Chapter 9

• Amari stood a good distance from the fire and sipped the strong brew. It could have been mud at this point, and she wouldn’t have cared, anything to get the taste of fuel out of her mouth. Her cat was going crazy inside her, not being able to process any scents. If it hadn’t been for—she didn’t even know his name.
• He came out of the tent dragging sleeping bags behind him, then surprised her when he draped one over each of the men. She could have cared less if they were cold, wet, or breathing for that matter. He glanced at her as he picked up his cup, “I’d sooner put a bullet in each of them and head home,” he gave her a lopsided grin, “but until then, I can’t be inhumane. “
• Amari lifted one eyebrow at him, “I can.”