Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
The shrill buzzer howled through the underground, bouncing off the thirty levels of hell and rebounding to the other side, only to hit back at us. Ping-ponging off the metal like table tennis. Grating at every nerve that survived the long night.
Very few slept. The older residents barked at the newbies to shut up, increasing their sobs and wails.
I had heard it all before, the melody of agony rising and falling in a chorus.
The sniffles like the sound of a tambourine, the pounding of the bars like beating drums, the wails a horn, the quiet sobs of a guitar, while they sang their fears and denials in a melancholy song.
I had stared out, looking at nothing while my mind went round and round, not landing on anything, feeling emotions of guilt, fear, and devastation.
Seeing Ling get murdered. Andris. My friends.
I didn’t even know if Kek was alive. Where was everyone?
At any second, they could be taken from me without my knowledge. Killed without a thought.
In my gut, though, there was no doubt I would know if something happened to Warwick.
It wasn’t a fact, merely a deep-seated gut notion.
And I was afraid of what would happen if I did feel his loss.
I walked the line as it was between the sides.
If Istvan killed him, I would jump willingly into the depths of darkness. No conscience. No compassion.
I would become revenge.
Again, my mind conjured up the sensation of Warwick’s voice. “Same, princess. Even death would fear me.”
A baton strummed down the metal bars. “Time to get up, fishes!” Boyd’s condescension resonated from close by, my muscles locking up, knowing he wouldn’t pass me by. My tormentor was going to make me pay for getting away from him.
Pushing up off the cold, hard ground, bones aching, wounds screaming in protest, I rose to my feet, pressing my spine against the wall.
The bag containing my toiletries in hand, like I was about to head off to school.
It took all I had to keep upright. My body was finally experiencing all the pain it went through the night before and demanding to stay in bed.
I had no such luxury anymore.
Hearing his steps, I tried to build up the thick barrier you had to have here.
The place in your mind where you could disappear, to keep from breaking.
It was a lot harder than I thought. To know what was coming and get prepared and back in the mind frame to handle torture, to take the beatings, assaults, and starvation.
Swallowing back the whimper, the tears wanting to flood me, I lifted my chin, my expression stone.
“Well, look here.” Boyd came into my doorway, blocking out most of the light, his smug, ugly face making my eyes twitch.
“Up and ready to go like a good little girl. Guess some fishes can be housebroken.” He ran his baton across, the sound battling my lashes faster.
“How does it feel to be back home? Right where you belong?” He tipped his head, his glare full of greedy lust. He wanted to hurt.
To punish. “Maybe you can show all the new baby fishes how it’s done.
Lead by example. Or be the example.” His mouth twitched in a sneer, telling me exactly which he hoped for.
“You thought Halálház was bad. Just wait . . .”
I tried to fight my automatic swallow, but Boyd caught it, his scarred lip rising higher. “Afraid?”
Staying silent, I understood Boyd enough that any word from my mouth would lead to a beating. He was aching for it, begging me to say something.
I wanted to ask why he was here? Why was he working for Istvan?
My mind had gone to dark places last night, almost convincing myself this was some elaborate betrayal by Killian.
He was sitting somewhere watching all of this play out, not a victim at all.
But the idea quickly fell apart; my soul knew he wouldn’t do it.
Plus, there were too many humans and HDF members here. Killian would never cross that line.
Though it seemed Istvan would.
He declared his hatred of the other species so ardently, only to want to be like them and work with them—Istvan had proved himself capable on both fronts.
Somehow, when Killian went into hiding, thinking it was the best way to find out who was after him, it gave Istvan the means to take it all.
No one could have seen this coming. A human brazenly taking the fae lord’s land and assets without anyone knowing?
That took planning, preparation, and precision, which had to be so on point, with so many situations that could go wrong.
I never questioned that Istvan wasn’t smart, but I didn’t think he was this diabolical.
A buzz raked the air, the locks on our doors unlatching, the doors sliding open.
Boyd smirked, tapping the bat against his palm, then with the press of his finger into the end, spikes popped out of it like barbwire. He twirled it, showing how the spikes glinted in the light.
“Come on, Kovacs, the early bird gets the worm.” He used the device to wave me forward.
Tucking away my pride, anger, and the need to ram the baton up this man’s ass with the spikes out, I inhaled through my nose and stepped out.
“Hurry up!” He slammed his hand between my shoulder blades so hard I scrambled and stumbled, trying to keep upright in the large boots I didn’t even bother taking off to sleep, barely staying on my feet.
People filled the walkways, all heading for their communal bathroom. Keeping my head straight, my feet fluidly moving, my gaze peered as far across as I could, trying to find any of my friends.
We were corralled into the large, shared restroom. It was the same setup—open showers on one side, toilets on the other, sinks in the middle, and lockers lining another wall.
Guards stood on each wall and two by the only entrance and exit.
“Get in, do your business, and get out,” Boyd yelled, the only directions the new people got.
“Rosie!” I spotted my friend looking bruised, exhausted, and in pain. She hobbled toward me, her eyes lighting up a little at seeing me. “Stay close. And do what I do.”
She nodded, her eyes bloodshot from crying.
Birdie, Wesley, Zuz were already there, but it was another figure I wasn’t expecting to see.
“Lukas!” I ran up, throwing my arms around him.
“Brex.” He held me tight, sighing deeply with relief.
“Hey! No touching!” A guard yelled at us. “No fucking talking. This isn’t chat time. Shit and get out!”
“You okay?” I stepped away from him, heading to the toilets.
“Yeah. I’m healing, but since we got down here, it’s been a hell of a lot slower.”
“There’s no magic down here.”
“What?” Birdie recoiled.
“They block it. So you can’t use it against the guards or break out of here.”
“I thought I felt all wrong.” Wesley gripped.
“Kek?” I turned back to Lukas.
“I don’t know.” He dropped his head. “We were attacked right at the city line. She tried to fight him. There were too many, and he was able to get her.” He swallowed. “Her pulse was barely there . . . but I don’t know anything since we got here.”
“What did I say?” The same guard yelled at us again. “One more time! Just test me.” He touched his baton at his side. All the guards had guns, batons which could be a mace, knives, and stun guns. They were not fucking around.
I motioned for my group to move. “Time to lose any inhibitions you had.” I yanked down my pants, sitting on the toilet without hesitation.
“Good thing I haven’t had those in years.” Rosie scoffed, following suit.
It took the others a moment to react. I knew the feeling—watching almost half the room hesitate and debate with themselves.
Their safety lines would chip away faster than they ever could imagine.
What they thought of as being open and secure would be pushed far beyond their breaking point, realizing they always had a safety net.
A safe space. This place shredded any resemblance of safe, of being anything more than for your base needs and survival.
My friends shadowed me, doing their business and putting their stuff in a locker before following me out. They were all formidable, badass fighters who could kill the scariest of creatures, and they trailed after me like little ducks.
The mess hall was similar to the last place, but the moment I stepped in, I knew this was where things started to change. There was no line for food or even people working behind the cafeteria-style layout Killian had built.
Everyone sat at tables. Silent and obedient.
There was no mesh of different colored uniforms at tables, different alliances, deals, and payoffs to hide behind.
Solid colors clumped together in different sections.
Humans in gray, half-breeds in blue, fae in yellow, and demons in red.
Istvan was segregating us. Keeping us with our own kind, carving the already distinct lines wider between the groups.
This would cause even more hate and more violence, which would cause us to turn on each other, not the men doing it to us.
“Humans on this side!” A man’s voice boomed out. “Half-breeds over there. Demons in the corner, and fae against the wall.”
My eyes darted to the corner, my heart leaping up in my chest when I spotted blue hair among the group. Kek looked like shit, blood still caking her hair, but she was alive. Our eyes met for a moment. She didn’t give me any emotion, which made me feel even better. Kek didn’t do emotion.
“She’s okay, thank gods.” I heard Lukas breathe out next to me, his lids closing briefly.
“Move it!” The same guard yelled, shoving people toward their section.
My gut dropped, knowing everyone but Rosie would be parted from me.
Birdie, Wesley, and Zuz headed for the yellow tables, where I spotted Ash, Scorpion, Sloane, Kitty, and Maddox along the dozens of tables. Meeting their eyes, a simple nod from them sent relief through me, knowing they were okay.