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Blood Lands (Savage Lands #5)(72)

Author:Stacey Marie Brown

But in this case, gunfire as well.

Darting out of the excavated tunnel, we crept out toward the commotion, perching behind an old stone monument.

“Holy shit.” I gawked. Down the one lane which led in and out of this place, a barricade of cars and SUVs blocked the road, preventing an easy escape. And behind the cars, my eyes caught familiar faces.

Tears of relief sizzled behind my lids.

Eliza, Zander, and Mykel.

Warwick’s head dropped for a moment, his cheek twitching as he took a moment. He didn’t show anything more, but I could feel it everywhere. Relief. Happiness. Pride.

His sister was alive. Not only that, but she finished what we could not. She found my uncle and got us help.

The relief was short-lived. Not far from us, the ground was leveled and primed for new buildings, cutting into the forest. A few structures were being built with a partial thick stone wall, giving a little coverage for at least a hundred HDF soldiers shooting back at Povstat. Istvan clearly had plans to make this into a fortress, assuring we would never be able to escape. I had no idea a whole battalion was above our heads this whole time.

“Go!” Istvan’s voice shot my attention to him, finding him behind a section of the new wall. He waved Tracker on, pushing Olena and Ivanenko to follow him. His faithful lapdog kept crouched, running off behind the tower with the wannabe queen and her daddy behind him, leaving Istvan and Simon with four other guards. All the others were fighting to hold the line against Povstat, Istvan throwing orders and commands to the forces.

No longer were Sonya, Alexandru, and Sergiu with him. They undoubtedly dashed off into the forest the moment they could, while Istvan and the guards were distracted.

My fingers crunched down on my weapon, spotting the box in his hand, his other hand on the back of Simon’s neck.

He deserved to die. He had caused so much suffering.

My finger pushed firmer on the trigger.

“No.” Warwick shoved my gun off the target. “You might hit Simon.”

I was an excellent shot, but Warwick was right. Simon was too close to him. At any second, one could alter a hair, and I’d hit the little boy instead.

“Plus, this shit is personal,” Warwick growled. Crouching, he slid around the stone monument, moving slowly… a predator stalking its prey.

I followed right behind. We kept low, knowing at this distance Mykel’s army wouldn’t be able to decipher between our black prison outfits and HDF’s dark uniforms.

Gunfire volleyed loudly between HDF and Povstat, bullets hitting the tower and the ground around us. Adrenaline coursed through my blood, sweat trickling down my back as I defended us from behind. Even over the shooting, I could hear distant echoes from down the tunnel telling me other inmates and probably guards were headed this way soon, about to add to the turmoil and confusion.

Blood would spill.

Warwick crept behind our targets like a silent killer, darting up to the nearest officer in a blink. His hands clutched the guard’s neck, snapping it as I slammed my pistol into the back of another one, both of them dropping.

The rest of them turned to us as we pounced on the last two guards. Pop! Pop! Their guns fired. I dropped down, slamming my fist into a sentry’s crotch. Groaning, he leaned over in agony as I jumped up, my elbow smashing into the back of his neck with a crack, flattening him to the ground. The final guard crumbled under Warwick’s fatal blow.

Istvan’s eyes widened in fear as Warwick prowled for him. Scrambling back, he grabbed a knife, making the box with the nectar in his arms tip, the item inside tumbling to the dirt between us.

A breath. A blink. Time stopped as Istvan and I stared at each other. And just as fast, it broke.

Surging for it, Istvan’s boot kicked it out of my way, driving the blade into Simon’s skin. The little boy cried out in pain and shock.

Warwick and I froze.

My gaze snapped up to the knife edge cutting into Simon’s neck, the blood trailing down, soaking into his t-shirt.

“Back up! Touch it, and I kill him,” Istvan snarled, desperation shaking his hand wrapped around the knife, his movement more frantic. “Don’t for a moment think I won’t.”

“You do…” Warwick’s body vibrated with untapped fury, his teeth clenching together. “And I will tear you apart bit by bit, making sure you feel every single moment.”

“I said back up,” Istvan yelled, pushing the blade in deeper. Simon gulped, as he tried to hide the terror, struggling to be stoic like his uncle.

Warwick stepped back, his nose flaring.

“You have been a thorn in my side from the moment I took you in.” Istvan adjusted Simon, inching closer to the nectar. “Little did I know the real truth your father was keeping from me.”

My attention snapped up to Istvan, something in my chest curling with dread.

“I thought it was the pills making you different. That changed you… but it wasn’t.” He sneered. “Benet knew what you were all along. Is it why he was in alliance with Povstat, his brother Mykel?”

I sucked in, my shoulders going back at hearing Istvan reveal my uncle’s identity and relation to me.

Of course. “Tracker.” My lip lifted. “Wise to trust someone who so easily turns on his last leader?”

Istvan’s head went back in a laugh. “You think I didn’t know the whole time about Mykel? Who he was?” He tilted his head at me in pity. “Oh, Brexley, so naïve. I knew your father, even unbeknownst to Andris, was working with fae and fae sympathizers, starting a coup against me.”

“What?” I jolted.

“I had Kalaraja follow your father, found the secret cabin he had in Gödöllő. How do you think we were so prepared to attack you the night you went there?”

Realization dropped in my stomach, burning like acid.

“Your father gave up everything for you. Turned his back on his morals, his people… me.”

That was what Istvan hated the most. My father no longer wanted to follow him, no longer thought Istvan was a capable leader.

A sneer came up on Istvan’s face. “So, I killed him.”

The world stopped on a pin. No longer could I see or hear anything around me.

“What?” I whispered, my breath going in and out, barely touching my lungs.

“I was the one who sliced his throat on the battlefield that night. His last image as he choked on his own blood was my face. So easy. Everyone assumed he was killed by fae, which only made the troops more bloodthirsty to destroy the fae. It worked out perfectly.”

He killed my father. He destroyed my entire world.

Everything I believed in was set on fire, burning me up with unbridled grief and fury. Every day I lived with Istvan, he looked at me and knew. Every tear I shed for my father, the heartbreak and grief… it was all because of him.

The level of betrayal had no bottom, an endless pit of rage and hate, bubbling up like black lava, scorching everything in its wake.

“Kovacs…” Warwick spoke low with no emotion, only warning.

Everything around me felt far off, as if I were in a snow globe, shielded from the world. The call to the nectar laced and weaved through me, tangling me into it, giving me no choice. Singing into my veins like a siren, the song lured and drew me into its power. To destroy him. To level everything.

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