Chapter 21
CHAPTER 21
“ Y ou moved in with Ilya? Like, into his house?”
Mario grimaced at Patrick’s question as he watched his friend go through a series of strength exercises with resistance bands in the Circo weight room. Patrick had officially been pronounced healed, but recovering his physical condition would take weeks, if not months, more.
“He thought it would be best for our training.”
That, of course, was a complete fiction. But neither Mario nor Ilya had come up with a more logical explanation for why Mario was now living with his partner. Mario hadn’t wanted to at first, and they’d continued to argue about it for quite a while until Mario had finally capitulated. Ilya thought he was trying to protect Mario, and Mario couldn’t convince Ilya he was capable of taking care of himself without revealing more than was prudent about his real abilities. It was only because he could better protect Ilya that he’d agreed — plus the fact that being close to Ilya was what he wanted.
Personally, Mario was all in favor of letting people think they were just a normal couple, except that he didn’t think Ilya would be willing to act like they were together when they weren’t.
While Mario agreed living alone was dangerous if their suspicions were correct, it had its downside as well. It wasn’t easy for Mario to be in Ilya’s personal space and yet feel as though the gap between them was larger than ever. In the two days since Mario had moved his meager possessions into Ilya’s guest bedroom, they’d rarely spoken. It was possible that Ilya was just giving Mario space, but Mario had to wonder if the whole thought of “a psycho is after my partner, and they might kill me too” was finally sinking in for him.
It was sinking in for Mario, and he didn’t like it, not one damned bit.
“Training.” Patrick snorted. At Mario’s quelling look, he subsided with an apologetic grimace and lowered his voice. “Okay, I won’t tease. I know how you feel about him, and I guess it must be frustrating to be so close and yet so far.”
“You could say that,” Mario grumbled. He ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry, Pat. It’s just there’s been a lot lately, you know? With Cole and Daphne, and then Angel is stressed out because we haven’t heard a thing about either of them, and none of us know what to do that the police aren’t already doing better than we can.” He didn’t mention Gina, on the off chance that the wrong person might be listening. They couldn’t afford to let it be known that they were drawing a connection between the disappearances, just in case.
“Plus the accident,” Patrick agreed. He released the bands, letting them snap back against the hooks holding them to the wall. “Let’s not forget that.”
Mario nodded, wishing he could tell Patrick what they’d found on the recording, but Ilya had sworn him to secrecy. They had no idea who had tried to kill them, and Ilya didn’t seem ready to trust anyone outside the two of them with the information, not even Patrick. It wouldn’t do to let the saboteur know they suspected it had been anything other than the accident it appeared to be.
“I can’t forget it. It still gives me nightmares.” Mario shuddered, and he wasn’t exaggerating. It had been bad enough when he’d thought that he’d been unlucky enough to be under the crane when it fell; knowing someone had deliberately caused it to fall, that someone hated him enough to arrange his very painful, messy death was almost more than he could handle.
Knowing that the person who tried to kill them was someone with access to the building didn’t make it any easier to come to the warehouse, either. But there was no way to escape the necessity, especially with the money management had spent making things safe for them. In fact, after the findings of the investigation had exonerated Circo from negligence in the collapse, management had released still images from the CCTV footage that showed Mario throwing Ilya before leaping out of the way in the nick of time. The newspapers and tv reports had portrayed him as a hero, but he’d steadfastly refused to give a single interview. He was fortunate there was enough big news in Vegas every day that he’d quickly faded back into the woodwork.
“Where’s the boss man, then?” Patrick picked up his towel, dabbing at his face as he looked around the room. “Or did you slip your lead?”
“He had paperwork, and we rode in together, so I have to wait until he’s finished.” He shrugged. “I don’t mind, plus it gives me time to hassle you.”
Patrick laughed, then picked up the bands once more to start another set. “I can take it.”
Mario helped by counting Patrick’s reps, but despite his pleasure in spending time with his friend, he was eager to find out what Ilya had discovered. The “paperwork” Ilya was doing was less about his assigned duties at Cisco and more about trying to figure out who had been in the building that night. Whoever had sabotaged the crane must have badged into the building to do it, which significantly narrowed down the pool of suspects. The only problem was that the security logs that tracked comings and goings seemed to be limited to only certain people, and Ilya wasn’t one of them.
Patrick was finishing his last set when Mario felt as though he was being watched. He glanced up to see Ilya entering the locker room, and their eyes locked as Ilya made his way over to them.
“All done?”
“For now,” Ilya replied, and Mario could practically see the frustration on Ilya’s face. That meant he’d probably not been able to find anything of use. “Hey, Patrick. How’s it going?”
“Not bad,” Patrick grinned. “But I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about me reclaiming my partner from you anytime soon. Give me until the New Year, though, and I’ll give you a run for your money.”
Ilya snorted at the teasing, then reached out to give Patrick’s good shoulder a brief squeeze. “You can do it.”
“I’m sure gonna try.” Patrick stood, then bid them a good night before heading toward the showers.
“Ready to go home?” Mario asked, and then felt his cheeks heating a bit when Ilya looked at him. It probably had sounded proprietary, and he was still navigating their new dynamic.
“Yeah, ready,” Ilya said.
Minutes later, they were in Ilya’s SUV, and secure from both prying ears and CCTV, and Mario felt safe to speak freely. “I take it you didn’t find anything.”
“No, I didn’t,” Ilya grumbled. “I’m not in the correct management chain to be allowed access to the logs. They got a new computer system a couple of years ago, and ever since, it’s been difficult.”
Mario nodded; he’d not had much hope that they’d be able to find out. Then something occurred to him, and he slapped his head. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before. We could make a list of everyone we remember being there that day. There were people in the background of the videos you were taking, and almost everyone came running up after the crash. If someone was in the video, they couldn’t have been on the catwalk, and if they came up to us right after, they probably wouldn’t have had time to get down off the catwalk. So that will eliminate some people, at least.”
“It would be a start,” Ilya said. “We can start on it when we get home.”
Mario thought Ilya’s eyes slid towards him quickly, but then his attention was back on the road.
At the house, Ilya pointed to the kitchen island, which contained a sink and cooktop, as well as an area for eating. There were stools to sit on where a segment was raised to bar height. “Have a seat, and start jotting down our suspects while I get our dinner.”
“Don’t you want some help?” Mario asked. “I can chop things. Plus I don’t want you to feel obligated to cook.” Over the weekend, they’d mostly grabbed fast food while getting Mario moved in and settled.
“It’s fine. I actually enjoy cooking.”
Mario took a seat at the island and pulled out his phone. Ilya had sent him the videos of their practice, so he brought them up and noted people he saw in the background. He said the names out loud while Ilya set about putting together a quick meal of steak, steamed potatoes, and salad.
“That smells great,” Mario said, putting his phone away when Ilya placed a plate and a salad bowl in front of him. He was starving, but he waited until Ilya had joined him at the island with his own meal. They were silent for a few minutes while they both dug in; being athletes who worked out intensely every day left them with hearty appetites. When they’d both taken the edge off, Ilya took a sip of the iced tea he’d also served, then pointed at Mario’s phone.
“Let’s go through the list again. I know there were more people there, especially those who came up afterward.”
Mario obliged. “Angel, of course, and Bebe, Kari, Vik, and Emmie from the silks were over in their area practicing. I saw Dave, Chris, and Steve from the acrobats headed to the weight room, and I remember the three of them coming out after to see what happened.” Despite his shock in the moment, Mario found his recall was still decent.
“There was also the security team, Eli and Marcus,” Ilya added. Then he grimaced. “Gordon walked up a couple of minutes later.”
Mario glanced at Ilya, wondering if he should ask, and then he decided to go for it. “You really don’t like him,” he said. “I mean, yeah, he’s a smarmy piece of crap from everything I’ve seen, and frankly he creeps me out, but you always look like you’ve smelled something bad when he’s around.”
“Look, I don’t want to prejudice you against someone just because I don’t like them. But I’ve probably done that already if you’ve noticed, right?” At Mario’s nod, Ilya looked a little sheepish. “The board was very understanding while Derek was ill and when he passed. Most of them even came to the funeral. Including Gordon. But while the others gave their condolences, Gordon said, with his usual charm, ‘Maybe it was for the best. He couldn’t perform again, anyway’.”
Mario’s jaw dropped. “Who in the hell says something like that to a grieving man? What an evil piece of shit! That’s just?—”
When Ilya put a hand on his arm, Mario realized he was trembling with rage. He drew in a breath, forcing himself to calm down before Ilya could see how pure fury coursed through him. He curled his fingers into his palms, hiding the fact that his nails had grown and curved into claws. He could even feel his canines lengthening into fangs, such was the depth of anger he felt. Turning his face away, he closed his eyes, letting the emotions melt away in the way he’d been taught since he was old enough to talk. It took longer than he would have liked, and he could feel Ilya’s worried gaze on him.
“Are you okay?” Ilya asked.
Mario nodded jerkily. He breathed deeply again. “I don’t get angry often, but that made me so furious, I wanted to hit something.”
“So it appeared.” Ilya’s voice was soft, his tone soothing. “It’s okay, Mario. He’s an asshole, and I despise him, but I refuse to give him the power to hurt me. Sometimes I will twit him, which I admit isn’t the most mature response on my part, but we’re all allowed our little foibles, right?”
Mario turned his head, smiling crookedly. “I’m okay, really. All the Galliers have tempers, but our mother ingrained in us the need to control it practically from birth. She wouldn’t stand for any of us lashing out in anger. Sometimes something will catch me unawares and it peeks out before I can stop it, but you don’t have to worry. I’ve never yet lost it.”
“Good to know — you can look a little scary sometimes, you know.”
Mario winced. “Please know it’s never directed at you.”
“If you ever get angry at me, all you have to do is use your words.” Ilya shot him an amused glance. “Contrary to rumor, I won’t bite your head off.”
“I promise to use my words,” Mario replied, making a cross over his heart.
“Now we’ve settled that, is that everyone we can think of?” Ilya tapped the screen of Mario’s phone.
“I think so. There may have been people I didn’t notice in the heat of the moment, but it doesn’t eliminate very many, does it? I mean, even if we add the criteria that they’re not afraid of heights, I think we still have most of the people at Circo as suspects.”
“True.” Ilya frowned. “Now we have to figure out how to narrow down the list.”
“I’m not sure. We would have to do it in a way that doesn’t tip off the perpetrator that we suspect it wasn’t an accident.”
It all seemed too complicated. Mario was an aerialist, not a detective. In the Carnival, if someone had been guilty of anything — not likely, but if — Errante or Persephone would have known. Well, except for the one time they hadn’t, but it had taken a god to fool them. Unless Mario was very unlucky, he wasn’t up against anyone that powerful.
Ilya stood up, collecting their empty plates, but Mario jumped up and smacked his hands. “You cooked, so I clean. Gallier family rule,” he said firmly.
“Far be it from me to break a family rule,” Ilya replied. He sat back down, watching as Mario set about filling the sink with hot soapy water and hand-washing the dishes. “You know, it occurs to me we’ve never considered approaching it from the opposite way. Has anyone ever left the Carnival that had bad feelings toward Errante Ame or one of the other people in it? Or anyone he’s refused to hire and so they’re jealous? Could you email them and ask?”
Mario looked over his shoulder. “I don’t remember anyone,” he replied. “And the Carnival is still off somewhere out of contact.” He couldn’t tell Ilya that there was absolutely no way he could get hold of Errante to make the inquiry, and further, the Carnival may have come to this world and time period a thousand times over the millennia. There could have been hundreds or thousands of Travelers relocated here, and he doubted even Errante would remember every one of them.
“There have been people who have targeted innocent people for wearing red shirts on a Thursday,” Ilya said, his tone low and dark. “Someone with a grudge might decide to take it out on people who have only the faintest connection to whatever pissed them off.”
“I’d forgotten just how evil humans can be,” Mario muttered, looking down into the soapy water as he slowly wiped a plate. Then he froze. He, like Cole and Daphne, was more than just a member of the Carnival. If Gina was as well….
“I have to make a phone call.”
Ilya blinked. “Right now?”
“Right now.” Mario rinsed and dried his hands. He crossed back to the island and picked up his phone, then looked at Ilya. He should probably make an excuse and make the call in private, since Ilya wouldn’t understand the conversation. But Ilya’s life had been put in danger, too, and Mario loved him — if Ilya might one day return his feelings, Mario was going to have to come clean, eventually. “We’ll need to have a talk afterward, but for the moment, I need to call Angel and check something.”
“Okay…”
Ilya watched with visible curiosity while Mario called Angel.
“Mario? Has something else happened?” Angel’s voice was full of anxiety. Given how much bad news they’d had recently, he couldn’t blame her.
“No, nothing has happened. I need to know something. Gina Martin, from the Carnival, Do you know if she was… special?”
“Special?” Angel sounded puzzled.
“You know, like Cole and Daphne. Could she do anything others couldn’t?”
She gave a tired chuckle. “Sorry, I wasn’t sure what you were getting at, but if you’re asking if she is… wasn’t human, the answer is yes. She was a deer shifter. She joined the Carnival because her family was trying to arrange a marriage she didn’t want. Her world was very structured, and there was nowhere she could go to get away, except, well… to not be on that world any longer.”
“Thanks. One more question. You were checking on everyone else from the Carnival. No one else has gone missing, have they?”
“No one that I know about, at least,” she said. “Still nothing about Daphne?”
“I’m afraid not. I’ll let you know if we learn anything.”
Mario ended the call, then looked at Ilya, whose brow was furrowed in obvious confusion. He probably hadn’t heard Angel, but Mario knew his own side of the conversation must have been confusing.
“I take it you found out what you needed to know?”
Mario blew out a breath and ran his fingers through his long hair. How did you have a conversation with someone who was going to think you were insane? “I need to tell you something, and you’re going to think I’m crazy. I don’t know who is targeting us, but I think I know why .”
“All right.”Ilya’s expression was skeptical, but he was listening.
Mario steeled himself, hoping Ilya had an open mind. “I don’t think they took Gina, Daphne, and Cole, or tried to kill me because we’re from the Carnival.”
The words suddenly stuck in his throat. His mother’s admonition to never tell anyone seemed to freeze his tongue, and the teachings of a lifetime were harder to overcome than he thought. But he reminded himself he wasn’t on his own world, where being what he was had made him both a target of and a mortal enemy to those in power.
“It’s okay, Mario,” Ilya said gently. “What is it?”
He closed his eyes and prayed to whatever benign powers there might be in the universe, then opened them again.
“I’m pretty sure they targeted us because we aren’t human.”