No need to think about his response. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
The Targon studied him for a long while. “I think I like you more with every second that passes. And I think I’m even willing to help you . . . for a price.”
“Name it.”
A fleeting smile, without a hint of amusement. “Reading minds is a little hobby of mine. I know about your farm, and I want it.”
Again, no thought was necessary. “Done. Help me today, help Vika afterward, if anything happens to me, and it’s yours. I vow it.”
• • •
Vika paced from one corner of her trailer to the other, reminding herself of the tiger in the forest. Only, her wounds weren’t visible. Her heart was breaking inside her chest, a sense of helplessness razing her.
She’d lost the ability to hear, and all of her furniture and the trinkets she’d left behind had been removed, leaving the space barren, devoid of a single weapon. In fact, there was only one weapon nearby and it was clutched in Audra’s hand.
Audra, who stood by the only exit, guarding it with her life.
Vika stopped, just stopped, and faced her childhood friend, her tormentor. Actually, that gun wasn’t the only weapon, she realized. She was a weapon. Solo had made sure of it—and she wouldn’t make light of his lessons.
“Let me out, Audra,” she said. “Otherwise, you won’t like what happens to you.”
“I won’t like what happens to me if I do. Your father will kill me.”
“If you stay with him, he’ll kill you anyway.”
“No.” Green eyes glittered. “He’s not going to hit me anymore. He promised.”
“He lied.”
“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 I love Solo.”
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 could save him. She would.
“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.”
“Jecis will do far worse.”
“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.
Duck under the trailer, he commanded. Now!
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.
Solo’s in trouble, X said. He and the Targon have worked up a plan. They began shouting for your father and Matas a few minutes ago. But rather than confront them head-on, your father wants to use Solo’s feelings for you against him.
So low. So like Jecis.
“What should I do?” she whispered.
You know what you need to do, Vika.
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.
Can you do what needs doing? X asked.
“Yes,” she said, and stalked forward.
Thirty-two
A large population is a king’s glory, but without subjects a prince is ruined.
—PROVERBS 14:28
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.