Grey (The Romany Outcasts Series, Book 1)

by Christi J. Whitney

  It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn’t thought this whole thing through. If Josephine was performing on stage and I was stuck backstage, how was I going to look after her? For someone supposedly meant to guard Gypsies, I was really sucking it up so far. I eyed the curtain, pondering my next move, until a hand on my shoulder made me jump. I twisted around to find a pudgy man with a headset glaring at me.

  ‘You’re late, Andre,’ he said, pointing his flashlight at me. ‘Get out there before you miss your cue.’

  Obviously not everyone knew about Andre’s sickness. The last of the performers were exiting through the curtain. Before I could logic myself out of it, I rushed forward and fell into step behind the last one.

  The stage was dark in preparation for the act. The audience hushed in anticipation as the performers took their places, freezing in elaborate positions. I looked for cover. There was a large speaker, just past the curtain wall. I peeled off from the group and concealed myself behind it.

  I was just in time.

  The lights came up, the music swelled, and the scene began. Josephine and the others – all dressed in elaborate Gypsy attire – were arranged around a brightly colored wagon. It was as though the painting in my brother’s shop had come to life before my eyes. The music changed tempo, and the women began to dance.

  I was mesmerized.

  Skirts whirled and jewelry flashed as the performers glided over the stage like ethereal beings, and Josephine’s swaying body set the blood pounding in my ears. I could have watched her forever. At that moment – unfortunately – ice clogged my veins. The tent ceiling was pitch black, but I could clearly see two figures slithering down the metal supports of the floating platform. My skin crawled as I caught the glint of silver eyes within the shadows.

  They were here.

  22. Faith or Futility

  I crouched low as the gargoyles moved effortlessly along the ceiling. They wove through the shadows, blending with the darkness of the tent. The sensation that warned me of their presence obviously worked both ways. They were too high for me to see their faces, but I could tell by the dip of their heads that they were searching for me. I took a whiff of air, and immediately placed the scent. It belonged to Matthias and Thaddeus: Augustine’s lackeys.

  A Circe troupe member was stationed on the platform, busily unwinding long strips of red fabric. As he released them, they cascaded over the sides like streams of blood. The men on stage pulled the ribbons taut. The women danced towards them and took hold of the fabric as they continued to whirl in their routine. I’d seen an act like this before; I knew exactly what was about to happen.

  My gaze shifted to the ceiling. The two figures landed on the platform, jostling the scaffold. The Circe performer hustled to his feet in surprise. The closest figure seized him by the neck. The man’s body jerked unnaturally, and then he dropped lifeless to the platform floor.

  The Gypsy women hoisted themselves into the air. The men rotated the ribbons, and the women began to twirl. Josephine was in the middle of the lot, her body suspended high above the stage. On the platform, Matthias ripped off his thick hood and crouched at the railing. A dagger glimmered in his hand. His gray face split in a sharp-toothed grin.

  Matthias positioned the blade flat against Josephine’s silk ribbon. Meanwhile, the performers continued, oblivious of the danger above. The lights dimmed, and I took advantage of the change. I leapt onto a swinging rope ladder and scrambled for the platform.

  Josephine was well above the stage, her body nearly upside down as she hung by one leg. Matthias’s clawed fingers tightened around the ribbon. He slashed with his dagger, making the first cut. I flung myself over the rail, only to find Thaddeus in my way. His eyes sparked like metal on flint, his animalistic face malicious.

  ‘So nice to see you again, Sebastian,’ he hissed.

  ‘Stop this. Josephine hasn’t done anything to you.’

  Matthias looked up from the rail. ‘Oh, but she has. She’s kept you from joining us.’

  I held out my hands, speaking over the music. ‘Look, I’ll break the ties with her, okay? I’ll do whatever needs to be done. Just leave her out of this.’

  ‘Oh, it’s too late for that,’ Matthias answered. ‘There’s only one way to end this before you’re sealed. The girl must die.’

  He lowered his dagger to the fabric, and I rushed forward. Thaddeus gripped me by the arm, his claws sinking painfully into my flesh.

  ‘Please,’ I begged, my mind racing for a solution. ‘I won’t go near her again.’

  Thaddeus snarled. ‘You think it’s so easy?’

  ‘You’re no good to us sealed,’ said Matthias in a frigid tone. ‘And Augustine needs you.’

  ‘Yeah, for what?’

  He smirked. ‘To rid the world of them.’

  The dagger flashed, and I lunged, wrenching free of Thaddeus. I hit Matthias hard, knocking us both to the floor of the platform. His fingers clamped over my wrists. Before I knew it, I was hurtling through the air.

  Instinct alone kept me alive. I grabbed the railing as my body flew past. I slammed against the side of the platform. The music swirled to a crescendo. I hung precariously from the rail, feet dangling. Josephine was only a dozen feet below me, her back arched in a graceful pose. Another flash of movement – this one above me – and Matthias jumped into view. I stared at his gargoyle face, twisted in sadistic satisfaction. My fingers slipped against the railing.

  ‘If you’d listened to us, Sebastian,’ he hissed down at me. ‘Things would have been much easier.’

  The dagger reappeared, and it sliced the flesh of my hand, but the pain didn’t register at first. I was too enthralled with the blade. Like Augustine’s knife, it glowed with a crystalline fire, as though coated with hundreds of diamonds. Blood poured down my arm, soaking the cuff of my tunic. I yanked my hand from the rail and hung by one arm.

  The performers continued their act before the captivated crowd. I wondered what they would think when the body of a dead teenager hit the stage floor. Sweat and fear drenched my skin. If I died, who would save Josephine? I was afraid of death, but I was more terrified of losing her.

  Another gray face hovered over the rail. ‘What are you doing?’ snarled Thaddeus, his silver eyes fixed on his companion. ‘Augustine wants him alive.’

  ‘You know the fall won’t kill him.’ Matthias’s gray lips pulled back, revealing rows of sharp, jagged teeth. He smiled wickedly down at me. ‘But it’ll hurt. A lot.’

  In my mind, I saw myself tumbling from the Ferris wheel again. That fall hadn’t killed me. But it had incapacitated me. ‘I thought you needed me,’ I said, trying to stall, though I wasn’t sure of my next move. ‘Is this how you treat all your potential members?’

  ‘I never said I liked you,’ Matthias replied. ‘I’m just following orders.’

  ‘From a Gypsy?’ I shot back. ‘Funny how you’re doing the very thing you said you hated. Maybe I’m not the one who’s the Gypsy pet. Maybe it’s you.’

  Matthias’s face went dark with fury. He flashed his hideous teeth, and gripped my throat. I choked and gagged as my air supply was shut off. I clawed desperately at his hand as my body was suspended over the stage. The edges of my vision swirled black. I wasn’t going to be able to save Josephine. They were going to kill her. And it was my fault. Images of her face consumed what was left of my consciousness.

  ‘You’re not playing very nice,’ said a voice from the other side of the platform.

  I squinted through my oxygen-deprived blur. Esmeralda Lucian was standing there, her hands on the ropes.

  My attacker jerked in astonishment, letting me go. Somehow, I managed to throw an arm over the rail before I plunged to the ground. I flipped myself over the metal beam and dropped to my knees on the platform, sputtering for air.

  Matthias snarled at Ms Lucian. ‘How dare you!’

  ‘This is none of your business!’ growled Thaddeus.

  Ms Lucian made a clucking sound in the back of
her throat. ‘Picking on a defenseless fledgling gargoyle? And one under the care of the Corsi clan, at that. I think that makes it my business.’

  As I stared in shock at my drama teacher, I caught something flash in her hazel eyes; a silvery glimmer. ‘Ms Lucian?’ I rasped, my throat on fire. ‘How did…’

  ‘Go, Sebastian,’ she said firmly. There was a thin smile on her lips, but her voice was tense with urgency. ‘Go to Josephine. I’ll take care of these two.’

  Instantly, the platform was engulfed with mist. It surrounded Ms Lucian, concealing her from view. The gray figures flung themselves into its oily depths. Inhuman shrieks filled the air, barely obscured by the blaring music below. I watched in horrified fascination as the mist poured through the rails of the platform.

  And disappeared.

  I gaped at the empty space. Ms Lucian and the gargoyles were gone. I coughed and rolled over, knowing instantly what I had to do. Attached to the platform, just a few feet from my grasp, was Josephine’s red ribbon, still intact. I ducked under the rail and clutched it in my hands. The audience sat enthralled with the Circe performers entwined within their ribbons. Josephine was the only one without a partner. She wound the ribbon around her waist, readying for another stunt.

  Taking a deep breath, I pushed off the platform. The fabric burned into my open wound as I slid down. Josephine felt the ribbon go taut under my added weight. To her credit, only her eyes betrayed her surprise. I clasped the fabric tightly as I neared. The other performers were setting up for their own stunts, oblivious of the addition to their act.

  ‘Sebastian,’ she whispered frantically while looping her leg around the ribbon and extending her arm. ‘What are you doing?’

  Despite her shock, she didn’t miss a beat. She kept perfect time with the others, curling her body around mine as if I was her partner in the routine.

  ‘Keeping you safe,’ I whispered back.

  Her lips moved close to my ear. ‘And how’s that, exactly?’ She hooked her arm around my neck. ‘By screwing up my entire show?’

  Her warm breath against my skin made it difficult to concentrate. For a moment, I forgot I was hanging in the air in front of hundreds of people. All I could think about was Josephine Romany and the peace settling over my soul. Whatever happened, I was where I was supposed to be. I was with Josephine, and I’d keep her safe.

  Safe.

  I snapped back. I didn’t know how Ms Lucian intended to stop Augustine’s gargoyles, or if she was even capable of doing it. The tone of her voice had been less than reassuring. I had to get Josephine out of here. I wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her, especially not when I was the reason her life was in jeopardy in the first place.

  ‘You’re in danger,’ I said urgently. ‘We need to go.’

  ‘We can’t stop the performance.’

  I stared at her in alarm. ‘What?’

  She tipped her head, striking a pose. Then she pressed her body close to mine. I gripped the ribbon harder. Josephine smiled at me, unfazed by my announcement or my reaction.

  ‘I trust you to keep me safe,’ she said quietly. ‘Now you have to trust me. The routine’s almost over. Just stay with me.’ She touched her cheek to mine. ‘Can you do that?’

  My resolve melted away. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then just follow my lead.’

  And I did. Josephine whispered instructions in my ear as she led the aerial dance. I didn’t know how I managed, but somehow, our bodies entwined within the ribbon as if we’d been rehearsing for weeks. I felt in tune to her every movement, almost anticipating them. The red satin slid over her body. Heat rushed over mine.

  ‘Lower me down,’ she whispered finally.

  The performers descended gracefully around us, like bright spiders on scarlet webs. I loosened my grip on the ribbon, grimacing as the dagger wound protested, but I did as she asked. The stage floor drew gradually closer as Josephine twirled into my chest, and her arm looped once more around my neck.

  ‘You’re not trying to steal Andre’s spot, are you?’ she said as our feet touched the ground.

  She twirled out of my arms, and joined the other women in a bow. Applause erupted in the tent. The men stepped into line beside their partners. The audience clapped louder. Josephine reached out and pulled me next to her. I clutched her hand frantically.

  ‘We have to go,’ I hissed.

  ‘Bow,’ she whispered.

  I did, while hastily searching the tent. The other gargoyles had to be nearby because my stomach was a block of ice. I couldn’t see them, but I caught a glimpse of Katie and the rest of the gang, several rows back. With my hooded costume, I knew they weren’t aware that I was one of the performers they were applauding. As soon as the lights went to black, I pressed my lips against Josephine’s ear.

  ‘Okay, now we really have to go.’

  She nodded into my shoulder. The curtain parted for us, and the performers filed off the stage. Now that the act was over, I could feel Josephine growing nervous. Her hand trembled in mine as we reached the backstage area.

  ‘So what do we do?’ she asked.

  I eased us out of the line of people, moving quickly to the exit. I didn’t want to attract attention. For all I knew, Matthias or Thaddeus could be lurking in the shadows. As soon as we were in the open, I answered.

  ‘We run.’

  I took off, holding Josephine’s hand tightly in my own. My claws touched her skin, and I felt her flinch. But I didn’t let go. We dodged the fences, crates, and rigging, but as soon as we turned the corner around the Big Tent, our progress abruptly halted. The carnival was in full swing. People were crowded into every free space. I snarled in frustration and retreated behind the tent. Josephine came beside me, peering into my hood.

  ‘Where are we going, Sebastian?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I snapped. I was feeling all kinds of weird instincts, some protective, some animal-like. They bombarded me from every direction, and I couldn’t sort them out. It made it difficult to process anything clearly. ‘I just need to get you away from here.’

  I changed direction and pushed through the booths, growing more frustrated by the second. Where could we go? I could take her to Hugo’s, though I doubted it would be any safer than the Circe. I needed a moment to regroup and think. Suddenly Josephine grabbed my tunic, stopping me short.

  ‘Go to the woods, Sebastian.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Quentin’s patrolling the property,’ she answered. ‘He always does during performances. ‘We’ll find him. He can help us.’

  My skin prickled. ‘I don’t trust him.’

  She looked away, and I regretted speaking my mind. But I couldn’t ignore the truth of it. There was something about him I didn’t care for, and it went far beyond the simple fact that he was Josephine’s boyfriend.

  She turned back. ‘Do you have a better idea?’

  I ground my teeth so hard my jaw hurt. I didn’t have a better idea. At least Quentin seemed as intent on protecting Josephine as I was. And I didn’t know if I could stand up to Augustine and his minions alone. As much as I hated to admit it, Quentin was probably my best ally at the moment. If it meant keeping Josephine safe, I could deal with it.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Near the bridge,’ she replied. ‘They have a camp there.’

  ‘Let’s go.’

  This wasn’t going according to the plan I didn’t have.

  We wove through the carnival, picking up speed as we reached the gates. As soon as we were outside the confines of the Fairgrounds, I broke into another run, pulling Josephine along with me. The wind picked up overhead – rushing through the autumn trees – and the temperature dropped, matching the ice in my veins. The night and the woods closed in around us.

  I continued through trees and underbrush, letting my instincts guide me. Josephine’s breaths grew labored, but we couldn’t stop. We reached the gravel road, and I paused just long enough to get my bearings. It was one moment too long. An unearthly hi
ss rose from the wind, and I looked back at Josephine.

  ‘Run!’

  We were being chased, pursued on both sides. I couldn’t see them, but I felt their presence beyond the trees, moving at the same speed. Josephine stumbled. I wrapped my arm around her waist. I wondered if I’d be able to fight them off if they overtook us. I’d die trying, I knew that much.

  I heard the rush of river water. We were almost at the bridge. Suddenly an object whizzed past my face. I jerked upright as a black arrow sunk into a tree, just inches from my head. There was another. Then another. Arrows thudded into trees all around us. I shied and doubled back, pushing Josephine behind me.

  ‘What is he doing?’ cried Josephine. ‘Quen…’

  I clamped a clawed hand over her mouth, shaking my head. Mist was curling from the high branches. Snarls echoed around us. I shoved Josephine into the underbrush as another arrow made a pass at my face. I didn’t know who was attacking who. From the sounds of things, Quentin and his men had found Augustine’s minions, and I’d dragged Josephine right into the middle of the fray.

  ‘We have to take cover,’ I said. ‘I think I know a place where we can hide.’

  She nodded steadily. ‘Okay.’

  It was now or never. Josephine squeezed my hand, and we sprang from the undergrowth. I heard men shouting not far behind, and I was afraid Josephine would stop. But she continued to run – looking breathless and terrified – beside me. The river came into view. Then, fifty yards upstream, the bridge. I changed course and aimed for the old wooden overpass. Then I saw what I searching for: an opening between the supports of the bridge on our side of the river.

  ‘Come on,’ I hissed.

  Behind us, the wind whipped through half-naked trees, scattering dead leaves in its wake. Cold dread snatched at me. My chest burned from the run. Josephine was gasping. Only a few more yards to go. I glanced over my shoulder but didn’t see anyone.

  I careered down the riverbank, Josephine at my heels. The bridge towered over us, and the sound of rushing water roared like cavernous falls. Just under the place where the bridge met the bank was an opening. My feet were soaked up to the ankles as I led Josephine over the rocks, sloshing towards the hole. When she saw where I was heading, she stopped, planting her feet firmly in the mud.