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Alea iacta est.
Let the die be cast.
Eli
“Tell me all about Germany. Don’t spare any details. I want to know what you saw, what you did, how many sausages you ate. And go!”
Livvie and I are cleaning out the lion’s cage while he’s ‘entertaining the crowds’ at the Colosseum. I.e., eating his fill of Nero’s enemies. It’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever experienced, and I’ve been in the locker room after a grueling track meet. Piles of dried shit coat every surface, mixed with half-masticated chunks of rotting meat and clumps of fur. Livvie holds a large garbage bag and shovel while I chip away at the caked-on filth. We’ve already filled two bags, and we’ve not even halfway done.
Nero is evil.
I’m determined we will free these animals, but in the meantime, I’ll give them the best possible conditions I can down in this basement prison. Before work, I went around every pet store and butchery in Harrington Hills and packed my car full of fresh food. Their grateful faces as they gobble at the food more than make up for the fact my Porsche reeks like raw hamburger.
“Germany was cool.” I keep my eyes on my work, hoping she’ll get the idea I’m not going to talk about it. I don’t want to accidentally say something that will hurt Claudia’s plan. It’s already dangerous enough as it is – I won’t risk Livvie saying something to Nero that will see all of us killed. “Castles and World War II stuff and beer, you know. We couldn’t exactly get up to much with our teachers watching.”
“Mmmhmmm, sure. And did you find what you were looking for?”
“Huh?”
“We need more trash bags.” Livvie grabs my arm and drags me into the laboratory. As soon as she shuts the door and we’re away from the cameras, she folds her arms and peers right through me. “Give me some credit, Hart. Don’t forget I’ve stalked you on the internet. Even I can see you’ve been floundering since your dad went to prison. And you’ve got his appeal coming up and college on the horizon and yet here you are, chipping lion shit for Nero Lucian. You have no idea what to do with your life and it fucking terrifies you.” She grins as she grabs a stack of trash bags. “Am I right or am I right?”
I wipe sweat from my brow. Am I so easy to read? “What would you know about it?”
“Relax, I’m not here to chew you out. I’ll let our lion friend do that when he returns.” She fiddles with the handle of one of the bags. “If you want to know the truth, I’m in the same boat, and the current is dragging me under. It’s not as though there are plenty of open positions in my father’s patriarchal crime family for the daughter of his second wife. But the Lucian name means I can’t exactly get a job in a legitimate profession. I’m compromised by my father’s business, and in the age of social media I can’t escape that association under a fake name. You know all about this. I mean, look who you’re dating – Mackenzie Malloy’s spent years hiding away, trying to escape her father’s legacy, and now she’s walked straight back into it again.”
You don’t know the half of it. “Can we just get this cage clean so I can escape this smell?”
“Sure, sure.” Livvie shoves the door open. We finish chipping dried shit and hosing out the cage in silence, and arrange a pile of straw for the lion’s bed. It’s clean at least, but it’s miserable – no place for the king of the jungle. The only time that lion gets to run around is when he’s chasing prey in the arena.
We drag the bags into the elevator and drop them in the trash behind the club. Livvie pulls out a leather-bound planner, dragging her red-painted nail running down a long list of items. “I’m supposed to help you call some of Nero’s buyers about offloading the snakes, and then we’re supposed to arrange the catering for the opening night party at Vault.” She snaps the planner shut. “Want to play with the tiger cubs?”
My face lights up in a grin. “Hell yes.”
We race back down to the basement. As soon as they see us, the cubs leap and paw at the cage, their eyes shining with excitement. Unlike the vet, Gladstone, who comes with his rough hands and taser, they know we bring fun and treats. I pull out some of Gizmo’s cat toys while Livvie prepares a needle with antibiotics.
“If they’re all born in the same litter, how come one’s white while the others are normal?” I step into the cage and wave a pair of fuzzy balls on a stick, which one of the orange cubs immediately attacks with claws and teeth. The three of them tumble over each other in a fluffy ball of cute. They remind me so much of Gizmo and Queen Boudica playing together.
“The white coat is a recessive gene, so in Nero’s breeding program we might get one white cub for every thirty born, and at least half those white cubs don’t survive. There are none left in the wild, and inbreeding them in captivity like this means health problems.” Livvie picks up the white cub and cradles him in her arms like a baby. He relaxes against her, completely trusting as she injects him on the back of the neck. “This little fella is Casper. He’s immune-compromised. He’s always getting sick, which is why we need to give him the shot. But he’s luckier than his white sister was. She had a spinal deformity and a club foot, which meant we had to euthanize her.”
Livvie rubs Casper’s belly and sings to him in a low voice. His blue eyes close with contentment as he waves his paws in the air. She hands him over to me and I rock him gently. His eyes flicker open and he peers up at me with such curiosity and intelligence it takes my breath away.
“He’s got crossed eyes,” I say.
“All white tigers do, even though sometimes it’s hard to see. The gene that creates the white coat also causes the optic nerve to be wired the opposite way. It’s another reason performers and tiger breeders love white tigers so much – they can’t see properly, so they’re more dependent on their trainers.” Livvie rubs Casper between the ears. “This guy will make Nero a lot of money when he goes to market.”
“He won’t,” I growl. “Because we’re going to save Casper.”
“Ssssh, don’t say that out here—” Livvie’s neck stretches toward the elevator as a cranking noise echoes through the space. “Shit. Someone’s coming and we’re supposed to be working.”
We race into the aisle and Livvie slams the cage door shut, but too late we both realize I still have Casper in my arms. She yanks me into the laboratory, slamming the door shut behind us.
Casper lets out a squeak of protest. Livvie shoves boxes of medical supplies off the freezer and digs out a package of steak, which she tosses to me.
I catch the steak with one hand and tear it open. Casper wriggles out of my grasp and I set the meat down for him, hoping that if he’s eating, he won’t cry out and give us away. Livvie kneels on the floor and strokes Casper’s back, her eyes fixed on the steel door. I lean my back against the door and listen hard. There’s definitely someone out there. Two someones, judging by the footsteps.
“What do you think of my little menagerie?” Nero chuckles, his voice ringing clear over the clamor of the animals.
“I think you’re a madman.” The man with Nero has a booming voice and a laugh that shakes the building. “I never imagined the secrets you kept hidden down here. I thought you said there were three cubs?”
