Chapter Twenty-Three
REVEL
I was hovering between consciousness and a dream when my phone chirruped. I wanted to ignore it, trying my best to cling to the image of hugging curves on my motorcycle, but curiosity wormed its way through the image.
Who the hell is texting me?
It wasn’t like I had anyone to talk to. I hadn’t messaged any past hookups to let them know I was in Dallas, and I’d just seen Zero a couple of hours ago. Maybe he wanted to talk more about his plan to terrify Arina into leaving the sideshow.
Still, why couldn’t it wait until morning?
The only person I wanted to talk to was Hallow—to give them a piece of my mind—but they didn’t text. I wasn’t even sure they had a cell phone.
With a groan, I pried my eyes open and crawled out of bed, crossing to the small counter where my phone was charging. My trailer might not have been as fancy as Night’s, but at least I didn’t have to share it with anyone. I’d take the cramped space and solitude over the stuntman bus any day.
Blinking for my eyes to focus, I glanced at the pop-up on the screen. All of my guesses were wrong.
Night: SOS
My throat tightened.
I wasn’t the magician’s go to for help—that was typically Daze. If the aerialist was out of commission or not answering, something was definitely wrong.
I pressed the call button and let it ring until Night’s voicemail picked up. Then, I tried again.
No answer.
Shit.
That wasn’t a good sign, but the chances of him answering had been slim to begin with. He was selectively mute, meaning he still had his voice but refused to use it. Even in an emergency, I doubted he’d speak to me.
With a sigh, I slipped on my tennis shoes and headed for the door, trying to call one last time. It went straight to voicemail.
“Fuck.”
So much for that…
I hung up and shoved the phone into the pocket of my sweatpants. Luckily, I wore clothes to bed tonight instead of sleeping in the buff like I normally did.
Jogging across the lot, my eyes zeroed in on Night’s trailer. Immediately, I noticed the blinds were open—or missing, I realized as I got closer—and the lights inside were off. Not a great sign.
I knocked on the door and listened for a reply.
None came.
“Night!” I called, banging my fist against the thin door again.
This time, I heard a muffled groan, and panic shot through me. I ripped the door open and climbed inside, bracing myself for whatever waited for me.
What I didn’t expect was to find Night face down on the floor, his crumpled, broken cell phone next to him. He was only wearing boxers, his back glistening with sweat, and it looked like he’d been crawling toward the front of the trailer when he collapsed.
“Night!” I hurried over a pile of his discarded clothes and dropped next to him on the floor. There wasn’t much room, especially not with how he was lying, but I managed to roll him onto his back.
His skin was on fire, burning against my fingers as I positioned him comfortably—as comfortably as I could. His eyes were closed, but the muscles in his face were twitching. Every so often a groan escaped him.
“What happened, you bastard?” I asked.
Aside from his eyelids fluttering at my voice, he didn’t give any indication that he’d heard me.
He clearly had a fever, even though he hadn’t acted sick earlier, but I had no idea how high it was.
Do I toss him in a cold shower?
Do I call 911?
My mind was racing, but not fast enough to work out my next move. I gently shook his chest, trying to wake him, and a growl erupted in his throat.
“Goddamn it, talk to me, you fucking asshole,” I ground out. His closed eyes fluttered again. “What do you need?”
He said nothing, but the muscles in his chest twitched. Then, his biceps.
I froze, hovering over him, unsure how to help him. I guessed my best shot would be to call the fire department and hope they made it before… something worse happened.
Pulling out my phone, I swiped my thumb over the screen. Night’s eyes flew open before I could hit the emergency button, and I froze. He glared up at me, his eyebrows furrowed and his dark blue irises rimmed in crimson.
There was something feral in the way his features contorted.
He looked pained, hungry, and fucking angry .
Baring his teeth at me, a growl rolled in his chest. He looked like he was ready to leap up and attack, and that’s when reality hit me.
Oh, fuck.
OH FUCK.
Night was going rogue.
I knew he’d been close to the edge before, the last time he tried to tear apart the circus with his bare hands, but Daze had been there to calm him down. Now, Daze was nowhere in sight, and even if I called him and told him to get his ass here, it might be too late.
Once an alpha succumbed to going completely rogue, there was no getting them back. A bullet to the head was the only way to save them, and everyone else, at that point.
Mate bonds were supposed to stop the rogue cycle and balance out an alpha who started to go feral, but it wasn’t like I had a goddamn omega handy. There was only me, Zero, and a bunch of betas who wouldn’t survive if Night got ahold of them.
This was bad. Really bad.
“Night, you asked me to come help, so I’m here,” I said, trying to reason with him.
Was there even a point? Could a rogue alpha be reasoned with?
No idea, but I had to try.
“Come on,” I went on, trying to keep my tone under control. “You just need to calm down. You’re okay, dude. I’m sure Daze will be back soon. You just gotta?—”
At the mention of the aerialist, Night’s face twisted into the most personified expression of rage I’d ever seen, and he grabbed the front of my T-shirt with both hands. Then, with unnatural strength, he rolled and slammed me against the trailer wall, scrambling to get on top of me.
“Fuck!” I yelled as my phone slipped out of my hand and hit the floor.
If this fucker broke it—rogue or not—I would kick his ass.
I grabbed his arms, trying to get him into a subdued position, but he fought ferociously against my hold. Like a wild animal afraid to be caged, doing everything possible to escape.
“Stop. Fighting. Fucker!” I narrowly avoided his teeth sinking into my forearm and growled, fighting to get a better hold on him. If I could pin him down, control his limbs somehow, I’d be better off.
Or I could knock him the fuck out with something heavy.
I looked around to see what I could grab, but the split second cost me my grip on one of his arms. He swiped out with his hand and ripped open my shirt, his nails slicing my chest. I hissed as hot pain lanced over my skin.
With a pained growl, I punched him in the jaw, but it barely fazed him. The red around his irises was darker now, slowly expanding outward over the whites of his eyes.
How long did he have left before he reached the point of no return?
Is he already there?
“ARGH!” I roared when one of his fists caught me in the jaw. My lip split, and I tasted blood.
With a surge of adrenaline, I kicked off the wall and rolled on top of him, managing to pin his arms to his chest. He bucked his hips, trying to throw me off, but my weight was enough to keep him in place.
“Stay still, dickhead,” I gritted out.
What did I do now?
If I could find some rope, I could tie him up. I was sure he had some buried in all his magician shit. But then what?
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I had no ideas, and I was wasting precious time.
Think, Revel, think. What would Zero do?
He’d be useless, that was for sure. Probably laugh and watch Night slowly slip into madness. The sick fuck might even get off on it?—
My moment of distraction cost me again, and I went airborne. I flew over Night’s head, landing hard on the trailer floor, and scrambled to right myself. Before I made it to my feet, the magician’s heavy form slammed into me, knocking the air from my lungs.
We flew backward, and my head bounced off the trailer floor. Lights popped in front of my eyes as Night wrapped his hands around my throat, squeezing hard enough to crush my windpipe.
I landed a few shots to his ribs and clipped his chin with my fist, but he didn’t even flinch. He was a true beast, terrifying in every sense of the word. As I watched, more red bled across the whites of his eyes, and his sapphire irises darkened to near black.
My heart stuttered, and his fingers wrapped tighter around my throat.
I was at a loss for what to do, but I couldn’t stop fighting. If Night escaped this trailer, the rest of the circus would be in danger. Hell, the rest of Dallas would be at risk until the fucker was handled.
No, I had to stop this.
My alpha instincts flared at the acknowledgement, and I bucked hard enough to send Night toppling off me. He still had a hold of my throat, but I was able to pry one hand off as I fought to pin him to the ground. I landed another solid punch to his jaw before I grabbed him by the throat.
He matched nearly every one of my moves, countering and blocking most of my attempts to get the upper hand, but I finally managed to land with one knee on either side of him again. The look on his face was unrecognizable, his eyes lacking any and all warmth they once possessed.
Shit.
I really didn’t want to kill him.
We weren’t exactly friends, but after working together for so long—years of performing in the ring—I’d grown attached.
The circus troupe was the closest thing I had to family, even with all their qualms and quirks.
“Goddamn it, Night,” I growled, every muscle in my body tight as I fought to keep him pinned.
If only there was an omega here to bite him…
Bite him.
The thought appealed to my alpha instincts, and I faltered at how strongly the words resonated.
Me biting him was pointless—bonds between alphas were fickle connections that faded quickly. Not to mention we weren’t in a fucking pack.
The thought was laughable, but despite my attempts to shake it, it lingered.
What harm could it do?