The feral lunged for the handlers, jaws snapping as he danced at the end of his chain. Two of the handlers backed away fast while the third lifted his gun and fired into the night sky. The sound echoed eerily through the dead city. The handler then unhooked the overhead chain and set the feral free.
The handler who’d released the feral now escaped into the castle. The door closed with an ominous bang. The feral was a huge, hairy figure standing on two legs, with long, sharp claws that reflected the light from above. Instead of leaping on Everson like I’d expected, the feral pulled his chain free of the sagging wire, turned tail — literally — and raced around the building. Was he checking for a break in the fence? From this vantage point I could see that his search would be useless.
Everson headed the other way around the castle. The handlers on the roof followed him with the spotlights. We crossed the roof to watch him stalk along carefully. The crowd jeered and placed bets. Everson made it to the backside of the castle, but the feral wasn’t there to greet him … or so he thought. At that instant the ivy erupted behind him. With an ear-splitting shriek the feral plunged from his hiding place.
I clapped my hands over my eyes. Suddenly there was silence. “Is he okay?” I hissed, and then dared to lower my fingers.
“Course he is,” Rafe whispered. “Guy’s no slouch.”
The feral had his jaws clamped down on Everson’s forearm, but the burlap padding protected his skin. Everson pulled his arm free and staggered back.
“He should have gutted it then,” Omar growled. “He had the chance.”
The feral bounded after Everson and, with a flying leap, took him down. Spinning and writhing together, they rolled over the grass. Everson cracked the feral in the face with the baton, which bought him enough time to spring to his feet.
Several people on the roof shouted their approval.
“Not bad,” Rafe said.
I elbowed him in the ribs. “This isn’t a wrestling match.”
“It kinda is,” he pointed out.
The feral bounced up and crouched, his yellow eyes catching the light. Everson launched forward and shoved the creature back against the wall. He lifted his arm and the feral instinctively clamped down. Again, the burlap padding protected Everson’s flesh, but this time instead of pulling away, he wedged his arm in harder. The feral’s eyes grew wide as Everson jerked the creature’s head forward, only to slam it back into the wall.
Dazed, the feral couldn’t get his jaws off Everson’s padded forearm. Everson cracked the feral’s head again and again against the stone, brutally, until the feral slumped forward unconscious. Everson ripped his arm out of the feral’s slack jaws and stepped into the spotlight to look at the roof.
The guests clapped enthusiastically and a couple whistled their approval.
“He hasn’t passed yet, Omar,” the queen sneered.
Omar leaned over the low wall. “The test isn’t over until the feral is dead. Gut it.”
Everson threw down his baton. “I’m not killing an unconscious man.”
“What man?” the queen asked, looking genuinely perplexed.
“The hairy guy on the ground,” Rafe told her. “Human. Well, mostly.” The queen shot him an annoyed look. He held up his hands. “You asked.”
“Gut the feral,” Omar shouted as he pulled a gun from inside his jacket. “Or I will —”
With a snarl, the feral leapt up and charged at Everson with flashing claws and snapping jaws.
Everson dug into his apron pocket, pulled the knife, and met the feral head on, driving the point of the knife into his opponent’s gut. The feral roared, his fangs just inches from Everson’s throat. Everson threw back his head and plunged the knife in again. The feral’s claws caught Everson’s face, digging savagely into his flesh. Blood streamed down his cheeks. He thrust with all his strength and buried the knife in the feral’s stomach. They remained locked like that: Everson pressing the knife into the feral, the feral digging his claws into Everson’s face. With a growl the feral’s claws finally retracted and he sank to the ground — dead.
Everson collapsed by the feral’s body and covered his face with his hand.
“Now that’s more like it,” the queen gushed. Clapping and cheers erupted across the roof. “Very entertaining!” she called down to Everson.
Hate for her burst in me like a geyser. Couldn’t she see that he was devastated?
Omar holstered his gun. “He will take the test again every night until he guts the feral without hesitation.”
The evil man couldn’t have come up with a worse fate for Everson. To be forced into killing infected men night after night or get shot himself? We had to escape from this place before we all ended up insane or dead.
Dromo appeared before the queen and bowed low. “My queen —”
“What is it that can’t wait?” she snapped.
“The king has returned.”
The queen’s face became masklike and her cheeks lost their rosy flush. “Oh. That’s wonderful,” she said in a flat tone.
The woman was clearly scared to death of her husband, and given what I knew now, she should be.
She faced the crowd on the roof. “Everyone, I have good news.” The cheers and chatter cut out instantly. “The king has returned to the compound. You should all go to the ballroom on the second floor now. However, dinner will be delayed until the king joins us.”
As people shuffled toward the stairwell, the queen snagged Dromo’s sleeve. “What kind of mood —” She stopped herself, took a breath, and began again in a calmer tone. “Did he catch anything?”
“He must have. He’s in a very good mood,” Dromo said in a soothing voice.
The queen seemed to sag with relief. “I’ll see if he wants to join us for dinner.” She glanced at us. “Though he might be too tired.”
I hoped that he was beyond exhausted. I had no desire to ever meet the king of Chicago. As soon as the queen hurried off with Dromo, I turned to one of the handlers. “Can we go down to talk to the new handler? We want to congratulate him.”
“Absolutely not,” Omar said from behind me. “For the next two months, the only people he will see are other handlers. And of course, the manimals he trains.”
“Everson doesn’t even know we’re here,” I whispered to Rafe as we followed the crowd down to the second floor. “There’s no way he could have seen us with those floodlights in his eyes. We need to get him a message somehow.”
“Cosmo,” Rafe said.
“What? We don’t even know where he is.”
“I mean there’s Cosmo.” Rafe pointed down the hall.
Sure enough, our little friend was peering out at us from under a side table, his toy monkey clutched to his chest. As the guests headed into the ballroom, Rafe and I hurried over to him. I crouched in my gown. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” he said but then followed my gaze to his stranglehold on Jasper. He loosened his grip. “A-okay.”
Rafe hunkered beside me. “What are you doing here?”
“The handlers took Everson.”
“Cosmo, it’s too dangerous for you here,” I said. “If they catch you, they’ll put you back in the zoo.”
He put Jasper on top of his head as if to block out the image. “I have to get Everson out.”
Rafe scoffed. “How?”
“Through the basement, where the servants live,” Cosmo whispered. “The stairs by the pens go outside.”
“Huh,” Rafe said with surprise. “Good plan.”
“Did you find your mom?” I asked.
Cosmo shook his head. “She doesn’t live in the castle anymore. Nobody knows where she went.”
I slid my arm across his shoulders and hugged him close. “I’ll bet Dromo knows where she is. We’ll ask him.”
“Nothing much gets past that guy,” Rafe agreed. “Hey, where do the handlers go after an initiation test?”
“The mess hall.” Cosmo pointed to the floor. “By the kitchen.”
br />
“Then that’s where Everson is.”
“Cosmo, can you get to him and tell him we’re here in the castle?” I asked. Rafe shot me a look but I kept my gaze on the little manimal. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. We won’t be mad.”
“I’ll tell Everson,” he said confidently.
“What are you doing?” a voice behind us snapped. We looked up to see the handler who’d been outside our bedroom earlier. “You’re supposed to be in the ballroom.” Then he noticed Cosmo hunkered under the table. “Get out from there. And where’s your collar?” He grabbed a knob-topped baton from his apron pocket. “Next time you want a beat down, beast, just ask.”
Rafe sprang up, primed for a fight. “He’s with us.”
I rose as well and tucked Cosmo behind me.
“What do you mean with you?” the handler sneered. “You think the king is going to let a filthy manimal sit at his table? If he sees your monkey, he’ll slice its throat with a carving knife before you’ve even finished your curtsy.”
“We’re not taking him into dinner.” With a hand behind my back, I waved Cosmo away. “He’s going back to our room now.”
Cosmo took off running down the hall.
“See? Problem solved.” Rafe leveled the handler with a look that dared him to pursue it.
The man scowled. “Get to the ballroom.”
Moonlight streamed in from a huge skylight above. Wavery light came from candles placed throughout the enormous room. Bare-chested manimal waiters, wearing collars, kilts, and Rollerblades, made whizzing hairpin turns between the tables. A fox-man stopped short, nipple rings gleaming, and held out a tray of long-stemmed glasses brimming with sparkling wine.
“No thank you,” I said while batting Rafe’s arm away from the tray. At his cranky look, I whispered, “We’re trying to escape, remember? Not get impaired.”
“Impaired,” he scoffed. “That stuff won’t even put me in a good mood.”
The queen waved us over to where she was sitting on a raised chair, surrounded by candles. “So … have you thought about how you’ll spend your time now that you’ll be living with us?”
“You mean like on a work crew?” Rafe plopped down on the dais by her feet. The queen looked confused, by his question or his action or both. “You must have work crews. Someone cleared all those cars off the streets between here and the zoo,” he clarified.
“No, that’s manimal work.” She sized up Rafe from under lowered lashes. “I was thinking that since you’re a hunter, you could track down new mongrels for my collection.”
“Those things in cages on the roof?” Rafe asked.
“Those are just the small ones. It takes twenty of them to make a coat.” She skimmed her fingers down her fur cape. “Wait till you see what I keep in the zoo.”
Just as I was starting to feel sick, a small silver face peered in through the French doors that led to the balcony. When Cosmo spotted me, he held up a scrap of paper. I smiled. “Excuse me,” I said to the queen. “I need to get some air.” Which was absolutely true. Since she paid me no mind, I started for the balcony.
“If you already have a zoo full of mash-ups, what do you need more mongrels for?” I heard Rafe ask.
“I need new blood to infect animals with,” she replied lightly. “I don’t want to crossbreed the same old mongrels over and over. Where’s the fun in that? I want new creatures in new colors with wilder markings.”
I turned back so fast I tripped in my heels and had to grab on to a table to keep from falling. If the queen was giving Ferae to animals on purpose — and probably people too — then she kept infected blood on hand. She probably had a whole assortment of strains if she was playing around with new DNA combinations…. I bit my bottom lip to keep the hope rising in me from turning into a shout.
I tried to catch Rafe’s eye. Did he realize what the queen’s little pastime might mean for the whole country?
I hadn’t been able to get Spurling’s photograph, but if I could help Everson collect more strains of Ferae for Dr. Solis … If the doctor could find a cure … Everything I’d gone through in the Feral Zone — even being attacked by Chorda — would have been worth it.
Queen Sindee laughed at something Rafe was saying. If he didn’t quit being charming, the queen would never take her eyes off him and then we’d never get the chance to find her treasure trove of infected blood and escape.
Escape. Right. With Everson and Cosmo, who was peering at me from the shadows on the balcony. I gave him the tiniest thumbs-up sign as I scooted for the glass doors. I glanced over my shoulder before stepping outside, only to find the queen watching me. I froze as she flung back her fur cape and stood.
“And what about you?” she asked as she strolled toward me.
I stood in the open door, using my skirt to hide Cosmo. “Me?”
She stopped inches from me. “Have you figured out how you’re going to fit in here?”
“I, uh —”
A shriek erupted behind me. I turned to see Cosmo going crazy in the doorway, yowling and hitting himself in the head with his fists. I skittered back into the room. Oh no, he was turning feral right before my eyes! But Rafe had said that was impossible.
Omar shouted, “Get back!” as he shoved me aside and pulled his baton from its holster.
“No!” Rafe leapt to his feet.
I tried to block Cosmo from view. “Don’t touch him.” Whatever fit had gripped him, it seemed to be growing worse. His breath came in gasps and his cries became wails.
Omar turned on Rafe. “Is that thing yours?”
Suddenly Cosmo snarled with all the fury of a silverback and sprang at the queen, screeching as he clawed her. The first handler to reach them couldn’t tear Cosmo off of her, he clung to her cape so tightly. Even as she careened around the room, squawking like a demented chicken, Cosmo held on.
It took three handlers plus Omar to finally throw Cosmo to the floor with the queen’s cape still clutched in his hands. They surrounded him, hitting him with their batons.
“Stop it!” I caught one handler’s upraised arm, hauled him off-balance, and dragged him to the floor.
Rafe threw another handler aside, drew the man’s gun, and pressed it to the third man’s temple. “Get away from him.”
I crawled to Cosmo, but was afraid to touch him, afraid I’d make things worse. How many of his bones had they shattered? His mouth was a mess of broken teeth and blood. Yet still he clutched the queen’s cape to his chest as he moaned. With a start, I realized that the noise was more than a pained whimper. It was a word….
“Mom, Mom …”
The queen pushed Rafe away from the handler. “Is that how you deal with a beast going feral? By fighting with the handlers?”
“He can’t go feral.” Rafe sounded as if he’d gone feral. “He’s second generation.”
“Your pet just turned,” the queen huffed. “We all saw him.”
“He didn’t. You’re wearing his mother.” Rafe stabbed a finger toward the cape that Cosmo was clutching — the snow-white fur now soaked with blood.
The queen blinked. “Oh. Her.” She sighed. “No matter what I bred her with, she never managed to produce offspring with fur as lovely as hers. I finally gave up trying.”
Cosmo gurgled blood. Rafe fell to his knees, his expression stricken. He laid the gun on the floor.
Even if there was a doctor in the castle, the queen would probably never let him or her treat a manimal. Maybe if we found Everson … Though how much could he do for Cosmo? He couldn’t replace teeth or fix a smashed nose or …
As Rafe gathered the little manimal into his arms, Cosmo cried out in pain.
“Don’t,” I croaked. “You’ll make it worse.”
But Rafe ignored me and cradled him against his chest. Cosmo seemed to relax in Rafe’s arms and he closed his beautiful blue eyes, only to open them again when Rafe’s tears splashed on his face. “Don’t worry. Ev will fix you up,” Rafe said, his
voice in shreds. “He’s good at that, remember? You’re going to be okay.”
Cosmo touched his knuckles to Rafe’s cheek. “A-okay,” he whispered and then his hand dropped and he grew still.
“No.” Rafe held him closer, but Cosmo’s head lolled back. His fingers uncurled, releasing the scrap of paper, which fluttered to the floor.
Dizziness swept over me and I swayed. I couldn’t think. Thinking meant absorbing what had just happened. A handler snatched the gun from the floor. All around me, I saw stunned faces. And then I saw Rafe. His light brown hair fell across his cheekbones as he laid Cosmo’s body on the floor, hiding his expression. I picked up the paper that had fallen from Cosmo’s fingers and stuffed it down the front of my gown without reading it.
“All right, everyone, dinner is served. Take your seats,” Omar commanded. The guests hurried to their places, while Rafe and I remained kneeling by Cosmo.
“Losing a pet is hard, I know,” the queen said with feigned sympathy. “But you shouldn’t let it ruin your evening.”
Omar gestured to a handler to collect Cosmo. “It’s easier if you don’t think of them as human.”
Rafe’s jaw trembled as he lifted his gaze. I’d seen him angry but never like this — never so savage. He rose and closed in on Omar. “He was a little kid and you murdered him.”
“That’s funny, coming from a hunter,” Omar sneered. “Or doesn’t it count as murder when you’re getting paid to kill them? Now, if you want to do what’s best for you — and you strike me as someone who always does — you’ll shut your mouth and sit down.”
In a single movement, Rafe lifted a knife from a table, flipped it in his hand, and slashed Omar across the stomach. “Do I pass the test?” he asked coldly as the head handler staggered back. “I gutted the feral.”