyes move over every figure, not really making eye contact with anyone. I look for the dark hair, warm skin tone, and bright silver eyes I remember. How could I forget? Marcello will always be captured in my mind as the man who got away. The attractive mistake I overlooked.

Even now I wonder what sort of aliment he has. My tip for the job was that my victim is handicapped, stunted in some way or another. And when you look at Marcello... there isn't any imperfection there. Nothing beyond his Immortal