The Gender Game 2 by Bella Forrest (positive books to read txt) 📗

the time I reached the bottom, but I had memorized the placement of the last two branches, and luckily my spatial reasoning and depth perception were decent. As soon as my feet crunched to the ground, I immediately swung the bag around, my finger searching blindly for the flashlight. The sounds of The Green seemed louder in the dark, each hiss and animal cry sounding like it was coming from directly behind me.

My fingers found the cold grated metal of the flashlight, and I turned it on as I pulled it out, shining the light all around.

Immediately, the sounds around me lessened as the shier nocturnal creatures moved away from the light. My knees gave way with relief and exhaustion and I dropped to the ground, rolling until the tree was against my back.

I could feel sleep trying to claim me, the earlier exhaustion of the whole Lee nightmare coupled with the physical exhaustion of getting down the tree both working together to make my body feel disjointed, like a poorly stitched doll.

I fought it tooth and nail, reaching into the bag clumsily, and pulling things out, scattering several items across the mossy ground. I saw the silver egg roll by. My eyelids drooping, I clumsily reached to grab it, tucking it into my lap while my other hand groped for the aerosol container.

It seemed to take forever for me to compress the canister, and even after I did so, all I did was make a few half-hearted passes with it over the ground around me and the trunk behind me, before my muscles went slack, and I was pulled into unconsciousness.

I woke some time later, my body jerking upright, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. It was still dark, and I was still tired, but something had forced me to wake up. I picked up the flashlight with shaking hands, and scanned the clearing. What had roused me? Did I hear something?

The ever-prevalent mist clung to the ground, roiling about. I could only see a few feet in front of me, and every shadow cast by the flashlight was causing me to jump, my worry deepening.

My heart was pounding so hard; I could feel it in my throat. There was something out there, something that I wasn’t seeing, and my mind was screaming for me to run. But I forced myself to keep still, to steady my breathing.

For a second, I thought about the Benuxupane in the bag—the white pills that would keep me from feeling my emotions, but I disregarded the idea. My instincts were warning me of danger. If I took another dose of King Maxen’s pills, it might soothe me too much.

So, I forced myself to be calm, focusing on slowing my haggard breaths while continuing to scan the mist.

It took a minute for me to respire normally and once I did, I became aware of what had woken me up. A low buzzing sound… a sound that seemed to be growing louder. Closer. Panic surged in me again, as I realized that the red flies were coming.

5

Viggo

I whirled around the bannister as I fired. The motion caused my shot to go astray, but I avoided the bullet that lodged itself in the wall behind me by doing so. The Porteque man fired a few more shots, and I squatted down, counting his bullets. He was three down.

I heard him scrambling across the floor, likely toward the kitchen to take cover by the cabinets. I crept down a few more stairs until I could see into the kitchen, and risked a glance to confirm his destination. Then I leveled my gun, waiting—patience and cover were the two things stressed during gun training.

The second I saw a flash of his black cap, I squeezed the trigger. He ducked down before the bullet hit, causing it to shoot into the glass counter behind him and cover him with shards. I heard him curse, and remained still, my arms outstretched, waiting for him to reappear.

Just then, the front door flew open to my left. I ducked back just in time to avoid bullets fired from two men appearing in the doorway.

“Are you all right?” one of them shouted, and I heard the man in the kitchen grunt in the affirmative.

I was outnumbered and outgunned. I had the advantage of an elevated position, but I needed to decide on my best strategy.

I chose to bluff first. “I am a warden of King Maxen on special assignment,” I boomed down. “There are more wardens coming. If you don’t relinquish your arms, they will shoot you down.”

One of the men in the doorway laughed. “No they’re not,” he called up. “I watched as you arrived here, and in the twenty minutes you’ve been here, ain’t nobody showed. You’re lying.”

I cursed internally.

“What do you want?” I asked, already sensing the answer.

“We’re here for that bitch who calls herself a woman. She’s a murderer!” There was a sound of flesh hitting flesh, followed by a curse and some harsh whispers. I grinned grimly, realizing that one of them had said a little too much. I waited for the whispers to settle down.

“That’s why I’m here too,” I said. “You’re right, she is a murderer, and I’m bringing her to justice.” It irritated me that my chest constricted as I said the words—I pushed it aside. She is a murderer. Get used to it.

There was a long pause. “Is that right?” the man from the kitchen shouted.

I paused, wondering if any of these men had been present, and seen my face, when I’d rescued Violet from Porteque. If they had, they would likely think I was lying to protect her, though I had no real intention of calling a truce with the men of Porteque. Patrus was harsh on women, but not as harsh as these men were: They would torture any woman they deemed “unwomanly” until they broke them. At least in Patrus, women were given a quick