“You’ll what?” Cho snapped. Scoffing, she returned her attention to the crowd. “See? Nadine’s not protecting us. She’s protecting her. Give her the chance, and she’ll burn the whole camp down to save her precious sister.”
Nadine’s chin lifted, but Christian caught the tremor in her jaw. “If any of you think for a second I’d sacrifice Perileos for one person, then you’ve forgotten everything I’ve done to keep you breathing down here.”
Cho grinned widely in that vicious way Christian knew too well. She’d found her opening. Christian’s fists clenched, already knowing Cho’s next move.
“Then prove it,” Cho snapped at Nadine. “Hand her over. Show us where your real loyalty lies.”
The mutters surged into shouts again. The word “weapon” rose like smoke above the crowd. Behind him, Gemma’s breath was ragged. Imara spat on the ground as she and Hawk positioned themselves between the crowd and their chosen family.
“I dare you to take one more step,” Hawk warned, angling his body like a shield.
For one heartbeat, Tent City seemed to hold its breath. Then someone in the crowd shoved forward.
“Enough talk!” the man roared, surging toward Nadine with a jagged blade. One of her protectors slammed into his chest and knocked him to the ground. But the spark had caught.
Shouts broke into screams. Another body lunged at Nadine from the side, fists swinging. And then it wasn’t a debate anymore.
It was violence.
Half of them surged toward Nadine or Gemma, weapons raised or fists clenched. The other half tried to hold them back, shouting for reason, for restraint.
Christian pointed to Gemma but spoke to his sister. “Don’t let her out of your sight.”
He ducked the first swing of a man desperate to get to Gemma and drove his fist into the man’s gut, sending him staggering back into two others.
Hawk drew his dagger, the blade reflecting violet in the lamplight as he slashed the air between the fighters and his friends, driving them back with sheer ferocity. Imara stepped behind him, tapping the bracer on her wrist to bring Karma to life.
“Stop this!” Nadine shouted, but her voice was drowned by the clash of bodies and the vicious echo of Cho’s cry: “Hand her over! Hand her over!”
“Christian!” Lysa cried as a glint of violet flashed off Hawk’s blade again.
His heart stopped when he spun around.
Gemma was on her knees, sobbing, her tattoo shimmering brightly and moving up her arm. Her eyes were nearly all violet.
Christian reached for her. “Don’t give in, Gem—”
Someone slammed into his side. He went down hard, breath knocked from his lungs. Dust rose around him as his attacker’s fists descended, and he barely got his arms up in time.
Instinct took over.
Christian grabbed the man’s arm on their next strike, popping a knee into their temple and forcing them onto their back. After a solid hit to their face, they went limp.
Another fighter lunged with a sweep of a blade. Christian twisted, catching the woman’s wrist and ripping the knife from her hand.
He turned to look at Gemma—
A hit to the back of his skull sent him to the ground.
Darkness framed the edges of his vision. He blinked away stars, shaking his head as he pushed off the ground—
A wave of violet energy burst outward, rippling like liquid flame. It slammed into the mob with a sound like thunder, hurling men and women back as though they were weightless.
Christian gasped, half-blinded, as the haze solidified into a dome around him, Hawk, Imara, and Lysa. All of them were inside the shimmering shield, its surface writhing with streaks of purple light.
And at its center, Gemma stood with her arms outstretched, her tattoos blazing like molten fire across her arms, her chest, her neck . . .
Christian jumped to his feet and ran toward her, shouting her name, but she barely seemed to hear him. The shield trembled under the force of the crowd throwing themselves against it, sparks flaring at every impact.
