Last Kiss Goodnight (Otherworld Assassin) (12 page)

One step, that was all it took, and the spirit could leave the body and enter that other realm.

The newest prisoner should have reminded her of the evil side, but he hadn’t. Quite the opposite, in fact.

She’d returned to her trailer, and waited for someone to deliver her breakfast. A few minutes after that, she’d snuck out and returned to the zoo, where she’d thrown the food in his cage. Had he sampled the synbacon, biscuits, or cubes of honey? He’d been awake. He’d seen her, but he hadn’t tried to catch the burlap sack, and if he’d said anything, she wasn’t aware of it. She’d kept her attention away from him. Had they locked gazes, he might have tried to speak to her and she would have been tempted to stay.

She owed him another apology, after all. He’d been at his weakest, and she’d taken terrible advantage of him. It was just . . . wait. Was she going to do this? Was she going to think about the kiss now? When she’d avoided the topic all night?

Yes. She was.

Why had she pressed her lips against his?
Why
? That wasn’t like her. Desire wasn’t something she experienced, and yet she had been drawn to him on a primitive level. An undeniable level. Now, a part of her she’d thought destroyed long ago, a needy little girl who’d dreamed of a handsome Prince Charming coming to rescue her, kept stretching . . . stretching . . . finally awakening completely. Only, this prince was alone, just like her. He needed a friend, just like her.

Dangerous thoughts. Thoughts that had once gotten her in trouble. First, she could only count on herself, and she knew it. Second, she had befriended one of the first otherworlders to be captured, had actually
grown to love and adore the girl. Had snuck out every night to spend with her, with her sweet Mara, and they had talked, shared stories about their lives.

Eventually, Vika had freed Mara and all the others.

And she had suffered terribly for her actions.

She knew better than to travel down that road again. And yet, all she’d seemed to care about was that the newcomer wasn’t used to hunger, and more than that, he was in for a horrible surprise when the circus opened in a few hours. She’d wanted him to experience
something
nice today.

If he tossed away the food, fine. His loss. She would have done a good deed, and she could—

The overhead lights flickered, and she groaned. She didn’t have a bell; instead, the lighting system was rigged to alert her to a waiting guest.

Her stomach cramped as she stood and shakily turned the knob. Thankfully, it wasn’t her father come to chastise her for her disobedience. Unfortunately, it was Matas, her “bodyguard,” and he radiated menace.

Meeting his gaze, she snapped, “What do you want?”

“Let me in,” he demanded with his patented scowl. He had tousled dark hair and eyes the color of black ice. He possessed a dusty complexion, and he was big of chest and arm—and pride and ferocity.

Today he’d opted to wear pants but no shirt, revealing the thick silver barbell hanging from his left nipple. He was certain it made him look chilled. Was that the right word? Cold? Cool? To Vika, it made him look like a hammer. Wrench? Whatever! He looked like some kind of tool.

“Move aside, Vika.”

Act casual.
“No. This is my home. You aren’t welcome.”
Act brave.
“So go on. Leave.”

“I will . . . after I’ve had my say.” He shoved past her, and at the moment of contact, bugs seemed to jump from him and onto her, burrowing past her skin and into her veins.

A far different sensation from her contact with the otherworlder.

She tried not to cringe as she turned and faced him. “Make it fast.”

“Why? Do you have somewhere to be?” he asked just to be cruel.

She wasn’t surprised; he was a cruel man. Oh, he would never hurt her physically or anything like that. He was too afraid of her father. But he liked to poke at her in other ways.

He plopped onto her couch and fingered one of the necklaces hanging from a bowl on the side table. “We’re going to talk. Understand?”

“I do.” And she could just imagine how the conversation would go.

When are you going to stop being so stubborn and marry me?
he would ask.

Never,
she would reply.

Don’t be ridiculous. When? I’m the best thing that could ever happen to a girl like you.

A girl like her. Deaf. Defective.
After I’m dead, I’ll consider it. Maybe.

He would curse. She would tremble.

So, yes, she
was
scared of more than just Jecis.

“I’ll kick things off,” she said, refusing to back down. “Have you forgotten rule number one?”

A muscle ticked below his eye, a clear indication of his growing anger. “No.”

“And it is?”

“No touching precious Vika. Ever.”

“And do you recall touching me on your way in?”

“Yes,” he gritted.

“Here’s another question. Do you recall rule number two?”

His fingers curled around the diamonds, and she was surprised the stones weren’t ground into a fine powder. “If I break rule number one, I have to punch myself in the face or you’ll tattle to your father.”

She waited, blinking innocently. Jecis was the only power she held over this man or any other, and she wielded it often and severely.

Matas gave his jaw a pop.

“Well?”

Scowling, he slapped himself.

“Good boy,” she said with all the sugar sweetness she could muster. She had seen him with other women, and knew he had attended the Jecis Lukas school of discipline. He wasn’t afraid to punch to assert authority and prove a (stupid) point when angry . . . or even mildly disturbed.

“Now it’s my turn,” he said. “When are you going to marry me?”

See? “I’m thinking . . . never. Is that good for you?”

A flash of annoyance. “I’m the reason your father’s people hate you, the reason even the otherworlders are
turning against you. A word here, a word there, and the poison spreads. Marry me, and I’ll make them love you.”

How dare he! “What have you said?” she demanded.

He waved the question away. “I want you, Vika, and I will have you.”

Actually, he was second-in-command of the circus and he wanted to be first. He didn’t yet understand that would never happen. Jecis would never abdicate power, and Matas would never be strong enough to take it from him.

Before becoming ringmaster, Jecis had performed the magic act. After becoming ringmaster, he taught Matas the secrets of the dark arts, the two spending countless hours poring through books, practicing what they read, and even testing their powers on some of the patrons of the circus.

In comparison, the two men weren’t even in the same league.

“You’ll never have me,” she said with a shake of her head. “You repulse me.”

“Is that so?” Suddenly his shadow moved—while his body remained still—expanding over his shoulders . . . splitting apart, slithering in different directions, each gloomy limb inching closer to her.

Heart pounding, Vika squared her shoulders. She knew what those shadows were, recognized them from that other realm. They were evil. Evil so real, so vile it had taken some kind of living form.

Her father carried the same essence. In fact, that was where Matas had picked it up. She’d noticed it a few days after they had begun training together.

“That’s so. Now leave,” she snapped.

He grinned, all pearly whites and menace. “Make me.”

The cramping started up again. “You didn’t used to be this way, you know.” Like her father, he had changed over the years—from a somewhat affable young man who enjoyed sharing cotton candy with her after every show to
this,
demanding and depraved, capable of any despicable deed.

“I know,” he said, and he didn’t sound as if he cared. “Now I’m better.”

“Not to me.”

“That’s because you haven’t yet evolved. But I could make you powerful, Vika. Think of it. I could make you powerful enough to kill your father and rule this circus by my side. I—”

“Turned Rasa into a freak.” He’d used his magic to transform her beard hair into hundreds of little snakes.

He shrugged, unconcerned. “She was heard laughing about my act, and needed to be taught a lesson.”

“And Audra?” He’d shared his “power” with her, too.

“I never cursed her. She came to your father and asked for the same gift I’m now offering you. He told me to work with her, and I did. Every day she begs for more of what I have.”

His sneering tone made her think he gave Audra more than lessons about black magic.

“I want nothing to do with you
or
your magic.”

She would
never
allow herself to slide into the cesspool Jecis and Matas shared. A hunger and thirst for money and the power he’d mentioned had ruined them
both, rotted their souls. And yes, she’d always heard that the greedy bred the greedier and the beaters bred even crueler beaters—but she was breaking the cycle.

Long ago, Vika had decided not to be like the men in her life. She always told the truth. She refused to bemoan her situation (very often). She refused to hate the people around her. She forced herself to be kind. That didn’t mean she had to like, accept, or support what people did to her. She knew it was possible to love someone and not support their actions. She knew she could fight against what was done to her, and always did, to the best of her ability, without being cruel.

And, like anything else of worth, such a decision required work. It was hard to be truthful when she knew a lie would temporarily save her. It was hard to walk in love when anger demanded she run in hate. It was hard work to be nice when she was hurting, and even harder to hang on to hope when she was feeling abandoned by, well, everyone. But really, at the end of the day, when she rested her head on her pillow, she knew she’d chosen the better road. They had to wade through the mud. She remained clean.

“Now,” she said, “if you’ll excuse me, I’d like a little alone time to replay this conversation through my mind and laugh at you. Actually, even if you won’t, I’d like a little alone time. Enjoy your day. Or not. Mostly not.” Okay, so she wasn’t ever nice to Matas. But then, even nice girls weren’t to play with evil.

She opened the door and waited.

He slowly unfolded from the couch and stuffed the diamond necklace he’d been fondling into his pocket.

She almost protested. Almost.

She might despise what the jewelry represented, but every piece was going to a great cause. In a year, she would have enough money in trinkets and charms to buy a new identity and a home hidden high in the mountains of New Colorado. A place she’d dreamed of owning for the last four years. A place no one would be able to take away from her.

Without the identity, Jecis would be able to find her. Without the home, she would have to get a job to pay rent, which would put her under someone else’s control, as well as on the grid.

Plus, the time gave her a chance to look for the key to the cuffs the otherworlders wore. Cuffs that had to be removed, or the captives could be tracked to the ends of the earth—and maybe even other planets.

“If Jecis catches you with that,” she said as if she was happy at the prospect, “you’ll be in trouble.”

“He won’t catch me. It’ll be gone within the hour.” Matas swept out of the trailer, making sure to brush against her.

Shuddering as the bugs once again seemed to jump on her, she slammed the door.

Ten

No weapon formed against you will prevail.

—ISAIAH 54:17

V
IKA HAD TOSSED HIM
a bag of food. The knowledge held Solo immobile. She’d tossed him a bag of food, and she’d done it even with fear in her eyes.

Why fear?

What—or who—was she afraid of?

Just as before, when the two otherworlders had harmed her, Solo experienced an almost overwhelming urge to chew through the bars of his cage. Not that such an action would work, he now knew. But just then, the urge had nothing to do with earning his freedom and everything to do with slaying whatever dragons plagued her.

Desperate to avenge your keeper?

Maybe. He’d done the vengeance thing countless times before and had never felt better afterward, only worse. He wondered if he would feel different on behalf of a female.
His
female.

No, not his.

“Jecis is gonna beat her but good for running through the zoo,” the tobacco-spitting male from yesterday said
gleefully from the distance. “He’s on his way right now. Do you know how badly I want to watch?”

Solo’s ears twitched.

The other male from yesterday chortled. “As badly as me, I’m betting.”

“It’ll be a shame, though, seeing that pretty face all busted up.”

“It’s always busted up.”

“True.”

A pause. “Okay, here’s a question for you. There’s a gun to your head and you have to do Vika or the bearded lady. But if you pick Vika, Jecis gets to do your wife. Who do you pick?”

“Jecis can have my wife, the little witch. I’ll take Vika for sure.”

Vika. They were discussing Vika. Jecis was going to beat his own daughter? His “heart?” Surely not. Surely the man would spank her, and nothing more. But the males had mentioned a busted face, hadn’t they.