Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
Warwick’s body would have jackknifed off the table if he wasn’t strapped down. His teeth cracked together, keeping the grunt trapped inside his chest, though it still hummed over the sound of the machine.
It was only a moment before Caden’s body convulsed inside the tank. The horror of what I was seeing, what Istvan was willing to do to his own son, almost paralyzed me more than any sedative could.
This was a trial for Istvan. If this worked out for Caden, he would do it too. At least then he’d have the power of a legend until he could find the nectar.
He would take all of Warwick.
We were both dead.
Hiss, pump, hiss, pump.
Warwick jolted, spit flinging from his mouth, trying to lock down his reflex to pain. His nose flaring, each breath was a struggle as they ripped his soul from him.
From me.
Fury whipped through my lungs. The sensation of him being sliced from my own soul seared venom down into the pit in my stomach.
Forging. Building.
It burned through the drug clouding my mind like a war party, set to burn down everything it crossed.
A snarl was torn from Warwick, his head going back, knocking brutally against the hard surface he was on before a long bellow howled from him.
Suddenly, Caden’s eyes burst open, forcing Istvan to gasp. “It’s working, isn’t it?” he shouted at Dr. Karl. “It’s really working!”
I loved two men, but only for one I would obliterate the world.
I could feel the power inside me. The source that hid under the surface, simmering deep at the edges of my soul. My fear of it, of what the power could do, what a light Seelie queen and a dark Druid were capable of when mixed together.
The Grey.
All I understood was they were taking what was mine. Hurting him. Destroying the bind linking us. Bringing him back to life weaved our lives together forever. I gave him life on that field, a part of me. They were not going to take it away.
“Nooooo!” A current of wind gushed through the room similar to a squall, twisting and coiling my hair up into the air.
Istvan let go, his head darting around, then landing on me, realizing it was me who was doing it.
Fear danced in his eyes. Lightning cracked, the pop of electricity zapping across the room.
“Stop!” Istvan’s voice was lost as my rage kept climbing, a boiling pot of water hitting the rim and bubbling over.
The lights burst, spraying glass across the room, forcing everyone to duck, trying to cover from the shards, leaving us in mostly darkness.
I could feel the souls of the dead coming to me. Their energy zipped around the room, ready to do my bidding.
“Brexley!” I heard Istvan bark from his hiding spot. “Stop this!”
No. I snarled in my head, the energy vibrating through me. I didn’t want to stop. The power was addicting. Thrilling. Like being free. I wanted more.
The spirits whizzed near me in excitement. Another bolt of lightning speared the room, slicing down a row of water tanks, followed by another.
CRAAAAACK!
Every tank shattered. Thousands of gallons of liquid burst out, crashing into the room, a tsunami knocking people off their feet, burning out the equipment, and slamming anything loose into the walls and guards.
Screams and cries bounced around me, but nothing sounded close.
“Kovacs!”
It was the only sound that penetrated. Turning my head, my gaze latched on aqua eyes.
He was still strapped to the table, soaking wet, blood tricking out of his nostrils.
I was snapped out of my trance in an instant, darting over to him.
My fingers unlatched his binds, helping him sit up.
I felt no buzz between us. The link burned out.
But I no longer feared it wouldn’t come back.
“You okay?” Lights spurted and fizzed overhead; just a few on the far wall still lit the room enough to see. The place was quiet of voices, which twisted my gut, but I didn’t have time to think about it.
“Had better days,” he grunted, sliding off the table, his arm around me, legs dipping when he tried to put his weight on them. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
“Yeah . . .” I took one step, my focus taking in the object only feet away, laying in the debris, the water retreating down a drain.
“Caden!” I ran for the body, falling down next to him, water going up to my hips, panic thundering my pulse in my ears. “Oh, gods. Be okay . . . be okay.” I pressed my fingers into his neck.
Did I do this? Did I kill him?
“Caden, come on.” My arms shook as I leaned over him, trying to feel any breath. I didn’t hesitate, starting CPR, my hands pressing into his chest, my mouth covering his, blowing air into his lungs.
“Please . . .” Panic quaked my voice and tears burning my lids before slipping down my face. I recalled so many key memories with my best friend. “You can’t leave me.” I pumped harder, trying to give him life. Once again, my magic was gone when I needed it the most—to save someone I cared about.
“Brex . . .” Warwick’s tone said everything, his hand reaching out for mine over Caden’s chest. The moment Warwick’s hand touched him, a wheezing gasp heaved Caden upright, his eyes bursting open wide.
And I swear I saw his eyes glow, as if fire was burning behind the brown, before he blinked, and they were normal again.
“Oh my gods, Caden!” A cry broke free, my arms wrapping around him. Pulling back, I peered at him. He looked confused and disoriented.
“What the fuck happened? How . . . ?” He looked around.
The shouts of soldiers heading our way from other parts of the underground building volleyed into the room.
“Come on!” Warwick got to his feet as I helped Caden up. “We’ve got to go now.”
Caden was weak, dazed, but alive.
“Do you think you can make it?” I held on to my friend as he swayed on his feet, barely keeping upright.
“No, I don’t think I can.” Caden whispered, his voice rough and scratchy.
A hacking cough and groan came from behind us, spinning me to the noise.
Istvan was stirring awake.
“Go, Brex.” Caden’s gaze went from him to me. In that moment, I saw the love he still had for me. The part of him that would always choose me over his father.
“I won’t leave you.”
“You have to.” He touched my face. “Just know, the moment I went back to HDF—I had to act as though I was with him.”
“Act?”
“I was never against you.” He dropped his hand away. “Now go!” His attention went to Warwick; a pointed expression passed between them. Warwick dipped his chin, answering Caden’s unspoken words.
Warwick moved to me, grabbing my arms.
“No!” I tried to fight him.
“Brexley, go.” Caden helped push me. “I can’t leave her.”
“Leave who?” I asked, while Warwick was leading me toward the exit. “I don’t understand. Come with us!”
“I can’t.” Sorrow flickered over Caden’s face. “I won’t leave my mother.”
My mother.
“Wha-what?” I sputtered in shock. “Your mother?” The pieces were clicking into place—the woman in the back cage before the door shut.
The image of her huddled on the floor, her eyes meeting mine briefly.
Nothing about her would be recognizable as the elegant, graceful perfection of the woman I grew up with—the one who could be a queen.
This woman was dirty, gaunt, beaten, scared, and in filthy rags.
Except for the eyes. Her son’s eyes.
“Oh, my gods . . .” My hand went to my mouth, the realization knocking like a drum. “Rebeka.” She was here. This is where Istvan had hidden his wife. Was he using her as a lab experiment?
Yells from guards, followed by a groan from Istvan, captured Caden’s attention.
“Go,” he ordered again.
“No, I won’t leave either of you.”
“You don’t have time, Brex.” Caden wheezed, his throat raw, his legs still unstable. “He will kill you. He’ll kill both of you.”
Warwick gripped me tighter, trying to get me to move as pounding steps came for us. Time was running out.
“What about you?” My feet shifted with Warwick, but I still leaned toward Caden.
“I’ll be fine,” Caden said to me, but his gaze went to Warwick. It was odd, but I felt them understand each other. A nod of the head.
“állj!” Stop! A bark came from the main doorway.
We whirled for the only other exit out of here, the one leading back to the cells.
“Get them!” I heard Istvan’s voice strain, climbing up to his feet. “Shoot to kill!”
“Fuck!” Warwick hissed, both of us ducking as shots rang out over our heads, spraying sparks down on us.
Ankle-deep in water, the equipment floated around like a minefield, slowing our retreat.
I paused, swiping up a piece of debris I could use as a weapon—a broken piece of thin pipe with a jagged edge.
It wasn’t a gun, but anything was better than nothing when guards and bullets were heading straight for us.
“Come on!” Warwick yanked me through deeper sludgy water, things bumping my leg. Peering down, a scream caught in my chest. A dozen dead bodies floated on the surface, some face down, some staring blankly above, but it was the one knocking into me that held my attention.
David Andor.
Seeing his lifeless carcass and empty eyes slithered around my ribs, tightening in and choking the air from my lungs. He was dead. All of them were dead. Not one person had survived in the tanks. I had killed them, whether with my magic or by cutting off their air. They had all perished.
Except Caden.
Bang! Bang!
A squeak lobbed up my throat as we ducked and weaved to avoid bullets. Warwick shoved the door, breaking us through to the familiar passage which led to our prison.
“Don’t let them escape.” Istvan’s voice boomed from behind.
“Where the fuck do we go?” Warwick yelled back at me, our feet pounding across the cement, our wet clothes weighing us down. “This leads us right back to our cells.”
Shit. Shit. Shit! My brain whirled, trying to figure a way out of here.