Page 96

My blood goes cold, and the rest of the world blurs as I follow the sound of the tiger.

Seventeen years, I’ve waited to kill Angma. This time, I won’t let her go.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

I bolt into the garden, chasing Angma through a tangle of jasmine shrubs, following the faint supernatural rustling through the bushes.

I’m not in pursuit for long.

To my surprise, she stops at a pool, where she brazenly takes a sip of water—as if my pursuit means nothing to her.

With any other tiger, I would take my time. Would duck into the bushes and inch toward her, keeping a distance to disguise my scent. But not with Angma.

I launch at her full speed. Every step is charged, and I’m a breath from stabbing her in the back when her whiskers go taut, and she lifts her head. Swivels.

Her eyes are liquid amber, but I’m prepared this time. I’ve marked the precise location of her heart. I look away. Calling upon all my strength, I thrust with my spear.

“Channi!” Angma bursts out. “Don’t!”

Her cry catches me off guard, but I don’t hesitate. I strike. I almost have her, until she leaps into the water. I pierce her side instead of her heart.

Her holler is a song to my ears. But I won’t celebrate until she’s dead.

While she spasms in pain, I hook her neck under my arm. “Where is my sister?”

“Channi!” Angma croaks. “Channi, it’s me.”

The voice is Angma’s; her inflections are gentle and melodic—the way Vanna speaks. I know better than to listen. Angma’s tried to fool me before. I push her head into the water, intending to drown her.

Warm rain streams down my temples as I feel Angma’s blood pulsing wildly under my fingers. She’s shaking, barely resisting me.

This is not the Demon Witch I’ve fought before.

Still, I do not let go. I yank her dripping head out of the pool, only to demand: “Where is my sister?”

“It’s me,” Angma cries again, gasping for air. “I’m your sister!”

She flails, finally summoning her strength to pull herself out of the water.

No, you don’t. I leap onto her back and fold both arms around her neck. She’s yelling, but even if I could understand her words, I wouldn’t listen. I have only one mission, and it ends with her death.

We tumble into the flowers, struggling against each other. Ukar sinks his fangs into her neck while I hold her down, strangling her with my bare hands. Then she rasps out a word that makes my breath catch.

“Cake.”

Never has a single word been freighted with more meaning. I lower my lips to her ear. “What did you say?” I whisper harshly.

“Cake,” she splutters. “Cake.”

“What about cake?”

“The secret…secret ingredient is…white sesame.”

My arms go limp, and as they drop to my sides, I let go of her neck.

It can’t be.

This is Angma. The tiger that has haunted me for seventeen years. Rust-orange fur with thick black stripes, and white hair, matted across the ridge of her back.