Last Kiss Goodnight

Thirteen

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.

Always lookouts had been stationed on the roads, and if the cops were spotted, they were stopped. If the authorities couldn’t be paid off, the performers packed up as much of the equipment as possible and blazed a trail into the next town.

Now, Jecis had another way to travel. One Vika despised. One she would never again have to endure once she left this place. And when she was settled into her new life and certain she couldn’t be found, she would even help the police hunt her father and shut the circus down once and for all.

“And do you ever want to leave the circus again?” he asked silkily.

“I don’t want to leave the circus,” she said. Again, it was the truth. She wanted to stay. For now. Once she had enough money . . . once she’d found the key to the cuffs, her answer would change.

“Do you think that ugly otherworlder you fed, the one you watched while the humans were out and about, no less, will take care of you once he’s free of his cage?”

He knew she had broken the rule a second time. She gulped.

Solo will take care of you, you know. He really will protect you.

The voice penetrated her mind, and she gasped. It was the voice from that morning. The good one. The nice one.

“What?” her father demanded.

“I . . . I . . .”

“Never mind. I asked you a question. Do you think the otherworlder will take care of you?” her father insisted.

She . . . did, she realized. He would take care of her. For a little while, at least. After all, he had used his body as a shield for hers. A man willing to do that wasn’t a man who would throw a helpless girl into a pit of alligators. But that wasn’t what Jecis wanted to hear.

“He’s a prisoner, Daddy,” she said. “He can’t take care of anyone.”

Once again, the “Daddy” worked. His expression softened, and he failed to realize she hadn’t exactly answered his question. “No one will ever love you the way I do. No one will ever take care of you the way I do. Isn’t that right?”

She gave a barely discernable nod. No, no one else would ever “love” her this way. She would make sure of it.

Pacified, he settled into a chair and picked up his cigar. “Good. Then you realize the otherworlder would just as soon murder you in cold blood as take you with him, so there’s no reason to discuss this subject further.”

Before relief had time to work through her—no more punishment for her, either!—he added, “Now, for the next order of business.”

She racked her brain, trying to figure out what he was going to rant and rave about, but only drew a blank.

“Matas,” he said.

And she groaned.

“He wants to marry you.”

She linked her fingers, hoping to stop herself from twisting and wrinkling her shirt and revealing the depths of her sudden turmoil. “That’s too bad, because I don’t want to marry him.”

“He’ll treat you well. I’ll make sure of it.”

That sounded like—no, that was approval. “You’re actually considering this?” she gasped out.

“I am. He’s given me his word that he’ll never harm you, and that he will forever remain here at the circus with you. With me.”

Dark spots winked through her vision. A lump grew in her throat, threatening to cut off her supply of air. All of her fine plans were beginning to crash and burn around her. Her father was changing the very fabric of her existence, trying to rewrite the future she had mapped out for herself.

Worry not, the voice said. Evil will not win in the end.

Worry not? How could she stop from worrying?

Audra abandoned the bedroom and strutted into the kitchenette. She poured herself another drink, blew a tiny stream of fire over the top, and nibbled on a cracker as the flames died down, her hips swaying to a beat Vika would never hear.

Audra grinned when she realized Vika was watching her and said, “You might as well take Matas up on the offer. No one else will have you.”

Jecis sat up straighter and banged his fist into the counter, rattling the ashtray. “Anyone would be lucky to have her. She’s the daughter of a champion, and she will bear strong children. The problem has been finding a man worthy of her.”

A man he could control, he meant. A man who would keep her here, within reach, for the rest of her miserable life. A man who would occupy her time with one pregnancy after another, keeping her too busy to get into “trouble.”

“No,” she croaked. “I won’t do it.”

A treacherous light glittered in Jecis’s eyes—one she recognized. Danger was near. “I want this, darling little girl, and so you will do this. Audra will help you plan the wedding.”

“No,” she repeated, her mouth so dry her tongue felt like a strip of sandpaper. If Jecis insisted on going down this road, she would have to run away sooner rather than later, before she’d saved enough cash, before she’d found the key to the cuffs. But she would do it, no question.

Slowly her father pushed to his feet. He flattened his palms on the tabletop and leaned toward her. “You will marry him with a smile on your face, Vika, or I will give your treasures to Audra, and place the animals in someone else’s care. I will be forced to express my displeasure with you . . . over and over again. Do you understand?”