Vagabond Circus Series

by Sarah Noffke

“How did you learn parkour?” she asked, intensely intrigued by the idea of doing flips and tricks in such a dangerous environment.

  Finley shrugged. “I just picked it up.”

  “All right, never mind,” she said, taking her position and preparing to do another run-through of the part they were working on. “Don’t share. It’s not like I care.”

  Finley took his place, ready to start. “Oh, you care.”

  And without saying a word Finley turned on his back toe and spun around, throwing a round house kick at Zuma. He was unsurprised when she spun to the side, missing it. No one had ever been able to stand up in a fight against him. His super speed prevented it. His teleporting made it impossible. Again he threw a punch and Zuma ducked. Then she grabbed his arm and spun it around so it was locked behind his back where she stood. She felt his heart racing in his chest. His bare back pressed up against her. The scars an inch from her face.

  On cue he teleported so he replaced her position, holding her from behind. She dropped to her knees and used the momentum to pull him down and throw him over her head in a somersault. Finley landed on his back and popped up at the same second. Zuma crouched low and when he tried to slide a low kick to take out her legs she flipped backward twice. When she landed, Finley had already teleported to right behind where she stood. He grabbed her hand and spun her around. A beautiful blur of movements. And then the act turned more into a dance as the scene shifted into a story of love. The characters they were playing had fallen for the person they couldn’t defeat. They moved as figure skaters did, like they were gliding, every one of their movements complementing the others.

  It felt natural to Zuma, as if she’d always performed like this, although this was the first time. For Finley, there had never been a more freeing feeling than to move beside Zuma. Finley picked Zuma up by the waist and rapidly twirled her around before tossing her in the air and then racing fast enough to catch her on the other side of the ring where she landed. He let her slide down until her feet touched the ground and then when she turned to end the act he spun her around in an impromptu move. She’d expected it and hadn’t moved away, too curious to see what he was doing. He tucked his leg behind one of hers, encouraging her back, dipping her low. Zuma leaned backwards, her back arching as Finley leaned over her, his arms supporting from behind. They looked like a beautiful statue of a couple finishing the tango. He slipped down further. Whispered close to her. “I just thought we needed a more powerful ending.”

  “I like it,” Zuma said through a rattled breath. She was dipped back low but felt secure in Finley’s arms.

  Finley’s breath collided with her cheek. The sensation prickled her skin and pulled at an unhealthy desire. His eyes tampered with satisfaction and he leaned in closer, spying the sudden movements of Zuma’s chest as she fought for oxygen. His lips almost grazed her ear when he whispered, “You know, I’m close enough to kiss you right now. You want to add that to the act?” He looked amused, and unlike Zuma, completely unflustered.

  Her hands around his neck tightened. Zuma cocked her head to the side and looked at him straight on. “And I’m near enough to punch you in the face. Maybe we should add that instead,” she said.

  Finley stood straight, pulling Zuma to an upright standing position, and instantly yanked his hands away from her. He wore a jokester’s smile. “You actually need some distance to throw a punch and just now you weren’t far enough from me. It sounds like you’re as awful a fighter as you are an acrobat.”

  Intent on not looking rattled, Zuma rolled her eyes as if only irritated by the statement. “I’m a fantastic acrobat and fighter, and not only that but I’m the fortuneteller for the circus. I have more than just the skill to dance and flip around like you. Sounds like you’re jealous that I have more talents than you,” she said.

  “Right, and your telepathy, go ahead and use it on me. Read my fortune, would you?” Finley said.

  Zuma narrowed her brown eyes at him. He knew she couldn’t. That he could effectively shield her. “Titus said it would be to the act’s advantage for you to take down that barrier. Jack and I perform better together because we communicate telepathically,” she said.

  “I can outperform Jack with my eyes closed, mind shielded, and a broken toe. I don’t need the advantage of letting you in my head.”

  Zuma was now the one who trespassed the space between them, putting only two inches from her face to his. “Sounds like you’re afraid to let me in your head. What are you scared of?”

  He patted her on the shoulder with a mock look of sympathy. “Just trying to protect your ego. Wouldn’t want you to find out how badly I think of you.”

  Zuma threw his hand off her and shook her head at him. “Well, if you could read minds then you’d know the same is true for me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Zuma was exhausted after working with Finley. Still, she had to find Jack. She raced to her trailer, intent on taking the world’s fastest shower before she hunted him down. He would know she wanted to see him. Jack always knew these things about Zuma. Just as she knew he was currently punishing himself and would until she explained. And all he had to hear was the truth and then they’d be back to normal. Well, after her confession, not normal, but at least Jack would feel better.

  She grabbed a protein bar as she ran out of her place. Zuma crammed a few bites into her mouth as she raced to Jack’s trailer. Missing lunch had been a mistake. She wondered again how Finley had stayed so strong throughout the practice, never even taking a break to rehydrate.

  With the protein bar clutched in her hand she rapped at Jack’s door, loud this time. The smell of grilled vegetables was already wafting through the air. Bill, the circus chef, would be grilling up crates of organic vegetables and steaming pots of rice for tonight’s meal. Dave provided only the best food for the people of Vagabond Circus. It was all organic and completely vegetarian since that was the optimal diet for Dream Travelers.

  Jack opened his door with a tired expression. His blondish hair was a mess, lying down flat on his head like he’d been sleeping. “Zuma, I don’t really feel like discussing this right now.” Then he looked at her beet red face and her hair still wet. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Just flushed from running over here after the longest and most irritating practice of my life.” She stepped past Jack, giving him little opportunity to keep her out of his trailer. She turned around, tossing the half-eaten protein bar on his dining table. “And yes, we need to talk right now. I tried to find you at lunch.”

  “I left,” Jack said simply.

  “And you stormed out of the tent right after our meeting,” she said.

  “That wasn’t me storming.”

  “Jack…” she said, a warning in her voice.

  “What?” he said, throwing his hands up in surrender. “What do you want me to say right now?” There was a pain in his eyes that she’d seen but never when it had been caused by her.

  “I don’t want you to say anything. I’m the one who needs to talk,” she said, pointing her finger to her chest. “You’ve been punishing yourself all afternoon because you think Finley is going to steal your stardom.”

  “That’s not why,” Jack said and then clenched his mouth shut, wishing he would have thought before speaking.

  “Well, regardless, you’ll always be a star. The people love you.” She paused and watched him visibly soften. Her combat sense made it incredibly easy for her to notice the micro-expressions most people didn’t even know they gave off as they became stressed or let stress slip away. Zuma could read people better than anyone because of this. “So what you’re saying is that you’ve been mostly sulking all day because I didn’t choose you to be my partner,” she stated and watched Jack’s shoulders tense a degree. “If you wouldn’t have run off,” she continued, “then I could have explained and you wouldn’t have wasted a day feeling sorry for yourself.”

  “Zuma, I wasn’t—”

  “Yes you we
re,” she interrupted. “And with every right, but what I’m trying to tell you is that you’re wrong. I didn’t choose to work with Finley over you because I wanted to. Believe me, I can’t stand that jerk. He’s one of the last people I want to work with.”

  “Then why?”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to work with you. It’s because I can’t, Jack.”

  He blinked at Zuma like he misheard her. “What?”

  “Look, I never told you, but Dave gave me the option of being your main partner when we started the acrobat act together. Jaz had already been at the circus awhile and she didn’t have a preference in her role,” Zuma said.

  “Wait, you chose to have the third position in the act? And you made the choice not to be my partner in the other acts?” Jack asked, a crease between his brown eyes.

  “Right,” Zuma said through a strained breath. This wasn’t how she wanted to disclose this information to Jack. She always pictured that it would feel different, romantic. Instead it felt contrived, like it wasn’t real.

  Jack’s eyes bulged slightly as he gave her a look that begged for her to elaborate.

  “I made that choice because I knew I couldn’t spend that kind of time alone with you,” she said, in one long rushed sentence. Jasmine and Jack were required to practice together more often and alone due to their roles in the circus.

  If Zuma was Jack’s partner then they’d be together almost all the time, based on how much they already saw each other.

  As Zuma’s explanation sunk in, Jack’s expression went from confusion to one of relief and then nervousness.

  Zuma nodded at him, realizing he understood. “You and I both know there’s nothing more important than being a part of Vagabond Circus. And I knew that if we had to work that closely together, that there was a chance that…”

  “We’d act on our feelings,” Jack said, completing her words.

  “Right,” she said.

  “But you gave up a chance to have a central role?”

  “It was fine,” Zuma said, with a shrug. “The important thing was that I stayed at Vagabond Circus. Us not being partners was the better option for everyone. Less stress. And you’re safe with Jasmine so it was kind of a no-brainer, because we both know how intimately you get to know your partner.”

  At this Jack’s face darkened. “And you’ve just made the decision to spend that intimate time with Finley.”

  “Jack, did you hear me when I told you I can’t stand the guy? He infuriates me,” she said, her face flushing with anger thinking of how many times he insulted her that afternoon.

  Jack nodded. “Yeah, I guess,” he said, wondering why Zuma couldn’t see that Finley was doing what some boys do to the girl they like on the playground: push them down to get their attention. “So that’s really why you didn’t choose me?” he asked, knowing Zuma wouldn’t mind the ego-filled question.

  “Yes. And that’s another reason Jaz can’t leave. You and I are able to keep things professional and I think that balance is important,” Zuma said.

  “You’re right,” he said, nodding. He watched her watching him, knowing she was studying him as only she could do. He never minded it. “You’re undoubtedly my closest friend here and sometimes I wonder…” Jack trailed off, looking flustered by what he wanted to say, so he didn’t and instead invited Zuma in his head. Due to her telepathic link with him she could feel him pushing the thoughts across the space at her.

  She smiled after her brief intrusion. “You think that we just want to be together because we can’t?” she said with a laugh. “Yeah, I’ve wondered that before too. Forbidden fruit.”

  Jack smiled with relief. It was always so easy with Zuma. He just let her in his mind and she understood everything he didn’t want to say. “It’s so hard to know what we truly feel for each other. And as long as we’re here we aren’t finding out,” he said. And it had never occurred to Jack that he and Zuma could have had a relationship behind Dave’s back. It had occurred to Zuma, but she figured Jack respected Dave too much to consider the idea. Dave treated Jack as a son, giving him the attention and praise his own father never did. Zuma knew Jack needed that. He needed that more than he needed her and she understood this. Everyone at Vagabond Circus was there for a reason and most of them were not financial ones.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Relief swept over Finley when he finally found Fanny sitting between Emily and the other little girl, who was older. He leaned down over Fanny’s shoulder, making eye contact with Sebastian and then Benjamin on the other side of the table. Benjamin watched Finley, his eyes wide with disbelief. Sebastian pretended he hardly noticed the new acrobat. He ducked his head low and dug into his rice.

  “Can I have a private word with you?” he said in a low voice to Fanny.

  The older woman turned over her shoulder and smiled wide at Finley. “I’d hoped I hadn’t seen the last of that handsome face.”

  “I promised you wouldn’t,” he said with a wink. She was about his mother’s age, he guessed. Maybe if his mother had him on the older side. He didn’t know. Had no idea how old his mother was. Had no idea who she was. Finley wasn’t raised in an orphanage, it was more like a factory, and children the products. “Anyway, I apologize for interrupting your meal, but I need to ask you something. Can we talk in private?”

  Fanny wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “Of course we may,” she said, putting the emphasis on the last word to show the contrast in hers and his statement. Fanny taught by example. “You may always have the attention I can afford,” she said before turning to the older boys across the table. “Sebastian, you’re in charge while I’m gone.”

  He nodded his head, his long black hair falling into his face as he did.

  “Sebastian,” Finley said to the boy. “That’s an interesting name.”

  “Is it?” Sebastian said, an edge in his voice.

  “Yes,” Finley said and his eyes lingered on Sebastian’s cold stare.

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you Mr…?”

  “Just Finley,” he said.

  “Don’t you have a last name, mister?” Sebastian asked.

  “I do, but I don’t think such formalities are necessary,” he said. Finley, in fact, had no last name. Not one he knew of. He had actually picked his first name when he was a kid.

  “Formalities?” Sebastian said, an icy grin on his face. “That’s a big word. You’re a kid from the streets, like most of us, right?”

  “Yeah, I’m a runaway,” Finley said, his voice even.

  “Wherever did you pick up such a large vocabulary, mister?” Sebastian asked, looking curious, but also cunning, like he was playing a game with Finley.

  “The world offers many opportunities for learning. And dream travel is a great way to observe,” Finley said.

  “Oh, dream travel…that makes sense,” Sebastian said, his chin low.

  “One day you’ll see what I mean. When you’re older,” Finley said, an emphasis on the last word.

  “Right, one day,” he said, his words slow, deliberate. “Well, nice to meet you, Mr. Finley.” Then Sebastian extended his hand to Finley, a clever grin on his face.

  Finley shook his head. “I’d shake your hand, but I’m totally gross from my practice session.”

  “Next time then,” Sebastian said, pulling his hand away.

  Finley gave a slow nod. “Yeah, next time.” He turned to Fanny, who watched the whole display with a pleasant smile.

  “Shall we?” she said, holding out her arm, directing the way.

  “Yes,” Finley said, and followed her out to the recreational yard which was empty since it was meal time.

  Chapter Thirty

  Zuma pulled Jack to the food truck after their conversation. She hadn’t stopped complaining about her growling stomach until she shoved the first bite of rice dripping with teriyaki sauce into her mouth.

  “Mmmm,” she said, filling her fork again. “That almost makes me feel normal once more.�
��

  “You really practiced hard,” Jack said, watching her.

  “I did,” she said through a full bite.

  “And besides from Finley being a jerk, how did it go?”

  Zuma sighed, stuffed more food into her mouth and shrugged.

  “Well, do you two have an act?” Jack asked.

  “Yeah, but working with him is probably going to kill me,” she said.

  “I hope it doesn’t,” Jack said, giving her that look, the one that meant something.

  Zuma hadn’t noticed the look. She hardly noticed anything that wasn’t on her plate. “I just don’t understand what his problem is. It’s like he goes to great lengths to make me hate him.”

  “What’s going on in his head?” Jack said.

  “Beats me. He’s got his thoughts locked down.”

  Jack shot one eyebrow up at this. Most couldn’t keep a determined Zuma all the way out of their head. “That’s a true surprise. He’s a mystery for sure. And I’m curious what he’s up to now.”

  Zuma brought her eyes up to Jack’s but he was staring at the table two over where Fanny and her kids ate. Finley was speaking to the new kid, Sebastian. Fanny was behind Finley, looking to be waiting.

  “Oh, great, that’s all we need is for him to spread his bad attitude to our kids,” Zuma said. And the sight of Finley turned her stomach suddenly, making the food she’d just swallowed churn with unease. She pushed her plate away. Jack eyed her with concern.