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

wood of the railing as he raises a hand and pulls Juilliard back down and points him toward the docks.

While we walk down the gangway, I want to keep my eyes on the small town festering on this island so I can stare at it, pick it apart until I can figure out what exactly is so amazing about it. Instead I'm watching every shadow. Shards of broken glass crunch under the soles of my boots as I step onto the gravel covered earth.

Juilliard continues ahead, his dark hair and clothes helping him to blend in with the quickly settling night. His own cloak billows behind him from how quickly he walks. Marcello kicks at the dirt as he keeps pace next to me. He watches me from the corner of his eyes, both hands tucked safely into the pink jacket, his old revolver bouncing against his leg with a noisy, repetitious pattern.

"Have you ever left The Bend?" he asks.

"Yes." I don't stop my constant sweep of the land before us. These Elves may be comfortable here, but I certainly am not.

"But never here?"

"Why would I want to come here?" And it doesn't bother me that the question is mildly insulting. Actually, it would probably be good for him to be insulted a little.

"Where, uh, have you gone before? I'm kind of curious." His steps inch closer to me and the nearer he comes the bigger steps I take to keep the distance between him and I.

When I said that I've been out of The Bend I only really meant that I'd been to The Oasis. That. One. Time. But I'm not going to tell him that. Fuck, I'm not rich enough to travel the world.

"Why does it matter?" I bite out after a moment of silence drags between us.

The boat dock comes to an end and the rock paved walkway crumbles to grass beaten away to dirt. Approaching the small village, I'm now able to see that it isn't really a village at all. Just about five well-weathered buildings, equally spaced with broken down seating and grassy areas in between.

Marcello shrugs. "I guess it doesn't."

I want to say ‘no it doesn’t’, but by some grace of the Saints I keep my mouth closed. I didn't really ask to have a conversation with him anyway.

Up ahead, Juilliard stops under a street lamp and waves us forward, pointing toward one of the buildings. I squint at the sign hanging crooked above the door. B-R-O-T-H-E-L. I try to sound the letters out in my head. Buh, ruh, awe, tuh, huh....no not happening. Sometimes it's better to sound the words out loud, but I'd rather slit my wrists than do that in front of any Hybrid.

Above the sign, stamped into the wooden board above it is a painted green snake. The symbol of the dark Saint of Sin. That alone is telling enough. I’ve seen other symbols just like it stamped all around The Pleasure District.

Upbeat music carries out the door as Juilliard pushes it open and holds it for us. It's the sort of song that could make someone want to dance. Not any of those funky foot shuffling dances the farmers that live on the outskirts of The Bend do when they come in to celebrate after harvest. No, this sort of music could make someone want to move their hips.

And as we enter, I can see that many women are already doing just that. The way their bodies flow and contort gives them an almost snakelike appearance. Each of them already wrapping around one prey or another.

Once we are completely inside, I stay against the wall. Leaning away is the only sign I offer that the more I look, the more annoyed I truly am. These women aren't just dancing because the music is grand, their dancing for someone. Half. Naked. Some even more naked than that...

A whorehouse. Marcello and Juilliard have drug me across the sea to bring me to a whorehouse. I truly can't believe it. Mostly because I’m wondering who the fuck we are going to pick up from here that can help us in The Oasis Games.

We're doomed. I've signed away my life and I'm going to die with these two idiots and a prostitute.

I dare a glance at Marcello. He has the slightest smile to his face, not one that could make those deep dimples appear like earlier, but his eyes shine as they bounce from one Hybrid to the next. Something inside me tightens at the prospect of him picking out some floozy to bring along. We're sharing a room for fucks sake!

"We're picking up someone from here?" I turn my face to Marcello, talking low.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch." He claps a hand on my arm, giving me a little shake. "We're here for our next teammate... and maybe a little bit of fun."

"We're picking up a whore to join our team? What's she going to do? Seduce someone out of killing us?"

"Oh, Hedda doesn't like to be called a whore. You'd be wise to never say that again."

And that's all he leaves me with before he melts into the crowd. I turn on my heels, feeling that nervous twinge reminding me not to get caught here. I look for the only other familiar face I know, and even he isn't all that familiar.

Juilliard has made himself at home in the corner of the room. He has a cigar lit instead of a cigarette, and he holds it proudly between his fingers as he stares up at a Vampire who squats and bounces before him on the table. A Vampire. My pulse picks up and I force myself to push it back down. To take deep breaths and calm myself.

I'd assumed, wrongly so, that Kaprisha would basically be Elf territory and I wouldn't encounter