Lucky picked up his leather jacket, shaking out the sand a little too hard. “You’re supposed to be mapping the alpine areas, Leon.”
Leon jumped down from the wall and sauntered toward them. “I was, and it’s bloody freezing. I thought, What better place to warm up than a desert? And being the thoughtful guy I am, I came to help you two with the maze.” He smirked. “But it seems escape isn’t the first thing on your mind.”
Cora looked away. “He was teaching me to spar.”
“That what they’re calling it these days? Hell, sweetheart, I can show you a thing or two about sparring, if you want.”
“Back off,” Lucky said.
Leon gave a deep laugh. “Ease up, brother. She’s not my type. She reminds me of my sister.” He ran a hand over his face. “I’ve been watching the last ten minutes, and you fight like you’ve a stick up your ass.”
“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.