“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 had racked up such high tabs they would be forever indebted to Istvan. Probably exactly what he wanted.
“You can’t simply take something if you can’t pay or trade for it.” The man’s voice went up a little higher, his glower going to where I was already sipping at the coffee. “What world have you come from, girl? Things aren’t free.”
“I got it.” A corded arm reached over my shoulder and dropped a bill into the vendor’s hand. I wrenched my head to look behind me.
A handsome guy smiled at me, making me swallow. Dressed in dark cargo pants and a T-shirt, the guy was about six foot and fit, with caramel-colored hair and bright green eyes. One eye was black and blue, as if he had recently been in a fight. Clean-shaven with a sharp jaw with a dimple in it, he reminded me of some superhero I had seen in old American movies.
“Tha-thank you.” I cleared my throat, hating the shame and entitlement clinging to my skin. “I’ll pay you back.” I stepped back.
“It’s no problem.” He grinned again, showing off his perfect teeth, moving in beside me. “I’ll take one too, Jan.”
The guy behind the stand fixed another coffee, handing it over with a frown.
“Don’t mind him.” The cute guy nodded at Jan. “He’s been cranky for the last forty years.”
Jan snarled at him, only making the cute guy laugh. He flicked his chin in a motion for me to walk with him.
“He should have given you a break knowing who you are.”
“You mean niece of the Kaptain? Nepotism precedes me, huh?”
He laughed, the sound deep and light at the same time.
“That,”—he shrugged—“and the fact you are new and could probably kick his ass in three seconds.”
My brows lifted as I sipped the coffee. “And how do you know that?”
“Because.” The guy stopped in the doorway of one of the training rooms, grinning down at me, his finger touching his discolored eye. “You did this.”
The coffee cup paused at my mouth.
“I was on the team to retrieve you. You have a serious right hook; got me in the gut as well.”
I blinked, not sure how to respond. “I’m sorry?”
“No, you’re not.” He chuckled like we had been friends forever. “Nor should you be. I was seriously impressed.”
“Thanks.” My lids lowered, still unsure how to react. I respected he held no ill will or resentment, nor strangely did I for him.
“I’m Lukas, by the way, but most call me Luk.” He reached his hand out to me.
“Brexley—” I stopped myself, shifting quickly. “But call me X.”
“X.” He shook my hand with a playful wink. “Was actually hoping I’d run into you... I think my ego needs a rematch.” He flicked his head to the mats. “You game?”
A smile curved on my mouth. It was the one place, no matter what was going on or where I was, I felt comfortable. At home.
It might be odd to some, but fighting was something I knew and could control. And a bonus, this time it wasn’t to the death.
“Absolutely.” I sucked down more of my caffeine, hoping it would kick in. I still wasn’t feeling my best, my energy low, but I wouldn’t turn down a fun warm-up match.
Following him into the room, I saw half was covered with mats. The other half held items like old car tires, metal poles, used cannonballs, and ropes turned into workout equipment. Nothing like the nice workout room back at HDF with machine arm presses, hand weights, and stationary bikes. This felt more real, true to the actual fights on the streets.
Raw and dirty.
Setting my cup on the floor next to the wall, I peeled off the black sweatshirt I was given to wear, leaving me in my sports bra, faded black cargo pants, and black boots.
“Trying to knock me off my game?” He stepped onto the mat, his eyes going down to my breasts. “Think tits will trip me up?”
“Not my tits.” I stepped opposite him. I had never been voluptuous by any standards, but after Halálház, my figure had become nothing more than skin and bones, my thin skin showing every rib. I was slowly putting weight back on, but I was still far from being the curvy girl I saw working out on the other side of the room.
“You sure you want to do this?” I stepped back in a defensive position, both of us starting to circle and gauge each other. He remembered how I fought, but I had no memory of his moves. “Your ego is already pretty fragile. Hate to make you cry in the corner for your mommy.”
He snorted. “I haven’t cried for my mommy since I was eight when she walked out on my father and me and became the prime minister’s whore.”
Leon’s young wife had died only a few years into their marriage, and all I knew was he took a lover very soon after. That woman was Lukas’s mom? Shock stilled me with his blunt and honest revelation, my guard going down for a second.
Luk pounced on the opportunity, his fist jabbing for my stomach. Curving, I barely got out of the way, his knuckles clipping my hipbone as I twisted. Flinching from the hit, I instantly threw up my defenses, chastising myself for a stupid rookie mistake. My mind and body seemed to be groggy and slow still.
As we rounded each other, I couldn’t help but ask, “That true?”
His lips pinched in a bitter smile; his silence made me believe it was.
“And you’re here?” I didn’t know if I was really asking a question. “On the side that wants to take Prime Minister Leon down?”
“Even more so.” He swiped out for me. I dodged it, but barely. Frustration creased my forehead. I fought in Halálház when I was sleep-deprived, starved, beaten, and tortured, and still moved faster than I was this morning. My comrades at HDF used to tease I was like a ghost. I moved so fast they could barely see me.
This morning I resembled a sloth. The sensation of heaviness I felt yesterday, of being sucked of energy, still hung over me.
“The first thing I did when my dad died was join Povstat.” He sidestepped my attack. “When we do take them down, I want to look in Sonya’s eyes, for her to know her son was part of the group who ended them.”
He lunged for me; this time, I could tell talking time was over.
Ducking, my leg swung out, kicking at his knee as I socked him in the kidney. His large body stumbled back, but he quickly leaped for me, and I tripped him. As he fell over me, I grasped his arms. Using the momentum, I flipped him over on his back with a loud thud, his breath catching. Scrambling, it only took him a moment to leap up. He crouched low and barreled into me, his arm looping around my waist, slamming my spine onto the mat. Straddling me, he pinned my arms to the mat. The guy was fit and six inches taller than me, but I had fought against a legend and killed three in the Games. How had he taken me down so easily?