The Gender War (The Gender Game #4) Bella Forrest (best summer reads .txt) 📖

my hand to the table, the silver point still buried in my throbbing palm.

“Pull it out,” I begged.

Tabitha gave me a pensive look, and then tapped on the knife, sending fresh hot waves of pain up my arm that manifested themselves in another scream from my throat.

When I became aware of the room again, it felt intangible—like I was both there and in another place, completely wrapped in pain. Tabitha was watching me closely, her eyes calculating.

She lifted her hand again, and I felt myself torn between begging her to stop and promising to kill her.

It didn’t matter, because a knock sounded on the door and made both of us freeze. Tabitha frowned, and then crossed to the door, throwing it open. Desmond stood on the other side, an apologetic look on her face.

“I’m sorry, Princess,” she said. “Elena needs you now. Something has come up.”

Tabitha let out an irritated tsk, but then nodded, stepping through the door without looking back, as if she hadn’t just been in the middle of butterflying my hand. “Leave her like that,” she called out, as an afterthought, and Desmond threw me a pitying glance before closing the door.

I rested my head against the wood of the table, trying not to move my shaking body for fear of causing myself more pain.

“Viggo, if you get here and save me,” I whispered, “I will give you this save for free.”

3

Viggo

I was going crazy trying to find Violet.

I had followed Owen’s instructions, leaving the prison and going upstairs, toward the wings apparently devoted to the royal family. I’d emerged from what seemed to be the servants’ stairs into a small corridor off the main hallway. But this place was a maze—halls that bisected halls, stairs hidden behind doors—and the décor was always the same. Not to mention there were guards everywhere. I had nearly been caught twice, and had managed to save myself both times by darting behind one of the identical curtained alcoves that seemed to be everywhere. Still, the number of guards prowling these halls gave me a reason to hope—there wouldn’t be this many unless they were guarding someone important, and that meant the queen. Which also meant, I hoped, that Violet was in one of these rooms.

I carefully pushed open a door and peered inside, trying not to feel disappointed when I found yet another servants’ closet, devoid of the dark-haired, gray-eyed girl who had come to mean so much to me in such a short period of time. I was slowly pulling the door closed when I heard footsteps approaching from one of the adjoining hallways.

I retreated down the hall, ducking behind yet another velvet curtain concealing what someone might have thought was a charming cushioned seat under a high window. I sat and pulled my feet up onto the bench. I had to wonder about the functionality of the stupid things—they seemed only suitable for people who were sneaking around or looking for a good make-out spot. Either way, it seemed like an unnecessary and impractical design feature. Maybe there were such swarms of guards here that nobody expected an enemy to get so far into the palace.

I was beginning to make out voices from within my cocoon of shadows, and I carefully pulled back the heavy brocade fabric, turning my ear toward the sound.

A low, irate female voice snapped, “What the hell is going on? I was just getting started, and I—”

“Mr. Croft has escaped and is clearly wandering around the palace,” came a clipped, authoritative voice, interrupting the first. “I’m sorry to pull you out, but I need you, my Head of Wardens, to arrange the search to get him back to his cell… What do you think people will say about my new minister if Patrians are allowed to go free in these halls? I’d hate to see my own sister lose her credibility so quickly after gaining the position.”

I chanced leaning my head toward the curtains, just enough so I could peer out of the small gap. As I watched, a perfectly coifed, golden-haired woman strode past, her crown gleaming under the bright white lights overhead—Queen Elena. Another woman with similar facial features was with her, but looking at the two was like comparing oil and water; the second woman was big, thick, and all of it was muscle.

It had to be a result of Mr. Jenks’ genetic modifications. We had learned that Queen Rina had allowed her own children to be the test subjects, but we didn’t have much information beyond that. Most of the information regarding them had been destroyed.

The two paused just beyond my alcove, and I could see them turning toward each other.

The muscular woman made a growling sound, crossing her arms. “I get it, I get it. I’ll look for him. Have you determined where the egg is?”

Elena shook her head. “Not exactly, but Desmond is confident that the only way they could beat her operative to the temple is by going downriver. They’ve only ever used one captain—an elderly Patrian man. I suspect we will find the egg and the two missing boys with him.”

The other woman scoffed, crossing her arms. “We should just kill them—it’s clear that Desmond will never be able to win their loyalty.”

My throat dried out. They were going to get to the river before we did. Owen had better have found a way to contact Alejandro. I had to believe it.

“It is foolish to underestimate Desmond’s ability to get people to do what she wants, Tabitha,” Elena chided. “Anyway, it’ll soon be over. Mr. Jenks’ team is on standby. When we recover the egg, you and I will be mothers of the next generation.”

Tabitha groaned, and Elena gave her a sharp look. Tabitha looked back at her for a moment, and then shrugged. “What? I’m not looking forward to pregnancy—it seems disgusting.”

“Would you rather not? I’m sure our lovely sister Carla would be more than happy to take your place.” Even