by Trudi Jaye
Veronica nodded at Lorenzo and then turned toward the practice ring. “I’m going to teach Zeph how to lead a circus.”
***
Missy looked around the room. It was nice enough, a big bedroom really, in a nice house. Veronica had said she’d be staying with some of the other acts, but Missy hadn’t seen anyone else in the large house Lorenzo had led her to. Her bag was on the bed in the room, her toiletries bag in the bathroom. Everything had its place.
Missy stomped over to the bedside table, grabbed the small lamp sitting on top, and yanked it, pulling the cord out of the socket. She threw the lamp as hard as she could across the room. That felt slightly better. So she grabbed the bedding and threw it about the room. She pulled out the drawers and tipped over the table.
By the time she was finished, she was breathing hard but feeling less frustrated. Nothing was in place anymore. A little piece of autonomy had been restored.
A knock sounded on the door, and Missy turned. “Come in.”
A woman poked her head around the edge. Her eyes widened when she saw the destruction in the room. “Uh… It’s dinnertime. Do you want something to eat?” The woman’s long, blond hair was tied back in a ponytail, and despite having no makeup on, she was stunning.
Missy wanted to say no, but her stomach grumbled, reminding her she’d been working hard all afternoon. She needed sustenance if she was going to survive this. “Sure. Thanks. I’m Missy.” She held out her hand to the newcomer, who shyly took it in return.
“I’m Becky.”
Missy followed Becky down the hallway and into a large kitchen and dining area. A delicious smell permeated the area. “Oh, wow. Who does the cooking?” There was a huge tray on the counter with a massive lasagna and a big salad bowl next to it.
Becky blushed. “I do, mostly. No one else likes to do it.”
“Well, I can’t wait to eat.”
There were five other people at the table, and Missy forced herself to smile at all of them as she sat. She might need allies to get out of here, and she didn’t know who they might be yet.
Two smiled back, a man and a woman at the far end, but the other three men looked at her blankly and went back to eating the pasta dish in front of them.
“Don’t mind them. They’re just grumpy that you’re here,” whispered Becky. “It means they’ve been bumped down the schedule. And Veronica doesn’t reward second place as well as she rewards first.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t be here long enough to take first place,” said Missy, the words slipping out before she thought better of it.
The man who had smiled down the end of the table laughed out loud. “That’s what we thought when we arrived. This isn’t the kind of place you just leave.”
“I’m starting to realize that,” Missy muttered.
The sound of running feet made her turn. A pretty young girl ran into the kitchen area, followed by an attractive older woman.
“Kitten, slow down. There’s no need to run to get your dinner.”
Missy blinked. Tilly’s little sister Kitten. And their mother Daphne.
She kept eating her food as Kitten and her mother clattered around getting their dinner onto plates. The others stopped talking, she noticed, their heads down, concentrating on their food and avoiding looking at Daphne.
Kitten climbed onto the bench seat. She looked over at Missy, her serious face not changing expression. “You’re new,” she said.
“I am. My name’s Missy.” Some twisted part of her brain made her add softly, “I know your sister, Tilly.”
It was as if a light switch went on. Kitten’s face lit up. “You know Tilly? How?”
“She lives at the Carnival where I used to live.”
Kitten nodded. “She’s away a lot. But she promised she’ll be home for Christmas.”
“Kitten, darling, we don’t know what Tilly will be doing next year.” Daphne’s voice was a soft, attractive burr.
“She promised, Mama.”
Missy looked up to find Kitten’s mother watching her, a smirk on her face. “Tilly shouldn’t make promises she can’t keep.” She nodded at Missy. “I vaguely remember you, Missy. You were such a skinny little child. I’m surprised you’ve managed to turn yourself into a flyer.”
The words themselves weren’t sinister, but somehow, the way she said them stirred a shiver along Missy’s spine. How had Tilly ever turned out even vaguely normal with this woman for her mother? Missy promised herself she would strike up a friendship with Tilly when she got back to the Carnival.
Then she remembered. She’d renounced her position as Showmaster and disappeared in the middle of the night. That equaled never being able to go back. They’d not wanted her, and she didn’t need them.
She took another bite of the lasagna on her plate, no longer tasting the amazing flavors.
“Hey, everyone.” The new voice was achingly familiar.
Missy looked up and saw Zeph, still smiling like his mouth was trying to cut his face in half. He piled up a big plate of the lasagna and came over to sit at the table.
“Goodness, he’s well and truly under, isn’t he?” said Tilly’s mother.
Missy flicked a surprised glance to Daphne. Did they really talk about it that openly?
“Newbie,” muttered one of the other men. He saw Missy watching him. “They calm down after a while, get a little less idiotic.”
She nodded slowly and glanced at Zeph. “So not everyone is under?”
“There are various stages. Most people in the village are under the influence. Everyone here at the Big House probably less so.” He glanced at Zeph. “For the most part at least.”
“How come?”
“This is where Veronica puts her special cases. People who don’t fit anywhere else. Either one of the acts where it’d be dangerous to have us too far under or”—the man glanced at Kitten—”one of Veronica’s pet projects.”
Missy nodded. She wondered which category she fit into.
***
The bike flipped over, and Zeph’s leg was trapped underneath at a strange angle. The pain was intense, clawing at his leg like it was digging out his muscles and tendons, leaving only torn flesh. Zeph screamed, trying to push away the bike.
“Zeph. It’s okay, Zeph. Wake up.”
Arms came around him. Why weren’t they pulling him away from the wreck? He panicked as he realized they were trying to push him back under. To make it hurt more. He thrashed away, struggling against the pressure.
“Zeph, wake up.” The voice was more urgent this time but familiar.
He shook his head. He wasn’t sleeping—he was burning. The flames were leaping over his body, consuming him, burning away his skin, his body. He pushed at the fire, trying to douse it with his bare hands.
The sharp, painful slap on his face made him halt his thrashing. He took a deep breath. The visions faded and fell away, and he came to in a strange bedroom, Missy’s arms crushed around his body, her chest pressed to his side.
“What’s happening?” he asked. “What are you doing?”
“You were screaming. I came to rescue you.” Her voice was muffled, her body still pressed up against him.
He felt himself reacting to the nearness, to the feeling of skin on skin. “Who said I needed rescuing?” Zeph tried to concentrate, but all he could think of was the way her breasts were pushed hard against his body.
Missy pulled back and looked him in the eyes. “Zeph? Are you really here?”
He blinked. “Of course I’m here. What are you talking about?”
“Oh God. You’re back.” Missy hauled herself back against him.
After a moment’s hesitation, he curled his arms around her small body.
“I thought you’d never come back,” she whispered.
“What are you talking about?” He looked around the room properly. “What am I doing here?”
“I don’t know how much time we have. But listen carefully, Zeph. Veronica Snow has you under
some kind of persuasion magic. She’s been keeping you dumb and happy ever since she got you alone earlier today. The nightmare must have jerked you out from under it.”
Zeph frowned down at her. “What?”
“See if you can remember anything you’ve been doing in the last few hours before bed.”
Zeph thought back through a haze, and a few snatches of memory surfaced. An older woman with white-blond hair. Him standing in the middle of a circus ring, then striding around the edges. “What about my leg?” He instinctively touched his injured leg. It seemed much better.
“Veronica said she’d healed it.” Missy glanced anxiously down at his leg. “Veronica controls everyone. She’s a persuasion talent, and she’s been using curse magic to amp it up. You and your mother have both been influenced by her.”
Zeph frowned. “So how do we get out of here?” He went to stand up and realized Missy was still wrapped in his arm. He leaned back again. Maybe it wasn’t so bad like that.
Missy shook her head. “I don’t know. Veronica knows I’m not under the magic, and she’s threatened to hurt my parents if I don’t do what she says. I have to figure out a way to get us all out of here.”
“You’re not alone, Missy. We can figure this out together.” He ran one hand down her soft hair, trying to ease the agitation vibrating off her. She shook under his touch.
A calm feeling seeped into his body, curling itself into every corner, making him sigh. He smiled down at Missy. Why was she upset? Things were going great. Veronica was such a lovely lady, and she was running a fantastic show. A warm glow filled his entire body.
“I don’t know how to fix this, Zeph,” said Missy, looking up at him with scared eyes.
Zeph smiled down at her. “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay. Veronica won’t let anything happen to us. She’ll protect us all.”
He didn’t understand why she started sobbing into his chest, but he held her close all the same.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Missy woke early. She was cozy and snuggled up to something warm. She opened her eyes and rubbed them sleepily. An arm was lodged around her waist, and the smell of cinnamon and sawdust hit her nostrils. She blinked. She’d somehow managed to sleep in Zeph’s room for the night. Again. Except this time, she’d known she would wake up in his arms, had done it on purpose. He’d comforted her, and she’d taken that comfort, despite knowing he didn’t understand why she was crying. He’d gone back under the magic so quickly she hadn’t really known what to say to him.
Or how to get him to help her.
The morning light was making the small room glow, and Missy lay there for a while, watching the play of light on the walls and through the lacy curtains that hung on the window. She wanted to stay there forever, to never have to deal with the reality of the world outside this room.
“Morning,” whispered Zeph in her ear. He lifted one hand to her breast and rubbed his hand over her nipple. It immediately stood to attention.
Missy squeaked and jumped. She pushed away his hand. If he’d been himself, maybe. But not when he was this weird happy guy who thought the world was perfect and Veronica would save them.
“What’s the matter, Missy?” He grinned lazily at her, oozing his natural charm.
She was pleased he’d never bothered to use it on her before now, because while she could see the appeal—he was an attractive bastard—she preferred the angry, fierce version of Zeph she’d known on the trip here. The guy who was trying to pretend his leg didn’t hurt and that his mother would be fine when they found her. Who was so stubborn he climbed a tree in the middle of the night, despite the agony of his sore leg, because of a dare.
“I’m not going to have sex with you.” She paused, then added, “Not right now, anyway.” She prided herself on being honest.
“Don’t stress so much. Everything will be fine. Veronica said we don’t have to worry about anything.” His smile lost its charm and began to look dopey again.
That was all it took to make Missy stand and move away from him. “Sure. Veronica will take care of everything. I’ll see you after breakfast, Zeph.”
Walking as fast as her legs could carry her, Missy stalked out of the room and back to her own. She firmly pushed down all the fear, anger, and hurt clamoring for attention in her head and concentrated on one thing—how she was going to get them all out of here. Even if most of the people she was trying to save didn’t want to leave.
She’d always prided herself on her independence, and she wasn’t going to stop now. She’d broken down and cried last night, but there would be no repeat performance. There would be a way to make this work, and she wasn’t going to let that old blond cow get the better of her. Any thoughts of just staying and doing the act with Alphonso were gone from her head.
After showering and dressing, Missy felt a little bit better. Things were never as bad as they seemed. She would figure a way out of this if it killed her.
And maybe it would.
There were only two other people in the main dining room. Becky from the previous night and Kitten.
Missy took a bowl and spooned in some of the oats that were gently heating in a large pot on the stove, heaping brown sugar and milk over the top. As she sat at the table, she saw Kitten looking at her massive bowl of oatmeal. “It’s for energy,” she said. “I have a lot of work to do today.”
Kitten nodded, pushing her own porridge around in her bowl. “I have an act to practice as well. Tilly doesn’t know yet, but they’re putting me in the show.”
Missy didn’t know what to think about that. Was it a good thing? “What kind of act?”
“Knife throwing. Veronica says it’s going to be fun.”
Missy’s breath caught in her throat. “Are you throwing the knives?” She watched Kitten carefully, trying to gauge the young girl’s reactions. Did she really think it was going to be fun?
Kitten shook her head. “No. I’m going to be on a spinning wheel. I’m not allowed to flinch, and it’s very hard.” Kitten frowned. “I might puke. Mom says that would be very embarrassing and I must concentrate on not doing that. But sometimes you can’t help that, right?” She tilted her head fractionally to one side as if assessing her ability to hold in her vomit.
Missy’s vision wavered for a moment. They were going to put a little girl in front of the knives? “Um, yeah, you’re right. Sometimes you just have to puke.” Missy paused, thinking furiously. “Maybe you could ask to be in a different show?”
“It was either this one or the fireball show. And I don’t like fire.” Kitten scrunched up her nose, making herself look even younger.
“Maybe you can ask them to teach you how to throw knives. That would be a much better show.” Missy glanced over at Becky to see what she thought of the new act. Becky just had a dreamy look on her face, staring off into the distance. She seemed really out of it today, much more than yesterday. Missy frowned and looked back at Kitten. The young girl didn’t look like she was affected at all by the persuasion magic that had everyone else acting stupid.
Missy wondered why Tilly had never mentioned the power Veronica had over everyone here. Did it mean Tilly was actually loyal to Veronica and doing a really good job of lying to everyone at the Carnival? Or was there some other explanation?
Kitten’s face brightened. “That’s a good idea. Just the kind of thing Veronica likes. I’ll ask her.” She paused with a spoonful of oats at her mouth. “So when did you last see Tilly? Is she okay?”
Missy wondered what to tell Kitten. She didn’t know the whole story herself, just that Tilly had been sent to spy and had supposedly changed her mind. “Not too long ago. She’s at the Jolly Knight Carnival.”
Kitten considered that information. “Is that where you grew up?”
“Yep.”
“Is it as bad as Veronica says?”
Missy flicked her gaze to Kitten in surprise. “It was a great place to grow up. I loved it there.”
“Then why di
d you leave?” Kitten frowned.
It was a reasonable question, and Missy didn’t know how to answer it. “It’s complicated,” she said quietly.
“Everything always is.” She sighed. “Mom says Tilly’s going to come home soon. Maybe in a couple days.”
Missy flicked her gaze back up to the young girl. “A couple days?”
“Yep. Tilly called last night. She’s got some big news and doesn’t need to stay away anymore.”
A flicker of unease went through her. They were planning something, Rilla and the others. But they didn’t know everything. They didn’t know how powerful Veronica was or about her ability to hold so many people under her spell.
They were going to arrive and be sucked into Veronica’s influence the same as Zeph and her mother, and there was nothing she could do to warn them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Missy says I should throw the knives,” said Kitten, looking up at Veronica with her big blue eyes. The child was impossibly attractive. It was rather annoying. “She says it would be a better act.”
Veronica tapped her finger on her desk, where she sat. She would pay Missy back for that little piece of insubordination. “Missy isn’t in charge of The Experiment, Kitten. You know how it works. Everyone takes part. Everyone earns their keep.”
Kitten sighed. “I guess so.” Her large eyes followed Veronica’s every move. “Mama says Tilly is coming home.”
Veronica felt the tick in her eyelid at the mention of Tilly’s name. The information Tilly had given Daphne so far had been useful. They’d started looking into the bank details of the Jolly Knight Carnival, aiming to find a way to attack from a different angle, and it was looking promising.