Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
“Wha-what?” I rasped. A flood of burning ice stabbed through my veins, terror flushing through my body.
“You, Ms. Kovacs, were my first subject. For two weeks, you have been taking the pills, crushed into your meals.”
I couldn’t move my limbs; my lungs struggled to take in any air. The drug causing these people painful deaths had been in my system for weeks now?
“While nothing happened to you, the other subjects became more fae-like before they started to falter and die. Organs failed. Some faster, some slower, but in the end, all their minds would bend, taking orders before perishing.” His shoes hit my covered toes, and he leaned over me, his brows wrinkling, his voice threatening.
“But not you. You have become even more guarded to fae glamour.”
My brow furrowed.
“Tree fairies are very sexual. Almost equivalent to sirens in carnal energy. If a water or tree fairy targets you, no human can resist. Most fae can’t.
” He picked up a strand of my hair, playing with the end.
“I told Willow to focus all her magic on you. My fae guards were about to fuck you on the spot. I was—” He broke off, swallowing. “But you didn’t break.”
I almost did.
He laid the end of my hair down, his fingers brushing my collarbone. “You are not fae. But no human has survived yet. Around thirty have come after you, Ms. Kovacs, and seventeen of them are dead. But not you. Why is that? What makes you so special?”
“Nothing,” I whispered, my head spinning with this truth. “I’m an ordinary human.”
“Lie.” He inched in closer, his mouth hovering over mine, sliding the same strand of hair behind my ear. “You and I both know you are far more than that.” His bright eyes searched mine. For a brief moment, he let down his walls, letting me see a softness in his look, making my throat tighten.
“Then what am I?” I swallowed, terrified, but not for the reasons I should have been.
“I don’t know.” His voice was low as the screaming and muttering from the cages tapped against the bubble we seemed to be in.
“I just know you bewitch and intrigue almost everyone you come into contact with.” His fingers slid through my hair.
“You can block fae glamour, and, it seems, our essence.” The last word curled around me with sexual energy, pulsing around my thighs.
My lungs pumped, frozen under the fae lord’s attention.
“I am the most powerful fae in this country. I don’t like not knowing something,” he spoke. His voice held irritation, but his eyes still moved over me with open interest. “Either I figure it out or . . .” His head tilted as if he was going to kiss me, oxygen sucking through my nose.
“Or?”
“I crush it.” He turned around and strode out, the door slamming behind him. He left me gasping for breath, my head spinning, feeling like I had been hit by a wave—crushed, flipped, and flattened. Killian ripped the ground from underneath me, letting me float out to sea.
“Kill. Kill. I must kill them. That’s the only way.” A voice drew my attention back to a cell. The younger man, Mr. Petrov, muttered over and over, his arms twitching and moving like he’d lost control. “Purify the world. They must die.”
“Who? Who must die?” I took a step to the cage.
His head started wagging, his arms flailing. “Die. Kill.” He started to rock, not appearing to hear or see me. I stared down the row at each one, my chest heavy with sadness and fear.
I could have been one of them. Why wasn’t I? What made me different?
A scream belted from the last occupied cage, the skeleton-like figure who had been wrapped up in a ball let out an anguished wail, spinning me around.
Blood gushed from her nose and eyes. Her mouth opened, her bony hand reaching out through the bars to me, her eyes vacant and clouded over.
She barely resembled a human, but I still wanted to help her.
Fear thudded in my ears, but my feet moved to the cell, where I crouched down next to her.
“I’m here. You are not alone,” I said softly. Pushing against my disgust, I took her hand. I couldn’t tell if she understood or even knew I was there, but I held her hand, feeling her life drain from her, blood pooling underneath her head. And then she stopped breathing.
“I’m sorry.” My throat clotted with emotion, thinking of the pain and fear she must have gone through. It was all my fault. I brought this to Killian’s door, and I also felt guilty for surviving when they didn’t.
Emotion filled my chest. These were people, ones I met at Kitty’s like Rosie, or my maid, Maja’s, kids, trying to survive in the Savage Lands, doing what they thought was the best for their families. A surge of heartache and grief cracked against my ribs.
Suddenly the woman sucked in a violent gulp of air, lifting her head. Her emaciated fingers clutched painfully at me, digging into my skin. I jerked back with a shriek. I scrambled away as the woman’s head dropped back to the ground, her body still while blood oozed from her mouth and nose.
Dead.
Gasping for air, I slumped into the wall, my body trembling. What the fuck? I knew near death your muscles and nerves could pulse out one last surge, but it didn’t make it any less frightening to experience.
“Ms. Kovacs?” At the sound of a male voice, I looked to the left. Iain, the young guard, stood there. “Time to return to your cell.” He held up a pair of cuffs.
I nodded, shakily standing up, numbly watching him restrain me and walk us back to my cell.
Just because the pills had not affected me yet didn’t mean they wouldn’t. I could have been down here, taking the place of the woman, muttering to myself, waiting for my brain to become liquid.
I had to get out of here. My gaze drifted to the Iain, his eyes trained ahead, but I saw his cheeks blush under my scrutiny.
He liked me.
And I was going to use that to get free.
“Damn it, get your finger out of her nose.” A voice hummed through my dreams, walking the line of semiconsciousness. The familiar tenor dredged up the only happiness and safety I had felt at Halálház, making me cling to the dream.
Chirp.
“No, I don’t think she secretly likes it.”
Chirp.
“That’s a lie! I do not.”
Chirp.
“You promised to never speak of that incident again. I did not enjoy it there either,” the voice hissed, sounding very real, rousing me from sleep.
My lashes blinked away something gummy as I skimmed up to consciousness.
My blurry eyes opened on two faces only a breath away from me, and I realized one had a long finger up my nose.
“What the hell?” I mumbled, jolting back, my head ramming into the stone wall as my brain tried to take in the bright colors exploding against the dull gray.
“Ah, little Fishy is awake.”
Chirp.
“You’re the one who woke her up. Don’t blame me.”
My mind scrambled to make sense of what I saw. Was I still dreaming? Was I still in Halálház and everything after had been a nightmare?
No . . . my gaze drifted around. I was still in the palace’s cell where I had been living for weeks. The cot and lumpy pillow were the same, but the figures in front of me did not fit in this new terrain.
“Opie?” I gaped at the familiar figure holding a broom. The brownie with his heart-shaped face, large nose, slightly pointed ears, brown eyes, brown hair, and beard stood before me. On his back, a tiny, large-eared creature flipped me off.
Bitzy.
“Hey, Fishy.” He grinned, brushing back the gold tassel on his head.
“Opie . . .” I repeated, my brain not wrapping around what my eyes were telling me.
Chirp.
“No. I’m sure she’s not brain dead.”
Chirp.
“Hey. I am quite rememberable, thank you very much.” He huffed, putting his hands on his hips, glaring back at the imp.
His outfit almost blinded me. His bottom half was wrapped in bright teal handkerchief-like booty shorts.
His top half was red and yellow buttons strung together with pink laces, like a bra, and a gold curtain tassel for a hat.
His beard was braided with purple ribbon.
“Oh. My. Gods.” I sat up, my head shaking in happy puzzlement. “Wha-what are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” He folded his arms, quirking up a bushy eyebrow. Bitzy rocked her head in an accusatory expression. “You escaped Halálház, without a goodbye, let me add.”
Chirp. A finger flew up, telling me off in multiple ways. “To end up here?”
“Wasn’t my choice.” I frowned briefly, thinking about Warwick’s deceit, but seeing Opie and even Bitzy again had me bubbling with glee, unable to hold on to my anger. “But seriously, what are you doing here?”
“Master Finn is beholden to Lord Killian.” He swung his head, pushing the tassel to the other side.
“And since the prison is in temporary shutdown, we’ve moved here.
Which is a million times better. He has much nicer stuff.
At first, we were in his upper chambers, but .
. .” He fixed the knot of his shorts. “Once again, I drew the short straw, cleaning the prisoners’ cells down here. ”
My lids narrowed. “Just curious. How many times do you draw the short straw?”
“Every time! Crazy, huh?” He tossed up his arms dramatically. “Master Finn says I have awful luck for a brownie.”
Chirp.
Opie’s smile fell, but he didn’t respond to Bitzy, brushing his broom back and forth on my gray blanket. It had nothing to do with luck and everything to do with Opie not following the norms of brownie behavior. This was their way of ostracizing him. But I couldn’t be more thankful he was here.
“That’s okay. At least I can get away with not having to really clean.
” Opie continued to sweep absently at the blanket, forcing a smile back on his mouth.
“I mean, upstairs everything has to be perfect, but down here?” He motioned around with a shrug.
“Minus the shit, vomit, piss, blood, or brain matter, it’s the easiest job ever. ”
“Brain matter?” My eyes widened. Was he cleaning the cages down in the lab?
Chirp.