Slowly, her meaning dawned on me. She and her brother had the same charisma and charm, but their relationships were different. Francis had real friends. Josephine had doting acquaintances. So it seemed that – in our own ways – she and I were both alone.
‘You’ll always have my friendship, Josephine,’ I said softly. ‘No matter what.’
She squeezed my hand for a moment and then – almost as if she remembered herself – she let it go. Josephine studied her fingernails. ‘You know all that stuff I said to you before, about how I’ve never told anyone about my fears?’
‘Yes.’
She curled her fingers into her palm. ‘Well, it’s true, Sebastian. You’re the only one who knows about that. I’ve never trusted anyone enough before to let them inside that way.’ She let out a breath, nearly laughing. ‘Crazy, isn’t it?’
My gaze fell on her pendant. ‘Perhaps not.’
She looked up suddenly, and her pained expression was replaced with amusement. ‘Has anyone ever told you that you sometimes talk like—’
‘Like I’m in a novel?’ I finished for her. ‘I’ve been accused of that a time or two.’
‘I’ve noticed it more since you came here. Almost formal.’
I pulled a face. ‘Formal?’
‘Not all the time,’ she said. ‘Just little things, here and there.’
‘Old people talk?’ I replied, quoting Avery.
Josephine laughed – a rich, genuine laugh – and it filled my ears with pleasant humming. ‘And why is that exactly, my good sir?’
‘I’m not really sure, to tell you the truth. Chalk it up to my former life, I suppose.’
My former life. What had I been doing before Hugo’s parents brought me to him? What lay beyond the black void of my memory? Did I even exist before then? Cold chills prickled along my arms.
‘Sebastian?’ Josephine’s voice brought me back.
‘I’m sorry. I was just thinking.’
‘About what?’ she persisted.
‘About my life … or lack thereof.’
The clouds returned to her eyes. ‘So it really is true, then. You don’t remember anything before coming to Sixes, like you told me last year? It’s because of the car accident, right? With your biological parents?’
‘The accident was a lie,’ I said, my jaw tightening. ‘My parents, the foster care, all of it. Everything I thought I knew about my life was made up, planted inside me somehow by Hugo’s parents. It’s like I told you the first night I came here. The sclav and brand didn’t do this to me. Hugo said I’ve always been a gargoyle.’
‘But …’
‘I don’t know,’ I said before she could finish the thought. My wings fluttered in my peripheral vision. ‘I don’t know why I looked normal before I was branded and why I’m this way now. My past is like one big piece of Swiss cheese.’
‘But I thought Karl was helping you figure all that out.’
I shifted my body into a crouch and rested my arms across my thighs. I looked at the arrangement of cushions under Josephine’s leg. ‘Well, things aren’t working out quite like I’d hoped. It seems like everything I need to know is some part of shadowen knowledge that’s been lost. He’s helped me in a lot of ways. I just wish …’ I let my thought trail off. I didn’t want to tell Josephine about my battles with my emotions and instincts, or about my inability to control them. I was repulsive enough as it was. ‘But enough about me,’ I said, looking up at her. ‘What about you? How are you dealing with your fears?’
Josephine’s gaze drifted across the room. The painting of the cathedral on the living room wall had captured her attention. ‘It’s the weirdest thing, really. I used to have nightmares all the time.’
‘Nightmares?’
She nodded. ‘The really bad ones. The kind that feels so real that you wake up thinking you’re still right in the middle of it.’ Josephine’s eyes fixated on the painting. ‘In my dreams, I was always dancing, but it wasn’t at the circus. It was autumn, and I was somewhere else. There was something watching me. I couldn’t see it. I could just hear it snarling at me through the mist.’ Josephine closed her eyes. ‘It would reach for me, and then I would wake up.’
I struggled to take a breath. She’d seen the image, as well – the one I’d been plagued with for months before the Romanys came to Sixes. I stood quickly and backed away. If Josephine was the woman in the vision, then I was … the monster.
‘What is it, Sebastian?’
‘It’s nothing.’ I stared at the gargoyles in the painting. ‘It’s just that I’ve had a similar experience, only it wasn’t a dream. More like a picture in my head.’
‘Really?’ Her fingers wrapped around her necklace. ‘I’ve had the dream all my life, Sebastian,’ she said quietly. ‘But it stopped, right after you came to live here.’
Josephine pushed herself to her feet and limped towards me. I quickly closed the distance and caught her as she stumbled forward. Electricity buzzed between us, and I could tell that Josephine felt the same sensation.
‘This whole thing is just so confusing,’ she said.
‘I know.’
Her brow furrowed. ‘So what about you, Sebastian? Do you still see the picture?’
‘No,’ I replied. ‘It stopped after I met you.’
The connection between us was more than obvious, and her dream only seemed to solidify that fact even more. It was hard enough being assigned as her bodyguard, but feeling linked to Josephine like two crossed wires was torture. For Josephine, I could only imagine the connection felt like interference in her relationship with Quentin.
‘Sebastian?’
A look crossed Josephine’s face – an expression that I’d come to recognize. She wanted to say something more. My heart started beating faster for some unknown reason, and the current kicked up a notch.
‘Yes?’
Suddenly, the buzzing of a cell phone broke the electricity, and Josephine reached over to the end table, picking it up. She glanced at the screen.
‘It’s Quentin,’ she breathed, sounding relieved.
‘I’ll let myself out,’ I replied.
I wanted to make my exit as quickly as possible before my stoical expression cracked. But Josephine was right behind me, the phone still ringing in her hand.
‘Sebastian.’
It took all my strength to glance back at her. The phone went off again. Josephine pursed her lips and then smiled. ‘I’ll see you later.’
‘Until then, my lady,’ I said, bowing slightly.
Josephine’s eyes sparkled appreciatively. ‘Indeed, my good sir.’
14. Certain Perplexity
That evening, after dinner, the Circe held a test run for their carnival rides. Francis dragged me along. One thing I’d learned about the Romany twin: he was difficult to ignore. Josephine was spending the evening at home with Sabina, with Marksmen posted around their trailer. She insisted that I go with her brother, so I was left with no excuse.
As we approached, Phoebe flagged us down excitedly. ‘Are you guys ready for some fun? I’ve been waiting for this all week!’
Francis spun her around in a circle. ‘I swear, Feebs, you act like you’re four years old sometimes.’
‘Oh yeah, look who’s talking!’
‘Hey, guys!’ called Claire, joining us. ‘I so needed this break! Aaron’s running the trapeze like a drill sergeant, and it’s getting ridiculous!’ She tossed her red hair out of her eyes. ‘I mean, we could perform those routines in our sleep.’
Zara sauntered over, her bright lips turned up in a sly smile. ‘Oh, I’m sure you do, Claire.’ The acrobat glared, but Zara only laughed and winked at me. ‘Hey there, gray boy.’
‘Hey back.’
Brishen, who was standing close to Claire, scrutinized me with narrowed eyes. ‘We haven’t seen you in a while.’
His greeting, while not cold, was not exactly welcoming either. Zara tugged at his sleeve, a reprimanding look in her blue eyes.
&n
bsp; ‘Nicolas has kept me pretty busy,’ I replied.
Francis, who had either missed the interaction or chose to ignore it, rubbed his hands together briskly. ‘Well, are we going to do this or what?’
‘You know it,’ replied Zara, maneuvering herself next to me. ‘I vote for the teacups first.’
There was a general groan from the rest of the group.
I raised an eyebrow. ‘Teacups?’
Phoebe laughed and grabbed Francis’ arm. ‘You’ll see.’ She yanked him along with her. ‘Come on!’
The rest of us – all neatly paired off – followed them to the carnival rides, all crammed into the front section of the Fairgrounds and positioned to attract the attention of the town. All the lights were on – flashing in their multicolored patterns – and the motors and engines hummed steadily with life.
‘So how did we swing this job, exactly?’ I asked Francis, staring dubiously at the rickety contraptions.
‘No one else wants to do it.’
‘Yeah, I can see why. No offense, but carnival rides always seem a bit on the sketchy side to me. I mean, can you really trust something that’s constantly being assembled, taken apart, shipped to another town, and assembled again?’
Francis grinned. ‘Chicken.’
The teacup ride Zara had suggested was a metal platform shaped and painted to look like an enormous serving tray. Nine giant teacups, with room for two passengers in each one, were bolted to the floor.
Zara tugged at my arm. Perfect teeth flashed against her red lipstick in the evening light. ‘So, are you ready?’ she asked, and something about the tone of her voice made the back of my neck tingle.
‘I feel as though I should be very afraid,’ I replied.
She laughed, and while it wasn’t the same pleasant sound that Josephine was capable of, it was still nice. I really looked at Zara for the first time that evening. She was dressed like something out of an old movie. Her long skirt and top clung to every curve. Gold jewelry sparkled everywhere, all the way down to her sandaled feet.
I remembered what she said about her role in the carnival: playing the stereotypical Gypsy fortune teller. She laughed again, and I realized I was staring. I averted my gaze, focusing on the ride instead. Francis and Phoebe had already picked out a teacup and were pulling down the safety bar. Brishen was inside another car with Claire.
Which left only the two of us.
‘Well?’ she said, offering me her hand. ‘They’re waiting.’
Her skin was soft, her fingers long and thin. She stepped onto the platform, choosing a teacup on the outside of the circle. She gathered her skirt and slid in, making room for me on the bench. I pushed through the narrow opening and frowned. Even folded tightly against my back, my wings were pretty bulky.
‘Ah, this may not work,’ I said.
Zara glanced over my shoulder, touching my arm in the process. But when her fingers slid along the edge of the framework of one wing, my stomach did an odd flip. The sensation filled me with guilty pleasure, and I shifted my body quickly around to face her.
She tilted her head towards me. ‘What is it?’
‘Nothing,’ I replied quickly. ‘It’s just that, with all the space my wings take up, I don’t think I can sit far enough back in the seat to lower the safety bar.’ A low-pitched warning horn blared three times. Apparently test runs didn’t include adhering to safety rules – like having the bar in place before the ride started. I plopped in the seat. ‘What should we do?’
Zara tucked her arms around my waist, under my wings, and around the upper edge of my belt. ‘Well, it looks like you’re just going to have to keep me safe, gargoyle-boy!’
The huge platform gave a protesting creak, and then it began to move – slowly at first, but then it picked up speed, rotating in a circular pattern. The engine chugged, the metal groaned, and then the teacups began spinning all on their own. I forgot about the Gypsy girl wrapped around my waist as the world rocked and spun out of control.
Now this was a ride!
The wind whipped through my hair, and I laughed, clinging to the side of the teacup. As we whirled, I caught glimpses of the rest of the group, their own teacups wildly out of control. I heard Phoebe squealing with each pass.
When the ride began to slow, I remembered Zara. She held me tightly; her head snuggled against my chest. Once again, I felt a wave of guilty pleasure at the contact. She was a beautiful girl, and for some reason she seemed intent on flirting with me.
‘That wasn’t what I was expecting,’ I said as the teacup stopped spinning.
Zara lifted her head from my chest, her face just under mine. Her brilliant eyes searched my face as a smile spread over her red lips. ‘I hope it was better,’ she said lowly.
I was at a loss for words, and all I could do was blink back at her. Thankfully, Francis appeared around the teacup and pounded loudly on the metal frame.
‘What’s the holdup, guys?’ he said, pointing over his shoulder. ‘We’ve got six more rides to test!’
I jumped out of the teacup and helped Zara off the platform, careful not to brush my claws against her hand. The others took off for the next ride as soon as we hit the ground. Zara’s eyes were on me as we walked towards a brightly lit metal track.
I glanced over, feeling self-conscious. ‘What is it?’
She looped her arm through mine. ‘Oh, I’m just trying to figure you out.’
‘There’s not that much to figure out, really.’
Her arched brows lifted. ‘Are you serious?’ Her fingers tightened around my bicep. ‘You are quite the enigma, Sebastian Grey. And I like a good mystery.’
Subtle was one thing Zara was not. Her blue eyes danced, and I found myself smiling back at her. ‘I take it that you don’t have a lot of gargoyles come through here.’
‘Not any as interesting as you.’
I was taking the bait, but I couldn’t help myself. ‘What do you mean, exactly?’
Zara took my shirt in her hands and pulled me directly in front of her. The rest of the group continued on ahead of us. As I stood there, wondering what Zara was up to, she reached up with one hand. I thought she was going to run her fingers through my hair – something I wouldn’t have entirely minded – but instead, her fingers curled around something just above my temple.
‘These are a nice addition to your look, by the way,’ she said as she gave a little tug.
My head responded immediately to the pull, dipping slightly. I flinched.
Zara tilted her head curiously. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Sometimes I forget,’ I said with some reluctance, ‘that I have them.’
I’d grown used to the stares and wary glances – so much so that I barely noticed anymore – but people rarely commented on my appearance, especially since I’d made the decision not to disguise myself. I was the gray elephant in the room, or in this case, the camp. Even Josephine – especially Josephine – avoided the topic. Sometimes, I almost forgot how I looked.
Almost.
Zara rubbed her finger along the grooved spiral of one horn, and I gulped suddenly. Something about this felt very good … and very wrong. I quickly reached up and took her hand. Zara smiled, almost knowingly, and I cleared my throat, embarrassed.
‘I think horns are very … fierce,’ she replied.
Her hand pressed mine, and I let go, but my movement only caused her smirk to widen. She looked at me through thick lashes, and I stepped back, unsure of exactly what I was feeling towards the beautiful Gypsy girl.
‘I’m flattered, believe me,’ I said. ‘But why are you so interested in me?’
‘I like analysing people who intrigue me, Sebastian,’ she said with a coy laugh. ‘It’s part of my profession around here, you know.’
Zara walked a slow circle around me – her skirt swishing around her ankles – and her gaze swept over me. ‘Let’s see,’ she mused, putting a finger against her lips. ‘Firm body, strong arms. I bet you’re more than a match for the g
uys around here.’ She completed her circle and lifted her gaze to study my face with the same thoughtful expression. ‘Mesmerizing eyes, to be sure, and a face that’s very difficult to read. It’s deeply brooding, in a mysterious, quiet-type sort of way.’ Zara placed her hands on her hips, smiling in satisfaction. ‘And the whole gray thing is definitely … dark.’
The way she said ‘dark’ sent a burst of heat along my spine, and I swallowed hard, trying to keep my head clear of the barrage of sudden thoughts and impulses that flashed through my brain.
‘I think you’ve got the wrong person, Zara. I’m not … that’s not me.’
She walked her fingers shamelessly up my arm. ‘You should look in a mirror sometime, gargoyle-boy.’
As I looked at Zara, I had – for the first time – a twinge of doubt about my feelings for Josephine. What if I really had confused my guardian connection to her with what I thought was my love for her? Hugo said we shouldn’t feel love, only duty. Augustine claimed that gargoyles weren’t even capable of love.
Josephine was with Quentin. She may have felt the same confusion I did, but it was clear how she felt about the Marksman. My own mixed-up emotions had only made things harder, and I’d sworn I wouldn’t let them get in the way of my duty. But what about someone who wasn’t my charge?
Zara’s scent – heavy with exotic spices – lingered between us, and her face moved closer to mine. My nose wrinkled pleasurably, and I couldn’t stop myself from taking another whiff. Her blue eyes searched mine, and the curve of her painted lips was inviting.
Maybe I wasn’t capable of love, but I was capable of feeling something. And even if I could love, Josephine didn’t love me in return. So why was I torturing myself this way? A gorgeous girl was practically in my arms, and she’d done nothing all evening but express interest in me.
What was wrong with returning that interest?
Zara was so close that I could feel her breath on my face. It was warm and sweet. My gaze settled on her lips. My breathing had slowed, and my eyelids were heavy. I leaned down. Everything felt comfortable. Nice. I could do this. I should do this. Her lips brushed against mine, and my eyes drifted shut.
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