I grinned.
Then headbutted himhard.
He gasped and bucked, knees jabbing up.
I took one to the ribs.
Fuck!
I caught his next punch mid-air, twisted his arm until it cracked, and then slammed my palm into his throat.
He choked and spat blood, but I didn’t let him recover.
My elbow came down on his collarbone—once, twice—until I heard the pop. Then I grabbed a jagged shard of bamboo from the ground and buried it in his thigh.
He screamed.
Too loud.
I grabbed his head.
Slammed it into the stalk.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
He slumped over.
Not dead.
But done.
A new body to feed my bamboo forest.
Sound erupted behind me.
I turned.
There we go.
The twins were a storm of motion.
Aki’s garrote wire flashed in the moonlight, whipping around one man’s throat. His opponent struggled, only for Yuki to crash a knee into his ribs.
The sound was wet, final.
And then, Yuki returned to fighting his man.
The final guy charged Yuki with a wild punch—bad mistake. Yuki dodged, hooked his leg around the guy’s ankle, and spun him into Aki’s waiting elbow. The man crumpled but Aki didn’t stop—hemounted, fists raining down, rhythmic and brutal, until the forest echoed with the wet thuds of knuckles breaking bone.
I watched, chest heaving and a huge smile on my face.
Father, you gifted me with a circle of my own dead men. This morning. . .I will gift you with fire.
Chapter eighteen
