Chapter 24 #2
A hand brushed my ass, jerking my head over my shoulder to see a figure behind me, a slight smile across cut lips.
It took everything I had not to respond, to cry out and wrap my arms around him too.
“Dare you to touch my ass again, Killian,” I mumbled, keeping my head forward, our bodies crushing together in the lines.
“Believe me, Brexley, it’s all I’d like to do right now,” he whispered in my ear. The power of my name still tingled, but not even close to what he could do before.
Ash snarled, glaring back at him.
“Don’t tell me; Warwick has his guard dog watching you when he can’t,” Killian replied, all of us acting like we didn’t even acknowledge the other was there.
“Did you see him?” I asked.
“For a moment.” Killian’s statement had my chest clenching. “He was dragged into a room past mine when we first arrived. That was the last I saw of him.”
“What happened to you?” If the fae lord was let out with us, why wasn’t Warwick?
“Typical human bullshit,” Killian huffed out, then cringed in pain from the exertion beneath his broken ribs. “Asking me questions I wouldn’t answer and beating me. Humans really have no imagination for interrogation.”
“What did they ask you?”
“What I knew about the nectar, where I had been hiding, how I survived the bombing. And some queries about the prison itself.” He moved closer into the back of me. “Nothing they asked was of consequence. Though, I think it’s pretty clear who helped betray me.”
“Boyd.” I glanced up at the man, rushing people through the line.
“He can’t be alone. The guy is not that smart. And Zion would go wherever the money was. Same with most of the other fae soldiers here. They follow the paycheck, not a cause.”
“We need to learn who Boyd is connected with because there has to be more fae in on this. The fae wouldn’t allow a human leader to take over your property and rule.”
“Unless they don’t know.”
“How would they not know by now?” I inched forward, treading on the back of Rosie’s heels.
“To them, I’m dead. And if they have another fae noble moving in to be leader, or at least pretending to be . . .” Killian’s voice lowered as we inched closer to the water buckets.
His theory was right in line with mine. But who would do that? Who would be willing to be a puppet for the humans instead of actually taking over as fae ruler?
“Well, that doesn’t fuckin’ matter if we’re in here,” Ash gritted back to Killian. “You designed this hellhole. How do we get out of it?”
Killian let out a sigh. “We don’t.”
“What?” Ash hissed.
“I made sure it was impossible after last time.” Killian directed it at me. “I tightened the magic with Druid spells as well.”
“We’re so fucked.” Ash shook his head.
We really were. We had a long list of problems.
We were forced to stop talking as we neared the bucket, the water dirty, and the single cup doing nothing to quench our thirst.
Rosie took hers, turning quickly, her head jerked slightly at seeing Killian behind me.
“Look at you, fully clothed.” Killian’s smooth, regal voice sounded condescending. “Barely recognized you.”
She rolled her jaw. “And look at you with a dog collar.” She curved her brow, stepping past him. “Finally recognized you. Fits you perfectly.”
Lowering my head, I hid my chuckle.
“Ouch,” Ash whispered.
“Shut up,” Killian muttered.
It took everything not to laugh as I took my cup of water.
For one second, barely a blink, I felt a single bubble of relief, amusement, and joy. It’s the tiny moments you have to cling to in order to stay sane here.
Because in the House of Blood, they didn’t just want to burst our sanity. They wanted to obliterate it.
Achy, starving, sweaty, and gross, we were funneled from the factory down to the mess hall after twelve hours of grueling work.
They gave us moldy bread for lunch, and if you didn’t get that, there might be a few rotting apples, which were slimy and infested with bugs.
It was all designed to break us. And with the constant influx of prisoners coming in, they would discard us like those rotten apples when we got too weak to work.
On day one, you could see who was new and who wasn’t.
The newbies were disgusted and thought they could hold out not eating putrid food.
Barrel through the hunger for a better meal later.
The rest of us knew better. If you wanted to live, you ate the rotten and moldy.
Bugs meant more protein. Gross didn’t even factor into it.
When the line was drawn in the sand, you realized there was a lot you never thought yourself capable of when it came down to living or not.
With a lack of food and water combined with grueling work, most struggled to walk, needing assistance from their peers. We all went to our designated tables silently, like trained dogs, barely having the energy to sit up.
Killian and Andris were the only ones who had to sit by themselves. The rest of us jammed onto benches, our combined stench permeating the room.
“Humans go first.” Zion was again at the front by the food being set out. It looked more like slop you’d feed pigs. His nose wrinkled with disgust, but he motioned for us to get up.
My table started to get up, and I pushed up to follow next to Rosie.
“Except you.” Joska came up to me, carrying his baton. He shoved it into my chest, pushing me back. With a button, the baton turned into a spiked club.
Rosie stiffened next to me, not leaving my side, though I wanted her to. I wanted no attention on her.
“Why?” I fought to control my voice. Exhaustion had my emotions simmering just under the surface.
“Because.” He shrugged with a cruel smile. “I feel like it, and I said so.”
“Look at you, Kovacs.” Boyd strolled up behind Joska, a matching smile on his face, my stomach dropping.
His sneer held more meaning, alluding to the things he had done and tried before in Halálház.
“Once again, you’re the problem child.” He carried the same baton-mace, slapping it against his palm.
Joska went rigid at Boyd’s nearness, his glare shooting over his shoulder, telling him he had this covered.
“Take it easy, human. This isn’t HDF camp anymore,” Boyd sneered. “This is the big boys’ league. And you haven’t even learned to hold your baton yet.”
“You take it easy,” Joska snapped. “I have more power than you down here.” Typical hypocrite. Mr. Human purity took the pills to become more fae.
“Then let’s take this outside, shall we?” Boyd taunted, moving right beside Joska, in front of Rosie. “And I still have more authority over you, so talk to your boss if you don’t like it.”
Interesting. Boyd was given a higher position, even over an HDF human soldier.
Joska’s expression twisted with rage, his nose flaring, creating a wider smirk on Boyd’s face. To my horror, he turned his leer on the girl next to me, his eyes dancing down Rosie’s figure.
“What do we have here?” He licked his lips, staring bluntly at her chest. “You’re one of the whores we collected, huh?”
Fear raced up my spine like thorns. I wanted to step in between her and this sick bastard. I knew what he was capable of. Zander stopped him from raping me last time, but now he had more power and no one to stop him.
She probably understood men like him better than me, but I still wanted to protect her.
“I won’t eat.” I tried to deviate the attention from her, nudging her arm, telling her to go. She took only a step before Boyd grabbed her arm, flinging her back into the table.
“I didn’t say you could go,” he barked. “For that, you both will be punished. And everyone will get to watch.” The look in his eyes told me everything. My entire body flushing with heat when he grabbed Rosie, twisting her around and slamming her face into the table, yanking at her pants.
“No!” I screamed, lurching for him, punching and kicking.
Whack!
Pain exploded as the baton struck me across the face, knocking me to the ground. I heard yells and commotion across the room and saw for a split second that guards were trying to hold Ash, Scorpion, Killian, and others back before Joska’s boot struck into my stomach with force.
Pain ripped the air from my lungs, but I still tried to get up, the need to protect Rosie compelling me. Joska’s boot struck again, forcing a cry from my lips, flattening me out on the ground. I started to recede from the pain, to disappear from what was happening.
And maybe this time, I’d never wake up.
A roar blasted through the room, rattling the tables and punching the walls, silencing the room with a terrified hush.
My skin tingled, feeling the heavy glare of a killer. Curving my head, my gaze landed on the man who had the power to halt everyone in their place.
The Wolf.
The legend.
Peering at me through his dark lashes, his brutal, raw aura sank into me like teeth, causing the same hitch in my breath I had the first time our eyes met across the prison cafeteria.
Through the slits of his swollen eyes, aqua burned into mine with fury and death. His body appeared as if he’s been electrocuted, beaten, and tortured, but his wrath banished the idea they had broken him in any way. Warwick’s shoulders rose and expanded as another chilling growl came from him.
A warning.
“Warwick!” My cry didn’t even make it out before he barreled forward with a booming war cry, the eight guards around him tumbling over like bowling pins.
“Stay back, Farkas!” Boyd ordered, pulling back up his pants in a panic, fumbling for his gun.
Warwick’s fist collided with Joska, the beefy man flying back onto the ground before Warwick directed himself toward Boyd.
“I’m warning you!” I could hear the slight fear in Boyd’s voice as he yanked out his gun. Instead of pointing it at Warwick, he darted to me, pressing it up against my head. “I won’t hesitate.”
Warwick came to a jarring stop, his chest heaving, his eyes flashing with rage.
“I thought that would tug on your leash.” Boyd sneered. “The great legend . . .” He shook his head. “Has his balls in a knot over this?” He gestured at me. “What is it with her? Her pussy can’t be that great. I should know; I’ve felt it.”
Oh. Shit.
Warwick could come at you like a bull, or a ghost, killing you before you even knew he was there.
His wrath filled the air like smoke, and he darted to Boyd in a blink, his hand clapping around Boyd’s neck, lifting him off the floor, squeezing so tight I already heard popping.
“Stop! Drop him now,” a guard yelled as several moved around him, striking him with their mace clubs.
Warwick howled as the spikes tore through his skin, cutting into his muscle and tissue. His hand released Boyd as more and more surrounded him, clubbing him. Warwick’s blood dripped and pooled onto the floor.
Commotion buzzed around me, inmates rising up, but all I could see and hear was Warwick.
Jumping up, I leaped for the guards, trying to push them off and away from him with a shattering scream. “Stop!”
“Kovacs!” Warwick shouted as a few turned on me, striking.
The agony dropped me to my knees as the clubs impaled my legs and spine.
“NOOO!” Warwick boomed, trying to pull me into him, shelter me from the hits.
His one hand engulfed mine, the other cupping my face, our eyes locked, and in that second, the pain ebbed and melted into the background.
The fact they were going to kill us here brushed at my mind, but it didn’t seem as important as long as I was with him.
In this moment, it was just us.
“Fuck that, princess. You aren’t going to die here,” his eyes said back into mine.
“Stop!” Boyd’s voice rose above in an order, ending the brutality on us.
“We were ordered to keep them alive for now.” Boyd’s scarred lip twitched, strolling over to us.
“That doesn’t mean they have to be mentally functioning.
” The lip rose into a smile as he rubbed his neck.
“Take them both to the hole. They’ve been there before; they should feel right at home. ”
The hole.
No. No. Nononono. My head started shaking back and forth, tears filling my eyes. Terror clamped down on me as soldiers forced me to my feet, blood dripping down my legs and back, soaking into my pants. My lungs faulted, wanting to shut down.
“Kovacs,” Warwick grunted, grabbing my face again. “Look at me.”
Panic took over, my legs wobbling with the knowledge of what was ahead. I barely made it out last time. I would prefer death over this.
“You’ll be okay.” He spoke just to me as they tore us apart, roughly hauling us out of the room. “You are stronger than you think.”
He was trying to comfort me when he was so badly beaten and probably as starved as I was. We weren’t going in strong. He could lose himself in there as well.
“Warwick,” I said his name. Only his name. It wasn’t words of love or anything. We weren’t like that. But my tone said it all, expressed everything I didn’t say.
He just looked at me, his irises intent on me, blazing with meaning before the guards pulled us down opposite passages, leading to the pits of despair.
If it was myself trying to give me comfort, I didn’t care. His voice wrapped around me. “They didn’t fuckin’ break us last time, Kovacs. Whatever it takes, you fucking survive, okay? Whatever. It. Fucking. Takes.”
“Whatever it takes,” I whispered before the door slammed on me, and I was left in utter darkness.