Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
He sauntered toward me, my body and eyes tracking him as my heart thumped in my chest. But I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
He strode right up to me, his toes nudging into mine.
Craning his neck down, he loomed over me, the heat from him slinking over my skin, wrapping around it, dipping between my legs.
He watched me for a moment before he stepped past me, his shoulder grazing mine as he dipped his head under my shower stream, his hand brushing the water off his face, running through his hair.
“Wh-what are you doing?” I whispered, my voice breathy and nervous.
“What does it look like?” he rumbled, tilting his head back. The water trailed down his face, over his lips. Every word he spoke, no matter loud or quiet, raked over me like gravel until it turned into liquid, dripping slowly down my limbs, seeping under my skin and into my bones.
Hot and burning.
I had never met anyone like him, who held the world in his palm. No fae or human could resist his lure, and I knew it wasn’t magic. Not in here. It was just him.
I forced my eyes forward, away from him, terrified of why he was here, but I couldn’t deny how aware I was of his naked body moving next to me. My skin screamed with his nearness, fixated on the way the water dripped down his physique. “Don’t you have your own shower?”
“Yes.” Dunking his head under the cascade again, his arm brushed mine, jolting me. A touch from him was similar to lightning ripping through my nerves. He grabbed the shampoo off the shelf, his gaze lowering as he poured the creamy gel into his palm and peered over at me.
“Your fight is already over?” I stared at the drops of water clinging to his long, thick lashes, which were so dark they almost appeared like eyeliner. “You can kill that fast?”
“When I need to.” His tongue slid over his bottom lip, swiping up drops of liquid.
I swallowed. “You needed to?”
He peered at me, not answering, handing me the bottle of shampoo.
The beads of water glided over his mouth, taunting me as they rolled over his shoulders and chest, to his stomach, moving lower, inviting me to catch them with my tongue, to taste the salt on his skin.
The urgent need to rise up on my toes and suck off the water, skimming my mouth over every inch of his skin, to take him into my mouth and taste him on my tongue, wracked through my muscles, pulling me to him like a magnet.
I jerked back.
What the hell?
His brow furrowed with confusion, but the expression cleared before I even could decipher it. Running his soapy hands through his hair, he tipped his head under the cascade.
I watched him for a minute, realizing I had no fight left in me.
Not for this. Switching off my brain, I gave in to the bizarre moment.
Dumping the soap in my hand, I followed the same actions, our forms moving around each other as we cleaned the blood and dirt from ourselves, reddish water pooling at our feet, sliding down the drain.
We didn’t touch, but I swore I could feel him glide and slither over my skin, sparking desire through my nerves. Losing myself, I shut my eyes, my senses heightening as the water pummeled my skin, the heat from his body skating over me feeling like hands.
Somewhere in my head, I knew I should be disturbed that this brutal and enigmatic legend was giving me comfort, soothing and centering me without a word or touch. His nearness made me feel I wasn’t alone. He was someone who might really understand what I was going through.
I opened my eyes, staring up at him. He watched me with a guarded expression, his chest heaving like he had been running.
“Why are you here?” I muttered.
“Because . . .” he muttered, his gaze heavy.
“I know where you are about to go. The darkness will seep into you, blackening your soul if you let it.” His voice was rough, oozing down my neck, making me shudder.
“What you had to do out there? Death demands payment from you as well. Compensation for living.” His words pierced my chest with truth, a truth few of us comprehended.
No one left the arena without paying in some way.
“He was your friend?” he asked gruffly.
I was fucking in love with you. Aron’s voice echoed in my mind, his pleading expression at the end.
I nodded, my throat closing. I wouldn’t have exactly called him my friend, but I had a bond with Aron that no one else had. He hadn’t been the only guy I had been intimate with, but he had been my first.
Without warning, my walls crumbled. The grief I had been holding back surfaced with a wretched sob, curling me forward. My hand slapped over my mouth, but the dam had broken, letting my anguish flow out.
Not many had ever seen me cry, only Caden after I lost my father and a few times when the teenage emotions got too much. But the last man in the world who should see me break ripped at my barrier, and I let it fall.
Silent sobs sucked out the air in my lungs. Grabbing for the wall, my spine curved as heartache ripped and clawed at my chest. Trapped behind my ribs, it couldn’t burst through and relieve me of the agony.
The misery, guilt, grief, disgust, and hate swallowed me whole. I slid down the wall and wrapped my arms around my legs. I let the agony plunge out of me and down the drain.
“I can’t . . .” I gasped for air, my nails scraping at my chest, needing to release the pain, sensing the darkness slipping into my head like fog. He was right; death had come to claim another huge chunk of my humanity.
His enormous physique crouched in front of me, consuming every inch of space around me, my gaze not able to avoid his massive cock, mingling thick desire along with my sorrow.
He clutched my chin, pulling it up so I had to look at him, forcing me to suck in sharply.
In that moment, I felt no panic or grief.
Or pain.
It was instant. Relief and serenity poured down on me like honey, soothing and thick, balancing my tipped universe.
“You can,” he growled. “And you will.”
The water rained down on us, his gaze drilling into me. Not a flicker of emotion showed on his face telling me what was going through his mind, but his aura pressed into me, engulfing and oddly empowering.
“You heard me earlier? In the pit?” The question stumbled off my tongue without thought, my tone curious and vulnerable, my gaze searching for something I couldn’t even name.
His jaw twitched, his forehead furrowing. His fingers slid from my face as he abruptly stood. Turning, he strode out of the room, completely naked and wet.
I sat there under the cool stream, staring into the vacant space he left. Zander and the two other guards rushed in, taking me in.
“Are you okay?” Zander started to walk toward me, but he stopped right at the shower line, anxiously shifting from foot to foot.
Was I all right? Far from it, but not for the reason I had walked in with.
I had the most disturbing sensation of feeling centered with him near and then off kilter the moment he left, a fear that something was coming . . . and I had no idea how to fight it or how to prepare.
“Die, HDF bitch.” A hiss crept up the back of my neck, and I jerked my head over my shoulder.
Nothing but blank expressions met me, the regular morning zombies staggering forward, no one looking suspect.
Blinking, I faced back around hearing another threat murmured near me, lacing fear down my spine.
As I limped through the entrance of the bathroom, the figures bottlenecked at the doorway, where we shuffled in like sheep, and suddenly stopped.
Bodies slammed into me, shoulders ramming me, elbows knocked me around with force as whispered threats muttered in my ear.
“I will kill you, Kovacs.”
“Stop!” Still aching from the fight, I bobbed around, trying to stay upright, panic curling in my throat. Yellow, blue, red, and gray uniforms danced around my periphery. Hands grabbed for me, touching me while some yanked painfully at my ponytail, bouncing me around.
Grunting, I tried to shove through the throng with any energy I could muster, my bones screaming in protest. I needed a rest from the abuse of the night before. The crowd only crunched in closer, getting angrier and braver.
There would be no special treatment for winning; my identity changed everything. Now I would be the prize. Kill the ward of General Markos—you win.
A hand crawled into the space, wrapping around my wrist. I tried to tug out of the hold, but it yanked me forward with unbelievable strength.
“She said stop!” Kek’s voice drove through the mob, pulling me beside her, eyes black as night. “Do as she says or deal with me.”
Growls and snarls echoed through the group, but begrudgingly they listened to the demon, huffing away with glares and promises of later.
I sucked in a deep breath, my barriers still wobbly and fragile since being in this very room the previous night with Warwick.
“Jesus, little lamb.” Kek stepped in front of me, crossing her arms. “You have them clamoring for you, even without brushing your teeth.” She winked. I stared. “Your performance last night? I have to say, I’m impressed, awed, slightly frightened, and totally turned on.”
My lips pressed together, not responding.
Speaking cost far more energy than I had to give this morning.
The surge of adrenaline was already plummeting to the ground.
I slept very little, and only because my mind and body gave in to the fatigue.
Besides the mystery of Warwick’s visit, my mind looped with Aron’s declaration, Rodriguez’s cryptic words, and Mio’s eyes.
They haunted me, their cries of death echoing through my mind, bolting me up during the night with a gasp.
On top of it, I hated to admit the absence of Opie and Bitzy this morning stung.
Many days they weren’t there, and I never really thought about it.
But this morning I wanted to see them. I had grown used to their visits, adding a bit of reprieve to the horrific days.
Even Bitzy was growing on me. I couldn’t help wondering if they stayed away because they learned who I was.
General Markos was known to be very anti-fae, killing sub-fae as if they were rodents. Did they think I was the same?
“Seriously, lamb, you gave Tad and me a heart attack.”
I moved to my locker, grabbing my pouch of toiletries, and ambled for a free sink.
“You didn’t hope for my death?” I questioned dryly, pulling out my toothbrush.
“Hope for your death?” Kek leaned on the counter, lifting a blue eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“I’m Brexley Kovacs, General Markos’s ward, daughter of the renowned Captain Benet. As far as I can tell, most here consider those two associations as bad as the worst crime you could commit. I’m worse than a murderer.”
“Well, since you’ve done that too . . .”
I shot a glare through the metal mirror.
“Too soon?” She met my gaze in the reflection.
“What do you want, Kek?”
“Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you. Everyone wants something.” From the moment Warwick stalked away, my mood had turned foul.
Confused.
The anguish crept back in, taking over my mind.
Though the darkness didn’t consume my soul as I thought it would, something about him beside me had made me feel balanced.
Then the moment he left, I was . . . What was I?
Unbalanced? Tangled? I couldn’t explain the odd mix of feelings fluttering in my stomach.
All night my mind had twisted the memory of him so much I wasn’t even sure it happened.
It could have been just a bizarre dream.
“I want mind-blowing sex, a very strong cocktail, a rare steak, and a great massage, but not sure you can provide any of those.” She followed me over to a vacant toilet.
I tugged down my pants and sat down, ignoring the guy next to me muttering under his breath in disgust at my presence.
Funny, I no longer had any concern about how many had used the toilet before me. Germs covered everything we touched and ate here. How quickly priorities and hang-ups changed when survival was your only goal.
“I have no doubt you’d be excellent at the first, but I don’t think I’d be your first choice.
Plus, I think you need me more now.” She motioned to the room.
I glanced around, the space full of glaring looks and sneers.
“What are you looking at, asshole?” she snapped at a man in a yellow uniform on the toilet next to me.
His eyes widened.
“Move,” she ordered.
“Bu-but . . . I’m not done.”
Blackness rolled over her irises again, her lip snarling, her skin bleaching out. “Move.”
With a yip, the man grabbed for his pants around his ankles and ran off.
A smile curved over Kek’s face, her eyes returning to normal. She grinned, clearly delighted with herself, taking the empty toilet to do her business.
“I can take care of myself,” I grumbled, pulling up my pants and heading to the sink, washing my hands.
“I know you can. Anyone watching you last night would realize that. You were unbelievable. Sometimes I swear I didn’t even see you move.
But they won’t come at you one on one.” She stuck her hands under the same faucet I was using, scrubbing hers before we headed out, matching my slow steps taking us to the mess hall.
“Doesn’t hurt to have a demon on your side. ”
In one sentence, I realized how much my life had changed.
A demon on my side.
At HDF, that would be heresy. And just a few months ago, I would have shunned anyone suggesting I would work with not only fae, but a demon.
So much had changed.
How much of the girl who walked into this place was left in me now?