eyes was swollen shut, and there was a knot on his jaw.
They each wore summer clothes: tanks, lightweight pants. Yet still their corruption managed to cloak them. The misshapen skull she’d glimpsed inside Big Red stared at her through her father’s eyes. Dark shadows hovered over Matas’s shoulders, thicker than before.
“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “No.”
“Thought you would have a better life without me, did you?” Jecis said, a hint of madness in his tone. Madness, fury, and evil. Pure evil. “Thought some disgusting otherworlder would care for you in ways I could not?”
He had no idea she could hear him, she realized. A fact she could use to her advantage. She just had to figure out how.
“Well?” he demanded.
“Yes,” she said, happy to discover there wasn’t a tremble in her voice. “I did. I do.”
Surprise widened his eyes, and he stomped toward her.
“You never loved me.”
“I gave you everything.”
“You gave me nothing but pain and sorrow.”
He raised his hand to hit her, but rather than back down, rather than plead for mercy he would never show, she lifted her chin. The surprise returned, now magnified, and he slowly lowered his arm.
“You’ve changed,” he said, and he didn’t sound happy about it.
“I have.” And she would never go back to the way she’d been. She had traveled too far down this current road, had gone from cowardly to courageous. Even looking back, she couldn’t see where she’d started. “How did you get here?”
“A little man, Dr. E, came to me. He told me where to find you and vowed to empower me in ways I could only dream of . . . if only I vowed to kill you.”
He flashed his teeth in a parody of a smile. “I did. And you deserve to die, after what you did to me. But first,” he said, “I’m going to teach you the same lesson I taught your mother: Leave me and suffer.”
He motioned Matas forward.
Her former guard walked over, bent down, and, straining under the muscled weight, hefted Solo over his shoulder. So badly Vika wanted to lash out, to do something, anything, to save him. But she didn’t. Not yet. Right now it was three against one, and she had no way to transport Solo. Solo, who had not moved or made a sound since falling. What had her father done to him?
“With the power Dr. E has given me,” Jecis said, “I can create stronger solar flares. I can choose where I end up,
Suddenly white lightning speared the air just in front of her, creating a split in the ether. The edges were drenched in fog, but through the center she could see . . . outside the cabin. Cold, wintry air even blustered inside the garage.
Jecis jerked her through, and a second later, she was standing outside, in the exact spot she’d seen. Matas and Audra followed, and the pocket of air closed behind them.
“One more, and you’ll be home,” Jecis said. Once again he raised his arm, mumbling, and once again lightning lanced down, creating a crack in the air. A curtain that had just been opened, revealing another location on the other side.
Revealing the nightmare she’d left behind. The circus. Only, now it was surrounded by sunshine and light.
Just before Jecis could tug her through, a ferocious roar resounded through the night.
“What was that?” Audra whispered.
“Come,” Jecis commanded, his gaze roving the distance.
The injured white tiger leapt from the darkness and slammed into him before he could take a single step, propelling him off his feet and onto the snowy ground. He maintained his hold on Vika and took her with him. On impact, oxygen burst from her lungs.
Her father howled with pain as the tiger bit into his arm, dragging him several feet, shaking him. Finally Jecis released Vika, but only to throw a bolt of lightning at the tiger, causing the animal to fly backward.
“No!” she screamed, attempting to jump up but slipping on the ice.
A bleeding Jecis stood, grabbed her, and jerked her through the new opening. This time, Matas and Audra didn’t walk through but ran, practically pushing her out of the way.
Another roar, and she could hear the frantic clomp of the tiger’s paws against the ice. He was running, determined to make another play for her father. But Jecis reached back and waved his hand, and the air sealed shut, blocking the creature from view and preventing him from entering the circus.
Just like he would use Solo against Vika.
“Home,” Jecis said, and spread his arms.
Vika breathed in . . . out . . . as she looked around, the sights that greeted her caused her stomach to churn with sickness. White tents, Big Red, trailers, games and rides, and performers walking in every direction, setting up for tomorrow’s show. The cold had been replaced by sultry heat, and the mountains with flatlands.
“After you left,” Jecis said, “we changed locations, thinking you meant to bring the authorities to my door. Thankfully, we were only gone for a few days since the little man had approached me and showed me a better way.”
An avalanche of sounds suddenly assaulted her ears, and she barely stopped herself from cringing. Voices, so many voices. Chatter, laughing, arguing. The grind of metal against metal. The squeal of tires. The crunch of stones beneath shoes.
Jecis pushed Vika at Audra. “Lock her in her trailer. I’ll deal with her once my wounds have been bandaged. And if she escapes, I’ll blame you, my darling Audra.” With barely a pause, he looked to Matas and said, “And you. Put the beast back in his cage.”
Thirty-one
SOLO AWOKE WITH A jolt, panic instantly infusing him. He remembered the cabin, and the fiery skull propelling toward him. But after that? Nothing.
“Vika!” he shouted, bounding to his feet. Where was she? Had the skull gotten her, too? “Vika!”
“Calm down, warrior.”
The Targon’s voice penetrated his mind, and he spun. The sun shone brightly in the sky, and he had to blink rapidly to focus. Through familiar metal bars he could see the otherworlder, his caged neighbor.
Bars. Cage.
Dread beating at him, he looked around. He was back in the cage, he realized. Back at the circus, back in the menagerie. He’d . . . he’d been captured. The rest of the otherworlders were watching him. Some with anger. Some with pity. Kitten, with hope.
“Don’t despair,” she said. “You did it once, something no one else has ever done, and you can do it
