Defender Raptor (Protection, Inc: Defenders, #2)

by Chant, Zoe

  Tawny, Leona, and Leopold lounged in the lion’s cage, grooming each other and trying to look as happy as possible. Larry Duffy, playing the big cat trainer, introduced them, discussed their care and feeding, and offered to let the inspectors pet them.

  Tawny got up and rubbed her head against the bars, letting Larry scratch behind her ears. Mr. Varnham declined, but Ms. Moore remarked, “Who knows when I’ll ever visit a circus again?” and gave her a quick pet. Her expression softened a tiny bit. “Her fur’s like velvet!”

  “The cages are roomy and clean,” Mr. Varnham said, a little grudgingly. “Very clean. And the lions seem healthy and relaxed.”

  Behind the inspectors’ backs, Dali squeezed Merlin’s hand. He squeezed it back gratefully. Hope was building in his heart. The cages were incredibly clean, far more so than any last-minute cleaning could possibly have managed. The shifters were working overtime to seem as happy and unstressed as possible: the sea lions swam and played in their tank, the flying squirrels glided around and cracked nuts, the tigers lounged and licked their paws, the cats and poodles slept and played, and the horses waited placidly in their stalls.

  “We always set up camp by a field where the horses can graze and gallop, of course,” Kalpana explained. “They’re in their stalls now because they’re about to perform.”

  “The cats and dogs live with their owners,” Merlin added. “The cages are just so we don’t have to round them up for the show.”

  “Hmph,” said Mr. Varnham, but he could find nothing to criticize. He did, however, fix Merlin and Kalpana with an eagle eye and say, “Keeping the animals in good conditions is only part of what we’re looking for. I can’t come to any conclusions until I see how they’re treated backstage and onstage.”

  And then they came to Pete. The cage was big for Mia, but small for Pete, so he was lying down in an attempt to minimize his size. It didn’t work. He was enormous, his claws long and sharp as daggers, his black eyes glittering with intelligence and ferocity. Everything about him spoke of the majesty and terror of the prehistoric beasts which had once ruled the earth.

  The inspectors stopped still, staring at him.

  Pete, who had presumably been instructed to look happy, began nosing at a ball with the same grim determination that he’d had riding the unicycle.

  Merlin had to work hard to keep a straight face. Inside his mind, his raptor was rolling around on the ground in hysterics.

  “Is that a Kodiak bear?” Mr. Varnham asked. “It’s enormous!”

  “Yes,” said Kalpana. “Yes, he’s a Kodiak.”

  “It’s not at the level of a violation of the Animal Welfare Act,” Mr. Varnham said. “But all your other animals are in very roomy cages, and comparatively, this one is too small.”

  “I absolutely agree,” said Merlin. “He’s grown too big for us, actually. We’re in negotiations to donate him to a zoo.”

  Pete gave a soft growl. Everyone involuntarily stepped back.

  “Yes...” said Mr. Varnham, eyeing him and taking a second step back. “Yes, I think that’s for the best. He doesn’t seem happy here.”

  Merlin, unable to resist, said, “I think he’ll be happier when he’s with his own kind.”

  Pete fixed him with a deadly glare and gave a warning huff.

  Hurriedly, Kalpana said, “Mr. Varnham, Ms. Moore, let’s get you two set up for the show.”

  She hustled them out, Merlin and Dali following. They glanced at each other, unable to speak without being overheard. Merlin’s amusement faded away when he saw the look on her face. Once again, she seemed so sad. What was wrong?

  Cautiously, he said, “How’s everything going?”

  Dali’s dark eyes studied his face. For the first time since they’d met, he thought she was hiding something from him. And he was convinced of it when she put on a fake smile and said, “Fine, Merlin. Everything’s fine. Good luck with the show! “A second later, she said, “I mean, break a leg!”

  But he had a feeling that the damage had been done.

  CHAPTER 20

  I’m doing the right thing, Dali thought. And I have to stop thinking about it, or I’ll be so heartbroken that I’ll be distracted from my job. The show has to succeed. It’ll be my good-bye gift to Merlin.

  She widened her fake smile, then hurried to catch up Kalpana and the inspectors. Once the show started, Dali would be in charge of making Mr. Varnham comfortable and answering any questions he might have, as Kalpana would be in the stage manager’s booth above the audience, running the lights and sound. Dali would also be in charge of making sure that Mr. Varnham didn’t see anything suspicious.

  Kalpana left to escort Ms. Moore to her seat in the audience. Backstage, Dali escorted Mr. Varnham to the chair and tiny desk they’d set up for him. “Here you go. You can see most of backstage from here, and watch how the animals are treated. You’ll also be able to see them perform, though it won’t be the best view. If you need me, just wave. But please don’t move from this spot without some escorting you. We’ll have animals taken in and out, and people moving heavy scenery—it could be very dangerous.”

  “I understand,” he said. But Dali caught his wistful glance at the several coffee makers backstage, placed carefully away from the action. Unexpectedly, she found herself sympathizing with him. He was obviously doing his best at a difficult job, and just as obviously liked animals.

  “Cream and sugar?” she asked.

  For the first time, he cracked a smile. “Yes, please.”

  She fetched him a cup, then took off. She had to get away from the inspectors and Merlin and... Well, mostly Merlin. It was breaking her heart every time she looked at him.

  Focus, Dali told herself. Pretend you’re not planning to break up with him. It’s the only way you’ll get through this show. And for his sake, you need to get through the show.

  Outside, in the cool night air, she took several breaths to steady herself. A full moon was rising. It was a beautiful night. They’d already passed part of the inspection, with the happy animals in their nice clean cages. They just needed to get through one performance. They could do it.

  She could do it.

  She owed Merlin that much, at least.

  Dali returned backstage and watched with amusement as Merlin and the designated “squirrel trainer” carried a cage full of flying squirrels inside. A light of suppressed laughter danced in his eyes as he opened the cage. One by one, the squirrels were handed tiny knives, which they clutched in their teeth as they scampered up the ladder and into the rigging, where they would wait for their performance.

  Mr. Varnham watched this procedure closely, but seemed to find no fault with it. Nor did he frown when the “cat trainer” walked in with a precise line of cats following her, and made clicking sounds to command them to sit down in their designated area, which was a giant cushion.

  Max was ready in his ringmaster’s outfit, his top hat perched on his head, his giant moustache freshly curled. Roland and Ransom, both dressed in stagehand black, waited on either side of the target.

  “Where’s the target boy?” Max asked.

  “You may have to go fetch him,” said Roland.

  “No, they’re shoving him out of the dressing room now,” Ransom said.

  Carter emerged from the dressing room where he’d been hiding, looking immensely pained, wearing boots, skin-tight sparkly pants, and nothing else. Eyeliner accentuated his hazel eyes. As he stepped into a well-lit area, his chest glistened. A giggle escaped Dali’s lips, and he glared at her. Ominously, he said, “It’s not too late to trade places, you know.”

  Pretending she hadn’t heard, Dali picked up one of the headsets, which was how Kalpana communicated from the stage manager’s booth. “How are we doing?”

  “Fine, fine,” said Kalpana. “How are you doing?”

  “Everything looks good here. I’ve got Mr. Varnham set up with coffee.”

  Kalpana gave an unexpected giggle. “I’ve got Ms. Moore set up with s
oda and popcorn. She wasn’t going to accept it, but I pointed out to her that everyone else had drinks and snacks, and she might stand out if she didn’t. She insisted on paying for it, though. I have to respect a woman that dedicated to her job.”

  “So do I.” And Dali could think of another woman who was dedicated to her job. “Hey, Kalpana, can I ask you a personal question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Were you ever in the running to be heir to the circus?”

  “Oh, I’m not eligible,” Kalpana said. “I can’t shift. And you know how much trouble that caused Merlin.”

  “He wasn’t a shifter when Janet chose him, though.”

  Without bitterness, Kalpana said simply, “Yes, but he’s her son. Oh—can you call five minutes, please?”

  Dali walked around backstage, outside, and in the dressing rooms, calling, “Five minutes, please! Five minutes till showtime!”

  She was answered with a chorus of “Thank you, five minutes!” plus a few groans. Dali also received a remarkably dirty look from Fausto Fratelli, presumably because she was Merlin’s girlfriend and thus an enemy by association.

  By the time she had finished her rounds, five minutes had passed. The headset light was blinking with Kalpana’s call sign. Dali picked it up.

  “Call places,” said Kalpana. “It’s showtime.”

  Dali ran around calling, “Places, please! Take your places, please, the show is about to begin!”

  When she was done, she breathlessly picked up the headset and reported, “Everyone’s in place.”

  As the lights went down in the ring, a familiar presence stepped up beside her, sending a familiar thrill down her spine and warmth to her heart. Merlin whispered in her ear, “It’s showtime.”

  Max strode onstage. From where Dali stood, she could look out from the side and see most of the stage. A spotlight went up on him. He doffed his top hat and made a deep bow, then straightened and said, “Welcome to the Fabulous Flying Chameleons, where humans and animals come together to bring you the most astounding—the most amazing—the most fabulous spectacle you’ve ever seen!”

  Dali had heard his speech before, but it was even more exciting when she heard it from backstage.

  “And now for the Wheel! Of! DEATH!!!” Max declared.

  Roland and Ransom carried out the target wheel and placed it center stage.

  “Looking good, Carter,” Merlin whispered. “Very shiny.”

  “See if I ever fix anything for you again,” Carter muttered, giving him a death glare.

  With a dramatic gesture, Max announced, “Please give a hand to our handsome and courageous target boy!”

  Carter wiped the death glare off his face and replaced it with a surprisingly charming smile. He walked onstage, smiling and waving at the crowd, his oiled chest gleaming. The audience cheered appreciatively, especially the women.

  “He forgot to do his shoulders,” Dali whispered.

  “No, that’s correct,” Merlin whispered back, vainly turning his coffee mug upside down over his mouth in the hope of coaxing out one more drop. “The squirrels have to land on them, remember?”

  Dali swallowed a gulp of laughter at the image of flying squirrels skidding off Carter’s shoulders. “Want more coffee?”

  “Yeah, but I’ll get it. You need to stay here. You want some?”

  “Yes, please.” She glanced at Mr. Varnham, who seemed mildly bored by the lack of animals except for the cats snoozing on the pillow, and said, “Some for him too. Cream and sugar.”

  As Merlin took off, Dali watched Ransom and Roland tie Carter to the wheel. Max spun him around, and the flying squirrels swooped down to throw their knives and outline his body. Carter kept determinedly smiling for the whole thing, including when he got untied and the squirrels landed on his outstretched arms and head.

  The audience went berserk, clapping and cheering. Carter strode offstage, still covered in squirrels. As he passed Merlin, he muttered, “We will never speak of this again.”

  Merlin, grinning, said, “Wanna bet?”

  The lights dimmed for a scene change. Under the watchful gaze of Mr. Varnham, the “flying squirrel trainer” whistled at them. The squirrels launched off Carter, leaving pink scratches on his arms and shoulders, and scrambled back up into the rigging.

  Dali breathed a sigh of relief. “Made it through the first act.”

  Merlin gave her a quick kiss that sent her nerves tingling deliciously. “Thanks to you.”

  Don’t think of the future, she ordered herself. This moment is the only moment there is.

  She managed it—mostly—only because she had so much to do, overseeing everything backstage. She breathed a sigh of relief when the cat act went fine, with the Zimmermans marching in formation and pretending to follow the commands of Rosine Richelieu, who played their trainer.

  The next act was one of the biggest and most complex ones in the entire show, in which flying squirrels rode cats who rode French poodles who rode horses. Especially since each set of animal required a “trainer” to hang around and pretend to be watching over them and giving them commands from backstage.

  But it went off without a hitch. The atmosphere backstage was one of near-manic glee as the act concluded, and the horses (still ridden by poodles, who were still ridden by cats, who were still ridden by squirrels) began to trot offstage.

  When the first set arrived backstage, their “trainers” reached in their pockets and gave the horse a carrot, the poodle a doggie treat (Dali didn’t miss the poodle glaring, but he gamely crunched it), the cat a cat treat (the cat was either a better actor or actually enjoyed it), and the squirrel a peanut. Mr. Varnham actually cracked a smile when he saw the animals getting their treats—as well he should, given that it had been arranged for his benefit.

  Dali could hardly believe it. They were actually pulling it off!

  That was when she heard a familiar buzzing noise. Cloud landed on her shoulder.

  CHAPTER 21

  Merlin nearly had a heart attack when he heard the buzzing of dragonfly wings. His first, horrified thought was that Blue had followed him. How the hell could he hide a bright blue bugbear the size of a Saint Bernard who knocked over everything in his path?

  When he saw that it was Cloud, he felt relieved for a fraction of a second before horror took over again. He lunged to hide the flying kitten, but Dali was quicker. She neatly stepped behind the nearest horse, plucked the kitten from her shoulder, and popped her into her purse.

  Merlin shot a quick glance at Mr. Varnham. To his immense relief, the inspector was watching the flying squirrels returning to their carrying case, and had clearly missed the sudden appearance of a kitten with dragonfly wings.

  The horses were being led out, depriving Dali of her cover. He darted to her side and beckoned her inside the clown car.

  “Good catch,” he whispered. “The inspector didn’t see a thing.”

  Dali, her right hand inside the purse, whispered back, “What if she starts meowing?”

  “I’ll make sure some cats stay backstage to cover it up,” Merlin whispered. “Keep her in your purse. She probably just missed you.”

  Inside the clown car, he and Dali were crouched side by side on the floor. Their body heat warmed the air, fogging the flower-painted windows. It felt like a secret, intimate space for just the two of them.

  “Would you think I had a weird kink if I was to say...” he began.

  “...that this would be a great place for a quickie? If that’s a weird kink, I have it too.” But a moment after she said it, she frowned as if she’d said the wrong thing, and the sparkle and heat in her eyes vanished.

  She scrambled out, leaving Merlin bewildered. She didn’t seriously think it was a weird kink, did she? He climbed out of the clown car, still puzzled, when the lights dimmed for a scene change. Then he had to laugh at his own self-centered-ness; she hadn’t been thinking of him at all, she’d just realized that she had work to do. But it was a laugh of relief. Nothin
g was wrong. It was only that Dali was dedicated to doing her best at everything she did. It was one of the things he loved about her.

  The jugglers were the next up. As Ransom started for the ring, he froze so suddenly that the juggler behind him almost collided with him, then whispered urgently to Merlin, “Watch the left-hand tunnel!”

  Hitoshi tugged at him, whispering, “Come on, we’re up.”

  Reluctantly, Ransom let himself be pulled onstage. The lights went up on the jugglers, and they began their act.

  Dali and Merlin looked at each other, then toward the tunnel. It was one of two dimly lit underground entrances leading into the ring. They could barely see into the opening, but no one seemed to be there. Merlin used that entrance later in the show, to enter as an acrobat, but no one was supposed to be there now. Cloud meowed urgently.

  “Shh, shhh,” Dali murmured.

  Merlin looked from the tunnel to the line of cats marching outside.

  Protect Dali, said his raptor.

  Obviously, his raptor was right. Merlin rushed after the cats and Rosine, their “trainer,” catching them just as they went outside. Speaking softly, he said, “I need some of the cats backstage. Mostly I need the kittens. Tell them to meow every couple minutes. We have a kitten backstage we need to cover up. It’s a long story, I’ll explain later.”

  The cats neatly separated. Half of them headed off to wait in their cage with Rosine, while the parents formed another line with their kittens. Merlin took the head of that line and marched them back inside and to their cushion. Mr. Varnham glanced at them, but there were so many animals coming and going that he clearly found nothing odd about it.

  Until all the kittens meowed at once, making a piercing wail that seemed to drill into Merlin’s brain.