My heart thrummed in my throat. I had to close my eyes and swallow hard to keep the emotions at bay.
Just a few minutes longer.
A piece of me was starting to want this; the cheers, the crowd, and that scared me more than what I was about to do.
“Ladies and Gentlemen!” the emcee boomed. “Please welcome the hottest girl in Sin City...Holly Octane!”
I walked slowly to the beat of She’s Gone by The Black Keys as a dim spotlight trained on me. A fire bloomed like a flower, waiting for me in the middle of the ring. My costume shielded me from the crowd. I couldn’t expose much skin. Yet. Bad things could happen. I had no room for error, just like Katrinka.
But if I screwed up, everyone got hurt.
Tipping my top hat to the audience, I circled the fire, then dropped my cropped black blazer. The slow beat of the song was exaggerated by the bustle skirt attached to my blood red corset as I grinded my hips in time to the music. Tossing the hat to the crowd, then running my hands down the length of my fishnet clad thighs, I concentrated on the crackle of the fire.
I plucked the batons from the fire like any other girl would take a rose from a garden.
The burn was my favorite part.
I maneuvered the batons slowly through my fingers. Flames surrounded me as I twirled them over my head and underneath my raised leg. The song ended, and I threw the sticks high in the air, the fire illuminating the audience. Their faces flashed against my soul, scarring it. Fireworks exploded in my brain, and I ripped open the front of my corset, whipping it around over my head, the batons falling in the dirt at my feet. The corset kicked up a cloud of soot as it skidded away from me.
Now just in glittery star pasties, sparkly booty shorts, and fishnets, I dropped to my knees and crawled toward the fire where one more baton waited for me to pluck it from the flames. The crowd knew what happened next. I rolled back on my heels and rose to my feet. As Paul Stanley wailed the opening of Heaven’s On Fire, I swallowed the flame.
The theater fell dark as the song kicked in to full gear. Fire coursed through my body, flooding my belly and tingling my limbs. I opened my eyes; with the fire inside me, I could see as if someone switched on an overhead light. This was the first time I let myself look at the crowd each night. They gaped at me, lust in the eyes of some, and disgust in the eyes of others.
Good girls didn’t eat fire.
Every night I saw the same faces. Ugly, twisted, taunting faces. Judging me. Calling me a freak. They were right. And I loved it. They’d never forget me.
Good girls didn’t burst into flames.
Fire dripped from every pore, surrounding me like a cocoon. This is where I felt safe. No one could reach me here. I raised my arms over my head and catapulted myself into a forward flip through the air. The crowd erupted in cheers. I jumped on the metal pole that held up the mock tent, swinging my legs in midair as my hands slipped around it. I shimmied up to the top, then slid back down into a full spilt. The flames exaggerated my every move. Coming back to my feet, I put one leg back on the pole, circling it until I landed on the floor in another split.
I rose, my back to the pole, the flames licking the metal. It took three cartwheels to make it to the chemical shower. The lights went down as the song ended so the crowd wouldn’t see my body, exposed. No fabric could survive my act. No human could survive my act. Foam rained down on me, and the only fire that remained was in the audience’s memory.
Silence ushered in the intermission every time.
I didn’t like to talk to anyone right after I performed. Emotions conjured my flames. I saw things I shouldn’t. Things I didn’t want to. The same things over and over. It was a vicious cycle I didn’t know how to stop. It brought me to a place that was raw and unfiltered, and I needed to be alone until I could get my thoughts in order.
Darkness greeted me in my dressing room. I never turned the light on right away. Instead I always leaned against the door and listened to my heart throb against my eardrums.
Let it drain, Holly.
“Bravo.” A male voice startled me in the dark. My eyes flew open. No. Not again.
One person applauded. Was there more than one of them? Heat rose inside of me. Not now, not here. Too dangerous. I squeezed my eyes closed to tamp down the fear. The flames.
When I could move again, I wiped my hand against the wall looking for the light switch. My eyes widened when I found Cash Logan in my dressing room.
He laughed when he saw my expression. He liked scaring people, and he definitely liked scaring me. It was too soon for company, screams and cries swirled around him. I saw his scars, the ones that ran down into his beard; even a glimpse of the story caused me pain. Time had made them faint, a human eye might have missed them.
Moving around the room, Cash ran his finger over the clothes I’d laid on the back of my chair to change into. He left no marks, but now they were dirty. I shuddered. The most powerful magician in the world had paid me a visit, and was now violating my things. He might as well have put his grubby fingers right on my soul.
There had been rumors that Cash would move his show from New Orleans to Las Vegas. No one in our show wanted that. Cash Logan in Vegas would mean the end of Le Cirque Macabre. But my Aunt Lucille had been waiting for this moment.
This was the reason she’d brought us here.
Why didn’t Rainey tell me he was in town? Her booth was right in the lobby. My girlfriend was a Seer, more than a fortune teller, more than a medium. She could see the future like most people watched the evening news. She’d never keep a secret like this from me. Unless…
Shit. Cash Logan was a vampire.
“What do you want from me?” My voice shook, still weak from performing. I had to scream to make it more than a whisper.
He approached me, coming way too close, pawing at a handful of my plush robe. I couldn’t breathe. “How do you do that, Holly?”
“Do what?” It was as good a time as any to play dumb.
His beard rose as his lips spread into a lopsided smile. If I wasn’t terrified, maybe I could appreciate the view. Long, caramel colored hair that looked like it had been kissed by the sun, even though that was impossible. His rugged, chiseled features showed the wear of a man who’d fought for everything he had. He looked down at me, unblinking, his free hand resting on the door above my head. His hazel eyes were like the evening sky, mesmerizing, limitless, and beautiful.
“You know what I’m talking about.” His lips moved against my cheek, the tips of his hair tickling the opening of my robe. “Your fire dance. How do you do that?”
“I’ve always been able to do it.” I looked away from him before he caught me in a lie, but he moved my face back to his, his cool fingers burning my skin worse than any flame ever had.
“No, you haven’t. Something happened to you. It brought the flames to life.”
I couldn’t breathe. He knew. “Stop it,” I whispered. “I’ll ignite again, I know you can’t survive fire.”
“That’s why I need you,” he said. “You know things you shouldn’t. It’s the past that makes you burn.”
How did he know that? I’d only told Rainey. Rainey would never rat me out to some freaking bloodsucker.
“You think I’m going to help you? You’ll put us all out of a job.” I wrestled my face free of his grip and pushed myself off the wall.
Cash grabbed me, fast and hard. Any harder and he’d snap the bones in my forearms. “This is more than just a circus act, Holly. I’m talking about survival for my kind. For you.”
Survival for his kind? Lucille wanted me to help her destroy monsters like Cash. “If you’re going to kill me, do it. I won’t let you use me then suck me dry.”
“You don’t know what you are, do you?” He loosened his grip, surprised, and I rubbed my arms to bring the feeling back to them.
I sighed. He was right. I opened my mouth to speak and closed it more than once. I had no snappy comeback. No need for bravado. “What am I?”
The truth couldn’t be any worse than not knowing.
“My God,” he said almost to himself. “I think you need me more than I need you.”
Keep Reading Fire Dancer!
Sin City Vampire Club Coming June 30, 2017
It was all about the fire. Until it wasn’t.
Holly Octane wants two things-- to once again be The Fire Dancer and to take the stage wearing little more than a headdress. Neither will happen unless she partners with the vampire who destroyed her father--The Mistress of the Las Vegas clan. But as Holly gains power, it throws the balance of good and evil in the city out of whack. If she defeats the dark side, she’ll lose her fire. And no matter what side triumphs, there’s no guarantee she won’t lose her soulmate, Rainey.
Preorder Now!
Other Books By Kristen Strassel
BLOOD COURTESANS
Wanted
COLORADO SHIFTERS
Lion and the Doe
Doe and the Hunter
Cougar and the Lion
Doe and the Pride
SAWTOOTH SHIFTERS
Forever Home
Rescue Me
Protect Me
Conquer Me
Celebrate Me
Shelter Me
Complete Me
THE NIGHT SONGS COLLECTION (Vampire Rock Star Romance)
Because the Night
Night Moves
We Own the Night
Silent Night
CIRQUE MACABRE (Vampire Dark Fantasy—A Night Songs Spinoff Series)
Stardust
The Fire Dancer
Sin City Vampire Club
Queen of the Night Time World
THE SPOTLIGHT SERIES (Rock/Country Star Contemporary Romance)
Secondhand Heart
The Trouble with Bree
Too Many Reasons
THE ESCORT SERIES (Contemporary Romance)
No Strings Attached
Wrapped Around My Finger
Ties That Bind
The Passion Project
NOT EXACTLY A STEPBROTHER ROMANCE (erotic romance)
Dirty Little Secret
Exposed
Stardust: Tales from Cirque Macabre Page 7