Spectacle (Menagerie #2)(51)

When no one spoke, I turned off the water and stood dripping on the floor, desperately wishing for a towel. Or some clothes. Or a weapon. I stood as still as I could, listening. And finally I heard a single deep exhalation, as if the breather had run out of patience.

“Who’s there?” I demanded, in as strong a voice as I could muster. “This room is already occupied.” As if there were any chance in hell that they’d accidentally put someone else in the cell with me.

“Delilah?”

Gallagher’s voice was such a relief that I burst into tears. I rushed out of the bathroom, so eager to verify what my ears had told me that I forgot for a second that I was naked and dripping wet.

He stood in the middle of the floor, still dressed only in his cap and the tattered pants he’d fought in, now extra tattered from Argo’s claws. Sand clung to his feet, and his arms were covered with welted snake bites. In his left hand, he clutched a bundle of clean clothing.

I froze the minute his gaze landed on me. His eyes widened when he took in my vulnerable state, then his focus snapped back up to my face with the same professionalism he’d always displayed as my handler in the menagerie. Only now there was no professional detachment. He no longer had to pretend he didn’t care about me. That he hadn’t pledged his entire existence to serving at my side and protecting me with his own life.

Gallagher dropped the clean pants he was holding and shook out the shirt, then held it out to me. “Here. Put this on.”

I tugged it over my head without argument. As soon as the huge garment settled around my bare thighs, he pulled me into a hug.

“They wouldn’t let me see you after the party,” he said into the wet hair on the top of my head. “They wouldn’t even tell me if you were still alive, after what you did to that guard.”

“I’m fine,” I assured him. “They said you killed two men.”

“The slaughter would have been much greater, if not for the tranquilizers.”

I took a step back and looked up at him. “I asked you not to make trouble.”

“I swore to rip apart anyone who lays a hostile hand on you—to litter the ground with the corpses of our enemies—and my word is my honor, Delilah.”

“I know.”

“I cannot watch them humiliate and abuse you. You can’t ask me to. You accepted me as your sword and your shield and that’s—”

“For life. I know. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. But we have to come to some kind of compromise. If you do that again, they’ll kill you.”

“I’m not going to break my vow just because it’s become inconvenient.” His scowl was heavy with censure. “That’s not how this works.”

“Your death is more than an inconvenience, Gallagher.” But it wasn’t something he feared. Every redcap hopes to die in battle, so I’d have to put a different spin on the issue. “You can’t protect me from the grave.”

“You’re suggesting I stand by and watch them hurt you?” His body trembled with stifled rage at just the thought.

“No. Nor am I suggesting that you break your vow. I’m just asking you to defer your vengeance until we can use it wisely. To help get us all out of here. Why die for a small victory—one or two unworthy lives—when you can fight for greater honor on a much bigger scale?” I could tell from how dark and eager his focus became that I’d hit the right note.

“During our escape?”

“That’s what I’m hoping. They aren’t prepared for cryptids who understand their technology. If I can get ahold of one of their remotes, or find wherever the doors are programmed, or something like that, I think we’ll have a shot.”

“But none of that will matter if they kill you. I can’t let that happen.”

“I’m not asking you to. If they try to kill me, do what you have to do. But anything short of that, I need you to prevent using your head, rather than your fists. Or add it to the list of deferred grievances.”

His thick, dark brows furrowed.

“Promise me, Gallagher.”

“You know I can’t—”

“Then promise you’ll try.”

“Fine,” he growled. “You have my word that if you are in nonlethal danger, I will try to prevent you from getting hurt using means not fatal to our captors.”

“Thank you.” I glanced around the concrete cell, relieved to have his promise. “Is this your room?”

“If such a place can be called a room. Though I’ve certainly lived under worse conditions.”

What bothered me wasn’t the bare concrete cell, but the collar, which evidently worked just fine on him, in spite of the fae’s tendency to short-circuit electronic gadgets.

“As glad as I am to see you... Why am I here, Gallagher?”

He took a step back and glanced at the floor, but I could hear the answer in what he wasn’t saying.

“I’m a reward, aren’t I? Because you won.” As far as they knew, if they didn’t reward him for his cooperation, he might have less incentive to fight for me.

“Like most humans, they seem incapable of understanding the true nature of our relationship.” Redcaps considered the lifelong bond between a champion and the one he served to be the most sacred of unions, held even above marriages. Suggesting that he and I were sexually involved was an insult to the entire concept of a fear dearg champion.