Vengeance (The Prince's Games Book 1)

by Rebecca Grey

  His hand slips from under my jaw. There aren't goosebumps left behind his touch, the errant thought comes and passes too quickly. "My name is Davison." I take another step away. "I'll see you inside?"

  "You'll see me inside." I nod, still smiling, and the crowd consumes me. Hybrids pass between Davison and I again until we're two lonely Humans lost in The Oasis again.

  I'm not alone. I'm not alone. I was never alone, just far away. That thought makes the world, our entire continent, feel so much bigger than I ever imagined it. Had Davison been here in The Oasis this whole time? How? How did he get into The Oasis to begin with?

  "Find a friend?" Marcello tilts his head.

  "Find a Human?" Juilliard mocks.

  Looking around them, only Hedda still waits. "No Finnegan or Sloane?" I ask.

  "I'm leaving instructions with the guards. If they come show up and try and get in, someone will come find me." Marcello inclines his head to the man and starts leading us into the building.

  "And they'll actually do that? We don't need to start this game already down two team members."

  "I'm sure they'll show up," Marcello quips.

  Maybe I want to say something back. Maybe I want to suggest that his faith in a couple he hardly knows is foolish, but the words are gone in an instant. The doors lead us into a large open lobby that reveals the gold and white railings that run along every single floor leading up to the ceiling where a thousand chandeliers hang like a million diamonds embedded in the sky.

  Even the walls gleam with a polished gloss that makes them look wet. Marcello and Juilliard's boots, a much higher quality than mine, click against the marbled flooring. There's a long desk that runs across the entire back wall where short lines form and people exit to their left to the clear tubes that carry them to the floors above. I watch as the platforms inside the tubes carry some up, some down.

  "What are those?" I incline my head to the tall shafts to avoid looking like a fool from The Bend who's never seen anything... truly anything... I'm quickly realizing.

  "That's an elevator," Juilliard chimes. "So you don't have to take the stairs."

  I snort. I’ve heard of those, but the empty shafts in The Bend are nothing compared to these…

  "Well that seems awfully lazy, considering we're getting ready to compete in a physical competition." I crinkle my nose. We stop at the end of a small line waiting to get to the desk.

  "You'll be glad for them after your body is so tired you can hardly stand, much less walk back to your room after tonight."

  As if I've never drug my body up the stairs to my apartment, used the railing to hold me and my arms to hoist myself up all while I was bleeding profusely. Hybrids are weak as shit.

  A man, partially covered in fur as if mid transition to wolf, steps out of line with keys in his hand and makes space for us at the counter. Marcello grips the edge of the desk, smirking at the pretty red-haired Vampire who eyes him as he whispers to her. Her lipstick painted mouth parts as she laughs at something probably disgustingly flirty he says and she holds another set of keys up. She takes her time letting them go as their hands touch. When he closes his fingers around the key and she looks back at us, her smile falls.

  "You have an hour before the welcome celebration begins. Ballroom is located on the third floor," she calls, only smiling when Marcello's watching. He thanks her and tosses the keys in the air, catching them swiftly again and again.

  "Want to see our room?" He dangles the keys in my face and hooks his arm around Juilliard's neck, dragging him with us to the elevator. "Isn't this exciting?" He shakes his friend.

  "Wait," I hurry after them, Hedda at my side. Hedda hardly speaks as her large eyes continue to take everything in. I doubt she's seen anything as grand as this, just as I haven't. "Our room?"

  "We share a space as a team." We push through the throngs of creatures until Marcello throws his arm in a closing elevator door. I flinch, thinking it'll get caught or slam shut on him, but the door simply stops and opens back up for us. We file inside. Our bodies are so close we're constantly brushing against one another so I have no room to put space between Marcello and I as he looks down at me. "You'll have your own room, for sleeping, for changing, but we will share the living space for meals and relaxing. Until the Games actually start. If you get lonely, I’m not far away." He winks.

  The elevator doors close and the ground floor falls away from view outside of the clear walls that surround us. My stomach drops, staying behind as we rise. In seconds, we come to a full stop and the smallest dinging noise chimes before the door opens back up.

  "This is us. Fifth floor." Marcello points us out and down the hallway.

  The marvelous construction of the building did not end on the first floor. Even here a lush red carpet without stains or tears covers the floor and the walls are still glistening. Maybe the entire building is made from pure gold. To be sure, I run a finger against the wall as I follow the small group. Smooth, an almost impossibly silky texture meets my fingertip and I can hardly believe it.

  The awe I'd walked in with starts to wash away. It disappears completely when Marcello stops at the first door and we enter our luxurious living space. Here in The Oasis they have all this while in The Bend most aren't even sure when or where they'll get their next meal. Most weeks I'm struggling to pay my own rent for a building that's falling down around me.

  What did the Hybrids on this side of the wall do to deserve a life where riches are handed to them? What did we do on the other side to be deprived of all these good things? Saints, I can’t stop questioning. I can’t stop.

  I should feel lucky. I should feel thankful or blessed or some other form of fucking gratitude. But all there is inside me is an ocean of anger and bitterness as I look out over the large overstuffed couches and marble countertops of the kitchen beyond.

  The keys scratch against a small table inside the door as Marcello sets them down. The carpet ruffles under my shoes as I drag my feet across the floor, barely making it inside before my legs stop moving all together. All I can do is stare. Stare and let the steam of anger rise up off my skin.

  No one notices the shift in my demeanor. Or perhaps they do, but they don't question it this time. Or it could very well be that this sort of anger isn't too far off from my regular everyday anger.

  "Three rooms. Two per room." Marcello points to the three closed doors off to the side of the room. "Me and Juilliard, Finnegan and Sloane, then Nilsa and Hedda."

  "I get to room with the Human for the night!" Hedda claps her hands and opens the first room. "Woah, these are nice."

  "They’re too nice," I say quietly and mostly to myself.

  "Each room has its own bathroom," Juilliard adds. "You could use a shower. Do you know what a shower is Human, or do you need that need explained too?"

  I send him daggers with my eyes, Marcello jumping in before I can argue. "Everyone needs to grab our bags and get cleaned up for the party tonight. This is the time we can let loose, have a little fun before we get too serious." Something mischievous dances in that daring gaze of his. What does he have planned? We can only be left to wonder until this evening, I guess.

  In front of the living space all of our bags, my trunk included, are stacked and waiting. Sweeping an arm over the top, I send all of the bags above mine into a heap on the floor. I grab the nearest handle and heave it toward the room Hedda claimed. The trunk is so heavy I damn near grunt when I pull on it but I’m somehow able to contain myself as it scrapes the carpet behind me.

  "Would you like some help?" Marcello asks as Juilliard scowls and picks his own bag out of the heap I made.

  "No." I tug a little harder. "If I'm good enough to compete in these games, I'm sure as fuck strong enough to carry my own suitcase into my room. It's packed with all sorts of weapons." I add the last bit because I'm certain that has to be why it weighs so stinking much, even though I have yet to go through the items in the trunk.

  "Okay," he snickers as he scoops up
his luggage and heads in the same direction as his friend. I glare at his back, knowing that if they take the room across the way that Hedda and I will be sharing a wall with Finnegan and Sloane.

  "Wouldn't you like the room next to us?" I speak up. There would be even less sleep between Hedda's questions and Finnegan and Sloane bumping uglies next to us.

  "Why, so you can sneak into our room?" Marcello turns so he can walk backwards and keep eye contact with me. His lips tease at a smile and it makes a fraction of the frustration that always lives inside of me dissolve. The simple boyish flirting in the tone of his question wakes a part of me that doesn’t often get shown. Suddenly, I’m wanting to flirt back and get swept up in the game of it.

  I return his look with a sly smile of my own. "So it will be easier for me to sneak over and stab you in the middle of the night, obviously." I look around him to Juilliard. “Your friend should watch his back too.”

  Marcello bites his lip, chuckling behind his teeth. He laughs harder when he sees the way Juilliard’s face has fallen into an annoyed glare pointed at me. I suppose knocking his bags off mine had been childish. But the threat is simply a warning.

  Hedda, disregarding her bags, is already leaning into the doorway. Her stumpy round fingers slip around my collar, helping to tug me out of the living room into our shared room. Juilliard laughs with Marcello as they disappear into their room across the lavish living space. The moment I can't see them any longer and I'm technically inside of the room, I drop the trunk.

  Our personal area is almost as large as the living space, with two king-size mattresses pressed on one wall. Each with their own assortment of pillows and decorative pictures above the headboards. I try not to look at it too much. Try not to give the war inside of me too much power. I want to rip this room to shreds just as much as I want to relax on the velvet armchairs to my left. I sigh, heavily.

  "When you shower, do you shed your skin?" Hedda cocks her head.

  "What?"

  "When you shower—”

  "Stop," I raise a hand to stop her. "I heard you, I'm just confused why you would ask a fucking stupid question like that?"

  "Don't you shed skin like that all the time?"

  "Like a snake? No. I imagine I'll scuff off some dry skin, but not so much it’s really visible. Are these the type of questions I can expect from you?" I untie my cloak, tossing it on the bed I'm claiming as my own and head to the open bathroom door.

  "Will it hurt when you take off the dead skin?" Hedda props herself on the edge of her bed, undoing the clasps of a long, large hard-shell piece of baggage. She lifts out a bolt action sniper rifle and points it down to the floor, running a finger along its barrel.

  "Does your skin not flake off when it gets dry or dead?"

  "Not particularly. No, not that I've noticed."

  The issue is that I don't take Hedda as someone who notices all that much. She's not a fumbling idiot by any means and I know she's particular about some things, like her business. Other things that to her seem more trivial, don't get any notice at all. That’s not even to add that Orcs are the most scaly, dry, looking creatures I've ever seen.

  Next to some of the Merfolk, that is. You would think that creatures that mainly reside in the waters would be well hydrated. They're not. They have these rough fish-like scales with a metallic shine to them that hang off their bodies at every odd angle. If you touch them too roughly, the scales will fall right off of them. I wish to the Saints that I am joking about that right now, but it's the Saints-awful truth.

  Worse than the Merfolk though is any other half-beast thing. Hybrids that share blood with everyday beasts. I'm talking Werewolves or Centaurs. Can't forget about Fauns either. Even less common Hybrids, and that’s probably because they're too stupid to survive. Merfolk may shed their skin all too easily, but the fucking half-n-half Human beast things, they're dumber than an entire box of rocks.

  Sadly, this is the problem with me, though I'm not sure I can really call it a problem. So let me rephrase that. Funny enough, others might perceive my abilities to always find some other Hybrid more grotesque than another in one way or another as negative, on the contrary though, I find this ability to be realistic. Useful even.

  I stare back at Hedda with nothing else to add to the conversation and unlace my boots. The salty scent of sweat immediately drifts up to me and I know Juilliard wasn't lying when he suggested that I run to take a shower. When I stand I have to glance back at the bed to be certain that I haven't left behind a ring of dirt. The gray comforter remains without proof of my presence on it except for a few wrinkles here and there.

  Every time my thin socks press into the tiled floors I can feel how wet with sweat they truly are. Each step leaves behind the faintest impression of my footprints on the gloss of the tile if the light hits it just right. I'm thankful to leave behind my conversation with Hedda, closing the bathroom door quickly before she can ask some other ridiculous question. My fingers twist on the lock and I test the door to make sure that it works. To my surprise it does. Most every door has a lock on it. Not many are actually functioning in my experience.

  Every inhale and exhale repeats in the large open bathroom. Centered in the middle of the room is what I would consider a small pool set a few steps down into the floor. Water trickles down into it like raindrops from a faucet that hangs from the ceiling. It's all very relaxing and totally over the top. Is this really necessary? Would a simple shower or regular sized tub not work? I guess for larger Hybrids, a pool like this would be helpful.

  Towels hang along the wall behind the calm waiting waters. Next to that a sink presses against a wall entirely made of mirrors where I can see my dirt streaked cheeks and how pathetic I look against the lavish expense of the room itself. A small vase of purple flowers sits on the counter, adding to the overall refreshing scent.

  I watch myself undress. Watch as my fingers work at the buttons of my vest and the top of my leather pants. Both garments stay stiff, holding the curve of my body, even after I peel them away from my skin. If I run my fingers along my torso, I can count my ribs over every ridge where they protrude. My stomach is minimally sunken in. With the Elves, I've had more regular meals than an average day. The only proof that something good is coming from this thus far. Maybe I'll finally be able to fill out.

  Without any clothing, the humidity clings to me, keeping me warm until I turn from my wasted image and start down the steps into the pool. Hot soapy water crawls up my legs and settles just below my chest when I stop dead center. Droplets rain down on me running down my cheeks. They feel so much like tears, I start to wipe them from my face.

  I can't... I can't even enjoy this, I realize. Deep down I know I deserve this. I deserve the life that everyone on this side of the wall has been given. But I also deserve my own chance at dying. I've done so much wrong. I've enjoyed every moment of bad. It's only fair that the Hybrids get their chance to kill me now.

  It's what's so wrong about me spending any sort of time with this team of mine. They all feel like they do indeed have a little bit of humanity in them. Sometimes more humanity than I myself contain. Nausea riots inside my stomach as I refuse to believe it.

  With a deep breath, I lower myself into the water, letting it cover my head. I scratch and scrub at my skin until my lungs burn. Even then, I stay under until I can't contain the air anymore and bubbles pass from my lips. I gasp for air as I break the surface. My hair clings to my neck and back.

  A knock interrupts the quiet. Not just one knock a trillion rapid knocks.

  "Nilsa. Are you okay in there? It's been an awfully long time. You haven't drowned, have you? Do I need to break down this door? Is it taking a long time to scrub away all the dead skin?" Hedda calls between each repetitive bang of the door.

  "Hedda!" I snap. "I'm fine. I'm getting out now."

  "Oh, very good. Very good. I'd hate for our Human to die on my watch."

  My eyes sting with the need to cry, though I'm not sure why and I'm
certain I won't allow myself. The tight pit of guilt in my stomach tenses, knowing that while I'm living in this brief moment of luxury, everyone else in The Bend is living in squalor. I get to be here and every other Human is hiding, fighting for their life. If they even exist at all.

  My mind wanders to Davison as I step out of the tub and wrap myself up with a towel. All of my skin is red and striped with the marks my nails made as I scrubbed and scrubbed some more. Water trails me on the floor, leaving a line of puddles behind. I don't bother with my clothes as I make my way to the door.

  I twist the lock and it clicks loudly. The knob turns before I actually move it myself, the door swinging open. Hedda stands on the other side, blinking at me with her gaze that always seems to eat me up.

  "Excuse you, Hedda." I brush past her, hit with the rush of unheated air. "That eager to see what my skin looks like now?"

  "Are you going to be mean to me if I say yes?" She places her hands against her wide hips, stepping back into the bathroom and into a puddle I've left behind.

  "Probably."

  "You know, Human," she starts and I can tell by her tone that I don't want to listen. I try not to, even as I head for my trunk and snap the clasps open. "You can drop your guard now. We all like you, even if you don't have anything nice to say."

  We all like you. Now she's openly lying and mocking me? I'm supposed to just take her word for it. "If I drop my guard, I die," I say quietly, mainly to myself, mainly for reassurance.

  "I'm just saying that maybe if you try to get to know us, or maybe if you let us get to know you, you'd have a little fun. And that's what tonight is for." She keeps talking, but the buzzing in my ears drowns her out. Hedda closes the door to the bathroom with her on the other side, but she's still yapping away.

  Water drips down my legs as I look down at my trunk. A small fire of anticipation builds inside of me as I imagine what sort of weapons Genovese has packed for me. Big ones, small ones, brand new ones that work flawlessly every time? Maybe he was even able to procure a gun with ammo like Hedda? It's the one thing I've been looking forward to. I'm opening the trunk to find an outfit, but I'm excited for anything but the clothes.