From the corner of his eye, he saw that the Targon had Matas pinned to the ground. The shadows that had always hovered over Matas’s shoulder had stretched out and were biting and biting at the otherworlder, but the male paid them no heed. He continued to rain fists of fury into his opponent’s face. Again and again. Until it wasn’t just blood flinging in every direction. Until the shadows slowed . . . stilled . . . flopped to the ground and vanished.
Jecis used his distraction against him and landed another punch to his jaw. His head whipped to the side, and he went with the motion, dropping to his side and kicking up his legs. His boots knocked Jecis’s teeth together, sending him stumbling backward.
Solo straightened and followed him, grabbing him by the collar. Swollen, bloodshot eyes peered up at him.
“Kill me, and she’ll never forgive you,” Jecis spat.
No. He wouldn’t believe that.
Jecis’s body jerked, his eyes going wide. He fell to the side, but Solo maintained his grip, keeping him upright. He recognized gunfire when he heard it and held on to the man to use him as a shield if necessary. He tracked the noise with his gaze. Vika stood a few yards away, holding a smoking gun, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Solo loosened his fingers, intending to drop the man to the ground and race to her side, to gather her in his arms, to offer comfort, or whatever else she might need. What she’d done . . . all to protect him . . .
“My own daughter,” Jecis gasped out. “How could you?”
The shots came from a different direction, from behind Jecis, but still the man jumped each time. And as three sharp stings registered in Solo’s chest—all straight in the heart—he looked to find
“If I can’t have you,” the little man called, “no one can.”
The girl had shot Jecis, but the bullets had gone straight through him and into Solo. He finally dropped the man, but not to get to Vika. He no longer had the strength. The man responsible for his torment all these weeks flopped lifelessly to the ground, and Solo fell to his knees beside him.
“Solo!” Vika cried out, rushing to his side. Her hands patted at him, trying to stop the flow of blood. “You’ll heal, yes? You did before. Many times. I’ve watched you. You have to heal from this, too. Right?”
He heard a cry, watched as X collided with Dr. E, knocking Audra to the ground. As X and Dr. E fell, Dr. E’s body elongated, growing to the same size as X’s. Maybe he was seeing things.
Dizziness consumed him. Black dots wove through his vision. With every pump of his damaged heart, his life slipped away a little more. “Vika,” he managed to choke out as blood bubbled up in his throat.
“Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it,” she rushed out. “Just tell me!”
“Nothing to be . . . done.” His injuries were too severe. He’d caused this kind of damage in others. He’d seen the results too many times. He knew.
“There is!”
“Can’t lie . . . Vika . . . This is . . . it.” He struggled to keep his gaze on her as his fingers and toes grew cold.
X moved in, kneeling at his side. Still giant, as big as Solo. “Tell him good-bye, Vika.”
“What? No! Never.”
Solo pitched forward, no longer able to hold his own weight. Somehow, Vika managed to catch him, balancing him against the softness of her trembling body.
“Tell her good-bye, Solo,” X commanded.
“No!” Vika shouted again. “Not good-bye. Just good night. You’ll go to sleep, Solo, and we’ll patch you up. You’ll revive in the morning. You will. You’ll see. You vowed to give me anything I wanted and this is what I want.”
“Love . . .” He had to tell her how much he loved her. He had to explain everything she’d come to mean to him. Until her, he’d never really lived. But the black dots still winking through his vision expanded, thickened, and the blood bubbling in his throat cut off his airway. Suddenly he couldn’t breathe.
“He will die at home,” X said. “And don’t you dare protest, Vika. It must be this way.”
“No! He’s not leaving me. He promised to take me to his farm, too, and he always keeps his promises.” To Solo, she said, “You’re going to get better, I know it. I feel it. I have a knowing. Just . . . get better. Please, Solo. Please.
Strong arms banded around his waist, pulling him backward, tugging him away from Vika.
“No,” she said, and now she was sobbing. “X, don’t—”
They were the last words Solo heard.
Thirty-three
VIKA WASN’T SURE HOW long she knelt in place, staring at the pool of crimson Solo had left behind. X had put his arms around him, and the pair had vanished. All she knew was that, when she finally looked up, the circus was engulfed in flames.
She laughed without humor. Her father’s pride and joy was being destroyed bit by bit, all of his work soon to be ruined. Justice had at last arrived. But then, it always did, didn’t it? Somehow. Someway.
The otherworlders were still in their cages, screaming to be released. Performers were shouting and running in every direction. Her father’s body was motionless beside her. Matas was splayed a few feet away from her. Or rather, what was left of him. The crimson-soaked Targon stood over his body, arms lifted as he danced in the man’s blood. Audra stood in the same spot she’d occupied before, still holding the gun. She was pale and shaking—and she was no longer tattooed. The spiders were gone.
Audra noticed her gaze and shuddered. “I didn’t mean to kill your beast,” she said. “I just wanted to hurt Jecis the way he’d hurt me.”
“Solo wasn’t a beast! He was the best man I knew.” Horrified by her words, Vika hurried to correct herself. “He
Audra nodded, as though ashamed, and dropped the gun on the ground. Sirens blared in the background. Sirens Vika heard. Not as clearly as before, in the cabin, but enough. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to care.
“What should I do?” Audra asked.
She could hear the girl’s voice, as well. “Start a new life,” Vika told her.
Where was Solo? Where had X taken him? Home, the creature had said. Did that mean the farm? Or perhaps X’s home, in that other realm?
A tap on her shoulder caused her to look up.
The Targon peered down at her, and he was smiling. Splattered as he was with blood, it was a chilling smile. “You might want to close your eyes for this next part,” he said.
He didn’t wait for her response, but turned to her father and unsheathed a blade. Vika watched. With one sharp motion, he cut off Jecis’s thumb. The brutality of the action barely registered. She knew what he planned to do with the appendage, knew it was necessary.
He picked up the detached piece and rolled it along his palm. “Mara was my wife. Matas killed her.”
Mara. Vika’s Mara. “Killed her? No. I freed her.”
“You did. Your father found her and gave her to Matas. I was bonded to her, and I witnessed the entire thing through her eyes.”
Mara was dead. Mara hadn’t abandoned her. Hadn’t forgotten her. She’d been caught, killed. “I’m so sorry.
