Vagabond Circus Series Boxed Set Read online

  “Oh, you really know how to make everything difficult, don’t you?” she said, trudging off.

  “I do,” he said, following her out and down the stairs.

  Once in the kitchen Finley was relieved to find they were alone. The rest of the family were gone or in another part of the house. Zuma went to work filling up two bowls with cereal for them and laying out fresh fruit and milk. Finley pulled himself up to the breakfast bar on a cushioned stool and watched her. She moved absentmindedly, her brain obviously off somewhere else while her body worked on autopilot. He knew at once this was a routine she’d done a thousand times, and now he was here in her home, being served by her. It made him simultaneously happy and fearful. Soon this moment with Zuma would be over. Their time together done. Even if they remained partners, he would never have her attention, not like this.

  “Are you afraid about being caught?” she asked, taking the seat one over from him, keeping a distance she thought necessary.

  “What?” Finley said, blinking back into reality.

  “Is that why you look so lost?” she said, stirring her cereal, not looking real intrigued by the prospect of eating it.

  “Yeah, I guess, along with a thousand other worries,” he said, doing the same thing with his own cereal. Finley had never actually had cereal before. It always seemed so appealing to him packaged in its colorful boxes with catchy names. Now as he stared at the clusters of nuts and flakes he wasn’t so sure.

  “Maybe you’re just worried about Jack and me, because you can’t really be caught, can you,” she said without a question in her voice.

  “Why would you say that?” Finley asked.

  “Well, you could always teleport or race away, right?” she said, forcing herself to take a bite.

  “Yeah, but things are different when we enter Knight’s compound,” Finley said, his eyes looking without seeing. “Once inside that warehouse I can definitely be caught.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to get you to explain to me,” Zuma said, sounding frustrated. “How are things different there? What are we facing? How could you be caught?”

  “He has a girl, Power-Stopper, and that’s what she does,” he said. “She makes it so a Dream Traveler’s gifts don’t work. All she has to do is be around someone to stop them from having their gift. Power-Stopper patrols the warehouses continuously. That’s one of the reasons it is so hard to escape. I’m mostly powerless around her.”

  “Wait, is that what Knight calls her? Power-Stopper?” Zuma asked.

  “Yeah, we’re all called by our main gift until we’ve completed enough jobs. Then we get to pick our own name,” Finley said, his voice mechanical. “I was, of course, ‘Teleporter’ for a few years.”

  “So you chose the name Finley?” she said, sounding almost impressed.

  “Yeah,” he said with a shrug.

  “Oh, I wish I could have picked my name,” Zuma said with a morbid laugh.

  “I like your name,” he said quietly.

  “You wouldn’t if you knew why I was named this,” she said, repulsion written on her face.

  Finley raised a curious eyebrow at her. “Well, now I have to know.”

  “My parents named all their children after where they were conceived,” she said, her face going red. “They’re really too weird for their own good.”

  Comprehension dawned on his face. “Oh, soooo…”

  “Zuma Beach,” she said, nodding. “Right down the road.”

  “And your sister, Sicily,” he said, his face lighting up. “That’s actually pretty entertaining.”

  “It’s sick,” Zuma said, but kind of laughed. “So if this girl, Power-Stopper, is always patrolling, then how’d you get away?”

  Finley’s eyes dropped to his uneaten cereal. “I knocked her out from behind. Apparently her power doesn’t work when she’s unconscious, which allowed me to teleport away.”

  Zuma’s mouth popped open, her eyes widened, and a smile lit up her face. “What? You hit a girl?”

  “I had to if I was going to get away,” he said, shrugging.

  “How old is she?” she asked.

  “Fourteen,” he said and then looked up at Zuma for the first time. “I’m not proud of the things I had to do, but that’s what happens in situations like mine. I had to take extreme measures to get away and that involved risks.”

  “Finley, I’m not judging you poorly for what you did,” Zuma said. “I wish you’d share with me more stuff, like how you got away. If I knew more…well then…I don’t know,” she said, unable to really say what she’d do if he was different.

  He studied her, curious what she meant and wasn’t saying. However, he decided not to press. Now wasn’t the time. “Anyway, you have to watch out for Power-Stopper. She’s a small redhead and if you see her, run. Her power operates at less than ten yards away, but she shares my skill of super speed, so if she catches you then you’ll be powerless.”

  “Okay,” Zuma said, and then she looked up and her face grimaced at something behind Finley.

  A girl with Zuma’s almost-white hair cruised into the kitchen, passing by Finley on his barstool. However, she halted and reversed as soon as she got a good look at him. The girl turned to Finley, giving him a seductive stare. She was shorter than Zuma and younger by a few years. And on her small frame she wore a black mini skirt and a tight tank top. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” she said, twirling her pink fingernail through the air like she was tracing Finley’s silhouette. “Hello, Romeo. What God dropped you off on my doorstep?” she said, her voice dripping with confidence.

  Finley’s eyes widened in surprise as the girl slid into the spot between Zuma and him at the kitchen bar. He craned his head around the girl and gave Zuma a look of concern. She didn’t see it as she was too busy rolling her eyes.

  “Finley, this is my little sister, Dakota,” Zuma said, no inflection in her voice.

  “Dakota,” he mouthed back to Zuma when she looked at him; there was a smile in his eyes.

  They both giggled over this. But Dakota had a serious expression on her face and her brown eyes were pinned on Finley.

  “I might be the little sister, but I’m more mature than Zuma in every way,” she said, an emphasis on the last two words. She extended a hand to Finley. “Pleasure meeting you, Finley.”

  He took her hand and wrung it lightly. “Nice to meet you too.”

  Dakota’s eyes fell to their clasped hands. “Oh, rough hands. I like that. Just like Jack.” Then she turned to Zuma and said in a loud whisper, “He’s even cuter than Jack. I can’t believe it.” She said all this like it was her great fortune.

  Zuma shook her head and looked at Finley. “As you can tell, my dear sister is a little flirty. Please excuse her lack of decorum.”

  “Sooooo,” Dakota said, turning her provocative gaze back on Finley, ignoring her sister. “Are you as strong as Jack? Stronger maybe? You’re an acrobat, right? That’s why you have the rough hands? Why don’t you flex? Show me firsthand how strong you are.”

  “Do. Not. Flex,” Zuma said. Her head fell into her hands from the embarrassment. “It only encourages her.”

  Pretending not to hear her sister again, Dakota said, “On second thought, why don’t you take off your shirt and then I can really compare you to Jack.”

  Zuma reluctantly brought her eyes up to find Finley looking quite amused, but his lips seemed to be sealed shut. “I don’t have to tell you not to take off your shirt, right?” she said to him.

  Finley almost smiled at her but stopped himself.

  “Speaking of Jack,” Dakota said to Zuma. “Where is the love of my life?”

  “He,” Zuma said, “has gotten himself into a world of trouble and we are going to go risk our lives today to rescue him.”

  “Oh!” Dakota said, slamming a hand over her red-lipsticked mouth. “Bring him back safely. That’s the man I’m going to marry.”

  “Thanks for the concern for my well-being,” Zuma
said flatly.

  Again her sister seemed not to have heard her. Instead, Dakota turned to Finley, a devilish look on her face. “That is, unless you want to be my one and only,” she said to him. “We’d make gorgeous babies together.”

  “Thanks, but…I…uhh…” Finley stuttered out, spying the look of mortification on Zuma’s face.

  “Oh, I get it,” Dakota said. “Scared of commitment. Not the baby type. I can be flexible in our arrangement. Whatever you want.”

  Zuma’s senses told her at once that a certain someone was approaching. “Ohhh, good. Because this can’t get any worse,” she said and turned for the entrance to the kitchen.

  “What?” Finley asked, looking at her.

  She indicated to the entryway which was soon filled by a large man. Her brother had their father’s brown hair and their mother’s gray eyes. He was built like a Swedish shot putter though, towering over most at six feet and five inches. The guy stopped in the entryway and sized up the room with a brooding stare.

  “What do we have going on here?” he said in a deep bullish voice. It wasn’t his real voice and the way he had his shoulders held back and his chest forward wasn’t his normal stance. It was the one he used for company. “Who are you?” he said to Finley, his voice like that of an angry giant.

  Finley shot Zuma a look of concern, but the girl was just shaking her head, oozing with irritation.

  “Ignore him,” Zuma said to Finley.

  “Ignore me?” her brother said, stalking into the room and straight over to Zuma. He stopped when he was towering over her and peered down at his sister with a bullying look. “You’re going to ignore your only brother? Your elder? How dare you?” he said.

  “Hey, bro,” Zuma said, sounding worn out. “How are you? Still playing the over-testosteroned-wrestler role I see. It’s sooooo cute,” she said and reached up and pinched his firm cheek.

  He stepped back from her reach, a look of repugnance on his face. Then he brought his gaze to Finley. “Hey! I’m Hudson,” he said, extending his hand.

  “Hudson,” Finley mouthed again to Zuma. He then extended his hand but before they shook Zuma reached out quickly and pressed Finley’s arm down.

  “Don’t shake my brother’s hand. He’ll try and crush yours,” she said, giving Hudson a look of disapproval.

  Hudson gave her a conspiratorial smile. “You know all my tricks,” he said, his voice still artificially low.

  “Well, you’re not too clever with switching them up, are you?” Zuma said to him. “That would take brains that I’m certain you don’t have.”

  Dakota, who had grown bored from this exchange, went to the pantry to raid it.

  “You stayed in my sister’s room last night, didn’t you?” Hudson said to Finley, his voice an octave deeper now, making him sound even more ridiculous. “You didn’t try anything with her, did you?”

  “Hudson…” Zuma said, her voice carrying a warning in it.

  “Do I have a black eye?” Finley said to the man, not looking the least bit threatened.

  Zuma’s brother showed no reaction to his question. “You better keep yourself honorable around these girls,” Hudson said, waving his giant hand in the direction of his sisters.

  “Hudson, would you shut your trap and mind your business,” Zuma said.

  “No and no,” he said to his sister.

  She narrowed her dark brown eyes at him before her look switched to one of mischief. “So, when are you moving out?” Zuma asked her brother. “You’re going to be twenty-five this year. Don’t you think you should spread your bulky wings and get out on your own?”

  “I’m staying to watch over our parents in their old age,” Hudson said.

  “They’re in their mid-forties,” Zuma said dryly. “And obviously enabling you.”

  Finley jumped when two hands pressed into his shoulders. Dakota had somehow snuck back around and was now standing behind him.

  “Oh, you’re so tense,” Dakota said, pushing her hands into his shoulders again. “I can totally fix that. I have all sorts of remedies.”

  Zuma grabbed the tail of her sister’s shirt and tugged her back. “Would you keep your hands off him?”

  “Why?” her sister asked, arching an eyebrow at Zuma. “Do you already have dibs on him?”

  Zuma sighed with frustration. Finley couldn’t help but quietly laugh at the ridiculousness of all this.

  Again Dakota’s hands pressed into his shoulders and he didn’t know how to escape her grip. Finley gave Zuma a pleading look.

  “Oh, such strong shoulders,” Dakota said. “My, oh, my.”

  “Not stronger than me,” Hudson said. Then he stepped around to the other side of Finley and swung out the barstool next to him. The guy thumped his massive elbow out on the counter and flexed his hand. “Let’s arm wrestle. I’ll beat you, like I did Jack,” Hudson said and made a grunting sound.

  Zuma slid off her stool and yanked on Finley’s arm. “Come on, I think we’ve had enough of the freak show,” she said. And she didn’t have to pull hard to encourage him to follow her. She turned to Finley when they were in the hallway and the amused smile on his face almost made Zuma laugh. “Welcome to the Zanders family, where everyone is encouraged to be themselves even if that means they’re insane.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Sunshine was furious to find the big top not empty. It was packed actually. It appeared that no one was taking the day off. They all seemed to need to be in the big top too, working, practicing, doing the things Dave supported them in. And stranger than finding the circus members all working in various parts of the big top was that they were silent. It eerily made the pain in Sunshine’s chest burn hotter. The girl could feel each person’s suffering individually and collectively.

  She kicked a chair, not caring that it startled some crew members who were sitting peacefully. None of these people understood that she didn’t just have to process her own pain, but also all of theirs. It weighed on her heart. Sunshine felt every scar that burned into her family’s hearts from this loss.

  The girl picked up the torches she used for her act and stalked over to the stands she also used. Sunshine then pulled the stands to each of their spots, inserting the torches into them when they were in place. The stands were set up on opposite sides of the ring, forming a triangle.

  “You all better clear this area unless you want to be burned,” Sunshine said.

  Knowing Sunshine wasn’t the bluffing type, many of the crew members clambered for the back practice tent. A few performers backed up to the far side of the big top. Only two people remained sitting in the front row staring at her with nonchalant expressions. Oliver and Padmal.

  Sunshine grabbed the teal blue and neon green flag and started her act. First she lifted her hand up and a flame shot from her wrist and landed on the first torch. Most people in the audience of Vagabond Circus thought Sunshine had some sort of fire shooter attached to her arm. That’s why her costume was sleeveless and tight, to show there were zero places to hide such a device. Still skeptical adults were able to make a reasonable explanation for this part of the act. A girl couldn’t shoot and control fire. Most changed their minds by the end though.

  All three torches were now lit. Sunshine then flipped the flag between each of the torches, making them flicker from the wind. This was to show that there was nothing connecting the torches. No wires. Then she dropped the flag in the center of the ring and snapped three times, making each of the torches snuff out by some invisible source. This was followed by three swift claps from the girl. Each flame ticked back on. At this point in the act most were convinced the torches were on remotes, but that wouldn’t explain what happened next.

  Sunshine raised her hand at the first torch, and the flame rose in height. Then she dragged her hand and the flame spread in the direction her hand went, making the flame drag toward the next in a line of fire. She raised her hand and the beam of fire raised. Then it connected with the second torch. The pe
rformer dragged her hand again directing the initial flame until all the torches were connected by a line of fire. This put Sunshine in the middle of a triangle of fire, her brow sweating from the heat around her.

  In truth, she didn’t actually need the torches. They were only to ground the act in something believable. People wouldn’t be able to digest a girl producing fire. Controlling fire, yes, but not producing it.

  Sunshine was just about to move on to the second part of her act when she was distracted by Oliver and Padmal. They still sat on the bleachers, their hands clasping each other’s. Then Padmal pressed her face in close to Oliver’s and kissed him once on the cheek. Sunshine dropped her hands and the triangle of fire disappeared. She threw her finger at the couple. “Separate,” Sunshine said, her voice angry.

  Padmal looked at her and blinked rapidly. “What?” she said.

  “Separate or I will burn you,” Sunshine said, her focus on the young girl.

  Padmal gave an incredulous look to her friend. “Oh, come off it, Sunshine,” she said, waving her cappuccino-colored hand at her.

  Sunshine growled with frustration. “You were warned,” she said and then shot a neat bit of fire at the couple. They broke apart at once, Oliver moving right, Padmal left. The fire hit Oliver’s jeans, lighting the bottom of the frayed edge. He slapped at the fire, putting it out swiftly.

  “Are you mad?” Padmal said to the girl, her fists by her side.

  “No, but you must be,” Sunshine said. “You think because Dave is dead that the rules are too? No dating, remember? Do you have no respect for the man who saved your life?”

  Padmal tied her arms across her chest, her dark brown hair falling down in her face. “Dave did not save me.”

  Sunshine stomped over to the girl, towering over her. “I’ve tolerated your animosity toward Dave knowing that you were confused. He personally asked me to take it easy on you since he was aware of your feelings toward him. But he’s dead now and I don’t have to mind that request anymore. You will show the founder of this circus respect or you will leave it.”