Another big cheer from the crowd, and they all head to the stairs and up to the stage so they can cheer on FJ’s killing without accidentally catching a stray bullet.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I think as the crowd gathers in thick around me.
“FJ,” I mind call to him below on the now nearly empty ballroom floor. “Let me in. You’ve got to let me in.”
Nothing but that strange merciless silence, which makes it feel like every word I try to give him is bouncing off an invisible wall.
I start down the stairs toward him, but before I’ve even cleared the first step, a pair of hands grabs me from behind. Fingers shackle around both of my arms, pulling me into my captor’s wide chest. “Varra, you cannot interfere.”#p#分页标题#e#
“Olafr, we’ve got to help him!” I cry inside his mind. “Let me go. If I get between them—”
“No, Varra,” Olafr turns me around to face him. “You will stay here and watch. I will protect you while my brother fights.”
I struggle to get free. “I know we’re from different times and this is a really hard concept for you two to grasp, but you can’t fight bullets! FJ will die. Like right now.”
“That will never happen,” Olafr answers with a derisive snort. Then he turns me around in his arms. “You are our she-wolf. He would never give up your claim.”
He clasps me by both arms as he says this, willing me to believe the impossible with his calm eyes. But he doesn’t know my father.
“Olafr, Olafr…tell me this. You’ve still got the inside track on FJ’s mind. What he knows you know or whatever. So did you know about this ritual? Did my dad prepare FJ for this in any way?”
A shadow passes over Olafr’s face as he answers, “No, he did not.”
“Then please understand this is a set up. Dad wants FJ to die. He’s calling it a ritual, but it’s really just plain old having somebody else do his dirty work. So you’ve got to convince FJ that Dad’s out to get him. You’re the only one who can stop this.”
Olafr goes quiet while the crowd shouts around us, his hands clasping my upper arms a bit tighter as his head dips low. I can tell he’s having a conversation with FJ. Yes! I allow myself to hope…
Only to have Olafr say just a few moments later, “He will fight for your claim. Be at ease, Varra.”
Okay, how the hell does he possibly think I can “be at ease” in a moment like this? “Did you tell him?” I ask Olafr. “Everything I said about my father and how this is all a set up?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And what did he say?”
“That you have still not learned to trust your fenrir.” Olafr actually has the nerve to give me a censuring look. “It disappoints him.”
“It’s not about trust!” I shout back into Olafr’s mind, beyond frustrated. “It’s about the mechanics of a fight. These guys have been handling guns all their lives, and I only this morning explained to you the difference between the kind of gun that puts someone to sleep and the kind that makes people dead.”
Olafr nods. “Yes, you did explain, and now do we understand. Be at ease, Varra.”
Okay, talking with FJ’s biggest fanboy is getting me nowhere. Clyde! I have to find Clyde! My twin who actually understands what’s at stake here. But when I move to search for my brother, Olafr’s grip around my arms becomes even tighter.
“You will not interfere in this, Varra. My brother already has much to forgive you. Do not makes your transgressions worse.”
I shake my head at him, nearly hysterical with the need to do something, anything to stop this. “How can you stand by and watch this happen?” I ask him.
“It must be done,” he answers, like we’re talking about taxes. “Trust in your fenrir, Varra.”
“But—”
My protest is completely drowned out by the roar of the crowd, and when I look down, I see FJ and one of the Trouble Fuckers standing across from each other.
The Trouble Fucker has his hand on top of his gun, and my dad is now down on the floor, talking to FJ. Probably explaining that the Speak Now is a classic draw competition—well, classic to us, but most definitely new to FJ, since guns hadn’t even been invented yet during his time.#p#分页标题#e#
Nonetheless, FJ nods, his face completely calm like he totally understands. And my father starts to take off his own holster, acting—and I do mean acting—the part of the magnanimous alpha, willing to hand over his own sawed-off to the newbie.
But then FJ shakes his head…and Zoh. My. God.