A Game of Hearts and Heists: A Steamy Lesbian Fantasy Romance (Girl Games Book 1)

Loving women with fury in their hearts has taught me that there are three types of anger. The first is at an injustice, a heavy rage that fuels rebellions and movements. The second is a protective anger. This one is dangerous. It’s white hot and makes a woman fearless and capable of indescribable feats.

And then there’s the last type of anger. A rage so deep, so furious, that it can crack a soul in half and smother its innards in scars. An anger fuelled by betrayal, by heartbreak.

That is the volcanic poison filling my body right now.

“Daughter? You’re his fucking daughter?” I scream. “And you didn’t think you should mention that?”

Quinn opens and closes her mouth, no words escaping.

I can’t see. The only thing I can hear is the rushing slam of blood in my ears. My ribs rise and fall in haggard breaths.

“You?” the Border Lord says, pointing at me. “I recognise you.”

The Border Lord. Her father…

Oh. Fuck.

In one instant, the furnace throbbing inside my body evaporates. Instead, I’m left ice cold. My mouth dries. My chest hollows.

Everything slots into place.

The Border Lord. The commission. His commission. The job that got my parents killed. I can’t breathe. Static fills my vision, my limbs numbing. Because there’s more. Much more that I haven’t told Quinn. But she’s betrayed me. Lied. Then again, so have I, and I didn’t even realise.

“This whole time?” I breathe. My jaw is hard. I want to break something, smash the room until it’s dust and ash.

I don’t know whether I want to cry or scream or laugh. All three. I’m furious with her. I should kill her for lying, for breaking my trust. And yet, I’ve done exactly the same to her.

This isn’t a game anymore. Not when everyone loses.

Quinn frowns, glancing from her father to me, realisation slowly dawning on her. “What was the mission you did for my father, Scarlett…” she asks, turning to me.

“Yes, Scarlett. What was it?” the Border Lord says, sneering.

Quinn’s shaking her head, her knuckles white over her blade. Maybe I deserve to die. She glances between me and her father.

“If you tell her,” I spit, “both of us will lose her.” My body is tense, my muscles straining, as more soldiers flood the room, magic and weapons held high. I want to pounce, to let the ice in my veins ignite and kill them.

Kill them all.

“The only one with anything to fear here is you,” the Border Lord says.

I shake my head. He doesn’t get it. Doesn’t understand. He’s going to undo everything. I’ll tell her because she deserves the truth. Because I’d give her anything, even if it meant losing her.

“Quinn, I’m so sorry,” I say, the words faltering in my throat.

Remy and Morrigan are sizing up the soldiers, scanning the bodies, counting. We’re outnumbered three to one. I assessed the second the room filled. It’s going to be ugly.

“What did you do?” she says, her voice breathy.

“I…” I can’t. I don’t want to tell her. Her expression, the way she looks at me with such purity creates a war inside me. How could she have kept this from me? Why? And then I realise, to protect him, the same way she always protected her brother. No matter how hurt I am, she won’t forgive me. Not for this.

“Your father commissioned me to take a life. A boy who was selling secrets.”

She brings a hand up to her mouth, her eyes filling with tears. She knows before I say it. But I can’t stop the words, not now that I’ve started. The truth spills from me.

“I came through the Border and took the commission. But when I found the commission, he was a child. No more than sixteen. I didn’t want to go through with it… Instead I…”

Quinn drops to her knees. “You stopped him from speaking.”

I nod.

“I cut his vocal chords. Left him close to help and prayed to the High Magician he lived. He was a kid. How could I kill him? It wasn’t until I returned to the palace and told him what I’d done that I realised who the boy was. That the Border Lord had sent me to slaughter…”

“Malachi,” Quinn says through her fingers.

I nod. “Quinn, I’m sor—” She holds her finger up to silence me.

“Don’t you fucking speak to me,” she roars. The light that always burns in her evergreen irises vanishes. And with it, any feeling she had for me. Instead, it’s replaced with a fire so violent I edge back.

She stares at me, a knife dangling from her fist.

“You,” she snarls.

Behind her, the Border Lord sneers. The soldiers edge closer, closer. I can smell the fight in the air, the grinding slice of swords drawing out of scabbards. My skin prickles with knowing. Someone is going to die today.

“You’re the reason my brother can’t talk. The reason he nearly died.”

“I had no idea who you or the boy were. But I swear to you I tried to save him.”

“Lies. You left him for dead. I was the one who found him.”

“I did everything I could. If I didn’t stop the boy from talking, then the Border Lord—your father—would come after me for not silencing him and then send someone else to finish the job. I had to make Malachi silent enough to save both of us.”

Quinn pulls up. Her face torn, a raggedy mix of emotions flickering through her expression. The fury I came to respect and love filling me not with desire, but fear. This is where I lose her. Where our game ends and everything we’ve built comes crashing down.

We both lose. A betrayal for a betrayal. It’s almost laughable.

She steps up to me, holding a blade under my chin. She reaches into my waistband and pulls out the blade I stole from her all those years ago. The blade I’d kept for this moment, for an execution, for retribution.

For him. I flick my eyes to the Border Lord, and his expression narrows. His lip curls, displaying yellowed teeth.

Quinn runs her fingers over the sharp edge, pushing at the ruby in the hilt. The same ruby he wears in a ring on his little finger.

The blade shudders in her hand. Its surface is shinier than I’ve ever seen it.

“That’s why you took it, isn’t it? At Roman’s party. It’s why you stole his blade from me, because you knew it was his?”

I nod. “I wasn’t a hundred percent sure. But I recognised the ruby. I didn’t understand how you possessed it. So I took it.”

“All these years,” she says, the fight going out of her voice.

I grip her wrist. “If you’re going to kill me, do it. This means you win, Quinn.”

I release her arm and she pulls back the blade, ready to strike.

“Know that I’m sorry and if I’d ever thought for a second… I wish I could change it… There was no other way…”

I should tell her the truth. Tell her what really happened. But she wouldn’t believe me, anyway. Not now. Not telling her in the heat of the moment. Instead, I steel myself. If this is what it takes, then I’ll die for her.

She tilts her head at me, her expression widening. Then she turns, blade still aimed at my heart, and faces her father.

“Would you?” she says to her father. “Would you take it all back if you could?”

“Take what back?” he asks, the gravel in his voice rumbling through my chest.

“If you could go back, would you decide against commissioning Scarlett? Would you find another way to stop the Queen from finding out your plan?”

He laughs, loud. It billows around the domed room, echoing, cold, and callous.

“Of course I would, Quinny.”

Quinn’s fingers tighten around the blade. She brings it to my chest, almost piercing the flesh. The heat of warm skin threatening to spill heating my torso.

“What… what would you do differently, father?” she asks, her voice quiet.

To my left, Remy is sliding another knife down her sleeve and into her palm. Morrigan squints at the roof. They’re planning something. I plead silently with them to wait. Wait and see how this plays out.

Even though I’m livid with her for lying, right now, I have to believe in her. Believe that she knows me well enough, that I meant to save her brother as best I could, and this was the only way I knew how. I know she can’t forgive me, hell I don’t even know if I can forgive her, but maybe we can all walk away alive.

Her father falters, his eyes focused on Quinn. He huffs, as if the answer is obvious. “I’d kill him myself.”

Quinn sucks in a breath.

“Don’t be naïve, daughter. All we have, everything you’re going to inherit, it’s because we control the Border. You give the map back to the Queen and all of this goes away. Everything we worked for. Where the hell was the Queen when the world tore in two? She sent no one. Thousands died because of her selfishness and petty squabble with her sister. This is bigger than one life. It’s bigger than you or me or Malachi.”

“He’s your son,” Quinn screams. It’s so loud and shrill I actually startle. Her hand shakes where she holds the blade to my breastbone.

I could snap it out of her hand. Could break her wrist and save myself. But what would that prove? What would it show?

No, despite everything, I still want her to see. Still want her to know that I never meant her or her brother harm. I’d give her my life if it meant her happiness.

“And he would have destroyed everything, Quinn. The Queen needs to pay for her weaknesses. She’s not worthy of ruling a people. She left us to die. If it weren’t for me, we’d all be dead. And my fucking son wasn’t taking that away from me.”

He’s red faced. A vein wiggles down his forehead, pulsing. His eyes light with the same intensity as Quinn’s do.

“Don’t you get it, darling? That bitch of a queen took everything from us. My marriage is failing, my son is voiceless, you prefer her side of the Border to mine. So that what? You can dabble with some desperate throwback legacy trying to claw her status back?”

Quinn shakes her head. “It’s not her that ruined everything you did. I’m just sorry I didn’t see it before.”

The blade releases. It flies towards the Border Lord. His eyes widen as the blade plunges into his arm. He winces and then throws his head back, laughing.

“You deign to try to kill your own father? Pathetic. I taught you better than that. You can’t even throw a blade properly. SOLDIERS.”

The soldiers move. Boots stamping on marble. I’m up, swooping Quinn behind me, as the soldiers take offensive positions.

Morrigan strikes first, fire flaring and ballooning in balls towards the soldiers. The clash of metal on metal rings in my ears as the soldiers engage. I slice and cut, stab and puncture. Soldier after soldier. The whole time, father and daughter stand in the heart of the room, immobile. Glaring at each other while we fight around them.

Remy veers left, I stab right. Back to back, the three of us, a unit, a team punching, defending, striking.

Blood splatters the walls and floor, stains my clothes and seeps into the soles of my shoes. My muscles burn, but this kind of pain is good. It hurts, and I don’t care. I want it to hurt like my heart. The acidic throb in my legs easing some of the ache in my chest.

Morrigan sets men alight, hangs them with pearlescent ropes and guts them without ever moving.

Finally, the last soldiers stare at the three of us: Remy, Morrigan and I, smeared in blood, teeth bared, gashes and slices in our arms and clothes.

The three of us pant like dogs. But I’m only just getting started. I want to cut mountains, destroy buildings, rip intestines from bellies, make the world pay for the bruise in my heart. The soldiers decide better than to attack us and flee, leaving only us, the Border Lord, and Quinn.

He sniffs, yanks the blade from his arm, and lets it clatter to the marble floor. He glances around the room, realising he’s on his own.

And then, the strangest thing happens. A single bead of blood drips from his nose. He frowns, wipes it away and glares at his daughter. “You think this handful of girls is going to stop me? So they took down a couple of soldiers. Who cares? I fought hundreds of men to get here. How the fuck do you plan to get out of the palace, Quinn?”

His face is pale, sweat lines his forehead. My blade lays abandoned at his foot.

“I’m not interested in stopping the soldiers,” Quinn says. “Only you. I’m interested in making sure you never hurt Malachi again.”

He laughs, but it comes out as a choked cough. Red-stained spittle flies out.

“Looks like you failed at that, too.”

Except she didn’t.

I glance down at the blade, the shine on the surface reflecting at me. It clicks. The blade has never been shiny.

Never.

I glance at Quinn. Her tear-stained cheeks. And I know what she did. I go to her. I slide my hand in hers. The poison takes hold of his insides, suffocates the air out.

“Quinny?” he says.

“I always thought you were doing this for the benefit of everyone, for the benefit of our people. But you weren’t. This was always about you and what you wanted. And I see now. You’re never going to stop. You nearly killed Malachi and for your own selfish gains. How can I let that go?”

The Border Lord drops onto all fours. He coughs up mucus and blood, spraying the floor with a halo of red.

He looks up at Quinn, his eyes dulling even as he reaches out to her. She steps back, letting his hand drop to the puddle of blood.

Their eyes hold each other. Quinn’s nostrils flaring, her mouth twisted in disgust even as tears stream down her cheeks. I squeeze her hand and rub my thumb around her palm. Anything to make the pain go away. But I can’t help because I’m half the reason she’s hurting. She’s the reason I’m hurting.

He slumps to the floor, sputtering, blood bubbling on his lips, and then he’s still. A moan erupts from Quinn’s lips as she kneels next to his head and leans over. She grabs his shoulders. Presses her face into his back and screams, pulling at his clothes. And then she picks up the blade and stabs, stabs, stabs.

All the while, she screams and screams and screams.

“Quinn…” I say, putting my arms around her. “Quinn, stop now.”

I pull the blade from her hands, and she sags against me, sobbing until there’s nothing left.

And then the room is as still and quiet as her father.