Blood Lands (Savage Lands #5)(14)

“Should I even ask?” I rubbed my eyes.

“Do you like it? Needed a little whimsical fun today.” Opie twirled, showing me the thong back. “I mean, the color is so drab, so I wanted to make it fun. When I walk—look—the snake bobs and weaves.”

I groaned, rubbing my eyes harder as he pranced up and down my leg, showing me what he meant. “Not that I wasn’t scarred enough, but it’s not what I meant.”

Chirp!

Opie rolled his eyes. “Stop putting this on me. You were the one who wanted to see him.”

“Who?”

“The pretty one with the mushrooms.”

“Ash?” I sat up quickly, making Opie stumble.

“Yeah.” Opie centered himself on my thigh, his palms up. “Let me warn you, contrary to the noises he makes before waking up, he does not want his fingers, toes, or ears being sucked on.”

“And why were either of you sucking on them?”

“I wasn’t. She was!” Opie pointed at Bitzy.

Chirp, chirp! Bitzy motioned her middle fingers back at Opie.

“Leave Ash alone,” I scoffed.

“Wasn’t me!”

Chirrrrrrp!

“It wasn’t either of us. I was just saying, with no reason at all, there is a good possibility he doesn’t like it so much.”

Chirp!

“Right, he didn’t mind it when he was asleep.” Opie nodded to Bitz. “But again, I have no real reason or reference to saying this. Just an arbitrary passing thought.”

“Why were you there?”

“Oh, no reason.” Opie and Bitzy blinked at me innocently.

Probably hoping Ash still had remnants of mushroom on him. I wanted to believe it was because they cared about him also. They were checking in on our twisted, crazy family.

“He’s okay?”

“His vocabulary is in serious question. The names he called her? Wow.” Opie thumbed over his shoulder, shaking his head.

Chirp-chirp. Chirp, chirp-chirp! Chirp! Middle fingers flared through the air. Bitzy sounded as if she were spitting out every curse word under the sun.

Opie’s eyes went wide. “See? She shouldn’t hear such things—so impressionable at this age.”

I snorted. Bitzy was probably dozens of centuries old.

“But yes, Blondie is fine. Before he so rudely told us to vacation in a warm place, he asked if you and the big man were okay. Where is the walking grenade launcher, anyway?”

My shoulders sagged, my thoughts going to Warwick. I could still feel the remnants of him inside me, causing my body to crave more. I tried to reach out to him several times, but he was able to keep me back as if he didn’t want me to see him in pain. The moment he slipped, I would push through his barriers, taking on his agony, numbing it enough to keep him together.

It was how we made it out before. I thought he was a hallucination, but our link had bled through last time. We had helped each other survive, and I wouldn’t abandon him now. Or ever.

Last night he won the battle only because the drop of adrenaline, the dissipating of my numbness, crashed me to earth, tearing through, making me almost immobile. More pieces broke off, falling into the boiling pit in my soul. My howls of misery were drowned out last night by so many others who were grief-stricken.

I wasn’t the only one who lost a father figure and idol. Andris was a patriarch, a leader, a friend to thousands of fae in the resistance. Their voice, their purpose. I couldn’t be greedy in my suffering; many had shared my anguish last night, though I would always be the one who had pulled the trigger.

They also lost a friend and comrade. Zuz and I may not have been close, but she was to many at Sarkis’s base. And again, most would always look at me as her murderer, no matter how much they said they understood.

“Master Fishy?” Opie spoke quietly, pulling me from my thoughts. Sniffing, I wiped at the renegade tear. It would be my last to be seen in the daylight.

I could have fallen apart, could have let Istvan break me, but in forcing my hand, he cut off another idyllic part of me—the part that wishes for someone to find them, that cries for others to help, to have pity.

That shit was just fairytales.

I understood Warwick even more than ever. The people you chose to be part of your family you protected by destroying and slaughtering the world to keep them alive. I had brought many people into my circle, and I would do anything to keep them safe.

“Find a way out of here and kill everything standing in our way.”

A plan started to form in my head. Getting out of here was the first step, and I needed everyone to help, especially Killian. Time was of the essence, and it wouldn’t be long before Istvan had him in the pit fighting to the death. The problem was, it was almost impossible for us to communicate.

My gaze went down to Opie.

“Uh-oh... your look worries me, Fishy.”

“I think you would look terrific in a messenger’s outfit.” I tapped at my lip.

“Hell, yeah I would...” He paused, tipping his head, his head wagging, taking in my intention. “No. N-O. No.”

“No?”

“Do you know what happens to the messenger?” He tossed out his arms. “They get killed, whacked, murdered, stabbed, shot, executed, beheaded, and chopped into little pieces every time. They are nothing more than a sacrificial lamb. So, no! No matter what, I won’t do it. Absolutely one hundred percent—NO!”