Circus of the Damned

Chapter 36

Larry was lying on the floor, head cradled in Yasmeen’s lap. She held his wrists. Marguerite had pi

I drew the Browning and moved so I could point it somewhere between Yasmeen and the thing on the floor. I had my back to the curtain but moved away from it. Too easy for something to reach through.

“Let him go, now.”

“We haven’t hurt him,” Yasmeen said.

Marguerite leaned into Larry’s body; one hand cupped his groin, massaging.

“Anita!” His eyes were wide, skin pale; freckles stood out like ink spots.

I fired a shot inches from Yasmeen’s head. The sound was sharp and echoed. Yasmeen snarled at me. “I can rip his throat out before you squeeze that trigger again.”

I aimed for Marguerite’s head, right over one blue eye. “You kill him, I kill Marguerite. You willing to make the trade?”

“Yasmeen, what are you doing?” Jean-Claude came in at my back. My eyes flicked to him, then back to Marguerite. Jean-Claude wasn’t the danger, not now.

The thing on the floor rose on four shaky legs and shook itself like a dog after a bath. It was a huge wolf. Thick grey-brown fur covered the animal, fluffy and dry as if the wolf had been freshly washed and blow dried. Liquid formed a thick puddle on the carpet. Bits of clothing were scattered around. The wolf had emerged from the mess newly formed, reborn.

A pair of round wire-framed glasses sat on the glass and black coffee table, neatly folded.

“Irving?”

The wolf gave a small half-growl, half-bark. Was that a yes?

I had always known that Irving was a werewolf, but seeing it was something else entirely. Until just that moment I hadn’t really believed, not really. Staring into the wolf’s pale brown eyes, I believed.

Marguerite lay on the ground behind Larry now. Her arms wrapped around his chest, legs wrapping his waist. Most of her was hidden behind him, shielded.

I had spent too much time gazing at Irving. I couldn’t shoot Marguerite without risking Larry. Yasmeen was kneeling beside them, one hand gripping a handful of Larry’s hair. “I will snap his neck.”

“You will not harm him, Yasmeen,” Jean-Claude said. He stood beside the coffee table. The wolf moved up beside him, growling softly. His fingers brushed the top of the wolf’s head.

“Call off your dogs, Jean-Claude, or this one dies.” She stretched Larry’s throat into one straining pale line to emphasize her point. The Band-Aid that had been hiding his vampire bite had been removed. Marguerite’s tongue flicked out, touching the straining flesh.

I was betting that I could shoot Marguerite in the forehead while she licked Larry’s neck, but Yasmeen could, and might, break his neck. I couldn’t take the chance.

“Do something, Jean-Claude,” I said. “You’re the Master of the City. She’s supposed to take your orders.”

“Yes, Jean-Claude, order me.”

“What’s going on here, Jean-Claude?” I asked.

“She is testing me.”

“Why?”

“Yasmeen wants to be Master of the City. But she isn’t strong enough.”

“I was strong enough to keep you and your servant from hearing this one’s screams. Richard called your name, and you heard nothing because I kept you from it.”

Richard stood just behind Jean-Claude. Blood was smeared from the corner of his mouth. There was a small cut on his right cheek that trickled blood down his face. “I tried to stop her.”

“You did not try hard enough,” Jean-Claude said.

“Argue amongst yourselves later,” I said. “Right now, we have a problem.”

Yasmeen laughed. The sound wriggled down my spine like someone had spilled a can of worms. I shuddered, and decided then and there that I’d shoot Yasmeen first. We’d find out if a master vampire was really faster than a speeding bullet.

She released Larry with a laugh and stood. Marguerite still clung to him. He got to his hands and knees with the woman riding him like a horse, arms and legs still clamped around him. She was laughing, kissing his neck.

I kicked her in the face as hard as I could. She slid off Larry and lay dazed on the floor. Yasmeen started forward and I fired at heir chest. Jean-Claude hit my arm, and the shot went wide.

“I need her alive, Anita.”

I jerked away from him. “She’s crazy.”

“But he needs my assistance to combat the other masters,” Yasmeen said.

“She’ll betray you if she can,” I said.

“But I still need her.”

“If you can’t control Yasmeen, then how in the hell are you going to fight Alejandro?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Is that what you wanted to hear? I do not know.”

Larry was still huddled by our feet.

“Can you get up?”

He looked up at me, eyes shiny with unshed tears. He used one of the chairs to brace himself and almost fell. I grabbed his arm, gun still in my right hand. “Come on, Larry, we’re getting out of here.”

“Sounds great to me.” His voice was incredibly breathless, straining not to cry.

We worked our way towards the door, me helping Larry walk, gun still out pointed vaguely at everything in the room.

“Go with them, Richard. See them safely to their car. And do not fail me again like you did today.”

Richard ignored the threat and walked around us to hold the door open. We walked through without turning our backs on the vampires or the werewolf. When the door closed, I let out a breath I hadn’t even known I was holding.

“I can walk now,” Larry said.

I let go of his arm. He put a hand against the wall but otherwise seemed okay. The first slow tear trailed down his cheek. “Get me out of here.”

I put my gun up. It wouldn’t help now. Richard and I both pretended not to notice Larry’s tears. They were very quiet. If you hadn’t been looking directly at him, you wouldn’t have known he was crying.

I tried to think of something to say, anything. But what could I say? He had seen the monsters, and they had scared the shit out of him. They scared the shit out of me. They scared the shit out of everybody. Now Larry knew that. Maybe it was worth the pain. Maybe not.

Chapter 37

Early-morning light lay heavy and golden on the street outside. The air was cool and misty. You couldn’t see the river from here, but you could feel it; that sense of water on the air that made every breath fresher, cleaner.

Larry got out his car keys.

“You okay to drive?” I asked.

He nodded. The tears had dried in thin tracks down his face. He hadn’t bothered to wipe them away. He wasn’t crying anymore. He was as grim-faced as you could be and still look like an overgrown Howdy Doody. He opened his door and got in, sliding across to unlock the passenger side.

Richard stood there. The cool wind blew his hair across his face. He ran fingers through it to keep it from his face. The gesture was achingly familiar. Phillip had always been doing that. Richard smiled at me, and it wasn’t Phillip’s smile. It was bright and open, and there was nothing hidden in his brown eyes.

Blood had started to dry at the corner of his mouth, and on his cheek.

“Get out while you still can, Richard.”

“Out from what?”

“There’s going to be an undead war. You don’t want to be caught in the middle.”

“I don’t think Jean-Claude would let me walk away,” he said. He wasn’t smiling when he said it. I couldn’t decide whether he was handsomer smiling or solemn.