by Mia Strange
The crowd held their collective breath.
Bishop West stood. Pressing his rotund body against the skybox railing, he narrowed his eyes. This is what he had been waiting for. He licked his lips in anticipation.
“Your complete silence, if you please,” Dark said from up above. “Danger is upon this man.”
“Too deep, and I pierce his heart,” Turk raised his voice to a now hushed audience.
“Like he even has one,” Jin whispered.
I elbowed her in the side.
“Too shallow and his flesh rips, tears and he falls to his death.”
The crowd loved this and went crazy chanting death, death, death.
Dropping the lion’s leash and standing on it with his booted foot, Turk started to twirl the hooks slowly picking up speed with every twist of his wrist. Muscles in his arms bulged as the metal hooks spun round and round, catching the light and flashing across the dark theater.
“Too deep,” Dark echoed from above. “And something vital will be hit. Too shallow, the flesh will tear, and this man will fall from great heights. To. His. Death.”
The lights flickered.
A hook flashed.
Turk raised one hook high over his head and struck Traveler, just under the shoulder blade. A stream of blood, crimson on marble, snaked down his back. The crowd gasped. The lion roared. Traveler didn’t so much as breathe. I fell to my knees, hot burning pain striking through my back. I caught myself and now, on all fours, I gasped for breath.
The lights blinked off.
In a heartbeat, the spotlight was back, this time The Bone Man stood behind Traveler. Zombie Phil, his chain leash pulled tautly, clawed toward the blood streaming down Traveler’s back.
Jin gracefully danced by, her tulle skirt flowing, red sequins flashing. She beat an eerie rhythm on a small, circular, deerskin drum. Pilot joined in, beating a much larger drum from The Dark Destiny above. With his brass arm, the strength of his blows shook the rafters. Dagger threw back his massive head and howled, mournful and haunting.
The wolves padded onto the stage and joined Dagger by adding a chorus of howls to echo in the night air.
Jin reached the ladder, just before the lights blinked out once more.
I struggled to get a grip on the pain coursing through my back. I desperately wanted the cam gaslights back on. Somehow being in the dark just made the pain worse.
Boom, the drum above sounded. My eyes blinked. We had lights. Jin was now safe on the deck with Pilot. Thank you, God.
Turk spun and with one hand he did a flip, landing back on the leash, while swinging the second hook down, embedding the steel deep into Traveler’s flesh.
Searing, crippling, pain burned across my back. I couldn’t help it. I cried out.
Dark stared at me from the rafters. Traveler cocked his head toward me. It was his only movement.
I struggled to stand. I had to see. I had too.
More blood spilled from Traveler’s new wound. The Bone Man had to yank Phil back into the shadows. But not before he lost control of his magic. The Bone Man’s costume melted away, his flesh followed. A skeleton stood in his place. The only thing left that was human, was his still-beating heart, pounding away against his ribcage.
Death magic, black and ugly swirled around The Bone Man. Strong and powerful, his magic revealed what we all knew. People would die here tonight. And they would die soon.
The crowd gasped. “Black Magic,” someone yelled.
“It’s just a trick, asshole,” someone else shouted.
The Bishop was now leaning so hard against the railings of his box, they threatened to break. How I wish they would.
The lights went out.
The lights flashed on.
Through a series of pulleys and ropes, Dark had hoisted Traveler high into the air.
The suspension was complete. This was one of the most taboo piercing acts acts done on the rails. And it never ceased to please. Hanging vertically, in a ‘suicide’ pose that resembled a hanging, Traveler lifted his head and gazed out over the audience. His eyes looked like liquid amber, licked by flames. He began to circle. He began to fly.
Streams of blood flew over the crowd. The degenerate audience tried to catch drops on their tongues.
“And now my good friends, how about a round of applause for the amazing Mr. Hale, the man who flies.”
The audience cheered. The Bone Man walked by, back in flesh and bone, stopped and bowed to the audience. “See,” someone yelled. “Told you it was a trick.”
Zombie Phil groaned and shuffled over to the edge of the stage. Instead of terrifying the audience with one last pointed tooth growl, he bent over, picked up a glass bottleneck and chomped it. The crowd laughed and pelted him with popcorn.
The Bone Man continued. He waved at me from stage right. Worry creased his brow when he saw I was on the floor once more. My legs had simply given out. I gave him a feeble okay sign. Soon he would be out the door, on his way to The Madison. To Annabel.
“Skye? Shit. How bad is it?” Dark knelt beside me. Man. He was more Ninja than Traveler. He touched my back, and his fingertips came away bloody. “Damn it,” he said under his breath. “Hale.”
“I can go on.”
“You can’t go on. I thought when he flew, went he was able to perform, that the coating worked. I thought,” his voice caught, “I thought you were safe. I’m so sorry, Skye. I’ll never again underestimate how much pain a vampire can withstand.”
I sighed. I could finish this. I had too. “Help me up?” He did. Touching me again, his fingers skimmed my hot skin. I felt the pain subside until all that remained was a dull ache. “How is it?”
“Better now,” he said. Relief filled his voice. “The wounds are healing right before my eyes. The coating worked, otherwise…
Dark trailed off, and I was damn glad he did.
The crowd started to chant and stomp their feet once again. “More, more, more, more.”
“I’m ready.”
“You can’t-”
“Look. I’ve practiced.” I gave a small jump and with a twist of the handles, the wings flew into motion. I hovered above him and kicked off his hat. Dagger barked and picked it up with his teeth.
He ran his hand through his thin gray hair before putting his hat back on. “Okay. But get to the Madison right away. They only need to see you for a minute. That will be diversion enough.”
“Got it. And Eli, the Troll–”
“Is back. I know. This may be a good thing.”
“A good thing?”
“If The Neptune burns to the ground, we’ll need someone to blame.”
I cringed and flew higher. “Where are you going now? I yelled down.”
He smiled. “To get your hat.”
Traveler Hale and I were thirty feet in the air and dancing. The crowd, getting crazier by the minute, kept chanting away. Something about seeing my breasts. But somehow, all I heard was our breathing.
And the beating of my heartbeat. Only mine.
Who knew scary Traveler Hale could have a calming effect?
Traveler’s arms wrapped around me, and I felt his underlying strength. I somehow knew he could crush the life out of me in seconds. The strength of necromancers was legend. But Traveler played the gentleman, keeping a respectful distance between us. My hands rested on top of his shoulders. His pale skin was silky smooth. I could feel his muscles working, restraining. He wanted me closer, the way a man wants a woman. I was more than relieved he didn’t act on it.
His flesh was so cool, so cold, I wondered why he wasn’t shivering.
I had flown on stage, and too terrified of the out of control crowd below me, to even think about performing, I flew right into Traveler.
Literally.
The poor guy spun on impact, the cables twisting, until he was wound tighter than Jin’s vintage cuckoo clock.
“Sorry,” I said again, as he swung me under his arm once more. “Guess I need more practice.�
��
He laughed. “You can practice with me anytime, Lovely.”
I looked at the protruding hooks on his back. “Does it hurt?”
“No.”
“Not even a little?” I didn’t, I couldn’t, I just couldn’t believe it didn’t hurt.
“No. Not now. I’m tough. Scary guys usually are.”
I felt myself blush with embarrassment. “Guess I deserve that.”
“I’m only sorry, Lovely, it hurt you.”
“What?”
“The hooks. You felt the pain. Our blood, that is, my blood-”
That was all the farther we got. A large group burst on the stage below us. I recognized them immediately. One wore my hat, another twirled my knives. They kicked a row of our skulls into the audience like they were soccer balls. Hot wax landed on bare skin, and some of the sage candles blew out. Others spread flames from one person to another.
“We want our airship ride from pretty boy up there,” an Ignored shouted.
The theater filled with smoke. And screams. The lights went out. Again.
“That’s our cue,” Traveler said. He reached up and adjusted tension on the ropes. We propelled to the stage at an incredible speed. Turk rushed up and unleashed his great cat in the dim light of a few remaining gas sconces. He knelt, sliding the hooks from Traveler’s back with surprising gentleness.
The huge lion charged the group of The Ignored, and like a western roundup, the men panicked and raced across the stage toward the hemp ladder leading to the bridge of The Dark Destiny. They punched and kicked at each other, trying to reach the top. One man, first in line, and already at a great height, fell, breaking his neck on impact.
“One down,” I whispered.
When the last of the men grasped the ladder, Pilot was ready. The airship lifted, a net dropped, circling the men. All went airborne. One man slipped through, just before the net closed. The lion grabbed his leg, 700 pounds of feline pressure clamped down. The man screamed, my hat fell off his head and rolled to the feet of Dr. Dark.
As the shadow of the airship rose and passed out of sight, Dark reached down for my hat. The raven’s feather was still intact. A miracle.
He did not, however, attempt to help the Ignored. Dr. Dark turned his back, leaving him to the lion. A moment later, the man’s screams stopped.
Chaos was everywhere.
The Troll had entered the theater, crushing everyone and everything in its wake. Jacoby Cane, for all his talent, had clearly lost control. The automaton Ushers lie crushed and broken, most smashed beyond recognition. Fire licked what was left of the walls, and snaked across the floors.
The theater smelled of smoke, melting wax, charred bodies, and blood.
In the balconies, The Bishop was on the run. Lumbering across the floors, the man, with his ridiculous purple robes flapping behind him, stumbled through door after door. At the last one, Jacoby Cane was there to meet him.
Eyes narrowed, Dark watched. Traveler was on his feet beside him.
Turk grabbed my arm. “Skye. We go.”
Dark ran over and placed my top hat on my head. His eyes were clear and bright. His transformation had already started. This should not have surprised me, but it did. I should have guessed he would need to be in fighting form for whatever he and Traveler had planned. “Be safe, Skye.” He pressed a hard, fast kiss to my lips. Magic flashed between us, bright and for the first time, visible. Turk looked amazed. Traveler looked unhappy.
Turk tugged at my arm. With a last frantic look over my shoulder at the silhouettes of Eli and Traveler Hale, standing shoulder to shoulder, my stomach clenched.
Please, I prayed. Let me see them both again.
16
Pulling off my heels, Turk and I ran hand and hand, his lion paving the way in front of us. In an already crazed, frightened crowd, the huge cat parted the sea of bodies like a snowplow in winter.
Fire was everywhere. My beautiful wings were singed and the smoke and soot thickened air choked and gagged us. We stumbled out the back door of The Neptune. The Troll thundered behind us. Close.
Too damn close.
The Madison had been pulled outside, hidden across the street in an abandoned parking lot overgrown with weeds. The railcar sat snuggled against a thick line of dying trees. A thin beam of faint light shown across the jagged pavement.
A scarab beam.
We ran full-on toward the light.
The vibration of the approaching Troll grew closer. The lion stopped, twisted around and growled at the danger behind us.
“Forward, boy,” Turk yelled. The lion bolted once again out in front, trampling down a path.
We reached The Madison and I hit the railcar hard, slumping against the cool iron doors. Phil leaned over and sent down a spittle of drool as a welcome home.
Turk yanked a charm from one of his dreadlocks, and the air filled with the pungent smell of sulfur. A blinding flash of magic forked around us, and I could see the reflection of the Troll’s yellow eyes. The monster blinked.
I turned and Turk’s great cat was gone. The lion, now inked on his skin, once again lay resting, head on paws, eye’s closed…sleeping. Turk shook his head. “I won’t lose a cat to this monster tonight. I won’t do it.”
I coughed and used my arm to muffle the smell. “Nor should you,” I choked out.
Turk gasped. “No time to mask the smell.”
I smacked his boot. “Perfectly done. Let’s get out of here.”
Turk gave me a hand up and pounded on the iron doors. The periscope turned, paused and the door slid open just far enough to let us in one at a time. The blue glow of the moonstone still filled the interior.
“Annabel is really something,” The Bone Man said to me as he reached down for Turk.
“She sleeps?” I asked, praying it was so. I couldn’t imagine her fear waking up in such chaos.
“She does. Wow, Skye. Her hair alone. The color-”
“I know.” I felt a smile tugging on my lips. Annabel Lee. Chapter Three. She really was something else. But mostly? With us? She was safe. Whether she knew it or not.
The ground around us shook.
“Shit. We got company,” The Bone Man said. “Big-ass company.”
I shoved Turk forward first. I tossed my top hat in after him.
“Go,” I shouted. He turned and saw my dilemma.
I had wings to unbuckle and remove. Even with the doors open at regular width, they would never fit through. The wings would have to ride above with Phil. There was precious little time to take them off. Still, singed or not, I was not leaving them behind for a stupid Troll to stomp on. My hands shook as I frantically worked the buckles and straps. Suddenly, with a last yank and pull, the wings were free.
Turk was in. He reached out and grabbed the now free harness, and with his amazing strength, tossed them over his head at Phil. The zombie, hit in the face with a wing, immediately started to chomp on the feathers.
“You will not eat my wings,” I yelled. “Damn it, Phil. Control yourself.”
“Sorry. Best I can do,” Turk shouted over the thundering noise of uprooting trees and sliding boulders. A tree crashed to the ground. The earth around me roared with outrage. What the fuck, it screamed it my head. What is this madness?
“Skye, get your ass in here.”
He offered his hand, and I took hold. My hand slipped from Turk’s. I fell backward in the leaves and dirt. Tangled in my costume, I couldn’t get my legs under me. A huge shadow fell across The Madison. The Troll was upon us. “Go, go, go.” I screamed. “Get Annabel out of here.”
Something inside me, that something that always made me face the hard truth of a situation, told me I was not gonna make it. I grabbed the freshwater pearls at my neck and snapped the clasp. “Here. If she wakes up, tell her it’s from the girl in the Underground. The one who helped save her.” I threw the strand and Turk caught them in the air. I could only pray that to a mermaid, pearls would show a sign of good faith. And fri
endship.
“Not leaving you,” The Bone Man shouted.
“Give me your fucking hand,” Turk yelled. He started to jump down.
Boom! The Madison shuddered as the huge fist of the Troll slammed into the roof. My eardrums felt like they wanted to shatter.
The periscope snapped off. The iron roof dented. The monster’s fist missed Phil by inches. The zombie calmly stuffed another handful of feathers in his mouth, like having a green Troll trying to flatten him like one of Eli’s pancakes happened all the friggin’ time.
Turk, thrown back into the railcar, slammed hard against the tub. Water sloshed on him and all over the floor. Annabel’s eyes flickered open, then closed.
“Get going, damn it,” I screamed.
“Not without-” The Bone Man again. Just damn it. He was as stubborn and as stupid as I was. No wonder I loved him so much.
Eli’s words from today played through my mind. There is more at stake here than one, lone, magical girl.
He was right. And that girl, the one that needed to be left behind, was me. Annabel was too important. She would not get eaten by a Troll. If anyone was gonna be a cookie for a Troll, it was me.
“I’ve got her. Now listen to her and go.”
Wait. Who had me?
All I knew was that I was in the air. Whoa. Very fucking high in the air. Without wings. Or a safety net. “Shit,” I squeaked, trying to twist around. The last thing I saw was the look of astonishment on Turk’s face, followed by two thumbs up.
The Madison roared away, spraying leaves and dirt and rocks all over the Troll. The creature paused, and rubbed his eyes.
Panicked, I tried like hell not to look down. I continued to twist and turn in an iron grip.
“Damn it, Skye. Stop. It’s me. Traveler.”
I froze. I was pretty damn sure Traveler Hale was not hooked up to anything at the moment, which meant only one thing.
He really could fly.