by Meg LaTorre
“The next few days are yours to do with as you see fit,” the Mistress continued. “Our ship departs in five days at dawn, and the journey will take more than a week by solar waves. Prepare yourselves for the competition. I expect it to be our most exciting one yet.”
The watchmen moved to either side of the exit as the Mistress and the show management team strode from the silent room. Long after their guard departed, additional watchmen stood at every exit.
They are keeping us from running away.
Standing, Gwen carried her tray over to the rotating platform for cleaning, behind which was the dishwashing room. Other performers and circus staff did the same. It would seem most everyone had lost their appetite after the inspiring speech.
Bastian appeared beside her, putting his tray full of food on an empty rotating platform before it disappeared into the room beyond the wall.
Taking a deep breath, she said, “Walk with me? There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”
Despite Bastian’s aid during her moment of panic, he was all stoic ringleader once more. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he nodded, eyes full of skeptical disinterest.
He doesn’t want to get in trouble again, she realized. More than likely, he was no longer interested in their strange partnership to save the performers. Some part of her suspected an awful truth. Once again, he prioritized the Mistress and show management team position above all else.
If so, she’d lost one of her greatest allies.
As they walked out of the dining room, down the halls, and into the theater, they passed countless watchmen, none of whom acknowledged the presence of any cyborg. It was as though they’d become mindless statues, somehow worse than before.
When they entered the theater, several of the performers followed them inside, moving to their respective locations—the trampolines, rings, boxes, ramps with bicycles.
Gwen strode into her office with Bastian at her heels. Someone had cleaned up the blood and gore from the night before because it was immaculate.
Bastian nodded to the two watchmen standing guard at the door. After he entered, Gwen rolled the door shut behind him. There was no point in asking for privacy with the Mistress’s orders to trail her.
“I… I can’t do it again,” she blurted. “I can’t hurt any more people.”
For a moment, he studied her. “What if it’s Rora? What if she loses, and either you could remove her hand properly, or she could die from blood loss?”
“Don’t you dare—”
“As the tinkerer, you have a job to perform at this circus.”
The words were so cold, she flinched. It was as though, in a single day, any warmth that had developed between them—frail as it was—had disappeared entirely.
For a moment, she wondered if she could run away with Rora and her friends. But they wouldn’t get far. With the number of guards she’d seen on her walk through the halls to the theater, there was no way they could make it past without being seen, especially while carrying Marzanna. They would all be killed and harvested before reaching the docks.
The Mistress had prepared for this and was already one step ahead.
But Gwen wasn’t about to give up. After what happened with Marzanna, she was more determined than ever to do something.
“I have an idea,” Gwen said. “For the third competition. And I’ll need your help.”
“We fought a dragon,” he hissed, his stoic expression fading momentarily. “Isn’t that enough for you?”
“No,” she bit back. “Not with everyone’s lives in this circus at stake. The performers you recruited.”
“I’m well aware that I recruited them, Ms. Grimm.”
“Good. Then how do we save them?”
“There is no ‘we,’” he said, speaking the words she feared. “Did you learn nothing of the Mistress’s ire yesterday? If you cross her again, things will end poorly for you. And I won’t be there to save you this time.”
“Where’s the bastard who rode a dragon into the fucking sunset? That guy had balls. He was willing to take a risk to do the right thing. And you still can. Come to my room tonight. Just hear what I have to say. I have a plan that could save our friends.”
A plan that I came up with just this second.
There would be time to perfect it.
Bastian opened his mouth to speak when a knock sounded at the door.
Sighing, she said, “Enter.”
The door slid aside, revealing a performer with a busted implant.
Bastian turned on his heel. “I’ll see myself out.”
“Think on it,” she called as he left the room.
Something inside her twisted, but she pushed thoughts of Bastian aside.
After tinkering with implants for several hours, Gwen eventually excused herself and went out into the theater. If her plan was going to work, backup would be handy.
As she neared Rora’s slackline, she was thankful to find Akio and Rora together, the two speaking animatedly.
Slowing, Gwen cleared her throat.
Rora and Akio turned to her. Something strange crossed Rora’s features, but it disappeared in an instant.
“How are you feeling?” Gwen asked, glancing at Rora’s hand.
“Doing great,” Rora said with a stiff smile. “Thank you.”
Ignoring the sinking of her heart, Gwen turned to Akio. “I was actually hoping I’d catch you. I… Well, I wanted to apologize for my part in what happened with Marzanna.”
Akio ran a hand over the back of his neck before saying, “Thanks for saying that. For the record, I don’t blame you for what happened. It was an accident.”
“She’ll come around,” Rora said. “I know she will.”
Gwen’s throat tightened as she swallowed back the waterworks threatening to make an appearance. “What happened to Marzanna is my fault. I replaced the wiring incorrectly. That’s why her foot malfunctioned and she hasn’t woken up.”
“No,” Rora said, her voice rising. “If anyone is to blame, it’s the Mistress. She’s the reason for these competitions happening.”
Releasing a series of hacking coughs, Gwen jerked her human eye toward where the watchmen stood guard around the theater—hoping Rora and Akio understood.
Gwen waved a hand to the performers glancing sideways at her.
“Allergies,” she lied. Lowering her voice, she turned back to Rora and Akio. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m done being a pawn in this competition.”
Rora cocked her head to the side. “What do you have in mind?”
“Meet me tonight in my room, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
For a moment, Gwen thought Rora would say no, that an excuse for why she couldn’t come tonight would fall from her lips. Instead, she nodded. The gesture was hesitant, her brows drawing ever so slightly. But she said yes, as did Akio.
No one knew what awaited them in the emperor’s court. But what other option did they have other than to press forward? Either they would die in this competition, or they could hope there wasn’t anything worse than remaining as part of Cirque du Borge.
Just like that, it was settled.
Chapter 23
As the performers filtered back from the mess hall that evening toward their bedrooms, Rora and Akio turned down another hall, heading straight for Gwen’s rooms on the dormitory hall for the circus staff.
Watchmen lined the hallway and were stationed at every exit. Were there always this many?
What am I doing? I should be focusing on my performance now more than ever, not running to Gwen the moment she calls.
Somehow, Rora found herself saying yes to Gwen, despite her intention to keep some distance between them. She had patronage to secure, after all. If she could convince the emperor and the Union Council cyborgs weren’t a threat, he could easily purchase her contract from Cirque du Borge. All of her dreams could still come true.
So why was she risking the fate of that very attainable dream?<
br />
Because I’m a stupid, foolish woman with no self-control.
Guilt gnawed at her stomach, and it was a struggle to keep Gwen from her thoughts.
As Rora and Akio neared Gwen’s room, one of the hired mercenaries emerged from the shadows and stopped them. “What is your business here? All performers are to return to their dormitories after the evening meal.”
“We—” Rora began but was interrupted.
“I asked them to come see me.” Down the hall, Gwen poked her head through her bedroom door. “Their implants need tinkering, and I didn’t have time to see them during my regular office hours.” She gestured to Rora and Akio. “Come on in.”
Slowly, almost hesitantly, the watchmen took a step back and allowed them to pass.
Rora and Akio hurried into Gwen’s room and closed the door.
“Thanks for coming.” Gwen plopped herself on her bed. “Just a heads-up, Bastian might be joining us.”
“I don’t think I properly thanked you for your help last night.” Rora ran a hand over her very new, very functioning cyborg hand. “It hurt a lot, but it’s infinitely better than the old one.”
Biggest understatement of the year.
Despite the vulnerable moment they’d shared last night, and the utter devastation she’d seen in Gwen’s eyes, today, the tinkerer was all cool and collected. She wore a clean, loose blouse—nowhere near as see-through as the one she’d worn the night before—and clean trousers. They hugged Gwen’s hips, highlighting a lean, tall figure. Rather than Rora’s hourglass shape, Gwen had a small chest and large, full hips.
Hips she so very badly wanted to grind against.
Rora swallowed thickly as arousal stirred the flesh between her legs.
Get a grip. You have your hand. Time to listen to whatever Gwen has to say and then get out of here.
With a small smile, Gwen nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. Tell me if it starts making strange sounds or not responding, okay?”
“Of course.”
“Before anyone else gets here,” Akio said, interrupting what had quickly become an awkward conversation. “We should probably talk about something.”
It was a struggle to tear her eyes from Gwen, but Rora turned, brows furrowed.
Akio cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “Are we sure it’s a good idea to include Mr. Kabir in on this?”
Gwen opened her mouth, but Akio spoke first.
“I like you, Gwen,” Akio continued. “But I’ve known Bastian for years. He was the Mistress’s man before he was the ringleader. He’s hungry for power. It’s what drives him. Helping us, sacrificing all the power he’s worked for over the years… It’s not something the Bastian Kabir I know would do.”
Rora understood where Akio was coming from.
Bastian had always been a man hungry for power. So, what had changed in him now, if anything? Why had he intervened in the second competition? Could he be working undercover for the Mistress?
There was a sound, and they all turned.
Bastian stood mutely in the doorway.
If Rora hadn’t been watching Bastian, she might have missed the pained look—like a wounded animal—that crossed his features. As quickly as it appeared, it was gone, and he wore the same impassive mask she’d come to associate with the ringleader.
Gwen’s cheeks flushed. “Bastian! You came.”
Bastian? When had they started on a first-name basis?
“Tell us, Mr. Kabir, why the sudden change of heart?” Akio asked, not unkindly, as Bastian closed the door.
Gwen opened her mouth to speak, but Bastian placed his hand on her shoulder. The gesture was so familiar that Rora ground her teeth.
“You make a fair point, Mr. Yamamoto,” Bastian said.
Gwen pinched the bridge of her nose. “Enough with the formalities, people.”
“I have been loyal to the show management team for years,” he continued before turning to Gwen. He looked at her with a softness Rora had never seen before. Could that be…? No.
Had the ringleader fallen for Gwen?
“Working with Gwen in extracting the cyborg implants after each competition has reminded me of one thing,” Bastian said. “You are my people. For the past seven years, I handpicked each one of you. I found you and offered you another life—one I thought might be mutually beneficial. I stood by every one of you as you received your implant. I trained you in the ways of the circus—how to succeed and how to gain the favor of the audience. You are my greatest masterpiece.”
Bastian’s gaze met Rora’s and Akio’s before his eyes settled on Gwen. “And I will no longer stand idle while the Mistress destroys everything we have done to make this circus a home.”
“Why us?” Rora asked, trying to restrain the edge forming in her voice. “Why not help anyone else?”
“We’ll help the others,” Bastian replied. “But not everyone can be knowledgeable of our intentions, or else the Mistress might get word of it, and we’ll all have terminated contracts.
“Any performers who lose and are left behind on Jinx are receiving a death penalty. Few survive on the streets while healthy, let alone while recovering from a traumatic implant removal. No one will take pity on them there. We need to do everything we can to ensure the safety of as many as possible.”
Clearing her throat, Gwen said, “Which is why I came up with a plan to sabotage Abrecan and his friends’ performances.”
Rora gaped.
Was Gwen serious? She wanted to take on Abrecan?
They were what… four against twenty? Not to mention, neither Akio nor Rora were the I-can-defeat-muscle-heads-twice-my-size type. If it came to a confrontation with Abrecan, Thaniel, or the others, they’d be done.
More than that, Rora wanted the very thing that made her seek out Bastian Kabir two years ago. The thing that moved her to action after she’d broken her hand beyond repair. The thing that made her cut off her right hand with a kitchen knife in order to become a cyborg.
She wanted to be the best, but she wouldn’t do it through cheating.
“No.” When Rora spoke, she couldn’t hide the disbelief—the disgust—from her voice. “I won’t cheat. It’s not right.”
Surprised disappointment bled into Gwen’s features. “You’re still going to do your performance, same as always. That won’t change. I’ll only be fucking with Abrecan and his friends’ props. The people who tried to get you killed in the second competition.” She paused, clearly waiting for that to sink in for Rora. “I’ll weaken the supporting beams of Abrecan’s target, swap out Thaniel’s weighted balls for lighter ones—small things. If Abrecan happens to miss his target and an arrow connects with a member of the audience… Well, he wouldn’t exactly have the love of the people, would he? And that means you would be that much closer to achieving your dream of performing for the emperor.”
“How is stooping down to their level any better?” Rora said, trying to make Gwen understand. “If we cheat, we’ll be no better than them.”
Rora wasn’t the purest among them, but she was surprised by Gwen. The very person who’d said she wanted to protect the cyborgs was plotting to help exile some of the performers on Jinx? It felt somehow… disingenuous.
But didn’t Rora want to keep her hand and perform for the emperor? This would essentially secure her place. It would also help ensure the safety of her friends. But cheating meant she wouldn’t have earned her place to perform for the emperor. Despite everything, she still wanted to prove she could do it on her own.
Hurt streaked across Gwen’s face. “I’m doing this for you—to protect you. I don’t want to leave anyone behind on Jinx, let alone take their implants before doing so. But what choice do we have? I need you to live, Rora.”
Gwen came to stand before her, eyes pleading. “If you have a better idea, please tell me. I’m doing everything I can think of to keep you safe.” A calloused hand touched Rora’s cheek. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you. I…”
> Rora’s heart pattered, knowing and fearing the words that came next.
“I love you,” Gwen said.
All of the objections on the tip of Rora’s tongue fell away. What could she possibly say to that? Well, she knew damn well what she should say, but the words felt heavy on her tongue.
It wasn’t supposed to get this far.
The plan had been to seduce Gwen, coerce her into making a new cyborg hand, and then put all of her focus into winning the competition and then securing patronage from the emperor or his court.
But now…? Things were changing, and Rora couldn’t deny the quickening of her heart the moment Gwen walked into the room nor the way she wanted to be the one to comfort her when the world crumbled around them. She’d seen a glimpse of Gwen’s core last night, and Rora found herself wanting to support that woman and watch her flourish.
But could she give up her dream of being a court performer? She wasn’t sure.
She couldn’t return the sentiment to Gwen. Not at this moment. So, she did the only thing she could.
Rora took Gwen’s hand, squeezing tightly. “What do you have in mind?”
Hurt mingled in Gwen’s eyes for a moment before disappearing, but she rallied and told Rora and Akio her plan for the next competition. But as Gwen spoke, her gaze flickered back and forth between Rora and Bastian.
Rora’s cyborg hand curled into a fist.
Eventually, they finished making plans, and it was time for them to go to bed. With a quick farewell, Rora made her way back to the performers’ dormitory wing.
“I know you and Marzanna are usually the ones to talk about these sorts of things,” Akio began. “But do you want to talk about that three-word phrase a certain tinkerer said tonight?”
Despite herself, Rora smiled, shaking her head. “I like her. But everything is so confusing right now, especially with the competition. I don’t want to cheat. I don’t know if I could live with myself if I did.”