The Hunt by Megan Shepherd Read Free Book Online Page B

gloves just like the boy they’d dragged away had worn. As soon as Cora saw them, uneasiness bloomed in her stomach. “Is everything okay? What happened to that boy?”
    â€œI do not know,” Mali said. “Cassian puts me here early today. He makes me a driver. The boy they take away is also a driver. His name is Chicago. He teaches me to steer the trucks thismorning. They go on a track, the same circle again and again until we find an animal to shoot. The guards come for him and he starts yelling. The other safari guides look scared, but they tell me to pretend nothing happens.”
    Cora glanced toward the bar. The Kindred with the sunken eyes was still watching her with that creepy smile.
    â€œHave you seen Lucky?” Cora asked. “What about Leon? Nok and Rolf?”
    â€œI hear nothing about them.” Mali suddenly latched onto Cora’s wrist with clawlike fingers. “Do you remember your promise.”
    Cora’s arm stung all over again. “Promise?”
    â€œAnya.” Mali’s short nails dug deeper into her skin. “My friend. We make a deal in the cage: I help you escape and you help rescue Anya.”
    â€œYeah, I remember,” Cora said, biting through the pain. “But it isn’t like we can just stroll over there and get her. We’re trapped.”
    Mali squeezed even tighter.
    â€œFine!” Cora hissed. “If there’s any way to do it, then we will. Now, stop clawing me.”
    Mali released her and then gave her flat smile, friendly again. “Good. We will talk more. After work.”
    She started to leave, but Cora jerked her chin at the Kindred with the sunken eyes. “Hang on a minute. That Kindred keeps looking at me. Do you know who he is?”
    Mali scratched at a bug bite on her neck. “His name is Roshian. Makayla tells me about him this morning. Ignore him. He is harmless.”
    â€œMakayla?”
    â€œThe one who dances.”
    Before Cora could ask more, Dane beckoned her back onstage, and she didn’t dare disobey him again. The platform was smeared in fresh blood from the hyena. She looked back at the audience. Roshian had started dancing again with Makayla, stepping on her toes hard enough to make her grimace.
    Their eyes met over the girl’s shoulder, and he smiled again. Ignore him? Even if she could, there were thirty more just like him. Watching her. Judging her. Maybe just waiting to drag her off too, like they had Chicago. She stepped up to the microphone again, but this time her voice was shaking.
    Back home, her dream had been to become a songwriter. She’d secretly scrawled lyrics in her journal after her parents had gone to bed, about what it was like to be trapped in the life of a senator’s daughter. She’d close her eyes and imagine a stage where she could sing what she wanted to, make people understand through her lyrics, be free in the spotlight to sing the words in her heart.
    Now she had a spotlight.
    And all she could think of was the bruises and watery eyes of the other kids, injuries she and Mali would probably have soon too.
    As she grabbed the microphone, the last thing it felt like was a dream.
    â€œHONORED GUESTS, THE HUNT is closing.”
    Cora’s throat was hoarse by the time the hostess finally announced that the Hunt was closing for the evening. The lights dimmed, and the few remaining Kindred guests departed. Thedark-haired bartender cleaned the lounge in a rush, tossing her a rag to wipe the last traces of the animals’ blood off the stage.
    When she finished, the other humans had gone. She looked up at an eerily empty lodge. Clipped footsteps came from the direction of the veranda, where the hostess appeared. Cora started—though she was dressed in the same costume, it wasn’t Issander. Now Tessela wore the safari dress, and as she approached Cora, she gave the hint of a smile.
    â€œTessela,” Cora whispered. “What happened to