Rafael showed his teeth in what was more of a wince than a grin. His right hand cradled his left arm. "I think I’ve sprained my wrist," he gritted. "And maybe bruised a rib. And . . . ow!" With an angry tug, he yanked a cactus spine out of his cheek. Then his eyes widened in horror. "Leni—your throat! It’s . . ."