Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 100563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
I went to punch him in the jaw. His mercenaries pre-empted my strike by pressing the muzzles of their guns against my head.
I would pass out if he touched that spear again.
I would vomit and choke and die.
Forcing myself to speak through clenched teeth, I snarled, “What look? A gutted pig?”
“The ‘bleeding out like a slaughtered cow’ look.” He jerked the spear, making me pass out for a second.
Nothingness.
Then back on the beach.
He chuckled. “Thought you’d gone then, brother.” He let the spear go, dragging his finger through the congealing blood beneath me. “Wonder how many litres you’ve lost. How many can a human lose before they die?”
I shivered, suffering a stabbing pain in my belly and thickening greyness over my vision. “Piss off, Drake.”
“Nah, not yet. Not until I’ve fucked that sweet girl of yours, you’ve watched me slice her into pieces, and then given over every worldly possession you own.”
My heart kicked me into blackness again.
Gone.
Then back, blinking into colour, narrowing my eyes on my greatest enemy. “Who told you?”
Drake grinned. “What little spy told me about Euphoria and elixir?” He touched his swollen nose, wincing. “That’s a secret.”
“No secrets between brothers...” It was a struggle to work my tongue. The urge to slur and slip through words became harder and harder to ignore.
I’m dying.
The thought popped into my head with terrifying conviction.
My body felt wrong.
Cold.
Distant.
A shell I could no longer operate.
I clawed my way back into comprehension. I couldn’t die. Not until Drake was shark food.
Eleanor.
Fuck, Eleanor.
I’m so, so sorry.
My eyelids turned heavy.
I forced them wider.
I looked at the sky, and a flutter of emerald caught my attention.
Ah, shit.
My heart rate increased, keeping me alive but ensuring I died faster.
Two green parrots zipped from above, dive-bombing Drake.
No!
Pika squeaked and attacked Drake’s head, his little talons outstretched, sharp enough to scratch above his eye.
Drake ducked, throwing his hands up. “What the—?”
Pika fluttered around me, cawing instructions for me to sit up and give him somewhere to land.
“Leave, you damn bird!” I swatted my hand as he tried to perch on me, fighting the final wash of light-headedness. He puffed up like a menacing cotton ball; his black eyes filled with fury. “Go!”
Skittles circled both Drake and me, shredding the air with an ear-piercing squawk.
Mercenaries tried to catch her with outstretched fingers.
Drake eyed my caiques with the same malicious glee that he’d worn when he’d hurt Pongo.
I turned ice fucking cold.
“Well, well.” He sneered. “You have more pets other than Eleanor.”
“Hibiscus, Pika. Now.”
The flowers he favoured were by Nirvana. Far enough away to keep him protected, hidden by tall, thick trees and safe from whatever would happen to me. “Skittles, fuck off!”
Pika squeaked, darting around my head, so stupidly unaware that Drake prepared to pounce on him.
“Pika!” I waved my arms, creating air eddies, giving up the last of my energy to scare away my feathered friend. “Go!”
“Sully!” he chirped. “Lazy. Lazy!”
I glowered at Drake as he crouched, coiled and cruel. I knew his intentions. He watched Pika as if he could snatch the parrot from the sky and wring his tiny neck.
My heart hammered, I flickered between darkness and awake.
“Go, Pika! For fuck’s sake, go!”
He chirped again, his little face full of concern. I’d dealt with so many animals in my time and all had a high level of intelligence, but birds...they were different.
They knew things.
They understood what wasn’t said and could read a situation that might seem friendly but was filled with violence.
Pika had called me lazy because he saw me lying down and knew just how close I was to death.
He put his own life on the line to encourage me to stay alive.
Tears sprang to my hazy eyes. “GO!”
Drake held out his hand, cooing, “Come here, little birdie.”
Pika let out a huge screech, swooping toward him.
I whistled loud and piercingly, stopping him mid-attack. If he got anywhere near Drake, I’d be forced to witness fourteen years of man and parrot brotherhood being decapitated before me. “Pika!”
He snapped his wings and hovered just out of Drake’s reach. He squawked again, throwing me a rebellious glower.
“Hibiscus, Pika. NOW!”
He erupted in a chorus of angry chirps before finally darting into the jungle.
My energy levels plummeted.
My heart skipped with an odd rhythm, running out of blood to pump.
Skittles still hovered above.
Drake continued staring into the jungle after Pika, like the cat wanting to chase the juicy canary.
I’d saved one bird.
But Skittles was too brave, too bold, too loyal.
She pinned in her wings and attacked Drake on my behalf.
“No!”
She dive-bombed, pecking at his eyes, scratching at his nose.
Drake bellowed as she darted off, only to swoop in again, drawing blood on his cheek.
“Skittles, stop!” I cried, my voice fading and weak.
She didn’t.
She continued attacking him, taking more and more risks, getting closer and closer to his flailing hands as he tried to protect his face from her beak missiles, so, so close to snatching her from the sky.