Vengeance (The Prince's Games Book 1) Rebecca Grey (first e reader txt) 📖

slowly from her side. Her lips move without sound. I don't need her voice to know exactly what she's saying. I've had years to practice reading lips.

Orc on your left.

Inhaling, I step out from behind the tree. I exhale as I swing my arm, stopped by a large metal-cuffed arm. He stops my second blade with the end of his flail. Costello glares down at me, but I'm already in motion. His towering form manages to cast a shadow with what little light filters through the canopy of leaves overhead. Costello might be strong, very strong judging by the muscle underneath the thick layer of his fat, but I'm faster. He knows it and I know it.

I'm able to move, duck under his swiping arm, taking my own dagger with me and swiping my blade across his large belly. Red follows in a trail after the tip. Wind blows away the unruly hairs that won't stay back in my braid as Costello swings his flail over me, the large spiked ball swirling in the air. He misses by only a few inches and I know the next blow is likely not to do that again.

I need to finish this quickly. Is there really any other way? Bowing under his arm, I'm able to get behind him. He spins, a smile on his face as if he thinks himself already victorious. A shame for him, considering he's about to be dead at my feet in the next minute and a half.

I'm already lunging forward, my dagger pointed straight for the center of Costello's throat. The blade doesn't meet his neck, it only grazes his skin and the tuft of red hair sprouting from the center of his mostly bald head bounces as he laughs. An arm wraps around my waist. The cold edge of a sword presses against my neck.

If this had been any other day, I'd be dead. Maybe I am dead and I just haven't figured that part out yet? My head hasn't caught up to the rest of my body? Is that a thing? Probably.

"No thank you, Miss Nilsa." The familiar press of a body against mine, the dark sneer in his voice, the black hair tells me exactly who it is. Exactly which hate spewing Elf holds me so tightly against his strong chest.

"Jefferson. I would think you'd spend your time a little better than seeking me out again. I'm not sure this is the time or place for a romp in the woods. Don't you have more important tasks at hand?"

He hums a laugh that shakes through my body too. "Alas, it is not you that I'm worried about. It's my fucking brother who's about to ruin everything for me. I'm so glad that the you and Marcello have formed some sort of attachment. It works out quite well in my favor, actually. It's clear the poor guy has a soft spot for you, and I'm quite certain he isn't willing to lose yet another girlfriend."

I still hold my dagger in my hand and as Costello laughs along; I imagine stabbing it right into Jefferson's leg. As soon as I'd do that, his blade would be across my neck. I sigh a shallow breath. Where the fuck did Sloane go?

"I'd hate to make you feel as though this plan of yours is futile, but neither Marcello or I have claimed to be an item. In fact, I'm hardly fond of him at all."

Had she left me? Like a sacrifice? Or is she just biding her time?

Jefferson presses his cheek against mine and I can feel the slow spread of his smile. "You don't need to be fond of him for him to be utterly infatuated with you. He's always been a stupid hopeless romantic. Even that wisp of a Human, Lily was just as combative as you. Though I must say, he's upgraded seeing that you are much more skilled at protecting yourself then she was. Still, I'm certain you'll scream the same way in death as she had."

I'm not expecting that, the slightest slip of information I'd yet to be told. "Lily was Human?"

"Yes, a servant girl." the Elf kicks my feet forward, forcing me to walk within the circle of his arms. "He has a stupid fascination with your race. Not too unlike your gun welder? Or maybe he just likes them poor so they can worship at his riches. "

"Marcello is hardly like Hedda at all." And that could solely be because he already knows everything about Humans that he needs to.

"You would know," Jefferson sighs. "I'm not bringing you along for conversation, so you can just keep your mouth closed until I need you to scream for your man’s attention."

Saints. I hate that. The mere fact that I'm being reduced to catch the attention of some male. Well, not just any male, it's Marcello for crying out loud. It's been so long since anyone could use me as leverage against anyone else.

Costello lumbers through the forest ahead of us, his head rotating back and forth as his gaze sweeps the terrain. Another boom cracks through the air. Both Hybrids turn toward the noise.

"Don't worry. I've already sent a friend to go deal with that particular problem. As I'm sure the other teams have thought to do."

A new feeling makes me go taut. It brings with it a bitter taste on my tongue. It's fear, but the different sort, a new version of it that I extend toward my... my friend. Hedda will be fine. She's the one with the gun, of course! A third shot rings out. I hope they've all hit. I hope every pull of that trigger has been deadly. Three shots means she has seven left.

"Are you," I clear my throat suddenly raw, "not aware that you and Costello are on different teams?"

"Oh, we are very