Blood Lands (Savage Lands #5)(48)

“Whatever I have to do. Just keeping the world safe.”

“Aren’t you the hero.”

I heard him chuckle darkly. Warwick was anything but.

He was no hero. He was a terrifying, deadly legend.

One who fucked like one too.

“And that was without even touching you, Kovacs.”





Chapter 13





It only felt like a moment after I closed my eyes that the guards came tramping in, lights flipping on, my lids bursting open at the intrusion.

Clambering to my feet, I could feel Warwick’s presence bolt up in the cage over. Protective. Wary.

“General is in rare form this morning.” Blondie sneered at me, hitting his baton against the metal bars while Brown Curls swung my cell door open, coming for me with manacles. “You ready, lab rat?”

Snorting, I leaned closer to Blondie through the bars. “And what the fuck do you think you are?” I smirked as Brown Curls cuffed me. “I am the very thing your daddy had to fork over thousands for. And guess what, junior? You still aren’t even close to what I am.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Blondie’s shoulders rose, the bat thwacking the bar at my face.

I laughed while Brown Curls yanked me with him, hustling me out of the cell and down the corridor.

“Kovacs...” A growl nipped at the back of my neck.

My neck craned back to see Warwick, his body pressed up to the bars, appearing as if he were ready to rip through them.

There were no words I could give him, no assurances everything would be okay.

My shadow slipped back to him, and without a word, I went up on my toes, pulling his mouth to mine kissing him deeply. The feel of his anger and fear vibrated through me, coiling around my bones, giving me strength.

But it was the other emotion I felt from him that had me gripping onto him for dear life.

“I heard you last night.” His spirit grazed my body as I walked down the hallway while I also stood in front of him in his cell.

His aqua eyes peered down at mine, his hand brushing my dirty hair out of my face. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to swallow back his emotion.

“Same, Kovacs.”

I didn’t need to ask what he heard. I could see it in his eyes, feel it in his soul.

His version of saying I love you back.

A smile lighted my face as his hand clasped the back of my head, pulling me hard against his mouth. Breathing me in so deeply, he couldn’t possess more of me, but I still wasn’t close enough.

With Warwick, it’s never enough.

“Brexley.” The voice plucked the string between Warwick and me, cutting it off with a snap.

Istvan stood in front of me. His icy blue eyes stared at me, his expression unreadable, his frame tense.

The guards moved me all the way into the lab room to him, my gaze catching Dr. Karl next to a gurney—the one the girl died on yesterday. Today, a man of barely twenty was strapped to it. He looked to be slightly drugged, though I could still see fear in his features.

“No.” I shook my head, my body instantly backpedaling, ramming into the two soldiers, who shoved me forward. “Don’t do this.”

Istvan motioned for the officers to take me to the gurney.

Struggling, I tried to dig deep, to find that thing inside of me, the forging fire building back brick by brick. The magic of a fae queen. It bubbled, but I felt no explosion of power, no electricity or wind striking the air at my command. I had no way of controlling it, like a genie who had enormous power but couldn’t do a thing until someone else rubbed me the wrong or right way.

Dr. Karl sauntered over to me after I was restrained. Wiping down my arm with rubbing alcohol, he slid the needle into my arm, my body instantly going limp, the fight leaving me.

“I think this time will be better, sir.” Dr. Karl spoke to Istvan, his speech pattern quick and nervous. He put another needle in my vein, taping it down and turning to the other victim. “He is much stronger than the last. She was riddled with disease. Clearly too weak to handle it. He is perfectly fine, except for Byssinosis, a Mill Lung disease. I feel positive this will work this time.”

“It. Better.” Istvan’s words were controlled, but I could hear the threat. The demand for a positive outcome or else.

Sweat dripped down Dr. Karl’s forehead, and he swallowed, understanding the same thing.

Curving my head, I allowed myself to look at the form next to me as Dr. Karl hooked him up to the blood bag we’d be sharing.

He had dark eyes and hair and was skinny but all muscle, the kind you got from doing physical labor, day in and out. Young, but already held the burden of a hard life on his face. His head turned to me, his eyes meeting mine; they were filled with a fear—a plea—as if I could help him.

My head jerked, my eyes going to the ceiling, not able to look at him.

Maybe this time it will be fine. What if this does help him? Can I help others?

I clung to that hope, my heart racing through the sedative when Dr. Karl turned on the machine, yanking my blood from my veins.

The knee-jerk reaction to defend, to protect myself, trickled sweat down my spine. Today it hurt more. I could feel every molecule of myself being ripped away this time. The sedative was gone, and my body struggled against the binds, noises huffing from my nose.

“What is wrong with her?” Istvan barked.