The Adder put his back to me to go in for another swing at Daniel. Just a girl. I didn’t worry him much. Daniel launched himself straight at him to avoid another wallop from the timber. I skittered in behind and snatched up the gun. But now what? The two of them were grappling madly, swinging this way and that, and what did I know about guns? If I fired from there, I might hit Daniel. To be sure of my target, I’d have to get in too close, and then the Adder might . . . flashback panic toppled me like a wave. I crabbed backward on my butt till I was scrunched in a corner, trying for invisible.

The Adder shook Daniel off, sent him careening against the wall. He’d lost his club in the grapple, so he put his fists to work. Daniel was no match for a berserker giant. He took a pair of deep gut punches and slumped, heaving for breath. Then the Adder backhanded him across the face. His head slammed against the wall. He dropped like a stone. A few unnecessary body kicks, and the Adder turned toward me.

“Now for the fun part,” he said.

I’d seen Adders only when they were drunk and stupid. This guy was sober, with a smart, mean gaze, and he was pumped on fight adrenaline. He’d left Daniel behind so casually, I was sure he’d killed him. The gun was buried in my fists, cupped against my belly, barrel out. The room was dim. Either he didn’t see it, or he figured I was too freaked to fire.

He took a long step forward. “Just what I need.”

No. Not again. No way was I letting this happen a second time.

A yell rang out from the hallway. “Pike? You there? Need you down here, man! Two loads of Tommys just pulled up!”

“Give me five.” The one called Pike untied his loincloth and let it drop, brandishing his erection. “Or c’mon in. You can have her after.”

Should or shouldn’t never crossed my mind.

The rush of water, gale winds roaring. Lizzy screaming.

No . . . fucking . . . way!

I shot him in the chest. The little gun bucked against my belly. He stumbled, and I shot him again, lower down. He collapsed, howling, then lay still.

“Pike?”

A second Adder appeared in the doorway. This time, it was Rubio’s voice I heard: In for a penny, in for a pound. An antique saying he loved—like, when you’re already over the cliff, why worry about falling?

I shot the second one and watched the shock bloom on his face along with the hole in his throat. He stepped through the door, then toppled next to his pal.

I waited.