“I’m going to kill them,” I declare. Enraged, I grab my dagger as I start up the ladder.
Pete jumps to his feet and wraps his arms around my waist, restraining me as I step onto the first rung. “Seriously, you need to control your slice ’em, dice ’em attitude when someone pisses you off.” I pull from his grip, but he snatches my wrist, forcing me to drop my knife. It lands in the disgusting water with a plunk.
“Let me go. I’m going to cut them into teeny-tiny bits and feed them to the rats,” I growl.
“I know, I know, rat food. I get it, but we need to get to the Lost City. We can’t take them on by ourselves. We’ll need help. Besides, Bella would never let them near Mikey,” Pete grunts against my flailing arms.
“They will regret it if they lay one single finger on my brother.” Bella’s small face comes to my mind as I imagine her struggling to hold my brother up, her wings straining against the extra load. “On either of those kids,” I say through gritted teeth.
Pete sighs, spins me around, and holds me at arm’s length. “Enough! No need to get your knickers in a twist. Listen, Immune, I’d really like to help you, but you need to get one thing straight. I know their weaknesses better than you do. How are you going to take on an army of Marauders with a pocketknife?”
I shove him hard, sending him stumbling backward, nearly falling into the nasty sewer water. “You’re the one who got us into this mess. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you. If I had stuck with my gut, if I had gone after Joanna myself, Mikey wouldn’t be running in the streets unprotected and alone. I’m done following you.” I fish my knife out of the water, sheathe it, and start toward the ladder again, determined to get my siblings back myself.
Pete chases after me. “Unprotected and alone? Have you met Bella?” He grabs my arm, whirling me to face him. “She’s the best bet he’s got right now. Besides, you were on the brink of starvation. Your stomach hasn’t stopped growling since we left your hideout, which tells me you weren’t eating much. And my guess is that you weren’t eating your share just so you could keep those kids alive. Do you really believe you can take Hook and the soldiers on your own, especially with a Little in tow? You’re mad if you do.”
I raise a hand to slap him. He grabs my wrist before my palm makes contact. Pulling from his grip, I glare at him, wanting to blow him out like the flame of a candle. Wishing he’d just disappear. “I don’t see how this situation has gotten any better since you’ve come along. In fact, it’s gotten much worse. At least if I had gone alone, if it was just Mikey and me, we would still be together. Now both of my siblings are out there, no thanks to you.”
“Joanna wasn’t my fault, was it?” he yells back. “And as far as Mikey is concerned, you’re lucky he isn’t in Hook’s lab as we speak. It was you who led the Marauders to your hideout, not me!”
I purse my lips, biting back the barrage of expletives running through my head.
Pete rubs his forehead wearily. “Look, Bella would rather die than let anything happen to Mikey. She is a little rough around the edges, but she’s smart. If they outrun the Marauders, they’ll be at our meeting point. As for Joanna, we’ll get her back. I intend to help, but you have to do what I say, when I say to do it,” he says. “No questions asked.”
“And why would I do that?” I cross my arms in front of me indignantly. “Listening to you has caused me nothing but grief.”
“Frankly, I’m fed up with your princess attitude. Maybe I ought to let you go on your way. I’m certainly not benefiting at all from this,” Pete barks.
His words sting, but I press my lips together, unwilling to let him see the hurt boiling within me. “The feeling is mutual,” I mutter as I climb the ladder.
“Wait!” Pete says, grabbing my ankle.
Clutching my knife, I jump down, grip his shirt collar, and throw him against the brick wall. I hold the tip of my dagger to his neck. “Don’t. You. Touch. Me!”
“Whoa! Hold on!” Pete says, holding up his hands, his eyes wide with actual fright. “The truth is … the truth is I need you.”
Surprised, I loosen my grasp on his shirt. “What? Why?”
He hesitates. His reluctance to share his thoughts stirs a sick feeling within me. I grip his shirt again, shaking him. “Talk!” I shout, gritting my teeth.
He grimaces and lets out a breath. “You see, there aren’t really Immunes, or at least not any I have found until I came across you.”
“What do you mean by ‘aren’t really Immunes’? That’s what you’ve been calling me this whole time,” I accuse.