She must not have caught his words, because she launched into a desperate rumble of words. "I give as much as I'm able, and I sacrifice as much as I'm able, and I sometimes endanger myself, and yet no one thinks twice about ruining my life further. So, fine, whatever. I'll go with you. I can't stop you from escaping without using your injuries against you."
"Thank you," he said, and he meant it.
"But when you're captured, and you will be," she continued, "I'll be sure to mention how you overpowered me. The last man who laid a hand on me lost it. Jecis chopped it right off. And then, to really prove his point, he chopped off the other one. And I won't even mention what will be done to me!"
"How kind of you." As she spoke, he kept a firm grip on her and ushered her to Kitten's cage. "But nothing will be done to you. I'll make sure of it."
From the otherworlders, the demands for freedom became pleas for help. As loud as they were, another guard would soon be called. He didn't want to waste precious time having Vika free them. Although . . . if Jecis and company discovered Solo's abduction of Vika, they'd have other people to chase, other tracks to follow, buying Solo more of the time he needed.
Cruel of him? Maybe. But also a mercy. They would be free. If the situation were reversed, he would want to be released for any reason, even that one.
He switched direction, approaching the cage closest to him.
"Thank you, Blue Eyes," Vika said, her tone dripping with relief. She must assume he intended to walk back into his own prison. "Thank you. You won't regret this. I have plans, and if you can just hold out for--"
"My name is Solo," he interjected, making sure she was looking up to watch his lips. She had plans? What kind of plans? And was she fond of men with blue eyes?
That last question irritated him greatly. Why should he care?
"Solo." A grin lifted the corners of her lips. "Nice to meet you."
He would have sworn the sun had just broken through a thick shield of rain clouds, lighting her entire face. He wanted her to smile every second of every day . . . but her soft amusement died a quick death the moment he stopped in front of the Mec's cage.
Dread radiated from her. "You're going to free everyone, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Trust me. You don't want to do that. Please!"
"I must," he repeated.
Though she tugged and tugged and tugged, he forced her to place her thumb against the lock. The moment the two halves parted, the Mec burst free. As overjoyed as he was, his skin glowed a bright blue. Foolish otherworlder. He would never be able to hide that way.
"You're all dead," Vika said, emotionless. "You, me, all of them. We're all as dead as . . . things that are dead."
"I will protect you." He stumbled over his own feet and barely managed to right himself. But he meant those words with every fiber of his being. He wanted her safe. Now and al-- Oh, no. He wasn't going there. He wanted her safe. For now.
He stopped, peered into her eyes, and again said, "I will protect you." This time he added, "I vow it."
She didn't jolt, as any other would have, and that astonished him. Maybe it was because she couldn't hear his voice, he reasoned. Maybe it was because he was drugged and in such a weakened condition. Whatever. Didn't really matter, he supposed. A vow was a vow, and he'd just tied himself to her.
A sigh slipped from her and she nodded. "Okay. I'll trust you."
Solo walked her to the next cage, and this time she offered no resistance whatsoever.
"Hey, you. Stop," a guard shouted in the distance, and Solo wasn't sure if the command was issued to him or the Mec.
Either way, there was no time to liberate the others. Kitten, yes, but not the others. He would have to come back for them. He dragged Vika to the girl's cage, and she placed her thumb against the lock's ID without any prompting from him.
Kitten raced to his side. "Let's do this thing."
"Quiet," Vika said, a desperate quality to her voice. "Please. We don't want them to catch us."
"You be quiet!" Kitten snarled, reaching for her. "Better yet, keep talking. I'll silence you myself for what you allowed to happen to me."
Solo spun Vika out of Kitten's reach. "Don't threaten her," Solo told the otherworlder. He wasn't sure what he'd do to her if she did it again. He only knew anger was already budding inside him--an uncontrollable anger. One that, when unleashed, would be unstoppable.
"Fine," Kitten muttered. "But I have a problem with her, and one day I'm going to catnip the hell out of her."
"Not without permission from me." Permission he would never give.
Jaw clenched, he lumbered forward with the women at his sides, the rest of the otherworlders hurtling curses at him . . . curses that were fading in volume, not just because he was moving farther away but because the strength of the otherworlders' emotions were engaging the cuffs and causing drugs to be pumped through their systems. They were dropping swiftly, as though Solo had targeted them for a job.
He quickened his step, trying to keep his own emotions under control.
He only made it a few more feet before a stocky man rounded a corner.
"Matas!" Solo heard the Targon shout. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you so dead!"
Not just a shout, but a spew, as if the name were a terrible curse. Bars rattled. The ground shook.
Matas. Finally they met. He'd been at the whipping. Had been the one to hand the weapon to Jecis. The one to grin the widest as every blow was delivered.
But there was no time for a proper meet and greet. As Solo shifted directions, the male zeroed in on him. Black mist rose from the male's shoulders in thick, writhing coils. Evil, Solo knew. As many criminals as he'd targeted throughout the years, he'd seen such evil before. Slightly crooked teeth flashed in a scowl as the man withdrew a gun from the waist of his pants and squeezed the trigger.
Solo twisted so that his body completely blocked the females. Fresh pain bloomed in his shoulder, and his vision instantly hazed.
Vika released a bloodcurdling scream that joined the chant of failed again, failed again, failed again suddenly echoing in his head. He collapsed, no longer able to hold himself upright, and because he still had a grip on both Vika and Kitten, the two females went down with him. He managed to tuck them both underneath him, still determined to use his body as a shield in case the male decided to open fire.
He--
--knew nothing more, for darkness had eaten him alive.
Or as dead as things that were dead.
Thirteen
Catch the little foxes for us, the little foxes that are ruining the vineyards, while our vineyards are in blossom.
--SONG OF SOLOMON 2:15
MATAS HAD SHOT SOLO. Matas had really and truly shot Solo. Blood had splashed on Vika as Solo had fallen . . . had poured over her when he'd landed and tucked her underneath him. To protect her. Her. His enemy. Just as he'd promised. Kitten was struggling under his weight, trying to free herself, but he wasn't helping her.
Was he dead?
Please don't be dead.
Hand trembling, Vika reached up and felt for Solo's pulse. It was thready, but there. He lived. Relief bombarded her--just as Matas yanked her out from under Solo's massive weight.
Glaring down at her, he snapped, "Remove the bullet from the beast. We don't want your father's precious main attraction to die, do we?"
"N-o."
He kicked Solo in the side, rolling him to his decimated back and freeing Kitten.
The Teran jumped up, ready to bolt, but wily as he was, Matas managed to grab her by the waist before she'd taken more than a step.
"Let me go!" Kitten snarled.
"After I've had a little fun with you."
"Careful with her," Vika commanded, her blood flashing cold. "Please. She's my charge, and I'm responsible for her."
Kitten paused, gazing at Vika with wide-eyed shock.
Icy calculation from Matas, as though Vika was giving him exactly what he'd wanted. "You'll owe me
," he said, then carted the struggling Kitten to her cage.
Vika tripped her way to the medical supplies she'd brought to tend Solo after his whipping. She returned and, though her trembling had increased substantially, managed to do as Matas had commanded.
Solo's chest was more crimson than bronze, with a quarter-size hole just over his heart. Tears tracked down her cheeks, blurring his image. How much could one man endure in a single day before he died? she wondered as she wrapped his entire chest with a thick bandage.
"Good enough," Matas said. Though he was strong enough to carry Solo, he opted not to, instead dragging the otherworlder to his prison and ruining what little good Vika had done to both his back and his chest.
I'm so sorry, she thought, fighting sobs. The night wasn't supposed to end this way.
Dark eyes pinned her in place, mocking her for her sorrow. "Are you happy with yourself?"
"No."
"Good. Your father wants to talk to you." Matas grabbed her by the wrist and tugged her away from the clearing.
All too soon, Jecis's trailer came into view. Her father waited at the door and motioned her inside. She offered no protest, but she did stop, unable to take another step on her own. Her feet were simply too heavy.
Matas picked her up and carried her inside. To mask her growing sense of fear, she gazed around the home that no longer bore any hint of her mother's presence. Like all the other circus vehicles, the trailer boasted metal walls; multiple padlocks lined the seam of the only door. There were no windows.
However, unlike the others--excluding hers--this one boasted brand-new furniture. There was a plush reclining chair, a leather couch, a projector television, and holo-images of Audra dancing in every corner. Multihued pillows were strewn around a faux fireplace, forming a small alcove that would have been pretty if not for the bear-skin rug that was stretched out in front of it. A rug courtesy of Zoey.
Yes, Jecis had skinned Vika's precious bear. Actually, he'd put all of her beloved animals to "good use" rather than selling them. A "gift" to Vika. Sammie's ostrich feathers had been made into hats and tails for a group of performers. Dobi the tiger and Righty the ape were stuffed and on display in the main tent. Gus the zebra, Angie the horse, Gabby the camel, and Barney the llama had been dipped in some sort of alien metal and turned into a carousel. Mini the elephant had been hollowed out and dipped in the same metal, now an enzyme spout between the two public bathrooms at the circus, where people could wash their hands.
Vika could hardly bear to think about what Jecis had done to One Day.
Beyond the living area, there was a queen-size bed. Audra currently lounged in the center, the bejeweled covers puffed around her. Grinning, she sipped a glass of brandy. One of the spiders etched into her arm began to move, crawling higher and higher, until finally resting on her shoulder.
The tattoos on Audra's body had come to life a few months ago, after she'd begun her training sessions with Matas.
Audra loathed Vika, and enjoyed watching her punishments. But then, Vika kind of deserved all that loathing. Audra, Vika, and their friend Dolly had grown up together, inseparable, sisters in every way that mattered until Vika's mother died, and Jecis demanded all of Vika's spare time.
We'll be together forever, you and I. You will never abandon me. I'm the only one you can ever trust. The only one who will ever love you. Never forget.
Every chance she could, Vika had snuck away to spend time with her favorite girls. The three of them had been playing with the animals, laughing hysterically at the noises Zoey made while she napped, when Dolly had accidentally shut Vika's hand in the door of the cage.
Jecis found out and raged, saying the punishment had to fit the crime. Dolly had hurt Vika's hand, and so Jecis had removed Dolly's. When the girl's parents protested, Jecis exiled the entire family.
That's when Vika called Audra terrible names and even slapped her, hoping to send her away and save her from Jecis's wrath. Looking back, she knew she had handled things poorly.
There was no undoing the past, she knew that, but she had later sought to make restitution and apologized. Audra had refused to forgive.
Matas eased Vika into a chair in front of the trailer's kitchenette. He rubbed two of his knuckles under her chin and smiled smugly. Then he left, the door slamming shut behind him.
He shot Solo. Just shot him as easily as if the otherworlder was the main course for dinner, and now he dares to smile at me?
Would Solo live through the night?
Would she find his dead body in the morning, flies and ants covering him?
Would she even be capable of walking in the morning?
Jecis moved to the other side of the counter and took his time cutting and lighting the end of a cigar. Even with the thick slab of granite between them, dark smoke billowed around her, and she had to hold her breath to stop herself from coughing.
Jecis leaned forward and latched his hard fingers onto her jaw to keep her attention on him. His eyelids narrowed to tiny slits.
"Nothing to say to me?" he began.
"I'm . . . sorry," she said, shifting in her seat. It was the truth. She was sorry he was the man he was, sorry Solo was here, sorry for everything that had happened that she hadn't prevented.
"I'm not talking about tonight, I'm talking about this morning," he said, surprising her with the calmness of his voice. He released her.
"I--I--" Had no reply that would encourage that sense of calm.
The only saving grace was that she hadn't challenged his authority in front of witnesses. The way the circus worked, Jecis called the shots and no one was allowed to question him. Ever. Anyone who voiced an objection would find himself--or herself--fighting Jecis in front of every member of the family, and being made a very bloody example. If that person survived, he and all of his family would be kicked out. Unless he had a pretty wife or daughter, of course. They were allowed to stay and marry other men.
"Do you like Matas, Vika?" he asked casually. Too casually.
Wait. What? "No." Violently she shook her head.
"He told me you've already given yourself to him."
Outrage stormed through her, making her stupidly blurt out, "He lies! I promise you, he lies." She had never been with a man, and, to be honest, had never had a desire to change that.
Until Solo. Until she'd kissed him.
But even then, she wouldn't. Having sex meant sharing a part of yourself with another person, binding your body to theirs . . . perhaps even your soul to theirs. Sex was total vulnerability, just another way for a man to dominate a woman.
No, thank you.
"There's no reason to deny what happened," Jecis said.
"But--"
"I must admit, I was upset at first. However, after some thought, I find that I like the idea of grandchildren."
Oxygen congealed in her lungs. This had to be a trick. She'd yelled at her father earlier today, shoved him, and had gone to the clearing without permission. Again! Yet he talked of grandchildren?
A puff on the cigar, a haze of smoke, and for a moment, only a moment, she saw a mask descend over his features. One with sharp bones, red eyes, and fanged teeth.
"Matas is right," he said. "You have too much time on your hands, and that time gets you into trouble." Irritation infused his tone. "Just so you know, the Mec has already been found. Matas left us to take care of him."
A tide of remorse joined Vika's anger, but she somehow managed to keep her expression blank. Can't give a reaction. In circus terms, "taking care" of a person meant "torturing and killing."
Poor Rainbow. He'd reviled her more than all the others, and he'd even tormented her more than any of the others combined, but she'd admired his spirit. No matter what had been done to him, his strength had never waned.
"What will be done with the other one?" she asked, and she wasn't quite able to hide her emotions this time. There was a quiver in her voice. "The new one?"
His lips pursed with distaste, and he
said, "He was shot. I think that's penalty enough, don't you?"
"Yes." Thank you, thank you, thank you. "That's kind of you. Daddy."
A softening around his eyes. "In the morning, I'll have Matas remove the Mec's cage until his replacement can be found." He placed the cigar in the ashtray, his gaze sharpening like a blade. "Now, then. Let's talk about what happened tonight."
Every muscle in her body tensed. He was going to ask how Solo had gotten to the Mec, and why she'd failed to scream for help, and she had no answer for him. Not one that would satisfy him.
"Do you recall what happened to you when you left the circus all those years ago?" he asked.
Another yes slipped from her.
It was a few months after her father had purchased the "perfect candidates for his zoo." By that time, she and Mara had become friends, and she'd wanted so badly for the girl to be happy. Mara, who missed her husband desperately. Mara, whose pregnant belly had grown larger every day.
Vika had bonded with her at first sight, really, the fragile-looking female reminding her so much of herself. Mara had said that, once she was free, Vika could live with her, that her husband was a mighty warrior and that he would protect her.
Vika had freed Mara and all the others--but Mara had abandoned her, never showing up at their meeting spot. And then, Jecis had found Vika and the rest of his menagerie, all but Mara, within a week.
They were killed.
She was beaten.
But even though she'd lost her hearing that night, she'd been glad to see him. There was a dark, dangerous world out there, one she hadn't been prepared for. One that had nearly chewed her up and spit out her bones.
She'd had no protection, no money, and no one had known her father, so no one had known to fear his wrath. She'd had to walk the streets, begging people for food and money. Men had called her terrible names and had tried to drag her into abandoned alleys. She'd had to hide in trash bins. Fear of the vast unknown had tormented her mind constantly, and, well, it had been too much to bear.
All she'd known was the life inside the circus. Back then, they'd traveled from city to city in their trailers. They'd stayed in each location for two weeks, the first few days used for setup and promotion, Audra and the other attractive females going into town to spread the word and lure the males. After that, the shows began.