Page 17 of The Kings
The name rolls off his tongue, and I turn in my seat in Medieval History to meet the gaze of Ryan Hargreaves—the youngest son of the Hargreaves clan and notorious for his silver tongue and steel fists. A rival, yes, but also devilishly charming.
“Ryan,” I acknowledge, my voice neutral.
“This isn’t a game.” He leans closer, his blue eyes intense.
“Isn’t it?” I counter, keeping my composure. “And here I thought we were all just playing our parts.”
“Watch your back,” he warns before rising and disappearing out of the lecture hall.
As I turn back to my textbook, weirdly staring down at a picture of Elizabeth Bathory, The Blood Countess, a ripple goes over my flesh, and I look up to see James stride in and take the seat next to me with that slow smile of his.
“Countess,” he murmurs.
Deciding to play with the fires he’s holding, I lean forward. “You’d like to see me bathed in the blood of innocents, wouldn’t you?”
His eyes heat up, sending rockets of lust straight to my clit. “Who knows, maybe I’ll be the one to bathe you.”
“You’re a dark horse, aren’t you?” I state in a normal tone with a smile that definitely tells him I wouldn’t say no to his offer.
“Maybe.”
Our conversation is cut off as the Professor starts droning on, but I make a mental note to ask him about this North Castle meeting after the lecture.
But he’s gone before I’ve even packed up an hour later, ducking out and disappearing into the crowd of students. It doesn’t matter; I’ll catch up with him later. I slip out of the lecture hall, a ghost among shadows. The murmur of conversation cuts off as I appear like they’re trying to keep a secret.
Fucking idiots.
“Connor,” I acknowledge the guy who steps up in front of me with a sly smile. “How’s your dad?”
“Better, thanks for asking.”
“Anytime.
“Listen, I can’t say much,” he admits, casting a wary glance around. “But we’ve known each other since we learned how to walk. Be ready for anything. Castle’s about to get a whole lot more interesting.”
“Vague much?” I mutter, rolling my eyes.
“Guess you’ll have to figure it out, won’t you?” he teases, turning to leave. “But watch your back, Eliza. Not everyone’s as charmed by you as I am.” He saunters away as I follow him withnarrowed eyes. It appears little alliances are forming. There are those who want to be my friend and those who definitely don’t.
But this is good. It’s weeding out the fuckers who I need to take down.
I don’t have time for this cat-and-mouse bullshit. I need action.
10
ELIZA
Midnight looms,and I’m pacing my room like a caged animal, the second hand on the clock ticking away.
Tonight’s meeting could shift everything—power, control—all poised on a knife’s edge.
“Fuck it,” I mutter. I can’t do this alone. Not tonight. I don’t know these players, and everything my dad taught me to hone is screaming at me that this is a trap. But whether it is a trap or test, my best move is to take back up right now. It’s smart, and I’m not afraid to ask for help.
But who?
No way am I going to Raphael. He can swivel for being a major pain in my ass. Out of Tarquin, James and Oliver, I feel the closest to Tarquin after our little whatever the fuck it was last night.
Decided, I stalk down the hallway. Reaching Tarquin’s door, I don’t hesitate, rapping sharply on the wood. He opens it immediately, as though he’s been waiting for me, his baby blues eyes assessing me inquisitively.
