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

The dark underside of the ship, where the crew sleeps, smells like sweat and piss. I swear the hairs inside of my nose are burning away. Somehow, I'm the only one affected by the putrid air. Everyone else sits, content as can be, in a circle on the floor. I press my back against the wall and look over the top of my cards.

Hedda smiles lightly, holding her hand against her chest. Juilliard, next to her, stares down at his hand with a blank face. Of all of them, he probably has the best poker face. Too bad he has other tells that can be picked up on. Like the way that, when he has a good hand, he leans back a little bit to make it harder for anyone to see his cards. Or when he has a bad hand he starts to pick at his nails or folds his cards and holds them in his lap instead of staring them down. He must have a pretty good hand.

Both Sloane and Finnegan have chosen to share a hand. They're a tangle of limbs and giggles. Which doesn't necessarily mean anything, I've found. I'm not actually sure they know how to play this game. Between Juilliard and I, Marcello has a foot curled underneath him and one leg propped up. His arm is wrapped around his knee and he leans into himself, keeping his cards blocked from my view.

I toss a couple coins into the pot and look out the small window where I can see the outline of a city. The only thing keeping me in my seat is my need to win another game so that Marcello and I won't be tied for the most games won at this point. The land we're so close to… that's The Oasis. Another night has come and passed where I tossed and turned on that old mattress. With it some of my will to remain distant. That's the only explanation for how they talked me into playing with them at all.

I suppose the real joke is on them, because I've been watching Hybrids play for years. At this point I know all their tricks. Even joined a game or two with Joss around, just to make the other mercenaries shut the hell up.

My gaze is still drawn out the windows. I can feel how close to the city we are in my very bones. Electric and shining. Just sitting still is an effort. The sun shines off a mirrored building, so far away. Occasionally a boat floats by, blocking the view as we enter the bay. The cards are a distraction as much as they are supposed to be a team building exercise. I'm not sure how competing against one another is supposed to bring us closer. All it's done for me is helped me see their weaknesses, and their little ticks. Maybe that's what they've been looking for in me too.

"Captain Marcello, we are about to pull up to dock," one of the crew members calls down the stairs.

Marcello folds his hand and looks over his shoulder. When he turns back his face isn't a mask of boredom any longer, but an ear to ear grin. "Should we just say that I've won then?"

"What?" I sputter, nearly throwing my whole hand down. I manage to keep the cards still hidden and in my grasp, but only slightly as a few tip and tilt with the illusion they'll fall. "Why are we saying that you've won? I've done just as well as you."

"If it's so important to you, then I guess we can say that you've won." Tossing his cards into the middle, he scoots the small pile of coins toward me. We'd played with the meager amount of change to begin with.

Nope, I don't like that.

"I don't want a pity win!" But I do want the win. "Can't you admit that I'm playing better than you?"

"If you'd like that, yes." He stands and straightens his attire, taking the time to roll his sleeves so that his forearms are exposed.

I stare at his arms. I'm not sure if it's a Human weakness or just one of the general population, but there's something about a man’s forearms that's wildly sexy. I'd probably be more inclined to marvel at the perfection of his body a moment longer if the words he's saying didn't make me want to spit on his fancy boots.

"Stop saying 'if I'd like that'. Do you think I deserve to win?"

"Oh, I think everyone deserves to win, Nils." He smirks with only one half of his mouth.

"Wow, okay. Then let’s just say that everyone wins and split the money evenly." I set my hand down against the ground and start sorting out the coins into six little piles. It's only like five coins for each of us, not enough to buy anything worthwhile.

"Now you're thinking," he winks and heads for the stairs. He stops at the bottom step, spinning to face us. "I'll have the crew carry all of your bags into the hosting hotel. You'll all need to make it to your rooms, get changed and ready for the welcome party."

"No one told me I had to attend a party," I mutter, pushing the piles to everyone who's still sitting.

"Well I'm sure you'll look grand in an evening dress." Marcello deadpans before he takes the stairs two at a time and disappears to the top of the deck.

"This party will be good for you, I think." Juilliard pockets his change and snatches up the pile meant for Marcello too. I won’t be surprised if he keeps both for himself. "Once we enter, everyone is protected under the order of the king. That means no tasting," he looks at Sloane and Finnegan, "no attempts at sabotaging another team before we've even begun. Now once the games commence, free reign. But