Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
WARWICK
“This is fucking insane, Kovacs,” I muttered more to myself, though she heard me just fine through our link.
The purr of motorcycles, Hummers, and trucks, filled with weapons and bombs and what was left of our army, moved toward the heart of Budapest. A few horses Markos left behind followed Zander’s lead, my sister on the horse-shifter’s back, perched high, her expression set with determination, reminding me so much of mother.
They had the same stubbornness.
“Eliza, you aren’t going.” I had practically stomped my foot when we were gathering up supplies earlier.
“Excuse me?” She tipped her head, her hands on her hips.
“What about Simon?” I motioned to where Esmeralda was reading stories to the children to keep them calm and occupied.
While Olek, still hooked to an IV, had some of the elderly folk at a picnic bench, following his steps in creating bombs.
The feeble old human was a hell of a lot stronger than he looked.
Morning had come with dreary, cloudy skies, which only seemed to shadow and highlight the burned-down remains of the house. Everyone had made it out, but like the heavy ash in the air, tension and fear filtered in your lungs with every breath. We all knew what was ahead. What the chances were.
“This is my fight too, brother.” Eliza glared at me.
“I can’t have something happen to you.” I almost seethed, my voice low. “Simon needs you.”
“I won’t sit back.”
“Your son would rather have you alive.”
She hissed, stepping back. It was harsh, but I needed my sister to understand. To hear the truth.
“I may not be as skilled as you, but I can fight. And I will fight. For this country, for me, and mostly for Simon.” She challenged me.
“I want my son to have a future. To be proud of his country. Proud that his mother, uncle, and all the people who love him, stood up and fought. Fought for freedom, for others, for what was right.” She turned around and strode over to where Wesley, Ash, and Lukas were handing out weapons to all those coming with us.
“Stubborn, pig-headed, and proud.” Kovacs slipped up next to me, nudging me with her shoulder.
“Right? She’s being impossible.”
“I was talking about you.” Brexley peered up at me with a wink. “But those traits run deep in the Farkas family.”
I sighed, a frown crinkling my brows with the realization that my mate was ten times more obstinate than my sister.
I was fucked. Though I knew that from day one.
Determination and pride weren’t just a Brexley or Eliza trait.
Strength and fight was bred into the DNA of the people of this land.
The Eastern bloc had always been at war, suffering starvation and fighting tyranny at every turn.
There was never a day we weren’t battling for one or all.
We fought, we scraped, and we survived, even if everything fell around us.
We had leaders come and go—freedom and democracy always sliding one way or the other.
But the people here never gave up. It was all we knew, and we got up and continued to fight.
“Insane, but it’s all we’ve got.” Brexley’s shade against my ear snapped me back to the present, responding to my muttering.
Her arms and thighs latched around me, spearing warmth down my vertebrae.
The feel of her, the intangible bonds tying us together, the thought of ever being without her—terror so deep shot through me, locking every muscle down at the idea.
I knew without a doubt that wherever she went, I would go too, whether in life, death, or somewhere in between.
Ash drove the Hummer right behind me, Killian forced to take the passenger seat, Lukas and Kek in the back.
We had barely kept Killian from going after Istvan immediately, getting himself killed.
I had known Killian for a long time. Never once had I seen his controlled, aloof demeanor drop.
Torturing or leading, he held the same reserved, regal manner.
Ruthless when he wanted something. Always above, always collected.
That was until Rosie. For once, there was nothing I could fault him on, because if it had been Brexley instead?
No one could have kept me from going after her.
The notion that Istvan would have taken Kovacs if the opportunity had been given to him made me want to rip the man apart, but instead he used Killian’s weakness to escape.
Caden and Birdie rode on a motorcycle slightly behind us, Eli and Ember on our other side.
Scorpion, Hanna, and Wesley were in a truck in the middle, while Kitty, Rebeka, and Mykel drove in a Hummer at the back.
The rest of the group were riding horses, in trucks, or on motorcycles.
Our group was barely a hundred people now.
Sunset had already dipped the temperatures, the night seeping in, making it harder to be seen but also more difficult to see enemies hiding.
It was obvious Istvan had already come through here.
Dead bodies of Sonya’s soldiers lay where they dropped at all the roadblocks into the city.
The eerie quiet was thick with souls still hovering near, crawling against my skin.
Through Brexley, I could feel the spirits, as if they had died so fast and unaware that they didn’t realize they were no longer living.
Turning off the main motorway, I could see the dome of HDF peeking above the tops of the buildings.
So many times, I had looked upon it with hatred.
It represented power, greed, and oppression, while the rest of us suffered in Savage Lands.
Now it meant something different to me. A symbol of potential, of what our country could be, of what we were fighting for. It belonged to all of us.
We descended into the city, following the wall that had protected Leopold and its wealthy for so long. My skin bristled with magic. The air was thick with unmistakable tension. It was palpable, sticking in my throat.
Caden and Brexley both knew Istvan would bring the fight here. He needed to reclaim his sector, to take back what he considered his. To let it go would show weakness. He either took it back, or he’d burn it to the ground. No in between.
I was ready for troops, tanks, and weapons. I had seen it all before. Though this time, when we rolled to a stop at the edge of the wall, I felt every bone in my body go cold.
I wasn’t prepared.
“Bazdmeg.” Fuck.
From Liberty Park to the river, it was a sea of endless soldiers standing in perfectly spaced rows.
Thousands of faux-fae, dozens of tanks, and just as many cannons surrounded Leopold, at attention, ready for Istvan’s order.
The troops in front were silent, robotic, which pulled your attention toward the back, to those who no longer appeared zombie-like, but monsters.
They shifted on their feet, sounds gurgling in their throats, looking like predators ready to attack.
The unnaturalness of either group crawled over my skin.
Istvan was bending nature, trying to control it, changing and manipulating the laws.
Humans, in their pursuit of power and money, never seemed to learn that if you messed with nature, it usually fought back.
Guards dressed with Sonya’s emblem on their chests lined the tops of the walls along with guns and cannons around Leopold, pointing back at Istvan’s troop. This would be a blood bath.
“Andor!” The same speaker Istvan used on us blared through the night, darting my eyes to the tank behind the troops at the gate, his “special elite guards” around him, the ones who were rich enough to be created in the water tanks.
Smart. Strong. In control. Making them even more deadly.
“Come out and face me, traitor. Though what did I expect from you? You have always been a coward. Weak and pathetic. Always hiding behind someone else’s strength because you had none.
So scared you bow before a woman. Turn against your own people to save yourself. ”
The silence lasted for a long time. Istvan wasn’t one to speak and get ignored. His ego was too prideful to be slighted.
I heard an order shout through his troop, two cannons rolling closer to the gate.
“You’ve become predictable, Markos. Your bruised ego is easy to foresee.
” A voice rang out from the walkway high along the wall.
Andor stepped up, examining Istvan from his perch.
“It’s made you blind to what lurks behind.
Your greed and obsession will be your downfall.
” A smirk twisted Andor’s mouth, but it was Istvan who laughed.
“Oh, Henrik . . .” Istvan clicked his tongue. “It is you who could never see the bigger picture, who never understood what it takes to be a true leader.”
“Really?” Andor smugness stretched his shoulders back, peering up at a building behind Markos. “You overinflated your skills, Markos. Always have. It is you who has a gun pointed at your head. My sniper is ready to drop you where you stand before you can even blink.
Istvan let out a malicious laugh. “You are such a fool. I am already ten steps ahead of you. So gullible to think he was on your side.” Istvan’s head lifted, nodding just slightly, signaling his next move.
The recoil of a gun was barely caught on the wind before Andor’s body jolted in shock as a bullet drove between his eyes.
He blinked in shock, his expression in utter disbelief that he had been caught so off guard.
That bullet was meant for Istvan and not him.
His body collapsed, falling over the wall onto the ground with a crunch.
My head followed the trajectory, going to the top of the building behind Markos.
“Fuck,” Killian whispered next to me, his attention on the same thing, understanding what we all did.
Kalaraja.
He had never left Istvan.