by Trudi Jaye
CHAPTER TWELVE
Hugo revelled in the heady mix of adrenaline and blood pumping through his body. It was even better than when he was on stage. A mix of emotions swirled inside his head, and he took a deep breath.
He had them.
They were locked inside his massive storage unit, in the big metal cage he used for his underwater magic stunt. He watched on his video surveillance cameras as they shook the bars, scraped at the base, climbed to the roof, trying to find a way out. He pressed the intercom button. “You’re just wasting your time. I know all the tricks, and that cage is impenetrable against them. Just sit still and save your energy. You’ll need it later.”
All four of them started at the sound of his voice, and he couldn’t stop the smile that spread over his face. It felt so good when things went his way. It made his blood sing.
Rilla started to shout, but thankfully, he couldn’t hear what she was saying. He didn’t need to know. She would be berating him for his actions. But when something felt so good, it couldn’t be wrong. They had stolen his son. He was simply doing what was necessary to get him back. He knew who was in the right and who was in the wrong.
He would leave them to stew for a while. Then he would go down and toy with them a bit. Oh, it felt good to be getting even.
“Sir, Miss Lucietta is asking to speak to you.” The big bear of a man who served as his butler and assistant appeared in front of him.
“Dammit, Gerry, we talked about that. Don’t just turn up in front of me. You never know what might happen.” Hugo forced his pulse back to normal.
“Sorry, sir. What should I tell Miss Lucietta? She’s in the second lounge.”
“I’ll talk to her. Just keep an eye on the main gate. Any hint of a police presence and you let me know.”
“Certainly, sir.” Gerry bowed and silently walked out of the room.
Hugo frowned. Wishing he could just get rid of her now, he stalked to the room where Lucietta was sitting watching infomercials on television.
“What do you want, Luci?” He tried to calm his breathing, reminding himself he might still need her.
Lucietta looked over at him, her eyes assessing. “I just wanted to know when we’re going. Should I pack?”
Hugo looked at his watch. It was late. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning. Be ready to go early.”
She smiled coyly. “Does that mean we have some time to use up?” She played with a strand of her hair.
Hugo only just managed to stop himself from grimacing. He shook his head slowly, as if he were disappointed. “I have to deal with our guests. You’ll have to entertain yourself tonight. But I need you to think through everything you can remember about the Compound and write it down. I need a direction to be traveling in.”
Lucietta looked at him speculatively but seemed to accept what he was saying. She nodded. “Are you going to try to get information out of them?” she asked.
Hugo narrowed his eyes. “It would seem the most logical move. I’ll see what I can get out of them. But in the very least, their being here is going to disrupt the Carnival enough for us to gain access.”
“The same as the sabotage did?”
“Yes. Only better. We have two Ringmasters this time.” He smiled at her and then turned, suddenly eager to see his visitors in person.
“Hugo,” Lucietta called out.
He turned back to her, trying to hold on to his patience. “Yes?”
“Please don’t hurt my brother. He might be a pain in the arse, but he’s family.”
A burning feeling rose into his throat. Hugo swallowed twice, trying to keep his explosive reaction hidden. He would do what the hell he liked with his prisoners, and there was nothing Lucietta or anyone else could do about it. But he managed a weak smile. “I’ll see what I can do, Luci.”
He turned and left before she could ask to put him in a nice cozy bed for the night and give him a tasty meal. If she hadn’t realized what he planned to do with them, that wasn’t his fault. It would have been obvious to anyone else.
He stormed along the hallway and then outside toward the massive storage barn where he kept all his bigger props for his shows. He entered the keypad code and took a deep breath as the door swung open. He loved the smell in here. It was a mix of wood, steel, and leather, tied together with air-conditioned coolness.
“Help! Help us!” Rilla’s voice was clear in the silence.
Hugo frowned. It was unlikely anyone could hear her, but he didn’t want to take the risk. He strode down the aisle toward the cage.
“Keep your voices down. No one can hear you.”
“If no one can hear us, why do we have to keep quiet?” said Rilla, an angry edge in her voice.
Hugo felt the rising tide of his own anger. He let it flow out just a little. “Because I’m the one with the gun.” He pulled out the weapon and pointed it directly at Rilla. It was a nice, small weapon, fitting perfectly in his hand. He had the satisfaction of seeing her flinch before Jack stepped in front of her.
“I don’t mind which of you I shoot. It will be equally as devastating for the rest of the Carnival. It’s teetering on the edge as it is.” He smiled, baring his teeth.
“That Carnival has been operating longer than you’ve had hot dinners, my boy, and it’ll still be going long after we’re all dead.” Blago stepped forward, his face grim.
Hugo shifted the barrel of the gun toward Blago. “That might be sooner rather than later for you, old man, if you keep running your mouth like that.”
“What do you actually want, Hugo?” Jack’s voice was calm, his tone reasonable. He clearly thought he could talk their way out of this.
Hugo almost snarled at him, his flare of anger so deep and fierce. “I want justice. I want the balance to be righted. I want the wrongs to my family corrected, and most of all, I WANT MY SON BACK!” Hugo yelled the last five words at the top of his lungs. They’d stolen his boy, the light of his life, and he wanted them to pay for it.
“The son you mutilated?” said Rilla. Jack moved again to shield her.
Hugo’s red-hot rage battled for supremacy, and it took a huge effort to push it back. He wouldn’t let the rage take over. He was stronger than that. He took a breath and then another.
Then he smiled. It didn’t mean he couldn’t play with his new toys. “No, don’t shut her up, Jack. She’s entitled to her opinion. Please, Rilla, do speak up.” The anger still bubbled near the surface, but Hugo had enough experience at hiding his emotions to save himself that he was able to keep his voice calm.
“You don’t deserve your son. He’s a good boy, a talented boy, and for whatever reason, the Carnival has accepted him back into the fold. You mutilated him, hurt him so badly that even now he’s still recovering. If you really loved him, you’d stay away.”
Hugo felt his left eye twitch, but his smile remained in place. He could deal with the red haze around the edges of his vision. He was strong. His father had made him strong. “You don’t know anything about Simon. If he’s a good boy, it’s because I’ve made him into a good boy.”
“So what will you make him now that you’ve taken to hurting him? More like you? Are you trying to twist him up, turn him into a monster?” Rilla’s face held the same scorn that filled her voice.
Hugo lifted his hand as if he could bat away the ghosts of emotion surrounding him. Simon knew he would never do anything to hurt him, not really. “Simon understands,” he whispered. “He knows I love him.”
“Simon is lying in a bed at the Carnival, still unable to move after the multiple broken bones you inflicted on him,” said Rilla, her voice low and angry. “He’s trying to recover from the hundreds of knife wounds his own father gave him. He’s been so traumatized by it all that he’d rather forget than think of his father in a bad way. But once he remembers, you’re not going to get him back. He’s going to know what kind of a monster he has for a father, and he’s going to run from you.”
Something burst in Hugo�
��s head. It shattered into a million pieces, tiny shards stabbing straight into his brain, causing pinpricks of pain and humiliation.
And it was her fault. She did this. He lifted his gun, took aim, and pulled the trigger.
Rilla was punched back against the bars of the cage and then fell unconscious to the ground. Blood poured out of her chest.
Jack rushed to her side, yanking off his jacket and holding it against her wound.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Hugo watched the scene in front of him. He hadn’t meant to shoot her. She’d just gotten too mouthy for her own good. He watched as the men in the cage tried to look after Rilla.
Frankie turned to him. “Hugo, you have to let us out of here. You’re not a killer, not really. Rilla will die if we don’t get her to a hospital.”
“You’re not going anywhere. Not until I get what I want. That was just a warning shot. Next time, it could be you.” His blood pounded through his veins. The initial shock of hearing the gunshot and seeing Rilla hit was passing. He felt very, very good.
“Sir. Mr. Blue.” Gerry appeared at his side. “I was listening to the police scanner. Someone just reported hearing a gunshot.” He glanced over at Rilla. “The police are on their way to investigate. You need to get out of here.”
It all became clear. They would leave now, and he would take Blago with them. The old man could show them the way, and it wouldn’t be difficult to keep him in line. Lucietta obviously still had some sisterly concern for him. He could use that to get what he needed from Blago. “Okay. I’ll take care of these four. You and the others need to leave here now. And unless you want to be jailed as accessories, keep quiet about seeing me. Of course, you’ll be paid, as usual.”
Gerry glanced at the group in the cage again and then nodded. “Thank you, sir. Have a good trip.”
Hugo smiled. “I intend to.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
First one step and then the other became faster, longer, and soon he was sprinting through the trees, branches hitting him in the face and chest.
Garth headed up and across, not following any paths, until he stood on a rocky outcrop over the Compound on the western side. He’d come here often as a boy, to get away from the noise and bustle of the Carnival and think.
Especially after his mother had died.
He felt closer to the Carnival up here, yet separate, different from the whole that he could see laid out before him. Farther away, the town of Madison was spread out, the lake to one side. He took deep, gasping breaths, trying to clear out the emotion hurtling around inside him.
He shouldn’t have stormed out. He knew it. But it felt like it was too much, too many fears and worries and secret agendas jabbing at him, pricking his skin until he needed to escape. Usually this time of year was his break, his time to feel nothing but the simple emotions of people on holiday, without the frustrations and stress of the season to bother them. They were dealing with far more than usual, and it seemed like he was about to tip over the edge into a place he couldn’t come out of. His gaze flickered over the Compound until it came to rest on a small black motorbike parked outside his house.
Maddy.
All of a sudden, he was filled with the terrible urge to see her, a compulsion that made his head feel as if it were being stabbed by a million little needles. Somewhere inside, he knew the only way to feel better would be to see her face, to feel her arms around him, her lips on his. Before he even knew what he was doing, his legs were propelling him forward, ploughing straight down the mountainside, through the forest, crashing and banging his way like a bear with no sense of direction. His breath came in great big huffs, and his eyes were half closed so all he could see were the fuzzy edges of shapes in the corners of his vision. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting to Maddy.
Soon enough, he was outside his house. He stopped for a moment, gasping for breath, trying to still his senses, to break down the overwhelming gush of emotion pulsing through him.
His whole body shook, shivering despite the burn from his run. Sweat ran down his face and into his eyes, blurring his vision and making his skin itch. Garth shook his head. His hair fell over his eyes, and he leaned over, putting his hands on his knees, still just trying to catch his breath.
Without warning, he was abruptly propelled into the Carnival otherworld, the strange other plane where the Carnival communicated its will to him. He felt the pulse of his power, this time being pulled away from him and into the Carnival’s core. As he watched, multiple surges of power lit up the Carnival’s heart as energy from every single member who was connected came pouring in. It distilled in the center, a great bundle of accumulated power, buzzing and spitting. Then it was gone, pushed outward along an almost intangible link that led somewhere into the distance.
Garth dropped back into the real world. Visions flashed through his mind, bright lights, faces, the sound of yelling, and then finally, the loud blast of a gun firing. He fell to his knees, pain reaching through his body, coming to rest in his chest.
He cried out, his arms curled around his torso.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Garth!” Even to her own ears, Maddy’s voice sounded high-pitched and scared. She’d come outside to see Althea off, only to find Garth lying in a dusty heap by the stairs.
She raced down to kneel at his side, touching his cheek, trying to see if he was alive. Holding her breath, she leaned in close and felt for his pulse. She let out a relieved puff. His heartbeat was strong.
Just then, Garth moaned, bringing one hand slowly up to his face. He rolled slightly and then emitted a sharp grunt of pain that sent a shiver through Maddy’s chest. She rubbed one palm over his forehead, smoothing the hair off his face, trying to soothe his pain.
“What’s wrong with him?”
Maddy could hear the fear in Alathea’s voice and knew she had to stay calm for both their sake. She smiled reassuringly at the young girl. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. But I can’t get him inside on my own. I need you to run and find someone to help me lift him.” Maddy tried to keep her voice steady. “Quickly now.” She held her breath until the girl had run off down the gravel drive toward the Compound, Alathea’s sneakers crunching loudly with every pounding step.
Maddy let out a hitching breath, her heart pumping hard in her chest. What was wrong with Garth? She couldn’t understand it. His face was sweaty, with dark patches under his closed eyes. His skin was almost translucent, and she could see the blue lines of veins running across his temple. She reached up and smoothed her hand over them, almost as if she could wipe it away and make him better.
His eyes stayed closed, but a small grimace of pain twisted his face. Maddy leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “It’s okay, Garth. We’ll get help,” she murmured.
Garth took an audible breath, his eyes rolling open a crack. He shut them again.
“Maddy…” He began, then cleared his throat.
“Shh,” said Maddy, leaning forward, cupping his cheek with her soft hand. “Just lie still. We’ll get you inside and try to figure out what happened.”
Garth rolled his head to one side. “I know what happened,” he said, a tremor rolling through his body. “Rilla was shot.”
Maddy glanced around, sudden panic running through her head. “Where was she shot? Here?”
Garth shook his head, then groaned. He waited a moment, then licked his dry lips. “She’s not here. I saw it. She’s been shot somewhere in Vegas.”
Maddy frowned in confusion. How had he seen it? “Did someone text you a video or something?”
“Maddy, help me sit up,” said Garth, a tired note in his voice.
He didn’t quite look her in the eye as he spoke. Maddy pursed her lips but reached out and pulled him up by one arm without saying anything more. Something told her she wasn’t going to get an answer that would put her at ease. There were currents running through the air around the Compound—she’d felt it from the very first moment she arrived. It was lik
e a buzz in the air, a faint tang of electricity. It made her feel alive, happier than she’d been in a long time.
But she’d known it would come at a cost, and something told her she was about to find out what that was.
“I think I can stand.” Garth’s voice was grim.
She focused on him, watching his expression for clues as to what he was thinking. But his face was a dark mask, pain the only thing she could read with any certainty. “We should wait for Alathea to come back with someone.”
Garth shook his head and leaned forward, trying to leverage himself up. With a huff of frustration, Maddy stood and leaned down to grab his arm and pull, wincing when she heard his gasp of pain.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Still avoiding her eyes, Garth nodded, breathing in and out in ragged breaths.
Maddy rolled her eyes. Something was wrong and he was avoiding it rather than facing up to whatever was bothering him. “Put your arm around my shoulders and lean on me. We’ll go slow.” She slipped in beside him. “Come on, let’s go.”
He held himself rigid for a moment but then sighed and gave in, leaning on her with his much larger frame. She took a small step and managed to carry him with her, his legs still quite unsteady.
“Are you sure about this?” she said. “We can wait.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want them to see me like this. There are enough issues floating around without them having to worry about me as well. Don’t tell them how bad it was.”
Maddy frowned, confused. So this was strange, even for him? It wasn’t some unusual aspect of being part of the Carnival? “Garth, tell me what happened. If I’m to lie about it, you have to tell me.”
“Or else?” Dark eyes bored into hers.
“Or else nothing. You just have to tell someone, and I’m the only person here.”
“You’re not the right person to tell.”
Maddy felt something small and fragile splinter in the deepest region of her chest. “Who is the right person? Rilla? She’s taken, Garth. You can’t pine after her.”