“One less present I’d have to buy.”
“Buy? You’d have to make me something since you’d be in jail.” I nudged his arm. Caden was always serious, making it my mission to get him to laugh. Relax a little. Have some fun. “So, what would you make me during those long, lonely hours in prison?”
“I wouldn’t. You’d be dead.” His wet boots slapped against the pavement.
“Not the point.”
“Totally the point. That’s why I’d be in jail.”
“I survived.” My arm brushed up against him, causing the butterflies in my stomach to take flight.
“You would. Just to annoy me, huh?” A slight smile quirked up his mouth, and he elbowed me back.
“Now, what would you make for me? Sculpture made from locks of your chest hair?”
“Gross.”
“But I’d love it. It came from your heart. And chest.”
He shook his head, chuckling. “You are weird.”
“It’s why you love me.”
His steps faltered, his eyes finding mine for a moment, a pause in the air. Nerves fluttered in my stomach, hope vaulting up my throat. Caden and I had danced around each other since I turned fifteen, the platonic relationship shifting with our awareness of the opposite sex. As we’d grown, we both realized at the same time that our bodies had changed and were far more intriguing now.
Many girls at the academy longed for him. He was tall, gorgeous, fit from years of training, with deep brown eyes, a slight scruff, silky brown hair, and lips you couldn’t help but stare at.
Girls always questioned me about us, asking if we were together and cooing about how hot he was. It wasn’t until Lilla, a fellow trainee, tried to stake a claim on him that I realized I didn’t want any other girl to touch him. Too scared to lose our friendship, I stayed quiet, hoping he’d give me a sign he felt the same.
He stared at me a lot. Teased and touched me but never enough for me to grasp if it was just friendly or there was more. His compliments were very guarded and general.
I knew I was different from most girls around here. My Russian and Irish roots gave me pale skin, but extremely dark and sharp features. “Unique” and “stunning” were words I heard the most, along with “intimidating.” I had a lot of male attention and interest, but most guys stayed away, like an invisible line had been drawn around me. Either they were scared of me or didn’t want to cross the most formidable cadet at the school. Caden Markos was the son of the highest-ranking general at HDF, Istvan Markos, the leader of the humans.
Now Caden’s attention drifted down my body and back up. I didn’t move, afraid even a twitch would stop him from saying what I wanted to hear for so long. “Brex,” he uttered, his eyes dipping down to my mouth, close enough I could feel his heat colliding with my damp clothes.
I bit my bottom lip, my lungs hitching. His gaze stayed on my mouth, the feel of his breath tickling warmly over my skin. The need to push up on my toes and take what I had craved for so long throbbed through me. He watched me for another beat before he jerked his head, taking a step back.
“The guards change in two minutes. We better hurry.” He nodded toward the wall barricading the old parliament building and surrounding area, resembling a fortress. Stone loomed tall and thick around the military human section, securing the reign of man on this side of the river.
To the fae, our walled city was probably mere decoration, a barrier to keep out the very people we were supposed to be guarding, and one of the places the rich bought their way into. The military and the wealthy were condensed into this walled section of Pest, where the streets were spotless and laws still applied.
Guarded at all times, I had learned where I could get in and out without notice. I knew Caden was torn between the two parts of himself: the soldier who wanted to reveal weakness in their human defense so he could be the hero in his father’s eyes, and the boy who used to love to pretend to escape beyond the wall with me when we were young. The more Caden advanced through the ranks, the more that boy disappeared. He used rules and laws as excuses more and more.
“Yeah.” I nodded, my lungs deflating with disappointment. I could take any guy down in a fight, which was one of the reasons many found me intimidating, but Caden left me so twisted up and confused I wanted to cry.
“I meant it, Brex. This is the last time,” he shot back at me, anger tingeing his words. “It’s far too dangerous, not to mention illegal. I’ll be graduating from the academy soon, and you are not far behind. We need to be soldiers, not criminals.”
“We’re stealing from the fae. Thought you put that in the ‘saving humans’ category.”
“There are other ways. Legal ways.”
I snorted, not believing his wishful idealism of truth and justice. I was much more pessimistic.
For nineteen years, all my life, this country had been in turmoil and constant war. I never knew the old world. I only knew a world of walls, death, and fear.
The fae ruled the west side of the river, where they set themselves up in the castle, taking all the land on the Buda side. Humans ruled a speck of territory on the northeast side. Less than half of a district. As if a scar slashed through the land, most of the Pest side hemorrhaged with people, disease, murder, starvation, prostitution, drugs, poverty, and half-breeds. It was called “the Wild West of the East.”
The Savage Lands.
“Brex, come on.” Caden’s voice brought me back to the present. He turned for the hidden gate near a small park, which had turned into a cemetery after the last “confrontation” with the fae almost five years ago.
My boots sloshed as I ran across the road to the ancient iron gate hidden behind overgrown bushes and weeds. It was the least guarded place along the wall, the gate not even detectible from either side. I found it one afternoon years ago when Caden and I were playing hide-and-seek.
Slithering through the bars, I unlatched the rickety gate. It opened just enough for Caden to shove his body through. Barely. One more gym session and he wouldn’t fit.
The fog clung low to the vegetation as we weaved through the cemetery, the stars bright in the night sky. Caden cut through another fence, popping us out onto the street. A dull yellow light glowed from a streetlight down the boulevard, shadowing the crumbling pavement and chipped paint. Even within the walls of wealthy Lipótváros, which was now called Leopold, the English version, if you looked hard enough, you could see the effects of the dying city bleeding in. The plaster trying to cover up holes in buildings, shoddy paint trying to refresh the facades, the potholes growing with wear and tear. Only a dozen lamps around the walled city were lit at night, the council deciding the money used there could be better spent on more weapons or igniting every inch of HDF in a sea of glorious light, to show the enemy our hold was strong.
Growing up, my dad told me tales of what Budapest was like before the wall fell. After it was relieved of communism control, the country became prosperous with tourism, museums, theater, and art.
“Kicsim, you could freely walk the streets without fear.” Father tucked my stuffed dog, Sarkis, in next to me, a gift from my dad’s best friend, Uncle Andris. Andris told me it was a shepherd to watch over and keep me safe when they were gone. Which was often. I knew he wasn’t my real uncle, but it didn’t matter to me. He was my father’s right-hand man in battle. Close as brothers. They said that made us more than family.
“No walls, no laws saying you couldn’t walk around. You could go wherever you wanted.” Still in his uniform, his day far from over, Dad always took time to tuck me into bed, telling me stories. I always wanted to hear more, to picture this fairy-tale place he spoke of. “Then you could go to the Buda side and stroll the castle grounds. Hang out in cafes, bars, restaurants, and party until dawn if you wanted to. Families went on picnics and to markets without the need to carry a weapon. It was glorious. Can you imagine?”
“No.” I wiggled my head against my pillow, tucking Sarkis into my chest. “But I want to go on
a picnic with you, Daddy. And you don’t have to work ever again.”
“Oh, Edesem.” Grief cut across his face. “I want that too. Let’s hope someday. Someday you will know a life without war and hate, but one with freedom and acceptance. Where both sides can work in harmony. I’m trying to do this. It’s why I work so much, so you have a chance at that. Where you can live without threat.”
It sounded like paradise. Something my mind couldn’t even fathom. None of it was left. Now culture, language, and traditions were mostly lost, replaced by fae customs and the new wave of Westerners who thought this would be utopia without a ruling monarchy, pushing their ideals and culture on this eastern part of the country, blending and changing it into a confused hodgepodge of cultures.
Fae had been living among us since the beginning of time. Once leaders of Earth, they had to go into hiding for centuries, living in a realm called the Otherworld until a bitter old fae queen changed that, shredding the veil between the worlds, meshing them together. As children, we were taught Queen Aneira was a pitiless queen of the Otherworld, no longer wanting the fae scurrying around beneath the humans. Hiding. She waged a war that dissolved the barrier between the realms. Almost twenty years ago, the day of my birth, the wall between the fae world and Earth fell. History books told us the good guys won. And maybe to the Unified Nations, they did. But from Hungary east to Ukraine, we had split off from the rule of a Druid queen and an Unseelie king, becoming our own leaders.
The Hungarian fae nobles at the time thought being independent would be in the best interest of the people.
They were wrong.
When HDF came into view, my lips parted with awe. Basking in light, the gothic towers shot up dramatically like they were trying to skewer the stars in the sky, both beautiful and threatening. Growing up here didn’t anesthetize me to the effects this building had on me.
Dozens of guards patrolled the palace, another tier of defense more for keeping out the “savages” than protecting us from fae.
Caden and I went around the side to a private entrance with fewer sentinels. A guard stood by the door, nodding at us. They might frown at us being out here this time of night, but since we were safe inside Leopold city, they couldn’t do anything. And no one would ever tattle on Caden. No one would utter a word against the “prince” of Leopold.
“Sergeant.” Caden nodded to the man as he opened the door for us.
“Out late, sir,” the man responded, his gaze assessing our wet clothes and hair.
Caden put a hand on my back, rushing me through the entrance. My squeaky boots quieted when they hit the long, deep red rugs stretched down the huge hallway. The place had the ugly name of HDF, but it was a palace. Ornamental arched ceilings were painted with beautiful designs and frescos. Staircases showcased ornate detail and golden lampposts. Sculptures, paintings, and tapestries had been done by world-renowned artists, long gone from this world. One of the most famous rooms was a hexadecagon, the sixteen-sided central hall. Most of the building was decorated in gold-leaf paint, marble, and rich fabrics. The decadence of this place was beyond belief, especially compared to the poverty I heard about on the other side of the wall.
The smallest wing held private living quarters for those high enough in ranking to live here. It included a pool, bowling alley, movie theater, and two massive kitchens. The servants resided in the basement rooms below ours. The rest of the palace served for business and to impress. It boasted grand rooms, theaters, offices, training facilities, cafes—really anything you could wish for. It was a city within itself. My maid, Maja, loved to brag about the magnificence of the building, boasting about the ten courtyards, twenty-nine staircases, and 691 rooms.
Night guards watched Caden and me move down the halls toward the living quarters. Their expressions were blank, but I swore I could hear their internal sighs. As usual, Brexley Kovacs was leading their perfect prince into temptation and trouble.
Yeah, okay, I did that. A lot. But he needed a little excitement in his orderly life. Soon he wouldn’t be able to sneak out with me. It scared me that our time to be free like this was vanishing before my eyes. In a few weeks, he would graduate from the academy and become Lieutenant Caden Markos with his life laid out for him.
He’d no longer have time for me.
As we crept toward our residency, our boots harmonized in their high-pitched squeaking. I burst out laughing.
“Brex, be quiet,” he hissed, but the odd melody merely resounded more loudly through the hall, as did my giggles. He snapped his head to me, trying to glare at me, but humor divided his mouth, a chuckle tapping at his chest.
“I’m glad you find this so amusing,” a deep voice boomed down the corridor. My stomach dropped like lead to my toes.
Fuck.
Standing before us was the leader of HDF, General Istvan Markos.
You could see where Caden inherited his looks. Tall and broad similar to his son, Istvan was still quite fit, with silvering hair cropped close to his head, a very trimmed beard covering his strong jaw, and steel blue eyes. Lines in his face showed the weight and stress of his position, but his handsome features and rank had women at his feet whenever he wanted. His wife’s own beauty did nothing to keep him faithful. When I was fourteen, I found him screwing a Ukrainian princess in his office. He was forty-eight at the time; she was twenty.
Caden halted, stiffening next to me, standing tall with his chin up like we were in training. “Father.”
“I am so deeply disappointed in you, Caden.” His tone oozed with dissatisfaction and censure, and his stern face narrowed in on his son. “I keep thinking you have grown up and left this foolishness behind. It has been a long time since you have been a child. And yet…” He tilted his head, and his blue eyes darted to me, clearly identifying the true cause of his son’s insolence. “You still act the same as one. As do you, my dear. Your father would expect more from you.”
Ouch. I flinched. Straight through the heart. My gaze dropped to the rug.
Istvan sighed, tugging at his uniform, the blazer so decorated in badges, pins, and awards it could be used as a doorstop. The five-star general was beyond intimidating. Cold, calculating, and ruthless, there was a reason he reached the rank he had and stayed there.
Yet Istvan did have moments of kindness. He took me in when I had no one else, though it probably had more to do with his respect for my father. He always looked at me like I was dirt under his shoes, but when I became an orphan at fourteen, he and his wife, Rebeka, took over as my guardians. I had been such a fixture in their lives already not much changed, except my living quarters moved up a few floors, and I had to follow Istvan’s rules. I did a crappy job of that. I was never good with rules.
“Do I dare ask?” Istvan motioned to our clothes, his lip twitching with disgust.
“We went swimming in the pool.” Caden kept his head level, not flinching as the lie slid off his tongue as if it were the truth. The indoor pool was six floors down in the palace. It had been built for training purposes, but we used it year-round for fun.
“You went swimming?” His father’s eyebrow curved up, not believing us for a moment. “At two o’clock in the morning, fully clothed?”
“I pushed him in.” I shrugged, going with the fib. “He retaliated.”
Istvan stared at us for a moment before he took a deep breath, rubbing his forehead. It was so close to something Caden and I would do I was pretty sure he believed our tale.
“I don’t have time for this. I have actual emergencies to deal with. Lives on the line. But your mother found your room empty and called me, pulling me from real work as you two play like five-year-olds.” He pinched his nose, every word stabbing into me exactly as he wanted them to. “Go to bed. I will deal with you two in the morning.”
The general inhaled and took off for the door leading out of the residency, probably heading back to his office. He was not a man who rested much.
“Father?” Caden’s voice followed him down th
e hall. Istvan glanced back at his son. “I am sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“I would like to believe that.” Istvan’s accusing gaze briefly drifted to me again. “It’s time you take your position seriously. Other trainees look up to you, follow you as a leader. Someday you will take over my position. Start acting like it. In sixteen hours, we will be entertaining presidents and rulers. I don’t need to remind you how important this is. The Romanian leader will be here, and I need you both to be on your best behavior.”
“I will do better.”
“From where I stand, you will need to do more than better,” he replied curtly, then walked out, shutting the door to the private wing.
Tension ping-ponged off the walls.
“I’m sorry, Caden.” I twisted to my friend, reaching for his arm.
He jerked away from my touch, his face crunching with anger.
“You always say you’re sorry, Brex,” he said, his jaw twitching. “But I’m always the one who actually is.” He snorted, twisted around, and walked away, leaving me staring after him, tears filling my eyes.
I slowly made my way to my room, shutting the door. Peeling off my wet jacket and tossing it in the laundry basket, a sting of disappointment slouched my shoulders. The only items filling it would be my clothes tonight. Just one person ever went through my dirty clothes, finding the items I stole: my maid, Maja. She helped get the product back to the Savage Lands. Both her son and daughter worked in factories there, barely able to buy bread. She was the one who told me tales of the barbaric living conditions scarcely outside the walls of Leopold. Honored and grateful for her position here, she still tried to help her grown children and their families survive, to afford medicine and food.
Tonight was a failure on all fronts.
With a sigh, I strolled into my huge bathroom, showering the Danube off my skin, and crawled into bed, sinking into the soft mattress with sheets that felt like butter. In the dark, my mind drifted back to Caden. He was Istvan’s only child. I knew the pressure Caden was under, the constant need to prove his worth to his father. But still, I pushed because I sensed the boy I loved was slipping through my fingers.
Savage Lands (Savage Lands #1) Page 2
