Mykel regarded them directly. “I have not been searching for it over the last fifteen years for it to fall through my fingers now.”
“I see your trust in family is conditional.” A vein along Warwick’s neck pulsed, his ire canvasing the air, his temper always on a thin line.
Mykel shot him another glare, his fingers rolling into balls. “It’s not conditional unless you are planning to backstab me first. I protect my family. Which is this place. These people. Brexley is part of it if she wants to be, but she is not my only focus. I will always put my cause first. And I think she understands that.” He motioned to me. “Tracker, Ava, and Luk will go with you. If you are heading into Killian’s territory, it will be dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” A woman’s sultry voice swung our heads back to the door. A blue-haired demon leaned against the jamb, a coy smile on her lips. “Then you aren’t leaving me behind, little lamb. Sounds like fun.”
Chapter
Eleven
The roars of the motorcycles rumbled down the motorway through the night; their arrow formation directed for Budapest like a dart. Air whipped my ponytail against my face, snapping painfully at my frozen skin, the cold night air chilling my bones underneath the heavy coat. The warmth coming off Warwick’s body was a furnace, and I huddled into him as the bike sped closer to our destination.
Curving my head over my shoulder, I saw Ash on his bike flanking our left, the bag on his back full of prized possessions: the book and my two little friends who had become my family. I had filled Ash’s bag with as much material and stuff as I could find to occupy Opie for the road trip back. Luk and Kek were on our right, Tracker and Ava taking up the rear, watching our backs, which took some negotiation with Warwick in the lead.
He didn’t trust them, but Mykel didn’t trust them not being with us. I understood both sides, their distrust of each other, and I became the thin line of truce between.
“It’s up to you, Brexley.” Mykel came up to me right before we took off.
“What is?”
“Keeping the balance.” He flicked his chin to Warwick and Tracker, the animosity between them stabbing like daggers.
“Kovacs,” Warwick called to me to get on his bike.
I turned back to the uncle I had recently met.
“It has been...” Mykel cleared his throat, speaking first. “To finally meet you. I do not regret the choices in my life, but I do wish I had been there more when you were growing up—for you and your father. You remind me so much of him. He was a good man. I miss him.”
“Me too,” I agreed, shifting on my feet, having no idea what to do. He didn’t seem like a hugger like my father was.
Mykel shook his head. “Your father was right.”
“What do you mean?”
“After years of silence, he showed up here barely a month before he died. We got drunk, and he confessed to me you were different. Special. He told me to watch over you, protect you. Bring you here if things took a turn at HDF.”
“Did he tell you anything more?” Andris told me my father knew something was odd about me, but to hear it from another constricted my chest, making it hard to breathe. “What he thought I was?”
“No.” Mykel pinched his lips together. “He shut down when I tried to ask him more, saying he had already said enough to put me in danger.”
My throat tightened. Did that mean my father knew more? Found out?
“I didn’t really believe him, but I still did what he asked. It was strange that he came to me then... like he knew he was going to die,” Mykel said. “I know it seems impossible, but he wasn’t wrong about you. I feel it in my bones. You are special... critical. You were meant to come here. The rock that launched an avalanche.”
A single drop of water can be the one that breaks the dam.
“I will see you again, Brexley.” He dipped his head. For a moment, I saw a softness in his eyes, then it was gone. “Be safe.” He turned, stiffly strolling back toward the base.
Now only minutes away from Budapest, Warwick raised his arm up, signaling for the others to follow his lead. He turned the bike off the motorway, taking a less used road back into the city. We went far enough south to cross over into the Buda side, out of Killian’s domain, heading toward the Savage Lands.
It wasn’t guarded by Killian’s soldiers, and the streets were abysmal, no longer maintained, slowing our pace. It was easier to be picked off by thieves and gangs. It was a toss-up which way was worse: get caught by Killian’s trained fae army or be hunted down by thieves who would kill for a coin without thought.
Darkness clung to the deteriorating buildings, dawn still far off. The smell of the city hit me like a punch, the rotting decay of both human and animal. Animals were fenced in their own feces, homeless peeing and shitting in the street. The war-torn buildings were saggingand hollowed out, on the verge of collapse. Only a few lights from buildings gave a slight glow to the street, creating thick shadows, every outline playing with my vision.
“You sure this is the better way?” I murmured in Warwick’s ear when he slowed down to steer around huge potholes and debris.
“If Killian gets notice of our return... especially yours, our element of surprise is gone.”Warwick’s hot breath tickled my neck. Instead of yelling over the engines and wind, we had communicated the whole trip through our link, which he kept brief, saying no more than necessary. I could feel tension in his muscles, his regard on every inch of the road, on the lookout for threats. Our little entourage was a neon sign for those wanting trouble.
