Page 87 of Us Defiant Few

“How sweet,” he enunciated with a tight jaw, glaring at her.

She would’ve paid big money to watch Takeshi’s version of justice.

But when they entered the tent, her stomach dropped.

Takeshi was tied to a chair, reminiscent of the position she’d been in earlier. Blood seeped from a similar gash in his arm, dripping over the ropes binding his wrists. What was worse were the several bloody cuts marring his face.

“Takeshi.” She rushed over and fell to her knees.

“Kanes,” he rasped, relief coating his voice. But when he noticed the mark on her cheek, his entire body went rigid. His cold eyes swept over her, slow and deliberate. And with each fresh injury he discovered, Takeshi’s expression transformed until no trace of civility was left and he looked more monster than man.

The metal chair audibly groaned as he pulled his bindings with unbelievable force. When the ropes looked like they might actually snap, the others in the tent raised their weapons, exchanging uneasy glances.

But Khalani’s gaze cut to a shorter woman. Half her head was shaved, and the other half was intricately braided in brown curls that fell along her cheek.

What caught her attention were the brass knuckles the woman wore…with fresh bloodstains.

She was casually wiping them clean when Khalani launched forward and punched her in the face. Chaos erupted as the woman crumbled to the ground, covering her head. But Khalani didn’t stop. She continued to rain down blow after blow, each more ferocious than the last.

Screams filled the tent, like sharp bullets trying to penetrate her fury. But her vision was lost in a red haze, and she kept punching.

Heavy arms wrapped around Khalani, and someone yanked her back, throwing her to the hard ground. She scrambled to her feet as one of the men helped the woman stand. One eye was already starting to swell, with a bloody cut splitting her lip.

It wasn’t enough.

Not nearly enough.

Khalani took another step forward, but one of the men backhanded her. Her head whipped to the side as a furious roar rang in her eardrums.

She spat out blood, turning to the bald man who’d struck her. His tan uniform was tight around his shoulders, seeming to hang by a few select threads as he stalked forward.

“You dare touch a Sinner?” he hissed.

“I’ll do a lot more than that.”

Movement shifted, and she noticed the younger man who’d greeted Ansel just a foot away. A loose knife hung from his belt.

Instinct overrode logic. Khalani pivoted and struck him in the throat, snatching the knife from his belt. Shocked gasps echoed around her as she adjusted the blade in her grip, preparing to throw.

“Don’t, Kanes!” Takeshi screamed.

But it was too late.

She’d already marked the woman for death. Because it was one thing for them to hurt her. It was entirely different to hurt him.

Before the knife loosened from her fingers, Ansel’s voice rang out.

“Drop it.”

She glanced over as Ansel pressed the barrel of his gun directly to Takeshi’s temple.

Her entire body trembled. But Ansel kept the deadly weapon steady.

Takeshi didn’t move. His hellish gaze raked over her, not looking the least bit concerned over the imminent threat. He seemed to grow bigger in the chair. As if the boiling rage couldn’t be contained in his body.

For once, they were united in the same violent desire.

But Ansel grinned, knowing that he’d found her greatest weakness.