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

carries on the wind, the moan of someone being thoroughly pleased, I purse my lips and start to slide the window up. This window doesn't squeal in its tracks as Hedda's had. It's silent, well-greased. I arch a brow and listen intently.

Though the building itself is full of sounds, music, sex, and drunken babble, none of that comes from this room. I strain to hear anything, even the softest whisper of breathing. Nothing.

The rubber of my boot scrapes against the wooden pane and I stick my foot in, committing to my plan. One foot, then the next, scoot in on my ass, slip my upper body under the glass, and I’m in. I stand listening, feeling the great expanse of the room as my senses reach out to identify everything around me.

It's too dark to make much out other than dark blobs of furniture. The room's bigger than I expected. Smells nicer too, I think. I sniff the air. Something here smells... Sterile. Clean.

Light glows underneath the door and I walk to it. I focus on rolling the weight of my body from the heel of my foot to my toes. Voices start on the other side and I still.

"It's a good night for business! Nearly all our rooms are booked for the night," A man says.

"Yeah. Good thing, Mica, good thing. Want me to make the rounds and make sure everyone's all paid up for the girls they're borrowing?"

"Please do. I'll be in my office, you can bring the legends to me there."

With every word their voices grow nearer, and the thrilling frantic feeling inside my veins pulses harder. That's it. That's where I am. I'm not just in any room, I've made it to the owner’s office. Fucking shit. Please, don’t be his office, I beg the Saints.

The doorknob jostles as a key is pushed inside of it and twists. With my limited eyesight I look around, desperate to find someplace to hide. There's a second door to my left, a small one, probably a closet. I don't let myself think about it too hard, because the click of the lock echoes inside my head like warning bells.

As the door swings open, my back presses into jackets that smell musty and old, dust kicking up in the air and the closet door closes me in. It isn't one of those solid doors that keeps me completely hidden. No, this is one of those slotted doors that lets all the light in when Mica flips a switch, illuminating the room as he makes his way across the room.

I shrink back away from the glow that pours in on me without anywhere to actually go. I doubt Mica can see me through the door, but if I shift just the right way I can see him. It's hard to get a good look with the strips of wood breaking my view up every inch, but I can get the general view of him. Enough so that I'm afraid he's a Vampire.

Maybe I'm a cynic, but life only dealt me the shitty cards. If he doesn't smell Human, or even Elf, he may just smell the cigarette smoke that stains the fabric around me. It's the only thing that breaks up the smell of dust from the closet and the clean scent of the room.

Mica isn't particularly tall for a man, but he's of slender build, particularly petite. Sometimes that makes it harder for me in a fight if my opponent is small like that. They're slippery bastards, I swear. He has a black button-down shirt tucked into pressed khakis. Nice clothing for this side of the wall... This business must bring in plenty of cash. He'd said as much outside the door.

He walks smoothly across the room, setting a small glass with ice and I'm guessing bourbon on a small table at the end of a brown couch. He leaves the drink behind and makes his way to the desk that sits diagonally in the corner. I'd narrowly missed that when I'd entered the room. Mistakenly, I'd thought that was a nightstand.

Tight black curls are pressed into his head, the red glow of his eyes is particularly vibrant against his blemish-free skin. He smiles to himself, making two long fangs appear over his full bottom lip. Taking something up off the desk, he lowers himself into the seat.

A sigh waited on the inside of my lips. Somehow, I kept it in. How long is he planning on sitting in his office for? How long will I wait inside this stuffy closet? The dust tickles my nose. I scrunch up my face and hold in the sneeze.

I'm in for the long haul. Stuck in some Vampire’s closet, waiting like their next meal. Saints, this is probably the worst part of my job, along with the sneaking around. I'd been stuck in closets before and when no one knows that you are there they'll say and do anything. Sometimes the wildest things.

The most memorable always includes sex. Perhaps I'm messed up like that, watching people fuck. Normally it doesn't bother me. Sometimes I even enjoy it. It's just the familiarity of the Elf I'd seen in the window that threw me off, took me out of the moment, I mean. Not that I had the time to watch them get it on through the window.

I let time pass as I sit inside my thoughts, just waiting for the moment that Mica will leave this room again. My muscles yearn to move and stretch as the minutes tick by. As situations like these often do, I’m suddenly reminded of a pressing matter I haven’t taken care of in hours. Juilliard hadn’t shown me, but said where I could find a hole in the ship to ‘shit if I needed to’ before he’d let sleep take him over. I’d avoided using it, and now my