Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
Aheartbeat.
A cyclone of pink.
I freeze until Grayson pushes me into motion with a desperation I feel and can’t express.
Mr. Fifi Floofkins gives a plaintive yowl undercut by the roar of the ringmaster. He pushes into the trailer and Colt moves to intercept, slamming the door shut in the older vampire’s face.
A cloud of white gusts in front of my face, the temperature dropping dangerously.
“Go, go!” Colt jerks his head toward the back of the trailer, the tendons in his arms bulging.
Through it all, our shaman, she of the princess pink and golden curls, giggles.
The trailer door rattles and Lacey’s eyes snap open, as wide as I’ve ever seen them. Grayson pushes me toward the rear of the trailer and the small window cut into the exterior, a circle of stained glass marked by a bloody rose.
We’ve got to get out.
Frost etches across my skin, the ringmaster heaving against the door. Colt isn’t strong enough to keep him out for long.
A violent vibration rocks the trailer, punctuated by Charlotte’s laughter. The louder it gets, the harder it is to breathe, magic wrapping around our bodies to keep us in place. It starts at my knees until it knocks my teeth loose.
Someone is screaming.
Grayson throws me at the window, reaching around me to smash it open.
Glass falls like diamonds and the edges scrape and cut and make me bleed like the rose design. But the first gust of fresh air is a hook.
I push through the rectangle, dropping to the ground and landing hard enough to send the breath out of me. A yell cements in my throat as Lacey follows, then Grayson, and Charlotte’s laughter is our exit song.
“Mandi, run!” Grayson’s fear is a slap to the face and, lungs aching, I stand.
Our eyes catch each other and my gasp chokes into oblivion. Shards of glass have marked his skin, dots of blood. A siren call.
We don’t make it far.
A wall of magic presses against us, corralling us tight to the exterior of the trailer. Grayson lands on his feet, glancing up, Lacey stilling as vampires separate from the darkness.
Everything inside me tenses.
I’m back in the castle, surrounded and cut off from everything and everyone, powerless.
Past and present collide.
The vampires are here again wearing different masks and costumes, but have the same intent. They’ll never let us go now. We threatened one of their own with this visit. With our curse.
I shake it off as Grayson growls and the sound lifts the fine hairs on my skin.
One of the vamps clucks her tongue, her head tilting to the side like it’s broken, her eyes shadowed by black-and-white makeup.
“Running off so soon?” Her fangs peek out beneath garish red lips. “We haven’t gotten to play yet. You’re dead anyway. What’s the rush?”
Lacey moves faster than my eyes can track. Her fist plows into the vampire clown’s face, smudging her makeup and sending the woman ass over head.
The element of surprise lasts for a millisecond. The others hiss, dividing their attention between me and Lacey. She’s the bigger threat.
I’m not.
Two of them cut to the left to follow Lacey, and the others shrink their circle around me and Grayson.
Panic spreads, pungent and bitter, useless.
I grab a piece of broken glass in my hand, holding it tight enough to slice myself. The second of the vamps moves towards me.
Behind us, the caravan door shatters and the sound splits the night.
“Two dead dogs walking.” The vampire’s skin gleams under moonlight like marble, his smile tugging the corners of his lips high.
Young, twenties I’d say, trapped there forever.
Their hisses kill any illusion of youth or innocence.
Kill or be killed.
Grayson erupts. He throws his body in front of me, caging me between his spine and the trailer, swiping with black-tipped claws that burst through his skin.
He slings those claws toward the vampire’s chest to shed through his costume and his roar sends a jolt up my spine.
I realize two things in sickening tandem—we’re not supposed to leave this place. And Grayson is shifting.
The danger, the fight, forces his wolf to rise through the potion, hurling itself against his skin until thick fur pushes its way out. His features morph with the next snap of his teeth.
He doesn’t look back, as though the pain of this gift is actually a punishment.
Instincts beg me to follow him, to let the call of the change save me from the vampires.
Nothing happens.
Grayson attacks, lunging for the vampires and away from the shattered window and the trailer.
He knocks me further behind him in the same beat, with the strength of a whole wolf instead of a condemned one.
He throws himself into the fight and wrenches his claws out of a vampire’s throat, tearing out his trachea.
The last parts of his humanity disappear beneath a barrage of fangs and claws and blood.
Someone is screaming. I think it’s me. My chest goes tight and I slash the glass at anyone who comes close enough.
I can’t help Grayson. I can’t even save myself. Suddenly the cost of those memories feels like a pittance compared to this. What do I want to hold onto, anyway? I should have given Charlotte anything she wanted in exchange for the cure.
Shift complete, a massive black wolf lands on all fours. Before I have a chance to call for him, Lacey is there, her eyes wide and dark.
Jaw locked, her hand bands around my wrist. “Follow me.”
I dig my heels in. “We have to help him.”
“He’ll kill us too if we stay.”
Blood spatters her face, fingers holding hard enough to bruise. Another howl sounds before I hear the sound of sputtered gurgles, someone drowning in their own blood.
Breathing hard, I follow.
Life is a torture of screams and growls. Lacey drags me away from the trailer as Grayson roars again.
We go through the woods, away from the bright lights and the scents of popcorn for the stupid mortals. The ones who have no idea their show will end in death instead of gravity-defying stunts.
Through the shadows and trees, her touch as cold as death, both men behind us giving us this chance.
The woods are no better when those sounds echo off trunks and reverberate in my ears. I left something important with Grayson. I don’t think I’ll ever get it back, especially not if he goes down to save me.
I pull Lacey to a stop with feet to spare between us and the car. “We can’t leave him. We have to go back.”
I’m sweating so much her fingers keep slipping on my wrist.
Until I look down and realize I’m covered in blood. My mind blanks, eyes darting across the spatters covering my shirt and my forearms. But I’m…okay. I’m not hurt.
Whose blood is it? When did this happen?
Lacey’s face is moon pale and she licks her lips, swallowing the blood. “Colt will handle it.”
And what she doesn’t say, I read between the lines. I have no wolf and no training in self-defense. I’m the weak link and Lacey is the only reason I’m still standing. I have no power, no matter how much my body hums with it.
“But Grayson—”
“Trust Colt.”
Worry numbs my fingers. I can’t trust anyone. I don’t even trust myself.
Lacey herds me into the car and locks the doors behind us like it will do some good. Those locks won’t keep anyone out, not a circus full of vampires, nor a violent wolf.
I’m shivering when Lacey flings something across my shoulders, tucking the jacket around me and ignoring the stains.
“Hey, it’s gonna be fine.” Her voice shakes.
Adrenaline vibrates through me, my hands curling and uncurling on their own. My teeth chatter and I clamp them shut.
“We couldn’t even get the shaman’s help,” I mutter. “All of this and for what?”
I lift my chin slowly.
I got Grayson killed to get the cure we never found.
We came all this way on a last-ditch effort and look where we ended up? In the middle of a pack of bloodthirsty vamps with a young girl wanting our memories and offering up no substantial proof she even has the cure.
“No, we couldn’t get her help,” Lacey agrees.
“We wasted this trip. We’re going to die.”
Interesting, how those words start to mean so little after you use them so much. I must have said it to myself too many times because now, they land soft and meaningless, the same as snowflakes. Gone the second they touch your skin.
“We didn’t waste the trip, Mandi.”
Lacey reaches into the rear pocket of her pants and draws something rectangular out. She tosses it to me, my numb hands fumbling the catch.
A small journal lands on my lap instead.
“I stole the girl’s magic book.”
At first, the sentence means nothing. Her voice comes from too far away to make sense, my head filled with the sounds of screaming and Grayson’s growls. Then the truth clicks into place and I gasp.
“When did you steal this?”
“When she was talking about that fucking awful cat. That thing gave me the creeps.” Lacey shivers.
“Anyway, I figure maybe the witches can use it to make the cure themselves. The information we need should be in there. This way, we don’t have to donate any memories so she can keep her face pimple free. ”
Surprise lands in the silence between us. The outside world is hushed, like someone flicked a switch, and I stare at the journal until my eyes blur.
Are the answers in here, in a book tiny enough to balance on my palm?
The window rattles with a bang and Lacey and I both jump. My mouth goes dry and I swallow, teeth chattering. A handprint leaves smudges of blood and there’s Colt, bent at the waist.
“We need to go.” He doesn’t ask for help as he drags Grayson behind him.
Blood speckles both of them and I fog the glass to get a closer look. Grayson is passed out but human, much bigger than the vampire, and pure dead weight.
Panic turns my heart to ash and I bolt out of the seat, clutching the journal tightly. “He’s dead!”
“He’s not gone yet.” Colt has both his arms hooked under Grayson’s shoulders. “I’ve got this.”
Even with his strength, Colt struggles. He balances Grayson against the side of the car before pulling open the door and throwing the unconscious man in the backseat.
Colt might have this, but I don’t. I struggle to adjust Grayson onto his back, his limbs flopping toward the floor. Finally I get his head balanced on my lap as Colt jumps into the driver’s seat.
“Are you okay? Is he? What happened?” I glance between Grayson and Colt, finding panic but no answers.
Freak out is a mild understatement.
A current of terror makes thought impossible. I run my hands over Grayson’s chest and the scratch marks, the bite marks, Colt’s jacket wrapped around his waist. There’s nothing left of the clothes he’d ruined during the shift.
“He fought like hell.” Colt twists the keys in the ignition, gunning the car and slamming his foot on the gas.
We bolt out of the woods and peel off down the road.
“That doesn’t answer my question.” My tone goes high.
I taste blood but I’m not sure if I bit my tongue and it’s mine or if I’m imagining things.
Colt refuses to answer. He checks the rearview mirror before settling with both hands on the wheel and his eyes black and worried.
That worries me even more. Colt is the stoic one.
If he’s checking for threats in the mirror, then they’re real. And they’re coming for us.