Land of Monsters (Savage Lands #8)

Chapter 7

“Stop petting his penis. It’s not a pet.”

Chirp!

“What? No! I would never!”

Voices tugged me from a deep sleep, something about them making me feel confused and jumbled, and I tucked in tighter, wishing for the blackness to take me back.

“You’re the one who stuck your finger in there, not me!”

Chirrrpppp!

“It was a total misunderstanding!”

No.

No. No. No. I felt the refusal groan from me, my lids still shut.

“Stop trying to fly!”

Chhhiirp!

Fuck. I knew those voices. “Please, gods, no…” I groaned, flinching as my eyes opened to the room. Morning light streamed in, my lids pinching together at the brash intrusion.

“Master Ash! Master Ash! You’re awake!”

“Please tell me I’m still high,” I grumbled, my eyes fully opening, seeing a brownie standing on my chest. Not even a foot tall, his nose dominated his heart-shaped face, thick brown hair spiking up in a mohawk, and a bushy beard plaited with ribbon.

Opie.

“Well, she definitely is.” He thumbed back to the tiny imp, her three-prong hands skimming the air like she could feel it, a chunk of mushroom stuck to the side of her head. She was half his size and looked like a bald Aye-Aye.

“Fuuuuuccckkk,” I moaned, pinching my nose and taking a deep breath.

“It looks like you did plenty of that last night,” Opie replied, wiggling his thick eyebrows—one had a sticker gem attached to it. Opie was a house brownie Brexley met in Halálház. His kind were known to clean, but Opie wasn’t like a normal brownie, nor was his best friend, Bitzy. She was a cantankerous, grouchy imp who rode in a backpack on Bitzy’s back and flipped everyone off.

Though when she was high, Bitzy turned into this happy, mellow, smiling thing.

Freaked me the fuck out.

Chirrrpppppp! She wiggled her hands around like something was there.

“Lies!” Opie huffed, his disproportionately large foot stomping on my ribs.

Chirp. Chirrrrp!

“I’m telling you it was—”

“A misunderstanding,” I finished for him. “Yes, we all know.”

“Well, it was!” He pointed his finger at me. “And you shouldn’t talk. How good could you be if they didn’t even stick around for morning bumpies?” He nodded to the empty spot next to me.

I sat up, tumbling the brownie onto my lap with a cry. A jumble of memories from the night before came back to me. I recalled almost blacking out when I was coming down Raven’s throat, our guest leaving while I cleaned her up and put her to bed.

Next to me.

“Why doesn’t anyone warn a brownie before they do that?” he grumbled, standing up and straightening his outfit—an outfit made with gold silk.

“Oh gods… tell me you didn’t?” I climbed out of bed, reaching for my boxer briefs. The cut-up fabric he weaved through his beard and mohawk looked identical to what Maestro wore last night.

“What?” Opie flounced the golden fabric he had bowed on his spiked hair, a red pleasure feather sticking out of one of them on top. He wore a deck of cards from the gambling table, fanned out in a pleated skirt, and I was pretty sure he used a whip from the party room as a strange halter top. Bitzy had more parts of the whip bound up her arms, her torso wrapped in the gold silk like a one-piece bathing suit. “You don’t like?”

I learned to never say no to this question.

“It’s great,” I groaned. “But what the hell are you doing here?” Yanking on my pants, I couldn’t stop looking at the rumpled sheets. The cum stains still streaked the duvet, the spot where her head had lain still imprinted on the pillow. Where was she? Another thought hit me, dropping anxiety into my gut. “Wait.” I froze, looking between the two sub-fae, my muscles locking up. “You. Are. Here.”

“Good on ya for spotting that one.” Opie folded his arms. “And here I thought you were the wise one of the group.”

Cccchirp!

“Right?” Opie motioned to me, answering whatever Bitzy said. “Maybe his brain leaked out of his exceptionally large dick. Not that I noticed… or saw… or touched.”

Chhhirp!

“No, I didn—”

“Is Brexley here?” I interrupted, looking around like she would jump out. If Brexley was here, it meant Warwick was too, and probably the rest of the group.

“Did you not grasp our outfits?” Opie motioned down like it was obvious. “We’re spies.”

“Spies?” I stared at his gaudy outfit. “How the hell would I get spies from that?”

“We blend in.” He pretended to be melding in with the space around him.

“Nothing about either one of you blends in.”

Chirppp! Bitzy swayed, a creepy smile on her face, blinking at me with adoration.

“How much did she have?”

Opie shrugged. “You left it open.” He nodded at the bag in the corner.

“That shit is pure!” I exclaimed, tugging on my shirt. “She’s going to be high for days.”

Chirrrrrp! Her smile widened.

“You’re complaining, mushroom man?” Opie played with his skirt, spacing the deck of cards out perfectly.

“Answer my question.”

“No, Master Fishy isn’t here.” He put his finger to his lips. “Don’t tell, but we are on a secret mission to watch over you. You don’t know we’re here.”

I stared at him.

“Oh. I guess our secret is out.”

“You think?” I huffed, shoving my feet into my boots, not even bothering to lace them up. “How long have you been following me?”

“Well, technically, since Master Scorpion told her he saw you in the train station. But really, our first day started more… well… now.”

So Scorpion did see me that day. My family could find me no matter how much I tried to hide from them.

“Wait.” I yanked on my jacket. “That was a month ago.”

“Not my fault!” Opie flung down his arms. “There are a lot of distractions from there to here. It’s her fault!” He pointed to Bitzy.

Chrrriiippppp! She flopped on the bed, doing snow angels on the quilt, giggling to herself.

I squeezed the bridge of my nose, my concern going back to the empty spot where Raven had passed out last night. Many times on this journey, Raven had been gone when I woke up, but I couldn’t get rid of the odd feeling this time.

Maybe she needed to get away from you . Away from what happened between us.

I recalled everything that transpired last night, what we did, what was said. I wanted to blame the hallucinogenic, but deep down, I knew it would be a lie.

“Stay here!” I pointed at Opie.

“But…”

“Stay, or I will tie you to that bedpost!” I ordered, grabbing my jacket.

“Not really a deterrent there, is it?”

“Opie, I swear,” I threatened, hiking for the door. I paused, pivoting and snatching up the mushroom bag. No way I trusted them alone with it.

Banging out the door, I pretended I wasn’t racing to the stairs. She was probably downstairs drinking a coffee or something, and I was panicking for nothing.

My boots hit the ground floor, my heart beating faster than normal, my head snapping around the quiet room. Last night’s celebration now looked like a crime scene, laid out in empty bottles, confetti, discarded clothing, and passed-out bodies curled over table benches and on the floor. The smells of sex, sweat, and alcohol hung heavy in the air, ghosts of the festivities of last night.

But Raven was nowhere to be found.

Unease formed in my throat, riding my shoulders, a nagging worry scraping up the back of my neck.

She left you .

What if she was already on her way home? Appalled by what happened last night, she called her family and slipped out without a goodbye? Dread fogged my mind, filling my lungs. My legs took off, not thinking past the panic consuming me.

She left you. She left you. It looped in my head as I tore out of the door, feeling out of control.

The cold air smacked my skin, billowing clouds from my mouth. The sun was hazy, denying us any real warmth from its rays.

“Raven?” I called her name, hoping she had stepped outside for air. The cramped street was vacant of the partiers and drunks from last night, but remnants of the debauchery scattered the passage. A mist of cold air blocked some of the putrid smell of vomit and piss. “Raven?”

For once, the silence unsettled me, jarring my nerves. It was like I could feel she wasn’t here, an emptiness I could sense.

She left you. She left you. She left you.

Sprinting down the lane, I had no real idea where I was running to, but desperation took hold, steering me toward something.

Every lane I hooked around sat vacant, invoking stronger emotions. They strangled my throat, pounded against my ribs, and hazed my mind.

Weaving through the streets, I came out onto the main square, condensation puffing out like smoke, my nose and ears burning with cold. My pulse pounded in my ears as I scanned the space. Only a handful of people were up, milling around, lingering close to the stands with coffee and baked goods. The plaza was trashed with alcohol bottles, clothes, streamers, and garbage. Remains of the festivities.

Scanning every figure, panic almost choked me when none of them were her.

She left you. She really left you.

It was what I wanted. What I had asked of her over and over since she walked into my life. I was going to make her leave today anyway. Yet, my heart accelerated at the thought that she did, my lungs not able to catch enough air. The sensation of wanting to tear out of my skin had me prancing in place, circling around.

In that moment, everything was stripped down to the raw truth. I didn’t want her to go. Along the way, I had grown used to her being next to me. Needed it now.

A cold sweat beaded at the back of my neck, deep panic almost turning me to stone.

Abandonment.

Their choice or not, people continuously left me. My parents, sister, Kek and Lukas, even Warwick when he went to prison for years, and Kitty when our relationship fell apart. It was all I had ever known. But Raven leaving snapped something in me, darkness flooding into my chest, drowning me like I would never see light again.

A strangled noise hissed through my teeth. I struggled with knowing what to do—and understood I’d be too late anyway.

“Raven,” I grunted out, hearing the desperation, the pleading in my tone.

A petite girl I hadn’t seen, hidden by a stocky man in line, stepped away from the stand with two coffees in her hands. My heart stopped in my chest, my eyes going over the figure, hope surging up my throat. Even bundled in clothing, hood up, and far away, I still knew every inch. Recognized her aura like it was my own. My body sprang to life, realizing she was close.

“Gods…” A heaved exhale broke from me, almost curving me over. Relief knotted emotion in my throat, mixing between grief and bliss.

She didn’t leave.

Taking in a breath, I tried to calm my heart. My mouth parted, about to call her name across the large square, but her head lifted like I had already spoken, hearing me without saying a word. This far away, I couldn’t even make out the details of her face, but I didn’t need to. I felt her looking back at me. Sensed her on my skin.

And then the moment shattered.

Squealing tires impaled the quiet morning air. Two army jeeps filled with soldiers came screeching into the square right next to the coffee stand. They leaped out, their shouts booming with authority, startling everyone around like birds.

“Mainile sus!” Hands up! Armed, the eight men quickly surrounded Raven, their weapons pointed at her, their movements twitchy and unpredictable.

Everything happened so fast.

Coffee slipped from her hands as they grabbed her, splashing out onto the cold cobblestone, steam rising around her. Two red flames flashed through the mist, the power of her beast instinctually coming to the surface, ready to attack. It vanished as fast as it came. Raven dropped to her knees before a guard, a manacle around her wrist, the goblin metal ripping the fae magic from her. Raven’s mouth started to move, though I knew her obscurer wouldn’t be nearly as powerful now. Her magic was intertwined together, not separate. They were half of what they were without the other.

Her name surged up my chest, my legs lurching forward when a guard came from behind her, his baton striking across her head, her body slipping to the ground, unconscious.

“Raven!” Terror knifed through my lungs. I felt a sensation of being out of my body as I ran for her, not caring what happened to me. I needed to protect her.

My untied shoelaces caught underfoot, a cry spitting from my mouth. My body sailed forward, my palms grating across the rough stone surface. I slammed into the ground, the bag buffering my dick, but my chin, knee and chest hit hard, my clothes and skin tearing. The impact knocked the breath out of me, paralyzing me on the ground, gasping for air.

My muscles locked up, and I watched helplessly as they lifted her, the men rushing back for the jeeps, tossing her in the back, and piling in.

“Noooooo!” The word barely croaked from me, my feet scrambling under me, my lungs spasming. I pushed myself up. My legs stumbled again, oxygen still not reaching my brain.

The jeeps revved, the wheels squealing out with the same momentum they entered.

From a distance, I heard a bird shriek.

“No!” I shouted again, shoving myself up, limping toward the vanishing brake lights, the automobiles disappearing around the corner. I tried to keep up, my knee screaming with pain, hobbling after, but I knew it was pointless. She was out of reach.

Pain shot up my leg, and I came to a stop. I bent over, gasping for air. Fury and grief roared from my gut, anger at my fuck up, for not protecting her, not getting to her fast enough. This was my fault. They came after her because of me.

“Ffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccckkk!” I bellowed, the pigeons around me flapping and fluttering away as I slammed my fist into a pole. Trees nearby creaked, limbs breaking off in my fury, raining down on the road.

She was gone.

But now, I would’ve given anything for her to be heading home like I first feared. Safe in her family’s embrace, even if I never saw her again.

My gaze flickered to the sky. I couldn’t see her, but I had no doubt Nyx had led them here. Searching for us, she must have spotted Raven in the square, because if she knew where I was, the soldiers would have raided the brothel.

Or she knows how to really hurt you. To make you feel the pain of losing someone like she did.

Though it was Warwick and Brexley who killed her girlfriend, it was me who shot Nyx to save them, leaving her for dead. She hated me too and would love to see me grieve, to tear my world apart.

My feral anger shifted into calculating, vengeful energy, my shoulders going back, determination setting my features. If anything happened to her, I would murder them all. Slowly. They thought Warwick, the Wolf, was the legend of death? They had no idea of the pain I would rain down on them.

I just had to find where she was and get her back. In my gut, I knew they wouldn’t kill her. Torture and starve? Yes. But they wanted me down on my knees. To hand myself over to them.

She was bait.

My heart thumped with resolve, every nerve zapping under my skin. I would not stop until I found her.

Along the way, Raven got under my skin, and without realizing it, I started to live again, feel again. Something I hadn’t believed could ever happen. But with the taste of her still on my tongue and the feel of her mouth around my cock, I couldn’t fight the hollow feeling from deep in my soul.

Mine.

?

“Where’s Maestro?” I barked, slamming through the door, fury rolling off my shoulders. The few workers who were up, cleaning or drinking coffee at the bar, still looked half asleep and haggard from the night before and jerked their heads to me, staring. “Where is he?” My patience was barely contained.

“Hey, hey…” Maestro entered the room, his hands motioning for me to calm down, his brow furrowed. Dressed in a paisley dressing gown, looking like an old movie star, he sashayed to me. His face was devoid of makeup, his head wrapped in a cap, showing the man underneath the performance. “My beautiful boy, what has you coming in here screaming like you want to wake the dead? Most of us are still suffering, you know.”

“Where is the base camp?” I had no time for frivolities.

“What?” Maestro’s frown deepened. “I have not had my coffee yet. So please, tell me what is going on?”

“They have her.”

“Have who?” His thin eyebrows puckered.

My mouth opened to utter her name and stopped. He already thought she reminded him of someone, her true identity barely a subtle hint away. Her name would only confirm who she was. And I couldn’t have that. I needed this to stay quiet. Sonya and Lazar couldn’t find out who they really had in their grasp. I couldn’t give them that leverage—the power to bring the Unified Nations to their knees.

Getting her was my priority.

“My girl.” I cleared my throat, the sentiment feeling odd coming off my lips. I had never called anyone that before. Ever.

“What? Who took her?” He exploded with shock, no longer speaking quietly. “What happened?”

“Sonya’s men.” They certainly were no longer Lazar’s men. He was a facade. An actor playing a part with no power to speak of anymore.

“The queen’s men?” He placed a hand on his chest. “I-I don’t understand.”

I couldn’t stand still, resentful for every minute I wasted. “I don’t have time to explain,” I grunted. “I need to know exactly where they are based. Where would they take prisoners?”

“Prisoners?!” He gasped. “Why do you think I would know?”

My teeth ground together, my hands balling up at my sides. Maestro gulped, taking in my reaction, feeling the rage billowing off me.

“Yes, okay.” His shoulders dropped, and his hand stayed clutching the fabric near his throat like it was a protective barrier. “A lot of soldiers come here.” He looked around as if one would burst in the room. “We hear a lot of things.”

“I know.” When in doubt, always go to a brothel for information. They were the nuclei of everything going on. Men had trouble keeping their mouths closed when someone was milking them dry. They loved to brag, to have some secret which made them more astute. Bigger than their small dick size.

“I know the main base is in Bran.” He lowered his voice. “Sonya has taken over the castle there.”

The place of legends and horror had also been a fae holdout when humans hunted us, causing us to flee to the Otherworld. The magic was so strong even humans could feel the energy in the air. Though they would conjure vampires and bats, while the real monsters were right in front of them, hiding under beautiful faces with powers to glamour and seduce.

Sonya using it as her hub was almost cliché. The blood-sucking predator taking shelter in a make-believe vampire’s lair.

“How do I get in?” The place would be guarded and impossible to break into—Sonya would make sure of it.

“I don’t know.”

A noise gurgled up my throat.

“I don’t!” Maestro held up his hands. “I swear.” Another disapproving sound vibrated my vocals. “But I know someone who might.”

“Get them here now.”

“That’s impossible!”

“I. Don’t. Care.” I never sounded more like Warwick in my life, even more so when it had to do with Brexley.

“Give me the day,” Maestro stated with more firmness. “I will do everything I can to get him here by tonight. He’s not an easy man to pin down.”

I could get supplies and come up with a plan until this man arrived.

“Fine,” I rumbled in a deep grunt. “ Tonight .”

“So demanding …” Maestro shivered with desire, coyness dancing in his eyes. “She’s a lucky girl.”

His eyes felt as if they could see right through me, seeing how I felt—that the world would burn to the ground if I didn’t get her back.

Huffing, I started to move around him, heading for the stairs.

“Oh, and whatever you did with Mihai…”

“Who?”

“The man you invited into your room last night.” Maestro’s eyebrow lifted sultrily.

Of course he would know everything that went on here. Nothing was private between the “madam” and what happened inside the brothel walls.

“He’s become a patron now.” Maestro played with the tie on his robe. “He’s a very wealthy man, and I’ve been trying to convince him to invest in my little business here for a long time now. He always said no.” His lips curved. “Whatever you did… he changed his mind. So thank you. You have my complete loyalty.” It meant a lot coming from the proprietor of a brothel. If you had their loyalty, you were protected, and if anyone did anything to you, like rob or hurt you, they would find themselves at the bottom of a river.

“Good.” I bowed my head. “Then get your informer here by nightfall,” I ordered and ran up the stairs.

My stomach squeezed when I reached 306, not knowing what I’d find behind the door.

Were they still there, or did they leave too?

Walking through, my gaze landed on Bitzy curled up on the pillow, her little snores making me instantly let out a breath of relief. Then my attention drifted to the other pillow.

Opie was naked, tied to the bedpost by the straps of the whip, his bare butt facing me, a pleasure feather between his toes.

“What the…” I slammed the door behind me and Opie’s head jerked over his shoulder, his cheeks instantly turning bright red.

“It’s not what it looks like…”