Gemma growled and stomped toward him. Colton smiled, readying his stance, knowing the fight was one-sided.
Gemma knew it too. He’d literally grown up in a home that encouraged fist fights. She’d be dumb to think she could win against Colton.
But fury and rage were untamable beasts, and they had taken control.
Gemma went in for the attack and yanked Colton’s pistol out of his holster. His smile fell into a sneer when Gemma cocked it and aimed itat his chest. She might be a terrible shot, but at this close of range, she doubted she could miss.
“Not a good choice,querida,” Colton said, dropping his hands to his sides.
He glared at her, his dark brown eyes calculating and careful. Gemma could tell he was assessing her and whether or not she had the strength to pull the trigger. Truth was, evenshewasn’t sure.
He’d been playing nice until this point, but with every millisecond that passed, his eyes filled with such hatred that Gemma’s hands almost shook.
He would never reveal the Dissent’s plans. He’d been amongst them for nine years, since his childhood. If it came down to honoring his word to Christian or his oath to the Dissent, he’d betray Christian in an instant. The only way Gemma would stop what was coming was if she killed Colton herself, poison be damned.
This wasn’t just about revenge anymore. Her vow to avenge her sister’s murder had come with the added benefit of helping her people. Nadine might not be dead, but Gemma could still help keep Perileos from the crazed desires of the Dissent.
Gemma put her finger on the trigger.
Colton moved so fast; he was almost inhuman. Whacking her hand with his forearm, the gun flew across the sand. His open fist cracked into her cheekbone, and Gemma’s head knocked backward. She grunted, blood rolling down her cheek.
“I warned you—” Colton started to say, pulling his dagger from its sheath.
Gemma kicked him in his gut as hard as she could. Colton fell backward, the shelter collapsing beneath his weight. His knife spun through the air before clattering to the ground.
In seconds, Gemma had the blade in her grasp. She leapt, aiming the point of the dagger at Colton’s heart, but he swiped a leg, knocking hers out from underneath her. She fell hard on her back, gasping when air left her lungs.
Colton popped up onto his feet and ripped the knife from Gemma’s hand. “Stay down,” he roared.
Gemma’s hands clenched into fists. Sitting up, she aimed her punch between Colton’s legs—
A crack sounded before the wave of misery exploded across her face. Gemma toppled backward, clutching at her nose as blood gushed from her nostrils.
Compared to a fighter like Colton, she was nothing but a child still learning to walk.
Gemma withdrew her hands from her face—her fingertips were stained with purple blood. Her eyes widened in disbelief.
Colton sighed, pausing for a moment to notice the color of Gemma’s blood on the back of his hand before wiping it on his trouser leg. “Now, look what you made me do. I promised Christian I wouldn’t hurt you, and you made me break that promise.”
“Fuck you,” Gemma spat between bloody teeth.
“I suppose I wouldn’t be against it, if you were interested. We do have one more night together, just the two of us.”
With the back of her fist aiming again for his scrotum, Gemma tried to jump up. But Colton stepped on her shoulder, holding her supine against the ground. She cried out at the grinding in her joint and clawed at his boot.
“Do not test me, Gemma,” he seethed. “Vagabunda maldita. I have spent more days out here than your loitersack of a boyfriend, so I willget you back to Zion in one piece. But if you try to kill me again, there won’t be enough pieces of you left to put back together.”
Colton forced Gemma to sleep with her wrists bound and her ankles tied together the rest of the night. With all her limbs restricted, the nightmares that found her were unlike any she’d had before, even without the ghouls’ help, and by the time she awoke, she tasted blood.
He marched her through the desert of Reva at the hottest part of the day. As the scorching sun beat down mercilessly upon the unforgiving sands, each step was a torment, the searing heat seeping into Gemma’s bones.
Her broken nose throbbed with every jostle, and with one eye swollen shut from the hit to her cheekbone, the world around her blurred into a nightmarish haze of agony and despair.
The wounds on her wrists seeped again, purple blood flowing into Gemma’s gloves, the fabric clinging to her skin. She should probably be more worried about the change in color of the cells that kept her alive, but each breath was a struggle. Each step was a fight for survival. What happened in the temple was the least of her concerns. The rope Colton yanked on rendered her powerless, a captive dragged on a relentless march to an unknown fate.
She couldn’t give up. She had to see Christian again—see her sister again.
When Zion finally came into view in the distance, Gemma cried. Every muscle in her body ached; the electroprod wound the Kaizen had givenher screamed in boiling agony; and the blisters on her feet had long since opened. But she’d made it. No matter how many times her mind had begged her to give up and die, she’d fought back and won.
