Challa

by Linda Mooney

  “Not all night,” she managed to murmur. For the umpteenth time she glanced down at the underside of her arm. At the smooth, unblemished expanse of white skin running from her elbow to her wrist.

  * * * *

  “But what if a blood line doesn’t form, Kreesi?” Amfinn asked.

  “Then he is not your blood mate,” the oldling firmly stated.

  “But what if you orgasm, and he smells you, and all the other signs are there?” insisted Breftu.

  Challa glanced over at the oldest of them. Breftu was always challenging authority. Always looking for a way around the inevitable.

  Kreesi sighed. “If there is no blood line, no other Ruinos will accept the mating. Plain and simple. No exceptions. No excuses. Now, let me talk to you about taking caring for your wings.”

  * * * *

  No exceptions. No excuses. If there is no blood line, no other Ruinos will accept the mating.

  That is why I must leave, Compton. Because I was wrong. It’s not because you’re human that the line won’t form.

  She had been telling herself over and over, ever since she noticed the lack of blood line in her arm that his being human was the reason it didn’t form. She had tried to convince herself that Compton really was her blood mate. All this time she had been making excuses. Making exceptions. Until another shock wave thundered through her in the middle of giving her testimony.

  Maybe it’s because you’re human that I felt the other things. Maybe I had an orgasm because you’re human. Maybe I smelled you because you’re human. Maybe I wanted to believe all the other things so badly I was willing to overlook the one proof positive. But the blood line…my one true sign…was telling me the truth all along. It was exactly as Kreesi said. I just didn’t want to believe it.

  Then, by all the stars in heaven, why did she feel like her insides were being rendered to pieces?

  “Hey, Challa. That guy didn’t do anything to you, did he?”

  That’s the problem. Everything he did, I loved. “No. He was nice to me. He let me have a place to sleep.” She fingered the borrowed dress. “He gave me this to wear.”

  “Where’s your outfit?”

  She shrugged. “It was torn pretty badly.”

  Lawson grunted. “Fucking kid. Fucking drunks. Well, you have a spare, so that shouldn’t be a problem. One more thing…” His voice trailed off, the question unspoken but clear. Challa shook her head.

  “No, Lawson. He didn’t see me change. He thinks it’s a costume…like everyone else.”

  She heard his sigh of relief. “At least that’s one big worry off my chest,” the man said, then added what she had been waiting for him to say. Knowing he always ended his speeches with the inevitable.

  “You have no idea what my world would do to you if they ever found out the truth.”

  It wasn’t the first time she’d lied to Lawson. It wouldn’t be the last, either.

  Pressing her fist to her lips, Challa turned her head to gaze out the passenger window. They were on the narrow road leading to the fairgrounds. In the distance she could see the main tent had already been struck, as well as most of the rides. Everyone was busy packing and loading, getting prepared to take off as soon as Lawson gave the order.

  They wouldn’t be staying for a third night. The carnival wouldn’t be here when Compton came to see her. And neither would she be waiting for him, packed and ready as she’d promised.

  “Where are we going next?” she managed to ask as he slowed to pull into the parking area.

  “What do you care?”

  At first his comment stung. Then she realized he was right. Why should she care? It didn’t matter which way they went. She belonged to Lawson Hall and his world famous sideshow. It was a lot like being a prisoner of the Arra, except he didn’t torture her like they did. At least not in the physical sense. Plus, he did allow her some freedom to go shopping in the small towns where they set up camp.

  The carnival gave her food and a place to sleep. More than that, it protected her secret from the people who would try to do her harm if they should ever discover what she really was. Among the carnival folk, she could freely walk about as Ruinos, and no one would question her, or even look twice at her. Carnies were used to their own kind practicing in makeup or costume once they were settled in.

  He pulled to a stop in front of his bus and got out, checking to see if Challa was following him. Until last night, she had always been trustworthy. Until last night. Last night had been a first for all of them.

  She watched as Allen filled him in on their progress. From the looks of it, she guessed they would be able to hit the road before noon. That would give them a good six hours’ head start before people started coming out to the carnival and discovering the field was barren. No harm, no foul, as Army often said. Nobody paid for a ticket until they got here, and all transactions at the local grocery stores were paid for up front. Which meant the carnival never owed anyone any money when it came time to pull up stakes and head on to the next town.

  “Hey! Challa!”

  Hearing Lawson’s call, she jerked around.

  “Go check to see if Marlene needs any help.”

  Nodding, she took off toward the main cluster of vehicles to see if anyone was in need of an extra hand.

  Chapter 22

  Gone

  Compton was already in his truck, heading for town when his cell rang. He flipped it open without checking first to see who was calling.

  “Your nickle. Start talking.”

  “Yo, Comp.”

  “Hey, Maxwell. What’s cooking?”

  “I’m pissed. What else is new?”

  Compton chuckled. “Okay. I give. What pissed you off today?”

  “Damn carnival split town.”

  Compton slammed on the brakes, nearly skidding the truck into the ditch. His heart was thudding so loudly, he almost couldn’t hear Max’s ranting.

  “Whoa! Stop! Say that again?”

  “I said the carnival is gone! Can you believe it? They said they’d be here for three nights. Well, this is night number three, right? But there’s no sign of them!”

  “Where are you?” He eased back onto the road and did a U-turn. County Road 80 was about two miles away. From there he would take the back road to get to where the carnival was located.

  Was. As in used to be.

  He heard an exasperated sigh. “Where do you think I am, ‘dumm-Comp’? I’m sitting here, looking over the field where the damn thing used to be!”

  Fortunately for Max, he was the only person in the world allowed to use any of Compton’s old derogatory nicknames to his face and live.

  Compton didn’t need to double-check Max’s statement about the carnival being around for three nights. Every poster he’d seen had said the same thing. Even Challa had promised she’d see him tonight, after which she’d have all her things packed so that he could take her home with him. A home they would share for the next forty or so years.

  Damn it, Challa! What happened?

  “Are you sure you’re on the right road?” As soon as the words were out of Compton’s mouth, he knew he was stalling.

  “Compton!”

  “Okay, okay. Look, I’m on my way out there.”

  “You are? Why?” Max’s questioning clearly revealed his puzzlement. Mostly because the guy didn’t know the importance of his discovery.

  “I’ll tell you when I get there.” Compton closed the lid on his phone without waiting for a reply and tossed the cell onto the passenger seat so he could concentrate on pushing the speed limit. As soon as he pulled onto the dirt road, he felt his stomach sink to his feet. Hearing the news had been one thing. Seeing the empty field was like an illegal blow below the belt.

  Max’s mustard yellow truck was parked on the side of the road. Max stood beside it, waving him down. Compton pulled up behind him and killed the engine. He was out of the truck before Max got to the door.

  “Ain’t it a bitch?” Max groused.
“I wonder how long they’ve been gone?”

  “At least since nine this morning,” Compton answered, staring out over the trampled earth. The place was clean. There wasn’t a piece of paper or a speck of glitter left to show there had even been a carnival on the premises. Nothing but footprints and a few holes in the ground where the tent poles had been.

  Challa!

  “Why did they bug out?” Max continued to question. “Think it had to do with what happened last night?”

  “Five will get you ten, that’s why.” Compton pressed his lips together, unable to believe it even as he was looking at it.

  Challa, why did you go?

  “Well, shit. I was hoping to see what they were going to do tonight with the alien girl. I had a Hamilton riding that they weren’t going to let her go onstage. How about you?”

  “Huh?”

  “You look as pissed as I feel. Were you planning on coming tonight? Is that the deal?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh, well.” Max turned to head back to his pickup. “You win some, you lose some. Tough titty. Hey, I’m thinking about shooting some pockets over at Doug’s. Why don’t you join me? First rack’s on me.”

  Compton waved him away. “No, thanks. I’ll take a raincheck.”

  “Suit yourself. See ya!” Compton’s best friend climbed into his truck, turned around, and sped off toward town.

  Compton spent a few more minutes looking out over the deserted acreage then climbed back into his truck. Turning the vehicle around, he dodged a couple of cars filled with teenagers, noting how they slowed down upon seeing the empty lots. Gonna be a lot of unhappy people tonight, myself included. It was only a little past six. Things didn’t start hopping until around eight, with the sideshow opening at eight thirty.

  But he wasn’t about to sit on his butt and bemoan the fact that Challa was gone. Compton was certain of two things—Challa loved him, and there was no way she would have voluntarily left unless something…or someone…had convinced her to.

  And he would be willing bet a Hamilton that that “someone” was Lawson Hall.

  Chapter 23

  Search

  The sheriff was on the phone when Compton ushered himself into the man’s office. Barstow gave him a little wave and motioned toward the empty chair. Compton sat and waited for the call to end.

  “Yeah. Uh-huh. Well, I’m sorry to hear that, too, but there’s nothing I can do. I’ve already checked with the merchants, and they all tell me the carnival was free and clear. Yeah. Yeah, that’s right. I cleared the woman of all blame. She was inside the cage when the boy jumped her. She reacted in self-defense, plain and simple. Uh-huh. All right. All right. Thanks for calling. Bye.”

  He dropped the receiver onto the cradle then moaned as he rubbed his face with both hands. “Let me guess. You’re back because the carnival shipped out, right?”

  “Any idea where they went?”

  “Nope, and I don’t care to find out. Other than that little tiff last night, they haven’t broken any laws, and they don’t owe nobody nothing.” Barstow narrowed his eyes at Compton. “Care to tell me why you want to know?”

  “It’s personal, Larry.”

  “Don’t tell me the girl walked off with something of yours.”

  “No. I told you. It’s personal,” Compton repeated.

  The sheriff leaned back in his padded chair, fingers drumming on the armrests. “Comp, how long have we known each other?”

  “Since third grade.”

  “Yeah. And we’ve been though a lot together, including Barry Brewster and his gang of little shits. And now you’re going to sit there and not tell me what’s going on?” Getting suddenly to his feet, Barstow shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “This morning I got vibes from you that said you had a big stake in the young lady’s future. I’m getting those same vibes now, old friend. So give it up. What aren’t you telling me? Are you and that girl…”

  “Yeah, Larry. We hit it off. In fact, we did more than hit it off.”

  A huge grin split the sheriff’s face. “Hot damn! The Comp’s fallen head over heels! Congratulations!” In the next instant, the smile disappeared. “But the fair skipped town. Maybe I should be offering my condolences.”

  Compton frowned. “Not so quick, Larry. Challa swore to me she was staying with me after her last act tonight.”

  And then it hit him. It was like finding the right key to fit the keyhole.

  “Fourth act?”

  “What are you mumbling about?” Barstow asked.

  “Hall said something about Challa performing her fourth act tonight.”

  The sheriff shrugged. “So?”

  “Last night was their second night here in town. Challa told me she was doing her second act when that jerk jumped the stage. That meant tonight would have been her third act, not the fourth one.”

  “Maybe you misunderstood.”

  “Or maybe, when Hall told her she had to get ready for her fourth act, he was secretly telling her they were preparing to leave.” Compton rubbed his chin. “They didn’t pass through town on their way out, did they?”

  “No, and we both know why. Why sneak away then go down through the middle of town where you’d be advertising it?” Walking around to the front of his desk, Barstow took his usual stance by leaning against it. “Comp, don’t take this wrong, but what if the girl was just taking you for a ride?”

  Compton started to shake his head, but the sheriff persisted.

  “No, listen to me. Go home and check your house. Make sure she didn’t lift something of value while she was there. You know how carny folk are.”

  “What would I have of value for her to steal?” Compton almost growled. “For God’s sake, the woman had no compunction about being with me. I showed her what was left of my leg. What the explosion did to me. And she didn’t care! She honestly didn’t care! She didn’t flinch, she didn’t make a face. Larry, we connected!”

  Barstow grinned. “I’m thrilled for you, man! I really am. But you have to ask yourself, if you honestly did connect, and I’m not saying you didn’t, but if you did, why did she leave anyway?”

  “I’m thinking Lawson Hall had something to do with it,” Compton admitted. There was no way he would tell Barstow everything. Hell, Maxwell was as close as a brother to him, and there was no way Compton would open up to him, either.

  “Sooo, what are you planning to do? Go after her? Let’s say you find her. What then?”

  He nodded. “When she tells me to my face it was all an act, that her feelings weren’t the real thing, then I’ll back off and come home.” Compton gave the man a hard stare. “But she wasn’t faking last night. Neither was I.”

  “She must be one special little lady,” Barstow said.

  “Larry, you have no idea.”

  “Any way I can help?”

  “I was hoping you’d offer.” For the first time in a long time, Compton smiled. “I need to find out which way they went.”

  “That shouldn’t be that much of a problem. I can send out bulletins to every law enforcement agency in a two-hundred-mile range. They may be using the back roads, but sooner or later someone’s bound to spot them. That caravan is pretty hard to miss. As soon as someone sends word, I’ll give you a call, okay?”

  “Appreciate it, Larry.” Getting to his feet, Compton shook hands with the man.

  “Where you off to now?”

  “Home,” Compton answered, heading out of the office. But his next stop would actually be the gas station to fill up. And after that, the bank to put a little cash in his wallet.

  He was hoping it wouldn’t take long before Barstow found out where the carnival had gone, or at least which way it was heading. Because once he got word, Compton would have his duffel bag packed and ready to leave.

  The hard part wouldn’t be tracking the carnival. The hard part would be the waiting.

  Chapter 24

  Ill

  Challa normally rode with the Lebrands wh
en the show was en route. Cora worked concessions, and Gilles was the head mechanic for the rides. They were an older couple who had never had children of their own, so the carnival’s nomadic way of life suited them perfectly. They had a nice-sized van, and Challa had adopted one of the rear seats as her own. There, she could huddle down and read or sleep. Or, in this case, be alone with her thoughts. Thoughts of Compton. When she wept, no one would see or hear her way back in the vehicle. Not when the Lebrands liked to rock with the Beatles blaring through the speakers.

  Every half-hour or so Challa would look down at her arm and curse it. What was the point of loving someone when she couldn’t prove it? Why would fate send her to Compton, but not allow her to have him?

  She had been a youngling on that slave ship. She had no firsthand experience knowing what her homeworld was like. Her parents had been captured and brought aboard the Arran ship. There, they had been forced to copulate, only to discover they were true blood mates. After repeated torture for refusing to have children, they had complied. Challa heard she was their third child. The other two had been sold to other worlds. Yet for some reason she never understood, the Arra had kept her, although they isolated her away from her parents.

  It wasn’t until Simolif came to gather her and the other younglings being held in a separate part of the ship, and took them to the escape craft, that she found out about her parents’ deaths. About how they had refused to bear any more children, and how Heela, her mother, had died from the resulting punishment. Doon passed away in his sleep a few days later. Challa had always wondered if it was because of his grief over losing his mate, or from the adjac wounds inflicted on him when he had refused to obey the Arra.

  She ran her fingers over her inner arm, down the unmarked flesh. A warm tear drop fell onto her knuckles. The further the distance stretched between her and Compton, the darker the blackness inside her grew. Everything inside her told her Compton was her mate. Every nerve fiber sang his name. Every muscle, every cell waited for his piquant scent to descend over her again. She was like a raw gem, needing him to delicately carve her into a perfect, precious stone with his love.