“But it was too late. The world had already been forever changed.
“A small group of people had managed to escape this new way of life. They came from all over the world, and together built a life away from the madness around them. They refused to bow down to any king or ruler and instead kept true to nature, holding honesty and respect above all else, and in turn they were able to keep their magic.
“Eventually, after enough time had passed, the outside world had forgotten magic altogether and began to fear that which they didn’t understand.
“The ones who had run, their families became hated, known as tramps, vagabonds, and thieves.
“They were used as scapegoats and accused of crimes they hadn’t committed.
“Persecuted.
“Hunted.
“Killed.
“They were slaughtered by the thousands.
“So they continued to run, never staying too long in one place, never trusting anyone who wasn’t part of their clans.
“And so…the Gypsy was born.”
Taking a deep breath, Hockey flipped up the bill of his Blackhawks hat and met Tyler’s sad gaze. It was obvious what Rachael’s true purpose in the man’s life was. She was a fill-in, a way to ease the grief and loneliness. Hockey knew this because the faraway, broken look on Tyler’s face mirrored what he felt inside. The man missed his family, still loved his wife, and would leave Rachael in a heartbeat if it meant he could have it all back.
Feeling the bone-deep loneliness he’d been living with rear up inside him despite trying to keep it at bay, Hockey tossed what was left of his spitfire rat into the barrel fire and got to his feet.
Misery did not like company. At least, in his case it didn’t.
“Night,” Rachael called out.
“Hockey!” Mira shouted, jogging up behind him.
He stopped and turned. “Don’t leave me alone with them,” she whispered loudly, fighting a smile.
Amused, he shook his head and held out his arm. Skipping forward, she slipped underneath his arm and settled into the crook of his elbow. Together, they headed to his bedroll. Not only was it freezing, but he didn’t blame Mira for not wanting to be around David or Chris. And as much as he hated to admit it, the warmth from her body made it easier for him to sleep through the bitter cold nights.
Under the covers, Mira coiled around him. Hockey buried his face in her hair that smelled faintly of smoke, and held her close. She smelled strongly of body odor, faintly of urine and bonfire, but underneath it all, she smelled like a woman.
And no man could deny that sleeping beside a woman wasn’t infinitely preferable to sleeping alone.
Chapter Ten
Nico was overreacting. He knew he was and yet he was helpless to stop it. But damn it, Tobar-motherfucking-Popa was sitting on his couch, next to his wife, holding his daughter. And she was his daughter because it wasn’t Tobar who woke up in the middle of the night, every night, and undressed a snoring Becki, freeing a breast to feed the kid. It wasn’t Tobar who rocked her in his arms for hours on end, keeping her warm, and it wasn’t Tobar who changed her many, many shit-filled diapers. No, that wasn’t Tobar, that was him.
But it was Tobar who was currently getting her little coos and smiles, and it was Tobar who was seated so close to Becki that both their arms and legs were touching. And it was Tobar who was going to get his face pounded into the corner of the counter—
“Frate,” Xan said, elbowing him.
“What?” he snarled.
“Let’s go for a walk.”
Nico glared at him. “In the snow?”
“Yeah, in the fucking snow.” Grabbing Nico’s coat off the hook by the door, Xan tossed it to him.
Fine. Whatever.
He’d put on his coat and go for a walk but before he left, he was going to make a big show of kissing his daughter good-bye. And his wife…she’d get tongue. A lot of it. Maybe a boob grab too.
“Don’t do it,” Xan said quietly. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s only going to make shit worse.”
Nico, about to tell Xan when and where he could go fuck himself, glanced toward Becki, saw her playing with Michaela, smiling and laughing with Tobar, and decided that once again Xan was probably right.
Gritting his teeth, he shrugged on his coat and without a word to anyone, stalked out the door Xan was holding open for him.
“Smoke?” Xan asked, digging through his pockets. Emerging with a pack of hand-rolled cigarettes and a lighter, he placed one between his teeth and then offered the pack to Nico.
Shaking his head no, Nico folded his arms across his chest. “Frate, is there a reason I’m standing in the snow, freezing?”
“I like blood as much as the next guy,” Xan said around an exhale of smoke. “Maybe a little more than the next guy. But blood and babies don’t mix, and with all that aggression you were throwing off in there, frate, it was about to get bloody.”
Nico’s hands fisted. “I would have dragged him outside first.”
Smirking, Xan shook his head. “Baró Fuckhead is more powerful than you. He’d have you flat on your ass before you got near him.”
Before Nico could punch him in the face for that asshole statement, Xan grabbed his arm and started dragging him forward, weaving through the rows of trailers until they came to the center of the living lot. Then Xan shoved him in the direction of the food tent.
“What we need to do…” Xan said, ducking in behind him under the heavy canvas tent flap. Ignoring him, Nico took a seat at the nearest picnic bench.
“Lyuba!” Xan shouted in the direction of Marko’s mother. “Două vă rog!”
From behind the steaming pots, the older woman glared at him. “Only because you said please, you big idiot!”
“What we need to do,” Xan repeated, sliding into the bench across from him. “Is get him laid. Then he’ll lay off Becki.”
Nico snorted. “Fat chance of that happening. Nobody likes him anymore.”
“But he’s Baró,” Xan said, grinning.
The two men stared at each other.
“Magdolna,” they said simultaneously and just as quickly started laughing. Magdolna was one of the Horváth triplets, all three of whom had pretty loose morals when it came to men. Before he’d gotten serious about Becki, he’d dabbled between Magdolna’s thighs more times than he could count, but their mutual feelings for each other had never surpassed friendship.
Lyuba appeared above them and slammed down two bowls of steaming stew. Pausing for a moment, she glared down at Xan before spinning on her heel and marching back to her post.
Xan watched her stalk away, shaking his head. “She blames me,” he said quietly. “For Marko running off.”
As far as Nico was concerned, Marko was a fucking asshole who deserved whatever fate he met. “Forget her,” he said. “Are you good, frate? All bullshit aside?”
“I’m breathing,” Xan said quietly. “I’m keeping my dick in my pants and I’m sober, and that’s about all I am.”
What the fuck was he supposed to say to that? Congrats on no longer drinking yourself to death? Or good job on not falling between every pair of spread legs in camp?
Thankfully, Xan chose that moment to pick up his spoon and start eating, saving Nico from having to respond. The two men ate in silence until Xan set down his spoon and said, “I miss her. I feel like I’m gonna miss her for the rest of my life…” Trailing off, he let out a large breath that hung like a cloud in the frigid air, and glanced away.
“Frate—” Nico started, then stopped. He didn’t have a clue what he was going to say.
Xan turned back to him. “Do you think she’s…Trin…do you think she’s alive?”
No. Despite her magic giving her an advantage most people didn’t have, Trinity had been alone ever since receiving her powers. Without learning how to properly use them, after seeing firsthand what she had accidentally done to that hospital, Nico couldn’t fathom that things had gotten better for her.
But what did he know? He’d lived as part of a clan his entire life, had been taught by an entire community of people everything he knew. They’d worked as team to survive; they always had. The absence of a few wouldn’t change much, whereas the absence many would change everything. But Trinity…she hadn’t grown up like that. Maybe she was alive. Nico didn’t think so, but that didn’t mean he was going to tell Xan that.
“Yeah,” Nico said quietly. “I do, frate.”
As he stared across the picnic table at Nico, Xan’s lips began to twitch. “You’re a bad liar,” Xan said. There was no malice in his tone, no anger in his expression. In fact, Xan looked more at peace than he ever had, and Nico felt the stew begin to churn in his belly.
Everything he had—his wife, his daughter—could all be gone in an instant. One little attack on their camp, a raid gone bad, the appearance of a half-out-of-his-mind dragon hybrid who just so happened to be his best friend’s wife’s soul mate… Okay, maybe not that last part—that was all Xan’s problem—but everything else…
Nico didn’t have enough time. He wanted decades and decades with his family, but in a world like this, where survival was spotty at best…
“I gotta go home,” he said, jumping up and swinging his leg over the bench.
Xan smiled up at him. It wasn’t a happy smile. Xan didn’t have much to be happy about, but it wasn’t a sad smile either. It was a deliberate smile, and seeing it, knowing his friend was going to hurt like hell for the rest of his days because the guy had lost what Nico still had—in his trailer…with Tobar—had him running.
He burst through the door and found the scene much as he had left it. Only now, Michaela was sound asleep in Becki’s arms and Tobar was still sitting far too close to Becki.
Grabbing Tobar’s arm, he yanked his baró off the couch and shoved him toward the door. “Time to go,” he growled.
Tobar’s eyes turned white. “What the fuck?” he hissed.
“Nico!” Becki cried as she got to her feet. “You promised you’d—”
“Shut up,” he told her, reaching for the sleeping baby. Gently, he took Michaela out of her arms and offered her to Tobar, who, for a moment, only stood there gaping at him.
“Take her,” Nico said. “Take her to see Maisera or Nadya and spend some quality time with your family.”
Stunned, Tobar glanced to Becki, who looked equally stunned.
Nico rolled his eyes and tried again. “Take her.”
Although bewildered, Tobar took her, shifted her into a upright position, and wrapped her tiny body up inside his coat. With one last long look at Becki, Tobar was finally gone.
Nico was on Becki within seconds of his departure, hauling her up against him and yanking down her pants. While he was down there, he slung an arm under her bare bottom and heaved her up over his shoulder.
Quickly crossing the trailer, he threw her down on their mattress, his hands curled around the back of her knees, and in one swift move, he pulled her body to him, thrust his hips forward, and sheathed himself inside her. Becki cried out, her hands scrambled for the sheets beneath her, searching for something to hold on to, something to keep her grounded. But he wasn’t going to let her; he pounded into her without regard for her comfort or pleasure because this wasn’t about love, this wasn’t even about getting off. This was a free-for-all, a spin into oblivion with not one goddamn thing to keep themselves tethered to this awful reality they were all stuck within.
“Fată,” he said roughly. “Până la moarte…”
She didn’t respond.
“Dupa moartea,” he rasped.
“Nico,” she gasped, her eyelids fluttering. “Nico…”
“No,” he growled. “Mereu…say it, soție…”
“Mereu!” she cried. “Te iubesc, mereu!”
Becki might not have meant it, but it didn’t matter. She was his, he was hers, and he was going to milk every second he had left with her. Nico was going to devour her, use her up, drain her dry, and then come back for more, over and over again until they were nothing but bones, nothing but dust.
And even then…
He’d still take her.
Chapter Eleven
“We’re nearly out of food.”
Hockey glanced up from the small fire he’d started inside an empty paint can to where Mira stood above him. She was shivering, gaunt, and tired looking. Hell, they were all cold, tired, and hungry. Winter had been raging much longer than anyone had expected. He felt certain the worst of it should have passed by now, that spring should have sprung, but instead they were still in the thick of winter. Storm after storm continued to rage through the city, leaving them trapped inside and unable to search for food.
For weeks now, they’d been rationing what little was left of their stockpile, eating only meager meals once a day in an attempt to make it last.
Mira dropped down beside him and pulled off her gloves. Holding her reddened, chapped hands near the fire, she rubbed her palms together in an attempt at warming them.
“What’s left?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Some dried fruit, a couple of cans of vegetables.”
Hockey reached up and pulled his Blackhawks baseball cap down over his eyes, something he often did when he was thinking. Someone would have to leave the building to get food, and no one was going to be able to survive out there…except him. He had enough internal fire to keep a nice bubble around himself that would shield him, but it wouldn’t last forever. He guessed he would be able to pull off a few hours of consistent use until he began to tire, leaving him little choice but to release the element. Whereas his affinity for fire was strong, he didn’t embody the element, he was simply a funnel, a conduit, a connection between the ether and the earth. He could channel that power, use his body as a spark to light the flame, and then direct that flame, tell it where to go and what to do. But eventually, as with any sort of physical exertion, it would take its toll.
Flicking up the brim of his cap, he reached across the small space and grabbed Mira’s shoulder. “I’ll take care of it,” he said, giving her a friendly squeeze.
“And I’ll come with you.”
Hockey released her shoulder. He should have seen that coming. Mira wasn’t only headstrong and stubborn, she was also insubordinate as all hell. “No,” he said slowly. “It’s too dangerous.” Forget the fact that couldn’t use his magic in front of her; even if he could, he didn’t have enough energy to shield them both from the storm.
“And it’s not too dangerous for you?” she demanded. “Do you have superpowers that I’m not aware of?”
Well…yeah, he did.
“No way,” he said firmly. “I’m not risking both our lives out there.”
Mira’s eyes flared wide and Hockey readied himself for some verbal whiplash of the female variety.
“Tyler!” she yelled. “Tyler!”
Hockey closed his eyes. He had to hand it to her; Mira was a smart girl who fought dirty. Sighing, he got to his feet just as Tyler reached their corner of the room. “What’s up?” he asked, looking from Hockey to Mira. She pointed an accusatory finger in Hockey’s direction.
“He’s going out there and he won’t take me with him.”
God damn her, Hockey thought. God damn…women.
“Man,” Tyler said, squatting down beside him. “It isn’t safe out there.”
Hockey turned just a fraction of an inch and met Tyler’s gaze. “It isn’t safe in here either.”
“Mira,” Tyler said, keeping his eyes on Hockey. “Give us a minute, will you?”
In typical Mira fashion, she made a noisy show of getting to her feet, sighing loudly, and muttering as she stomped off across the room.
“You need to take her,” Tyler insisted, his expression grave. “She’ll be safer facing the elements than she would be here with…”
Tyler trailed off, but Hockey knew what the man was about to say. Mira would be safer battling through the snowstorm than trapped inside a warehouse w
ith two men who couldn’t be trusted.
“What about Rachael?” Hockey asked.
“I can protect her,” Tyler replied, his tone oozing confidence that Hockey couldn’t mirror.
David was physically strong but emotionally unraveling. Glancing across the large room, Hockey found the man was leaning back against a wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes on Rachael. The feeling of foreboding Hockey felt every time he looked at the guy intensified. If Chris and David teamed up against Tyler, Hockey wasn’t positive the man would prevail.
All of which meant Tyler was right. Hockey couldn’t leave Mira behind knowing what he knew, but neither did he want to leave Tyler or Rachel at the mercy of two men who were proving to be highly unstable. On the other hand, he couldn’t take everyone. Rachael, especially. It would be hard enough wading through the raging storm outside, dodging Skins and searching for food. Having to listen to Rachael complain, or worse, crumple under pressure, which was something she was good at, would only lengthen their time outdoors or worse, result in all of their deaths.
Sighing in resignation, Hockey nodded in agreement. But he was far from happy about any of this.
Now he was going to have to come clean about his magic, at least with Mira, and hope to God she didn’t have a nervous breakdown because of it.
Tyler rose to his full height and Hockey followed suit.
“If you run into trouble out there,” Tyler said, “don’t worry about us, okay? Just protect yourselves.”
Half an hour later, Tyler and Hockey were moving aside the stacks of shipping crates and tearing down slats of wood they’d used to barricade the door. Hockey took quick peek into the hallway, his ears straining for any sort of noise that wasn’t related to the weather, and decided it was safe enough.
Reentering the room, he glanced at each face of his small group of companions. Tyler looked resolute and Rachel appeared worried. Chris looked ambivalent, and David? David just looked insane.
He didn’t like this. So many things could go wrong. But what choice did he have?
The Lost Souls Page 6