In this riveting sequel to New York Times bestselling author Rachel Vincents acclaimed novel Menagerie, Delilah Marlow will discover that there is no crueler cage than the confines of the human mind...
When their coup of Metzgers Menagerie is discovered, Delilah and her fellow cryptids find their newly won freedom brutally stripped away as they are sold into The Savage Spectacle, a private collection of exotic wildlife. Specializing in ruthless cryptid cage matches, safari-style creature hunts and living party favors, the Spectacles owner, Willem Vandekamp, caters to the forbidden fetishes of the wealthy and powerful. At the Spectacle, any wish can be grantedfor the right price.
But Vandekamps closely guarded client list isnt the only secret being kept at the Spectacle. Beneath the beauty and brutality of life in the collection lie much darker truths, and no one is more determined than Delilah to strip the masks from the human monsters and drag all dark things into the light.
Praise for Menagerie
Well-paced, readable and imaginative.
New York Times on Menagerie
A dark tale of exploited and abused others, expertly told by Vincent.
Library Journal, starred review
Vincent summons bold and vivid imagery with her writing.
Kirkus Reviews
As depicted by Vincent, Delilah is magnificent in her defiance of injustice, and the well-wrought background for her world sets the stage for her future adventures in this captivating new fantasy series.
Publishers Weekly
Vincent creates a fantastic world that is destined to pique your curiosity... As Delilah Marlow slowly uncovers a side of herself that she never knew existed, youll sympathize with her...desperate to see her succeed.
RT Book Reviews
The promising opener in a new series...a fast-paced story of vengeance and justice.
The Roanoke Times
Amazing world-building and a captivating cast of characters. My new favorite Rachel Vincent book.
#1 New York Times bestselling author Kelley Armstrong
Also by
New York Times bestselling author
Rachel Vincent and MIRA Books
The Menagerie Series
MENAGERIE
The Shifters
STRAY
ROGUE
PRIDE
PREY
SHIFT
ALPHA
Unbound
BLOOD BOUND
SHADOW BOUND
OATH BOUND
For more titles by Rachel Vincent, visit her website at rachelvincent.com.
Spectacle
Rachel Vincent
www.mirabooks.co.uk
This is for everyone who followed me down the dark and twisted tunnel that is Menagerie.
Welcome back.
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
Praise
Booklist
Title Page
Dedication
Part One: Démasqué
Prologue
First Quote
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Second Quote
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Third Quote
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Fourth Quote
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Part Two: Menagerie
Chapter 20
Fifth Quote
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Sixth Quote
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Seventh Quote
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Eighth Quote
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Ninth Quote
Chapter 33
Tenth Quote
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Acknowledgments
Extract
Copyright
Part One
Démasqué
Twenty-seven years ago
A scream broke through the surface of Tabithas dreams like an oar slicing through calm water, and she sat straight up in bed, still half-submerged in that other world. Heart pounding, she slid one small hand beneath her mattress, grasping for the handle of the knife her mother had hidden there.
Just in case.
Because if there were another reaping, parents could not be trusted. Children would have to protect themselves.
Tabithas fingers found the blade of the knife instead, and the cut was a sharp, immediate pain. The clarity of the stingnot muddled like blunt blows that left bruisesdrew her thoughts into focus and vanquished the fog of sleep. She sucked on the cut without truly noticing the familiar, coppery taste of blood. Then she slid off the bed and lifted her thin mattress, bedding and all, and seized the knife the proper way.
Just like her mother had shown her.
Another scream sliced through the night, startling crickets and cicadas into silence, and Tabitha whirled toward the source of the sound. The open window over her nightstand.
She pushed the sheer curtain aside and bent to stare through the gap beneath the old, cloudy glass and the flaking windowsill.
Candlelight flickered in the barn.
Tabitha straightened her pale green nightgown, covering an old bruise on her leg, then headed for the hall clutching the knife. No one knew what a second reaping would look like, but Tabitha knew where to stab. Her mother had shown her which soft bits of flesh would be most vulnerable to her blade, should he come into her room at night, and Tabitha remembered every lesson.
What she did not remember was that the first lesson had come three years ago, almost a year before the reaping.
In the hall, Tabitha passed the bathroom and peeked into Isabelles room on her way toward the stairs. Isabelles bed was empty. Her sheet was thrown back and her slippers were missing.
Tabitha took the stairs one at a time, flinching with every creak of the wooden treads. Downstairs, her parents bedroom door stood open. Their bed was empty too.
Barefoot, her stomach pitching with fear and dread, Tabitha pushed open the back door and descended three porch steps. The grass felt prickly against her bare feet, but the backyard was peppered with smooth patches of soft dirt. When she was halfway across the yard, another scream froze her in place. Her fist clenched around the knife handle.
But then she exhaled slowly and pushed forward. That wasnt her mothers scream. It was just Isabelles.
Over the past two years, she had heard Isabelle cry a lot from her room down the hall. Shed heard Isabelle pray and beg in the middle of the night. But the screaming was new. Was that why Tabithas mother slept with earplugs? Had she known there would eventually be screaming?
Tabitha pushed open the barn door. The horses looked nervous, shuffling in their stalls and tossing their manes. Her father stood in the center aisle, clutching a thick-bottomed glass. In the light flickering from a candle stuck to the top of the nearest stall with melted wax, she could see that the glass was empty, but for a single melting ice cube.
The front stall was supposed to be empty too.
Tabitha? Her fathers gaze struggled to focus as he stared at her, and she knew that was not his first glass of the night.
At the mention of her daughters name, Tabithas mother popped up from the nearest stall like Jack from his box. Her clear gaze was focused and hard. Go back to bed. Well talk in the morning.
Let her stay, Tabithas father said. Nine is old enough to know how the world works.
Neither of them mentioned the knife their daughter held.
Tabithas mother frowned, then sank onto her knees in the stall again. Her father waved her forward, and when she hesitated two feet away, he slapped one rough hand onto her shoulder and pulled her closer, positioning her in front of the open stall.
Tabitha flinched, but she forgot all about the unwanted hand when her gaze landed on the floor of the stall. There, propped up on both elbows in the strewn hay, lay Isabelle. Her face was crimson and streaked with tears. Her hair was sweaty and matted, odd strands of it clinging to her damp cheeks.
Tabitha, Isabelle panted. Help me.
But there was nothing Tabitha could do but watch.
Most of Isabelles hair was dark, from the dye Tabithas mother made her use, but the roots were a soft green. The very shade of the moss that grew along the edges of the stream running through the back acre of her fathers farm. The acre that used to belong to Isabelles family.
Isabelle had been fourteen when the soldiers had come for her parents after the reaping, when all the cryptids were being rounded up. Everyone knew it was coming. Isabelles parents had begged Tabithas mother to hide their daughter. To save her. But it was Tabithas father whod agreed. He was the one whod thought of the dyethe same shade his wife used to cover her gray. The same shade of Tabithas hair.
Tabitha and Isabelle could be like sisters, hed said. And because hed always been fond of his neighbors daughter, hed agreed not only to hide Isabelle, but to buy his neighbors land after the state foreclosed on it and save it for her. For when she grew up.
Isabelle grew up real pretty. Tabithas father always said that. But shed had to quit school when she got fat. Tabithas mother said people wouldnt understand. Theyd figure out she wasnt human and theyd come for her too. So Tabitha kept the secret about pretty Isabelle, who cleaned the house and cried at night.
Nine years old was old enough to keep a secret, her fatherd said.
But now, on the floor in the barn, Isabelle didnt look so pretty. And suddenly Tabitha understood.
Is she having a baby? Thats what their mare had done when shed lain down in the barn.
It might be a baby. Tabithas mother peered down at Isabelle, blocking Tabithas view. But it might be a monster. Well know in a few minutes. Its time to push.
Tabithas fathers grip tightened on her shoulder. His other hand clutched his empty glass.