The transitory base was in the middle of a nondescript block of abandoned buildings near the old marketplace. The entrance was tucked in an alley and behind dumpsters and piles of rubbish. All the windows were boarded up, and the space underground was cramped and old. A rush of guilt clipped my chest, knowing I was the reason the last place was found. Why they were “homeless” right now.
“Don’t fret,drágám.” Andris patted my arm, seeing right through me. “We will find a new home.”
“I know, but?—”
“No buts. We would have been discovered eventually.” He shook his head. “That is the life we chose. At any moment, this place could be compromised. Just how it is. Do not blame yourself.”
We took all the precautions coming here, but I hoped it wasn’t in vain. Kalaraja was a master at what he did, and he was set on finding me. He was the reason HDF knew precisely where to attack us tonight. How could he always discover my location without any other fae sensing him? The man was like a ghost.
“Lieutenant, we placed the girl prisoner in the empty storage closet.” Maddox strolled up, reporting to his leader. “Scorpion is watching her.”
“Her name is Hanna.” I gritted my teeth.
“Hanna?” Andris’s eyes went wide. “You mean little Hanna Molnár? Albert and Nora’s girl?”
Five years ago, we were little and young to him. I was fifteen and Hanna had been fourteen when he left. And he had very little interaction with her or her parents, probably only remembering a scrawny blonde teen who sometimes hung out with Caden and me.
“We have her here?” His eyes widened, irritation furrowing his bushy brows at Maddox. “You know the rule. We don’t take prisoners.”
Maddox’s nose flared, his jaw crunching. “I know.”
“It’s my fault.” I stepped in. “She’s my friend. I wasn’t going to let them kill her.”
“Even if they’d turn around and kill us?” Maddox asserted.
Andris palmed his head, rubbing feverishly, muttering under his breath.
“Tell him who we have taking up a cot in our healing ward.” Maddox pursed his lips, his eyes on me.
Andris’s head snapped up, his spine straightened. “Who?”
I cringed, already knowing how his name would be received.
“Who, Brexley?”
“Caden.” I winced, watching the word hit Andris and soak in, a vein in his forehead bulging. Andris of course knew him well; Caden and I were inseparable. He treated Andris like a pseudo-uncle because I considered him so. Andris worked for his father before Caden was even born.
If possible, I think Andris aged another ten years in that single moment.
“What?” he exploded. “You are telling me we have the son of my enemy, the one who thinks I’m dead! In here? Right now?” He pointed off down a hallway.
Maddox arched an eyebrow at me in an “I told you so” expression.
“Yes.” I nodded.
Andris’s mouth opened, then clicked shut. He started to pace, his mouth opening again, then closing.
Uncle Andris didn’t usually show emotion or get “mad.” He kept his cool and worked things out, while my father popped off like fireworks. It was rare, but there had been times I had seen Uncle Andris upset, mad, and even furious. I had never seen him speechless.
A strangled noise clogged his throat, the vein on his forehead dancing. “You.” He pointed at me. “Follow me now!” He marched off, anger riding his shoulders like a cowboy.
“Someone’sin trouble,” Maddox sang under his breath.
“Shut up,” I snarled, feeling every bit the adolescent teen about to get grounded. I stomped after my uncle, Maddox snickering like an older brother getting his sibling in trouble.
Passing a makeshift war room, I spotted Ling at a computer, her fingers flying over the keyboards. She briefly looked up, her dark eyes meeting mine. She was good at keeping her emotions unreadable, but I swore I saw her sigh, like, “See. Once again, danger and violence follow you.”
Yeah, it did.
