Last Kiss Goodnight

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