Stupid. Not mistaken, confused, or wrong. She’d been unmistakably, undeniably stupid. Why hadn’t she listened to her gut sooner when things didn’t seem quite right? Kit clenched her hands into fists so tightly her nails cut little crescents into the fleshy part of her palms. Stupidity such as this was what got people killed.
Carky sighted down the barrel of her gun, straight at her. “Move, pet, or I’ll pop ye both.”
She would. No doubt about it. As a slum girl, Carky had dismembered rats bit by bit, swinging each bloody piece around to frighten the younger orphans until they screamed for mercy. That sort of child didn’t grow into a woman of idle threats.
But neither had Kit grown into a fainting flower, and she’d be hanged if she’d let this woman get the best of her again.
She flung herself sideways to the ground and rolled like a cannonball into Carky’s legs. Carky flew backwards, the gun cracking into the air. Hopefully.
Before Carky could react, Kit scrambled to her feet and tore back to Mr. Coleman, shouting as she ran, “Open the door! Let those monkeys out!”
She hooked Mr. Coleman’s arm and yanked him into motion as the old man nearby did as she’d said…only, releasing so many monkeys at one time might have been a slight miscalculation. The little beasts scattered everywhere, one of them leaping onto her skirts and slowing her down. Mr. Coleman kicked it off, the screech of the thing as loud as the curses streaming out of Carky behind them.
“Thanks,” Kit said as she hauled Mr. Coleman into the big top.
“My pleasure. I hate the hairy devils.” His words huffed out between gasps for air.
Kit glanced wildly about while dodging coils of rope, rigging equipment, and the long tails of tightropes dangling from the ceiling. It seemed that on this side of the tent, everything wanted to trip her, snag her, or brain her with a whap to the head.
And all the while, Carky’s footsteps pounded closer.
“Hear now!” A muscleman in purple hose stepped into their path, thighs bulging, biceps swollen, and his eyes narrowed to slits. “This is no place for a chase. You’re scarin’ my ponies.”
Sure enough, just to his left, three small Arabians tossed their heads in the air. One of them reared.
“Out with you.” The man’s lumber beam of an arm stretched long, indicating the door behind them.
Right where Carky yelled, “Stop those two thieves! They were trying to steal a monkey!”
The man glowered at them. “Light fingers, are you? Not if I can help it.”
He reached.
Kit ducked—jerking Mr. Coleman down with her and practically ripping his arm from the socket. She skittered past the muscleman like a barmy field mouse, dragging Mr. Coleman along for the ride. Thank heavens the man didn’t weigh much.
Racing ahead, she skirted the center ring. Carky or not, there was no way she’d risk the wrath of that bear on a rope. At the next available aisle, she darted sideways, more desperate than ever. Now two sets of pounding feet trailed them, for the duped muscleman had joined Carky.
“Ringo, stop them!” he bellowed.
Ahead, an orange-haired man in a clown costume looked up from the barrel he’d been about to climb into. Hardly a breath later, he reared back then kicked the big tub. Kit zipped sideways.
Too late.
Leastwise for Mr. Coleman.
The rolling barrel took him out at the knees and he face-planted.
Well, then. What couldn’t be beat ought always to be joined.
Kit dropped, once again grabbing hold of the man and pulling him sideways. “This way,” she hissed, and though it raised the hairs at the nape of her neck to do so, she led them into the thin space between the tiger cage and some dog kennels. As long as the tiger stayed on his own side of the cage, this wouldn’t be so bad.
The dogs barked.
The tiger growled.
A spray of sawdust flew up in front of her face.
Kit froze, her very bones jarring from the tiger’s unbelievably loud rumble. She slid her gaze to the left, only to stare deeply into golden eyes offset by streaks of green. A puff of meat-tinged breath landed hot on her cheek. She’d known fear in her time—and plenty of it—but nothing came close to this.
