Hawk - James Patterson Page 0,16

deer or wild pigs. “My name is Ki-Iseul. It was my brother, Prince Chul-Gun, who died yesterday. You will tell us what you know.” Her voice was icy and a bit raw, as if she had been crying.

“I don’t know anything,” I said firmly. “I didn’t see it.”

“Grab her!” ordered Ki-Iseul.

CHAPTER 13

I jumped up, but from a still, standing position managed to get only about two meters high. Hands clamped onto my ankles, dragging me down to the waiting group. When I landed, many arms grabbed me. I twisted free, punching, kicking, knocking heads together, but as soon as I downed one, two more would take his place. Someone cracked my head with the butt of her pistol and I saw stars but didn’t fall over.

At eight against one, it took them more than five minutes to subdue me, twisting my arms behind my back, grabbing my feet so I couldn’t move. Then Ki-Iseul leaned over me with her knife.

“Tell me what happened yesterday,” she said in a voice like razor blades.

“I didn’t see anything!” I insisted. “Gunfights happen every day here—how was I supposed to know which one was extra special?”

We both realized my mistake at the same time. Ki-Iseul’s brown eyes narrowed, and her lips pressed into a line so tight that they lost color. “I never said it was a gunfight,” she said.

Crap. Crappity crap-crap. I forced myself to shrug, or shrug as much as I could, considering there were seven people holding me down. “I was guessing,” I said. “There’s lots of gunfights—it’s an easy way to die.”

I could see her weighing my words. This would be a perfect time for the Voxvoce to strike—the Chungs were probably as susceptible to it as most people. Come on, McCallum! I thought. Show your paranoia!

Someone really tall moved in back of the thugs holding me. It was the guy from earlier, the one whose butt I’d kicked when he was on my corner. Now he looked at me and gave me a mean, snide smile.

“She’s the Pater prince’s girlfriend,” he offered, and I immediately tried to break free again, yanking my arms and legs.

Ki-Iseul looked at me with loathing.

“I’m not anyone’s girlfriend!” I spat, silently promising myself that I would kill that guy as soon as I could.

“Let’s let the Paters know that we will surely avenge my brother,” the princess said. She nodded to one of the Chung soldiers. “Mark her!”

Two people held my head while I bucked as hard as I could. Someone cracked me again on my temple and I went limp, dazed and nauseated with pain. My limbs were heavy and refused to do what I ordered. I was powerless to stop them, and one of them quickly carved a C into my cheek with her knife. My skin opened under the blade, a sharp, bright pain tracing the edge of my jaw. Warm, sticky blood flowed out over my cheek to run down and drip off my neck.

“Now what, my lady?” asked one of the goons.

“She doesn’t want to talk,” Ki-Iseul said. “So cut out her vocal cords. She doesn’t need them.”

It hit me that I really was going to die. I was already losing a ton of blood from the deep cut on my cheek—I’d never survive losing my vocal cords. I let myself go completely limp while my brain went into hyperdrive. I really might die here. The lab rats wouldn’t know what had happened to me. If my stupid parents ever, ever came back, they wouldn’t find me. They’d never find me. It would serve them right.

My cheek stung horribly and felt sticky. I smelled the sharp, coppery scent of my blood, heard it dripping to the street. Get yourself out of this, goddamnit, my brain commanded. Feeling me go limp, their hands loosened ever so slightly on my arms and legs. The cold, sharp tip of a knife pressed against my throat—they really were going to cut out my vocal cords. Time for some desperation.

With one last-ditch effort, I gave an almighty heave, snapping my feet downward and my arms in. They were taken by surprise and I got myself mostly loose. In the next second, I unfolded my wings from beneath my poncho—not all the way—I was hemmed in, couldn’t extend them fully.

There were gasps. Tentative hands reached out to touch my feathers.

“You’re a freak!” one of the henchmen exclaimed.

“You’re the one with the forehead horns,” I pointed out, then crouched down and jumped. Hands grabbed my feet