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

chase me though. “My boat, The Genevieve will be leaving the docks tomorrow to head toward the games. We leave at noon. You have until then to decide.”

“My answer is still no!” I toss him an obscene gesture Arron would not have approved of over my shoulder.

The answering laughter follows me into the night even after I know Marcelo is gone, an echo of my mistakes haunting me down the streets toward my home.

 

 

 

 

I like to season my conversations with colorful words. Like fuck. Admitting that, fuck this entire day. Fuck this entire night, too. Dim lights are on in the old building, calling me back home. Fuck those lights. Lights are always on. I can’t even sleep without a bit of fucking light coming in from under my doorway.

I let out a long breath, finally pulling my hood from my face to relish the breeze that lifts my hair. My gaze strays to the rubble of buildings long gone. With the moon high in the sky, young Hybrids, a few Orcs, a Dwarf, and a couple Fauns kick around a large ball. Their laughter carries over to me.

A light smile teases at my lips. I’ll likely fall asleep to the sound of children playing tonight. They don’t seem to care that they have nothing but a single ball and the large broken stones to play with. The Bend isn’t anything but home to them. They’re too young to know any different. And that alone is beautiful. What I wouldn’t give to be like them again. Young and naive. If I’d ever been those things at all.

An Elf kicks the ball and it bounces off a rock and rolls onto my path. They don’t know I’m Human. Or if they do they simply don’t care. Jogging the last few steps, I kick the ball with the tip of my toes, sending it back their direction. They giggle again, only one of them daring enough to say ‘thank you’ to the mercenary bound for her coven.

In my head, I’m counting the days, trying to picture them on the calendar. Yes, today is what I think it is. What I’ve hoped it is. It’s what I need it to be. So I peel my attention away from the children and continue down the long path.

Joss, the Vampire that leads our particular coven of mercenaries, should be returning from his latest job today. He’ll be waiting for me. An eager feeling swirls low inside my stomach. My shoulders throb with tension, ready to be released.

Crumbling concrete shifts underneath my feet as I follow the cracked sidewalk to the broken-down building. Decaying brick has become little more than dust on the left side of the roof, leaving the upper level exposed to the elements. But a broken home is better than none. I wouldn’t want to imagine what living exposed to the creatures and thugs of The Bend would be like. Not good.

The hinges of the door practically scream as I enter. One way to ensure that everyone here knows any time someone comes or goes. All eyes shift to me. Only a few of the other mercenaries are lingering downstairs. To my left the table of a few men and one other woman turn from their card game long enough to nod at me. To my right a static-filled TV plays whatever old Human disks have most recently been found on an eternal loop. When I have time, I’ll sit and watch them.

I look past the plaster that’s peeling off the walls and the molding that’s seen better days, to meet the fire-filled gaze of my coven leader. Joss’s attention drifts back to the corkboard in front of him. I can’t help but admire his flawless skin and the way it holds a youthful glow. His cheeks are always kissed with a hint of a blush, his lips a near matching tone.

Delicately, he runs his finger over the corkboard with pinned jobs for hire. He plucks a paper from the board and rolls it up, sticking it into the back pocket of his jeans. He's all I can watch. I try to tame my breathing as he shifts on silent feet. Scuffed black jeans hang loosely from his lean hips, a leather vest made of all different shades of the material has throwing stars tucked into the straps. Each piece of clothing is cut to fit his body like a glove.

Glowing red eyes travel from my worn boots, up my leather pants, and to the smallest amount of cleavage shown by the buttons I undid on my way home. He grins. The small action reveals two large and very sharp canines. Without lowering my gaze, I undo the buckle of my belt and pull my knives off of me. I loop the belt in my hands, clutching my weapons near me.

“Rough day?” The words roll off his lips like a drug. He arches a thick eyebrow under the shag of his bleach blonde hair.

“You haven’t the slightest idea.” I don’t want to talk about today. I don’t want to think about my waiting mistake or the lingering offer he proposed. I don’t want to do anything but feel.

Joss takes deliberate steps, gliding across the old boards without a sound. I’ve learned to walk with that same grace too, smooth and quiet steps, despite it not coming naturally. I watch his tongue run out over his bottom lip, in anticipation of my taste.

His long fingers tangle through my sandy blonde hair, fisting a handful behind me. He pulls without care of the hurt. I cock my head with the movement, refusing to flinch. Joss lowers his lips to my ear. Every word is hot and damp down my neck.

“I am going to fuck you, and then you’re going to suck me off.”

I can’t help