“No, he loves me.”
“He knows nothing of love! And neither do you, I think. Love protects. Love cherishes. Love lifts you up rather than tears you down. Love makes you fly, and
A flicker of sorrow, quickly gone. “Your beast is going to be the first to die, Vika. You can’t save him. No one can.”
No! She refused to accept such a thing. She
“One last chance,” she said, making a proper fist.
“Shut up, and—”
Vika slammed that proper fist into Audra’s nose.
The girl yelped as blood spurted from her, and she dropped the gun to clutch at the injured cartilage. Vika dove for the weapon, and when she straightened, she aimed the barrel at Audra’s chest.
Wide-eyed, Audra flattened herself against the door.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Vika said, “but I’ll do worse if necessary. Worse that will happen in three seconds, if you fail to move out of the way.”
“I don’t care,” Audra replied with a defiant shake of her head.
“One.”
“
“Two.”
The defiance drained, and tears welled in her eyes. Audra stepped out of the way.
Vika brushed past her and stepped into the sunlight. But before she’d taken three steps, X appeared on her shoulder, wringing his hands together.
Heart suddenly slamming against her ribs, she dove for cover. She knew better than to pause and question him. Good thing, too. The moment the ground was pressed against her back, she felt the vibration of footsteps. A few seconds later, she saw her father and Matas’s boots.
The pair disappeared inside the trailer. Several seconds passed.
So low. So like Jecis.
“What should I do?” she whispered.
She did, didn’t she? And it was brutal. It went against everything she’d ever believed. Or rather, everything she’d ever thought she had believed. Afterward, she would probably cry.
Probably? No. She would. But this was war. This wasn’t business as usual. Action had to be taken. Things had to be done. The strong could not trample on the weak and continue to reign.
The trailer shook and she barely silenced her gasp. Jecis had either punched the wall . . . or Audra. Two sets of boots again appeared, this time stomping away. She waited one minute, two, then rolled into the light.
“Yes,” she said, and stalked forward.
Thirty-two
YOU! WHAT HAVE YOU done with my daughter?” Jecis pounded to Solo’s cage and, with a spat of curses, jabbed at the button to pour sedatives through his system. Dr. E sat on the male’s shoulder, laughing. “I planned to wait, to kill you slowly, but I want her to hear your screams and come running. I want her to see what I do to you—and I want you to see what I do to her.”
Solo remained silent as he dropped to the ground.
“Matas,” the Targon snarled.
“Shut up,” the guard snarled in return.
“I’ll shut up the day I carve out your black heart and dance in your blood.”
Matas snorted, not the least bit intimidated. “Yeah, good luck with that.”
Jecis was too lost to his rage to notice the two men were arguing. And he was too lost to his rage to notice Solo wasn’t actually asleep. Because of that, he made the mistake of opening the door to the cage.
“Now,” Solo shouted, his jaw heavy but still workable.
In the process of stepping deeper into the enclosure, Jecis froze, the Targon taking control of his body. Every ounce of Solo’s strength was needed to pull himself into a sitting position, but he did it. His gaze met his enemy’s, and he smiled slowly, with relish.
Dr. E stopped laughing. “What’s going on? How are you doing this?”
Ignoring him, Solo said to Jecis, “Just so you know, the only one who will suffer today is you.”
Fear joined the rage in Jecis’s eyes. Solo could see the skull writhing beneath his skin, attempting to jerk out of the Targon’s control. Gritting his teeth, Solo kicked out his leg, nailing Jecis in the stomach and sending him propelling to the ground.
Dr. E vanished.
Solo was quick to follow his opponent, jumping out of the cage. Every action loosened his muscles and lifted some of the weight of the drugs. Now it was time for a little dirty pool. He threw his leg into another kick—nailing Jecis between the legs.
Air burst from the man’s mouth, but that was it, his only reaction.
“You’re free!” Kitten said, fist pumping the air. “I told you this would happen. Didn’t I tell you?”
“Let me out!” Criss shouted.
“Me too! Come on, man. Over here!”
The Bree Lian jumped up and down. “Beast Man! Over here!”
“Can’t . . . hold them much longer,” the Targon called. “Their magic . . . fighting me.”
Solo bent down and grabbed Jecis by the wrist. He dragged the man past an equally frozen Matas, and to the Targon’s cage, where he pressed Jecis’s thumb into the lock. A flash of white light, and the tumbler gave way.
The Targon burst from the cage and launched himself at Matas. That’s when he lost his hold on the bodies, both Matas and Jecis erupting into action.
Jecis jerked from Solo’s hold and rolled to his feet. There was no exchange of words. They simply dove toward each other, fists flying. Solo landed several punches, but he took one, too. The ensuing sting enraged him. What had Vika endured at this man’s hands over the years?
Rage . . . cold, harsh.
Drugs . . . drip, drip, dripping, trying to weaken.
He blocked a punch, ducked, and threw one, smashing into Jecis’s kidney. He heard a hiss, though he knew the man wasn’t out for the count. Far from it. The violence must have engaged his dark side, because the skull shot out, little gold flames appearing in the darkness as it tried to chomp on Solo. Just before contact, a giant version of X swooped in, catching the skull like a basketball and falling to the ground with it clutched to his chest.
Jecis unleashed a pained wail, as if the evil were attached to him, and he could feel its defeat. Solo struck, nailing him in the temple once, twice, three times. The man’s head rattled from side to side, but on Solo’s fourth swing, he managed to get his hands up and block.
Solo aimed lower. Contact. Again, air burst from Jecis’s mouth.
