Poison Princess (45 page)

“I just had a hot blonde dropped into a
Caged Heat
scenario with me.” Finn waggled his brows. “A
chesty
blonde—with
all
her teeth. As my Flash-fried redneck cousins used to say, ‘I'm happy as a pig in shit.' ”

Plant association or not, this self-important, smirky boy was getting on my nerves.

When he relaxed back against the side of the cage, I said, “You probably have someone coming to save you?”

“I can get out of this at any time.”

“Really?”

“I only let them capture me so I could get close to that daughter. I'm a magician, hotness. Getting out of binds is what I do.”

“
The
Magician,” Matthew said.

Finn's chest puffed out. “Damn straight, dude.”

If he was an Arcana, then he had powers of some sort. Still, I couldn't buy his total lack of worry. “Well, we have friends who are coming for us,” I told him under my breath, my words full of assurance. “We'll be rescued soon.”

But time kept passing. One hour. Another.

For afternoon amusement, some soldiers set up target practice nearby—three moaning Bagmen impaled on spikes. One Bagger looked freshly turned, one had no legs, and the other no arms.

The soldiers opened fire and the Bagmen writhed and gurgled. Chunks of slimy skin flew off the targets, plopping near the cage, fouling the air.

I held my arms over my head to block out the gunshots, the moans. . . .

By late afternoon, I caught myself wondering why Jackson and Selena—two hard-core survivors—would risk their necks against tremendously shitty odds to rescue their pair of deadweights?

How strong was Selena's influence over Jackson?

As much as I wanted to believe in our rescue, my current predicament—freezing, huddled in a cage, starving—wasn't boosting my optimism.

Much less my
future
predicament.

And Matthew would say nothing to help. Did he not understand what was about to happen to us?

By sunset, I was awash in doubt. Why wouldn't Jackson and Selena just run off together and be happy, without all the hassle, without all the danger? How many times had Jackson told me I was more trouble than I was worth?

I wondered how I would recover if he'd truly abandoned me here.

I wondered how I'd feel if he got killed trying to save me from these ignorant militiamen.

My eyes watered. At that moment, I hit my limit of fear and confusion and . . . and
people
. I was sick of them! Sick of danger lurking around every corner.

“Is
everybody
evil now?” I murmured to no one.

I had the strangest urge to shove my fingers into the dirt and feel them . . .
take root
. What if I could tap the earth and become a soldier at attention? I wouldn't even have to be a girl anymore, just a part of something so much bigger.

If I surrendered, there'd be no more worries about Jackson, no more fears about facing the red witch—or Death.

Such a seductive pull . . . as alluring as a ripe berry. I gazed at the sooty ground with contemplation.

Then I grew ashamed. What would Mom think of me now? The woman who'd tackled a Bagman would never surrender like this.

“Yeah, everybody's totally evil now,” Finn said, jarring me from my thoughts. “What, didja miss the memo? Dickwads. Pretty much uniformly, in my experience. All evil, all the time. But not
me
.” In a grand ringmaster's tone, he breathed, “I'm
mischievous
. . . .”

I turned to Matthew. “Once again, anytime you feel like contributing, please do. We need to figure out our own escape.”

He nodded winningly. “Cards.”

“Yes, Matthew, but you really need—” A wail sounded from the nearby woods. I shot up straighter. “What was that?”

“Bagmen at the gates, baby,” Finn said, excitement flashing in his hazel eyes. “It's almost showtime. I've only seen this from a distance before.”

Suddenly the earth quaked, an explosion rocking the camp. I cried out. The deafening blast was so strong my teeth clattered.

Bits of debris rained down through the slats of the cage. Smoke billowed. Men yelled from all directions, barking orders for fires to be put out.

Matthew yawned as a larger explosion followed.

When we heard a raging
whoosh
from that giant cistern toppling over, I shared a stunned glance with Finn.

Bagmen in number. A cistern of water.

“We'll be overrun,” he said. “A pretty ballsy distraction. Did your people make with the mayhem?”

Chaos had broken out among the militia. “Yeah. Our people.”

Smoke and fog blanketed the air until we could barely see five feet away.

But we could hear panicked soldiers all around us, fighting to secure their encampment. Then we heard a strangled yell:
“Bagger breach!”
They were past the militia's defenses.

Guns popped, men screamed—and Bagmen howled as they swarmed the camp. The trio of guards in front of us shifted nervously, guns rattling in their shaking hands.

“Evie!”
Jackson?

“I'm here!” He'd come for me!

An arrowhead suddenly jutted from one guard's back. I just choked down a scream as he collapsed, twitching on the ground.

Jackson's arrow.

The two remaining guards grew spooked, rifles at the ready, but they couldn't see their enemy to fight.

Another arrow protruded from a second guard's neck; he twirled toward us, patting his throat in bewilderment before he drowned on his own blood. The third guard got wise—and fled.

Then I spied Jackson sprinting through the smoke, hell-bent for our cage. He shoved soldiers out of the way, battering them with the end of his crossbow.

He skidded to a stop right before me, scanning me for injuries. “
Bébé
, are you okay?”

I nodded wordlessly.

“I'm goan to get you out of here.”

“The door's padlocked, Jackson.”

“Putain.”
But that didn't stop him. He drew back his mighty fist and punched the boards, again and again, ripping at them to get to me. Splinters and blood flying.

I glanced behind him, caught sight of that third guard returning. Right when I was about to scream, Jackson yelled,
“Selena, my six!”

The tip of a long arrow emerged from that guard's chest. He'd just pitched onto his face when Selena came running up. My vision had come true.
Sure enough, she saved someone I . . . love.

“Come on, J.D.!” she yelled. “It's going to blow!”

What
was going to blow? Something bigger than the current earthshaking explosions?

As Jackson freed Matthew and me, Finneas gawked at Selena—probably from witnessing her tableau, possibly because she was so freaking gorgeous anyway. “
Another
chick? Hellooo, hotness.” Though we were surrounded by a melee, Finn took his time checking her out. “Dude. It is
raining
hot ass today. Screw the toothless daughter—I'm coming with you guys.”

His bindings fell away. Sure enough, he'd escaped them.

Jackson grabbed my upper arm, and we started running, back in the direction of the van. I thought.

As we sprinted past the worst of the fray, I noticed several flaming arrows plugged that gas tanker.
Time bomb.

“Come on, Evie!” Jackson was hauling me along; the rest of our group had run ahead. “You got to be faster than this!”

“Trying!”

He had just slowed, probably to toss me over his shoulder, when a soldier emerged from a bank of haze—with a rifle pointed at Jackson's face.

It was Cou Rouge, the one who'd taken me. He wasn't more than a few feet away—and he had Jackson dead to rights. “Just be steppin' away from her, all nice and easylike, and we'll let you go.”

Jackson evinced no fear. “Not goan to happen.”

“We only want the girl.”

“Well, now, that's a problem,” Jackson grated, “ 'cause I just
got
her.”

Cou Rouge shrugged. “Suit yourself.” His finger tightened on the trigger.

Oh dear God, he was about to
shoot
, and Jackson couldn't stop it,
I
couldn't do anything—

The man pulled the trigger.
Click.
Nothing.
Click.
Nothing.

Empty?

Cou Rouge gaped at his gun, then at Jackson, at the chilling expression on the boy's face.

The same look I'd seen that night in his house, the one promising pain; now it seemed multiplied by a thousand.

I was seeing how much Jackson was about to
savor
the pain he promised.

Cou Rouge gave a whimper just before Jackson lunged forward, one of his brutal fists connecting with the man's jaw.

The man went down from a single hit, limp. But Jackson hauled him back up, beating him more, seeming mindless with rage. “Only want the girl?” Another blow shattered the soldier's nose. “Worst thing you could ever have said!”

“Jackson!” I cried. “Please, let's go!”

The man's face grew unrecognizable, shapeless, and still Jackson beat him. I wasn't witnessing a fight, or a rescue. I was beholding
punishment
.

A sentence.

When Matthew casually trotted back for me, catching my arm, Jackson yelled, “Get her out of here! I'm right behind.”

“Come with us, please!” I screamed as Matthew forced me away. “Nooo, Matthew! Go grab him!”

Matthew chuckled at that, then shoved me forward.

“Go back, go back!”

He just continued squiring me through a minefield of explosions, brawls, and Bagmen, maneuvering me in different directions.

One time he yanked me back against his chest—just as a bullet whizzed past, missing us by inches. A few seconds later, he palmed my head, shoving me to my knees, and I heard some kind of shrapnel whistle directly above me.

I realized he was seeing a maze of present and future, a web of occurrences visible only to him.

As if he were fate itself. . . .

Still I begged him to go back for Jackson—until I spied soldiers pursuing us.

By the time we'd spotted Selena at the edge of the charred woods, dozens of militiamen were on our trail, calling for their comrades to “Get the girl!”

Selena intercepted them, with two rifles tucked against her sides. She blasted away at them, allowing Matthew and me to dive into a nearby ditch for cover.

A handful of shots sang over our heads, then stopped abruptly. From their shouts, it seemed our pursuers had realized Selena was a
she
, and ordered a cease-fire.

Selena didn't follow that order. When they took up positions in a gully opposite us, she emptied her guns at them. Then she dropped into the ditch with us.

As the soldiers decided what to do—they couldn't risk
two
females by storming us—Selena snapped, “Where the hell is J.D.? Damn it, there was
one
person I wanted to see come out of the camp. Not you two.”

I cried, “He wouldn't come with us!”

“And you took no for an answer? I would've
made
him come with me! You're not good enough . . .” She trailed off, her attention seized by something beyond our makeshift bunker.

I turned to find Finn strolling past the rednecks to hop down with us. “Yo.”

I found my voice first. “You just . . . walked right by them?”

With a cocky air, he brushed off one shoulder, then the other. “Told you I was a magician.” Then to Selena, he said, “Finn's my name. Getting you back to my pad's the plan. You just tell me when this stalemate gets old, because I can seriously change this channel.”

Selena didn't seem nearly as shocked as I was. She merely patted her bow and said, “As can I.”

“You think you can take out more than I can?” Finn scoffed. “You're on.”

Should I point out the obvious? “Kid, you don't have a
weapon
.”

He chucked me under the chin. “Not to worry, sugartits, I got this.”

With a roll of her eyes, Selena charged up the rise, her bowstring singing.

Finn followed, and began to . . .
whisper
to the rednecks?

The sound of Selena's archery was uncanny. In the smoke and confusion, I peeked up over the ridge and saw her shooting arrows with an impossible speed.

A
supernatural
speed.

Her skin was glowing with that blood-tinged hue—like a hunter's moon.

Beside her, Finn raised his hands, softly chanting in a language I'd never heard. His breaths seemed to be searing, as if he were diffusing the air with heat. I perceived
power
, and he was directing it at our attackers.