What a puzzle she was. He couldn’t figure her out.
And he wouldn’t be given the chance tonight, he was sure. He had let her go, and she had bolted, which was probably a good thing. Right now he hung at the end of a fraying rope, ready to fall into his most dangerous at any moment. He hadn’t lied about that. His mind was hazed by the ever-increasing pain he had refused to reveal to Jecis, even in the smallest degree. He would rather bathe in acid and towel himself dry with broken glass than satisfy the sick desires of such a madman. Michael had trained him better than that.
“I’m back,” Vika said.
How utterly shocking. She’d kept her word without being forced.
He wanted to howl as she gently tended his wounds, but once again he remained quiet. He didn’t want her to stop. He needed this. And he liked the thought of her hands on him, no matter the circumstances.
“You’ll heal,” she whispered. “You have to heal.”
As the sound of her soft voice drifted through his mind, he was able to pretend they were at his farm, in his bedroom. On his bed. They had just made love, and he was exhausted. She had loved every moment, and now, she couldn’t stop touching him, had to have more of him. But as his fellow captives marveled aloud, throwing rapid-fire questions and commands at him, he was drawn back to the present.
“Why are you just lying there?” the Mec whispered fiercely. “Kill her!”
Did he know she was deaf?
“Bob! Fred! Over here!” Criss rattled her cage door. “Fight through the pain and free us!”
“Now’s your chance,” the Bree Lian growled. “Do something!”
No. They didn’t know. They would have told him to use the defect against her. Right now they were simply desperate for action.
“Why don’t you all shut up?” the Targon snipped. “Let the girl aid the man.”
Support. From the Targon. Miracle of miracles.
Vika cast a glance over her shoulder. “Hush,” she said, and turned back to Solo.
Solo frowned. Maybe he was mistaken about her. Maybe—no. No mistake. She had simply followed the direction of his gaze. She had no idea the creatures had commanded him to end her life. Her expression was sad rather than angry, guilty rather than fearful.
He should listen to his companions and act. He should fight his way out. Now. He should do whatever proved necessary.
He wasn’t against hurting a defenseless deaf girl to save himself . . . was he? Only yesterday he would have said no, no, a thousand times no. But twice now Vika had tenderly ministered to him, and only his mother had ever done such a thing for him. Vika had given him food and earned herself a beating.
His mother would expect him to aid the girl aiding him.
Yes, he was against hurting a defenseless deaf girl. This deaf girl.
Using every bit of his strength, Solo pulled himself into a crouch. Whatever salve she had spread over his wounds seeped deep and thankfully dulled the pain. She slid an arm under his chest and applied pressure, helping him straighten.
“Can you lift the rest of the way?” she asked softly.
He opened his mouth to respond, realized she couldn’t see his lips at this angle, and settled for nodding. He lumbered to his feet, tried not to cringe. Vika urged him toward the cage; he resisted.
“I’m not going back there,” he said. New plan. He would leave with Vika and Kitten, find a hiding place, one Jecis wouldn’t be able to track, even if there was a GPS chip in the cuffs, and take time to heal. He would contact Michael. Together they would come back here and destroy the circus. Some aspects of the plans would always be the same. Vika, he would . . . He wasn’t sure what he’d do with her anymore.
After the circus was destroyed, he would hunt John and Blue if they were missing.
“Please,” she said, giving his arm a tug. The single word was drenched with fear.
“I’m not going to hurt you, and I’m not going to allow your father to hurt you, either.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and forced her into his side.
She struggled for freedom, but he merely tightened his hold. She struggled some more, but surprisingly enough, she was careful not to brush against his wounds.
“Don’t do this,” she pleaded.
“I must.”
As the otherworlders called him over—save me first, no me, please, me—she finally stilled.