He stumbled toward me, hissing, “I’m going to take it all, and unlike you...I’m going to share.”

Hissing hate ran through me. “My islands are not for sale.”

“I don’t remember offering you a price.”

“You think you can take my business by force?” I smirked and tapped my temple with a wobbly hand. “It’s all up here, cunt. The programming. The cypher. The way Euphoria works. The recipe for elixir.” I shrugged. “You can’t have a damn thing because I fucking refuse to give it to you.”

“Oh, you will. I’ll trade you. Eleanor Grace for everything.”

I grinned. “She’s gone. You couldn’t shoot her down. You’re too late.”

“I’ll find her. I know her name. The world is an open book these days.” He smiled and rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand, spreading more blood. “I already have her parents’ names and addresses. I’ll just make myself at home here, we’ll have a family reunion while she flies to her folks, then I’ll arrange for her transportation back here. When she arrives, we’ll have ourselves a little chat and see how firm you are on the idea of business over pleasure.”

I flinched as another wash of sickness made me sway.

Fuck!

“And you call yourself a man.” He clucked his tongue. “Can’t shoot. Don’t eat meat. Have to buy whores to sleep with you. And think just by sending your girl away that I can’t hurt her. You’re an embarrassment, Sullivan.”

My heart galloped, oozing more blood from me to the beach. Terror I’d never felt before crippled me at the thought of Eleanor being tortured and raped by my sibling.

I wanted to launch at him.

I wanted to tear him into shreds.

But my own body imprisoned me.

My own blood forsook me and soaked into the sand instead. Balling my hands, I snarled, “Yet for all my downfalls, you still wish you were me. The older brother envious of the younger.”

I screamed as he kicked me in the leg, his boot catching on the spear, sheer fucking agony bellowing through me. “Not jealous. Just owed what’s rightfully mine.”

I gasped and groaned, writhing with uncontrollable pain.

Fuck, I’d been blind all over again.

I’d given Eleanor access to my credit card so I could track her whereabouts.

If I could do that...of course others could. She would never be safe until Drake was dead.

I hadn’t learned a fucking thing.

It was my fault she was in danger.

My fault all my rescues had died.

My fault that Cal was barely breathing.

My fault that my beach was decorated with the bodies of my guards.

My fucking fault for everything.

Drake clucked his tongue again. His forehead shined fake-perfect, his eyes unable to fully squint with intimidation.

It’d been a few years since we’d seen each other, and instead of letting nature weather him, he’d turned to pharmaceuticals to reverse the hints of aging.

“You know...” I coughed as my pain levels crept to all-consuming. “Injecting your face with botulinum toxin might do my job for me.” I attempted to stand. To grab him, kill him. “You’ll die wrinkle free, Drake, but you’ll still fucking die.”

I wobbled and fell sideways, cursing my failing body, eyeing up the pool of blood beneath me.

“What’s the matter, little brother? Feeling woozy?” He grinned and kicked my leg again, crunching the harpoon against my thigh bone.

“Motherfucker!” I jack-knifed up and shoved him away.

He snickered, his own injuries making him trip. “I can take that out of you. I could be nice like that. However, the hooked end will mean I’ll rip off most of your leg...but you don’t need to walk anymore, do you, Sully? All I need is that genius brain of yours.”

He ducked to his haunches beside me, his hands locking around the spear. “By the way, this look is good on you.”

I went to punch him in the jaw. His mercenaries pre-empted my strike by pressing the muzzles of their guns against my head.

I would pass out if he touched that spear again.

I would vomit and choke and die.

Forcing myself to speak through clenched teeth, I snarled, “What look? A gutted pig?”

“The ‘bleeding out like a slaughtered cow’ look.” He jerked the spear, making me pass out for a second.

Nothingness.

Then back on the beach.

He chuckled. “Thought you’d gone then, brother.” He let the spear go, dragging his finger through the congealing blood beneath me. “Wonder how many litres you’ve lost. How many can a human lose before they die?”

I shivered, suffering a stabbing pain in my belly and thickening greyness over my vision. “Piss off, Drake.”

“Nah, not yet. Not until I’ve fucked that sweet girl of yours, you’ve watched me slice her into pieces, and then given over every worldly possession you own.”

My heart kicked me into blackness again.

Gone.

Then back, blinking into colour, narrowing my eyes on my greatest enemy. “Who told you?”

Drake grinned. “What little spy told me about Euphoria and elixir?” He touched his swollen nose, wincing. “That’s a secret.”

“No secrets between brothers...” It was a struggle to work my tongue. The urge to slur and slip through words became harder and harder to ignore.

I’m dying.

The thought popped into my head with terrifying conviction.

My body felt wrong.

Cold.

Distant.

A shell I could no longer operate.

I clawed my way back into comprehension. I couldn’t die. Not until Drake was shark food.

Eleanor.

Fuck, Eleanor.

I’m so, so sorry.

My eyelids turned heavy.

I forced them wider.

I looked at the sky, and a flutter of emerald caught my attention.

Ah, shit.

My heart rate increased, keeping me alive but ensuring I died faster.

Two green parrots zipped from above, dive-bombing Drake.

No!

Pika squeaked and attacked Drake’s head, his little talons outstretched, sharp enough to scratch above his eye.

Drake ducked, throwing his hands up. “What the—?”

Pika fluttered around me, cawing instructions for me to sit up and give him somewhere to land.

“Leave, you damn bird!” I swatted my hand as he tried to perch on me, fighting the final wash of light-headedness. He puffed up like a menacing cotton ball; his black eyes filled with fury. “Go!”

Skittles circled both Drake and me, shredding the air with an ear-piercing squawk.

Mercenaries tried to catch her with outstretched fingers.

Drake eyed my caiques with the same malicious glee that he’d worn when he’d hurt Pongo.

I turned ice fucking cold.

“Well, well.” He sneered. “You have more pets other than Eleanor.”

“Hibiscus, Pika. Now.”

The flowers he favoured were by Nirvana. Far enough away to keep him protected, hidden by tall, thick trees and safe from whatever would happen to me. “Skittles, fuck off!”

Pika squeaked, darting around my head, so stupidly unaware that Drake prepared to pounce on him.

“Pika!” I waved my arms, creating air eddies, giving up the last of my energy to scare away my feathered friend. “Go!”