Chapter 13
Chapter
Thirteen
It only felt like a moment after I closed my eyes that the guards came tramping in, lights flipping on, my lids bursting open at the intrusion.
Clambering to my feet, I could feel Warwick’s presence bolt up in the cage over. Protective. Wary.
“General is in rare form this morning.” Blondie sneered at me, hitting his baton against the metal bars while Brown Curls swung my cell door open, coming for me with manacles. “You ready, lab rat?”
Snorting, I leaned closer to Blondie through the bars. “And what the fuck do you think you are?” I smirked as Brown Curls cuffed me. “I am the very thing your daddy had to fork over thousands for. And guess what, junior? You still aren’t even close to what I am.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Blondie’s shoulders rose, the bat thwacking the bar at my face.
I laughed while Brown Curls yanked me with him, hustling me out of the cell and down the corridor.
“Kovacs . . .” A growl nipped at the back of my neck.
My neck craned back to see Warwick, his body pressed up to the bars, appearing as if he were ready to rip through them.
There were no words I could give him, no assurances everything would be okay.
My shadow slipped back to him, and without a word, I went up on my toes, pulling his mouth to mine kissing him deeply. The feel of his anger and fear vibrated through me, coiling around my bones, giving me strength.
But it was the other emotion I felt from him that had me gripping onto him for dear life.
“I heard you last night.” His spirit grazed my body as I walked down the hallway while I also stood in front of him in his cell.
His aqua eyes peered down at mine, his hand brushing my dirty hair out of my face. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to swallow back his emotion.
“Same, Kovacs.”
I didn’t need to ask what he heard. I could see it in his eyes, feel it in his soul.
His version of saying I love you back.
A smile lighted my face as his hand clasped the back of my head, pulling me hard against his mouth. Breathing me in so deeply, he couldn’t possess more of me, but I still wasn’t close enough.
With Warwick, it’s never enough.
“Brexley.” The voice plucked the string between Warwick and me, cutting it off with a snap.
Istvan stood in front of me. His icy blue eyes stared at me, his expression unreadable, his frame tense.
The guards moved me all the way into the lab room to him, my gaze catching Dr. Karl next to a gurney—the one the girl died on yesterday. Today, a man of barely twenty was strapped to it. He looked to be slightly drugged, though I could still see fear in his features.
“No.” I shook my head, my body instantly backpedaling, ramming into the two soldiers, who shoved me forward. “Don’t do this.”
Istvan motioned for the officers to take me to the gurney.
Struggling, I tried to dig deep, to find that thing inside of me, the forging fire building back brick by brick.
The magic of a fae queen. It bubbled, but I felt no explosion of power, no electricity or wind striking the air at my command.
I had no way of controlling it, like a genie who had enormous power but couldn’t do a thing until someone else rubbed me the wrong or right way.
Dr. Karl sauntered over to me after I was restrained. Wiping down my arm with rubbing alcohol, he slid the needle into my arm, my body instantly going limp, the fight leaving me.
“I think this time will be better, sir.” Dr. Karl spoke to Istvan, his speech pattern quick and nervous.
He put another needle in my vein, taping it down and turning to the other victim.
“He is much stronger than the last. She was riddled with disease. Clearly too weak to handle it. He is perfectly fine, except for Byssinosis, a Mill Lung disease. I feel positive this will work this time.”
“It. Better.” Istvan’s words were controlled, but I could hear the threat. The demand for a positive outcome or else.
Sweat dripped down Dr. Karl’s forehead, and he swallowed, understanding the same thing.
Curving my head, I allowed myself to look at the form next to me as Dr. Karl hooked him up to the blood bag we’d be sharing.
He had dark eyes and hair and was skinny but all muscle, the kind you got from doing physical labor, day in and out. Young, but already held the burden of a hard life on his face. His head turned to me, his eyes meeting mine; they were filled with a fear—a plea—as if I could help him.
My head jerked, my eyes going to the ceiling, not able to look at him.
Maybe this time it will be fine. What if this does help him? Can I help others?
I clung to that hope, my heart racing through the sedative when Dr. Karl turned on the machine, yanking my blood from my veins.
The knee-jerk reaction to defend, to protect myself, trickled sweat down my spine. Today it hurt more. I could feel every molecule of myself being ripped away this time. The sedative was gone, and my body struggled against the binds, noises huffing from my nose.
“What is wrong with her?” Istvan barked.
“I-I don’t know . . .” Karl was right there, checking vitals and my drip, fiddling uselessly around me.
“Did she already go through the sedative?” Istvan stomped closer.
“She shouldn’t have.” Dr. Karl’s voice pitched up. “I gave her double the dosage, and it took her much longer yesterday to burn through it. It’s only been ten minutes.”
Istvan waved in my direction. “Well, something is wrong.”
“Kovacs.” Warwick stood over me. The grip of his fingers on my face instantly stilled me. His presence was calming, but the pain did not relent. If anything, it amplified. Slicing the connection between us. Shredding my power from me.
It was why I was burning through the sedative faster, why it felt something was ripping me from the inside out.
After last night, the bond between us had become stronger.
There was more to cut, to shred from me, our link layered like generations of wallpaper glued to a wall.
It felt as if someone was trying to rip it away with their fingers, coming off in strips and pieces.
Warwick’s adrenaline pumped through my system, fighting with me, but I could feel him waning, being shredded away from me, like peeling my skin right off my body.
“Hold the fuck on, princess,” Warwick growled, his shadow flickering, before the tie between us was snuffed out.
“Noooo!” I belted, my back arching off the gurney, thudding back down in a crash of metal and cries.
I would not lose Warwick. Nothing would survive if it got in my way.
A guttural scream bellowed from the man next to me, instantly stopping my flailing as he thrashed. His body jackknifed with horrendous wails, blood spewing from his lips.
“What the fuck is going on? What is happening?” Istvan snapped. His default when he got scared was anger.
Red liquid pooled from the young man’s eyes, his body convulsing.
Oh, gods, no. It was happening again.
Dr. Karl pranced between us.
“Do something!” Istvan yelled.
Dr. Karl ripped the tube from his arm, my blood splashing onto the floor in a sea of red. I knew in my gut it was too late.
Crimson gurgled and foamed from his mouth, and the man’s eyes widened, a guttural, terrified noise building inside his chest. It was the sound of someone who knew he was going to die. He let out a howl then stopped, his body going limp. Motionless. His eyes staring blankly above.
His spirit slipped away, just as the girl did yesterday, leaving his shell vacant.
Dr. Karl pumped at his chest, pressing defibrillators above his ribs. It all was for show. He knew it too, but I could see the palpable terror he had of admitting another fail to Istvan.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he fumbled, talking quickly. “I am so sorry. I don’t know what happened. It should have worked.”
Istvan’s jaw tightened to the point that veins popped in his neck.
“Get another one,” Istvan commanded the guards at the door. “And take this one away.”
“What?” Dr. Karl swung to him, eyes wide, while Blondie unlatched the dead body, dragging it off the table.
“We do this again until we get it right. This time no sedative. I don’t want anything affecting the results.”
“But—”
“I don’t care if you go through the entire Savage Lands population. We don’t stop until it works. Everything is riding on this,” Istvan shouted, stomping up to Karl. “Get this right. Today. Do you understand me?”
“Ye-ye-yes, sir.” Dr. Karl nodded, his skin sweaty and pallid.
The door burst open, Brown Curls bringing in the next test subject. My attention went to him and then to the figure next to him—terror carved through my gut, my chest cracking.
He had a girl of maybe ten.
“Noooooooo!” I screamed, writhing against the manacles holding me down.
“Put her here.” Istvan pointed at the now empty gurney. Blood still pooled on the floor around it. The little girl started to cry, wanting her mommy.
“You sick fucking monster!” I seethed, my nails curling into my palms at my sides. “What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have any soul left?”
Istvan’s chin flicked up, his mouth pressed. “I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Understand? She’s a child!”
“Research has shown they are a lot more resilient. Their bodies bounce back.” He defended his actions. “It’s how we evolve, Brexley. Learn. Grow. Wouldn’t you rather know you helped save thousands of lives? Helped cure diseases, take away suffering? I do . . . so who’s the one here with no soul?”
A strangled noise scratched my throat, my arms and legs kicking and knocking against the restraints. The little girl cried harder, running to Istvan as though he was the one who would protect her from me. I was the monster.
I tried to calm down but then Istvan pushed her back to the officer. He put her on the bed, strapping her tiny ankles and arms down.
“It’s okay.” Lie. “It’s going to be okay.” I forced my tone into a calm, soothing timbre. Her whimpers were knife cuts to my gut. “Hey . . . look at me.”