Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
brEXLEY
Bullets sprayed into the campsite, tearing into the wagons my friends were hiding behind, chunks of wood splintering like daggers as Caden and I leaped behind the closest one, scrambling up with Birdie, Scorpion, and Wesley.
“This asshole really needs to die.” Birdie double fisted her favorite guns, shooting at the army coming at us, but it was Scorpion firing like killing Tracker was his only goal.
His expression was pure rage; his blame focused on one man.
Scorpion’s emotions were like gasoline spilling over the ground, ready for the match to strike.
What happened to Hanna was all Scorpion zeroed in on.
Leaving Caden with them, I darted to the next wagon, diving between Ash and Warwick, their bodies on the ground, firing back from under the vardo.
“I told you to stay put.” A growl rose from Warwick’s throat, and he glared at me.
“And do you see how well it goes for you when you tell me what to do?” I wriggled between the two men, pointing my gun at the army coming at us.
Warwick snarled, his head shaking.
“Plus.” I glanced at him. “Know this. In coming for me, you made a mistake.”
His head craned to me; his brows furrowed.
“You’re mine forever now, Farkas. I’m not setting you free again. We are in this together. We fight together. We die together.
His eyes darkened, his shoulders expanding, his head leaning into mine. “Know this. I wasn’t free until you, Sotet démonom,” he muttered for only me to hear, his mouth brushing mine. “And we fight, fuck, and survive together. Whatever it takes.”
“Whatever it takes,” I whispered back before his lips quickly claimed mine.
“Hey, you two horny freaks, can we focus?” Ash huffed, refilling his weapon. “Kind of in peril here.”
“Foreplay for us,” Warwick muttered, turning his attention back to the legion advancing on us. “And you have no room to talk about being a horny freak.”
Ash grinned, his head bobbing. “Fair enough.”
Bang! Crash!
A bullet shattered the widow of the vardo we were hiding under, dropping glass down on us.
“Make it easier on yourself, Brexley. On your friends.” Tracker’s voice boomed through the night, the music from the circus tinkling behind him. “I will let them all live if you hand over the nectar. We know you have it.”
A fist knotted in my chest, making it hard to swallow.
“They don’t have to die for this. Just surrender yourself now.”
Warwick snorted, Ash laughing out loud. I could hear Killian, Rosie, Kek, and Lukas behind the wagon on our other side snicker. All my friends disregarded his directive.
I was probably the only one who didn’t laugh. I was so sick of people I loved getting hurt to protect me.
“Don’t even think about it, Kovacs,” Warwick’s shade grunted in my ear.
“Last chance, Brexley,” Tracker taunted.
“Baszd meg.” Fuck off, Kek yelled out. “Egy szemétláda vagy.” You are a douchebag.
“Oh, Kek . . .” Tracker purred. “You’re one of the first I can’t wait to put down like the monster you are.
” He swung out from behind a tree, holding a shiny new semi-automatic.
The bullets shredded across the wagons, ripping off the wood, spraying underneath, ripping up the grass and dirt.
We scrambled back for safety, seeing the spots we had just been destroyed in seconds.
“Szar!” Ash hissed.
We had all kinds of guns in the east, but this was a top-of-the-line black market machine gun. And Tracker had one, which meant Istvan had the means to get them.
“Fuck.” Warwick yanked me farther behind him, getting us behind a wheel, firing back while more and more soldiers moved in. The handful of us had no chance against the army coming at us.
A group of soldiers held torches, moving in on the wagons, ready to light them all on fire, starting with one that held animals inside.
“No.” My heart squeezed, tears burning under my lids as I watched the spare horses not being used in the circus tonight flick their heads and stomp, kicking violently in terror. The wild tiger yowled in fear, pacing frantically.
Tracker was going to let them be burned alive.
Something black and sleek moved behind the men surrounding the cages. The glint of moonlight reflected off what looked like blades going down its back. What the fuck is that? When I blinked, it was gone.
“Last chance, Brexley,” Tracker threatened, his finger on the trigger as he ordered his men to set the camp on fire.
Before my mouth opened, a choking sound came from one of the soldiers, his eyes wide in fear, blood gushing from his neck.
One by one, the men with the torches dropped to the ground as blood sprayed from their throats, their deaths happening so quickly they didn’t even scream.
We couldn’t even see what killed them.
For one moment, no one moved. Something prickled at my neck, my gaze finding red wolf-like eyes burning through the darkness, sending shivers through my body. My intuition told me not only did it kill those men, but it was what had been hunting me.
It was coming for me.
Scorpion yelled in fury, darting from his hiding spot, his gun spraying down whatever was in his way, his eyes locked on Tracker. His wrath set on the man he felt took Hanna from him.
“Fuck!” Warwick leaped out, knowing how fast this could go south. Ash and I followed suit, taking advantage of their moment of confusion.
Gunfire volleyed around, ringing in my ears. Tracker pointed his machine gun at me. Warwick roared, moving in front of me, ready to take the fire. Tracker’s finger curled around the trigger; the power of the weapon would shred through Warwick, flaying him wide open.
Killing him.
The notion of losing him, of watching it happen and not being able to do anything to stop it, triggered a rage so deep, a love so pure, there was nothing I wouldn’t do. He was carved into my bones; every cell declared him mine.
It was a drop of a pin. A single match released into a tank of gasoline.
My magic burst from me like a volcano. Wind howled off the river, spinning and slicing over the land like a hurricane, taking on my fury.
“Attack,” I ordered. Ghosts moved around me, heading for my target, making my hair fly around my face.
A flicker of lightning charged over our heads, the ground vibrating with a rumble.
More and more spirits came, lining up like a troop, marching forward on my command.
Under my control. I could feel the weeks of training tightening my rein on them.
The power I had in controlling them. It took so much energy from me to have them physically interact with the living, the effort already making me dig deeper, straining to keep my rule.
“Fuck!” Tracker stumbled back, his gaze darting around, searching for the invisible attacker. “What the fuck?” Tracker retreated farther as the spirits ripped the gun from his hands, tossing it into the fire. Terror widened his eyes, his gaze going to me. “Whatever you’re doing, stop!”
I smiled, pushing the ghosts harder at the soldiers. “Kill.”
My invisible soldiers took my order.
Tracker’s body jerked back as deep scratch marks bloomed with blood covering his face, then grabbed his chest. The ghost twisted at his heart.
My magic was waning. It was getting harder to keep them all on my plane, interacting with the living.
The buzz from the nectar hummed on my hip where I kept it. It wanted out. It craved more. I could feel the power calling to me to set it free. Every second, my own magic faded. The connection with Warwick and Scorpion would be gone again. And I would be empty.
It didn’t have to be that way. I could just use a little of the nectar . . . just a touch.
I reached down, unlatching the box.
“No, stop!” A voice cut from the side, whipping our heads in the direction.
Esmeralda stood there, her arms up, her face twisted in panic, but it was Tad’s gaze on me. “Don’t do it, Brexley!”
Pop! Pop! Pop!
Gunfire speared into her torso, her body jolting as a guard pulled the trigger. A shriek burned up my throat watching her small petite frame collapse to the ground. In the distance, Zelda and Leander screamed out, running for their grandmother.
Everything flipped, putting it in slow motion, where all my senses were no longer in color.
All I saw was black. All I felt was darkness.
Anger. Guilt. Grief.
It was too much. Another death. Another hole in my heart.
My gaze darted to Tracker, to the soldier who fired at her. I wanted to feel their deaths. To experience their pain.
“Kovacs?” I heard Warwick call to me as my hand opened the box and wrapped around the nectar, letting it take over.
Energy discharged through the atmosphere, crashing against every mass in its wake. Bodies flung to the ground, and screams echoed in the distance as lightning cracked down from the sky, scarring the earth.
All my training evaporated, the power in my hand too strong for me to fight. With the nectar, I felt invincible like a queen who hungered for supremacy with black magic which reigned dominant.
Right. Wrong.
Light. Darkness.
Hero. Villain.
None of it mattered.
I was pure power. Nothing equaled me.
Crack! The zap of lightning glowed in my peripheral, becoming brighter, the cries muted as my soldiers attacked, slicing through Tracker’s men like lambs to slaughter.
I could feel myself pull more and more from the nectar.
Or was it pulling from me? I didn’t care.
The line of balance grew smaller. My hunger craved more. The high was intoxicating.
“Ko-vacs!” Warwick’s shade bit at the back of my neck, trying to reach me. “Stop!”
Tracker dropped to his knees, his wild gaze meeting mine, no longer the zealous soldier of General Markos.
The one hiding his fear in arrogance. The guy who once loved Ava but let his insecurities lead him down Istvan’s path.
Weak-minded, he allowed himself to be controlled, which is why he became a tyrant.
Pathetic.