“Here’s another question. Do you recall rule number two?”
His fingers curled around the diamonds, and she was surprised the stones weren’t ground into a fine powder. “If I break rule number one, I have to punch myself in the face or you’ll tattle to your father.”
She waited, blinking innocently. Jecis was the only power she held over this man or any other, and she wielded it often and severely.
Matas gave his jaw a pop.
“Well?”
Scowling, he slapped himself.
“Good boy,” she said with all the sugar sweetness she could muster. She had seen him with other women, and knew he had attended the Jecis Lukas school of discipline. He wasn’t afraid to punch to assert authority and prove a (stupid) point when angry . . . or even mildly disturbed.
“Now it’s my turn,” he said. “When are you going to marry me?”
See? “I’m thinking . . . never. Is that good for you?”
A flash of annoyance. “I’m the reason your father’s people hate you, the reason even the otherworlders are turning against you. A word here, a word there, and the poison spreads. Marry me, and I’ll make them love you.”
How dare he! “What have you said?” she demanded.
He waved the question away. “I want you, Vika, and I will have you.”
Actually, he was second-in-command of the circus and he wanted to be first. He didn’t yet understand that would never happen. Jecis would never abdicate power, and Matas would never be strong enough to take it from him.
Before becoming ringmaster, Jecis had performed the magic act. After becoming ringmaster, he taught Matas the secrets of the dark arts, the two spending countless hours poring through books, practicing what they read, and even testing their powers on some of the patrons of the circus.
In comparison, the two men weren’t even in the same league.
“You’ll never have me,” she said with a shake of her head. “You repulse me.”
“Is that so?” Suddenly his shadow moved—while his body remained still—expanding over his shoulders . . . splitting apart, slithering in different directions, each gloomy limb inching closer to her.
Heart pounding, Vika squared her shoulders. She knew what those shadows were, recognized them from that other realm. They were evil. Evil so real, so vile it had taken some kind of living form.
Her father carried the same essence. In fact, that was where Matas had picked it up. She’d noticed it a few days after they had begun training together.
“That’s so. Now leave,” she snapped.
He grinned, all pearly whites and menace. “Make me.”
The cramping started up again. “You didn’t used to be this way, you know.” Like her father, he had changed over the years—from a somewhat affable young man who enjoyed sharing cotton candy with her after every show to this, demanding and depraved, capable of any despicable deed.
“I know,” he said, and he didn’t sound as if he cared. “Now I’m better.”
“Not to me.”
“That’s because you haven’t yet evolved. But I could make you powerful, Vika. Think of it. I could make you powerful enough to kill your father and rule this circus by my side. I—”
“Turned Rasa into a freak.” He’d used his magic to transform her beard hair into hundreds of little snakes.
He shrugged, unconcerned. “She was heard laughing about my act, and needed to be taught a lesson.”
“And Audra?” He’d shared his “power” with her, too.
“I never cursed her. She came to your father and asked for the same gift I’m now offering you. He told me to work with her, and I did. Every day she begs for more of what I have.”
His sneering tone made her think he gave Audra more than lessons about black magic.
“I want nothing to do with you or your magic.”
She would never allow herself to slide into the cesspool Jecis and Matas shared. A hunger and thirst for money and the power he’d mentioned had ruined them both, rotted their souls. And yes, she’d always heard that the greedy bred the greedier and the beaters bred even crueler beaters—but she was breaking the cycle.
Long ago, Vika had decided not to be like the men in her life. She always told the truth. She refused to bemoan her situation (very often). She refused to hate the people around her. She forced herself to be kind. That didn’t mean she had to like, accept, or support what people did to her. She knew it was possible to love someone and not support their actions. She knew she could fight against what was