Blood Lands (Savage Lands #5)(37)
“Kovacs.” A tingle started up my thigh, the lightest touch sliding through my folds.
“Fuck.” My back arched, oxygen catching, my hands rolling into balls, my nails digging into his knuckles.
A noise came from Warwick, filled with dark desire. Carnal.
The invisible ghost of his hands palmed my thighs ever so lightly, pushing them apart, his mouth skimming lightly through me. Even the hint of his touch and my body reacted, pulsing hotly, feeling it spread through my veins. I held onto his actual hand, my lids slamming shut, my nipples hardening, my skin crackling with energy.
“Warwick.” I bit down on my lip, feeling him more prominently with each beat of my heart. His tongue slid in deeper, lips sucking and nipping.
“Oh, gods...” I croaked, my body responding, my hips lifting, pushing against his presence.
My lashes fluttered open, my gaze landing on blurred aqua eyes, glinting with hunger, his fingers teasing my entrance.
Lights abruptly flicked on through the room, like morning had just been turned on by a switch. The air was filled with the sounds of men yelling and metal clanking. I jolted with the sudden harshness, my hand letting go of Warwick’s, slicing through our link with a cleaver. My body screamed with anger, being torn from bliss and plunged into fear in a second, pounding my pulse in my ears.
Scrambling up to my feet, I stood against the far wall. Armed guards came straight down the row for us, the soles of their shoes pounding across the cement in a steady rhythm. A sound that screamed pain and danger. Dread sunk in my stomach, knowing my reprieve was over.
Unlocking my cell, they ripped open the door, barking orders at me. Hands grabbed me. Cuffs circled my wrists. They heaved me out, practically dragging me down the passage.
“Kovacs!”
My head whirled around, catching Warwick’s eyes. His hands circled the bars.
“Whatever it takes.”
It was not a request.
The cluster of guards hauled me a different way than we came yesterday, the underground passage growing brighter with lights the farther we went, reminding me of the passages Ash and I went down to get here.
My head jerked to the side as we passed another set of cells. This one was filled with children, crammed together, all various ages and races, but all fae. The older ones seemed to take on a parental role, holding the younger fae, who could only express their terror through wails. They were all still children, but they looked far past their years. Their eyes were devoid of hope; they were only surviving because that’s what we did. The will to live was built into our DNA.
My gaze searched the single cage, hoping to see the little girl I had seen on the table when Ash and I came in. The one I promised myself I would help.
She wasn’t there.
I knew it already; there was no way she would have survived, but it didn’t stop the wretched sickness from charring the back of my throat and watering my eyes.
A young boy of barely six stretched his skinny arm through the bars, trying to grab one of the guards, whimpering, “Hungry...”
“Get the fuck back—disgusting, dirty fae.” A guard tugged his baton from his belt, banging against the bars. An older girl with feather-like hair yanked the young boy back quick enough; the club missed hitting him. She pulled him to her, glaring at the guard.
Then the little girl’s eyes met mine, her walls still up, but she watched me with curiosity before I was dragged away from them. Acid gurgled in my stomach with heartache and anger, rage sparking adrenaline into my vessels. The feel of energy pumped off my skin.
We turned down another hallway, a set of doors with a card-only entry next to it.
My throat tightened, struggling to swallow, anticipation grinding down my esophagus. A guard swiped his card, the door opening. I knew in my gut what was on the other side, but I still wasn’t prepared for it.
A wheeze cut up my throat, the sensory overload like a gut punch. The loud beeps, machines humming, and pained cries rammed into my ears. My nose picked up on cleaning products, piss, and body odor, while my sight felt overwhelmed by activity, trying to take everything in.
The dome ceiling above, from which Ash and I had peered down, gave the room a vastness, which echoed all the pain and horrors in the space. It was so different to see it from above, peering down through the glass, than being right in it.
They had twice the tables I recalled from last time, each one filled with fae. Small to tall, skinny to fat, young to old. They were hooked up to those machines, being forced to shift while being drained of their essence. Some fought and cried while the rest lay there, with no life left to give, waiting for the end to come.
The back of the room had even more water tanks, going down another wall in an L-shape. Most were filled with young men, in boxer briefs, floating inside. They were unconscious, covered in monitors and tubes, breathing through a respirator. Fae essence was being pumped into their system.
“What do you think?” Istvan stepped into my eye line, and it took everything in me not to shudder. I was so distracted that I hadn’t noticed him. He flicked his head over his shoulder. “The new and improved way. Only the privileged and exclusive are selected or can afford it. Our waiting list is already a year long.”
I tried to keep my breath steady, my jaw locked shut, not looking at him.
“Come, Brexley, let me show you. Maybe you will see what I am trying to do. What I am creating here.” He motioned me to step forward as he spoke to the guards. “You are dismissed.”