His skin had flushed to a dark bronze all over. He moved with both speed and grace, blocking or dodging every punch that Jabar threw at him, breaking every attempt at a wrestling hold with a squeeze of his long hands. His punches landed in a flurry, and Rina thought there was something downright beautiful about his kicks—or maybe it was just the fact that he had really nice legs.
Finally, Jabar stopped struggling and tumbled to the ground in a heap. Rina jumped down. The man was still conscious as Vipin held his shirt front and glared down into his eyes.
A chill ran through Rina. She had been too intent on surviving to let herself feel fear when Jabar grabbed her, and there had been a bloodthirsty pleasure in watching Vipin give him what he deserved. But, for the first time, she realized
