Read Playing With Fire for Free Online

bookworm.
    “I
knew it was you the second I came down those stairs,” The bookworm said with a
grin playing across his lips. “You look exactly as my colleagues described you,
hair blacker than a lightless night and eyes bluer than the sky on its most
vibrant days. I would have recognized you even without the wings.”
    I
was gaping with my mouth open so wide that anyone could have shoved a fist down
my throat with ease. “Moraj?” I exclaimed in shock. Can you blame me? Somebody
claiming to be the prince of a kingdom that disappeared over two decades ago is
a little difficult to accept.
    “I
think that’s what I just said so, yes, I am the prince of Moraj, and I am the
son of the last king of Moraj, Folic.” It came out so casually one would think
he was talking about the weather. I recalled all my previous thoughts about
rich princes, and realized that Vaze in no way met the criteria. He wasn’t
snobby or obnoxious. He was even kind and somewhat gentle, even though he had
been cold at first. That chipped away a tiny bit of my disdain for him, even if
it was just a tad.
    My
mind was racing as a million other questions flooded into my head, and in turn
each came with about two million follow up questions. The bookworm sensed my
brain over loading and said, “I know it’s a lot to take in, for all of you, but
it’s late, and with your injuries both you and Vaze should get some rest. Seth,
are you done with Vaze’s wing?”
    Seth
nodded while wrapping up the leftover string over a bloody needle. “You can all
stay here. I don’t want you staying in that damp Warehouse you call home on a
night like this,” the Bookworm said. I glanced at Vaze again and was shocked
when I didn’t see his wings. He met my gaze and acted as though nothing was
wrong so I decided to ignore it.
    Al
got up and offered me a hand. I didn’t take it and got up myself to show I was
fine even though the pain in my shoulder had seemed to remember it had a job of
bugging the crap out of me. Al just shrugged and asked the bookworm where he
wanted us to stay.
    The
bookworm led us to the attic of his bookshop which to me looked like it was
bigger than the actual store. It had just enough beds for all of us and an
enormous window at the very front of the store with a ledge to sit and watch
the streets. Curtains of a gentle shade of dark green stretched from the top to
the bottom of the window on each side. There was even another fireplace with
dry wood ready to be lit in its hearth.
    Each
of the beds had a thick warm cover with the softest pillows I had ever set my
head on, but then again the pillows I usually used were leaves stuffed inside a
blanket or occasionally the feathers off our dinner. We try not to waste
anything. My clothes for instance were thrown out of a tailor shop because
moths had chewed holes in them. I didn’t care, in my mind it was a great
birthday present from Al.
    The
old bookworm had even thought to lay new clothes out on each of the beds for me
and my brothers, and returned a few minutes after leaving with a pair of
clothes for Vaze to wear as well. I would never admit this out loud but the old
bookworm was the closest thing to a father we’ve ever had.
    My
brothers and I chose our beds immediately after we had all dressed (though I
had to dress in a separate room obviously) and I chose the bed in the corner by
the window. Al chose the bed next to mine, which didn’t surprise me in the
least bit. Ever since we met we had felt safer together than apart. Or at least
he felt safer when he was around me. For me anything could be lethal, though
after a while I was tired of being a nervous wreck and just took what life had
to throw at me.
    It
only took an hour for my brothers to be completely knocked out, to my
disadvantage. Darren snored loudly across the room, making any chance I had of
falling asleep a big fat zero. I could hardly hear Al’s soft breathing, and his
bed was only two feet from mine. The one thing I could