“I think this time will be better, sir.” Dr. Karl spoke to Istvan, his speech pattern quick and nervous. He put another needle in my vein, taping it down and turning to the other victim. “He is much stronger than the last. She was riddled with disease. Clearly too weak to handle it. He is perfectly fine, except for Byssinosis, a Mill Lung disease. I feel positive this will work this time.”
“It. Better.” Istvan’s words were controlled, but I could hear the threat. The demand for a positive outcome or else.
Sweat dripped down Dr. Karl’s forehead, and he swallowed, understanding the same thing.
Curving my head, I allowed myself to look at the form next to me as Dr. Karl hooked him up to the blood bag we’d be sharing.
He had dark eyes and hair and was skinny but all muscle, the kind you got from doing physical labor, day in and out. Young, but already held the burden of a hard life on his face. His head turned to me, his eyes meeting mine; they were filled with a fear—a plea—as if I could help him.
My head jerked, my eyes going to the ceiling, not able to look at him.
Maybe this time it will be fine. What if this does help him? Can I help others?
I clung to that hope, my heart racing through the sedative when Dr. Karl turned on the machine, yanking my blood from my veins.
The knee-jerk reaction to defend, to protect myself, trickled sweat down my spine. Today it hurt more. I could feel every molecule of myself being ripped away this time. The sedative was gone, and my body struggled against the binds, noises huffing from my nose.
“What is wrong with her?” Istvan barked.
“I-I don’t know...” Karl was right there, checking vitals and my drip, fiddling uselessly around me.
“Did she already go through the sedative?” Istvan stomped closer.
“She shouldn’t have.” Dr. Karl’s voice pitched up. “I gave her double the dosage, and it took her much longer yesterday to burn through it. It’s only been ten minutes.”
Istvan waved in my direction. “Well, something is wrong.”
“Kovacs.” Warwick stood over me. The grip of his fingers on my face instantly stilled me. His presence was calming, but the pain did not relent. If anything, it amplified. Slicing the connection between us. Shredding my power from me.
It was why I was burning through the sedative faster, why it felt something was ripping me from the inside out. After last night, the bond between us had become stronger. There was more to cut, to shred from me, our link layered like generations of wallpaper glued to a wall. It felt as if someone was trying to rip it away with their fingers, coming off in strips and pieces.
Warwick’s adrenaline pumped through my system, fighting with me, but I could feel him waning, being shredded away from me, like peeling my skin right off my body.
“Hold the fuck on, princess,” Warwick growled, his shadow flickering, before the tie between us was snuffed out.
“Noooo!” I belted, my back arching off the gurney, thudding back down in a crash of metal and cries.
I would not lose Warwick. Nothing would survive if it got in my way.
A guttural scream bellowed from the man next to me, instantly stopping my flailing as he thrashed. His body jackknifed with horrendous wails, blood spewing from his lips.
“What the fuck is going on? What is happening?” Istvan snapped. His default when he got scared was anger.
Red liquid pooled from the young man’s eyes, his body convulsing.
Oh, gods, no. It was happening again.
Dr. Karl pranced between us.
“Do something!” Istvan yelled.
Dr. Karl ripped the tube from his arm, my blood splashing onto the floor in a sea of red. I knew in my gut it was too late.
Crimson gurgled and foamed from his mouth, and the man’s eyes widened, a guttural, terrified noise building inside his chest. It was the sound of someone who knew he was going to die. He let out a howl then stopped, his body going limp. Motionless. His eyes staring blankly above.
His spirit slipped away, just as the girl did yesterday, leaving his shell vacant.
Dr. Karl pumped at his chest, pressing defibrillators above his ribs. It all was for show. He knew it too, but I could see the palpable terror he had of admitting another fail to Istvan.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he fumbled, talking quickly. “I am so sorry. I don’t know what happened. It should have worked.”
Istvan’s jaw tightened to the point that veins popped in his neck.
“Get another one,” Istvan commanded the guards at the door. “And take this one away.”
“What?” Dr. Karl swung to him, eyes wide, while Blondie unlatched the dead body, dragging it off the table.
“We do this again until we get it right. This time no sedative. I don’t want anything affecting the results.”
“But—”
“I don’t care if you go through the entire Savage Lands population. We don’t stop until it works. Everything is riding on this,” Istvan shouted, stomping up to Karl. “Get this right. Today. Do you understand me?”
“Ye-ye-yes, sir.” Dr. Karl nodded, his skin sweaty and pallid.
The door burst open, Brown Curls bringing in the next test subject. My attention went to him and then to the figure next to him—terror carved through my gut, my chest cracking.
He had a girl of maybe ten.
“Noooooooo!” I screamed, writhing against the manacles holding me down.
“Put her here.” Istvan pointed at the now empty gurney. Blood still pooled on the floor around it. The little girl started to cry, wanting her mommy.
“You sick fucking monster!” I seethed, my nails curling into my palms at my sides. “What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have any soul left?”
Istvan’s chin flicked up, his mouth pressed. “I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Understand? She’s a child!”
“Research has shown they are a lot more resilient. Their bodies bounce back.” He defended his actions. “It’s how we evolve, Brexley. Learn. Grow. Wouldn’t you rather know you helped save thousands of lives? Helped cure diseases, take away suffering? I do... so who’s the one here with no soul?”
A strangled noise scratched my throat, my arms and legs kicking and knocking against the restraints. The little girl cried harder, running to Istvan as though he was the one who would protect her from me. I was the monster.
I tried to calm down but then Istvan pushed her back to the officer. He put her on the bed, strapping her tiny ankles and arms down.
“It’s okay.” Lie. “It’s going to be okay.” I forced my tone into a calm, soothing timbre. Her whimpers were knife cuts to my gut. “Hey... look at me.”
It took more coaxing before she lifted her brown eyes to me. She was the same age as the little fae girl I promised I would get out of here. I failed my promise to her.
“What’s your name?” I tried to distract her from what Dr. Karl was doing, the large syringe in his hand.
Sniffing, her small voice barely made it to me. “Mischa.”
“Mischa, I’m Brexley.” I tried to keep my voice even, pretending this was all going to be fine. Dr. Karl hooked her to the machine, her eyes watering again, her chest moving up and down frantically. Her fear was palpable, only upping mine.
“No diseases, no drugs, no sickness. She is the purest specimen we have to test on.”
Purest specimen. They did not see the scared little girl. The one who had a family and a whole life to live. All they cared about was themselves. Their power. Their rights. Their own egos.
My narrowed eyes shot to Markos. “You may be a human, but you have no humanity. Rotten from the inside out.”
“Shut up,” Istvan snarled.
“You claim fae are soulless murderers? Look at yourself, Istvan. How can you do this to a child? How about your own child out there?” I flicked my head toward the main room. “What about the woman you spent the last twenty-three years with? Where is Rebeka?” Istvan’s blue eyes shot to me, his jaw working. “Did you kill her?”
Istvan’s cheek twitched.
“Where is she?”
He ignored me, nose flaring, his eyes blazing. “Do it now,” he ordered Dr. Karl.
Dr. Karl jumped, turning on the pump.
A guttural shriek jolted up my esophagus. Without sedation, I could feel every molecule of my blood being seized from my veins. Taking Warwick away from me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched my plasma fill the bag and start down the tube to her arm. With every centimeter it moved, panic trounced my limbs.
I was going to kill this little girl.
“No!” I screamed out. “Warwick!”
I could hear a roar echo from the room over, the walls vibrating, jolting all the heads toward it.
His other self was over me again, his lip curled, his breathing heavy.
Fury and violence.
“Use me, Kovacs.”
The little girl started to scream in agony, her tiny body shuddering.
And I shut my eyes, giving over to whatever power we had together, allowing his energy to slip into me, filling my muscles with strength.
Adrenaline flooded into my body, and I yanked on the restraints, hearing them tear apart.
“Sedate her!” I heard Istvan bellow.
“You told me not to!” Dr. Karl exclaimed.
“Do it now!”
I couldn’t let them drug me. Digging deeper, taking more from Warwick, I felt the high of his magic, the greed of wanting it all. A bellow heaved from my mouth, the clasps breaking away with a snap. I scrambled off the gurney.