wake her up. She needed to remain alert for the next six hours. At least. But only if Jecis hadn’t given her any of the new medications available for just such a human head injury. Solo hated that he didn’t know.
For once, X didn’t appear with an answer or an encouragement in a time of need and Dr. E did not appear to tell him why he should be angrier. As if he needed any help with that.
How he wished he possessed the ability to heal others, as Corbin Blue did, taking her injuries into himself. Or, like John No Name, the ability to hypnotize with his voice, forcing people to do anything he wished. But no. The Allorians apparently came with many flaws, and very few benefits.
He glanced around. Night had fallen. His cage hadn’t yet been moved, so Jecis’s trailer was still in front of him. No one was outside. Which was strange. The circus was supposed to be packing up, moving to a new location. There should have been a ton of activity.
In the far corner of the cage, he found medicines, bandages, a blanket, bottles of water, and food. As gently as before, he doctored Vika’s lip, then folded the blanket to put it under her head. Only once did she make a noise, and that noise was a low, mewling whimper.
“Vika,” he said. “Wake up for me, honey.” He caressed her cheek. “Come on.”
Another moan, but she blinked open her eyes. They were iced over, glassy. “Solo?”
Good. This was good. She knew him; that part of her memory was intact. “I’m here.”
“My head hurts.”
“I know.”
“And I’m tired.”
“Did your father pour a sweet-tasting liquid down your throat before carting you to my cage?”
“I don’t—” A pause as her features scrunched. “Wait. Yes. He did.”
“Sleep, then.”
“Thank you,” she said with a soft sigh. Her head lolled to the side.
He traced the delicate curve of her jaw. He’d found her beautiful before, but now, knowing what he did about her, feeling the warmth of her skin surround him, inhaling the delicacy of her scent, mint and jasmine, she was exquisite. She was everything he’d ever wanted in his woman, and everything he’d never been able to have.
X claimed she belonged to him. Despite everything, Solo wanted to believe that. He no longer wanted to fight the knowledge.
And he wanted to believe she would be happy to wake up—really wake up—and find herself inside his cage, that she would not scream and cry and beg for mercy. After all, there was a big difference between seeing to an animal’s care and getting close enough to be bitten.
His ears began to twitch. Finally, sound. Mumbling.
Solo looked around, but saw nothing. Still the mumbling continued. And it was nearby. Frowning, he stood and approached the bars. He found Jecis on top of his trailer, meaty arms spread.
Lightning flashed in the sky.
Jecis’s voice rose in volume. The wind kicked up several notches. More lightning flashed, this time arcing toward the human, as though drawn to him. Maybe he would die, Solo hoped, but the moment the bolt made contact, the man’s body seemed to expand, black shadows bursting from him. A thick white fog formed at the edges of the shadows and rolled from the trailer to the cage. Solo listened, heard a whoosh of air, the patter of footsteps and slam of a door. Jecis must have gone inside.
Next he heard the crackle of flames. Even felt the heat. He heard the soft rustle of shuffling footfalls, and there were enough to form an army.
Uneasy, he stood guard. The fog began to thin . . . thin . . . and then everything changed—though nothing was for the better.
Seventeen
You will not be afraid of the terror by night, or of the arrow that flies by day.
—PSALM 91:5
A WASTELAND APPEARED.
Solo looked around. He could still see Jecis’s trailer, but it was now surrounded by barren hills littered with dead trees, fat insects flying from one gnarled branch to another. There were fire pits in every direction, yellow-gold flames dancing in the hot, dry wind.
The footsteps grew louder and louder in volume, until a crowd of men and women finally appeared, cresting over one of the hills. They tripped and raced in his direction.
The monsters Jecis had mentioned.
Solo had traveled the world, had seen terrible races, but never anything like this. The creatures were humanoid, with sagging, paper-thin skin that smelled of rot. Worms slithered along their scalps, and their eyes were dark