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

thing wildly kicking up dirt over the top of the serpentine hedge as it runs.

Sloane stops, Finnegan immediately after her. Juilliard slides into the Vampires, Hedda collapsing at his back and forcing a loud grunt out as she pushes the air from his lungs. I stop short of sandwiching Hedda and Marcello hovers behind me.

"Dead end," Sloane shouts.

"Shit," Juilliard huffs.

"Well." I turn to Marcello. "Fearless leader, what do we do now that you've sent us down the wrong path?"

I regret speaking the moment the words leave my lips. Something frantic travels over Marcello's features before a snarl and a screech tears apart the snakes to our left. Green shining scales fling in every direction. Round horns drive into Marcello's side.

There's a loud crunch that I catch seconds after the impact has actually happened when Marcello's body is flung into the opposite wall of snakes. The serpents slow his fall as he slides to the ground. The familiar sense of panic as death comes so close anchors me to the ground. Horror seizes me.

The Criosphinx turns on us. I press myself into Hedda who presses herself into Juilliard. I expect him to be the one to step up next. Is he not Marcello's next in command? Instead, Sloane and Finnegan push us aside.

I let them. I don't like that I let them, it feels like a knock to my pride, but when the alternative is death...well, you'd let them help you too.

"Try for the neck again?" Sloane asks her husband. Finnegan dips his head. When he does it, it's more of a regal bow than a nod.

The Criosphinx grinds its large knuckles into the ground. When it breathes, dust scatters beneath it, its dark eyes flare. Davison's blood mats its fur at odd intervals acting as a dark reminder that the blood could easily be mine.

Finnegan runs by it, faster than I can move, but not near as fast as I know he can. He's slowed his pace so that the monster can keep its attention fixed on him, I note. Smart.

Finnegan’s mousy brown hair dips as he weaves away from the creature's face and horns, slamming his fist into its gut with a hiss as feral as the snakes around us. He pulls the creature's attention, allowing Sloane time to jump up to grab its horns. Like I had done... Like I had done and failed.

The moment her slender form melts against the orange brown fur and her hands grasp the black horns, the beast twists. Its thin tail slings out like a whip cutting into the constantly shifting wall as it whirls around. More snakes fall. One crawls close enough that I stomp my foot down on its head before it can even think about it biting into my flesh. Its skull crunches under the force of my boot.

Finnegan continues to throw fists and kick his heavy boots into the animal. Either hoping to distract or possibly knock the wind from its chest, I'd assume. None of his blows are deadly.

Sloane is rocked against the beast as I was. Unlike the way my head wanted to wobble until it toppled from my body, Sloane’s is stiff. She's poised. Ready.

Growling, the Criosphinx turns again. His hoof missing Marcello by an inch at best. It pulls both me and Juilliard back to reality.

Marcello's eyes squeeze shut, his nose scrunches tightly. Snakes bite at his arms, his legs, none able to break the expensive materials. A fang digs into his earlobe. That bit of flesh isn't protected. Marcello grabs the small creature by the neck, ripping it away. Its tooth drags through the skin.

Red blood drips off the end of his ear. He wheezes as Juilliard and I reach him. I slap a snake away. I might not like the idea of it biting and infecting me, but I've dealt with a reptile a time or two. Enough to not be shy about smacking it the hell away from a teammate.

A hairy knuckled claw swings behind me. I push into Marcello to miss it and pull him back with me as soon as the beast moves away. Sloane's legs are straddling it now. Not its back. Not like I had. But it's neck.

The powerful curve of her thighs is apparent through her pants. Every muscle clenching as she squeezes its neck. Aware of the pressure on its throat, the Criosphinx lifts a claw. With a good swipe of those razor-sharp claws, a powerful one, I wouldn't be surprised if it could lob off Sloane's entire leg if it gets the chance.

Before the paw can reach his wife, Finnegan leaps, grabbing the beast’s ankle and dragging it back down to the ground. He rolls away at the last second to miss getting crushed under the animal's weight. A single nail clips the side of his torso, cutting through the fabric of his shirt like it's softened butter. A line of blood appears, but it doesn't slow the Vampire down.

Marcello groans, holding his side. He blinks his eyes open, trying to push himself to his feet. Juilliard holds his back, keeping his friend upright. The most I can offer is my strength as I pull him up.

"Where does it hurt?" I ask.

An injury this early in the event can't mean anything good for us. Or it could mean that I've somehow underestimated the games. I know that every day here is deadly, yet I refuse to acknowledge the possibility of me actually dying.

Death may come in a passing scary thought, but it's never truly real. I'm always holding out... holding out hope that I’ll overcome it or be spared by one of the Hybrids stupid enough to work with me. Foolish line of thought.

"I think it broke a couple ribs." His voice is soft, his mouth tight with pain. "Hurts. To. Breathe." Marcello forces himself to say.

Juilliard