Last Kiss Goodnight

Vika was only to care for the otherworlders after the patrons left. That way, the townies never saw her, never tried to harm her, and heads never had to roll. More importantly, the circus never had to move to a new location sooner than planned, simply to avoid the law.

Jecis wanted Vika safe—from everyone but him.

When will you learn, Vika? There cannot be two masters in one house. You do what I say, when I say, or you suffer. I love you, but I cannot make allowances for you, just because you’re my only child.

A father who loved his daughter would not beat her. A father who loved his daughter would not maim and exile one of her only two friends, forcing her to give up the other for fear of watching the girl receive the same treatment. A father who loved his daughter would not murder her precious pets.

I just want to live in peace.

And yet, still she hadn’t stayed inside today. She had spent five minutes out in the open, running through the zoo to check on the newcomer. Five minutes, that was all, but in her father’s opinion that was five minutes too long.

A shudder nearly rocked her off her feet, and she tumbled onto the couch. How she wished Jecis was the man he used to be, the man who had listened to her stories about butterflies and tucked her in at night, but everything had changed when her grandfather died and he took over the circus.

The place had been in horrible shape, facing financial ruin. Money had quickly become Jecis’s only concern and he’d begun selling drugs and women in between acts. He’d had to do terrible things to keep his employees in line and his secrets in the dark, and those things had destroyed the man she’d known. But his pockets had filled, and that had been all that mattered to him. Within a year, he’d turned the place around—and his own terrible transformation had been complete.

If he found out what she’d done today, he would punish her for placing herself in danger.

If. Ha. He would. Too many people had seen her, just like she’d known they would.

Why had she done it, then?

There was no need to ponder; she already knew the answer. She’d done it because she couldn’t get the prisoner out of her mind. A thousand times she had remembered how she’d had her hands on him. Her bare hands. Male to female, heat to heat. A thousand more, she had remembered how she’d had her mouth on him—and just how much she’d liked it.

Suddenly she felt the vibration of someone’s . . . scream against her skin? Oh, yes. A scream. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She nearly threw open her door to peek outside.

The newest addition to the zoo had finally reached the end of his tolerance.

Sympathy welled inside her. All night he’d desperately fought to free himself, yet he’d made no progress. Fearing her father would hear his curses and decide to act, she had waited nearby, ready to doctor his injuries. But Jecis had never appeared, and the newcomer had continued to struggle, until the realization that he was stuck in the cage had at last settled in. Anger had contorted his features and his skin had taken on that crimson cast. His teeth and claws had grown, and though she should have run away in fear, the alteration had fascinated Vika.

Because . . . no matter how much his body had changed, his eyes had remained the same: big and blue, with those long dark lashes better suited to a woman. Innocent eyes. Haunting eyes.

Otherworldly eyes.

Like everyone else, Vika knew about the inhabited planets out there. But unlike everyone else, she also knew there was an unseen world operating here, on earth, all around them. And it amazed her how close the two worlds actually were. As many times as she had fought death, she had caught glimpses of that world and knew that there was absolute good and absolute evil—and both were as real as she was.

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.