The stalling. The reluctance to attack. The way it had taunted me with repetition instead of fighting, the way it had stayed latched to trees instead of lunging. The sluggish movement that I'd attributed to caution but was actually something else entirely.
The reason it couldn't move properly wasn't injury. Wasn't fear or strategy.
It was digesting.
The Chameleon hadn't just mimicked Nisha. It hadn't just studied her from a distance to learn her mannerisms and speech. It had swallowed her. The close proximity that I'd deduced, the terrifyingly accurate impersonation, the knowledge of how Nisha spoke... all of it made sense now. It hadn't observed Nisha.
It had consumed her.
And everything since, the stalling, the taunting, keeping me fighting and distracted, all of it had been buying time for the process to complete.
The Chameleon's one good eye met mine. And slowly, deliberately, it let the smile widen.
It knew I'd figured it out.
