The dome ceiling above, from which Ash and I had peered down, gave the room a vastness, which echoed all the pain and horrors in the space. It was so different to see it from above, peering down through the glass, than being right in it.
They had twice the tables I recalled from last time, each one filled with fae. Small to tall, skinny to fat, young to old. They were hooked up to those machines, being forced to shift while being drained of their essence. Some fought and cried while the rest lay there, with no life left to give, waiting for the end to come.
The back of the room had even more water tanks, going down another wall in an L-shape. Most were filled with young men, in boxer briefs, floating inside. They were unconscious, covered in monitors and tubes, breathing through a respirator. Fae essence was being pumped into their system.
“What do you think?” Istvan stepped into my eye line, and it took everything in me not to shudder. I was so distracted that I hadn’t noticed him. He flicked his head over his shoulder. “The new and improved way. Only the privileged and exclusive are selected or can afford it. Our waiting list is already a year long.”
I tried to keep my breath steady, my jaw locked shut, not looking at him.
“Come, Brexley, let me show you. Maybe you will see what I am trying to do. What I am creating here.” He motioned me to step forward as he spoke to the guards. “You are dismissed.”
The guards bowed, retreating at his order.
He walked up closer to the tanks, stopping in front of one. My chest squeezed out a noise, my eyes locked on the mostly naked man inside. I knew him. Grew up with him. He was the son of Istvan’s right-hand man, Lieutenant Andor.
Reaching out to a clipboard hanging next to the tank, Istvan read. “David Andor. Age twenty-seven. Diagnosed with stage four lymphoma last year.”
I remembered that. He had to quit the HDF force. It was said he only had months left to live.
“Completely cured now.” Istvan’s attention sat heavily on me, waiting for my reaction. His ego needed me to be awed and enamored. “He is cured of his fatal disease because of me. Living because of me.”
“Is he living, though?” My gaze shot to him. “Even alive, won’t he be under your thrall? Duty-bound to you for his remaining days. And those might be shorter than he thinks.”
“Not so, but isn’t it still such a small price to pay for your life.” Istvan almost shrugged, his tone becoming businesslike. “But this way, we have found they are not thralled, as you put it. They don’t have any of the side effects of the pills, except one.” He shifted on his feet. “The finding of Dr. Rapava’s fundamental theories and experiments on this type of fae to human transfer was good. It has a much higher success rate. Very nearly faultless.”
“Nearly faultless? What does that mean?” I retorted, wiggling my arms still cuffed behind my back. “And I’d think you’d want them obedient dogs to do your bidding.”
“Most people are meant to be footmen. There are merely a select few who are meant to lead through history.” He nodded to the tanks. “And even less who change it.”
“You mean yourself.” I wrinkled my nose. “The rich can afford to save their sons, while the less wealthy become your minions.”
A smile took over his features, making the hair on my arms stand up. “You really would have been a great ruler of Romania. A great asset to me.” He shifted to fully face me. “Andor and his entire family, whatever happens to Daniel down the road, will forever be in my debt. Emotionally as well as financially.”
“Ah, yes, I remember. Better to have those owe you than have friendship,” I repeated a phrase Istvan had said to Caden and me many times. “Friends are never as faithful as a person whose whole world is in your hands.”
A smugness lit up his eyes at me recalling his teachings.
“If only you and Caden had actually listened to my words of advice. Things could have been quite different.”
My lids narrowed on Markos, my intuition sensing a deeper underlying meaning.
“So why do you need me if you have it all figured out?” I nodded to David.
“Because as much as we are advancing, the one weakness in this… they are still dying. David is not the first person we cured of disease to have them die later on. All from a pulmonary embolism.”
“All? Do the Andors know?” I narrowed my view on Istvan. “That he will die anyway?”
“If he dies, it will not be from cancer.”
My teeth locked together. The hatred and loathing I felt for Istvan almost choked me. Lieutenant Andor was an asshole. I hated the man, but what Markos was doing was beyond cruel. He gave them hope—their son back. Only he would be ripped from them anyway, and all they would get was endless debt and forced loyalty.
“It’s why you are so fascinating to me.” Istvan studied me as he would a bug. “I should have taken more notice of Dr. Karl’s tests when you first returned after your stay with the fae lord. I’m paying attention now, especially after what you did in Věrhăza. Oddly, I feel I need to thank the fae lord for giving me such a gift. You might be my miracle.”
“Glad we are cutting the bullshit. You knew I was with Killian before I even returned to HDF. Spied on me. Tried to play me. You even had my death planned out, blaming it on the fae to manipulate Caden.”
“And you finally admit you were in my office that night. Eavesdropping. And stealing from me.”
I didn’t respond. It wasn’t a question.
“Well, lucky for me, I didn’t kill you, because you have become far more useful to me.” He lifted a brow. “And what I saw in Věrhăza… I don’t know why you are special. Why the pills worked on you and no one else. Why you live and thrive. How you have magic.” He tipped his head. “I feel you were meant to survive, to be brought here and now, so I can achieve my objective—to save the human species.”
“Of course.” A dry laugh erupted out of me. “This is all about you. That you are some king or God and not some narcissistic psychopath.”
His mouth shut, a nerve along his jaw jumping. The hisses from the machines and cries of pain felt far away as Istvan and I stared each other down. He took a step, getting close to me, his icy blue eyes filled with ire.
“Watch yourself. I have been very lenient with you over the years. Treating you the same as family and far better than you deserved, especially after what your father and Andris did.”
The rage and grief at what happened to Andris burned up my esophagus, rumbling the fire in my gut. Istvan shot Ling straight in the head in front of him, then pitted him and me in the ring together, all because Andris fell in love and found out the world wasn’t so black and white.
“The only reason you are even alive is because of the blood in your veins.” He leaned in closer. “The moment we have a replica of it, you are dead. And I will make sure you stay dead.” He stressed. “Then I will forget all about you. As my son will do after I’ve cured him.”
“Cured him?” I jerked back, my forehead wrinkling.
Istvan stood straighter, his shoulders pushing back.
“You don’t think I noticed he came back from Andris’s fae group different as well. Maybe not in blood, but in mind. He’s always been weak when it came to you, but even more so now and for fae too. I could see it before, but last night showed he’s developed feelings for them. He needs to see the bigger picture.” A bitterness snarled his nose. To Istvan, empathy and caring were a weakness.