Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
By the next breakfast, if you could call it one, you could feel a spark in the air, a change in our demeanor. Which was not lost on Boyd, nor Joska and Kristof, who were both back, and appeared even more twitchy and filled with increased rage.
They could taste our hope, smell it in the air, feel it brush their skin.
Boyd’s intuition could sense it, but the fake-fae picked it up like smelling another animal in heat.
It confused them. And when beasts get confused, they get angry.
Agitated. They wanted to rip it out, beat it down, and remove anything that challenged their hate and wrath.
Boyd went around randomly clubbing people, having their beaten bodies dragged out of the room, only antagonizing the souped-up soldiers around him.
Somebody would break eventually.
“We have to hurry this up,” I muttered to the group at my table.
“How?” Tracker hissed back.
So far, I found out most fae guards here were only in it for the money. They didn’t like the humans but weren’t faithful enough to their own side to refuse the money Istvan was giving them. And the HDF soldiers acted more as if they were in a cult than an army.
There was a thin line between the two, which could be used in our favor.
“Okay, maybe we’re looking at this the wrong way. Instead of inside out, what about outside in?” My gaze darted between Hanna and Tracker. “You two were the last to be on the outside. To be in HDF or around Istvan. Can you remember anything that might help?”
“As soon as Istvan debriefed me about my time at Sarkis, and I asked to go see my parents, he had me hauled into a holding cell then brought here.” Hanna scooped some gruel into her mouth, her face not able to fight the flinch of disgust.
“He said nothing to you?”
“Just that my whole family had turned out to be grave disappointments and traitors.” Her blue eyes went from her mom to me, her voice lowering. “He asked me about the nectar.” Her tone was poignant, hinting back to the conversation we had at the canteen that day, reminding me she knew I had it.
“Nectar?” Tracker’s spine went straight, his voice peaking slightly louder than it should have. He instantly bowed his head, our whole table going still, waiting for a reaction from the guards. Fortunately, most of them were away from our table, unfortunately poking at Killian.
“You didn’t tell him anything, did you?” I finally spoke again.
“No,” she refuted strongly.
“Do you know if Caden did?”
Hanna wagged her head. “I don’t know. I never saw him after we left the square.
But General Markos would debrief him first.” The highest-ranking officer was always interrogated first. It was how it was done.
Caden far outranked Hanna. “When the General spoke to me, he didn’t seem to have any idea where it was. ”
My shoulders eased. “Good. I can’t have him finding it.”
“Wait. Are you talking about the same nectar we were looking for in Killian’s tunnels?” Tracker addressed me. “Did you find it?”
I let out a scoff. “You could say that.” And part of it is sitting right across from you, buddy.
Tracker’s eyes widened more. “You have it.” He stated with awe, then his gaze went over me. “Where is it? How did they not find it on you if you had it? Do you have it now?”
“No. But I know where it is. Sort of.”
My only hope was whoever went through the pile of jackets and bags didn’t have a clue what it was.
It was far better off staying in innocent hands until I could get to it.
I felt confident I would be able to find it the moment I got out of here, as the pull to it would lead me like a compass. It was part of me.
“Where is it?” Tracker responded automatically.
My mouth pinned together in a flat smile, letting him understand no one at this table would know except me.
“I can’t believe you actually found it.” He shook his head in disbelief. “That it’s real.”
“Oh, it’s real.”
“The power it’s supposed to have is immeasurable. Why didn’t you use it if you had it?”
“I did,” I muttered without thinking. “Brought Andris back to life after his base was bombed.”
“Wait.” Tracker blinked at me, his shoulders pushing back. “It can bring people back from the dead?” I knew that tone, his look. The hope.
“It doesn’t work lik—”
“Chow time is over! Let’s move!” Joska yelled, strolling past our table, shutting me up. “Now!”
Our group got up quietly from the table, walking to the stairs to the level leading to the factory.
Tracker got lost in the crowd, and I lost my chance to tell him I could never bring Ava back.
The nectar didn’t bring people back from the dead.
It was only in the first moments of death, when life still clung to the body.
I searched for him by Lukas when we got up to the factory, but he wasn’t there, and with the growing numbers of inmates coming in daily, he was lost in the throng, men outnumbering the women prisoners by more than double.
Most of the day had gone by when I suddenly found him next to Lukas, his shirt not yet sticking to his body, as if he decided to finally come to work, though I knew that couldn’t be the case.
Every single inmate worked, no matter age, sickness, or capability.
If you collapsed or died, they would drag you off as though you were rubbish.
Joska and Kristof were in rare form, strutting around the women, poking at Rosie and me the most. I tried not to react, but their aggression increased instead of diminishing at our lack of response.
“You think I can’t kill you right here?” Kristof rammed his baton into my back, slamming me against the sewing machine.
His fingers wrapped in my hair, ripping out strands as he yanked it back.
His fragile male human ego was bruised because I took him and all his buddies out in the shower room by myself.
“What you did? I’m gonna fucking slice you into pieces slowly and fuck your corpse. You will pay, bitch.”
“Kristof,” Boyd warned from across the room. “Leave that one for now.”
Kristof snarled in my ear. “The moment he’s not looking, I’m gonna fuck you up so bad. Find a place to put this.” He tapped the spiked club on the table next to me, the threat very clear.
“Yeah, this whore needs to pay.” Joska twitched and paced behind us, feeding off Kristof’s energy as though he could no longer control his actions.
“Oh, what’s wrong, Kurva?” Kristof sneered at Rosie across the table.
“You getting jealous? Don’t worry, I know how much you love to choke on my dick.
I’ll be fucking you after her.” His nails dug so deep into my scalp; I could feel blood leaking down the back of my head.
Pain filled my eyes, and I bit on my lip, trying to keep my cries from escaping.
His baton whacked me again across the back.
“Stop!” Rosie choked out. “Please!”
Kristof went deadly still.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“What did you say?” He let go of me, standing fully upright.
Tension slathered every inch of the air, a bomb ticking under my feet, and I had no real way of defusing the situation.
“You telling me what to do, you fucking picsa?” Cunt.
“You think you have a right to even speak?” Fury lashed out from him, his body moving with a speed no human should possess.
He fisted her head, yanking her so violently to the floor Rosie’s skull cracked on the surface, a scream gurgling in her throat as he dragged her over the rough floor.
“No!” I tried to yell out before Joska’s hand grabbed me by the throat. Sounds I never heard a human make came from him, like hooting noises of an angry gorilla.
Gods, what if they took on the qualities of the fae essence? If his pills were from a gorilla shifter, would they give him the same primal qualities?
My gaze darted around the room, suddenly noticing the characteristics of wild animals instead of soldiers.
A mass of them acting similar to hyenas or chimpanzees were riled up and squawking at the prospect of blood and death.
Some others prowled similar to lions, ready to jump in and tear into flesh.
What if these pills made them the worst of man and shifter combined?
“Markos said not to kill Kovacs yet,” I heard a fae guard yell, but neither Kristof nor any HDF men listened, their cries for blood snarling louder.
Kristof slammed Rosie’s head onto the ground again, her body going limp. He tore at her clothes, causing all the artificial fae to go berserk.
Feral.
“No!” I screamed, feeling energy bubbling up inside me, sparking within my body. When Joska’s boot kicked me hard, I heard my ribs crack, freezing my muscles in place.
A bellow roared in my ears, a form cutting through the savage guards, capturing my attention.
Killian stood there; his expression cold.
Furious. Even with his collar, I could feel his rage, his magic trying to break through.
He swiped a baton off a guard and darted to us, cracking it across Kristof’s temple with a wet thwack.
Blood, brains, and matter sprayed over the floor and across my face.
Killian moved and spun like a samurai, a brutal and beautiful dance, making me see another man under the noble title. One who was trained to kill and fought with skill, which came from a past not of aristocratic blood.
Killian struck Kristof again on the other side of his head with a force that reverberated against my skin. Like a falling watermelon, Kristof’s head burst into bits and chunks, drenched with red juices, meat, and black seeds of his brain.
His body dropped.
Killian heaved with fury, standing over Rosie, covered in Kristof’s blood. He didn’t look like a nobleman. He looked like a warrior. Fierce and deadly.
A king.
There was a hush of disbelief, of awe, all eyes on him as if he were a god.
Then the truth sunk in. A prisoner had just killed a guard. HDF considered that a declaration of war, but before they could react, a man in yellow screamed, pointing at HDF. “Revolt! Kill them!”