back before growling and rearing onto its hind paws. I scaled the beast I’d killed and flung myself, spear first, at Remo’s foe. I shut my eyes right before impact, but felt the blades sink into hide, heard the squelch of taut flesh, tasted the spray of hot blood on my face. Hands clamped around my ankles and dragged me back so fast the grains of sand rug-burned my chin. Since I was still gripping my weapon, the spear slipped wetly out of the beast’s belly right before disintegrating and ribboning back into my palm. I tucked my arms in just as the ginormous feline collapsed, a hairsbreadth away from my head.
Heart rattling, I thought: Three down, three down, three down.
When I rolled onto my back, Remo crawled up my body, his palms cupping my cheeks. “Trifecta, are you okay?” His voice was as shrill with nerves as his gaze, which whipped over me, seeking wounds.
I inhaled deeply and nodded. Remo gently grabbed my hands and tugged me into a sitting position. A streak of blood on his temple reminded me of his lacerated back. “Turn. Let me see your back.”
“My back’s fine.”
“It didn’t look fine.”
Inhuman yelps followed by human shouts had both our attention snapping to a spot beyond Remo’s shoulder. When the ground shook, I inferred that another beast had fallen.
Remo stood, heaving me up. And then he hugged me to him, and for a brief moment, the gore and jungle faded away. “Fuck, you saved my life.”
Not really. I’d saved him from another mud-bath.
I nestled my face against his collarbone, feeling his heart kick against my cheek. It matched the tempo of the one presently lodged inside my throat.
Suddenly, I pressed away and my neck gyrated every which way. “Giya? Where did she go?”
He looked around, too. “I-I don’t know. I was watching you.” He rammed his hand through his wild red locks. “I’m sorry; I should’ve kept an eye on her.”
“We have to find her. I have to find her.”
He nodded just as an aloe thicket shivered.
“Giya?” I yelled.
Please let it not be another tigri. I’m not ready for another one.
Remo parted the leathery fronds.
What lay beyond made me wish it had been another furred behemoth.
39
Bite
“You fucking psychopath, let the girl go!” Remo growled.
Kingston had my cousin pinned to his front, one arm banded around her chest and both biceps, and the other hooked around her neck. The crimson apple gleamed like a mined heart inside his white-knuckled fist.
He pressed the fruit against Giya’s lips, which were thankfully wedged so firmly they formed a line on her wan face. She shook her head from side to side and writhed. She even stomped down on Kingston’s foot. He hurled curse words at her and lifted her a little higher, so that she was off balance, then whispered something in her ear that made her body still and her eyes brighten with fear.
“It’s me you want!” My skin felt as though it had shrunk and stiffened, compressing my muscles like my discarded jumpsuit. “Let her go and take me.”
“Show me your hands.”
I raised both in the air. Indubitably, Kingston had seen my tattoo, but since he didn’t fear it, I surmised he thought I couldn’t access the confiscated dust.
“Turn.” His slitted brown eyes followed my slow twirl.
“I have no weapon.”
“You want Giya; you come to me.”
Remo gripped my arm as I inched toward my uncle.
“You come alone, or I shove this apple down your cousin’s lovely throat.” When he nosed her neck, my fury turned into a raging ball of fire. Had I been able to access my kalini, all that would’ve been left of him would be cinders.
“Let me go, Remo,” I murmured.
His fingers tightened on me. “Trifecta, no.”
I glanced at him over my shoulder. “I can do this . . .”
His breathing had turned shallow and fast, fluttering his birthmark. Reluctantly, he freed me, and I walked toward them.
Kingston jutted his chin toward Remo. “Back up, Little Dog.”
Remo vibrated with such rage that the leaves of the panem over his head frisked with it. He stood his ground, so Kingston backed up while keeping my cousin in a chokehold. I strode along with them, keeping my gaze on Giya’s, trying to soothe her panic.
When we reached the beach, he said, “Closer, Amara.”
I was trying to understand his strategy, which seemed hasty and ill-thought-out. To grab me, he’d have to release her, and the moment he let her go, he’d lose his advantage. Still, I approached. When