Challa (19 page)

Chapter 21

Separation

Do you know what my world does to people like you?

Outside the sun was brightly shining, the air was cool, and the smell of fall was in the air. To most everyone, it was a Chamber of Commerce day. Unfortunately, Challa could not appreciate the picture perfect morning when her soul was shriveling in blackness.

Lawson’s phone rang. Challa had come to hate hearing its doorbell ding-dong chime.

“Yeah? You got it. Start pulling stakes. The sheriff cleared her of any wrongdoing, so we don’t have to worry about the authorities putting out any roadblocks or anything looking for her. Okay. Fine. We’re on our way back now. Be there in a jiffy.” He hung up and shoved the cell back into his shirt pocket.

She kept waiting for his tirade, for the threats and accusations. But to be honest, Challa didn’t care anymore. Nothing he would ever say to her would hurt as bad as she did now. Nothing he could ever do to “teach her a lesson” would rip her apart inside the way she was being torn this minute.

Compton.

Even the thought of his name squeezed all the hope from her. Fortunately, Lawson mistook the reason for her tears.

“You damn well better be crying, young lady. After what you put me through. You’re damn lucky that sheriff didn’t throw you in jail. And then where would you be, huh? How long would you have been able to stay in there before you were forced to turn back into what you really are, huh? Answer me!”

“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.”