Chapter 20 #2
“Oh, you wound me.” He mockingly pressed his palm into his chest. The dozens of medals and patches weighing down his coat seemed to only prove my point.
“And Brexley, you saw a tiny bit of what I am working on. As soon as I locate the nectar, I will be the ruler of not only the east, but I will take the west as well.”
Years of training kept my face blank as I stared back at him, giving no hint of my knowledge of the nectar. If he knew how close it actually was. Not only in my backpack, but standing right in front of him.
For the first time, I was glad it was empty. If this man got his hands on it, this world would be destroyed in a war that ended all others . . . and us.
Even him having it without its powers could start wars.
Istvan glanced over my shoulder. “Right on time.”
I whipped around to see the guards stepping to the side to allow a small group to enter.
A scream built up in my chest. Devastation swallowing me whole.
Kalaraja.
But he wasn’t alone.
The guy with him was beaten up so badly his entire face puffed out, so I hardly recognized him.
He stumbled forward, his arms tied, while Kalaraja tossed a woman’s body off his shoulder to the ground.
Her face was also almost unrecognizable, but her blue hair fanned out on the concrete, painted red near her skull.
“Kek!” I lurched, but Warwick stopped me, pressing his good arm into me, keeping me back. A whimper came up my throat as I tried to see if she was breathing. I peered at Lukas. He was barely holding himself upright, his head bowed.
“They didn’t even reach the city border,” Kalaraja bragged. “Though the demon had to be put out. She was starting to think she could take me.”
“I can always count on you. Good job.” Istvan was pleased.
Kalaraja dipped his head, stepping behind his captures. Lukas swayed on his feet, trying to stay standing. I realized his head was down because he was staring at Kek. Her body was limp, and I couldn’t tell if her chest was moving or not.
Grief and guilt bruised my heart. I should have kept them here, telling them it was too dangerous.
The only reason they were here in the first place was because of me.
They should have never come to Budapest. If Kek was dead, I would never forgive myself.
I had already watched Tracker and Ava be murdered in cold blood because of me.
Movement beside me twisted my head to Ash.
We had been through a lot together so far, but I had never seen this expression before.
His green eyes burned bright, like how emeralds glow in the sun.
His shoulders rose. The trees along the square started to sway and creak, even though there wasn’t a breath of wind.
“Ash,” Warwick called to his friend, but Ash didn’t seem to hear, his eyes locked on Kek’s body, then rising to Lukas’s, anger building in him. “Ash, don’t!”
Wood cracked in the distance with Ash’s rage. A sound came from him I never heard, his body lunging toward Kalaraja, the two men colliding.
The stillness flipped as gunfire and yells resounded off the buildings. Warwick swiped up his weapon, shooting a few guards down who had their weapons trained on Ash while he unlatched his claw from his back, gutting a soldier close to him.
Before I could move, I felt something press into my temple.
Click.
Istvan pressed the barrel to my temple. “I suggest you stop.” His voice rang out clear and sharp. The soldiers halted instantly.
Warwick whirled to Istvan, lids narrowing, his nose flaring.
“Do not think of even trying.” Istvan pressed the metal harder into my head. How blind I was that he had been inching closer to me, ready to seize me at any opportunity. “I will not hesitate.”
Fury rolled off Warwick, his eyes landing on mine. I shook my head, telling him to do as he said.
“Get on your knees,” Istvan ordered to my group, pushing me down to mine. “All of you.” He motioned to his men. “Strip them of all weapons and items.”
A guard took my weapons, my stomach sinking when he tore off my backpack. Taking our weapons, they glanced through the bags for more, then tossed them into a pile. Mine would be nothing more than a book and a tiny box, nothing of consequence . . . they would assume.
The very thing Istvan would destroy the world for—kill everyone here for—was only inches from his feet. The power was inside one bag, and they tossed it into a pile like rubbish.
I watched sentries move on my friends, guns to their heads, relieving them of all weapons. Ash snarled, lowering himself to the ground near Kek, Lukas next to him. One by one, they all went down, Killian being the last, going against his very being. Bowing to the human leader.
“Take off his hood.” Istvan ordered a soldier next to Killian. He was the only one whose face was still covered.
The trooper over him grabbed his hood, yanking it off.
I begged for Istvan not to recognize him, to not know who they had in this square. The potential Markos held in obtaining the fae leader was strong. But I knew not to hope. The man I grew up with was meticulous and smart. Aware of every player.
The second Istvan recognized the disheveled, wounded man for who he was, his frame jerked with shock. Then he righted himself with arrogance.
“Well, well . . .” Istvan took a moment, then slowly stepped away from me, knowing I could do nothing.
Everyone I loved was being held at gunpoint.
Fae bullets pointed at their brains. “Of all the people I imaged ensnaring in my net tonight.” A cruel mocking tone came from Istvan, striding over to the kneeling lord.
“I never thought the supposed dead fae ruler would be one of them.”
Killian’s jaw strained, his eyes burning with fury, taking every bit of his composure not to strike Markos.
Istvan stopped right in front of him, beaming with condescension and superiority.
As if he had already won the battle for this city.
“Though I’m shocked and impressed your ego was willing to play dead.
I will admit, for a moment there, I was disappointed, thinking I had already solved you as a problem.
However, this is a more beneficial outcome for what I have planned.
I dare say my night has developed exceedingly better than I hoped. ”
Terror gripped me as Istvan’s arrogance soared, my stomach dropping at the indication of what he had planned.
“Going into hiding suggested you are smart to sense the bomb was meant to kill you.” Istvan’s gray brows went up with implication.
I could feel it coming; we had even discussed it, but to know our theory was accurate left me breathless.
“Whoever wanted you dead was one of your own . . . or at least aided in your demise. How awful to know someone hated you more than the thought of a human leader in charge. That night I was supposed to pluck out both the thorns in my side.” Without fully admitting it, Istvan had implicated himself in my uncle’s bombing, as well as Killian’s.
Not something we didn’t already know, but to hear him so arrogantly claim it chilled me.
“No matter. They will both be dealt with tonight.”
Both? What the hell did that mean?
Killian’s face remained impassive, though I could see the fury inching his shoulders up and down with his controlled breathing. He was a tinder keg. One more word might make him explode.
“This is all about me, for stealing the formula, for betraying you. Your ego couldn’t handle that I wasn’t your trained monkey.” I spouted bullshit, trying to steer Istvan’s attention off Killian before he got killed.
Disappointment showed over Istvan’s face. “You are much smarter than you are pretending to be.” He turned slightly to me. “I had high hopes for you. If anything, you were handy in controlling my son. Though I don’t have much use for you now.” Istvan drew back up his gun, pointing it at me.
“No!” Warwick roared, dozens of soldiers holding him back. Tension pounded in my veins, the sound of my last breaths loud in my ears. My gaze met with Warwick’s, and I shook my head, telling him not to fight. To live another day. Fight this battle. Markos had to be stopped.
“I have dreamed about this for a long time.” Istvan ambled up to me, the gun pressing into the middle of my forehead. “I won’t lie. It will hurt. I put a lot of time and effort into you, Brexley. I thought you’d turn out even more powerful than my own son.”
I was. But that secret would die with me. And somehow, I knew if I died, whatever energy was left in the nectar, if any, would die with me.
Istvan took a step closer, his finger starting to press down on the trigger.
“Father!” A voice pierced the air, so familiar it was like I dreamed him up in my last moments. Saying goodbye to my old best friend.
Istvan turned as two outlines came through the throng, my entire body freezing up with shock and confusion.
“Son. Good to see you. I’m glad you are all right.” Istvan nodded formally as Caden strolled up, shaking his hand like he would a lieutenant, not a son who had been kidnapped by an enemy.
“Hanna.” Istvan said her name with no emotion, but I saw his mouth turn slightly down.
“Sir.” She saluted him.
Caden’s eyes slid to me, but I couldn’t see anything in them. I used to see through him so easily; now he had the ability to shut me out, too.
How did they escape? How was he here? The terror of knowing the answers to my questions gurgled in my stomach like acid.
“Leave her alive,” Caden replied, emotionless. “Killing her now would be too easy.”
“You still have a weakness for her. To become a good leader, you must cut out those weaknesses.”
“Don’t worry, Father. I will make her pay. She will experience everything I went through.”
Went through? He was eating biscuits and drinking tea earlier.
If that was the bar he set, then sign me the hell up.
Had he forgotten I had been in Halálház?
The House of Death, where I had been flayed open, tortured, assaulted, broken, beaten, and had to kill to stay alive.
Nothing he could do to me would compare with that.
Pride hinted on Istvan’s face, his head dipping with approval, lowering his gun.
My lids shut briefly with the reprieve. The echoes of screams popped them back open. My eyes caught more soldiers marching up . . . with hostages.
My horror was confirmed. Hanna and Caden didn’t escape. They walked out.
The base had been found.
“Noooo!” I screamed. Hands grabbed me, yanking me back, but all I could see was the man they marched through, covered in blood. The guard shoved him down to his knees with force. “Nagybácsi!”
His head jerked to me. Deep sorrow and grief filled his eyes. “Dragam.” I didn’t know if he said it out loud or not, but I still heard it, saw it in his gaze, felt his distress in my soul.
Every person thrown down next to him cut more wounds. Scorpion, Birdie, Maddox, Wesley, Ling, and Zuz. There were others, but those were the ones I really noticed. Every breath hurt like a razor blade slicing at my lungs.
“Andris Takacs,” Istvan said his name evenly, but I knew the man; I could see rage locking up his body. “It’s been a while. Though I guess I wasn’t expecting a reunion, as you are supposed to be dead as well.”
Andris kept his chin up, looking out, not reacting.
“And this whole time, you were raising your pathetic excuse for a rebel army. From a top-tier war general, fighting for humans, to this. A fae-lover and half-breed sympathizer.” He spat on him. “You disgust me. You have no honor.”
“Considering what you deem is honor, I take that as a compliment,” Andris replied calmly.
“You and Benet once were magnificent. Could have been the greatest war captains in the world, but look at what has become of you. One of you is dead, and the other one is at my feet like a dog.” Istvan growled, the sight of his old friend and lieutenant stroking more emotion from him than I had seen in years.
Even more than seeing his own son alive and well.
“Finding out you were still alive . . .” For a moment, something resembling hurt flickered over Istvan.
“I knew even before we learned you had Caden and Hanna. My faithful hunter found out who you were when he discovered your first base. He followed her right to you.” He glanced at Kalaraja and then gestured to me.
“Your weakness for her was your downfall. She led us right to you every time.”
The crushing guilt bowed my head low, not able to look my uncle in the face.
How many deaths were because of me? All the pain and devastation?
I knew Kalaraja was good at his job, but now I knew all those times I felt watched, or maybe even when I didn’t .
. . he was always there, blending in the background, following me.
I was the reason Kitty’s was blown up, why the Sarkis army had been attacked, why they were all here now.
All the fae power and training in this group couldn’t fight back . . .
Because Istvan did what Dr. Rapava never could.
He created the super soldier.