I breathe out and curl into myself with relief.
I almost kissed someone I’d like to kill.
Inside my head, I scream.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
I’m still reeling from my near kiss with a murderer when Braun returns. The enormous guy has Titus’s Pandora at his heel. Between the grizzly’s jaws is something that looks like a spotted dog. Titus claps his hands and says we’ll eat like kings, that this doesn’t look half bad. I flinch and look away. No matter how long this race wears on, I’ll never get used to seeing my food whole. When I get home, I may never eat meat again. Vegetarian or bust.
After the guys have cleaned and cooked the animal, they offer Titus and me a generous portion. I take it, close my eyes, and chew as quickly as I can. The meal tastes bland and tough, and has the distinct flavor only burned meat does. When I’m done eating as much as I can force down, I offer a large piece to Madox. My fox looks me over like he’s making sure I’m satisfied, then takes the food from my hand and chows down.
“I can’t believe you do that,” Titus sneers. “Feed that thing.”
“They get hungry, just like us,” I answer, keeping my eyes on Madox.
“But they’re built to survive without it.”
“How do you know?”
“Look at my bear,” he says. “It’s the same size it was weeks ago. It hasn’t lost an ounce. Me, on the other hand, I’m fading in the wind.”
Glancing at Titus’s swollen muscles and large frame, I find it hard to believe he’s lost weight. But his face does appear thinner than it did in the jungle. And my waist and hips have never been this narrow. Inspecting Madox closer, I notice he does seem to be the same size. But when I watch him eating the meat, I know he’s happy.
“They enjoy eating, otherwise your bear wouldn’t have eaten that rabbit in the jungle.”
Titus laughs and points a finger at me. “See, you even know what kind of animal it was. You remember that moment.”
Rolling my eyes, I stand up. I’m not sure if what I’m about to do is just to piss Titus off, but once I’ve decided I’m doing it, I can’t stop. Grabbing a hunk of meat off the cooked dog — and nearly gagging — I move toward the Pandoras and provide them each a piece. Most turn away and refuse to eat it. But that’s fine, because what I’m doing is more of a statement. These creatures help us, and we need to treat them with respect. I give Braun a piece and he passes it to his pig, all while keeping an eye on Titus.
Finally, I get to AK-7. The bear sits on the ground with his paws in the sand. I step closer to him, and my heart pounds. Out of all the Pandoras, he’s the one I’m most afraid of. This is Titus’s animal, and there’s no telling what it’s been trained to do. I bring my hand up and the bear recoils like I’m going to hit him. When I see him pull back, my chest aches. I kneel down in front of the bear and Madox whines behind me.
“Here,” I say, holding the meat out.
“Get away from my Pandora, Tella,” Titus says slowly, evenly. “You can play nice with the other ones, but that there’s mine.”
The bear watches Titus speaking over my shoulder, his eyes shifting back and forth between the two of us. I drop the meat between his legs and back away. The creature glances down at the food, then up at me with something that looks like disbelief. But that can’t be.
Can it?
“Don’t you eat that, AK-7. You hunt for yourself if you’re hungry,” Titus says.
I spin around and square my shoulders. “Let him eat if he wants to. God, Titus. For once, just be a human being and have some compassion.”
Titus’s eyes widen like he’s surprised I just said that. But then his face changes, darkens. He jumps to his feet and races forward. I cower, expecting him to strike me. But he flies past and slaps the piece of meat from the bear’s paw.
“I told you, no,” Titus yells in the Pandora’s face.
All my anger toward him boils over. Before I can think, I shove Titus as hard as I can. He stumbles, trips over the bear’s leg, and hits the ground. From across the fire, I see Braun stand up. The other guys stay put, waiting to see what happens.
“Don’t scream at him,” I yell. “Scream at me if you’re so pissed.” I hit my chest. “Scream at me.”
Titus pulls himself up and kicks his bear’s leg out of the way. The bear scoots backward and lowers his head.
I ready myself for a fight, but Titus only smiles. “See what I mean?” he roars. “That’s the fire I’ve been talking about!” In a heartbeat, he crosses the distance between us and slams his mouth over mine. I place my palms against his chest and push like I did before, back in the jungle. But this time, he doesn’t budge. His tongue slides across my lips, and my scream comes out muffled. Grabbing at my back and waist, he tugs me closer until I feel him press against my pelvis. Because I can’t shove him away, I come up with another plan. I’m going to bite his tongue off. I feel the wet slick of it against my mouth, and this time, I open my lips to grant it access.
Titus groans.
“The device,” someone calls out. “The device is blinking.”
Titus pulls away from me, breathing hard. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, completely unaware of how close he just came to losing his tongue. A smile crawls across his face, and I try with everything I have to pretend it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. To not show my horror.
To not give away that I will flee. Tonight.
The guy strides to our side of the campsite, holding his device up as evidence. When I look away from Titus, I’m surprised to find Braun nearby, shades of fury stretched across his face. His pig is at his side, grunting and raising its nose into the air.
Was he about to help me again? I wonder.
There’s something in Braun’s eyes that tells me he isn’t like the rest. Already, he’s done two things to aid me: He held me as Titus killed Nick, and he interrupted Titus’s kiss. I wonder what else he’s willing to do.
I startle when I see a second pig nearby. It’s identical to Braun’s, but this one’s eyes are emerald green. If Braun wasn’t about to help me, Madox sure as hell was. I almost laugh seeing my fox as a pig. Almost.
Titus digs his device out of his pocket and places it into his ear. The rest of the guys follow suit.
“Give me mine,” I say.
Titus pushes the red button and listens.
“Give me my device,” I repeat, louder.
He holds his hand up and makes a face like I’m annoying. But he has no idea how annoying I’ll become if I don’t get that device. I stop bugging him when I notice the way Titus’s face changes. The way his eyes widen and his mouth goes slack.
“What is it?” I ask. “What’s she saying?”
The other four guys come to join Titus, Braun, and me. They eye the stolen Pandoras. And they eye Madox. A clap of fear strikes through me, and I move to stand in front of my fox/pig.
The guy with long legs and big shoulders pulls out his switchblade and thumbs the knife into place.
“Now hold on,” Titus says. “We’re going to do this real calm like.”
But there’s nothing calm about the way Long Legs creeps toward the Pandoras. And now the guys behind him are pulling out their own knives.
“What’s happening, Titus?” I reach for my knife, which of course isn’t there. “What are they doing?”
“I said, wait,” Titus barks.
The guys still don’t listen. Long Legs lets out this strangled cry and races toward the Pandoras. He moves quickly, so quickly, madness dancing on his face in the fire’s glow. In two calculated movements, he pulls his knife into the air, then drives it into the belly of a Pandora.