Vengeance (The Prince's Games Book 1)

by Rebecca Grey

  Green serpents slip and slither over each other's bodies. Their pointed faces poke out for a heartbeat before another's body buries them in the pile. The walls. The fucking walls are made of snakes. The warning was laced in the announcer’s words, the serpentine maze.

  I hadn't thought about it then. I had been more worried about dealing with the Criosphinx with my bare hands and that Marcello had used my name for the entire team. Just like the monster at the entrance, the snakes reach for us, their fangs revealed in a long hiss before their jaws clamp down hard. I imagine my arm there, between its sharp teeth, and wonder if they are poisonous. Of course they are. This game is made to inflict death.

  A loud groan drags my attention away from the crawling walls. The Criosphinx pulls at the chains. Another long groan. He growls, but the noise isn't coming from behind his bared teeth. The sound comes from the metal anchored into the ground.

  Dirt starts to lift around the bolts the beast is chained to. The metal links start to stretch. I shuffle backward, moving in unison with the rest of my team.

  "That's not good," Juilliard whispers.

  "I thought you were supposed to be a genius. It doesn't take a genius to figure that out," I say.

  Sloane and Finnegan stay shoulder to shoulder, even as they move down the long hallway. None of us are able to tear our eyes away from disaster taking place in front of us.

  This had been the king. This had been his doing. I'm certain. And if I live through it, I'll read it off of the list of sins I'm mentally keeping for him. The list is growing long rather quickly, a testament to the hate that I harbor for him and all things he's helped create.

  "I'd love to chat and quiz Juilliard on his knowledge, but I think it—” A chain link snaps. The golden body of the Criosphinx lifts up on its back legs, looking more rabid now that it’s freed. "RUN!"

  That's all I need. That's all we, as a team, need.

  The halls for us to travel are wide enough, but the serpents have some of a reach. We form a messy single file line, sprinting with no real direction. The hall stops abruptly with the choice to move either left or right.

  Metal pings off of metal. A wild howl cuts through the air. Those large hammer-like fists pound into the ground. I don't have to look behind me to know. Not when I can see the reflection of the Criosphinx in Hedda's gaze as she turns to look at it. It bounces off the walls, the snakes biting into its flesh then letting go, but the creature is unbothered.

  "Go, go, go!" Marcello points to the right, shoving us forward, as he takes the last spot in line. His hand presses to my back, forcing me to move quicker than I think is humanly possible. I press my hand into Hedda but her brick-like weight feels much harder to move.

  The maze turns then turns again. One by one we skitter around the corners. Not only has our beast been let into the maze but at some point there is potential to run into an opponent. Though I know that could slow us down, I'm less worried about one of them trying to kill me than I am the thing wildly kicking up dirt over the top of the serpentine hedge as it runs.

  Sloane stops, Finnegan immediately after her. Juilliard slides into the Vampires, Hedda collapsing at his back and forcing a loud grunt out as she pushes the air from his lungs. I stop short of sandwiching Hedda and Marcello hovers behind me.

  "Dead end," Sloane shouts.

  "Shit," Juilliard huffs.

  "Well." I turn to Marcello. "Fearless leader, what do we do now that you've sent us down the wrong path?"

  I regret speaking the moment the words leave my lips. Something frantic travels over Marcello's features before a snarl and a screech tears apart the snakes to our left. Green shining scales fling in every direction. Round horns drive into Marcello's side.

  There's a loud crunch that I catch seconds after the impact has actually happened when Marcello's body is flung into the opposite wall of snakes. The serpents slow his fall as he slides to the ground. The familiar sense of panic as death comes so close anchors me to the ground. Horror seizes me.

  The Criosphinx turns on us. I press myself into Hedda who presses herself into Juilliard. I expect him to be the one to step up next. Is he not Marcello's next in command? Instead, Sloane and Finnegan push us aside.

  I let them. I don't like that I let them, it feels like a knock to my pride, but when the alternative is death...well, you'd let them help you too.

  "Try for the neck again?" Sloane asks her husband. Finnegan dips his head. When he does it, it's more of a regal bow than a nod.

  The Criosphinx grinds its large knuckles into the ground. When it breathes, dust scatters beneath it, its dark eyes flare. Davison's blood mats its fur at odd intervals acting as a dark reminder that the blood could easily be mine.

  Finnegan runs by it, faster than I can move, but not near as fast as I know he can. He's slowed his pace so that the monster can keep its attention fixed on him, I note. Smart.

  Finnegan’s mousy brown hair dips as he weaves away from the creature's face and horns, slamming his fist into its gut with a hiss as feral as the snakes around us. He pulls the creature's attention, allowing Sloane time to jump up to grab its horns. Like I had done... Like I had done and failed.

  The moment her slender form melts against the orange brown fur and her hands grasp the black horns, the beast twists. Its thin tail slings out like a whip cutting into the constantly shifting wall as it whirls around. More snakes fall. One crawls close enough that I stomp my foot down on its head before it can even think about it biting into my flesh. Its skull crunches under the force of my boot.

  Finnegan continues to throw fists and kick his heavy boots into the animal. Either hoping to distract or possibly knock the wind from its chest, I'd assume. None of his blows are deadly.

  Sloane is rocked against the beast as I was. Unlike the way my head wanted to wobble until it toppled from my body, Sloane’s is stiff. She's poised. Ready.

  Growling, the Criosphinx turns again. His hoof missing Marcello by an inch at best. It pulls both me and Juilliard back to reality.

  Marcello's eyes squeeze shut, his nose scrunches tightly. Snakes bite at his arms, his legs, none able to break the expensive materials. A fang digs into his earlobe. That bit of flesh isn't protected. Marcello grabs the small creature by the neck, ripping it away. Its tooth drags through the skin.

  Red blood drips off the end of his ear. He wheezes as Juilliard and I reach him. I slap a snake away. I might not like the idea of it biting and infecting me, but I've dealt with a reptile a time or two. Enough to not be shy about smacking it the hell away from a teammate.

  A hairy knuckled claw swings behind me. I push into Marcello to miss it and pull him back with me as soon as the beast moves away. Sloane's legs are straddling it now. Not its back. Not like I had. But it's neck.

  The powerful curve of her thighs is apparent through her pants. Every muscle clenching as she squeezes its neck. Aware of the pressure on its throat, the Criosphinx lifts a claw. With a good swipe of those razor-sharp claws, a powerful one, I wouldn't be surprised if it could lob off Sloane's entire leg if it gets the chance.

  Before the paw can reach his wife, Finnegan leaps, grabbing the beast’s ankle and dragging it back down to the ground. He rolls away at the last second to miss getting crushed under the animal's weight. A single nail clips the side of his torso, cutting through the fabric of his shirt like it's softened butter. A line of blood appears, but it doesn't slow the Vampire down.

  Marcello groans, holding his side. He blinks his eyes open, trying to push himself to his feet. Juilliard holds his back, keeping his friend upright. The most I can offer is my strength as I pull him up.

  "Where does it hurt?" I ask.

  An injury this early in the event can't mean anything good for us. Or it could mean that I've somehow underestimated the games. I know that every day here is deadly, yet I refuse to acknowledge the possibility of me actually dying.

  Death may come in a passing scary thought, but it's never truly real. I'm always holding out... ho
lding out hope that I’ll overcome it or be spared by one of the Hybrids stupid enough to work with me. Foolish line of thought.

  "I think it broke a couple ribs." His voice is soft, his mouth tight with pain. "Hurts. To. Breathe." Marcello forces himself to say.

  Juilliard wraps Marcello's arm around his shoulder, looking back up to the Vampires. Hedda backs away, giving us plenty of room. She's as good as one of the spectators in the fucking crowd.

  The Criosphinx’s movements slow. Its long snout opening and closing soundlessly as it's fight is drained from his body. Sloane holds his horns tight, letting out a grunt of effort as she jerks its head harshly to the left. A crack of bones snaps through the air.

  My body flinches at the noise, I pray no one notices the movement. I keep my eyes trained on the monster as its body crumples to the ground, its head lolling to the side at an unnatural angle. Sloane, with more grace than I could ever muster despite my years upon years of training, steps off of its back as if the fall was to deliver her to our level once more and not a thousand pounds of muscle mass crashing down to the earth. Finnegan stands with a shaky smile that suggests this might have been more luck than skill.

  Without the brash noises of the beast, there is only the hissing of the snakes as they try to reach us before they are swallowed back into the mass of the maze. Our gazes bounce off of one another until Juilliard is the one to speak up.

  "We should keep going. Go back the way we came and head down the other direction." He lowers his voice, directing the rest of his speech to Marcello only. "Healing will set the bones soon and you'll be able to finish the event. I can re-break and set them for you when we're out of this mess."

  Marcello nods his head. I step behind the pair as they start forward. Hedda still stares at the mass of skin, bone, and muscle on the ground. I hook my hand into her elbow and drag her along, able to recognize the startling realization that something might be out of your skill set.

  Hedda had helped push me out of my comfort zone, dressed me and made me look semi respectable for the party the evening before. The least I can do is get her through this goddamn maze.

  "Come on now, in together, out together. Or some other bullshit slogan we need to rally the team," I say.

  Hedda walks forward. Both of us watch the creature's chest to ensure that there isn't any rise or fall that would suggest that it could jump back up to standing and eat us as we pass.

  That thing... it doesn't just eat... it turns people to pulp. PULP.

  We travel in silence until we reach the first wrong turn we made. A new sound catches my attention, out of so many that fill the open air around us, including the screams of what I can only assume are other players. I lift my chin up to a ceiling that feels like it's miles above, still holding Hedda.

  I squint, the buzzing continuing. A black object overhead floats over the maze. A bird? Some sort of bug that will come down from its flight to sting us to death?

  "What is that?" I point with my free hand.

  Everyone looks up. Sloane and Finnegan even dare a wave of their hands. Marcello breathes heavy, starting to speak before Juilliard growls at him to shut up and looks over his shoulder at us.

  "Cameras. So the crowd can watch it on the screens built into the back of the seats to get a better view at what we are doing in here."

  I'm familiar with the term though in my years I have never seen one. People used cameras to take pictures and make films... like the old shows we would watch on repeat at the coven.

  "If you'd like to give the crowd a message, now's your time to shine." Sloane blows a kiss. Her 'fuck you' to the people that banished her is much sweeter than mine have and will ever be.

  I lift my middle finger up over my head, scowling. "For the king," I shout.

  Juilliard huffs out a breath, "She'll never learn."

  Then our small caravan is moving again. Hedda's shoulder bumps into me as we continue down the straight hall. After a moment, when we've turned another corner, she whispers.

  "Without my gun I am like you, Human." Hedda’s eyes are wide.

  "Hedda, you're stronger than me. If you wanted to, you could have probably knocked that thing out with a good right hook."

  "No." She shakes her head. "It was too fast. My strength makes me slow. It would have eaten my entire arm before I got the chance to try."

  Her confidence is shaken. Clearly so. But I'm not here to nurse her emotional wounds and cradle her until she feels capable again. I'm here to make sure we all get out alive. Most importantly that I get out alive.

  There's another turn coming up, but before we can approach a girl comes skittering into our view. She hardly gives us a glance before she's sprinting forward again. I try to remember her name, only coming up with the vague idea that she belongs to the team mostly made up of females. The Dryad.

  Juilliard continues forward, Sloane and Finnegan hot on his trail. He peers around the corner, Marcello straightening as if his pain is starting to lessen already. I hold Hedda tightly, nervous that if she gets the chance she'll bolt away and be lost forever.

  I need to see what lies ahead. Being prepared, knowing how to twist the element of surprise to my advantage is how I work. I myself though, do not enjoy surprises.

  When I press against the Vampires' backs, to see around the shining scales of the snakes, I watch as the girl finishes jumping over the large holes dug into the ground below her. When she leaps through the air an arrow flies. It clips the back of her swinging arm, marking her with a stripe of red blood. She hisses, but her boots land together on the end with two other teammates.

  The rest of her team eyes us from where they crouch in the pits dug into the ground. Their attention remains split on us and hoisting another girl up over the edge. She stays low on the small platform between that and the next hole to avoid the flying arrows, I assume.

  Marcello steps forward first. "Well, it seems our options are either over or under. Pick your poison."

  The other team whispers to each other as we approach. Our presence is just as deadly as having another monster appear. "Watch the other team for signs of foul play," I say quietly to Hedda, though her eyes are already narrowed.

  Under will leave us in the same position of helping each other just like half their team had. It doesn't look near as fast as going over, even with the risk of getting shot with an arrow. I'm ready for this to be finished, and by whatever means I want it done quickly.

  "I'm jumping," I announce quickly.

  "You'll risk the arrows?" Sloane coos in her perfect voice.

  "No." I drag Hedda up to the couple, leaving her beside them. If she flees or does something stupid, she's their problem now.

  Roughly, avoiding the snakes that jump out at me, I shoulder around my team. One serpent tries to reach for me as I pass, but Sloane's slender hand catches it midair. She hisses back at it and the creature visibly flinches away, crawling back into the wall as she lets it go.

  At the first hole, I stop. I look into the moving masses on either side, examining them for any sort of equipment set up within them that's shooting the arrows out. It's all got to be rigged up somehow...

  I pout as my Human vision fails me, too stubborn to ask any of the ones behind me to look, and pull my boot off. Pulling my arm over my head, I launch the boot over the three holes where I would intend for my body to be if I jumped.

  "Incoming!" I shout to the other team who's attempting to skitter into the third and final hole.

  The girls dart away from my shoe. The speed of their movements suggest they fear I've tossed some sort of grenade their way instead of my new boot filled with sweat. I chuckle as they scamper away.

  In the arch of my throw, I'd seen what I'd needed. The rest of my team did too. I point a finger. "The arrows shoot from there, there, and there. Avoid them."

  "What a new and brilliant idea!" Juilliard's sarcasm is heavy.

  "Who would like to go first and test my theory?" I spin.

  "Why not you?" Fin
negan says slowly.

  My lips press into a line before I speak. "I'm the scientist with the theory, not the test subject."

  Juilliard scoffs. Both Sloane and Finnegan laugh between themselves. Both Marcello and Hedda step forward. "I'll go." They say in unison, glancing back at each other in surprise.

  I scowl at Marcello. "Not you. You're hurt so that will impact my very first test. Hedda you go."

  The Orc doesn't wait for anyone to argue. She bounds by me. I can feel her heavy steps beat against the ground, the vibrations traveling up my legs.

  Before her, the other team tries to pause as she comes sprinting their direction. They watch her, trying to assess what sort of threat she is to them. I count their heads again, all six players stay standing. I wonder how they beat their Criosphinx?

  Hedda jumps. With the slightest puff of air, an arrow shoots. Hedda pulls her legs up to her chest midair, allowing the arrow to miss her legs. She lands loudly. Straightening her shoulders, she stands tall, but there is a nervous quake to her legs.

  She's passed the first one no problem. What about the next two? Both of her fists rise up into the air in triumph. Maybe this small victory will help her earn back her confidence after her helplessness had shaken her before.

  I've felt helpless a time or two myself. All I've learned is that you're never truly helpless. You can always do something, even if that something might be hard to do.

  "Jump again!" I holler.

  "Me next," Marcello interjects.

  "Yeah, yeah, and I'll round up the back."

  "Shouldn't you go somewhere in the middle so we can help you if you need it?" Juilliard the ever-present voice of reason adds.

  "Why would I need help?" I turn to look at him. Call me weak. Call me Human. Call me anything you like and it won't change my mind.

  "Let her do what she wants." Marcello pats his friend's arm. With one hand he strokes along his ribs with a grimace. At least each breath isn't causing him to whimper.