“Fight one, fight all,” Jak said simply, arms hanging loose by his side, weight balanced on the balls of his feet, ready to fight but unwilling to give away anything by his stance.
Margia’s eyes glittered with animal hatred and anger. “You little shit, you’ll learn,” she grated, launching herself at the albino.
Jak was ready for the assault and adjusted his balance so that he could take the brunt of her attack side on. In her sudden flaring anger, she had lost some of her cunning, but Jak was still calm and collected. He countered her blow and used her own force against her to drive her back to the ground. She snarled as she sprang to her feet once more, her hand snaking down her thigh to where she had her panga sheathed.
Jak was ahead of her. He moved into her with the speed and slither of a snake, palming one of his leaf-bladed knives and using a swift downward motion to cut through the straps that held the sheath to her thigh. The panga dropped away from her thigh before she had secured her grip on the hilt. While she tried to fasten her grip, tilting her body slightly to snake her hand farther down, Jak took advantage of this sudden shift in balance to upset her totally, driving one combat boot outward so that it caught her bare ankle, barely protected by the simple thonged sandal. She yelped in involuntary pain as her ankle gave way beneath the driving force, and she crumpled to one side.
Jak followed her down, the knife in his palm. He secured her at the shoulders with his knees, locking his feet around her knees so that she couldn’t kick at him from behind his head.
He held the knife to her throat. She was completely silent, although her eyes gleamed with a desire to kill him.
“Give one reason why not,” Jak said softly.
“Because I say so,” a voice answered from behind.
“Not enough,” Jak said in a louder voice, over his shoulder.
Gloria stepped around until she was in his view. Ryan was with her. Jak knew that the one-eyed warrior would back him, as he would back any of his people, but he was also aware that Ryan would show deference to the Gate queen, as they were her guests. “Because she’s my sister, and as much of a bitch as she can be, and as stupidworks as any man, she’s still blood.”
Gathered around the scene, both Dean and Krysty started when they heard that. Both, in their own ways, had wondered why Margia could get away with so much in a society that otherwise wouldn’t have tolerated her attitude. Now it was clear: she was under the queen’s sufferance.
Jak looked Gloria squarely in the eye, leaf-bladed knife still at the blonde’s throat. Then, with the barest of nods, he slipped the knife back into its secured hiding place and rose from the supine woman.
“Check Mildred,” he said simply, turning to where his companion lay, starting to recover full consciousness while she was tended by J.B., who had ignored the continuing fight to come to her aid.
The encampment returned to normality quickly. Margia was led off by her sister, and the companions took Mildred back to their billet to tend to her. There was a subdued atmosphere, despite things continuing as on a normal night, and a gradual silence descended on the city of canvas and plastic. So it was with some surprise that Jak, not yet asleep, heard his name called softly from outside the tent. He looked at his companions. They were sleeping, and as usual Jak was the only one still to be awake. Sleeping was always hard, for when the dreams came they were violent and he was helpless as his wife and daughter were killed time and again in front of him.
So sometimes Jak didn’t sleep, and was glad of distraction. He rose and went out of the tent.
Gloria stood before him, framed by the light of a still burning lamp.
“Thank you for not chilling my sister,” she said simply.
“Your tribe—you deal.” The albino shrugged.