Page 39 of The Great and Terrible

Snort. “Rabdogs are never babies, and they are alwaysexcellent trackers. Why do you think trappers breed them? If Nugget wishes to return to you, he will.”

But… “What if he doesn’t choose to come back?” I asked with a sniffle. I’d lost so much already. “Some people don’t, you know.”

Jasher faced me fully and captured my gaze. We stared at each other, as we’d done several times before. An action that might have become a habit…and an addiction.Thenhe did something new. With his thumb on my chin and his index finger notched beneath it, he tilted my head, bringing my face closer to his. His intoxicating scent fogged my head.

Awareness arced between us, electric. Sharper than ever before. Seductive. Almost dangerous.

“He’ll come back,” he vowed, those sunset eyes intense.

I fought to focus. To think of anything but his nearness and his sweetness and his kindness and his beauty and hiseverything. “How can you be so sure?”

“As I’ve learned, leaving you behind isn’t easy.” A soft statement that hit harder than any punch.

Mind. Blown. No way he’d just implied what I thought he’d implied.

But what if he had?

I closed my eyes as I spiraled and sputtered internally for a response. When he dropped his hand, spun on his heel, and entered the building, leaving me on my own, I blinked in confusion and early screamed with frustration. How could he turn his smolder on and off so quickly?

After collecting the wits scattered across my mind, I hurried after him. I would ponder his astonishing admission and robotic abilities later. Probably all night long and for years to come.

Inside, I discovered a larger than expected room filled to the brim with laughing guests. Numbered jail cells lined the walls. There were twenty in total, and a lone male occupied each. They ranged in age, anywhere from eighteen to seventy,and they wore only a loin cloth. Unlike the women, they weren’t enjoying the party.

Jasher, who had waited for my entrance, tugged me into a shadowed corner. None of the guests noticed us. Too busy plucking snacks and drinks from trays carried by teenage girls, I supposed, and walking from cell to cell, examining the prisoners as if they were cattle meant to be auctioned off.

“Hello, hello, hello,” a grinning woman sang. Like, she actually sang, as if she starred in an opera. And she wasn’t done. “Welcome, guests. Welcome. Good evening, good times, and good fortune.”

Cue the crickets. The crowd quieted, all gazes sliding to the thirty-something woman as she climbed upon a small boxy dais in the center of the room. She possessed a thick mane of golden hair. Golden everything, really, from her eyes to her skin to her clothing.

Despite her beautiful voice and high class appearance, no one evinced interest in what she had to say.

Her grin vanished. “Clap,” she commanded.

In a blink, an overabundance of cheers rang out. Oookay.

Goldie flipped her lustrous mane over one shoulder. “Thank you, thank you. Now. For those who need a reminder, I’m Mayor Leona Gainly.” She paused for more applause, which she received, though not quite as enthusiastically as before. “For many of us, planting season proved tough this year. That’s why I decided to launch a special, bonus revenge lottery!”

Finally, real cheers and whistles.

She made a laughing bid for silence. “Here’s how this will go. I’ll draw a prisoner’s number and a citizen’s name. Each lucky lady will win the right to penalize her prisoner however she pleases for two whole days.”

This time, boos sounded. A surprise.

“All right, all right, calm down,” she said, showing her palms. “I know you’re usually given a full week, but this ismerely a bonus round. The same rules apply. Prisoners cannot leave the cages. If you enter one, you do so at your own risk. There will be no sexual exchanges, period. And you can cause as much harm as you’d like, but you cannot kill. If you do murder, you’ll be prohibited from ever entering another lottery.”

Once again, cheers erupted. A few members of the crowd pumped their fists toward the ceiling. Cries rang out. “Drogan is losing an eye tonight!” “My mallet thirsts for a taste of Conner!” “I’ve got two fists of fury and a sock full of rocks!”

“What did these men do?” I whispered to Jasher.

“They are bounty hunters who captured sacrifices and returned them to their titleholders for punishment and death,” he whispered back. “Those sacrifices were people the citizens here loved.”

Ah. The lottery now made sense. “I guess I understand two of the rules. But not the one aboutyou know.” I wiggled my brows to emphasize my meaning. If a winner fell for her prize, and vice versa, their love should triumph over all.

A corner of his mouth might have twitched in amusement. “No, I don’t know.”

My heart skipped a beat as if I were some sort of romance novel heroine. “A happy ending,” I explained, maybe kinda sorta blushing.

“What’s a happy ending?” He almost captured my gaze with his again, but I had the strength of mind to return my attention to the podium. “You’ll have to explain it to me. In great detail.”

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