“Bakos was wrong. He’s very real. The legend and myth are true.” I bit down on my lip. “The man who just threatened you? The man in black…” My gaze went to Aron’s, feeling the power of saying his name. “Is Warwick Farkas.”
Aron stumbled after me, trying to refute what I had just confessed to him, but the more he tried to deny it, the less sure he sounded. So many stories about the fae our parents or grandparents grew up thinking were fables were our reality, the fae having shown themselves when the barrier fell. But Warwick Farkas was one we still put in the Santa Claus or zombie category. No one rose back from death as if nothing happened and was neither fae nor human. Necromancers and Druids were said to do it, but it was black magic…wrong…and it came with bad consequences. The person was not right. Hollow, soulless, and angry, they were slivers of their former self, forced to live but not actually alive, their bodies cold and awkward.
Warwick was not any of those, his blood ran hot, his presence so full of life it choked you.
I was sure the part of him about being brought back to life was highly exaggerated; the man was real. So real, he caused everything in me to vibrate violently. I felt lost and found at the same time. He was everything I imagined a legend would be: overwhelming and on another plane, high above us mortals.
“85230,” a familiar voice yelled out for Aron. Boyd’s figure moved toward us. My stomach twisted at the sight of him. Boyd’s eyes dipped to me, a sneer curling up his lip. “Awww, little fishy, I see you already found another fishy friend. How adorable.” To Aron he said, “You are in the laundry room.”
Aron’s shoulders rolled back, his nose wrinkling with disgust at the fae guard.
These two were so much alike—a very bad thing for Aron.
“Just hold her hand, and she will show you.” Boyd puffed up, getting into my face. “Isn’t that right, smelly little fish? You know how it is here. Who’s in charge.” He nudged me, making sure I felt his threat pressing into my hip. “Though I still need to break you in, put you on your knees.” His insinuation spread smugly over his face.
“Be careful,” I replied coolly. “Piranhas have sharp teeth and are known to bite…hard.”
“You do, fucking bitch, and you’ll know how it feels to have your intestines pulled out and stuffed down your throat.”
Aron lurched for Boyd, but I quickly moved in front of him, his chest smacking into my shoulder. Boyd’s gaze tracked our movements, his head tipping back in laughter.
“You are dumb as fuck.” He snickered at Aron. “Not a surprise with you humans. You better stick with her. She seems a bit smarter than you.” He stepped back. “Better hurry, you don’t want to be late on your first day.” He motioned for us to move. “After you.”
Taking a deep breath, I strode past him, catching sight of Lynx watching me from the door before stepping inside. I could never tell what she was thinking. Her gaze was always intense but neutral. I sensed many layers beneath it.
I went directly to my table, pulling out my pile of mending, not looking at either Lynx or Tess on either side of me, while Boyd heaved Aron over to Hexxus.
“85230,” Hexxus snarled at the new human, his gaze roaming over Aron like he was putrid food. “Station behind the other fish.” He pointed to a recently empty spot behind me, a victim in last week’s Games.
“What are those? Sewing machines?” Aron snorted. “Isn’t that women’s work?”
Holy fuck. Holy fuck. My teeth clenched together, my lids squeezing briefly at the silence following his statement.
The Aron I knew was back, his ego shoving common sense and everything I told him out of the way. He had never been truly opposed in his life and was the epitome of entitled—praised, coddled, and rich and only getting reprimanded with a stern voice or his back to a mat. All things he could walk away from and nothing really threatening. He had no common sense in the real world.
“I mean, isn’t there something more useful for me to do?” He glanced around, as though his comment was perfectly reasonable. “Build shit. I don’t sew.”
Hexxus watched him, expressionless, tension growing as Aron seemed to realize the shocked silence was pointed at him. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his gaze fluttered to me.
Then Hexxus’s head tipped back, and he released a howl, the kind of laughter that set my teeth on edge. Not one of us moved or breathed. Hexxus’s hand slapped down on Aron’s shoulders, shaking his head with humor. A smile twitched on Aron’s face, and he joined in a little on Hexxus’s laughter.
“Right?” Aron motioned toward the machines, chuckling with Hexxus. “I’d be better doing something physical. Us guys don’t have a clue how to use those.”
“Oh, Boyd, you didn’t tell me our new guy here was so funny. He thinks this place is some kind of retreat where he can pick his own activities.” Hexxus patted Aron’s back.
It happened in a blink. Everything shifted.
Hexxus’s eyes became black, his skin turned white and paper-thin, stretching over his bones, his teeth snapping. He shoved Aron forward, his fury discharging like tangible particles in the air.
Crack!
The lash of the whip snapped across Aron’s back, knocking him to the ground with a scream.
Crack!
The sound of cloth, flesh, and muscle splintering apart ripped through the air. Aron’s screeches tore through my eardrums as he tried to crawl away.
Fury burst from Hexxus, his body vibrating with energy. The demon was fully in control; any sliver of humanity was gone. His arm lashed down over and over brutally with raging passion. With every strike, my skin echoed in understanding, recalling the unbelievable pain.
Strike after strike, Hexxus didn’t relent, and I wanted to scream for him to stop, to save my comrade. Bile filled my stomach, shooting up my throat, tears clouding my eyes.
Aron’s shrieks turned into full sobs, blood spurting and spilling from the wounds. “Brex,” he whimpered, his eyes pleading with mine. The survivalist in me told me to keep my mouth shut, not to get involved. My head twisted toward Lynx, her dark eyes meeting mine.
I got it—what she had done for me.
“No.” She shook her head, but I was already standing.
“Please, stop,” I begged, trying to swallow back the vomit in my throat. “Please don’t kill him.”
Hexxus’s arm stopped midair, his black eyes turning on me. Nerves down my neck twisted and jerked, feeling his anger turn on me.
“You dare stop me in the middle of my lesson?” Hexxus’s arm dropped, and blood splattered all over his face and clothes. “You think because you are in the Games, you are untouchable?”
“No, master.” I bowed my head. “I would never deem myself that high.”
“Good.” Hexxus nodded, his eyes shifting back to yellow. “Because you aren’t. You are nothing.”
An agonizing moan came from Aron, shifting Hexxus’s attention back down to his limp body. “Get this thing out of sight.” He kicked Aron’s ribs, glancing over at Boyd.
Boyd stared at me, a cruel smirk on his face, not moving. Hexxus’s eyes flipped between us with mystification.
“Boyd,” he spat. “Am I missing something?”
“No, sir.” Boyd kept his sleazy gaze on me as he strolled over to Aron, a leer twisting at his lips.
“Play with your pets on your own time,” Hexxus growled. “Get this piece of shit out of here. I’m sick of dealing with stupid, arrogant humans.”
“Don’t worry.” Boyd squatted down, grabbing Aron and easily lifting him over his shoulder. His gaze found mine again. “I know the perfect place for him.” His cruel smile widened as he carried Aron out of the room.
My throat tightened, fear poking between my ribs, sensing something more behind Boyd’s sentiment. Before I had time to analyze it, Hexxus was standing before me, his expression back to neutral.
“For what you just did?” He leaned in, Aron’s blood dotting his skin like freckles. “I should lash you until your muscles
could be used as floss.” His hand wrapped around my throat, his thumb pressing into the pulse at my neck. He licked his lips, loving my terror. “But I have bets on the Games tonight, and feeling your fear as you get brutally torn apart in the ring?” With his free hand, he wiped Aron’s blood off his cheek with his finger, sucking it off. “It will be such a high. It’s like the best fuck in the world. And I will get off on your death tonight. Enjoy it like a sweet wine.” He shoved me back, my ass knocking back into my chair.
He whirled around, his arms going up in the air.
“Everyone back to work. And thanks to your colleagues’ interruptions, there will be no breaks or food.”
Daggered glares and hisses shot toward me. Tess shook her head in loathing.
“Danger and violence,” Lynx murmured for only me to hear. “They follow you.”
I couldn’t disagree.
Relief eased down my shoulders as I started to work, but the sneer on Boyd’s face haunted me.
Whatever respite I got today, I would pay for later.
Chapter 20
“Pir-an-ha. Pir-an-ha.” The crowd’s chants dove into my bones, oscillating through my body, violently thumping my heart and lungs. The sharp smell of my fear, dirt, blood, and sweat clung to the tunnel where I stood, the light beyond the gate cutting through the bars.
“Blood-ing! Blood-ing!” Piercing calls exploded around for my life or for me to end my opponent’s. It didn’t seem to matter.
My stomach pirouetted with nausea, my teeth chattering against each other. The terror hadn’t ebbed any. It shook me deeper to the core. I understood what was out there, what would happen, and how tiny the possibility was I would step away this time with my life.
“You ready?” Zander’s hand reached for the gate, his brown eyes finding mine through the dark shadows.
“No.” I rolled my jaw. “But I don’t really have a choice, do I?”
Zander’s hand dropped away from the handle for a moment, touching my arm lightly, moving close to me.
“I can’t tell you everything will be all right,” he said quietly, turning my head to his and forcing me to concentrate on his words, drowning out the cries from the stands. “You are fast and clever. Use everything you can to your advantage. And fight like as though your life depends on it.”
“It does,” I replied, feeling my chest falter at his proximity, his beautiful face blurring out everything around me.
“It does,” he repeated. His features were serious, but his deep brown eyes were soft on mine. “Dirty. Cruel. Unforgiving. Do whatever it takes. You cannot die. You don’t understand.” My brows wrinkled at his last statement. He swallowed, his fingers pressing firmer into my jaw. “The fact that you are human and a woman means nothing here. Use it. Be smarter, quicker. Just win.”
“You sound the same as my training instructor.” A sentimental smile hinted on my lips while grief cracked through my heart.
Zander stared down at me, his intensity reserved and quiet, but I could feel so much from his eyes. He leaned in, his mouth inching closer to mine. “What is it about you? I can’t fight it. I am drawn to you—”
“Come on!” A bang hit the gate, jolting us away from each other, my attention snapping to the figure on the other side.
Damn it.
“Well, well… Now I see why you were so protective over the human, Z.” A malicious smile curved up on Boyd’s face as he leaned into the gate, his gaze darting between us. “Breaking in this one for yourself?”
Zander didn’t answer as he stepped toward the door, pulling out his keys.
“Thought we shared around here.” Boyd salaciously licked his lips. “Though I guess it’s pointless now.” Boyd’s eyebrows wiggled. “She won’t be making it out of this one alive.”
Zander unlatched the lock, and Boyd tugged the bars open.
“Come on. The people demand your presence for the fish fry.”
“She’s still fighting the human prisoner, right? The one picked from the lottery?” Zander’s hand grasped my wrist as I stepped forward.
“Oh, did they not tell you?” Boyd parted his mouth in false surprise, reaching for my other arm. “The order has changed. She’s proved she can fight at a higher difficulty. She did win her fight last time.”
“What?” Zander’s fingers gripped harder around my bones. “When did this happen?”
“Just a little bit ago.” Boyd smirked, tugging me from Zander’s grip. “Did you miss that discussion? Oh, right, you were busy getting her.” He shrugged. “So eager to volunteer to get your filly here.”
Boyd slammed the gate back on Zander’s face, gloating.
“Who is she fighting?” Zander’s head flicked up in irritation, his foot stamping at the ground.
“Why ruin the surprise?”
Boyd walked me several steps, leaving me in the middle of the arena before heading over to another gate. A shadowed figure stood behind it—the person who would either kill me or die tonight.
The mob cheered louder at seeing me enter the arena.
Use their energy. Focus, Brex. Survive.
Boyd wrenched open the other gate, letting out my adversary.
Fear crashed down on me, dulling the crazed cheers, stomping feet, and excitement from the crowd jumping and moving in my peripheral as the fae strutted out.
No. Nononono.
Oxygen evaporated from my lungs, acid rushing into my throat.
My opponent strode in with arms wide open, pumping up the crowd; his arrogant sneer tugged up his lip.
“Bull! Bull! Bull!” The crowd switched allegiance in a blink, their fickle devotion going with the strongest player. Ruthless and cold.
My head whipped back to the tunnel. Horror filled Zander’s eyes, his head shaking in denial.
“No.” He pushed to open the door.
“Uh-uh.” Boyd wiggled his finger at him. “You know the rules. Once they are in the ring, we can’t intercede.”
A bray huffed from Zander, and for a moment, I thought he was going to come through the gate and rush Boyd, but he stepped back, his sorrow-filled gaze telling me he could not help me.
Snapping back to Rodriguez, I licked my lips, trying to calm my frantic heartbeat.
Fear got you killed.
The bell declared the fight was on. I could feel the bloodthirsty fans salivating for violence and my death.
“Bull! Bull! Kill! Kill!”
Rodriguez smirked, strolling over to me with bored arrogance. “Wow, not really fair, is it?” He winked, pausing about five feet from me. “Guess it will be an early night for me. Shower and back in my cell in what…twenty minutes?” He moved in closer, lowering himself to attack, his nose flaring, his feet scraping at the ground.
Countering his moves, I peered around me, trying to find items I could use as weapons. They had changed the setup since my last fight, taking away some, adding others.
“Brexley Kovacs.” Rodriguez purred my name, his tone twisted with disgust and desire. “I won’t lie; I’m really gonna enjoy goring you, spilling your guts on the ground.” His nostrils puffed with excitement. “Just think, this whole time, the HDF princess has been under our nose. General Markos’s pet bitch. A rich, entitled, spoiled human girl. You will be glad I killed you tonight. Consider it kindness, as the inmates will pick at you until you’re a bag of bones.”
“You fae keep telling me that.” I offset his progression, my boots sliding over the dirt. “But yet, here I am.”
“Not for long.” He lurched for me, setting off the crowd, his head tilting as the cheers descended on him, a smile curling his lips. A showman. He thrived on the attention. Lived for the spectacle.
Use it, Brex. Use his ego against him.
The problem was how to do that. He was an excellent fighter, brutal even, feeding off the crowd’s energy.
“You are like a bright red cape dangling in front of me.” He padded the ground, ready to come for me. “And soon you will cover the ground in the same colo
r.” He stepped closer. “Your people killed my sister. It’s only fair I kill you.”
I didn’t respond, but my eyes darted to his, making his evil smirk grow wider.
“Yeah, you have a lot of enemies here now, human. It’s why I asked to fight you tonight. My sister was just a calf, but they had no problem kidnapping her, experimenting on her, and then taking her life.” He spat at the ground.
Experimenting? What the hell was he talking about?
“And I will have no problem doing the same to you.”
The information barely sank in before he leaped forward, his bulk barreling into mine, the back of my head smacking the ground with a painful blow. He grappled for my arms, trying to pin me beneath him.
Forcefully I bucked my hips up, tipping him forward, getting him off-center as my teeth bit down on his arm, loosening his grip on my wrist. Shoving my palm into his face with all my might, he fell off me, his face hitting the dirt.
I rolled out from under him, climbing to my feet. He twisted back for me, his fingers digging into the back of my leg. I kicked out, my foot cracking across his cheek, flinging him back into the ground with a grunt. After I stomped my boot into his side, his hand clamped around my ankle, twisting and pulling my leg. My knee popped as I turned, my face hitting the ground as I dropped, leaving my back exposed and vulnerable.
Get up! I screamed at myself, hearing him get back to his feet. Rushing forward, he pounced on my back, his fingers curled around my neck, crushing down on my throat.
A gasp choked out of my mouth as my lungs searched for air, his hand clamping down harder. Ringing filled my ears as my vision blurred, my lungs burning for fuel.
He seethed in my ear, but my mind couldn’t pick up on words, trying too hard to breathe, panic swarming me like a cloud of flies.
Savage Lands (Savage Lands #1) Page 18
