by Trudi Jaye
Her initial instinct had been that he was like a predator. He’d managed to hide that aspect of his personality for a while, but now, in the confines of her caravan, it rose to the surface again.
Her thoughts went to the notebook hidden in her tiny sock drawer. Could he really be involved in the sabotage? Blago loved the Carnival too much, and Jack didn’t have much of a motive. He’d been kind when she’d broken down in front of him.
But her father had been the one digging around, and he knew Blago better than she did. And their arrival was too convenient. Her head was pounding again, but she resisted the urge to show any more weakness in front of Jack by rubbing her temples.
The show must go on.
“If you could look into research being done around amputated legs, cutting-edge studies, new theories… I’ll look at ongoing prosthetics research for Viktor to work with,” she said.
He nodded, holding her gaze for a moment longer than necessary before fixing his eyes on his laptop screen and getting to work.
Rilla settled into her chair and typed her search request. If there was one thing that would distract her from the problems swirling around in her head, it was research. She loved the search for knowledge, finding something that was lost or hidden. Patterns emerged; ideas became clear.
Sometimes, a Gift wasn’t straightforward. In fact, often the Gifts were damn complicated and the only thing holding them together was gathering all the facts before they marched down a particular path. Ever since she’d been old enough to take part, they’d always made them work. Her father had a flair for finding the right angle at the right time. And then when she’d turned eighteen and come into her full abilities, her talent for deciphering problems had given them an edge.
It was only since the sabotage had started that they’d been off-balance, with all of their talents decreasing. They’d been getting more ordinary, and it hurt. The Gifts had been harder, and the magic weaker. They’d had to fight fiercely to do what had come easily in the past.
And now, since her father’s death, she’d been having trouble seeing any patterns at all. Nothing was clear. Her usual senses were wonky, off-center.
After a while at the computer, she realized even the research wasn’t going to come as easily as it usually did. She couldn’t find what she was looking for, and it was driving her crazy. Even worse, she just couldn’t get the idea of Blago and Jack being saboteurs out of her head. Could it really be true? She felt like the answer was just out of her reach; that she would know for sure if she could only think it through properly.
A prickling sensation on the back of her neck had her rolling her stiff shoulders. She glanced up and saw Jack watching her.
“What?” she said. A flush worked its way across her cheeks.
“Just your facial expressions. You’re not very good at hiding what you’re thinking.”
“What are you talking about?” The notebook and sabotage plot flicked through her head. Her face blushed hotter.
“That scowl of yours and those eyes. It’s completely impossible to ignore the fact you’re wrestling with something and you don’t know the answer yet.”
The air escaped Rilla’s lungs before she realized he was being very general. He didn’t know the particulars of her dilemma. “Maybe. This part of the Gift can be difficult.”
“It doesn’t help that my father is trying to take away your job as Ringmaster.”
“No.” Or that he might be a saboteur.
Jack tipped his head to one side, studying her face. “Why do you even want to be Ringmaster? You’re not like Blago.”
“What do you mean?”
“My father loves to be the center of attention, and it sounds like your dad was the same. But you’re not like that. Why do you want it?” He held up his hands in surrender when she glared at him. “There go those eyes again. I don’t mean it as an insult. It’s actually a compliment.”
Rilla didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He’d only been here two days and he’d already gotten right to the heart of the matter. “I’m a Jolly. It’s what our family does. We run the Carnival, and we’re the Ringmasters. Ever since the shipwreck. I can’t… I won’t be the first Jolly to let the family down.” The lump in her throat, the one that had been there for days, pushed up again. But she refused to cry in front of him. Again.
“You’re doing this for family pride? That’s an awfully big responsibility for someone who doesn’t really want it.”
Rilla held up her hands. “You don’t get it. I do want it. This is my life—the Carnival, everyone in it. It’s all I know. I went to school outside for a while, and it was the worst time of my life. This is where I belong. It’s who I am. It’s where I can be me.”
“You know, I think Blago feels the same.” Jack’s expression went carefully blank. “He was about your age when he was kicked out.”
Rilla looked out the window to where the Carnival lights shone in the distance. What would she do if she were kicked out right this minute? The thought made little pinpricks of fear run along her spine.
“I can’t imagine it,” she said. A thought occurred to her. “But it’s not the people here who kicked him out. You know that, right? There aren’t many rules associated with living in the Carnival, but one that can’t be broken is the Gift law. The Carnival doesn’t make allowances. It can’t.”
“They left him. They left him and my grandparents.” Jack’s eyes were dark.
“They didn’t leave him.” Rilla leaned toward him, trying to make him understand. “The Carnival determines who has broken the law and acts accordingly. They were as out of control of the situation as your father was. In fact, your father was more in control because he chose to break the Gift law and knew the consequences. Your grandparents and Blago’s sister were the ones you should be really sorry for. They were the victims.”
“Sister?” Jack seemed confused.
Rilla frowned. “Christoph said it was Blago’s parents and sister who were kicked out with him. You don’t have an aunt?”
Jack shook his head.
Rilla shrugged. “I must have misunderstood.”
Jack frowned at his screen for a moment. “What if you don’t get to be Ringmaster? What will you do then?”
Every hair on her body bristled at the idea. She wanted to shout at him that it was her job, what she’d been born for. Who cared that she wasn’t the same charismatic person her father had been? It was still who she was, as much as organizing and running the rest of the Carnival.
She took a calming breath. Then another. “I know the Carnival and its people inside out. I manage everything and have done for a long time. We’ll still need someone to do that. Your father, if he becomes Ringmaster, will need someone to help him, like my father did.” But the idea of being told what to do by Blago sent angry currents rolling through her body.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it.
It was that he hadn’t been born to do it.
He was attempting to steal her birthright, and if Jack didn’t know it, Blago certainly did.
She wondered again if Blago was trying to get back at her father through her. Jack had said he was devastated when he was thrown out, and he could have blamed her father for it, illogical as that was.
Something clicked into place.
The sabotage could have been Blago’s way of getting the Carnival in trouble so he could come along and save it. She tried for a moment to imagine him killing her father, but it was just too much of a stretch. He might be sneaky and treacherous, but she didn’t think Blago would stoop to murder.
Maybe her father’s death wasn’t connected after all. It might have been a tragic accident, a coincidence that Blago couldn’t have foreseen. If that were the case, his death had played right into Blago’s hands. “Why did your father come back to the Carnival now? His time was up years ago,” she asked.
“I don’t know. My mother, I suppose.” His dark eyes were focused on her.
Rilla frowned,
trying to ignore the energy rolling off him. “Your mother?”
“When she died last year, my father was heartbroken. My sister and I as well, but Dad took it really hard. He’s not been the same since.”
Rilla rubbed her shoulder. There was a dull ache in her neck and her eyes were sore. Her head felt like it was whirling around a million miles an hour. She understood the pain of grief, both physical and mental. “He seems okay now.”
“Coming back to the Carnival, it’s changed him. For the better.”
“I’m glad. Although, it’s a pity he feels the need to become Ringmaster.” He might be much improved, but it was at her cost.
Jack’s focus immediately came back to her. “It’s not personal. He simply believes he would be a good Ringmaster.”
“And I won’t?” Rilla narrowed her eyes.
“Would you be as good as he will?” Jack said softly.
The words were sharp and painful. She couldn’t deny it. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to think logically. Jack didn’t know her, and he was obviously loyal to his father. He had a right to ask the question.
Rilla opened her eyes, and instead of being across from her, he was right there, crouching next to her. She could smell the sawdust and sweat from his body, and see the flecks of amber in his eyes. She hadn’t even heard him move.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said softly. He put his hand out and touched her cheek. His gaze burned into hers.
She shook her head, pulling away from his hand, and trying to still the tremble that rippled up her body.
“I know how important the Carnival is to you.” This time, he tucked a lock of her hair behind one ear. “I’m sorry.” He leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips, as if he could wipe away the memory of his words with his mouth. It was a whisper, a mere brush, but it felt like a fire had been lit inside her, and Rilla didn’t know how to respond. She froze, her eyes wide, watching his face as he came closer again. His lips touched hers—nothing more—this time a little harder.
Rilla trembled and gave in to the urge to touch him, reaching up one hand to his hair, dragging her fingers through the fine silk. Jack groaned and deepened the kiss, his tongue flicking into her mouth, one hand reaching up to caress her cheek. She lost herself in the sensations cascading up and down her body. There was no thought, just the heat flowing between them.
A heavy knock banged at the door, like someone knew exactly what they were doing. They jerked apart, breathing heavily. Rilla’s heart was pounding so loudly, she was sure Jack could hear it. He looked down at her, his gaze hot, then reluctantly turned to answer the door.
Rubbing her hand across her mouth, Rilla tried to understand what had just happened. One minute, she had been worried that he would realize he was a suspect in the sabotage, and the next, she was kissing him like she hadn’t kissed anyone in years.
Jack opened the door and murmured down at whoever was there. He glanced back at Rilla. “It’s my father. He needs me to help him with something. I can do the research later, in my caravan. I’ll let you know how it goes.” Jack’s voice sounded strained. Rilla could no longer read the expression in his eyes.
She nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
***
“What do you mean?” The voice was confused.
“Rilla’s willing to stay on as an administrator,” said Jack. “She’ll look after the books, make sure everything runs right, and Blago can be the one in charge.” His voice was low and persuasive. “She’s clearly not ready to run the whole show yet. She’s still grieving. It works out for everybody this way.”
Administrator? Rilla tucked herself back behind the fold of the tent where she’d stopped, anger boiling in her stomach. Memories of the kiss from the night before burned her face red.
“Do you think she’d be happy with that?”
Rilla recognized the other voice. Viktor’s son, Henry.
“Of course. She doesn’t really want to be Ringmaster. Look at the way she acts in a crowd. The Carnival needs a Ringmaster who can stand up front, take the lead.”
Rilla couldn’t believe what she was hearing. What the hell did Jack know about what the Carnival needed? Pain in her palm made her look down. She’d been clenching her hand so tight her nails had made little half circles of blood on her palm.
The voices faded as Jack and Henry walked down the alleyway between the caravans, toward the Carnival strip.
Who did he think he was? She’d talked to him in confidence, and now here he was, twisting what she’d said and using it against her.
After he’d left the previous night, she’d decided he couldn’t possibly be involved in the sabotage—for no better reason than he’d watched her with his sexy eyes and kissed her senseless. Surely her brain wouldn’t let her kiss someone like that if they were deceitful?
But her father had put them both on the list for a reason, and now she had all the proof she needed that Jack was conniving and two-faced. Rilla kicked the muddy ground at her feet. She should have known better.
She’d been coming to find him so they could go into town and look up the public records. But there was no way she was taking him with her now. She stomped away, anger vibrating over her body.
She’d show him who was an administrator.
CHAPTER TEN
Rilla threw the newspaper article down on the middle of the table. She was shaking she was so angry. All eyes turned to see the headline she had folded to the top.
“Carnival Safety Fears!” the newspaper proclaimed.
“What on Earth?” Garth picked up the paper.
“Where did that come from?” asked Viktor.
“I was coming back from the town hall and saw it.” She was the last to arrive, making it almost a full meeting of the Nine. Along with some who shouldn’t be here, she thought, glancing at Jack and Blago in one corner.
“What’s it saying?” Alfie leaned over, trying to get a look.
“That we’re not safe. That we’ve had problems and it’s dangerous to come to the Carnival.” Just remembering the lies the article spouted made her grind her teeth.
“What? That’s not true!” Viktor was immediately outraged. He and his boys were meticulous about safety on all the thrill rides.
“Does it give a source?” Tami, the Foodmaster, looked up at Rilla. Her eyes were wide and her bright-red curls shone in the low lamplight.
“It just says someone close to the Carnival. It could be anyone.” She glanced over at Jack and Blago again. “But I think I know who it was.”
“Cool down a moment, Rilla.” Garth’s voice held a warning.
“It’s our livelihood, Garth. This kind of thing could ruin us.”
“You think we don’t all know that? Just sit down and we’ll discuss our other business first.”
Rilla stared at the Giftmaster for a moment, every instinct in her body demanding she shout that Jack and Blago had done it, that they’d been the source close to the Carnival. That they’d been sabotaging the Carnival for months.
Hell, maybe they’d even killed her dad.
She took a deep breath. Then another.
Don’t let them get to you, girl. You’re better than that.
She nodded and sat down next to Christoph, her scowl firmly in place. There was a protocol, and she would do her best to follow it. But she didn’t have to like it. She tapped the nail of her finger on the tabletop, until Garth glared at her from the other side of the table. She held her finger in mid-air; her father had always said he could tell how annoyed she was by the speed of her tapping. It was a nervous habit she really needed to ditch.
“We’re all here, so let’s begin,” said Garth. “I’ve got a clearer picture of the Mark. She blames herself for the death of her family. Hence the reluctance to participate in the wish. She doesn’t think she deserves to be happy.”
Rilla blew out a low breath. It made it hard to be angry about her own problems when they had a Mark like this. “
The accident records show they were hit by a truck that failed to give way. I don’t know what she thinks she did, but I doubt there was any way to avoid the truck,” she said.
“She’d been having an argument with her father. He was driving. She thinks she distracted him and caused the accident. She was too afraid to tell anyone her secret for fear of being put in jail.” He shrugged when he saw the response from those around him at the idea of a young girl going to jail. “She was young, just sixteen at the time. She was scared.”
Rilla nodded brusquely. “So, we know what’s going on in her head and the real facts of the accident. Where to from here?”
I want to stop feeling dead inside. I want to live again. I want to be whole again.
Jack leaned forward. “I found some information on a study where they’re attaching the legs of donors who’ve recently died to amputees. It’s still pretty new, but I thought it might be something we could look into.”
There were murmurs around the table. “It needs to be something we can arrange in three weeks,” said Viktor.
“Sounds pretty gross,” said Tami, shuddering.
“What else we got?” Viktor turned to Rilla.
“There’s some good prosthetics research being done. I’ve made a few calls.” Rilla cleared her throat. “But I think we need to do some recon. Visit her house.”
Garth frowned. “No. You know how I feel about house visits.”
Rilla nodded, unsurprised at his reaction. Getting too close to the Mark was generally frowned upon. They needed to ensure they could still make tough decisions with regard to the Mark—there were often actions they had to take that were mean or difficult in the short-term, but achieved the wish in the long-term. If they were too friendly, they might make the wrong choice out of false kindness or fear.
But they needed to know more.