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D’Orfeo, and this is my carnival,” he said smoothly, smirking down at her. “I apologize for the way you were brought here, but it really was unavoidable given the circumstances.”
    “I want you to return me to my car right now ,” Clara said, and she pushed herself up to her feet to face him. “And Marcus too. This is ridiculous.”
    D’Orfeo arched an eyebrow at her and shook his head. “I think not.”
    “I think yes ,” she snapped.
    A scowl darkened the tall man’s features. “No. He broke the rules I set before him, and now he will suffer the punishment. And the punishment, I’m afraid, my dear, is you .”
    She stared up at him, not understanding.
    Before she could ask what he planned to do with her, he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the tent, hauling her down the lane towards the animal cages. She realized that it had been a little dressing tent, attached to the gigantic big top.
    “Marcus’s misbehavior has proven to me that he requires more motivation than I had previously expected,” D’Orfeo went on as they passed the chickens and the goats and the reptiles. “So you are going to be traveling with us from now on, Miss Reynaldi. And every time he misbehaves now, you will bear the punishment.”
    Clara’s heart tanked right into her heels, and she felt an icy fear slick through her limbs as she stumbled along beside the Ringmaster. Her heart began to hammer in her chest.
    “You can’t do that,” she gasped. “You can’t just take me prisoner , this is fucking 2015! There are—there are cops and things!”
    D’Orfeo chuckled blackly. “We’re a traveling carnival, darling. We’re designed to avoid cops and things and have been for two hundred years. We’ll be gone in four days and nobody will miss you quickly enough.”
    “My friends know I came here!” She tried to break free of his grip, but it was too strong. “They’ll tell everyone!”
    He wheeled her sharply around and stooped down to meet her eyes. She was struck by the sudden coldness she saw in his face, a hint of cruelty curving his lips.
    “Then I shall have to send some visitors to be sure they don’t ,” he growled at her.
    She shook her head. “No, no—don’t…”
    He started walking again, dragging her with him. “You’ll sign a few notes. We’ll leave them where your friends can find them. And that will be that.”
    A pit of dread opened up in her stomach. There was no way out of this on her own. But surely there had to be a way out. Even if Marcus had been unable to escape this man, surely together they could manage it.
    D’Orfeo hauled her over to one of the empty cages and shoved her up into it, slamming the door shut and locking it at her back. Then she saw, in an adjacent cage, Marcus’s still form lying facedown on the floor. She rushed to the cage bars, reaching through to grasp at his arm.
    “Marcus! Marcus!”
    She shook him and he stirred, as D’Orfeo strolled around to look through the bars at the two of them, hands sliding into the pockets of his slacks.
    “Here we are, then,” the Ringmaster said pleasantly, nodding. “Excellent. Miss Reynaldi, you will be freed from the cage in the morning and put to work. And you, Mr. Zane, will do whatever I say unless you want me to skin her alive.”
    Clara realized that she’d started crying, pulling on Marcus’s arm to get him to come closer to her, but he wouldn’t move. He just lay there as he was, still, though his eyes were open and staring at D’Orfeo emptily. The Ringmaster stood observing them for another moment, before he clucked his tongue against the back of his teeth with a quiet tsk of amusement and then turned, strolling back towards the line of caravan trailers and tents at the edge of the carnival ground.
    Clara sank to her knees against the bars of the cage, one hand still on Marcus’s arm, and let her temple fall to rest against one of the bars with a sigh. Her heart ached, her head ached, and they were