Chapter 12 #3
“Let’s see if that answer changes when I ask your group of freaks here.” The guard swung around, holding up a picture. “Has anyone seen this girl . . .”
A scream tore up my throat as I slammed my hand over my mouth, my teeth cracking together to keep it from escaping.
What the hell was he doing here? Terror drove through my veins, locking oxygen out of my lungs.
It charged through every wall, peeling back all my defenses, flaring the magic that was just starting to wake back up, linking the bonds I tried to cut.
I felt him before I even looked.
My skin flamed with heat, my heart slamming in my chest like I finally came back to life. As if every dull color around me sharpened. His body heat licked at mine, daring me to look.
My head twisted to the side. Aqua eyes glowed in the darkness, boring into mine. Hazy and see-through, but I had no doubt he was there. The link surged through all barriers to find each other, my fear calling him near.
Warwick Farkas.
Dressed in all black, he had his hair pulled back. Dirt and cuts marked his face, but the sight of him rushed both joy and terror through me.
Fury rattled off him. A rumble came from his throat, his gaze shredding through me. “Kovacs . . .”
“Come forward now, or we will look through your camp ourselves. My men will turn over everything. And if things get broken or burned . . .” The guard’s voice tugged Warwick’s focus to the scene behind me. To the soldier who held a picture of me.
Tracker.
Dressed in a Ukrainian military outfit. Captain of his troop.
I had no idea what had happened or why Tracker was wearing it, but I knew Istvan’s connection to Ukraine, and the possibilities scared the shit out of me.
Tracker wouldn’t be anywhere without Istvan.
That suggested Istvan was no longer in Budapest, but with Ivanenko and Olena in Ukraine.
Warwick’s gaze locked on Tracker, his shoulders rising, nose flaring with wrath, his gaze dancing over Tracker and every single detail of this place. Taking in the carnival’s name on the side of the wagon.
Fuck. I couldn’t have him find me. Especially now.
Locking down, I sliced through the link, cutting him off. My heart ached the moment I did, his shadow disappearing, a small whimper sizzling through my chest, the vibration of his angry roar echoing in my soul.
It felt like I had cut out my own heart.
“Step forward now and give her over, and we will leave you in peace,” Tracker boomed, peering around the campsite. “You are hiding a fugitive. A dangerous one at that. I promise you it will be worse for you later if you don’t assist us now.”
Esmeralda glanced at me, then at the picture in his hand.
I remembered taking it. Rebeka had us pose for the magazine at a ball a few months before I went to Halálház.
The girl in the picture with the glossy hair, expensive dress, and made-up face was pretty and elegant.
Being trained to be a wife to some abusive nobleman or leader.
She was also naive and arrogant, having no idea what lay in front of her, the sharp turn her life was about to take.
The woman Esmeralda saw was nothing like her. The young, innocent girl hadn’t made it out of Halálház.
“That girl isn’t here.” Jethro folded his arms, his subtle gaze drifting around. Either to find me or to make sure his people understood.
Hank moved in closer, towering over all of them, his arms folding. “Nope. Never seen the likes of that girl before.”
Tracker’s mouth pinched, dropping his arm. “Fine.” He nodded at his guards.
Now I realized why they stood there so stiffly; they were waiting for an order.
Their minds were no longer their own. The effects of the pills coursed through their veins.
That meant destroying the lab hadn’t stopped Istvan.
I should have known better. I knew his mind well; he would have several plans in place.
And I had a feeling Ukraine was a much larger part of this than I ever knew.
The guards stepped out, heading straight for Esmeralda’s vardo, kicking over tables and chairs along the way. Zelda and her twin brother Leander stood in front of their home. Zelda fumed with anger, her arms crossed, not moving.
“Move,” a guard ordered.
“Du-te in pizda ma-tii!” Go into your mother’s twat. She spat at him in Romanian. Leander yanked her away before the guard could do anything. They went into the vardo.
My body moved before I even thought, heading for the men. A hand grabbed my arm, yanking me back.
“No,” Esmeralda hissed, shaking her head.
“I can’t let them destroy everything you own. Your home.”
“You don’t think they will anyway?” Her grip was strong for a little old lady. “That’s not how they work. Plus, we protect our own. No matter what.”
“But I’m not one of you. Why would you protect me?”
“Jethro just made you one of us.”
“What?” I gaped, peering back at him with shock. His word was law here. He was head of the family, and what he said, they’d abide.
“I don’t know who you are or what you’ve done . . . but the Master just made you part of the family.”