around making eyes at your bi—” Nic’s words were cut off when Kaleb slammed his fist into Nic’s mouth.
Kaleb said, “Show respect.”
“No bloodpoints!” The hawkers scurried and waved their hands. “Circle first.”
“Right,” Kaleb said mildly. He bent to the bucket and withdrew a handful of the salt-and-chalk mixture. The salt stung the scrapes on his knuckles where Nic’s teeth had torn the skin.
Nic moved to stand back-to-back with Kaleb. “You’d better hope your bitch has a protector lined up for after today.”
After a lifetime in the streets, Kaleb wasn’t going to be truly angry about Nic’s barbs. They necessitated a statement—which Kaleb had made with his fist—but they didn’t upset him in any way that would benefit Nic. As they finished drawing the circle, the barrier snapped into place.
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