Vagabond Circus Series

by Sarah Noffke

  “Sunshine, your taste for vengeance kind of scares me.”

  The girl slid her sinister eyes on Jack. “Oh, does it? Well, then stay on my good side,” she said and stood, taking the position in front of Jack and extending her hands to him.

  He laid both his in hers, leaned forward, and pressed his weight into his feet. Most people just moved, but Jack had to think about each movement. It wasn’t automatic yet, which was the other barrier to his success with the circus retaliation plan. Twice he tried to push up to a standing position and twice he failed, but on the third attempt Sunshine leaned back, pulling him up with some of her weight. When he stood properly he pulled his hands from her.

  “Thanks,” he said, only inches from the girl. “And I intend to stay on your good side.” Feeling steady, he pressed a piece of her curtain of black hair back behind one ear. The movement made him sway on his unsteady feet, but Sunshine, sensing this, pressed her hands onto Jack’s hips.

  She wasn’t smiling as she looked at him, but if he had her empathesis then he’d know she was happy in that moment. Jack’s hand moved until it was just under her chin, barely touching her, but she felt his heat. And when Jack leaned down close to her upturned face she felt his breath. His lips almost grazed hers when at their back someone coughed loudly. Jack smiled and lifted his head to look over Sunshine’s shoulder at the entrance to his trailer, which he’d moved back into permanently.

  “So, I guess the wedding is off?” Zuma said, leaning in the doorway.

  Sunshine turned with a cat’s expression on her face. As she did she grabbed Jack’s hand and wrapped it around her shoulder to keep him steady on his feet and also for the simple fact that she wanted to be near him, close.

  “Yeah, about that,” Jack said, a laugh in his voice. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, I don’t think it’s going to work between us.”

  “Well, I’m simply devastated,” Zuma said dryly, strolling into the room. She plucked an apple from the gift basket a fan had sent to Jack with well wishes. Zuma took a colossal bite from the shiny red apple with her big mouth, then as she chewed she said, “Seriously heartbroken.”

  “You’ll mend,” Jack said, leaning a bit more weight on Sunshine than he’d like, but not wanting to sit again. Standing felt good.

  Zuma took another bite and with the apple between her fingers she pointed to the pair. “So this happened? Congrats.”

  “You teach a boy to walk again and he becomes infatuated with you, what can I say?” Sunshine said.

  “Hmm,” Zuma said. “I’ll remember that.”

  “You don’t need to go find a paralyzed victim though, Z,” Sunshine said.

  The acrobat paused. It was the friendly tone in Sunshine’s voice that struck her oddly. “Yeah, why is that?”

  Sunshine tossed her long hair over her shoulder as she shook her head. “Oh, you know why.”

  “Did you come over here on your own?” Jack suddenly asked, his eyes changing with worry.

  “It’s two trailers down,” Zuma said, rolling her eyes. “I’m tired of being caged and supervised.”

  “You know it’s for your own good. You aren’t safe by yourself,” Jack said.

  “I’m fine, Jack. I was coming to check in on you and your progress with the plan,” Zuma said, chucking the half-eaten apple in the trash.

  “Well, we need to make a change, but I’m hopeful,” he said, looking down at Sunshine.

  She looked up at him briefly before directing a sincere gaze back at Zuma. “Great circus retaliation plan, Z. It’s pretty impressive that you came up with all this.”

  “Thanks. Titus and I hammered it out together,” Zuma said.

  “And if we pull it off…” Sunshine said, trailing off with a hopeful expression.

  “Then we will be free. We can save Dave’s circus,” Zuma said, completing the thought.

  “Exactly,” Sunshine said. “Thanks for that, Z. For working so hard to save us all. You actually have somewhere to go and you stayed instead.” Zuma’s home was ten minutes away. She could have been in the safety of her mansion and had the comfort of her loving family. But she remained at Vagabond Circus, enduring the dangers.

  “You know that I’m as willing to leave this circus as you are, Sunny,” Zuma said.

  The empath nodded, a look of pure respect on her face. “I know.”

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  A hopefulness Zuma hadn’t felt since before Dave died dared to enter her chest. It was a result of so many things: Oliver’s freedom, Titus’s confidence, Jack’s happiness, and now Sunshine’s friendliness. No, things were not all right at Vagabond Circus, but they felt like they had a potential to be…one day.

  Zuma turned down the narrow row that separated the performers’ trailers from sleeper row. Now she had to find out if Ian’s vision had shifted. Was the one where the curse was broken and she experienced happiness a future reality? That was also the reality where Jack and Titus and so many others had the best possible futures. It was the one Dave died to protect.

  Jack had tried to stop Zuma from leaving his trailer alone, but she’d been unkind and sprinted out the door, knowing he couldn’t chase after her. Besides, she hadn’t seen Sebastian all day and guessed he was busy doing some errand or other for Knight. And Zuma needed to get things done. Everyone at Vagabond Circus was following her coordinated plans and that meant she had to ensure everything was perfect. She had to talk to Ian one last time before everything fell into place. Zuma knew that she couldn’t pull the trigger on the plan unless the future spoke the right message. Something clunked in the bottom of Zuma’s stomach. What if the future wasn’t right yet? What would she do then? Feeling suddenly panicked by the thought Zuma sped up, and just then her combat sense caught the movement.

  She halted just in time to avoid colliding with Sebastian as he stepped out, blocking the space between two semis.

  “Hey there, sweetheart,” he said, his hands pressed into the pockets of his black jeans.

  Zuma had been stupid. Careless. She flipped her head over her shoulder and gulped. She’d been an idiot. There, standing behind her, blocking the opening between the semis, was Gwendolyn. The girl, using her super speed, had blurred into the spot and now stood with her arms crossed in front of her tiny chest. Gwendolyn was smaller than Zuma. Not really a match. But the time and energy she took to fight the girl, to push her out of place, would give Sebastian the time he needed to put his hands on her. It had been their plan all along. Sebastian had been biding his time, waiting until Zuma was too reckless and went off on her own.

  Zuma whipped back around to face Sebastian, only three feet in front of her. Gwendolyn at her back stood at the end of the semi, some forty feet away. She had seen the proud look in the girl’s eyes. It was no secret that the girl once named Power-Stopper despised Zuma. Her eyes were constantly narrowed at her and then they’d shift to Finley with pure adoration.

  “So, you caught me,” Zuma said to Sebastian, her eyes on him, but actually studying the place under the trailers on either side of her. Were the spaces big enough for her to slide through easily before he touched her?

  “It appears I have,” he said and pulled his long-fingered hands from his pockets. They hung by his side, like guns in holsters, ready to be whipped out and shot.

  “What is your deal?” Zuma said, and it was obvious she was stalling, but Sebastian didn’t seem to mind as he trailed his cold eyes over her, not hiding their up and down path. “Why do you hate me? Why do you want me dead?”

  He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “I don’t hate you. Not at all. I want you,” he said and like his master there was a hiss to his words. Sebastian shrugged, almost looking remorseful. “Wished when I touched you it only paralyzed you, instead of giving you a cardiac arrest.”

  “What?” Zuma said, her heart hammering wildly in her chest. Behind Sebastian she couldn’t make out much, only empty circus grounds and more trailers in the back.

  “Well, then I co
uld do what I want to you over and over again,” Sebastian said, and then there was the regretful shrug again. “But unfortunately once I touch you, you’ll die. Then you’ll grow cold. And cold bodies aren’t as much fun.”

  Zuma thought she was going to hurl right then. Her hands hugged her stomach. Stalling wasn’t helping. Soon she’d have to charge at Gwendolyn or dive under the trailer. She had to do something. Try and escape somehow. She dared to turn sideways. This was to give her a way to scope her options, but she directed her voice to Gwendolyn. “And what, are you just going to watch? Are you a sicko too?”

  Zuma’s combat sense told her Sebastian flinched on the other side of her. And Gwendolyn flexed with a new anger. Pissing them off was a part of the strategy. People didn’t react as fast when angry. What most didn’t know was that hostility fills a body with heat and cool bodies move faster. Zuma knew this though.

  “I’m not a sicko,” Sebastian said and took a step forward. “I’m misunderstood.”

  Zuma copied his step, backing up. “No, you misunderstand. I’ve read your thoughts and you are the grossest of humans and completely out of touch.” Then she flicked her eyes at Gwendolyn. “And you’re just as out of touch to think he would ever want you.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gwendolyn said, her face flushing with both anger and embarrassment.

  “Who? Who does she want?” Sebastian said, looking at Zuma. He looked a little amused, like this secret was of great interest to him. In truth, Sebastian’s only friend was Gwendolyn and he thought he knew her.

  “Gwendolyn wants the guy standing behind you,” Zuma said and the words stole her breath, both due to fear and also exhilaration.

  “I’m not turning around,” Sebastian said with a laugh. “Nice try though.”

  “It’s better if you don’t,” said Finley, who had materialized like a bullet. Quick and then frozen, like he hit an invisible wall.

  He’s standing too far away, Zuma thought. But he still stood there. His eyes were on Sebastian’s back, his fists clenched, making the veins in his arms bulge. Inside her head she felt Finley there, a presence she hadn’t felt for too long. It was like a fire on a cold night. His thoughts everywhere and then also nowhere in her mind. Intangible as smoke. You’re mine, Zuma. Think and know you’re mine, he said over the telepathic link.

  Sebastian’s eyes widened in shock when he heard Finley’s voice. He shot forward, his poisonous hands reaching for Zuma. She didn’t race backward as he would have expected. Instead, she closed her eyes and thought something very real. I belong to Finley. And just before Sebastian closed the gap between them, Zuma was suddenly wrapped in something, but it was too much of a blur to catch. And then she was gone. Vanished. Sebastian turned, thinking she was behind him, as Finley had been. But the space was empty. No Finley. No Zuma. He turned back, only to find Gwendolyn standing in between the trailers, shaking her head, repulsion on her face.

  “He got away with her,” she said.

  “Why didn’t you stop him, Gwendolyn?” Sebastian said, realizing Finley had teleported Zuma away. “You could have stopped his power.”

  “I know, but it happened too fast,” she said. And in truth, it had happened fast, the series of recent events, but not too fast for Gwendolyn. It had merely been that she’d been distracted at the sudden sight of Finley. He had that effect on her. Made her heart pause. Her pulse gallop.

  ***

  Finley and Zuma appeared quite suddenly in his trailer, his arms firmly locked around Zuma. She had her head pressed to his chest, eyes closed. The last time she’d teleported with Finley, when they were in Knight’s compound, she’d almost thrown up all over him. It was a disgusting thought right then, because the last thing she wanted to do was be sick. The girl found that her arms were tight into her chest, having barely a second to register what was going to happen when Finley popped into her thoughts. He’d simply said in her head, You’re mine, Zuma. Think and know you’re mine. She knew instantly that this meant he was going to rescue her from Sebastian by way of teleporting. That’s what she had to do for him to teleport with her. He had to hold her and believe she was his to take. And she had to believe she belonged to him. It wasn’t a hard thought for her to think. It had been a forbidden one, but usually those kinds are the easiest to feel. The forbidden ones.

  And Finley had rescued Zuma, who was seconds away from being Sebastian’s victim. But Finley had teleported in front of her, using his super speed he’d wrapped his arms around her, and then he’d teleported them both away. Sebastian had lunged for the girl and Finley nearly was touched by the outstretched hand. Nearly. But he was fast and every movement precise, as his father had taught him.

  For a long minute Zuma didn’t open her eyes, although she knew they were safe in Finley’s trailer. It smelled of him, a warm smell. It felt like him, safe and comforting. She pulled in a long breath and with it the smell of Finley, his arms and body all around her. The girl knew that soon she’d have to open her eyes. To look up at the guy in front of her. Then he’d back up and push her away with his tortured gaze. And because she didn’t beg and couldn’t force him, she’d leave the trailer. He’d follow her, only to ensure she didn’t have another run-in with Sebastian, but he’d follow her as he always did, at a distance.

  “Are you all right?” Finley said, his mouth close to her ear, his breath brushing her hair.

  Zuma nodded, her head still down, her eyes still closed. And then as she’d been expecting, he pulled his arms off her. It was a fast movement, like she suddenly burned him with her skin. His arms had only been the device he’d used to transport her. Even though she wasn’t Ian she had read the future well, because as soon as she lifted her head and opened her eyes she saw him backing away, giving her that look. The tortured one.

  “God, Zuma!” he said, his tone punishing, his mouth tight. “What were you thinking?”

  The sudden rush of adrenaline from her near death experience had left Zuma feeling zapped of energy now that she was safe and alone with Finley. “I don’t know,” she said and dropped her chin. She’d put up with so much since Knight had come to Vagabond Circus. Been strong for so long. Pretended not to feel the pain of losing Dave and Jasmine. But as Finley had suspected, her spirit was suffering. The girl of stone was being tarnished by the hot winds that Knight produced and the constant headaches. “I just…” She shook her head, feeling more haunted by the memory of Finley’s arms protectively around her than Sebastian’s recent threat. “Never mind. I’m sorry,” she said and turned her back to him.

  Finley cleared his throat, but found he couldn’t speak. He hadn’t been alone with Zuma in a very long time. It felt like an indulgent pleasure right then, and that was the worst thing ever for a guy who didn’t allow himself to have such things. Again he cleared his throat and in a voice that wasn’t quite his he said, “Where were you going? I’ll take you there now.”

  While Zuma’s back was still to him, he saw her shake her head. “No,” she said, and there were tears in her voice.

  Is she crying? he worried. Was it because she’d almost died or because he was hurting her, as he had so much over the last few months? Hardly speaking to her. Leaving without acknowledging her. Pushing her away.

  Zuma reached into her pocket and he noticed then she was shaking as she pulled out her cell phone. “I’ll have Ian come and get me,” she said, and her voice cracked then with what Finley knew for certain were tears.

  “Stop.” The word jumped out of Finley’s mouth. He hadn’t even known he was going to say it. “I’ll take you to Ian.”

  She shook her head again, this time more furiously, her whitish blonde hair swaying with the movement. Zuma’s hand was still shaking, Finley observed. He stepped until he was in front of her, a series of graceful movements. She had been crying, a tear hanging on the edge of her jaw. Finley made to reach for her but stopped himself. She had been broken so many times since he met her and he was responsible for all of it. W
ith the back of her sleeve she pushed away the heavy tear that still clung to her skin.

  “You’re safe now. I won’t let Sebastian hurt you,” Finley said.

  Zuma didn’t bring her eyes up to Finley’s, although she wanted to. “He can’t hurt me. He can only kill me,” she said, and knew that was right. The death he delivered was probably quick and almost painless. And then her mouth opened and the rest of what she was thinking fell out. “The only one who really hurts me anymore is you.”

  Slowly Finley’s eyes fell shut as his chin tensed. She was right and he had zero response. Even his father hadn’t punished Zuma with headaches in a while. She had been able to avoid him since Santa Barbara, spending all her time coordinating in the shadows.

  Again Zuma brought the cell phone up, her hands shaking. She swiped through the phone, finding Ian’s number. Zuma knew what she’d just said was hurting Finley, since he was still frozen, his eyes closed, his chest tense. She turned from him to give him space. To give him the privacy to wear the hurt on his face. She pressed the phone to her head. It rang once. Twice. Three times. Zuma blew out a frustrated breath when it went to voice mail.

  Ian had gotten the call. Knew what Zuma wanted. But he wasn’t going to help her. She needed to stay where she was.

  “Damn it,” she said and ended the call, not leaving a message. Then Zuma found Titus’s number. Before she could call a hand reached over her shoulder, taking the phone from her. She froze. The girl didn’t turn to Finley to ask him why he’d taken her phone. She pulled in a steadying breath, trying to figure out what she should say now that they were locked in that tiny space alone. But before she could she felt the most unexpected thing. Arms belonging to Finley wrapped around her from behind. His arms slid over hers. His chest pressed into her back. And he didn’t stop until he was locked around her, his head pressed up next to hers.