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

the very worst of nights. The nights when the drinking gets out of hand, or when tensions are high from some sort of escalating gang war.

Some of the shouting comes from Marcello's own crew as their excitement grows the closer we get. Even when the ship stops to dock, I don't leave Marcello's cabin. I don't want to. One Elf in here with me is plenty, I don't need to be greeted by the many of them working to do whatever it is they do with all those ropes and chains.

I press my fingers into my closed eyes, trying to think around Juilliard's snoring. He'd smoked nearly five cigarettes before crossing his legs on the bed and fluffing up a pillow for a nap. The door opened and closed only one time in Marcello's absence and only for someone to usher in a meal. Juilliard hadn't bothered to crack an eye when they'd set a tray next to him on the bed. His food is still there, cold as an evening breeze, I'm sure.

The meal had been plenty enough. Rations of fish, biscuits, and pathetic looking greens. At least they'd tried to hit multiple food groups, if only for my sake. Unlike Juilliard's plate, mine is empty with not even scraps left over. I’d hidden half the biscuit in one of the unlocked desk drawers, in case I’d need it later. Hopefully, Marcello won’t find it before I do. Years of never knowing when you'd get your next meal will do that to a person. Elves from The Oasis clearly know nothing about that.

With Juilliard asleep and Marcello away, it gave me time to snoop through Balander's desk. I couldn't make out many of the words, though I quietly tried under my breath. I'd reluctantly resigned myself to tracing the shapes of land on the maps and memorizing each route line drawn in different colored inks.

As heavy footsteps near the cabin, I stare at the space above the map. The place where The Oasis would be if the map continued up. There are clear landmarks and squiggles that make up The Bend and places I'm familiar with. There are route lines that weave through the ocean from one port to the next until they meet up with the land on the edge of the map, the only bit of The Oasis visible. But then it just ends... leaving me with just as much knowledge about The Oasis as I'd started my day with. I'm not sure if I should be thankful that I can still live in ignorance, or pissed that I have no way of preparing myself.

The moment the door cracks open, Juilliard sits up, blinking only once before he looks to the door. Which leads me to wonder if he was ever truly asleep or just faking it. That, or he has some keen sense of knowing when Marcello is close.

With his hands wrapping around the edge of the wooden door, Marcello leans into the room, his face lit with excitement. "We're here! Let's go."

Juilliard moves only to grab some food off his tray and shove it quickly into his mouth. He stuffs his cheeks full, reminding me of a chipmunk or a squirrel. With the mouthful of food, he still offers us a knowing grin. How exciting can Kaprisha be?

I stand, running my hand over my waistband to casually feel my weapons concealed beneath. Though the blades couldn't have gotten up to run away, I always feel the compulsion to touch them just to be sure. Better safe and anxious than dead and weaponless.

Marcello slips into the room, pulling his pink jacket off the chair I’d sat in. He waits for me as I gather up my cloak and tie it around my neck. Its warmth on my shoulders is a comfort as I pull it's hood up to hide my face... my round ears...from the public. Juilliard rises from the bed, stretching with a yawn. He waits for me to exit first before he falls in line behind me.

I feel like some sort of damn royalty with these two standing around me like bodyguards. I'm Human. I'm not fucking glass.

Inside the cabin I knew time had passed with such slowness I was certain I could feel it moving backwards, but the telling sun suggests I'd examined the maps and letters on top that desk for far longer than I thought. Darkness is creeping up to replace the day. It eats away the light in a hazy sort of pink and purple color before it dissolves completely in the dark navy-blue sky.

A few lanterns are already lit in strategic places around the top deck, giving us light for when we return. Father off, over the tall railing of the ship’s ledge, down over the gangway that leads to a dock spotted with empty liquor bottles and random pieces of garbage, and into the small village, street lamps flicker. Their glow helps to highlight the throngs of Hybrids dancing, singing, and some even in the midst of lovemaking. With every breath, I can smell the barbarous scent of unwashed bodies, sex, and stale alcohol. It stings my nose so much I force myself to breathe through my mouth.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Juilliard gasps, grabbing for a rope strung taunt in the air and pulling himself up to stand on the edge of the ship.

"Beautiful is not a word I would use to describe this." I fight the urge to gag as I watch a man stumble out of a building and heave his guts up into the lap of a woman who cups her hands, as if she can catch it and protect the red skirts covering her legs. "This is... revolting."

"Either that means a lot because she comes from The Bend, or it's the best compliment this pirate island has ever been given." Marcello chuckles. His fur coat catches on the rough