“Stop!” A bulb outside of the room cracked as a small gush of wind howled down the corridor. The guards waiting for Boyd outside yelped with fear, yanking his attention away from Killian.
“What the fuck was that?” He swung around at nothing. As quickly as it came, it disappeared, sweat dripping down my temple, my head pounding.
His gaze darted to me, pinning me with suspicion. He had been there and seen what happened in the Games the night when I killed the wild animals—when wind and lightning from nowhere crackled through the arena.
Fear made most lash out in anger. He knew fae magic was blocked down here, so confusion forced his brows into one line, and he tightened his shoulders with ire, stomping closer to me. Boyd had been here long enough to have made the connection. No other human who had taken the pills showed any sign of magic similar to this. They had fae-like strength and seemed to possess stronger shifter qualities, but not magic able to create storms. Storms that could kill.
He leered over me, his eye twitching with rage.
I heard the strike before I felt it. The slap of skin and bone smacking against the walls, my head hitting the ground as pain streaked across my cheek, blooming behind my eye to my ear.
Killian yelled, but his voice was lost as Boyd leaned over me.
“I cannot wait to watch you die tomorrow night. My only regret is I won’t be able to do it myself.” His hand squeezed my already swollen jaw. “I will make sure, Kovacs, that you, the legend, and your fae lord die of long, excruciating deaths. You will hear my laughter and cheers echo in your ears until your final breath.”
He pushed me harder into the ground before standing up, turning around, and walking through the exit. The door shrieked as he slammed it behind him, blackness engulfing the room like a suffocating blanket.
“Brexley?” Killian croaked out.
It took me several swallows, tasting the metallic taste of blood. “I’m okay.” Pushing myself up, my face throbbed, still feeling the echo of his hand. “Are you?”
“Fantastic,” Killian muttered dryly, a small groan as his chain rattled when he moved.
“You are seriously a magnet for trouble.” Tracker scoffed, and I knew he was speaking to me.
“So I’ve been told.” I flinched, sitting fully up, my head falling back against the wall.
Killian chuckled under his breath.
“Like you can talk.” I shot at him. “Or you.” I flicked my chin at Tracker though he couldn’t see me. “What are you in here for?”
“Fight,” he replied quickly. I waited for him to expand, but he didn’t. There was a lull before he spoke again. “Funny, the last time we were all together was in that church, talking about finding some mythical nectar, with your men pointing guns at our heads.”
“The good ol’ days,” Killian replied wryly.
“I’ll bet it was for you, fae.” A streak of unregulated anger swiped out, which surprised me, before I heard him take a deep breath. “I can’t believe you actually found it.” All the anger vanished, a thread of awe in his voice. “I have to admit I didn’t think it was real at first, but Mykel was adamant. Does he know about it? That you found it?”
Cradling my throbbing cheek in my hand, a pang of guilt dipped my head lower.
“No.” My lashes batted together, trying to keep the emotion out of my throat. “I never had the chance... and we were actually headed to Povstat when we were caught.” Where Eliza and Zander were probably gunned down and perished.
“What’s wrong?” The rub of fabric against the wall rustled as Killian moved. “I can hear something is wrong in your voice.”
Staring into the void, I gulped back down the bile in my throat.
“Eliza and Zander.”
“What. About. Them?” Tension and worry escalated with each word.
“They were with us.” I forced my tears back, fisting the fabric of my pants.
“Where are they now, Ms. Kovacs?” Killian turned back to using my last name, his timbre clipped. “Please tell me they got away.”
“I don’t know.” I dug my nails into my pants, rolling my fingers in tighter. “Istvan told me they had been fatally shot, but we haven’t found them yet.”
Killian inhaled sharply. I knew he had grown to care about them, even if one was supposed to be a hostage and one a spy against him. “What about Simon? And Tad?”
“They are back at the cabin—safe.”
He let out his breath.
“Wait. Wait.” Tracker exclaimed with surprise. “You might have a group heading to Povstat right now?”
Gritting my teeth, causing more pain to shoot down my nerves, I blinked up at the ceiling, though I only saw darkness. “I hope...” Or they could be dead, and no one was coming for us.
“Mykel could be heading here right now?” Tracker emphasized the last part.
“Again, I don’t know.” Please, please say they got away. They are alive.
“But it’s possible.” It wasn’t really a question. “Will you give the nectar to Mykel as you said you would?”
“I never said I would give it to him.”
“Because you made a promise to me, Ms. Kovacs,” Killian stated.
“Under duress...”
“Semantics.”
“I’m still not fae, Killian. I am not bound to a promise.”
“You’re not human either, so once again, let me say, stop acting like one,” he replied, his voice going low. “Maybe I don’t need the nectar. I can possess you.”
“Good luck with that,” I huffed but couldn’t deny the heat rushing up my spine from his claim. Killian and I would always have a spark. “But guess what? I fulfilled my obligation. You already have it.”
“What?” Tracker burst out instead of Killian. “He has the nectar?”
“Tad found it after we were taken. Guess where he took it?”
“The cabin,” Killian muttered in relief.
“Yeah, and you also inherited seven necromancers along with the Druid.”
A dry laugh came from Killian. “Of course. I’m not even together with you, and I’m the one invaded by your whole family.”
I snorted out a laugh. “Well, at least they’re another layer of protection. With them and the Druid spells, no one can just walk in and take it.” The moment I uttered the last few words, something clicked in my brain, a piece of the puzzle I didn’t even know I was missing.
Freezing in place, the realization grew, expanding through my gut and up my throat, cutting off my air. Short, harsh breaths shot in and out of my nose, my chest clenching in panic.
“What’s wrong?” Killian’s voice reached me.
“Oh, gods...” My mouth gaped, the idea clicking in with astonishing horror.
“What?” Killian’s shackles clanked.
Suddenly I could feel Warwick and Scorpion both near me, my fear pulling their shadows, my emotions pushing through the goblin magic as if it were paper.
“Kovacs?” Warwick moved to me.
“Brex, what is it?”
Terror jammed my vocals as I peered up at the two men. I couldn’t move as my theory became more and more solid, kicking me in the gut with utter clarity. How did I miss this?
“What, Brexley?” Killian growled, also picking up on my fear.
“They can just walk in.” My throat swelled, making it hard to get out my words.
“Who? Walk in where?” Killian’s pitch was strangled, as if he sensed where this was going.
“I can’t believe I never connected this.” My brain looped and spun with my revelation.
“You better fucking explain what you are talking about now,” Warwick demanded.
“The human guards down here have all taken the pills, giving them fae qualities, right?”
“Yessss,” Tracker replied with suspicion. “So?”
“This entire prison is spelled with Druid magic, so fae can’t use their powers in here. But that doesn’t apply to the human-fae soldiers because they aren’t made from natural magic. Or me. It hurt, but I was still able to do it.” My eyes met Warwick’s, and his widened with understanding, and I whispered. “We pushed through it.”
I heard Killian breathe in sharply, probably putting the dots together.
“I don’t understand. What’s that have to do with anything?” Tracker asked.
“Because...” Killian exhaled heavily. “My property is spelled with Druid magic. Nature’s magic.”
“And?” Tracker sounded annoyed.
“It means...” he trailed off.
“It means those barriers keeping fae out and dissuading humans from going there doesn’t apply to Istvan’s new soldiers.” I bit on my lip, trying to hold back a cry. “They can walk right in.”
Chapter 23
Thick, weedy silence webbed the small room, the information sinking in with a weighty understanding. If Istvan figured this out, we were doomed.
Kalaraja was fae. He would assume what he felt was blocking them all. But if they knew those fae-human soldiers could push through the spell, it would be all over for us. Not even seven necromancers and a Druid would be able to stop the force Istvan would send their way.