Slamming into me.
A scream caught in my throat as his weight knocked me off the bike, plunging us to the ground. Bones crunched, smacking the stone. The bike was shoved over by the force of our weight. All of us skidded across the pavement like scattered cargo. The shrill sound of metal scraping over stone pierced my ears. My head spun as I tumbled, not even comprehending any pain yet. The clip of hooves on the road echoed in my head like an alarm, telling me to get up. Run.
“Kovacs!” I felt Warwick’s call in my soul more than I heard it. My lids fluttered, and I turned my head to the gang. Their horses pranced and huffed as they took in the body of their fallen comrade a few yards from me. Then one of them leaned over, swiped up my bag, and without a second glance, steered their horses around and rode off.
“N-n-no...” I cried out, struggling to sit up. The need to run after them had me on my feet, picking up a gun and opening fire.
The shots ricocheted off the stone walls, mocking me with their empty threats as the gang continued to ride away.
“Nooooo!” I tried to run after them, limping, my arm twinging in agony as I continued to shoot, panic blanketing me with the need to not let them out of my sight.
“Kovacs!” Warwick wrapped his arms around me, yanking me back, ripping the gun from my hands. “Stop!”
“No!” I tried to wiggle from his embrace. “Let go! We have to go after them!” He didn’t relent. “Do something!” I thrashed harder. “Or get the fuck out of my way!”
“No.” He grunted when my elbow dug into his gut.
“They have Opie and Bitzy. They have the journal,” I heaved, knowing they were too far to catch by now anyway, but logic didn’t matter. Tears prickled at my eyes. “Let me go! You fuckin’ pussy!”
He didn’t surrender his hold or move, but I could feel him explode around me, his anger and violence scraping and scratching against my skin, pushing in deeper, halting the air in my lungs. It only pissed me off.
“Get off me!” I kicked my heel into him.
I heard a soft groan and, at first, I thought it was Warwick, until the noise came again.
A louder grunt came from the man lying on the ground. Warwick’s arms dropped, clicking the gun he took from me, strolling over to the man and raising the weapon to his head.
I reacted on instinct.
“No. Stop.” I moved quickly to him, ignoring the pain streaking down my muscles. I pressed my palm on the weapon, forcing him to lower it. Warwick’s brows furrowed in question. I peered down at the gang member, still barely holding on to life, then back to Warwick. “He could be useful.”
“Don’t think for a moment they care about this asshole enough to trade him.” Warwick snorted. “That’s not how they work. He’s better dead.”
“No.” My voice was firm, my gaze telling Warwick this was not a question, but an order. “He can lead us to their hideout.”
“He’d kill himself before he’d tell.” Warwick shook his head, annoyance flickering on his features.
“It’s worth a shot.” I gritted my teeth. “I am not stopping until I get my bag back.” I didn’t fear for Opie and Bitzy, as I knew they would get away. They could vanish in front of my eyes, but my father’s journal was worth everything to me. To find it, I would flip over this city if I had to.
Warwick watched me for a while, probably seeing the determination on my features. He sucked in a deep breath, irritation twitching his eye.
An eerie growl-like howl cried out into the night, followed by another, his head jerking up.
“Faszom...” Warwick tensed, his head moving, trying to pinpoint the location of the noise.
“What?”
“Hyenas.”
“What?” I sputtered, whirling toward the icy shrieks, my mouth parting.
“They’re coming.” He twisted to run. “We’ve got to go.”
“Like real ones?”
“Shifters, and even more dangerous. They sniff out blood and come running to pick off the corpses left in the street, taking whatever scraps remain. They’re scavengers... deadly ones.”
“Then we can’t leave him here!” I motioned to the dying man, his breathing getting worse.
“Are you kidding me? I’m not in the mood to fight a clan.” Warwick glowered down at me. “Hyena clans have no problem picking off the living as well, especially those weakened by a fight.”
“We are not leaving him,” I snarled back. Not a question, not an option.
His jaw clamped, a nerve thrumming along it.
“Bassza meg!” Warwick spat, slapping the Glock into my palm as he stomped over toward the thief. He leaned over, lifting the bleeding man over his shoulder. “Once again, I’m picking up your rescues.”
More eerie howls, sounding just a block away, scoured over my body, shivering my bones.
“Let’s go.” Warwick spun around.
“How far are we from the base?” I was good with directions, but I hadn’t spent enough time in Savage Lands to really gauge where I was.
“Too far on foot.” He looked over at the bike. Fuel leaked onto the road, and the back tire was popped. He set the dying man down, grabbing the terrifying weapon from the back, blood crusted into the claw blades and attached it to his back.
“What is that?”
“A wolf blade.”
“Wolf blade?” I snorted, though I could see, with its many claws, how it could resemble a wolf’s talons.
“Had it designed specifically for me.” He tossed the man on his other shoulder. “Come on.” He veered around and strolled off, the man limply hanging off his shoulder.
“Where?”
“To the only place we can go.”
Chapter 19
Flames danced over my head from the hoop swing as the beautiful girl, whose features split down the middle like she was two people sewn seamlessly into one, did her party tricks with fire. A few feet away from her, hanging above in a hammock, was a naked human woman moaning loudly, her head flung back as she rode one man while a fae man entered her from behind. Her cries were so full of erotic bliss, my body heated with raw need, forcing my teeth to crunch together.
Music and the hum of talking, gambling, and fighting filled the tight passage. Nearly naked bodies pushed past me, their calls to enter their establishments directed to anyone who walked by. It was deep into the night, and Carnal Row was at the peak of its business—when indulgence was disguised by drink, and the misery of the day was buried in the depravities and sin of the night.
Not one person gave the bleeding man over Warwick’s shoulder notice, though Warwick couldn’t walk through without countless heads turning his way. Lust choked the air, widening the legs of those hungry to taste him. So many lifeless, empty eyes ignited when he passed, their bodies jolting with hunger. His aura was so virile, he brought the dead back to life.
Like you do. I shook my head, shoving the thought away as we pushed through the crowd, heading to the iniquitous dwelling on the corner, which at one point had begun to feel like a second home to me, with people I had considered friends.
Almost all the others I could have brushed away, but Rosie’s betrayal hurt too deeply, no matter if I had a right to be or not. What did I expect? From either of them? This was the Savage Lands. I also knew better when it came to the notorious legend, who had multiple women brought to him in prison. And Rosie was doing her job. I doubted anyone in the world would turn Warwick down, but knowing she was with him... logic wasn’t there.