Hell's Menagerie (4 page)

He ran a shaky hand through his hair and let out a soft curse. Emma would never leave it at that. She'd never walk away from Brim. She had a plan, and seeing as she was her mother's daughter . . . Yeah. All hell was about to break loose.

“Rex,” she said. “A room.”

He hefted the cage again and started walking. “You know I'm technically already banned from Charbydon, right? The last thing we need is to cause a scene and get thrown into jail. Prison in hell is beyond miserable.”

“So am I if we don't save Brim,” she muttered.

As they headed away from the carnival, Rex realized they had only the pups, not the mother. He opened his mouth but then shut it again. No. He'd leave that one alone. Emma hadn't mentioned her, and he had a bad feeling as to why. With a weary sigh, he gazed at the pups. They bounced along as he walked, eyes and ears alert. His chest tightened as he thought of their mother. And Brim . . .

They found an inn off the market street, and after the tranquilizer, the extreme nausea, and subsequent visits to the Inn's bathroom, Rex was not in a good mood. He was downright pissed, angry, and ready to hurt something. Upon exiting the bathroom, he found Emma standing there with her arms crossed and foot tapping. Deep down, he knew she'd never leave without Brim, but he also knew he had to find a way to get her back home. This had gotten way out of hand.

“We're not going back,” he said, stepping around her to sit on the bed.

Emma whirled on him. “We're not going home. We can't. And we're not waiting for reinforcements. No one here cares. My mom is rescuing Hank. She's in another
world
, Rex. There's no telling when she'll get back. And if we contact Aunt Bryn or anyone else, then everyone will know what we've done. They'll get the law involved, and you know what Baasîl will do. He'll get rid of evidence.”

“And I told you, you're under my protection. If I had to choose, I'd pick you over Brim and those pups. And you know that's the right thing for me to do. Stop being a delinquent and just listen.”

“Stop calling me a delinquent! I'm not leaving here without Brim and the others.”

Oh, this was new. “What
others
?”

She reddened. “All of them.”

“All of them.” Jesus H. This was getting better and better.

Her chin stuck out. “Yes, all of them. Every single one of those animals in the cages. You didn't feel them. You don't know how they're suffering. This is what I was meant to do. I can hear them, feel them. Why would I have this power if not to help when I can?”

His voice softened. “You're twelve years old, Emma. It's not your responsibility. Maybe one day it will be, but not now. Look, right now we're safe. Baasîl got what he wanted. But once we go against him, there's no telling what he'll do . . . We'll get Brim back, but not on our own, not tonight. Not without help.”

“Then go away,” she shot back. “I'll do this myself.”

He rolled his eyes. “Uh. No.”

“I don't care how old I am or what you say! I'm doing this, Rex. And I swear, if you get in my way I will never forgive you. Never.” It hurt her to say that, he saw. Her lips trembled and tears slipped from her sad eyes. “You have no idea what I can do. I've figured it out. I know how to save them. Why can't you believe in me?”

Rex, who had an answer for most anything, didn't know what to say.

He did believe in her. But he was also her protector. And right now those two things seemed at war. He reached for her. “Emma, I can't let you do this. You can't . . .”

“Watch me.”

She turned and ran out the door. “Goddammit. Emma!” He ran to the door but then stopped, grabbed their key off the table, and locked the door behind him, securing the pups inside.

Rex glimpsed her darting out of the inn and into the night. He knew the direction she was headed, so he ran, weaving through the streets until he found his way back into the square. For a split second he caught sight of her ponytail, and then she was gone. The carnival crowd had grown, becoming louder, drunker, and more dangerous than during the day.

A knife juggler backed into Rex. Rex shoved the darkling fae away, causing the airborne knives to drop to the ground, barely missing his foot. He didn't care. He was trying to keep up. A dense pack of spectators had gathered around the match tent. He jumped to see over their heads and finally spotted Emma as she snuck down the narrow alley between the match tent and the menagerie.

A myriad of curses flowing through his mind, Rex followed. Emma reached the end of the alley and slipped behind the match tent. Rex edged his way down, wanting to shout at her, to call her back, but he didn't dare. It was too quiet back there, too much of a risk of being found by Baasîl's guards.

He stopped at the end of the tent and peered around the corner. The last thing he saw was a giant gray fist coming out of nowhere. The last thing he heard was Baasîl's soft chuckle and the words, “Put them in the show.”

—

WHY DID I
let her talk me into this? Why?

Standing in the arena with Emma by his side, facing a twelve-
foot-tall mountain troll, was just about as much as Rex could take. He laughed. And to top it all off, he was dressed like a clown. A macabre one. His entire face had been painted white like Emma's, their eyes circled with black paint. They looked like skeletons. Skeleton clowns in tuxedo leotards. No one would know there were two humans in the ring.

Baasîl apparently had no qualms about the law.

It was the finale of the night's performance. And Baasîl had just informed the crowd that Emma and Rex would face the snarling mass of muscle, fangs, and lunacy in front of them. It wasn't a question of if they could defeat the troll, but how long they could last before it tore them apart.

A flat club with serrated inserts of razor-sharp stone hung in the beast's massive hand. Mountain trolls were extremely reclusive, extremely volatile creatures. Once they felt threatened, they attacked with a frenzy that didn't let up until all that remained was a bloody mass of goo on the ground.

The crowd cheered. Money was passed from hand to hand. Trapeze artists swung overhead, and clowns climbed inside the chain links that protected the crowd. They, too, wore skeleton paint and black tuxedo body suits. Anyone inside or above was fair game. You fell, you got caught, and you were dead.

Baasîl settled into his private box. Behind him was Brim in a spiked collar. Attached to the collar were four stiff rods held by four jinn. The rods kept them safe and gave them control over the hellhound. Rex knew those rods could shock as well.

Rex had been one of the finest jinn warriors of his day—the best, some said. Powerful. Huge. Feared. But he hadn't been that person in aeons. He was human now, and his powers and strength were zilch compared to a jinn and especially compared to that hulking creature banging on the thick timber gate.

“When I say go, you start climbing the fence, you hear me? Get
to the top, and then you run. Use whatever power you can, hurt whoever you need to hurt, and get back to the portal.” Em didn't respond. Rex grabbed her shoulders. His hands were shaking. “Swear it, Emma. You get the hell out of here.”

Her large brown eyes looked even larger ringed by the black paint. She blinked. Maybe she was in shock. What was he talking about,
maybe
? She had to be. Hell, even he felt a sense of the surreal. Weak human in a huge arena, surrounded by a bloodthirsty crowd, with a fucking troll. He shook her. “Swear it.”

His heart pounded. They'd had so little time together. He'd lived for thousands of years, countless lives in one body after another, and he'd had a good run. He wasn't ready to go, but he'd be damned if he'd let one hair on Emma's head be harmed. He'd fucked up as usual, but she would
not
pay for his mistake.

Em's expression slowly transformed into . . . a smile? Rex did a double take. She reached up and cupped his face in her small, black-gloved hands. “I love you, Rex.”

“I love you, too,” he said absently, wanting to get back to that promise, wanting to know she'd run. He began to tell her so, but she cut off his words.

“I've got this.”

“Wha—?”

The timber gate groaned as it began to crank open. The crowd went wild. Shit. He swung his gaze back to Emma.

“Remember what I said,” she said, cutting him off again. “I know what to do. I figured it out. I'm scared to death. I didn't mean to get caught, that wasn't the plan, but . . . I'm not giving up.” She turned to look at Brim. He was shaking his head, struggling with the jinn and getting shocked repeatedly. “Just . . . keep it distracted for a minute, and don't get hurt. Brim and I will do the rest.” The gate went up. The troll burst through. “Trust me!” Emma gave him a blinding smile and ran toward Baasîl's box.

The confidence, the calm belief, in her expression—it stunned and humbled him.

The troll was in front of him. Dirt flew up as it slid to a stop and swung its heavy club.
Shit!
He dodged right. His hair moved in the breeze created by the club as it whispered inches from his head. He rolled sideways, popped to his feet, and dashed to the other end of the arena, arms pumping, eyes wildly searching for Emma.

She was in front of the box. Two of the jinn holding Brim blew backward. She'd used her power. Brim flung his body, trying to shake off the other two. He rammed the rods into the bench. One snapped off at the collar. The other hit Baasîl in the head, sending his top hat flying.

Rex couldn't see more. The troll swung at him again. He dove to his left and hit the ground as the club slammed down next to him so hard, it vibrated the ground. He scrambled up and ran.

The roar of the crowd filled the space. The thumps of their boots on the wooden benches sounded in time to the frantic beat of his heart. “Emma!” He found her again, this time a blur as she sped past the troll's right side. He ran for her. From his peripheral vision, he saw commotion as Brim, free of the box, plowed through the crowd, trying to find a way down to the holding gate where the troll had been released.

The troll was after Emma. She screamed and rolled beneath its massive feet as it swung its club. Rex grabbed her and threw her behind him.

Brim bolted through the holding gate, the two broken rods still clinging to his collar. He'd made it.

Emma ran right. Brim ran left.

They darted by the troll, one after the other, confusing it. Finally, it shook its head, turned, and zeroed in on Rex.

“Distract it, Rex!” Emma shouted.

“Why am I always the bait?” he muttered, and then shouted, “Come and get me, you big bastard! Take your best shot!”

—

EMMA WATCHED REX
wave his arms, jog in place, and roll his shoulders while talking smack to the troll. It charged. Rex screamed.

Now, Brim!

Brim's muscular hindquarters bunched and he took off like a rocket, sweeping around the oval arena toward Rex. Just as he was upon him, he veered sharply, spraying Rex with dirt and then charging the troll headlong as it raced down the centerline. Brim leapt. His massive jaws latched onto the troll's bare shoulder. His body flipped over, twisting in midair. But he held on, the troll's flesh twisting in his mouth and tearing.

It worked. The momentum tipped the troll backward, knocking it off balance. It backpedaled, dropping to its rear, its lethal club coming to rest in the dirt as its hand reached out to stop itself from falling completely on its back.

Brim released the troll and ran behind Emma. Her heart beat so fast, it made her dizzy. Fear numbed her entire body. This was it. She had to do this. Now or never and all that. If they were going to get out of this alive—all of them—she had to act, and act now.

She ran and leapt just as the troll leaned forward to push itself to its feet. Her body slammed against its shoulder. Her breath whooshed from her lungs, but she kept to the task and wrapped her arms around its thick tusks, facing it. The stench of its breath was beyond gross and triggered her gag reflex. Her eyes stung. Yet there was something intelligent inside that thick skull. She had glimpsed it when it had lunged at her in the menagerie.

She had to make eye contact.

This was her power. This was her gift. Her skin tingled like it was asleep. She caught its gaze, met it eye to eye. Emma gave
herself over to her power. With everything she had, she forced her way inside and sank into the troll's mind.

A huge, beefy hand slapped onto the back of her head and squeezed as it prepared to yank her off.

There. There you are.
The hand stopped squeezing but didn't let go.
And here I am. You're going to be just fine . . .

Emma realized, as she'd pretty much suspected all along, that besides being able to communicate, she could influence. She could force her will upon a creature, which was why she'd always been so careful with Brim. She never wanted to do that, never wanted their relationship to be one of master and slave.

But this creature . . . this one was different. This one was hard, the connection weak.
But I'm strong,
she reminded herself. She was stronger than the troll, not physically but mentally. And that's where it counted.

Pain spread through her head. But she kept on, knowing the beast wanted a way out, was desperate to escape. It needed to know she was on its side, that freedom was at hand. She heard Rex shout. Heard Brim's ferocious growl. And then she drifted, remembering her lessons in the backyard with Rex—always on concentration, always on control, always on tapping into the core of one's power. And Rex, the way he'd wave his hand and always say, “These are not the droids you're looking for.”

She laughed inside.

She knew what to do.