Savage Lands

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Savage Lands Page 28

by Stacey Marie Brown


  “What? No mint on your pillow at night?”

  “Fuck you.” I got on my knees, wobbling a bit, moving closer, poking his bare chest. He leaned his head back at my nearness. “Don’t patronize me or make me less. I’ve had men do it to me most of my life. Don’t forget that I endured the House of Death…the attacks, the starvation, and torture. I didn’t have the luxury of being ‘king’ there, having everyone, even the guards, at my beck and call. I survived the Games. I murdered three people. Two at once, if you recall,” I seethed, our chests pressing together. “I killed one of my own friends. So get off your high horse. In there, you were the pampered and entitled one.”

  His eyes tracked me, darting and moving over me as he slowly inhaled through his nose. Not responding felt like a victory to me, and I wasn’t about to let go of my seat.

  “Now, before you can have another sip of this,” I wiggled the bottle, keeping it out of his reach, “you are going to answer some of my questions.”

  “Really?” His brows went up at my audacity.

  “Really,” I replied, settling back on the bed. “Starting with what the hell happened last night. I know the escape was planned. So sit your ass down and start explaining.”

  Chapter 29

  “I don’t need to explain anything to you,” he replied coolly, glowering at me.

  “Hmmm.” I sloshed the potent liquor around in the bottle, taking another drink. “Suit yourself.”

  His lids narrowed into slits, a nerve in his jaw twitching. “You’re blackmailing me?”

  “Guess it depends on how bad you want this.” I forced down another large gulp, doing it more to piss him off than for the enjoyment. “It’s only coercion if you want this more than being a stubborn ass.”

  A low rumble came from him, his hand sliding through his damp hair and scouring at his face. “You are a conniving little bitch.”

  “Thank you.” I downed another sip, warmth moving through my limbs. On an empty stomach, it sank into my bloodstream like melted butter. “Now explain to me how you knew the jail would be attacked. Why Zander helped us escape? Why you helped me and where you’ve been all day?”

  Warwick’s chest expanding in anger, using his build to loom over me. His lip rose, and he shook his head. “Fuck this.” He whipped around, heading for the door. I knew I lost my leverage, my clout over him oozing out like air from a popped balloon.

  “Wait.” I started to climb off the bed. “Warwick, stop.” I stepped down and my leg gave out, sending me crashing to the floor with a thud, my tailbone smacking the floor.

  “Jesus.” He flipped back to me, crouching down and grabbing my arms. “You realize you were shot in the leg, right? Try not walking on it for at least five minutes.” He heaved me back on the bed, scolding me like a toddler.

  “What?” I opened my eyes up wide. “I was shot?” I did a dramatic double-take, looking down at my bandaged leg. “Oh, my gods! When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He grunted, rising to his full height. “You are hilarious,” he said, unsmiling.

  Taking the palinka, I sucked more down, in real need of numbing the aches stabbing me like a voodoo doll. Knowing I lost the first round, I sighed, letting out my frustration. “Okay, how about we start easier.”

  “Like?”

  “You.” I motioned up to him. “I’ve heard about you since I can remember. What’s true? What is false? Are you fae? Human?”

  “You ask a lot of questions.”

  “Can you answer any of them?”

  “Yes.” He tilted his head. “And no.”

  Collapsing my face into my palms, aggravation gurgled from my throat.

  “What? I answered your question.”

  “Yes and no? How is that answering it?”

  “I’m human…” He reached for the bottle tucked between my thighs.

  “What?” My mouth dropped open. “You’re human?”

  “And fae.” He smirked, tipping the bottle into his mouth, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I’m one of those degrading mixed breeds. Someone tainting the purity of both races.” The derision crawled thickly over each word. “Part of the group that doesn’t fit in anywhere.”

  Half-breeds were only accepted in the Savage Lands. Pure humans lived in Leopold, the elite looking down on those who would mix with the enemy, finding it vile and gross to be friendly to a fae, let alone bed one. The fae side felt the same about mixing with humans.

  “But why weren’t you in a blue uniform? How come no one could figure out what you are?”

  “Because I don’t belong there either,” he muttered before consuming half the bottle.

  “What?”

  “At one time, I was a half-breed.” He wiped at his mouth.

  “One time?”

  He shrugged, moving away from me, his fingers going to his wet pants, peeling them down his body, making my pulse skyrocket. His bare, perfectly sculpted, firm ass was so round I wanted to bite into it like a juicy apple.

  “What are you doing?” Unable to tear my gaze away from his lower half on display, my heart pounded in my ears. The night in the shower together, I had been so distraught, I didn’t fully take in his physique. Damn, this man…

  He peered over his shoulder as if he could sense my craving, catching me ogling his rear, roasting my cheeks into a deep char.

  “They’re chafing because someone got them wet.” He lifted an eyebrow. Everything he did seemed to be doused in sex and danger, tapping into this deep feral need.

  He stripped off his shirt, his muscular back flexing and twitching under his skin. A bandage covered one arm where he’d been shot, his tattoos and scars demanding my attention.

  Fuuucck.

  Turning away, I took in clipped breaths, trying to act as if he didn’t affect me, that his body didn’t make mine respond with raw need. My act was more for myself than him. His smirk told me he saw right through me.

  “What did you mean?” I cleared my throat, my gaze sliding and darting back to him as he took a minuscule threadbare towel off the dresser, wrapped it around his waist, then moved to the window. He flung his pants and shirt near the open frames to dry, then dropped down into the chair, propping his feet up on the bed, bottle in hand.

  “You probably know more about me than I do.” He settled into the wingback.

  He was not going to make this easy for me.

  “One of the rumors is you died then came back to life.”

  His mouth pinched together, his finger rubbing the lip of the bottle.

  “True or not true?”

  “Is there a third option?”

  I rotated to face him, confused by his non-answer. “No.”

  He adjusted, glancing out the window.

  “True.”

  My eyes bugged, ready for him to respond the opposite way.

  “W-what? How?” That was the one thing neither human nor fae could escape. Death was death. “Was it only for a few moments?” It was possible to restart a heart within a reasonable period of time.

  He squirmed again, clearly uncomfortable with this topic.

  “No, I was dead.” He rubbed his temple, flinching as though he was reliving it. “I was stabbed, shot, gutted, and burned alive before someone snapped my neck.”

  A small gasp caught in my throat.

  “They really wanted to make sure I was dead.”

  I didn’t move or breathe, not wanting him to stop.

  “It was the night of the Fae War. Right before the final barrier fell, I was jumped by many enemies at once. A hunting party.” He stared out of the window, taking another drink.

  “How is that possible?”

  “Sotet démonom,” he muttered so low I was pretty sure I imagined him saying “my dark demon.”

  My neck prickled at the name. I folded my legs to my chest. From what I heard and read of the Fae War, the night the barrier fell, battles raged throughout the world between those who were on Queen Aneira’s authoritarian side—who wan
ted to turn the humans into slaves—and those against her dictator reign, wanting to end her rule. The fae crashed through the holes in the barrier as she tore it down, killing and attacking anyone on the other side, the flood of magic taking out millions of humans. One of those was my mom.

  The day I came into this world was filled with death and blood.

  “That’s my birthday.”

  His gaze snapped to me.

  “I was born the moment the final wall dropped. It was a very difficult birth…and I guess between me and the magic flooding in, my mother couldn’t take it.” I lowered my chin on my knee. “I killed my mother.”

  He stared at me. For a second, I thought I sensed a taste of alarm and confusion, but quickly it disappeared. He pulled his eyes off me and turned his attention back to the bottle, guzzling more. He abruptly stood, strolling for the door.

  “Are you leaving?” A panic I hated hearing in my voice called out to him. He ignored me, his hand on the knob. “Like that?” I motioned to his barely covered physique.

  “It’s a whorehouse, Kovacs. I think I’m overdressed.” He ripped the door open. Rosie stood there with her hand up like she was ready to knock, a bag in her other hand. Her eyes widened at the sight of the mostly naked man, the towel not hiding the hard outline of him at all. Her gaze slowly moved down him, a sensual smile glowing her eyes as she stopped right on his package.

  “Wow,” she breathed, biting her lip.

  “Thanks.”

  “If you need any assistance with that…” She nodded at his cock, chewing on her lower lip.

  “Really?” He leaned against the doorjamb, his eyes sliding back to me so fast I didn’t know if it happened.

  “I mean, I am a professional.” She grinned up at him.

  Irritation bloomed in my chest. I had the strange urge to slam the door on my new friend.

  “Did you need something?” Clearing my throat overtly, Rosie’s attention snapped to me, her head shaking like she was stepping out of a trance.

  “Oh, right.” She held up the bag. “Madam wanted me to bring this up to you. She figured you’d be starving and needing more to drink.”

  Pushing off the frame, Warwick took the bag. “Damn, that woman is psychic. I was about to ask for someone to bring dinner.”

  “It’s why she is where she is. She anticipates people’s needs before they do.” Rosie twirled her hair, her glazed eyes dreamily looking at him again. “We all do here.”

  “Well, tell her I said thank you.” Warwick dipped his head at Rosie, stepping back, taking the bag over to the table.

  Rosie sighed, inspecting his backside, practically drooling on the floor.

  “Rosie,” I called her name, but it was as if she didn’t hear me, lost in him. “Rosie!”

  She jumped, head whipping to me, her eyes going wide, looking bewildered. She motioned to him that he was at fault. Mouthing “sorry” to me, she gestured to her head, acting out like her brains were melting on the floor. I couldn’t help but chuckle at her theatrical pantomiming at the door, the actress in her showing.

  “Anything else?” Warwick swung back around. Rosie stood straight, pretending like she wasn’t about to swoon to the floor.

  “No. I’ll leave you two…alone.” She looked back and forth between us with a grin, reaching for the door. “Oh right, Madam also said it would be better if you didn’t venture out tonight. Some guests coming in tonight might be very keen on knowing you two are here. Guess there is a high bounty for you both.”

  Warwick’s head dropped in understanding, the space between his eyes wrinkling. “Thank her again for us.”

  Rosie dipped her head and shut the door.

  “Guess we should be honored we already have bounties on our heads.” I rubbed my arms, a chill running down my skin. Spending all day recovering in this place made me forget about what was going on outside these walls.

  “Yeah, when I went out earlier, the streets were swarming with fae soldiers.”

  “Many of us escaped last night, right? There must be a lot of criminals they want to recapture.”

  Warwick huffed, turning his back to me. He pulled out the items in the bag, and the smell of noodles and sauce curled in my nose, my stomach clenching with hunger pains.

  “They are only after us.”

  “Us?” I repeated. “Why just us?”

  Silence.

  “Where did you go today?”

  “Got rid of the bike,” he said, opening one of the cartons and sniffing.

  “It took you all day?”

  “No.” Warwick turned around, handing me a carton of noodles, my mouth watering at the container of pad thai, forgetting everything else.

  “Oh gods, this looks so good.” Not waiting for him to hand me a utensil, I scooped up the noodles, dumping them into my mouth, half of them hanging out, dripping down my chin.

  “Go slow.” He tossed a fork on the bed next to me. “Your stomach is not used to a lot of food, and it will retaliate if you try to stuff it too fast. Believe me.”

  I heard him, but the taste of the delicious noodles spurred me to eat more. It felt like years since I had proper food.

  “I warned you.” He grabbed a new palinka bottle out of the bag, his carton in the other, and fell back into the chair, digging into his meal.

  “Shit, this is so good.” I moaned, thinking I would actually orgasm right there. His gaze drew up to mine, his lids narrowed. “What?”

  He grabbed the liquor, pouring it down his throat until it was a quarter gone.

  “Jesus. Who is the one who needs to slow down?” I stuffed more food into my mouth, another groan escaping my lips.

  He muttered so low I couldn’t hear him and shifted in his chair like he was uncomfortable.

  “Why do you think they are only after us?” I garbled through the food in my mouth, getting another huge bite ready.

  “I just know.” He rammed a full fork into his mouth.

  “What else did you have to do earlier?”

  He continued to eat, not answering me. This seemed to be the theme tonight. Switching tactics, I went back to the topic he seemed open to.

  “Why did you say you used to be a half-breed? That doesn’t make sense.”

  He stabbed at his noodles, taking a deep exhale. “I died, and when I came back, I was different.”

  “Different? How?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Try. My human brain will attempt to keep up.” I rubbed my stomach, feeling it gurgle.

  “Just different. Can’t really explain it.”

  “Wow, you’re right, I will need it dumbed down for me.”

  He shot me a look, then turned back to the window. Darkness was creeping into the room. The activity in the street and in Kitty’s was picking up, music and voices flittering through the thin walls and windows. This seedy part of the city was coming to life.

  The wall he kept slamming between us like a drawbridge had gone up again. I knew when I was losing a battle.

  “Last question tonight.” I moved, my stomach squeezing with discomfort, nausea flooding over my tongue. “What was the reason you got locked up in Halalhaz?”

  The side of his lips pulled up as he leaned his head back in the chair. For some reason, a spike of fear licked at the back of my neck.

  “Repayment.”

  “And that means?”

  “I tracked down all the people who had killed me…one being the fae king’s right-hand man. In the end, he fell just the same as the rest. They got to feel everything I felt.”

  “You did the same back to them?” I sucked in, the wavy sensation in my stomach slouching more. Stabbed, shot, gutted, burned, and a broken neck.

  “And strung them all up as a warning.” His eyes burrowed into mine as if he was seeing if I’d run from the room.

  I didn’t. “It took you twenty years?”

  “No, it took me five. It took the guards twelve to track me down.”

  He had been locked a
way in Halalhaz for three years. And survived. I probably should have feared him, but I felt strangely calm. Serene in his presence.

  My stomach had other ideas.

  “Oh, gods…” My hand went to my mouth. “I’m gonna be sick.” Not even feeling the ache in my leg, I tore off for the bathroom. I heard his laugh follow me down the hall.

  “I warned you.”

  Asshole.

  “It’s hot, right? I’m hot.” My mouth moved without much input from my brain. Everything felt toasty and happy.

  My stomach ejected the food quickly but settled once it was back to being empty again, forbidding me to add anything except liquid. I lay on the bed, suckling on the mostly empty bottle, mourning the waste of my tasty dinner, while Warwick finished off his meal and the rest of mine. At least I had a nice buzz, a really, really nice one, taking the edge off the pain, worry, and most of all, him.

  Nighttime was in full bloom, the house and passage below thriving with activity. Music, laughter, glasses clinking, smells of food, body odor, perfumes, and cigarettes crammed through the open window, battling for dominance.

  I could hear the girls already shouting down at pedestrians passing by, encouraging them to indulge in their wildest fantasies.

  “What do you want, pretty boy? Fae, half-breed, or human? Male or female? On top or underneath? Against the wall or over a table? Chains or feathers? Any way you want it,” a woman purred down above us.

  “How about all my friends and me? It’s his birthday,” a youthful boy’s voice hooted up.

  “Ugh.” I swallowed, no longer feeling the burn of the shoddy liquor, each sip glossing the room in a haze.

  Warwick scoffed, pouring back his own shot, his attention out the window. He began to slump down more into the chair with every chug he took.

  “What?” I struggled to push myself higher against the headboard, my muscles limp and floppy.

  “You really are uptight and prissy, princess.”

 

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