Not bothering to take off my clothes or even my boots, I curled on my side, the echoes of pain reverberating in my hollow chest.
With no one around in this cold, unfamiliar room, I let myself feel the heartache and pain before my lids dropped and the darkness claimed me.
Chapter
Two
“Kovacs?” My name sounded like it was heaved through gravel, pulling at my bones, marking them with every syllable. “Kovacs!”
The anger and desperation punched through my chest, stirring desperation in my muscles to find the owner of the voice.
My mouth wouldn’t move, my feet wouldn’t budge, and pure blackness surrounded me. I tried to writhe against the invisible restraints.
“I’m here!” My mind screamed, but nothing made it out.
“Fucking answer me, Kovacs.”
Thrashing and fighting, panic bubbled up, as the more I fought, the tighter I felt locked in place.
“Ko-vacs.” My name was growing distant, like he was leaving.
“No! I’m right here!” I tried to yell. Not a sound came off my tongue.
“Brexley...” The name was more a whisper, only a thread left, my last chance.
A sob wracked my chest, my body still trying to fight. Something clamped down on my leg, snapping my attention down, horror freezing the air in my lungs.
Dozens of bony fingers wrapped around my ankles. Skeletons from every direction clamored for me, clawing and grabbing, yanking themselves from dirt graves, trying to pull me down with them.
A chilling scream tore up from my gut.
With a gasp, I bolted up, fear dancing over my shoulders and shooting down my spine. Sweat dampened my forehead and back, my chest heaving.
My gaze darted around the compact room. The fire bulb above my head allowed me to search every corner, the anxiety from the dream still coating me.
Memories quickly filed back in order, my brain registering where I was.
Povstat.
I was in Prague. Inside my Uncle Mykel’s rebel base.
Taking slow breaths, I tried to calm my racing heart. Chills ebbed from the back of my neck while the feeling of the dream sat heavy in my stomach.
I glanced at a clock on the wall, which read 4:12 a.m.
Blowing out the breath I’d been holding, I fell back on my pillow. I was still tired, but my mind raced wildly, and I knew there was no way I would fall back to sleep.
I shifted with a groan, a light headache clinging to me. Ruffling through the clothes left for me, I grabbed what I needed, along with the bathroom kit, and moved to the lavatory. The showers and toilets were private, the tile and counters clean. It didn’t smell like chlorine and shit like Halálház, though any bathroom with no windows or air filter system always had a heavy smell of mold coming from the walls and water trapped in pockets in the drain. I had lived most of my life with a bathroom that could rival noble palaces, but this was becoming my norm, more familiar than a fancy palace.
A few early risers were getting ready for the day, the communal bathroom still quiet. Quickly showering and dressing, I pulled my wet hair up in a ponytail and headed up to the second floor. A man was setting up a coffee cart near the elevator, and I practically mugged him for a cup.
“Seventy korunas.” He held out his hand right as the coffee hit my lips. I blinked.
“What?”
“You have to pay for the coffee.” His eyebrows furrowed. I couldn’t tell if he was human, fae, or a mix. He was handsome, young-looking, but had creases near his eyes and a grouchy countenance.
“I-I don’t have any money.” The humiliation over how pampered I grew up colored my cheeks. Caden and I never had to pay for anything, from food to clothes. It was all put on Istvan’s account. You never saw money being traded for products in Leopold; it was all taken care of behind the scenes, like a dirty secret. I heard many of the wealthy hadracked up such high tabs they would be forever indebted to Istvan. Probably exactly what he wanted.
