Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
“Brexley.” My name carved through the dark, yanking me from the no-thing-ness. The deep voice wrapped around me, roughly pulling me back. “Kovacs!”
My lids flung open as oxygen zoomed into my chest. My lungs expanded, sucking in ravenous gulps.
Bright aqua eyes stared down into mine, holding me like an anchor, pulling me to shore.
Inhaling a shuddering breath, debris swirled down my throat, making me cough and wheeze more.
I curved onto my side, hacking and panting.
“We have to go,” Warwick growled, his voice snapping the world into sharp focus, overwhelming my senses into panic.
Chaos.
Pandemonium.
A shrill alarm screeched through the air, shredding my confused mind. Chunks of dirt rained down from the ceiling, the arena only lit with a few backup generators at the top, the place otherwise submerged in darkness.
And collapsing.
Piercing screams, stomping feet, and shouts echoed off the walls as the stampede of prisoners knocked and crashed into anything that stood in their way, weaving through the clumps pummeling down from the ceiling.
“Come on.” Warwick yanked me up to my feet, my legs wobbling under me. I wanted to ask what was going on, but nothing made it to my tongue as I stumbled after him. Reflex and intuition guided me to follow as madness wailed and boomed around me, fear shooting my survival instinct up to the top.
Act first, question later.
Covering my head from the ceiling pelting us, he herded me toward the tunnel, his hand on my lower back steering me within the pitch darkness, reaching the exit that not too long ago Zander had brought me through. To die.
Warwick held up his hand when we reached the other end.
Stopping, he peered out, then waved me on, jogging down a corridor and upstairs, the dim lights from generators eerily smearing the place in greenish-brown color, hiding everything but outlines.
The shrill alarm and yells from the prison echoed through, shivering up my spine and setting my teeth together.
Dust filled my nose, choking my throat, forcing my tender esophagus to hack violently.
Red, blue, yellow, and gray uniforms swarmed everywhere, most heading for the main tunnel, which led to the exit. Freedom. They rushed the guards trying to block the exit, attacking whoever stood in their way. The guards were quickly losing control.
Pure anarchy.
“No. This way.” His large paw wrapped around mine, tugging me another way, going the opposite way as everyone else. His shoulders were tight, his muscles flexing, ready to attack or be attacked at any moment.
“Freeze!” Guards rolled after us like bowling balls chasing pins, knocking into the back of my neck. “I will shoot!”
Warwick’s grip clenched down on my fingers, shoving and pushing us through prisoners swarming for the exit, resembling schools of fish making their way upstream. But his huge size couldn’t get lost in the sea, standing like a beacon above the rest.
“Halt!”
Gunshots rang out, blasting through the prison over the warning bell, whistling by my head.
“Stop!” More shouts and pounding feet from soldiers came from behind us.
Warwick slipped us around a corner, hauling me into a pitch-black tunnel, yanking me down into the darkest corner. He crouched, pulling me into him. His heat wrapped around me, shielding me, his breath trickling down my neck.
The sound of footsteps tapped the dirt, slowing when they reached the tunnel. Silhouettes of four guards stepped into the passageway adorned with guns, whips, and knives.
“Where did they go?” One grunted, his boot crackling gravel under his heel, the noise snapping at my psyche. “They couldn’t have gotten far.”
“We can’t lose them,” a female guard said, her legs moving faster through the tunnel than the rest. “Everyone else, but not them.”
Two others quickened their pace, rushing with her until the first one stopped. Warwick tensed next to me. Panic jackhammered my pulse as I froze, a knot lodging in my throat, my legs quivering under me.
The guard sniffed the air, his nose going up as if he were trying to pick up on our scents. He took a step closer to us, inhaling in quick puffs.
Fuckfuckfuck.
Terror slammed my heart against my ribs, pounding in my ears. Afraid he would be able to hear it, I bit down on my lip, trying to control my breaths.
Every sense seemed heightened. I was more aware of my surroundings than usual.
Of him.
Warwick’s hand slid over my thigh, strangely calming me and adding to the frenzy in my chest. Without knowing how, I could feel him, feel his reassurance that if this guard found us, we would take him out.
Together.
The guard sniffed a few more times, a growl humming in his throat before a gunshot echoed down the way. Jolting forward, the guard hunted down the location of the shooting, exiting the tunnel.
A relieved exhale dropped my shoulders. Far too close.
“Come on—” Warwick started to stand when an explosion tore through the prison, rippling the earth underfoot.
Booooom!
The ground shivered, and more rubble poured down on us.
Warwick dove for me, his body covering mine as the cave crumbled around us.
His warmth and weight pressed into me as his scent filled my nose, devouring me, tingling every nerve and lighting me to life.
A combo of sweat, dirt, and a deep woodsy smell ignited a hunger in me.
It was irrational to feel this desire in the middle of escaping, but I couldn’t seem to fight it.
The sensation grew more intense when he tucked me tightly against him until the underground building quieted, our heads popping up. We coughed at the film in the air.
“Shit,” he grumbled. “They’re early, or we’re late.” He peered down at me, our eyes connecting for a moment, his intense regard burning into me. He felt familiar. Like I had known him forever. A piece I didn’t know I was looking for. The feeling scraped at my mind and chest.
His eyebrow tipped up. “You okay?” Gruff and almost angry, he peeled off me, standing up. Clearly not at all feeling the odd link I did. Only able to nod, I stood next to him, shaking my head, trying to clear it.
“Fuck.” Warwick ran his hand through his dusty hair, his knuckles curling angrily into his scalp, his attention on the now blocked tunnel exit.
Pacing for a second, he hit his fists against his legs before stomping past me.
“There went plan A. We’ll have to get there another way.
” Warwick nudged me to move, traveling back the way we came, muttering under his breath.
“Plan A?” My gaze shot to his. “Another way?”
He didn’t answer, slinking us up another set of stairs and down a vacant hallway. The stillness after the last explosion was melting away to gunfire and screams of death, icing my chest with fear.
Winding us up a spiral staircase so narrow his shoulders brushed the walls, we came to a landing. I had no idea where we were going, but to me up meant freedom. The notion coated my tongue, making my mouth water with hope.
“Farkas . . .” A voice came out of the murky shadows causing me to jump, a figure stepping in front of us, blocking our way. Disappointment gripped my stomach like a vise. We were so close; I could feel it. To be caught now? “You are late.” The voice set me back on my heels. I recognized it.
“Baszd meg.” Fuck off, Warwick snarled.
“You have her?”
“Yes.”
I squinted, taking a step forward, his face becoming clearer through the shadows. What the ever-loving hell?
“Zander?”
He smiled at me. “So glad you are all right.”
“What’s going on?” I shook my head in confusion.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Gunshots recoiled down the corridor.
“No time,” Zander replied, waving us forward to a door, unlocking it. “Hurry!”
“Is everything set?” Warwick paused at the door, addressing Zander as a begrudging ally.
Zander nodded. “Yes. Head southwest of Gellért Hill. Behind the tree in the old garden.”
Warwick dipped his head in understanding as Zander opened the heavy metal door. Zander’s brown eyes peered over at me, a woeful smile curling his lip, his hand brushing over my cheek.
Another round of pops cracked through the tunnel.
“Take this. You might need it.” He withdrew his gun from his belt, handing it to Warwick.
“You ready?” Warwick shoved the gun in the back of his pants. “Not that I won’t enjoy this.”
Zander nodded, pushing up his chin. Without hesitation, Warwick’s fist cracked across his jaw. A cry broke from my lips as Zander flew back, body hitting the stone, splaying over the ground. Out cold.
“What did you do that for?” I screeched, moving toward the horse-shifter, my heart leaping up in my throat.
“Had to. Needed it to look real.” Warwick grabbed my arm, heaving me away from Zander and pulling me through the exit, the door slamming behind us.
Spiral stairs led up to another door, reminding me of the tunnel Sloane and the others brought me up the first day.
“But fuck, I really, really enjoyed it.”
Had to? What was going on? Zander helped us flee? It was more than him just turning his head while we passed. This had been planned. Zander was left unconscious on the other side to appear as though he had been ambushed and beaten.
“Kovacs,” Warwick hissed, motioning to me to keep moving. “You can cry about me hitting your boyfriend later.”
I jolted forward, my boots slapping against the metal steps as Warwick broke through another door, letting us out into the night.
Into freedom.
Fresh air ballooned in my chest, hitting my face with an energetic slap.
I inhaled the delicious onslaught. Tears filled my eyes as I greedily sucked in more, starving for the fresh wind coming off the Danube, full of the warmth from being soaked in summer sun all day.
I could taste the musky river on my tongue, sour and earthy.
Like a food I used to eat as a child, it brought back a joy I never thought I’d have again.
Liberation.
Life.