Chapter 20 #2
“Don’t.” He shook his head. “I do not blame you, my girl. You should not either.” A warm smile spread over his face. He reached out, clasping my hand in his, my skin buzzing.
A sob caught in my throat, his touch spilling my tears down my cheeks.
“How can you not?” I still didn’t understand how he couldn’t hate me. Fear me.
“Like I told you, you freed me. I am no longer confined to that broken shell.” His hand rubbed mine, sending electricity into my veins. His smile curled coyly. “I’ve been waiting for you to get here. To this point. You amaze me every day.”
“What?” I sucked in. “You knew I had to let my shadow connect to you?”
“Well, not to me precisely, but to the spirit plane. After seeing what you and Warwick could do, your spirits going between each other on another plane, I thought it might work here too.”
“Then why didn’t you just tell me that?” I could feel my energy dipping in my real body. Where Warwick and even Scorpion were effortless to link with, this wasn’t. It wasn’t unnatural; it just took much more work and concentration to stay in the space between life and death.
“I tried the best I could, but I realized you had to get here on your own, to understand. To let go of your fears and guilt. I could tell you, but you would not understand until you did it yourself.”
Through the air, Zelda’s voice pierced the connection.
“Bunic?!” Grandmother! Her call carried to where we were, slicing through the spirit plane like a knife, Tad’s shade vanishing, crashing me back to my body. My head twisted to Esmeralda, and she stared at me like I had grown five heads.
“Bunic?, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. What are you doing up here?” Zelda stomped into the rotunda we had been working in, shooting me a dirty look, continuing to her grandma. “You know you shouldn’t be out in the cold like this.”
“I’m fine.” Esmeralda barked, her gaze still on me.
“You are not fine. You shouldn’t be out here doing . . . whatever this is.” Zelda grabbed her fingers, a frown burrowing into her beautiful features, snarling at me with an accusatory look. “Your hands are freezing.”
“Stop smothering me.” Esmeralda tugged her arms back. “I’m not a child.”
“Really?” She once again glared at me, then glanced back at her grandma. “Could have fooled me. Up here smoking and drinking like a teenager.” She tsked. “You know you shouldn’t be doing any of that.”
“Gods, you are such a pain in the ass.” Esmeralda rolled her eyes, puffing on a smoke she held in her fingers, wiggling her very worn bunny slippers. “Let me have the little joy I have until I croak . . . which I thought you’d be happily waiting for.”
“Stop it.” Zelda inhaled and exhaled loudly.
“We’re opening soon. You need to get warmed up, get dinner, and get dressed.
” She tugged the blanket around her shoulder tighter, swiveling back for the path, her lids narrowing on me.
“Stay away from her.” She leaned in with a sneer.
“I don’t know why Jethro deems you worthy enough to protect, but you aren’t one of us.
I see through you. You are going to cause nothing but misery and devastation here.
” With that, Zelda headed back for the carnival.
“She is just like her mother.” Esmeralda shook her head, stubbing out her cigarette. “Another nagging bitch.” She huffed, moving for the exit. “But she’s not totally wrong.”
My chin jerked up at her sentiment, her scrutiny drilling into me.
“You aren’t one of us. From what I just witnessed, you aren’t one of anything, are you?”
I stared at her, swallowing.
“Yeah.” She nodded, a strange chuckle huffing from her.
“I had a feeling.” She shuffled out onto the pavement.
“Time for me to go blow sunshine up asses, telling them I see fortune and love in their future . . . what a crock of shit,” she muttered, heading down the hill to the circus tents and wagons.
Leaning on the railing, I gazed over the park.
The sun had set, and the firebulbs were lit, giving off a spooky, romantic glow to welcome guests for a seductive night of emptying their wallets for just a whisper of joy and the possibility of another life.
Taking in a deep breath, I longed to reach out to Tad again, but exhaustion ran through my body like a train.
The hours of working with Tad and Esmeralda stole most of my energy.
I barely got any sleep after last night, knowing Tracker was out there looking for me.
They somehow found out I wasn’t with my friends in Budapest and knew enough to track me down to this group.
An awareness grazed at the back of my neck, whipping me around to the nightfall creeping in around me. The sensation of being watched shivered down my spine. I saw nothing but darkness but could feel in my gut something or someone was out there. Watching. Waiting.
Darting out of the pavilion, I prepared to hear footsteps or feel someone coming after me, but nothing came. The feeling still didn’t leave me, the whisper of something at my back propelling me for the protection of the brilliant lights and people below.
Hunger drew me out from the seamstress wagon where I had been holed up all night, knowing it was better to stay far from the public venturing through the festival.
Markos probably had my picture spread far across the country with a bounty on it.
A single sighting of me could hurt Jethro and his people, and I wasn’t willing to do that to them.
Waiting until the circus closed, I slipped from the last wagon in our camp, heading for the tent I knew had food and drink for the entertainers’ post-performance.
The bitter cold had me hunkering down in the fur I had wrapped around my shoulders.
The firelights along the path flickered, the smell of sugar still hanging in the air, remnants bursting from the overflowing trash bins.
Voices and laughs floated from the big tent at the end, filled with the troupe coming down from the buzz of the show.
“Laura.” A deep voice came from the dark shadows passing through the carnival, a tall, built figure stepping out.
“Bazdmeg!” I yelped, swinging around to see the Master himself slip from the shadows like he was part of them, his piercing gaze watching me intently. “You scared me.”
Jethro didn’t respond, his attention fully on me, sparking energy down my skin.
He was still dressed in his costume, his top hat tipping lower on one eye.
Jethro was intense; he absorbed the space around him, though he felt like he could disappear in it just as easily.
His presence was captivating. Alluring. Pulling you to him, giving you no choice, and you didn’t want one.
“We can be frank with each other, right, Laura?”
Air huffed from my nose. “Think we both know that’s not my name.”
“Indeed.” He dipped his head in agreement, strolling closer.
“We are all misfits here. Many of us come from pasts that could endanger our futures. There are things we don’t want to get out.
This world is an unforgiving place, giving nothing, especially to those who don’t fit into society, whether fae or human.
This troupe is where you can start over, become whomever you want.
Though some pasts have found their way here, I have always held strong to the idea that we protect our own. ”
Swallowing, I kept my eyes on the enigmatic man, trepidation curdling in my stomach.
“You are not the normal misfit, Brexley Kovacs.”
Hearing him say my name out loud poured scalding heat down my throat. Not moving or responding, I waited for the axe to fall.
“We protect our own here. But when does one outweigh all the other lives here?” He lifted his brow.
“The risk of them digging deeper into us, finding things which should stay buried . . .” Every word was smooth and held no emotion, making it hard to decipher what he was feeling.
“Wrecking a vardo is nothing we haven’t dealt with before on a normal raid.
We are quite used to being targeted by police.
” He folded his arms. “However, I don’t think you fall anywhere near normal.
And I don’t think they will stop coming for you, will they? ”
“No.” Shame lowered my head, my tongue swiping over my bottom lip. I was putting all these people in grave danger.
“Coming for you or what you carry with you?” He nodded to the box I had strapped to me, never leaving it unattended.