Scarlet (The Lunar Chronicles #2) - Marissa Meyer Page 0,61

she shrieked. “Wolf! WOLF!”

As a last burst of bubbles rose up from Ran’s mouth, Scarlet stepped back, let out a breath, and pulled the trigger again.

Wolf hissed and fell onto his side. He clasped his hand over his left arm, where blood was already seeping into the cloth of his sleeve. But it wasn’t a deep wound. The bullet had barely grazed him.

He blinked up at Scarlet. “Did you just shoot me?”

“You didn’t leave me much choice.” With ringing ears, Scarlet fell to her knees and heaved Ran up by his shoulders, laying him back down at an awkward angle on the shore. He rolled onto his side, left eye already swelling shut and watered-down blood dripping down his nose and jaw. With a rattling cough, more blood and water spilled out of his mouth, puddling onto the sand.

Releasing a strangled breath, Scarlet glanced back up at Wolf. He hadn’t moved, but his expression had shed the maniacal anger for something akin to admiration.

“When you greeted me with a gun on your doorstep,” he said, “it’s nice to know you meant it.”

Scarlet scowled at him. “Honestly, Wolf. What are you thinking? He could tell us something. He could help get my grandma back!”

His half smile softened, and for a moment he looked sorry. For her. “He won’t talk.”

“How do you know?”

“I know.”

“That’s not a good enough answer!”

“Watch your gun.”

“Wha—” She dropped her gaze to the shore beside her, just in time to see Ran wrap his fingers around the gun’s handle. She grasped the barrel and snatched it away from him.

An exhausted chuckle brought more bloodied spittle to Ran’s lips. “I will kill you one day, brother. If Jael doesn’t first.”

“Stop provoking him!” Scarlet yelled. Climbing to her feet, out of Ran’s reach, she reset the safety and shoved the gun back into the waist of her jeans. “You’re not exactly in any position to be making threats right now, anyway.”

Ran said nothing. His eyes had closed, his lips left hanging open with a smear of blood on his cheek, taking in slow, rattling breaths.

Disgusted, she turned back to Wolf, watching as he peeled his hand away from his wound and stared with surprise at the blood coating his palm. He leaned over on his elbow and swished his hand around in the water to get the stain off.

With a sigh, she scrambled to her forgotten bag and pulled out a small first-aid kit. Wolf didn’t argue as she ripped open the tear in his sleeve caused by the bullet and took over the job of washing and bandaging the wound. The bullet had just grazed his bicep.

“I’m sorry I shot you,” she said, “but you were going to kill him.”

“I still might,” Wolf said, watching her hands.

She shook her head, taping off the bandage. “He’s not your real brother, is he? That’s just a gang thing, isn’t it?”

Wolf grunted. Said nothing.

“Wolf?”

“I never said we got along.”

Scarlet peered up at the wild contempt filling Wolf’s face. His green eyes were burning, staring at Ran’s prone body behind her.

“Good.”

The ferocity in her voice startled away some of his hatred and Wolf turned his attention back to her.

“You must know his weaknesses. You’ll know how best to question him.”

That sympathetic look again. “We’re trained to withstand questioning. He won’t help us.”

“But he already gave us some information.” Packing up the remains of the kit, she tossed it toward her bag. It missed the opening and slid down to the ground. “He obviously knew something when I asked about my grandma. And then this assignment that was canceled—what’s that about? Does it have something to do with her?”

Wolf shook his head, but she detected a clouding in his eyes. “He told us what he wanted us—me—to know. Or to believe. I wouldn’t put stock in any of it.”

“How can you be sure?”

His fingers started up again—clench, release, clench. “I know Ran. He would do anything to improve his standing. By tracking me down and forcing me to return—or even showing proof that he’d fought me and won—he hoped to do just that. As for the assignment I’d been a part of when I left … they wouldn’t cancel it. It was too important to them.”

“What about my grandmother?”

He shook off a troubled frown. “Right. We should keep moving.” He tested the strength in his injured arm before using it to push himself to his feet. The fire had burned down to smoldering coals and soon he had stamped them out, ignoring the duck