Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
KILLIAN
The plush carpet absorbed our footsteps. My hand was on Rosie’s lower back, pushing her to move faster.
“What the hell just happened?” Rosie whispered when we cleared the bottom level, bringing us to a hallway of painted arched ceilings and stained-glass windows facing the Danube on the main floor. “Why’d he help us escape?”
“Wasn’t about to stop and ask.” I had no idea what had just happened, why an HDF captain helped us, or what that phrase meant, though it clearly meant something vital. Something important enough to trust it over two intruders.
“Okay, Caden, now where?” I muttered into the earpiece, my gaze sweeping every corner of the dimly lit passage, my body alert to any threat.
Nothing.
“Caden?” I repeated his name. The silence pulled my attention to Rosie. Her blue eyes widened with alarm. “Caden, are you there?” Silence. “Birdie?”
“Wes?” Rosie tried herself.
Dread weaved through my ribs when none responded.
“I don’t know if you can still see where we are, but we can’t hear you.”
Not even a crackle of static. The equipment was dead.
“Fuck.” I hissed under my breath.
“What now?” Rosie swallowed, her head dancing around, keeping watch.
“We find our own way.” At this point, we were in too far to abandon the mission.
Sonya’s threat level went from a three to ten in a blink, but that didn’t take away from Istvan’s.
I’d known his character far too long to think he gave up.
He would return to take back what he thought was rightfully his.
“Come on.” I motioned for Rosie to follow, finding another set of stairs down the hall, taking us up to the second floor. With my glamour and our dark clothes, it might fool someone from afar, thinking we were part of them, but random soldiers running around up here would be suspicious.
My pulse tapped rapidly against my throat, my arm out, protecting Rosie as we came into a hallway.
Peeking out, I double-checked for movement.
The corridors were too quiet for such a huge, bustling place.
This was an army base, home, and government building all in one.
There should be endless activity and people moving about.
HDF was like a graveyard.
Stepping out into the passage, I held the air in my lungs, trying to listen for any sounds. The back of my neck prickled. My senses were far superior to humans, and I could easily hear and feel them before they could me. But with Rosie behind me, I took extra precautions.
Right on my heels, Rosie trailed after me. Caden had given us a rundown of the HQ. Drawn up a sketch of the layout. We knew the lock combo and how to get in just in case something happened, but being in the space was far different.
Following my instincts, we snuck down another passage, my eyes landing on a painting Caden had described.
I snorted, my head shaking as I took in the painted image of Istvan, the first king of Hungary, also known as the “King Saint Istvan.” General Istvan Makos clearly idolized him and also wanted the title of “King” and to be thought of as a saint.
Saving everyone from themselves . . . twisting everything he did in his mind like it was a calling or destiny. He was the chosen one.
All bullshit.
“Narcissistic much, Markos?” I muttered under my breath, shifting the painting to find a keypad.
“Guess you two do have something in common, luv.” Rosie’s lilt caressed my ear, making my fingers almost slip up, her voice curling around my body. My shoulders tightened, and I pretended the way she said love didn’t make me hard.
The keypad unlocked, relief flooding my lungs as I plucked the key from the hiding spot.
One step closer.
A loud boom of doors shutting in another part of the building echoed through the empty hallways, voices resonating in low murmurs, rushing blood through my veins, shoving the key into the lock.
Footsteps thumped like drums, moving closer to us.
“Hurry.” Rosie’s head whipped around, her feet prancing.
The door clicked open, and I pushed her in first, my hearing picking up two sets of legs treading toward us.
My heart slammed in my chest, my hand fumbling as I shoved the key back into the hiding spot, barely able to straighten the painting before their footfalls hinted around the corner.
Slipping inside, the door shut with a soft click, locking it behind me, figuring whomever it was would keep going.
The voices stopped in front of the door. Panic surged, my gaze flying around the room, my heart thumping in my ears. Bookshelves, desk, chairs, but nowhere to hide. My attention went to the windows, trying to calculate if we could climb out before they entered.
The doorknob twisted, accompanied by the scrape of a key entering the lock.
Fuck!
Spinning, I grabbed Rosie, yanking her with me, instincts working faster than my thoughts as I dove us behind the long curtains on either side of the windows, her on one side, me on the other. I sucked in and flattened my body against the wall as the door swung open.
It was strange, but it was like I could smell Brexley here, as if her fear and heartache were imprinted against this very curtain.
I didn’t have the connection to her as Warwick and Scorpion did, but there was still something between us.
Something that made me feel like she had stood right here, her own terror bleeding into this very fabric.
“All of this will be cleared out.” A man’s brittle voice resonated against the walls as he stepped into the room.
“Except for his papers in the safe, we can make a bonfire from the rest for all I care. I wouldn’t mind watching him burn with it.
All those years, he made me and my family suffer under his thumb.
The blackmail . . . screwing my wife behind my back. He will see who is in charge now.”
Another person followed the man in but didn’t respond.
“Have a seat.”
“I will stand.” Emotionless and low, the second man responded. Something in it struck a chord with me, the familiarity scraping up the back of my neck.
“Yes, fine.” The first man moved. From my position, I could see a glimpse of graying blonde hair and barrel chest, his arm decorated in medals, moving behind Istvan’s desk.
Lieutenant Henrik Andor. Markos’s second in command.
I knew my enemies and had seen him enough in the Leopold gossip papers to recognize him.
Always behind Istvan, stiff and scowling.
His frame was much huskier than Markos, though Istvan’s arrogance and personality shoved this man far into the distance.
Nothing but a bitter aftertaste left in your mouth, you’d soon forget.
“State your business. I have much to do this evening.”
“Her Majesty is on her way?” The voice clashed against my eardrums, spurning the emotion of hate in my gut.
“Queen Sonya will arrive soon with her troops. Everyone in this city will know who is in command. And I will no longer be anyone’s second.”
My body jolted, my gaze meeting Rosie’s across the way, her eyes meeting mine with the same terror.
Andor and Sonya? What the fuck was going on?
“Thank you for finding their whereabouts so quickly.” Whose whereabouts? Trepidation poured through my blood, my intuition gnawing at my bones. “You will be compensated accordingly, Kalaraja.”
Air evaporated from my lungs, acid burning up the back of my throat.
It took everything in me not to leap out and cut his throat, tasting his blood on my lips.
I knew all about this sick fuck. He had been working for Istvan for years, purely for money; the guy had no loyalty to anyone but the coin, hunting and killing for pleasure.
Kalaraja, Lord of Death, was the name given to him when he became this monster. Few knew much beyond that. Had known the boy, Hazem, as I had. We had a past.
The taste of revenge for his betrayal coated my tongue; the memory of him and the raw anger flushed through me.
I wasn’t surprised he had backstabbed Markos for whoever would keep him flush in kills, though I never even considered Andor to be anything but Istvan’s lap dog. In this cutthroat world, I should know better by now.
No one was faithful.
My attention shot to Rosie, her stunning features and terrified eyes twisting me up. I turned my head away, cutting off any feeling stirring inside, reminding me of the weakness I let myself have once. What a woman could do.
I had learned long ago never to trust. Never to love again.
“I have discovered Ms. Kovacs is not with the rebel army.”
Andor’s head jerked back, showing me more of his face, surprise hinting on his lifted brow, probably the most emotion he showed. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. She and the nectar disappeared the night of the prison break,” Kalaraja stated.
“There are rumors growing louder of sightings of her. And that the King of the Unified Nations has sent his bounty hunters after her. He has spies all throughout the Eastern bloc . . . he and the queen are aware of what she is capable of. They want to destroy her and the nectar.”
Bile lunged up my throat, fear I never thought possible wrapped around my lungs. King Lars and Queen Kennedy had the best of the best.
They would not fail.
“King Lars?” Andor popped up his other brow. Kalaraja must have nodded because I saw Andor’s head dip, his hand rubbing at his forehead. “We must find her first, then. We need the nectar. I want it.”
“There are reports she has been spotted with a gypsy caravan near Ternopil.”
“Ternopil?” Andor stiffened, his chest huffing up higher. “She’s in Ukraine?”
“Rumors.”
“How well do you trust these sources?”
“They have not failed me yet.”
“Then go find her!” Andor barked. “We will pay whatever you want, but get to her before Markos or Lars’s men get to her. Get me the nectar now!” He hit his fist on the desk.
“My expenses and payment up front.”
Andor’s jaw gritted, but he turned to the bookshelf behind him.
Tugging on a book, he pulled away a set of hollowed-out books, displaying the safe behind.
My lungs caught air, locked on the very thing we had come here for.
Andor typed in a code, and after a soft beep, the door unlatched.
Opening it, I spotted dozens of files. All private information Istvan wanted to keep from the world.
Andor pulled out an envelope, plucking handfuls of 20,000 forints.
“This should be enough.” He shoved the wad at Kalaraja.
“Now go. I will not let Markos win this one. He will pay for what he did to my son. For the years, he belittled and threatened me. He will watch everything he’s ever wanted slip through his fingers before I gut him.
He thinks himself so smart. And all this time, I’ve been waiting to strike. But I need that nectar.”
“Yes, Lieutenant.”
“King,” Andor gritted.
Oh, fuck. This was why he was with Sonya. He thought he would be by her side. I wanted to laugh. What a moron. The woman was like a black widow. If for one moment he, a human, thought himself special and that he would benefit from her, he was sorely mistaken.
“My apologies, King.” Kalaraja’s voice was flat, but I knew him enough to hear the tightness in it. To know he’d love to slice through Andor’s throat. And someday, when Andor no longer paid enough, he probably would.
A knock sounded on the door. “Come in,” Andor replied, switching back to the killer in front of him. “Kalaraja, find her. Kill her. I don’t care how, but bring me back the nectar.”
My eyes met with Rosie again. “Brexley,” Rosie mouthed, her expression in utter panic, tears building behind her eyes.
She didn’t say anything more, but I could sense the next words like they were my own.
We need to find her now. And in that one look, I felt the urge to tear this world apart to find Brexley for her .
. . for me. Duty of my role be dammed. And more than anything, I wanted to kill the man who was just assigned to hunt her down and exterminate her.
“Yes, my liege,” Kalaraja said, exiting the room as another man stepped in.
“Sir, Her Majesty and her troops are just arriving.”
“Good.” Andor tucked the envelope back in the safe, shutting it. “Is everything set up?”
“Yes. We are set to attack Vajdahunyad Castle at your command.”
My blood went to ice, and I forgot everything else, air stopping in my lungs, my eyes locked on Rosie’s.
Vajdahunyad Castle.
“No survivors. Slaughter them all. I want Killian’s head on a spike by the end of the night.”
“Yes, my liege.” He bowed, heading back out the door, Andor on his tail. My bones ached to move. Time seemed to stop when Andor left the room, the door finally clicking shut behind him as I listened for his steps to recede.
Busting out from behind the curtain, my only thoughts were on getting to my people, my legs bolting for the door.
“Killian!” My name uttered through her mouth was like its own magic, halting me in my tracks. And twisting me back to her.
She darted for the safe, the reason we even were here. She bit down on her bottom lip, her fingers tapping over the keypad.
“Hurry.” Panic almost overtook me, my fists tapping against my leg.
I needed to get out of here, needed to get back to the base.
I shouldn’t have left at all and been the leader they needed and not been selfish.
I ignored the fact that if I hadn’t come here, I wouldn’t have known about the attack or about the hunt for Brexley.
Rosie moved quickly, the safe opening, her hands reaching for the piles of documents. I moved back to her, grabbing them from her hands, twisting her around, and shoving them in the slim pack on her back. Whatever was in these files would have to wait.
“Come on!” I zipped the bag up, already beelining for the door.
They had found our base.
My people had no indication of what was coming for them. They’d be caught unaware . . . and if I couldn’t get to them in time . . .
Their blood would coat my hands forever.