Warwick fucked me in color, but he just unleashed…
The Grey.
The name hummed in my veins, a power I didn’t even realize yet somewhere inside me, but this place kept it dampened. Quiet.
For now.
The fae formula the human guards were on was able to slip past the spells blocking this prison of fae magic. Warwick and I seemed to be another loophole. From Halálház to Věrhăza, the spells in the prisons couldn’t seem to prevent our connection. Though this time I could feel the wards trying. Killian put thicker enchantments on this place. Like a weighted blanket trying to hinder our mobility, the spells couldn’t entirely eclipse the power between us. I had this rooted feeling nothing could.
Pulling on a fresh uniform left out on the table for me, my limbs quaked severely from the aftershocks of Warwick, of the intense surge of power knotting us together. The peak of my high was starting to slide down the mountain. My grief was distant, though I knew it wouldn’t stay there, the pain slipping steadily toward a tar pit of darkness. For this moment, I was thankful it was dulled down.
Thoughts and ideas rolled around my head, and by Warwick’s silence, I knew the same were going through his. He was guarded, trying to put up a barrier, but I could still feel him, and if I pushed hard enough, I could break in. Like he could do the same to me.
We would have to lay down some rules later, but right now wasn’t the moment. With four guards laying at our feet, one starting to stir, our time was limited.
“It’s back.” I twisted my long, wet hair over my shoulder, squeezing out the water.
Warwick huffed. “No shit, princess.” His voice growled into the back of my neck as he stood in front of me.
I sucked in a breath, my lashes fluttering. How much I had missed that. The intimacy was profoundly sensual and comforting. His shade bumped into the back of me as the real man stepped closer, sandwiching me in between the two.
He was redressed, but my gaze wandered over him, wondering how easily we both could be naked again. My body warmed with the fantasy of both him and his phantom inside me.
Warwick smirked, sensing my thoughts. “Dirty girl.” His spirit nipped at my ear. “You want a threesome, Kovacs? To fuck both of me at once?” The actual man stood over me silently, predatory. We had done glimpses of it, touches, licks, and bites from our shadows at the same time, but never solidly both. And Warwick’s other self was almost as real to me.
A moan from a few feet away broke me out of our haze, where our hunger for the other seemed to take away all rational thought. The guards started waking up. We had nowhere to go or run. It was a matter of minutes before I’d have to face what I did.
“The nectar.” I jumped back on topic, a rush of terror bleeding through the euphoria. “It’s back as well.”
Warwick’s demeanor shifted in an instant, his jaw clenching, head dipping. “I know. I saw it too.”
“If it’s found…” I swallowed. I had no idea where it was, if it had been dumped, picked up by scavengers.
“Istvan can use it,” he muttered.
To be both happy and terrified over our connection returning pitted a war inside me.
“I think it’s been slowly coming back to life since—”
“We fucked at Kitty’s,” he replied bluntly.
It was the first time we had been intimate since I burned through the nectar. We brought it back; our connection balanced and strengthened it. And it seemed to get stronger each time we were together.
Guilt over finding pleasure just after killing my uncle and taking Zuz’s life dropped the high I was on to the floor. Despair gurgled up my throat, and emotion started to pour in.
“Stop.” He stepped up to me. I gulped back the sob wanting to take over, fighting back the emotions that were becoming louder. He didn’t ease them, and I didn’t ask. “Hating yourself is an insult to him. To all of them. Andris wouldn’t want that. You gave him time. Most humans don’t seem to cherish it even though they have just a blink of it in the scheme of things. Appreciate the extra time you got with him. Don’t let your ego get in the way, Kovacs. Don’t make this about you and your guilt.”
My first instinct was to lash out, to tell him to fuck off, but deep down, I knew he was right. My uncle could have died a month ago, under the rubble, but he lived, had more time with his family, with me, and with Ling.
A guard groaned from the floor, drawing us to him. He reached for something on his belt, a type of walkie-talkie. “Help! Level 5 latrine,” he gurgled and hissed into it. “Code one!”
Warwick’s boot slammed into his head, knocking away the device and the man out cold again.
But it was too late.
Commotion echoed from a distance. They were coming.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Anxiety funneled into my bloodstream, adding to growing panic, skirting me closer to the edge. Instinct always made you want to run, but there was nowhere to go here. After what I’d done, I knew where it would lead me, which speared my panic higher with thoughts of the hole. I was strong, but I didn’t know if I could make it through again without bending completely to Istvan.
“Hey.” Rough hands grabbed my face, forcing me to look solely at him. “Look at me. Whatever happens, we make it through, right?” He gripped me harder. “We fight.”
My nostrils burned with unshed tears, the hollers growing louder.
“No matter what.” He gritted through his teeth at me. “Right?”
Nodding, my voice cracked. “What are we going to do? What if someone finds it? I know Caden is out searching for it. What if he does and hands it to Istvan?” We were screwed.
“We do the only thing we can. We take it back.”
“How do we do that?”
“We find a way out of here and kill everything standing in our way.”
The pounding of feet and yells jerked my head to the doorway. A group of soldiers led by Boyd came through the large doorway, their gazes going from the guards strewn on the ground to us.
“About time you boys showed up. I was getting bored. They broke way too easily.” Warwick stepped away from me, putting up his arms as if he were the one who attacked the sentries.
Oh shit…
“Seize them!” Boyd pointed at us. Men with batons, guns, and whips surged for us.
Warwick’s focus stayed intently on me.
“No.” Fear tumbled down into my stomach at the realization of what he was doing.
He winked, a glint of mischievousness in his eyes, right as he whirled around on the few soldiers grabbing for him. The crack of his fist splintered across one’s face. His quickness and skill punched about five of them before their clubs reached him, dropping Warwick to his knees with the spiked batons.
“No! Stop!” I pitched forward, but a handful of sentries seized me, their faux-fae power holding me in place as I thrashed and fought to reach Warwick.
They continued to dice and chop into his skin, kicking and beating him until his face and limbs were bloody.
“Please!” I begged.
The moment Boyd approached, they all backed off, letting their leader move in.
“If you wanted back in the hole so bad, you should have asked me.” Boyd leaned over Warwick, smiling creepily. “Need to get away from the missus that bad, huh? And here I thought she had a magical pussy, able to get so many of you to trail after her like schoolboys.” Boyd glanced back, leering at me. “I didn’t get a full taste last time. Maybe I should sample it again.”