Wild Lands (Savage Lands Book 2) Page 14

  Terror heaved my lungs.

  Istvan knew.

  Knew from day one I had straight out lied to him while I sat in the chair on the other side of this desk.

  And gave nothing away.

  Why had he not confronted me? He let me carry on in this house like everything was normal. What was his plan?

  Staring down at the table, bile burned up my esophagus. The doctor called me “anomalous,” and the pictures proved I lied.

  Not just lied, but betrayed and deceived him, my people, and my soldier oath.

  Sedition in the eyes of HDF.

  Punishable by death.

  Istvan would never let my disloyalty go—unless he was planning to use it against me somehow.

  Voices coming from down the hall jolted me. Fear and adrenaline chugged through my bloodstream, my heart thudding, palms sweating. My gaze darted desperately down to the evidence of my crimes in front of me. Shuffling all pictures and papers together, I started to shove them back into the safe. But one of them slipped from my grasp and onto the floor. The file with some kind of formula and notes spread out over the rug.

  Fuck!

  I thrust the other two inside, about to pick up the fallen file.

  Footsteps stopped at the door, voices muttering, speeding up my pulse.

  Baszd meg!

  Forgetting it, I pressed the safe closed, slipping back the false front. The door handle rattled. Panic drove me to sweep up the folder and dart to the curtain I used to hide behind as a young girl. Bunching up my huge skirt to my chest, I tried to flatten myself into the wall, the documents pressing into my skin.

  “Come in.” Istvan’s voice rang through the room, my heart thumping as I noticed the curtain still swaying from my movement. Gritting my teeth, I hoped he either wouldn’t notice or think he caused it by stepping in. “Have a seat.”

  “I’d rather not.” Flat and low, the other man’s voice tapped at the back of my head. I knew it, but I wasn’t sure from where. “I’d prefer to get straight to business.”

  “Yes, very well,” Istvan replied as he moved behind his desk. “Have you found anything more?”

  “I have been watching her, trying to find any kind of communication between them, but so far, I have found nothing.” The man sounded irritated by this discovery. “Does not mean she won’t. She could be waiting until things calm down.”

  “Yes, she’s smart. She wouldn’t do anything foolish.” Istvan sighed, sounding tired. “I raised her to be clever; now it’s coming back to bite me.”

  I realized they were talking about me. Istvan had someone tracking me, watching my every move.

  “Her betrayal has cut deep. I dedicated so much time to her education, hoping she wouldn’t turn out like him… but I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” Istvan huffed.

  Like him? Did he mean my dad? My father had been his best friend. His faithful general, taken from my side months at a time to serve him, lead his armies, and then eventually taken from my life.

  “How would you want me to proceed, sir?”

  Istvan inhaled thoughtfully, as if contemplating his options. “My son will lose all focus if anything happens to her right now. He has become weak when it comes to her. Foolish. Plus, I want to watch how this will play out, see if she’ll reach out to her fae lover. Otherwise, she is no longer of use to me. She may be stunning, but now with the rumors swirling around about her time in Halálház, no influential noble wants her near their family. My only hope is Prime Minister Leon in Prague, but if he rejects my offer for her, she is useless.” Istvan went quiet, the room filling with heavy silence. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure someone would hear it.

  “Sir?”

  “What I want, Kalaraja…” His name slithered so deeply down into my gut I had to force myself not to gasp aloud or drop to my knees in terror.

  Kalaraja. His name meant the Lord of Death.

  The name they called him because of his occupation.

  He was General Markos’ private spy and assassin. I had met him a handful of times in Istvan’s office over the years. His eyes were dark and flat. Soulless. Scarred face, bald, and blank of life, he could easily blend into the darkness.

  Whenever he had walked by me, chills ran down my body. He was one of the only men I had been truly afraid of. I’d heard stories of his victims—the art and dedication he had, not in merely murdering someone, but torturing them. It was his only passion.

  “I’d like—”

  “Shh,” Kalaraja snipped out.

  “What—”

  Whatever the assassin did, Istvan shut up.

  My lids squeezed together for a moment, petrified. Not a muscle moved as my lungs strained to hold in the last bits of air. And possibly my final moments of life.

  Seconds ticked by like hours, dread burning through me. Just a flick of the curtain and I would be exposed.

  Tick. Tick. Tick.

  My heartbeat struck with the clock.

  A woman’s squealed laugh from outside reached our ears, followed by a man’s murmuring.

  “It’s only drunk guests outside,” Istvan barked. “Calm down, Kalaraja. You are about to attack my plant in the corner.” The swish of fabric told me Istvan was moving. The drawer to his desk opened. “I want you to continue to watch her. Report anything you see. I mean everything. Normal or… abnormal.”

  “What do you mean abnormal, sir?”

  “Qualities you might find odd or different in a human.”

  A fist drove through my chest, barreling down into my gut, my heart squeezing in pain and fear.

  In one sentence, with a shift in his tone, I realized I was no longer the daughter he once considered me.

  I was an enemy.

  In a world of suspicion, distrust, and hatred, Istvan was always looking for betrayal, but I did not expect how fast he would turn on me.

  “And if nothing happens, sir?” Kalaraja replied blankly. “Can I just force her to talk?”

  “She may appear like a feeble woman, but I trained her well. She’s tougher than most male soldiers. She will not break.”

  “You underestimate me, sir.”

  I heard the sound of something hit the surface of the desk. “Here. Your payment for your services so far. When the time comes, there will be a bonus if you make it look as if the fae were the ones to kill her. That will really provoke Caden.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now, I must return to my son’s engagement,” Istvan said. “Her death will burn his hate for the fae even more, and then he will help me lead the new wave of humans to destroy the fae and take back our land. Our world. I know him. Once he learns of her death, he will do it without question. It’s amazing how powerful a broken heart can be.”

  Feet moved to the door, followed by the swish of it opening, footsteps receding, then the door clicking shut.

  Shock swelled in my lungs, clogging my throat with emotion, fear, rage, grief, and heartbreak.

  A man I thought of as family had so easily ordered my torture and death, turning against me without hesitation. For one moment, I wanted to curl on the ground and let the little girl, who grew up under his care, sob in grief feeling broken and terrified.

  Run, my brain screamed at me. You are no longer safe. Go!

  Instinct kicked me forward, flattening the folder to my chest. I peered around the curtain, searching for a threat before slipping out and heading for the exit. I peered back at his safe, the false front a little askew, then down at my item in my hands. A tiny part of me still wanted to be obedient to Istvan, prove I was the soldier and girl he raised so he would be proud of me.

  “Once he learns of her death, he will do it without question. It’s amazing how powerful a broken heart can be.”

  Terror twisted in my soul at his cruelty. Tucking the folder under my gown and wrapping it in the layers of fabric, I slinked out, knowing what I had to do.

  And I could never come back from it.

  Chapter 13

/>   Music, laughter, and voices hummed from the great hall. Happiness and cheer were everywhere, the guests oblivious to the events playing out under this roof, or even outside these walls. Their ignorance and entitlement only made me walk faster and with greater determination.

  With each measured step, I tried to keep my expression blank of emotion, hoping I could slink away down the hall and grab a few things from my room before slipping out into the night.

  “Brexley.” Istvan’s voice came from behind me. Ice frosted my spine, pulling me to a stop, my lungs cinching, my lids crushing together. Deep fear coated my tongue, and I fought back a gasp blooming in my throat. “I have been looking for you.”

  I lifted my lashes. Instead of seeing the opulent décor of HDF, a dark, seedy bedroom was before me. The smells of sex and sweat drenched the stale chamber. Lit by a dim light from the nightstand, a lone figure sat on the bed, his face lined with frustration, making me strangely want to reach out and brush it away.

  Aqua eyes jerked to me. Warwick’s scrutiny rolled over me, then beyond as if he could see what was going behind me. Whatever he saw in my face had him bounding off the bed. “Kovacs?”

  My mouth parted, my eyes locking with his.

  “Brexley?” Istvan’s cool voice snapped me back to HDF, abruptly cutting the link to Warwick. “Where have you been?”

  Trying to keep my breath even, I twisted to face my guardian.

  “I needed some fresh air.” I kept my chin up, my eyes directly on him.

  His gaze slid from the direction I had come and back to me. His expression did not falter; nothing about him altered. But everything had changed. I could feel the tension of the game I had no idea we were playing. Istvan would never come out and ask me. He would let me hang myself with my lies. The Eastern Bloc was built on power-hungry dictators playing a game of spies like little boys. You couldn’t trust anyone, and everyone was a suspect.

  All I could do was continue the game. Engage as if everything was the same.

  “Rebeka is wondering where you are. Reporters want to take a family picture.”

  He had set down his chess piece, and now it was my move.

  “Let me go freshen up, and I will be right in.” I motioned to my face.

  “You do look flushed, my dear.” He tipped his head, his eyes burrowing into me.

  “It’s warm in there.”

  “Except you were outside getting fresh air…” He lifted a silvering eyebrow, taking one step closer to me.

  “Too much champagne,” I said quickly. Keep calm. Keep calm.

  The rope was looped around my neck, and I knew if I kept getting defensive, it would strangle me.

  Staying silent, we watched each other. The sound of the orchestra music in the main ballroom cheerfully buzzed from the party. It contrasted with the tension mounting between us.

  “Well, go ahead, my dear.” He forced his lips into a smile. “The powder room is right there. I’ll wait for you.”

  “Please, return to your guests. I’ll only be a minute. I’m sure you have so many people to greet.” I smiled back, trying to pretend everything was normal.

  “Rebeka would be angry if I returned without you.” He flicked his head to the door close to me. “Now go on.”

  I had no other option. If I resisted, he would have no doubt something was wrong. Istvan wanted to keep me close, but I hoped he didn’t realize how aware I was of his plan for me. What I had overheard.

  If he did… game over.

  Pulling my lips into a soft smile, I dipped my head. “I’ll be quick.” I casually headed for the water closet behind me, my heart choking my throat.

  Shutting the door, the panic bubbled up, a small whimper escaping my throat. The feel of the folder against my hip pumped the blood in my veins faster.

  My entire world was a house of cards, ready to come tumbling down.

  Sucking in gulps of air, I knew the only course I could take was to go along with him, smile for the cameras, pretend to be the ward he shaped and molded.

  Fixing my already perfectly styled hair, I tried to calm the fear trembling my limbs and took a deep breath. I pried open the door, schooling my features into serenity, something I’d been doing all my life.

  Istvan’s attention lasered on me as I stepped out, his lips pursing as if he knew he’d won, giving me no out—unless I was ready to end this pretense and lay down my cards. Stop this game of cat and mouse, where both of us knew I was lying. He didn’t yet know that I knew he knew.

  He curved his arm, an invitation for me to take it and let him lead me in. Plastering a happy smile on my face, I reached for his arm.

  My tall heels caught on the edge of the rug, and I stumbled.

  It was a second.

  A breath.

  A blink in time.

  The folder slipped from the knotted layers next to my thigh, the fabric abandoning its hold, as if my dress itself was a conspirator against me.

  My stomach plunged through the floor, everything speeding up and slowing down.

  The file hit the floor, spreading out the documents across the rich, ornate rug. Dr. Rapava’s notes were in full view, the half-concocted formula on top. Istvan’s eyes dropped to the pages. His brows furrowed, taking in the papers spread on the ground before his attention snapped up to mine.

  His cold blue eyes burned with fury, flaming with another emotion. Not hurt or betrayal. It was confirmation. I had proven myself the traitorous turncoat he decided I was. There would be no explanations or attempts to plead my side. I wouldn’t be able to deny I stole them from his vault. No second chances. He didn’t work that way.

  Our eyes met. Oxygen caught in my throat. A drop of time suspended as we both waited for the other one to act. With a flash in his eyes, a tug of his lip, I shifted from daughter to enemy.

  “You foolish girl. I gave you everything.” Venom hissed from his mouth. “Guards!” Istvan’s voice pierced the air. My survival instincts slammed into me. I bent over, grabbing the top documents, leaving those out of my reach, and flipped around. I had no idea what I was doing; there was no escaping, no getting out of here. I knew where each guard was stationed, the amount covering HPF inside and out, their skill level. They were the best of the best.

  It was impossible, but I couldn’t fight the feeling in my gut to run, to get outside the walls.

  Tucking the pieces of paper into the fabric over my breast, I scrambled toward the stairs. Istvan’s shout collided into me as guards came from every direction. The handful of party guests wandering around cried out in disbelief, flooding out from the ballroom.

  “Don’t let her escape. Traitor!” Istvan no longer kept up his pretense. The walls had been stripped down, showing the bones in our closets.

  “Stop!” a guard yelled, his hands grabbing my arm painfully.

  The Games at Halálház taught me to look at everything as a possible weapon, even when it seemed like there was nothing.

  Hopping out of my heels, I picked one up, swinging it around with all my might. The sharp high heel Rebeka forced me to wear sank into his cheek.

  There were sounds of breaking bones, flesh, and veins. A guttural cry howled through the room, and he dropped his grip on me. Guilt and grief warred in my chest. I knew him. I knew all of them, at least by face, but my desperate need to escape rose in me like a cornered beast. My life took precedence over theirs.

  The monster of Halálház, who murdered with her own hands, tearing into flesh, who learned to kill or be killed, burst through my conscience, taking over.

  Another guard pulled out his rifle, pointing at me.

  “No! Don’t kill her. She’s sick and confused,” Istvan ordered. “I want her alive.”

  Alive so he could torture information from me.

  Slamming through the growing throng of guests pouring out to see what was going on, I pushed through to the edge of the stairs. A dozen guards ran up for me like a human wall, blocking my escape. Terror constricted my lungs.

 
; Panic could lock you in place, or it could turn you feral and pitiless.

  With a grunt, I leaped over the railing, dropping to the floor at least one story down with a hard thud. My bones creaked and jolted at the impact, but adrenaline kept pain far in the distance as it poured through my veins.

  Commotion pounded in my ears, all of it drumming together like white noise. Old friends, both men and women, became enemies as more leaped for me.

  Hiking up my puffy dress, I kicked out at one, twisting myself around and slamming my fist into another, using my elbow to slam into the third’s nose, smashing it in pieces. Trying to slip away, a woman guard seized the hem of my dress, yanking me back. This dress was the epitome of what not to wear in a fight.

  The sound of fabric ripping tore through the air, the delicate silk ripping away, making the soldier stumble. I dove for her stomach, plowing her into the few guards behind her, driving them to the ground.

  A fist slammed into my jaw, stealing my breath, and I staggered to the side.

  I had no weapon, and more and more soldiers were coming for me, but I knew if I stopped now, my life was over. I was only alive now because Istvan ordered them not to kill me.

  Yet.

  With a deep growl and my teeth bared, I punched, kicked, and fought everybody who neared me, inching myself closer and closer toward the door. Vibrations of pain volleyed through my bones.

  “Kovacs!” A familiar timbre hollered through the noise, halting everyone, including me. “Stop!”

  Following the voice, I spotted the man I had idolized for years, craving his teachings like a drug. My mentor, Bakos, kept his eyes locked on me, heading calmly for me. “Ease back, soldier.” He kept his shoulders back, his body tight, in defensive mode, but I saw a sadness in his eyes, a heartbreaking confusion.

  He and I had a special bond. I had spent so much time trailing after him, asking for extra lessons, always eager to learn more, to advance faster. Fervent to be the best. He loved my tenacious need to work harder and absorb everything.