Wild Lands (Savage Lands Book 2) Page 31

  Ash shifted on his feet. “Warwick wouldn’t want you to go by yourself. We are in Killian’s territory.”

  The mention of Killian spiked fear and guilt through me. Yet as much as the humans painted him as a monster, he had been kind to me. I had no idea how he’d act if our paths crossed again. Probably not favorably now. He probably regretted ever kissing me.

  The night on the balcony fluttered back in my mind, his words prickling the back of my neck.

  “I cannot see clearly when it comes to you. I cannot explain it, but you make me feel alive. I’m drawn to you.”

  Drawn to you.

  What Zander had said to me.

  What Ash had said…

  “I will stay close. I need some air.” I pulled on the coat, my lungs tightening.

  Ash sighed. “Fine. But don’t go far. There’s a nice woodsy area right behind here. Stay within fifty feet of this house.”

  I nodded, already out the door, the need to run making my muscles twitch. Though I knew no matter where I ran, I could never run from this… or Warwick.

  Chapter 26

  Fog hugged the foliage. Sodden leaves hung with weight, curling the branches closer to the earth. The sky was swathed with gray clouds, but I could tell the sun was already drifting near the horizon, the shadows clinging in dark patches. It was chilly, autumn setting in, the crisp air snapping in my lungs. My shoulders lowered as I took in another deep breath, wrapping my arms around me, tucking deeper into my hood.

  I let my mind shut down, my legs moving deeper down the overgrown trail, loving the feel of fresh air on my skin. My muscles and bones ached, and I was still nowhere near my best, but stretching my legs, moving around, helped ease the anxiety crippling my body.

  My brain looped around and around with what I had learned just in the last day, not even taking in finding my uncle alive and him confessing what my father had suspected. All those trips he went on, leaving me, were to find any leads on what I was.

  If I was fae, he could have found that quickly, but I wasn’t.

  But I wasn’t human either.

  Somewhere between.

  Like life and death.

  Love and hate.

  Did my father find out anything? Andris said he got more secretive, saying it was for their safety. Did he find answers then?

  Bringing back a cat from the dead seemed impossible, but what about the deep understanding that I went back to the night of the Fae War and brought Warwick and Scorpion back to life?

  Neither of them was a shell of himself. They were full of vivacity, vibrating with danger, violence, and death.

  “Danger and violence,” Lynx’s words came back to me. “They follow you.”

  She was right. They really did. And I didn’t think it was a coincidence anymore. I needed to figure out who I really was… what I was.

  Lost in my mind, my feet absently moving as my mind whirled with questions, I wasn’t paying attention to anything but my turbulent thoughts.

  I went through every detail of what the book showed me. What was happening when I was with Warwick, down to the shrill of the baby crying, breaking through the thick haze of magic like a sword.

  Lost in my thoughts, it took me longer than it should have to feel the prickles down my spine, alarm skating across my chest, realizing I was much farther from Ash’s than I had planned on being.

  I stopped, wisps of my breath billowing in the deep shadows. My heart thumped in my chest, my skin bristling, recognizing something was off. Soldiers always trusted their intuition. I tilted my head, straining my ears, listening to every sound.

  I knew wild animals had taken over park areas, moving back into the territories humans no longer used as recreation. Life here was not made for picnics or playing games.

  What I sensed was more deadly than the kinds of animals that probably lived around here. There were no noises or movement, but the warning tapped loudly at my instincts. My heart thumped in my ears, adrenaline filling my veins.

  Move, Brex!

  Slowly, I circled around, facing the direction I’d come from, the tiny cabin nowhere in view. I had gone at least a mile or so out. Ash was going to kill me.

  Icy fear scraped up my neck as I moved quickly down the path, steady and quiet.

  A shrill squawk came from over the tops of the trees, making me jump.

  A hawk circled overhead.

  Terror dried out my mouth, my heart hammering against my ribs.

  Nyx.

  Brex, the world is full of wild animals and birds. There are wild hawks here too. It doesn’t mean it’s her.

  But my feet picked up their pace, the chilly feeling of something behind me clawed at my back like fingernails scraping at bone.

  Another squawk filled the sky, deep terror burning in my ears as I took off running. I could feel my muscles cramping, but I pushed them faster, ignoring the stiffness and pain.

  At the sound of rustling leaves and snapping branches, I turned to look. Dark hooded figures burst through the foliage from all angles, moving for me.

  Fuuucck!

  My intuition had sensed what I could not see or hear.

  Danger.

  It followed me.

  Killian had found me. Though something about this sneak attack didn’t strike me as his style. He would have just burst through Ash’s door and taken me. Why hide in the forest in hopes I would come out?

  Not the time to contemplate. I darted down the path, hearing boots pounding in the dirt, getting closer.

  I could see the smoke from Ash’s chimney far in the distance.

  I screamed his name, hoping I was close enough he could hear me.

  “Shut up!” A hand grabbed the back of my jacket, hauling me back. A cry broke from my lips as I whirled around, my fist cracking into a person’s face. The man grunted, blood bursting from his nose as he stumbled back. Another figure grabbed for me. I twisted and kicked, my boot landing in their groin, the hooded figure falling to the ground, hissing swear words in my direction. Punching and kicking, I knocked another coming at me, trying to ignore the multiple shrouded figures moving in on me, my strength already dipping, pain already tearing through my muscles.

  Grunting, I punched the figure to my right as hands from behind grabbed my shoulders, yanking hard. I slammed onto the rocky ground, agony tearing up my spine. I tried to flip over and climb back to my feet, get out of the defenseless position, when a foot slammed into my gut, right where I had been shot. A scream tore up my throat as I fell back flat. A gun cocked and pointed at my face, and a boot pushed down on my chest. I could tell it was a girl, her dark blonde braids falling out of her hood, showing part of her unfamiliar face.

  If she was Killian’s, I had never seen her before.

  “Don’t move,” she ordered. More than a dozen hooded figures moved in around me, my body motionless with terror, understanding I had no chance.

  Was this how it ended? After all I had been through?

  A large hooded figure pushed through the group, blood still dripping from his nose. His light brown eyes narrowed on me, his face and voice younger than I was expecting. “He warned us you might be feisty.”

  A squawk sounded overhead, circling the trees. Terror drowned my lungs at the idea that Nyx was near me. I had a feeling she would even go against Killian’s rules and kill me before I even got to the palace.

  My mouth filled with saliva. “Fuck you and fuck Killian.”

  The man chuckled softly, kneeling next to me, some kind of cloth in his hand, a slight sweet smell teasing my nose.

  No. Fuck. No! Chloroform.

  I tried to wiggle away, but the girl’s heel dug into my ribs more. None of these people felt familiar to me from the palace. None wore the lord’s insignia.

  “Who are you?” My pulse jackhammered against my neck, my eyes darting around, taking in their worn cloaks and dirty faces, a realization hitting me.

  These were not Killian’s men.

  “You’ll find out soon enoug
h.” The man smirked, covering my mouth and nose with the rag.

  Terror soared through me as I sucked in the sweet, odd taste of chemicals.

  Fright shredded through all layers and walls.

  Suddenly I stood in a small rundown small room with only an old sofa, table, and chair. A beautiful dark-haired woman peered up at Warwick like he was her world, her arms around him, as he held a young boy of maybe six in his arms, the boy hugging him like he never wanted to let go.

  Like a son would a father…

  I blinked, taking in the intimate scene, hurt slashing over my soul. He had a family… a wife? Or a lover and son. They were who he left me for? Why he didn’t want this link between us… he was with someone else.

  Fear pushed everything away as I felt myself slip toward unconsciousness, the effects of the chloroform wrapping around my legs, trying to drag me down into darkness. I only had seconds left.

  “Warwick!” I screamed.

  He whipped around, his eyes going wide, his shoulders expanding in alarm at the sight of me. “Kovacs?” He set down the boy, moving to me, searching the scene behind me. “What’s happening?”

  My mouth would no longer move, the darkness dragging me down.

  “Kovacs!”

  I could no longer fight it. Slipping away, I clawed and scraped to stay with him, but it swallowed me, pulling me away from consciousness.

  “Brexley!” His voice howled in my head as the chemical claimed me.

  The sound of my name on his lips wrapped around me like a blanket.

  Then nothing.

  Nausea rolled through me, vomit purging up my throat before I even totally woke, my bones trembling with the aftereffects of the chemical. My head pounded as I tried to open my eyes, but only obscurity surrounded me. A cloth wrapped around my eyes, keeping me in the dark.

  Grunting, I tried to move, my arms pinned behind my back.

  “Go slow. Your body needs time to recover.” A deep voice jolted me. My head automatically angled toward the sound, my senses groggy.

  I felt so sick I wanted to vomit again. My instinct drove me to try and sit up, not be so defenseless. Hard to do when your hands were tethered.

  “I apologize for the restraints, but seeing what you did to a few of my men, we couldn’t be too careful.” Something about his voice, the way he spoke, was oddly familiar to me.

  “Who are you?” My throat croaked over the question.

  “Well, that’s a complicated question. I go by many different titles.” Shoes clipped over stone, his voice growing closer, and I sensed there were other figures in the room. “Most here call me Kapitan.”

  The name touched something in the back of my mind, but I was too foggy to place it, my mind still trying to catch up with itself.

  “You have stirred up a lot of trouble, haven’t you? So many want to claim you.”

  “You adding yourself to the list?” I snipped.

  “Not the way you suggest, my dear.” The man scoffed, a laugh bubbling up his throat. The sound struck a chord deep in my gut. “That would be highly inappropriate.”

  “Cut the bullshit. What do you want? Why kidnap me?” My headache shoved all my patience out the window.

  I heard a noise, then heavy footsteps moved toward me. Hands grabbed my arms, hauling me to my feet, undoing my arms, blood flooded back into my limbs, the pins and needles keeping them limp at my sides.

  “Go ahead.” The man ordered someone in the room. I could tell a smaller figure moved in front of me. Then fingers wrapped around my blindfold and ripped it off my head.

  Light made me flinch back. I blinked desperately until I could finally see clearly the figure in front of me.

  My breath hitched in my throat, my mouth parting, as I jerked back.

  Oh. My. Gods.

  The woman twirled her blue hair around her finger, a coy smile on her lips.

  “Hey, little lamb.”

  “K-Kek?” I whispered, my muddled mind not able to understand. “How—why? Wha-what is going on?”

  “Missed you too.” She winked playfully at me, looking over her shoulder as a man stepped around her.

  “Sorry for the extra precautions. Couldn’t have you waking up and seeing the location of our hideout.”

  A guttural cry heaved from my soul, my body stumbling back into the figure behind me.

  My heart lurched.

  The man who stood there looked so similar to my father it was like seeing a ghost. Grief splintered across my chest, opening the hole in my heart.

  He was tall and broad-shouldered with short black hair, a beard, and soft brown eyes. He was slightly thinner than my father and his face more oval, but so much of him looked the same.

  “Right.” The man dipped his head. “I should have foreseen your reaction. I apologize for not giving you more warning.”

  “H-h-how?” I squeaked, tears building in my eyes. Now I understood why his voice seemed so familiar. It sounded the same as my dad’s.

  “Brexley.” The sound of my name felt like I had stepped back in time, hearing my father call my name. After all the times I wished I could hear his voice again, I wasn’t prepared for how much it would hurt.

  He took a step toward me, stopping when I tried to move away.

  “I-I don’t understand.”

  “Brexley, I’m your uncle. Your father Benet’s younger brother, Mykel.”

  “What?” My uncle?

  “But… He-he’s a criminal hiding in Prague.” I had never met him because he had run off to Prague, hiding from the law.

  “True on both accounts.” He rubbed his beard, nodding. He seemed aloof, lacking the kindness my father had, but the physical similarities were startling. There was no way to deny their relation.

  “What some think of as criminal activity, others call a revolution.” He motioned to the room full of people, all wearing dark clothes: young, old, male, female, fae, human. My gaze landed back on Kek, my eyes pleading for answers. What the hell was she doing here?

  “Revolution?” I swallowed.

  “Welcome to the Povstat Militia.” Mykel held his arms out. The name felt like a punch to my gut. Povstat was the huge insurgence in Prague, bordering on fanatical, violent… Terrorists, as Istvan described them.

  Kapitan, their known leader.

  “Holy shit,” I muttered. My blood uncle was the leader of Povstat, while my pseudo uncle was running Sarkis’s Army.

  “There is a revolution coming, Brexley.” He clasped his hands, looking directly at me. “And you are going to help lead us straight into it.”

  I stared at him as my world tipped over once again.

  Ó, hogy baszd meg egy talicska apró majom,” I muttered under my breath, stealing Birdie’s phrase.

  Oh, may a wheelbarrow of small monkeys fuck it.

  To be continued…

  Dead Lands, Book 3

  About the Author

  Stacey Marie Brown is a lover of hot fictional bad boys and sarcastic heroines who kick butt. She also enjoys books, travel, TV shows, hiking, writing, design, and archery. Stacey swears she is part gypsy, being lucky enough to live and travel all over the world.

  She grew up in Northern California, where she ran around on her family’s farm, raising animals, riding horses, playing flashlight tag, and turning hay bales into cool forts.

  When she’s not writing, she’s out hiking, spending time with friends, and traveling. She also volunteers helping animals and is eco-friendly. She feels all animals, people, and the environment should be treated kindly.

  To learn more about Stacey or her books, visit her at:

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  Acknowledgements

  I hope you guys have fallen in love with this world as much as I have. It’s always hard starting a new series, even though its set in the same world. I thank you for giving Savage Lands a chance and loving it so much you have been hounding me for Wild Lands release! Best thing an author can hear! The others I’d like to thank for getting this book out:

  Kiki & Colleen at Next Step P.R. - Thank you for all your hard work! I love you ladies so much.

  Jordan Rosenfeld at Write Livelihood - Every book is better because of you. I have your voice constantly in my head as I write.

  Mo at Siren’s Call Author Services – You have been my savior! Thank you!

  Hollie “the editor”- Always wonderful, supportive, and a dream to work with.

  Jay Aheer- So much beauty. I am in love with your work!

  Judi Fennell at www.formatting4U.com- Always fast and always spot on!

  To all the readers who have supported me: My gratitude is for all you do and how much you help indie authors out of the pure love of reading.

  To all the indie/hybrid authors out there who inspire, challenge, support, and push me to be better: I love you!

  And to anyone who has picked up an indie book and given an unknown author a chance.

  THANK YOU!