The Hunt - Megan Shepherd Page 0,35

nearly full, and all the sounds made her head swirl as she wove between them to the stage, where Makayla was just finishing a dance.

“Sorry you had to cover for me,” Cora said.

Makayla put her hand over the microphone, muting it. “No worries.” Her voice dropped. “The other day it looked like Roshian decided to make you his new favorite. Glad I’m off the hook, but for your sake, I’m sorry.”

“I can handle him.”

But her thoughts were on Cassian, not Roshian, as she climbed onstage and watched him leave through the main door, speaking a few low words with Tessela. He glanced back once at her before leaving and gently pressed a hand to his heart. It makes me not want to give up either. Not just in my head, but also in my heart.

Cora cleared her throat. She started to sing a song she’d written in juvie about four walls and no sky, but changed her mind. She sang an old song instead, one Charlie used to listen to as he’d sneak off to the airstrip.

It was about soaring high and never looking down.

And the lyrics made her feel as powerful as Cassian’s words had. For the first time, she almost felt the thrill of being onstage that she’d always dreamed of. It didn’t matter that none of the Kindred guests were listening. Makayla was listening. Dane and Shoukry at the bar were listening.

And she was listening.

And for once, she believed her own words.

15

Mali

MALI’S DAILY SCHEDULE WAS always the same. Operate one of the safari trucks for the charade of hunting, ready the guests’ artificial rifles, help the other tour guides bag the catches. The only difference today was, when she showed up for work at the garage, Lucky was waiting for her.

“You are not supposed to leave backstage,” she said, confused.

“I couldn’t stand another minute cramped up in that room. I don’t know who smells worse, Pika or the animals. Dane gave permission. Said it was a good idea anyway to have someone else trained to drive.”

Mali raised an eyebrow. She had asked Dane to switch her job assignment from driver to rifle handler, once. He’d only laughed and told her she was lucky she wasn’t cleaning toilets. Apparently, Dane felt differently when it came to granting Lucky favors.

She jerked her head toward the truck. “You ride in the passenger’s side.”

They drove in silence to the far edge of the savanna with Jenny and Christopher bouncing along on the back bumper. The guest—Roshian—sat in the backseat. She glanced at him in the rearview mirror. Even uncloaked, he was always so eerily stiff. She had spent thirteen years living with the Kindred, so she knew how to be stiff too, but today her feelings were harder to mask, ever since seeing Leon a few days before, especially when he’d said, Friends, is that all? As though he had wanted something more. Not long ago, she wouldn’t have understood what he meant. But after having watched Cora and Lucky together, and Nok and Rolf, she understood.

It made her smile, just a little, deep inside.

She glanced at Lucky. He was gazing out at the plains, drumming his fingers on the side of the truck. Ever since she’d been around the other kids, she’d craved the ability to act like them—speaking so smoothly, laughing frequently—so human. She took one hand off the wheel and drummed her fingers on the side of the truck too. It felt good. Natural. But then her thoughts turned to what Leon had said about working with the Mosca. They were the ones who had taken her from Earth. She remembered being chained to a stake in a market, as the Mosca cackled and taunted her.

There were good and bad Kindred.

Good and bad humans.

But the Mosca . . . they were all rotten.

The vehicle jostled, and Christopher and Jenny clutched onto the back bumper, trying not to get jolted off. A low hiss came from the backseat.

“Focus on your driving,” Roshian ordered.

Mali put both hands back on the wheel. “Sorry,” she mumbled. Beside her, Lucky gave her a sympathetic smile.

Roshian returned to scanning the savanna. “There,” he said. “The hyena.”

Ahead, the track split. One track led to the single hill, the other to a watering hole where giraffes and antelope often clustered. Today, a skinny hyena lay panting in the shade of an acacia tree. One of its ears was a little shorter than the other.

Mali’s hands tightened on the wheel.

It was the hyena that slept in the