“It’s standard military combatives.”
“Whatever it’s called, you wouldn’t last five minutes in a street fight.”
Lucky jerked his chin. “Is that right?”
“Hey.” Cora shoved herself between them. “Leon’s right. We were distracted from solving the maze, and right now we don’t need distractions.” She fingered the shell in her dress pocket. “There aren’t many days left before the deadline.”
“If we make it to the deadline without starving.” Leon turned to face her, giving her a pointed look. “Thought it was funny, eh? Where’d you put all the food, sweetheart?”
Cora frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“This morning. All the trays in the diner were empty. Except for the one you always take, last one on the left—yours had bloody extra. A prank’s a prank, sweetheart, but you don’t mess with a guy’s food.”
An uneasy feeling spread up her back. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You were the only one awake early. And the Kindred sure as hell didn’t do it—they’re trying to fatten us up.”
Something wasn’t right. She gave Lucky an uneasy glance.
He popped the knuckles on his left hand. “If she says she didn’t do it, then she didn’t.”
He started for town, but Leon stopped him with a massive hand to his chest. “Hang on, brother. You calling me a liar?”
Lucky rubbed his temples. “You want to fight over one meal?”
“A Maori defends his honor,” Leon growled. “And his right to breakfast.” He straightened, flexing his neck. “Or are you scared?”
Lucky gave a brittle laugh. “I’m not scared of you.”
“You should be, given what I’ve seen.”
They had forgotten she was even standing there. What would she do, if a fight really did break out? This wasn’t Bay Pines, where she could stand back and wait for a guard to come.
“Come on.” She tugged on Lucky’s arm, feeling suddenly exhausted again. “Just leave it.”
He didn’t even seem to hear her as he shook her off, shoving his finger in Leon’s face. “One sparring match. No punches to the face. No knees to the groin. Nothing dirty.”
“You’re on.”
Pain splintered through her head. “You’re seriously going to fight each other?”
“Hell yes,” Leon said. “Last one standing gets the other’s lunch and dinner.”
Lucky jerked his head in a nod.
Cora stomped off to the shade. Idiots. In the circle, Lucky assumed a rigid boxing stance. Leon smirked and lunged forward, throwing a punch toward his shoulder. Lucky dodged it easily and they danced around each other, more posturing than punches.
Cora rubbed her eyes. “This is stupid. We should keep working on the maze.”
“Worried I’ll ruin your boyfriend’s face? If I readjust his nose, give him a few black eyes, he might even look as pretty as that Caretaker. I bet you don’t mind looking at him, eh?”
Lucky lunged forward. He clipped Leon in the jaw, hard. Blood splattered the sand.
Leon jerked back, wiping his nose. “You said none to the face, bro.”
“Rules have changed.”
Leon growled. Cora shrieked as Leon threw a punch that cracked something. There was a flash of blood at Lucky’s nose, but he twisted away and threw another punch. They were better matched than Cora had thought. Leon was big, but he was slow. He yanked his button-down shirt over his head and kicked it away. The tattoos on his face continued down his chest, hugging his right shoulder and rib cage.
The sand grated under Cora’s feet. The Kindred wouldn’t let the boys hurt each other—would they? She glanced at the nearest black window, but it only reflected the fear in her face. Why was the Caretaker letting this happen?
Did they want this to happen, so they could study it?
Leon threw a punch that nearly knocked Lucky onto the sand. The bet was forgotten. They paced around each other like animals, and then Lucky lurched. He managed to get an arm around Leon’s neck, pinning him so that his face turned red, but Leon slammed him back to the ground. He grabbed a fistful of Lucky’s hair.
“Maybe those traders are on to something, eh? Maybe I’ll rip that ear off your head, make my own bloody tea—”
He grabbed the flap of Lucky’s ear. One jerk would be all it would take. Cora felt a wild desire flare out of nowhere for Lucky to fight back; to put Leon in his place, to tear flesh and spurt blood—but just as fast it was gone, and she was horrified by her thoughts. She was going as crazy as them. She lurched forward, but time seemed to have slowed. It was all happening too fast, sliding and slipping out of control.
Lucky spit in his face. “You do, and I’ll skin that tattoo off your—”
“Stop it!” Cora slammed into Leon. The force of her weight jerked him back long enough for Lucky to scramble to his feet. He breathed hard. Blood dripped from his nose. Leon was on his feet in a second.
Danger crackled in the air.
“This isn’t a game!” Cora yelled. “Trying to rip ears off? Skinning each other? Have you both gone insane?” Her heart beat unsteadily, as out of control as the fight.
This is so, so wrong.
She turned away sharply and rested one hand on the ruined wall.
“Cora—” Lucky started, but she spun around.
“No. Don’t bother explaining. They’ve put us here like we’re animals, and you’re only proving them right. Who do you think messed with the food? Them. The Kindred. I don’t know why—probably to poke and prod us into fighting so they can study how we interact. You’re giving them one hell of a research thesis.” She left them alone in the desert.
“Wait!” Lucky called.
She didn’t look back. Her head throbbed.
Rip that ear off your head . . .
Skin that tattoo off your face . . .
There’d been tension between them from the start. They were all so on edge, so strung out by headaches and from distances that didn’t match up. This place was twisting them, and it was twisting her. For a second, she’d almost been rooting for Lucky to hurt Leon. . . .
She ran back to the house, jogging up the stairs. For weeks the five of them had collected tokens in a pillowcase in her room. They had one hundred seventy-six, last time she counted. Not enough for the croquet set, but there was a kite for one hundred fifty that she could disassemble into a stake. She’d be ready, if the Warden came, or if another fight broke out between the captives. It was time for some law. If the others couldn’t stay civil, she’d be the law herself.