Circus of the Damned

by Laurell K. Hamilton

  I swallowed, and it hurt. "The Master of the City is Jean-Claude."

  "I had discounted him. He isn't very powerful."

  "He hides his powers. Trust me, he's a lot more than he seems."

  "Why the change of heart, Ms. Blake?"

  "He gave me the third mark. I want free of him."

  "Ms. Blake, to be bound thrice to a vampire, and then have that vampire die, can be quite a shock to the system. It could kill you."

  "I want free of him, Mr. Oliver."

  "Even if you die?" he said.

  "Even if I die."

  "I would have liked to have met you under different circumstances, Anita Blake. You are a remarkable person."

  "No, I've just seen too much. I won't let him have me."

  "I will not fail you, Ms. Blake. I will see him dead."

  "If I didn't believe that, I wouldn't have told you."

  "I appreciate your confidence."

  "One other thing you should know. The lamia tried to betray you today. She's in league with another master named Alejandro."

  "Really?" His voice sounded amused. "What did he offer her?"

  "Her freedom."

  "Yes, that would tempt Melanie. I keep her on such a short rein."

  "She's been trying to breed. Did you know that?"

  "What do you mean?"

  I told him about the men, especially the last one that had been nearly changed.

  He was quiet for a moment. "I have been most inattentive. I will deal with Melanie and Alejandro."

  "Fine. I'd appreciate a call tomorrow to let me know how things went."

  "To be sure he's dead," Oliver said.

  "Yes," I said.

  "You'll get a call from Karl or myself. But first, where can we find Jean-Claude?"

  "The Circus of the Damned."

  "How appropriate."

  "That's all I can tell you."

  "Thank you, Ms. Blake, and Happy Halloween."

  I had to laugh. "It's going to be a hell of a night."

  He chuckled softly. "Indeed. Good-bye, Ms. Blake." The phone went dead in my hand.

  I stared at the phone. I'd had to do it. Had to. So why did my stomach feel tight? Why did I have the urge to call Jean-Claude and warn him? Was it the marks, or was Richard right? Did I love Jean-Claude in some strange, twisted way? God help me, I hoped not.

  45

  IT WAS FULL DARK on All Hallows Eve. Larry and I had made two appointments. He'd raised one, and I'd raised the other. He had one more to go, and I had three. A nice normal night.

  What Larry was wearing was not normal. Bert had encouraged us to wear something fitting for the holiday. I'd chosen the sweater. Larry had chosen a costume. He was wearing blue denim overalls, a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a straw hat, and work boots. When asked, he'd said, "I'm Huck Finn. Don't I fit the part?"

  With his red hair and freckles, he did fit the part. There was blood on the shirt now, but it was Halloween. There were a lot of people out with fake blood on them. We fitted right in tonight.

  My beeper went off. I checked the number, and it was Dolph. Damn.

  "Who is it?" Larry asked.

  "The police. We've got to find a phone."

  He glanced at the dashboard clock. "We're ahead of schedule. How about the McDonald's just off the highway?"

  "Great." I prayed that it wasn't another murder. I needed a nice normal night. At the back of my head like a bit of remembered song, two sentences kept playing: "Jean-Claude is going to die tonight. You set him up."

  It seemed wrong to kill him from a safe distance. To not look him in the eyes and pull the trigger myself, to not give him a chance to kill me first. Fair play and all that. Fuck fair play; it was him or me. Wasn't it?

  Larry parked in the McDonald's lot. "I'm gonna get a Coke while you call in. You want something?"

  I shook my head.

  "You alright?"

  "Sure. I'm just hoping it's not another murder."

  "Jesus, I hadn't thought of that."

  We got out of the car. Larry went into the dining room. I stayed in the little entrance area with the pay phone.

  Dolph picked up on the third ring. "Sergeant Storr."

  "It's Anita. What's up?"

  "We finally broke the paralegal that was feeding information to the vampires."

  "Great; I thought it might be another murder."

  "Not tonight; the vamp's got more important business."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "He's planning on getting every vampire in the city to slaughter humans for Halloween."

  "He can't. Only the Master of the City could do that, and then only if he was incredibly powerful."

  "That's what I thought. Could be the vampire's crazy."

  I had a thought, an awful thought. "You got a description of the vampire?"

  "Vampires," he said.

  "Read it to me."

  I heard paper rustling, then: "Short, dark, very polite. Saw one other vampire twice with the boss vamp. He was medium height, Indian or Mexican, longish black hair."

  I clutched the phone so tight my hand trembled. "Did the vampire say why he was going to slaughter humans?"

  "Wanted to discredit legalized vampirism. Now isn't that a weird motive for a vampire?"

  "Yeah," I said. "Dolph, this could happen."

  "What are you saying?"

  "If this master vampire could kill the Master of the City and take over before dawn, he might pull it off."

  "What can we do?"

  I hesitated, almost telling him to protect Jean-Claude, but it wasn't a matter for the police. They had to worry about laws and police brutality. There was no way to take something like Oliver alive. Whatever was going to happen tonight had to be permanent.

  "Talk to me, Anita."

  "I've gotta go, Dolph."

  "You know something; tell me."

  I hung up. I also turned off my beeper. I dialed Circus of the Dammed. A pleasant-voiced woman answered, "Circus of the Damned, where all your nightmares come true."

  "I need to speak to Jean-Claude. It's an emergency."

  "He's busy right now. May I take a message?"

  I swallowed hard, tried not to yell. "This is Anita Blake, Jean-Claude's human servant. Tell him to get his ass to the phone now."

  "I . . ."

  "People are going to die if I don't talk to him."

  "Okay, okay." She put me on hold with a butchered version of "High Flying" by Tom Petty.

  Larry came out with his Coke. "What's up?"

  I shook my head. I fought the urge to jump up and down, but that wouldn't get Jean-Claude to the phone any sooner. I stood very still, hugging one arm across my stomach. What had I done? Please don't let it be too late.

  "Ma petite?"

  "Thank God."

  "What has happened?"

  "Just listen. There's a master vampire on his way to the Circus. I gave him your name and your resting place. His name is Mr. Oliver and he's older than anything. He's older than Alejandro. In fact, I think he's Alejandro's master. It's all been a plan to get me to betray the city to him, and I fell for it."

  He was quiet so long that I asked, "Did you hear me?"

  "You really meant to kill me."

  "I told you I would."

  "But now you warn me. Why?"

  "Oliver wants control of the city so he can send all the vampires out to slaughter humans. He wants it back to the old days when vampires were hunted. He said legalized vampirism was spreading too fast. I agree, but I didn't know what he meant to do."

  "So to save your precious humans you will betray Oliver now."

  "It isn't like that. Dammit, Jean-Claude, concentrate on the important thing here. They're on their way. They may be there already. You've got to protect yourself."

  "To keep the humans safe."

  "To keep your vampires safe, too. Do you really want them under Oliver's control?"

  "No. I will take steps, ma petite
. We will at least give him a fight." He hung up.

  Larry was staring at me with wide eyes. "What the hell is happening, Anita?"

  "Not now, Larry." I fished Edward's card out of my bag. I didn't have another quarter. "Do you have a quarter?"

  "Sure." He handed it to me without any more questions. Good man.

  I dialed the number. "Please, be there. Please, be there."

  He answered on the seventh ring.

  "Edward, it's Anita."

  "What's happened?"

  "How would you like to take on two master vampires older than Nikolaos?"

  I heard him swallow. "I always have so much fun when you're around. Where should we meet?"

  "The Circus of the Damned. You got an extra shotgun?"

  "Not with me."

  "Shit. Meet me out front ASAP. The shit's going to really hit the fan tonight, Edward."

  "Sounds like a great way to spend Halloween."

  "See you there."

  "Bye, and thanks for inviting me." He meant it. Edward had started out as a normal assassin, but humans had been too easy, so he went for vamps and shapeshifters. He hadn't met anything he couldn't kill, and what was life without a little challenge?

  I looked at Larry. "I need to borrow your car."

  "You're not going anywhere without me. I've heard just your side of the conversations, and I'm not getting left out."

  I started to argue, but there wasn't time. "Okay, let's do it."

  He grinned. He was pleased. He didn't know what was going to happen tonight, what we were up against. I did. And I wasn't happy at all.

  46

  I STOOD JUST INSIDE the door of the Circus staring at the wave of costumes and glittering humanity. I'd never seen the place so crowded. Edward stood beside me in a long black cloak with a death's-head mask. Death dressed up as death; funny, huh? He also had a flamethrower strapped to his back, an Uzi pistol, and heaven knew how many other weapons secreted about his person. Larry looked pale but determined. He had my derringer in his pocket. He knew nothing about guns. The derringer was an emergency measure only, but he wouldn't stay in the car. Next week, if we were still alive, I'd take him out to the shooting range.

  A woman in a bird costume passed us in a scent of feathers and perfume. I had to look twice to make sure that it was just a costume. Tonight was the night when all shapeshifters could be out and people would just say, "Neat costume."

  It was Halloween night at the Circus of the Damned. Anything was possible.

  A slender black woman stepped up to us wearing nothing but a bikini and an elaborate mask. She had to step close to me to be heard over the murmur of the crowd. "Jean-Claude sent me to bring you."

  "Who are you?"

  "Rashida."

  I shook my head. "Rashida had her arm torn off two days ago." I stared at the perfect flesh of her arm. "You can't be her."

  She raised her mask so I could see her face, then smiled. "We heal fast."

  I had known lycanthropes healed fast, but not that fast, not that much damage. Live and learn.

  We followed her swaying hips into the crowd. I grabbed hold of Larry's hand with my left hand. "Stay right with me tonight."

  He nodded. I threaded through the crowd holding his hand like a child or a lover. I couldn't stand the thought of him getting hurt. No, that wasn't true. I couldn't stand the thought of him getting killed. Death was the big boogeyman tonight.

  Edward followed at our heels. Silent as his namesake, trusting that he'd get to kill something soon.

  Rashida led us towards the big, striped circus tent. Back to Jean-Claude's office, I supposed. A man in a straw hat and striped coat said, "Sorry, the show's sold out."

  "It's me, Perry. These are the ones the Master's been waiting for." She hiked her thumb in our direction.

  The man drew aside the tent flap and motioned us through. There was a line of sweat on his upper lip. It was warm, but I had the feeling it wasn't that kind of sweat. What was happening inside the tent? It couldn't be too bad if they were letting the crowd in to watch. Could it?

  The lights were bright and hot. I started to sweat under the sweatshirt, but if I took it off, people would stare at my gun. I hated that.

  Circular curtains had been rigged to the ceiling, creating two curtained-off areas in the large circus ring. Spotlights surrounded the two hidden areas. The curtains were like prisms. With every step we took, the colors changed and flowed over the cloth. I wasn't sure if it was the cloth or some trick of the lights. Whatever, it was a nifty effect.

  Rashida stopped just short of the rail that kept the crowd back. "Jean-Claude wanted everybody to be in costume, but we're out of time." She pulled at my sweater. "Lose the jacket and it'll have to do."

  I pulled my sweater out of her hand. "What are you talking about, costumes?"

  "You're holding up the show. Drop the jacket and come on." She did a long, lazy leap over the railing and strode barefoot and beautiful across the white floor. She looked back at us, motioning for us to follow.

  I stayed where I was. I wasn't going anywhere until somebody explained things. Larry and Edward waited with me. The audience near us was staring intently, waiting for us to do something interesting.

  We stood there.

  Rashida disappeared into one of the curtained circles. "Anita."

  I turned, but Larry was staring at the ring. "Did you say something?"

  He shook his head.

  "Anita?"

  I glanced at Edward, but it hadn't been his voice. I whispered, "Jean-Claude?"

  "Yes, ma petite, it is I."

  "Where are you?"

  "Behind the curtain where Rashida went."

  I shook my head. His voice had resonance, a slight echo, but otherwise it was as normal as his voice ever got. I could probably talk to him without moving my lips, but if so, I didn't want to know. I whispered, "What's going on?"

  "Mr. Oliver and I have a gentleman's agreement."

  "I don't understand."

  "Who are you talking to?" Edward asked.

  I shook my head. "I'll explain later."

  "Come into my circle, Anita, and I will explain everything to you at the same time I explain it to our audience."

  "What have you done?"

  "I have done the best I could to spare lives, ma petite, but some will die tonight. But it will be in the circle with only the soldiers called to task. No innocents will die tonight, whoever wins. We have given our words."

  "You're going to fight it out in the ring like a show?"

  "It was the best I could do on such short notice. If you had warned me days ago, perhaps something else could have been arranged."

  I ignored that. Besides, I was feeling guilty.

  I took off the sweatshirt and laid it across the railing. There were gasps from the people near enough to see my gun.

  "The fight's going to take place out in the ring."

  "In front of the audience?" Edward said.

  "Yep."

  "I don't get it," Larry said.

  "I want you to stay here, Larry."

  "No way."

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Larry, you don't have any weapons. You don't know how to use a gun. You're just cannon fodder until you get some training. Stay here."

  He shook his head.

  I touched his arm. "Please, Larry."

  Maybe it was the please, or the look in my eyes--whatever, he nodded.

  I could breathe a little easier. Whatever happened tonight, Larry wouldn't die because I'd brought him into it. It wouldn't be my fault.

  I climbed over the railing and dropped to the ring. Edward followed me with a swish of black cape. I glanced back once. Larry stood gripping the rail. There was something forlorn about him standing there alone, but he was safe; that was what counted.

  I touched the shimmering curtain, and it was the lights. The cloth was white up close. I lifted it to one side, and entered, Edward at my back.

  There was a multi
layered dais complete with throne in the center of the circle. Rashida stood with Stephen near the foot of the dais. I recognized Richard's hair and his naked chest before he lifted the mask off his face. It was a white mask with a blue star on one cheek. He was wearing glittering blue harem pants with a matching vest and shoes. Everyone was in costume but me.

  "I was hoping you wouldn't make it in time," Richard said.

  "What, and miss the Halloween blowout of all time?"

  "Who's that with you?" Stephen asked.

  "Death," I said.

  Edward bowed.

  "Trust you to bring death to the ball, ma petite."

  I looked up the dais, to the very top. Jean-Claude stood in front of the throne. He was finally wearing what his shirts hinted at, but this was the real thing. The real French courtier. I didn't know what to call half of the costume. The coat was black with tasteful silver here and there. A short half-cloak was worn over one shoulder only. The pants were billowy and tucked into calf-high boots. Lace edged the foldover tops of the boots. A wide white collar lay at his throat. Lace spilled out of the coat sleeves. It was topped off by a wide, almost floppy hat with a curving arch of black and white feathers.

  The costumed throng moved to either side, clearing the stairs up to the throne for me. I somehow didn't want to go. There were sounds outside the curtains. Heavy things being moved around. More scenery and props being moved up.

  I glanced at Edward. He was staring at the crowd, eyes taking in everything. Hunting for victims, or for familiar faces?

  Everyone was in costume, but very few people were actually wearing masks. Yasmeen and Marguerite stood about halfway up the stairs. Yasmeen was in a scarlet sari, all veils and sequins. Her dark face looked very natural in the red silk. Marguerite was in a long dress with puffed sleeves and a wide lace collar. The dress was of some dark blue cloth. It was simple, unadorned. Her blond hair was in complicated curls with one large mass over each ear and a small bun atop her head. Hers, like Jean-Claude's, looked less like a costume and more like antique clothing.

  I walked up the stairs towards them. Yasmeen dropped her veils enough to expose the cross-shaped scar I'd given her. "Someone will pay you back for this tonight."

  "Not you personally?" I asked.

  "Not yet."

  "You don't care who wins, do you?"

  She smiled. "I am loyal to Jean-Claude, of course."

  "Like hell."

  "As loyal as you were, ma petite." She drew out each syllable, biting each sound off.

  I left her to laugh at my back. I guess I wasn't the one to complain about loyalties.

  There were a pair of wolves sitting at Jean-Claude's feet. They stared at me with strange pale eyes. There was nothing human in the gaze. Real wolves. Where had he gotten real wolves?