Playboy Princes (Royals of Arbon Academy, #2)(2)

Whoops.

Still, there was no way in hell I’d be apologizing or explaining myself to my biggest tormentor at Arbon Academy.

I arched a brow at him and held steady eye contact. “Is killing against the rules in these fights? I didn’t get a handbook.”

If anything, his eyes just bugged out wider before a carefully neutral expression closed over his face. “It’s not,” Rafe admitted from behind clenched teeth, “but it creates a hell of a lot of trouble and the winner is required to clean up their own mess. I seriously doubt you’ve made the necessary connections here to handle a body disposal. Nor could you afford it.”

Ah yep, there he was. Arrogant, entitled prick.

He did kind of have a point, though. Body disposals were expensive, so I generally avoided killing my opponents to save my measly cash reserves.

“What do you care?” I snarled, not ready to calm down anytime soon. Beating the shit out of a nameless, faceless opponent had tempered my rage somewhat, but I was far from done. If Rafe wanted to fight, so fucking be it.

The cruelty in his glare as he curled his lip in a sneer said everything I needed to know. He wanted a real fight just as bad as I did.

“I don’t,” he spat back at me. “I’d have happily left you there to deal with your own mess. There would have been plenty of sleezebags willing to trade a cleanup for something other than cash, and I bet you’re no stranger to that kind of trade.”

Oh. Did he just call me a whore? That was cute.

Riding the manic high coursing through my veins, I laughed out loud. “Is that the best you’ve got, rich boy? Calling the orphan girl a whore? Oh, you’re so original. Remind me again how you’re managing to top your classes? It’s sure as shit not from your IQ.”

His brows dipped, and for a micro-second I saw through that infuriatingly blank face and spied outrage. But maybe that was my imagination.

“Listen, Cinderella, you—”

“Save it,” I cut him off, pushing myself back to my feet in an athletic flick of my hips. Okay, fine, I was showing off a bit. Sue me. “I need to get back there and find my blade. Unlike some I can’t just get a new weapon delivered to my door if I lose it.”

I made to push past him, but quickly found myself blocked by his huge body. Holy damn, he was big. Had I noticed that before? Ugh, I could see the edges of his ink curling up the side of his neck, peeking out of his black sweater. Why were the hot ones such awful bastards?

“You’re not going anywhere,” he growled, far too close for my liking. Despite not wanting to seem intimidated in any way, I took a step back. It was that or do something dumb, like sniff him.

Focusing on his words, not his body, I planted my fists on my hips. I ignored the still wet blood on them because it was all freaking over the rest of me too. “Oh yeah? You going to stop me, then?”

I had expected more of the same blank, bored stare from him—not the malicious smirk that pulled his lips up or the glitter of excitement in his eyes.

Oh shit.

“You’re damn right I am, Violence. Perhaps you were so lost in your bloodlust frenzy you didn’t notice, but the Swiss Guard found our tournament again. You’re not leaving here until Noles gets back with an all clear. Not that I particularly give a shit if you get executed for illegal use of weapons, but Mattie would have my balls for breakfast.” He lifted his chin and held my gaze with a clear challenge. “But if you want to fight me over it, I have no doubt I’ll win.”

Test my skills against the notorious Fallen Angel? Tempting. Oh so tempting.

I opened my mouth to tell him to give me his best shot, but my body took that opportunity to radiate pain and remind me of the fight I’d just been in the middle of. Yeah, I’d wiped the floor with that punk, but I hadn’t come off totally unscathed. In fact, I’d taken more hits than I normally would have because rage had made me blind to pain.

Damn it all to hell.

Damn Alex right to fucking hell.

“You want to tell me what has your panties in such a bunch you needed to beat that twat to death?” Rafe, observant as ever, seemed to sense where my thoughts had traveled.

Alex’s and Claudette’s voices still echoed through my head, and as badly as I wanted to offload all of that onto someone else, Rafe wasn’t that person. He’d just make fun of my naiveté for trusting Alex, and I was getting enough of that from myself.

“None of your business,” I snapped back, looking around me for the first time. “Where the hell did you bring me anyway?” We were in some kind of studio apartment, complete with a sitting area, kitchenette, three double beds, and an attached bathroom. I could just see the edge of the vanity through the open door. “Are we underground?” There were no windows, and the air had that slightly stale quality to it that suggested poor ventilation.

Rafe arched a brow, folding his arms over his chest and leaning his broad back against the door. What, did he think I was going to barge back there while Swiss Guards were hunting? Fuck that, I wasn’t an idiot.

“Yes,” he replied with a small incline of his head. “We’re safe here until the tunnels back to the academy are cleared.”

Okay… so we weren’t under the academy anymore. Interesting.

“And where is here?”

He gave a small shrug. “Just a safe location.” There was something cagey about the way he said that… and the three beds were tripping up the train of logic in my head.