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

Scraping softly against the sand we glide through the shallowest waters until we stop fixed in the coast. Juilliard stands first, me only a second behind him. Where our arms have repeatedly brushed is warm, and I can already tell the stale smell of smoke is rubbing off on me.

Water splashes around our boots as we all step out of the boat and kick through the last few inches of salty foam. Marcello grabs the front of the boat and drags it further onto the shore, tossing the paddles back down in the bottom.

I stand with my arms against my hips, staring up the large hill to our left. "Is that house where they reside?"

"Yes," Marcello nods and strolls past us all. The hill is lined with a dirt path along its edge where the growth of tall grasses stop. Insects chirp within the twist of brush and vines.

Hedda is the first to follow. She looks happily oblivious to the steep incline of the hill and the nearness of the path to the sudden drop. Juilliard glances back at me with a sigh, then starts up the hill too. I stand watching their backs, wondering if I should make a break back to the ship without them. The farther they get in front of me the more I feel the need to catch up.

"Shit," I growl to myself as I jog forward. Dust off the trail clouds around my shuffling steps and my hand falls to hold one of my daggers against my skin. The other drums softly with every bounce of my body. I stop when I pass Juilliard and Hedda to slow at Marcello's side.

"Thought you might choose to stand on the beach all day long," he laughs.

"Why would I stay there when I could be here with all of you?" The sarcasm in my voice is heavy and makes Marcello hum as his tongue runs over his lips.

My calves start to burn almost immediately as the incline of the hill spikes upward. Fog moseys in between us and the cabin. It strings between us, sometimes so thick I can feel the moisture of it clinging to my skin and beading on my eyelashes.

"It may come as a shock when we knock on their door. They've lived in solitude for years and I doubt anyone else has ventured here, not if they knew what was good for them," Marcello says.

Hedda and Juilliard are only a few yards behind us, talking quietly. I can only imagine what sort of conversation the Orc and the Elf are carrying. Marcello follows my gaze.

"Be glad that's not you. Hedda's been waiting for the opportunity to pick your brain. She loves Human things and now she has her very own Human at her disposal."

"That makes it sound as if she owns me. I'm not at her disposal. I'm barely here." I take a large step and push my arms against my thighs to help me hoist myself up.

"Why are you here?" Marcello arches a brow.

"Who says I need a reason other than the idea that at some point I'll be able to make good on my last job and finally go through with killing you, like you seem to be so concerned about?" I look at him from the corner of my eyes.

"The riches don't entice you?"

"I'm just petty like that." I shrug. The riches would be nice, a particularly good bonus if we actually won, but it's the power I long for. Or rather the shift in power. My own shot at becoming something other than one of the last Humans roaming in this terrible world.

"I don't think you're petty."

Now it's my turn to laugh. "No?" He's so wrong. I'm a petty bitch. And petty bitches run the world. "Well you can't be right about everything."

"I think that you're hurt."

Saints, we have too much more climbing of this stupid damn hill for Marcello to be trying to make this conversation more than I'd ever wanted it to be. I clamp my mouth shut.

"I think this life hasn't been so kind to you, so you lash back out at it with every chance you get."

"Yeah? And what about you?" I snap at him, breathing heavier as the air grows thinner and my body tires. It's a tired I could work through, though. I've fought through fatigue many times before and I'll do it now. "Are you hurt? What could be so bad in your lush life in The Oasis where everything is perfect and everyone shits butterflies and damn rainbows?"

"You can't push me away like you push everyone else away. I won't allow it. I'm too stubborn."

"Marcello, I've known you for less than a week, we aren't fucking friends. It might be hard to accept, but not everyone is waiting to fall at your feet and worship you. Particularly me." I try and count the steps between us and the cabin. I try and equate that into minutes. How long will I have to endure this conversation? I could always fall back and talk to Hedda or Juilliard... but that doesn't seem enjoyable either, so I keep my pace.

"While I find that most people find me charming and utterly Saint-like in appearance, you'd be surprised how many aren't that fond of me. I'm no stranger to rejection, Nilsa."

I stick out my bottom lip in a mocking pout. "Did a girl break your heart?"

"No." His smile falters. "My father did."

What he says shocks me. It makes my feet drag a little bit more as I lose focus on forcing myself to keep climbing. Hybrids like Juilliard... Hybrids like Marcello... I'd never met any that were so open about the things that make them feel more Human. It's in all of their blood. Every time they talk like this... like they can relate to me...a rush of