Chapter 8 #3
How did I go from putting my foot down to her going to not only flipping on her going but confirming myself as her partner? Because the sweet ingenue conned me. She may call it acting, but it was pure unadulterated manipulation.
“You didn’t have to come,” Rosie murmured. “If I recall, everyone was against you coming, and Wesley would have been just fine protecting me.”
“Damn right I would have been,” Wesley responded in our ears, his suggestive tone rebounding through the earpieces Scorpion got us from his connection. “Guess I’ll have to show you another way. How about a date with me?”
I heard Hanna snort.
“Playin’ with fire there, Wes,” Birdie muttered, clicking her tongue.
“Shut up, everyone.” Ire gnawed at the back of my neck, cutting Rosie off from answering.
Their flirtation grated on my nerves. “This is only for communication about the mission, not trying to get laid.” The proper noble manner I had imposed on myself for so long was crumbling, reverting me back to my old pirate days. Vulgar and rude.
Rosie was right. No one wanted me on this mission. My face was too recognizable as the leader of the fae. However, being noble and very powerful also came with perks. My powers of glamour were far superior, and I was more than capable of fooling the human eye.
That was the excuse I used, anyway. Righteously and firmly. My decision was laid down as law, saying Wesley was better to stay on lookout, along with Hanna, Caden, and Birdie. Hanna and Caden had knowledge about the schedule and pattern the guards would have.
While across the river, Scorpion, Ash, Warwick, and Zander were checking out the old ruins of Halálház. Two of them knew firsthand what the setup had been like inside. It was a recon mission only, needing to get more information about what Sonya was up to over there.
Should I be back at base, overseeing both missions? Yes. There was no doubt that, as a leader, I should be there. Yet here I was, and I couldn’t seem to regret my choice. The thought of not being with Rosie to protect her made me more unsettled than the idea of turning away from my rightful duty.
“Through the brush and ivy, you will see a hidden gate.” Caden’s voice came into the earpiece. “It’s by the graveyard. Brexley and I used it all the time to get in and out unseen.”
Rosie and I slipped across the street, staying in the shadows, heading for the spot he described.
“More to the left,” Caden stated. I had a tiny camera on my chest, letting him see where we were going and what we were doing.
While the others were dotted around HDF with sniper rifles, Caden was set up with a small monitor to guide us.
The equipment was top-notch, but he still needed to be within a hundred-yard radius of us so things wouldn’t break up.
“Let’s hope they didn’t find it and lock it up. ”
“That would be bad,” I grunted. This was our only way in; if it was locked, mission over.
Rosie pushed through some overgrown foliage, finding the entry, her teeth nipping at her lip as she tugged on the gate. With her second attempt, the gate squeaked, opening stiffly, the hinges almost rusted shut, leaving very little room for me to get through.
Hiding my anxiety, I sucked in, slipping from the outside to the inside of HDF. I never imagined I would be sneaking inside the walls of Leopold as a spy and not walking through the gates as a king.
“Pass the graveyard and head south,” Caden said, though the glowing lights of the old parliament building towered far above the quiet streets and timeworn flats, steering us toward it like a beacon. “The entrance to the barracks, where you will find extra uniforms, is on the northeast entrance.”
Slowly, we wormed our way through the streets. It was late, but it felt eerily off. Not a single flat had even a light on. Anxiety crawled up the back of my neck, and far away, a singular male voice boomed through the quiet night.
Rosie turned to me, her brows furrowing. Her human ears could not pick up on what I could hear.
“Sztrájk!” Strike! “Megol!” Kill!
Grunts and a war cry echoed through the air in unison, scraping an eerie sensation down my bones.
“What is that?” Caden asked.
“We’re about to find out,” I muttered, motioning for Rosie to stay behind me. Coming to the end of a street where it widened into the huge plaza of HDF, we stayed tucked in the shadows.
My chest twisted with dread as I took in the scene before me. A gasp came from Rosie, her mouth dropping.
“Are you seeing what we are seeing?” I whispered, hoping the earpiece could pick it up.
At least a thousand soldiers were lined up in hundreds of rows, performing drills screamed out by an instructor on a higher platform. Not one was out of sync or was messing up. Over and over, their rifles with spears stabbed at an invisible enemy, practicing killing with robotic precision.
What was strange was none of them wore HDF uniforms. They were all in black.
“Strike! Kill!” the man upon the platform ordered in accented Russian.
“Caden . . .” I swallowed. “I think we have a serious fuckin’ problem.”