Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
SCORPION
My eyes flew open, my body jerking awake, apprehension washing over me. My lungs took in a stilted breath as I peered around the shadowy campsite, searching for an attack or the reason for my sudden rousing.
Dawn hinted at the sky. The flames from the fire were down to embers, still giving off heat, though it couldn’t combat the freezing temperatures, the possibility of snow lingering in the air.
We had to stay off main roads and away from any inns or lodging.
Too easy to track. But camping in winter with only a fire and a few wool blankets to keep us warm was brutal.
We all huddled close, practically in the fire, resting as much as we could while Killian and Warwick took shifts keeping watch.
Lifting my head, I noticed Killian was down on his blanket, but Warwick was nowhere to be seen.
Another trickle of anxiety dripped down my throat, my neck craning to look over my shoulder at the form lying next to me.
Or was supposed to be.
Sitting up, my unease rose higher. “Hanna?” I whispered, searching the forest all around, thinking she might have gotten up to pee.
I got no answer.
Climbing to my feet, I assessed my surroundings, my breath billowing in front of me as my adrenaline spiked, heating my body. Perspiration dampened my neck, sliding down my back. There was probably no need to worry; Hanna could take care of herself. But I couldn’t shake the warning in my gut.
Where the hell was Warwick?
Yanking my gun from my holster, I crept away from camp, my intuition tugging me into the forest. Dawn inched closer, the sky turning from black to a deep blue, deepening the shadows still clinging to the trees.
Alert and ready for anything to come at me, I continued to slip farther into the woods, listening for any footstep or voice.
I was sure to hear Hanna before she heard or saw me.
I kept quiet. Calling her name would only give away my location if a threat was near.
Less than a mile from where we camped, hums of vehicles and murmurs of faraway voices buzzed in my ear, drawing me forward and intensifying the siren wailing in my gut. The shouts became clearer, sharp, like orders. The ground vibrated from heavy vehicles.
Coming to the edge of the forest, there was an old road. On the other side, some brush and bushes, before it gave way to vast farmland. Open, flat, and bare.
But the field wasn’t empty.
“Bazdmeg.” Fuck. Dread plunged to my feet. My mind barely absorbed what I saw when a hand came around my mouth. A bellow caught in my throat as I was yanked to the ground.
“Trying to get caught?” A deep voice snarled at me, my head pivoting to the side to see Warwick.
“Motherfucker!” I hissed. “I almost shit my pants.”
“Probably not the first time,” he rumbled, his massive build squatting lower behind the brush. “You waiting for them to ask you for breakfast before shooting you in the head?”
“I wasn’t standing out in the open,” I spat. Not that anything I did was good enough for the almighty Legend.
Shouts yanked both of our attention right back to the field. Tanks, cannons, and temporary housing dominated one side, while the middle was filled with hundreds, if not thousands, of men and women wearing military uniforms.
Soldiers.
Dressed in Ukraine garb, they all had a yellow bandana tied around their arms.
“Oh fuck,” I whispered when I realized what it was.
On the bandana was a patch. Istvan’s symbol for HDF, the letters tilted, making up a triangle shape. The same emblem the girls had to sew on uniforms in prison.
It no longer represented just the Human Defense Forces; it was also a symbol of power. Of human purity.
Though ironically, not one soldier here was purely human anymore.
They stood like robots, waiting for an order.
Autocrats didn’t seem to mind hypocrisy or blatant lies if it got them what they wanted in the end.
If they could sell to the masses through fear and righteousness, they would back your cause no matter how untrue it was.
Fear was a powerful weapon. It turned people blind, ignorant, and violent.
“Wishful thinking that Istvan would retire after his loss at the prison,” I muttered, glancing over at Warwick.
“Not looking like it.” His gaze was locked on them, taking in every nuance and detail. “And Markos doesn’t seem to be hiding his plans.”
We were south of the main motorway between Ukraine and Hungary, but any spy could easily find them.
“Istvan will be obliterated if he thinks this troop will supersede Sonya’s.” She had far more manpower.
Warwick’s head wagged. “I think this is just a holding area. They’re waiting.”
“For?”
“More.” He replied. “Markos’s ego won’t take another loss; he’ll make sure he has more than enough fighters.”
“Which takes us to Kyiv.” I bobbed my head.
“We destroy the lab, we destroy his ability to make more soldiers.”
“While Mykel takes Sonya’s out.”
“Let’s hope.” He shifted back on his toes. “We also have to make sure that no matter what, he doesn’t find Kovacs or the nectar.”
Game over if he did.
I licked my lip, not wanting to ask but not able to help myself. “I feel her again.”
Warwick grunted.
“It feels different, doesn’t it?”
His chin jerked to me, then away.
“Before I could feel the buzz, sense her. But this is . . .” Fuck, this was uncomfortable talking about, but if anyone could relate, it would be Warwick. “She feels more guarded. As if she’s being shrouded. But on purpose.” I inhaled. “She’s stronger.”
Warwick’s head tipped back just a hair, but from that action, I knew he got the same thing from her. A power she was learning to control.
“We need to get the hell away from here.” Warwick didn’t address what I said, but I knew him enough now to know I got my answer anyway.
“Yeah.” I nodded, my feet shifting back in the dirt, ready to run for the tree line across the street until something in my peripheral stopped me dead in my tracks.
Terror clotted my throat, horror dancing on my tongue, locking me in place for a moment. Warwick hissed out something next to me, but I heard nothing, fear blocking out anything but what I was seeing.
Hanna.
Her body was stiff, her focus on the army. She walked toward them as if they were singing a siren song. I had seen her like this before. Seen the pull she had to the faux soldiers.
With every step closer, she could be seen. Captured. Shot.
“What the fuck is she doing?” Warwick started to rise, ready to go after her. A growl mounted from deep within. The thought of him touching her took over me, driving me toward her with no other deliberation—she was mine.
Crouching low, I scrambled behind her, my hand wrapping around her mouth.
She let out a squeak as I took us both to the ground, my body covering hers, listening for any signs we had been seen.
My heart thudded in my chest, every molecule listening and waiting, but with every second, no shouts or bullets came.
Exhaling, I kept my hand still over her mouth, anger bristling from me. I looked down at her. “You move when I tell you to, got it?”
Her blue eyes were alert and wide with horror. She nodded against my hand. I peeked my head up, looking at the enemy base.
“On the count of three. You get up with me and don’t look back,” I ordered.
She nodded again.
“One . . . two . . . three.” I climbed off her, keeping low, my hand wrapped firmly on her arm, not letting go as we both scrambled back for the tree line, running as fast as we could.
We stopped a few yards in. Sucking in gulps of air, Hanna leaned back into a tree, bending over her legs, her expression twisting into grief and terror.
Warwick snarled, his footsteps pounding toward Hanna.
“No!” I leaped between them, shoving Warwick back. “Go back. I’ll deal with this.”
Warwick’s nose flared, ready to snap my neck in half.
“I will deal with this,” I repeated firmly, my chin lifted, ready to fight him if I had to.
His heated aqua eyes slid from me to her, then back to me again. He nodded once before taking off toward camp.
My back to Hanna, I took in several breaths, terror still knocking around, adrenaline twitching my muscles. All my fear thumped through my heart, coming out the other side as anger. Slowly I turned to her, the rage crawling up my throat, ready to whip her with it, blackened to ash on my tongue.
Hanna slid down the trunk of the tree, her hands covering her face, guttural sobs racking through her.
“Hanna.” My chest splintered open, and I scrambled over to her, my knees dropping into the dirt. I pulled her into my chest. Her wails went so deep, they were lost in her throat.
“Shhhh.” I wrapped her tighter, rocking her back and forth, my hand threading through her hair. “I’m here.”
Her fingers dug into me, her thin frame shaking harder as she let go.
This woman had gone through so much in the last few months.
Being kidnapped by an opposing group would have been enough for most, but what happened in Věrh?za—watching both her parents be murdered right in front of her, the mental and physical trauma, the abuse, and the starvation was beyond what most could endure.
I had never brought up the times the guards pulled her away or what they did right on the factory floor.
I couldn’t imagine what it took to get up every day.
To also deal with what Markos did to her. He took her humanity. We had seen how the pills changed her old classmates. The monsters they turned into in the Games.
She was becoming one of them.
Slowly. Painfully. Cruelly.
Though all I saw was strength and beauty.
“I-I can’t . . . I can’t d-do thi-this,” she choked into my jacket, her cries turning from frantic to hopeless, tearing through my heart.
“Yes, you can. I will figure it out.” I kept my voice steady as if it was a fact. “I promise.”
Hanna pulled away, agony streaking her face, which hollowed out my soul.