We met Francis’ friends near the front gate, gathered around an old blue pickup truck that reminded me of the one Hugo liked to drive. Brishen nodded curtly at me and climbed in behind the wheel.
‘Come on, guys,’ said Phoebe, waving us over. ‘We don’t have all night.’
‘Thanks,’ I said as we reached the truck. ‘You know, for springing me from the coop.’
Phoebe looked pleased. ‘Anytime.’
Zara opened the passenger door. ‘I’m calling shotgun. The wind does a number on my hair.’
‘Scoot over,’ said Claire, piling in beside her.
I glanced at Francis. ‘So, banished to the back, eh?’
He helped Phoebe into the bed of the truck. ‘Well, somebody’s got to keep an eye on the gargoyle, right?’
I chuckled and leapt over the side, landing in the middle of the bed. Francis’ eyes widened appreciatively at my jump. ‘I’ll try and behave.’
Phoebe slid a hair tie from her wrist and piled her curls atop her head. ‘Well, no offense Sebastian, but I totally get dibs on the front on the way home.’
I settled into a comfortable position in the corner as Brishen cranked the truck and sped through the iron gates. The summer evening breeze was cool against my skin, and I closed my eyes, enjoying being outside the walls of the Circe de Romany. Scents filtered through my nostrils – stronger and with more clarity. I inhaled deeply, concentrating on each one, trying to replace Josephine’s ever-lingering signature.
But as we crossed the Sutallee Bridge, memories of my fight with Anya and the other gargoyles awakened. My eyes snapped open, and I stared past the churning water, reliving those horrific moments: the pain tearing through me; the agonizing shock of my transformation. Muscles tensed along my shoulders. My wings quivered against the straps as I remembered flying – the only time I’d done it. I felt the sickening fear when I thought I wouldn’t be able to save Josephine.
‘You all right, Sebastian?’ asked Phoebe.
I clutched the side of the truck and jerked my focus from the bridge. The memories skittered back into the dark of my mind. I nodded. ‘It’s been a while since I’ve had this much freedom. Just taking it all in, I guess.’
Francis leaned forward and rubbed his hands together. ‘Well then, I say that calls for some fast food. We’d better feed that bottomless pit of a stomach of yours. And I’ve been craving a good hamburger for weeks!’
It was crazy how just the mention of food made my mouth water. Images of grilled meat flashed before my eyes, and I licked my lips. ‘If you’re not a fan of Alcie’s cooking, why don’t you eat in town more?’
Francis’ eyebrows shot up. ‘And taint our reputation? No way. An occasional evening out among the gadje is enough.’
I studied him carefully. ‘You don’t care much for the non-Roma, do you?’
‘It’s not that,’ he replied, waving his hand dismissively. ‘We get along fine with outsiders. We just don’t like them in our business.’
‘But you and Josephine went to public school.’
‘It’s a generational thing. Most of the younger Gypsies tend to be a little more lenient with our interactions. Plus, me and my sister hated homeschooling. It was boring.’
I glanced at Phoebe. ‘Why didn’t you attend school when the Circe was here before?’
‘I don’t like getting involved with anything outside the Circe,’ she replied, making a face. ‘It’s much easier that way. But an evening out every now and then isn’t a bad thing, either!’
My lips twitched into a smirk. ‘And how do your parents feel about you hanging around with gadje?’
Phoebe shrugged. ‘About the same as they feel about us hanging out with gargoyles.’
Francis convinced Brishen to make a quick stop at the Burger Shack. I didn’t like being so close to normal civilization, but my teeth were aching for food – like needles stuck in my gums – and my stomach wouldn’t shut up. I huddled in the corner of the truck, my head low and my lumpy back pressed against the metal side. At least the sun had finally set, so I knew my face was lost in the shadows of my hood.
Zara passed us bags of food through the sliding window of the truck, and I set to work devouring my triple order of hamburgers. ‘I like a man with a healthy appetite,’ she said, smiling at me through the opening. I was too hungry to be embarrassed.
As we passed through town, my two worlds came into sharp focus. Like the fence that separated me from the graduation party, my new life separated me from the people and places I’d known before. Last year, I could’ve walked down the streets, eaten in the diner, met Avery at the bookstore or grabbed a coffee with Katie. I swallowed hard. The last bite of hamburger didn’t go down so well.
Sixes was like a foreign country to me now.
I caught Phoebe peering at me over her milkshake. She averted her gaze quickly. I crumpled the food wrappers and brushed my hands against my jeans. When I scooted closer, she looked up in surprise.
‘I wanted to say thanks,’ I said.
She regarded me curiously. ‘I told you, convincing my brother to let you come was no big deal. I think the Marksmen were glad to be rid of you for a while.’
I laughed. ‘I wasn’t talking about that, but you’re right. I’m sure their lives are way easier without me around.’ I pressed my lumpy back against the side of the truck and pulled my knees to my chest. ‘I actually meant thanks for accepting me. I know how most of your troupe feels about me, so it means a lot. Really.’ The downtown shops whizzed by: shops I’d frequented in the past. ‘I’ve missed hanging out with people since all this happened.’
Phoebe’s eyes darkened with understanding, and she shifted her body, looking suddenly awkward. She twirled a curl of hair that had come loose from her bun. ‘Oh, that’s right. I forgot. You weren’t always … I mean, you didn’t used to be like this.’
‘No,’ I replied, breathing through the lump of emotion in my chest until it eased. ‘Granted, my friends used to say I was a little weird, but I definitely didn’t look like I was on my way to a Halloween party.’
‘And this was because of Josephine,’ began Phoebe, but Francis grabbed her elbow with a sharp shake of his head.
‘No,’ I said, my voice harsher than I’d intended. Phoebe shrank back. I cleared my throat before speaking again, softer this time. ‘I mean, in a way, yes. But she didn’t cause it.’ I tugged at the collar of my shirt. What had happened to the breeze? The air was hot, stifling. It was giving me a headache. ‘It wasn’t her fault.’
‘But you guys are, like, connected somehow, aren’t you?’ asked Francis with a skeptical expression on his tanned face.
I blinked hard, several times. Francis and Phoebe seemed to be drifting away, growing more distant, like I was staring through a funnel and they were on the small end. ‘Yeah,’ I replied absently. The hamburgers felt unsettled in my stomach. A trickle of sweat ran down the side of my face, and I brushed it away. ‘I think so, anyway. It’s hard to explain.’
‘But the whole tattoo thing set stuff in motion, right?’
‘Yeah, I guess.’ I pressed the edge of my palm against my temple and winced. It hurt like someone was drilling on the inside of my skull. I scrunched my face and tried to shrug off the pain. ‘I … I don’t know.’
‘Hey man,’ I heard Francis say. ‘You don’t look so good.’
My skin buzzed. Adrenaline pounded – my heart, my veins exploded with it. A rush of instincts tidal waved through me. And suddenly, I knew.
‘Stop the truck,’ I growled.
‘Wha—’
‘Something’s happened to Josephine!’
‘Calm down, Sebastian.’ Francis frowned at me across the bed of the truck. ‘I’m sure Josie’s fine.’
‘No,’ I shot back, my voice gravelly. I dug my claws into the metal with a harsh screech. ‘I have to get to the Circe. Right now.’
‘Someone would’ve called me if something was wrong,’ he replied. ‘I’m her brother.’
Somewhere in my hazy mind, I knew his answer was logical.
But it didn’t matter.
My actions were no longer my own. Red coated my vision. I sprang from the moving truck and hit the pavement, rolling on my side to take the impact, and came up on all fours. What I’d just done was stuntman impressive, but there wasn’t time to dwell on it. I raced across the road, dodging an oncoming car. Its horn blared after me.
Francis yelled my name, but I didn’t look back. I leapt up the curb and away from the traffic of the street.
Josephine!
My instincts screamed her name. My senses wailed like warning sirens. I had to get to her. I bolted through a yard and hurtled the hedge of shrubbery in my path. Scenery blazed by me, but it wasn’t fast enough. My jacket slowed me down. I stripped it off and flung it aside. My wings fought against their straps, demanding freedom.
I hit the woods and ran until the gates of the Fairgrounds loomed above me. Once, I’d needed a tree to help me over the fence. Not anymore. I pushed off the ground with all my strength and surged towards the bars. I scaled the iron, catapulting myself over the top. I landed lightly on the other side.
My blood pumped stronger, crystalizing everything around me. Lights flickered inside trailers. Gypsies milled outside. I felt the icy presence of Marksmen nearby, making their rounds. All seemed ordinary. But there was a foul smell on the air, one that prickled the hair along the back of my neck. A fierce growl rumbled in my chest.
Instincts screeched at me again. My gargoyle radar honed in on Josephine immediately, and I shot through the camp like lightning. I snarled in frustration and fury as I closed the distance between us.
Why had I left the Circe?
Why had I left her?
My senses led me away from the Romany trailer, through a narrow alley of campers. Gypsies lurched out of my way as I thundered by. I didn’t care. In moments, I found myself outside Karl Corsi’s motor home. She was inside. I burst through the door.
And I immediately skidded to a halt.
Josephine wasn’t the only one in the trailer. Nicolas whirled around at my entrance, and Sabina gasped. A muscular man near the door stepped menacingly in my direction. I clung to the doorframe, fighting the pounding inside my skull. I blinked several times, struggling to reconcile what I felt with what I saw.
Josephine sat on a small cot. Karl knelt in front of her, holding an icepack on her knee while Quentin held her hand. I felt suddenly like an intruder in the small room, with all eyes on me, except hers.
‘Josephine,’ I said, gulping down the wild emotions still trying to claw their way up my throat. ‘Are you all right?’
Quentin’s face went instantly dark. ‘She’s fine,’ he replied lowly. ‘And you can go back to whatever you were doing. This isn’t a guardian matter.’
He used my apparent title like he was flinging a curse. I smothered a growl. My body was on fire. I couldn’t make sense of things. ‘She was in danger,’ I said, hearing my own uncertainty under the thickness of my voice. I gripped the doorframe so hard I felt my claws sink into the wood.
‘She was practicing her act for the show,’ said Quentin in a threatening tone. ‘She was never in any danger. I always make sure of that.’
‘It’s just a strain,’ said Karl, finishing his work. ‘She needs to keep off it for the rest of the night and apply some ice for the swelling.’
‘Thank God,’ Sabina breathed, seating herself next to her daughter. ‘You scared me half to death, Josephine.’
‘You weren’t the only one,’ said the muscular man – Josephine’s partner, Andre, I assumed. He shot a disgusted look in my direction.
Sabina stroked Josephine’s hair. ‘The next time you want to attempt a new routine, please inform your partner, at least.’
Josephine had neither spoken to me nor met my gaze since I’d stormed in. Something wasn’t right. My heart thrummed unevenly against my ribs. I shoved my hands against my pounding temples. What was going on? What was happening to me?
Karl patted Josephine’s shoulder. ‘Take something for the pain if you need to, Josie, but you should be on your feet in a day or two.’
Quentin helped her stand. She gripped his shoulder, her hair falling over her face, hiding her expression from me. She winced as her foot touched the floor, and I started forward automatically.
Quentin halted me with a glare. ‘Like I said, Sebastian, she doesn’t require your assistance.’
My stomach clenched. If Josephine was okay – and she certainly seemed to be – then why was I still feeling like this? Just when I was starting to trust my freakish instincts, they turned out to be unreliable. Quentin’s eyes were hard on me, and I backed away, embarrassed by my explosive intrusion. I turned quickly and left without a word.
9. Blinding Darkness
Francis and the others were waiting outside. He caught my shoulder as I passed. ‘What’s going on, Sebastian? Is everything okay?’
I shrugged out of his grasp. ‘Your sister strained her knee. She’s fine. Everything’s fine.’ I pushed past the Gypsies, ignoring their gaping stares. I ground my teeth, breathing hard. The lights from Brishen’s still-running truck blinded me as I passed. Francis jogged to my side.
‘What hap—’
‘I said everything’s fine!’ I snarled, cutting him off. Francis pulled up short, his face going tense. The other Gypsies hovered behind him with wary expressions. I clenched my hands into fists, choking down a bite of bitter emotion. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap like that. I just … I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’
I whirled on my heel and stomped off.
A warm breeze whipped my hair across my eyes. I reached for my hood before remembering I’d discarded my jacket in the woods on my wild run to the Fairgrounds. I shoved my hair back and kept walking, glaring helplessly into the night sky. My chest tightened with guilt and anger.
I’d come to the Circe to help the Romany family, not go traipsing around town. Instead, I’d given in to the selfish, helpless desperation steadily building inside me since I’d arrived. Questions poisoned every thought. What good was I doing here, and what was the point?
What was the point of me?
I couldn’t prevent my charge from a knee injury; what made me think I could protect her from a real threat? I couldn’t even rely on my instincts. I’d been so convinced that there was some terrifying danger in the Romany camp that I’d nearly killed myself getting back to the Fairgrounds.
I clawed at my chest, striving to quench the wild churning within. I didn’t know what to do with the fury raging through me. I was angry that I’d left the Circe. I was angry for trusting my gargoyle warning radar, only to have it steer me wrong. And I was angry for having this stupid pity fest in my head. What kind of guardian was I?
I cleared a narrow alley formed by two rows of campers. The grounds were devoid of people, but lights shone in all the windows of the caravan. Stars peaked through the canvas of heavy trees populating the Fairgrounds. As I ducked under a string of laundry; a putrid stench burned my nostrils.
Not a gargoyle.
I fought through my gag reflex to take another whiff.
Not a grotesque, either. That scent was burned into my brain since the attack on Peter Boswell. But I’d smelled this stench before. I was sure of it now. My pace slowed. I’d smelled it on the way to the graduation party.
I heard flapping in the darkness above me: a weird, sickening sound. My stomach clogged with ice. A shadow passed across my face, and without warning, a large mass landed in front of me, and dust and gravel littered the air. Gigantic leathery wings obscured the sky. I recoiled in horror. My warning radar hadn’t malfunctioned after all.
A hideous, deformed creature lumbered toward me. Muscles rippled beneath skin as gray and cracked as old pavement. Bones protruded like weapons. It walked upright, and its basic features were like a man’s, but the head was lined with deep fissures harboring a face that was more animal than human –
with wicked teeth, spiked horns, and a bulging forehead. Eyes without pupils or irises gleamed solid silver as they fixed on me.
It was the face I’d seen in my bedroom window.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention as our eyes met. As animalistic as the figure appeared, the expression on its face was wickedly intelligent. My head buzzed with static, and a voice seared my brain like acid.
You …
Somewhere in a distant corner of my brain, facts began drawing themselves together. I’d encountered this creature before, but as more than a face outside a rain-splattered window or a nasty scent on the forest trail. I studied the square jaw and the crook of the smirk running over its blackened lips.
Clarity clicked into place.
‘Thaddeus?’
The creature cracked a smile that turned my stomach sour. Thaddeus had been one of the gargoyles under Augustine’s command. I’d fought him and Matthias on the scaffolding of the Big Tent during Josephine’s performance. I could still feel the sting of the diamond knife as it sliced my palm. But the monster advancing slowly towards me wasn’t the Thaddeus I remembered. His appearance – like the other two gargoyles – had once matched what I stared at in the mirror every morning. But not anymore.
He’d changed.
The thing that used to be Thaddeus screeched. I dropped into a crouch, and the hair rose along my scalp. My brain crackled with static.
Miss me …
The voice was harsh, and the words felt forced, as if it took the entire creature’s energy to communicate them to me. To communicate.
I’d heard the same voice last night at the bonfire. That’s why I’d had difficulty pinpointing the scent. It wasn’t the grotesque that had spoken. It was Thaddeus. He’d been there, too; at least, at the beginning of it all. Sweat dripped down my back as I looked into the terrifying face, saw the cunning in the solid eyes and the brutal coldness in the expression.
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