Page 13 of Vampire's Choice

Lady Lyssa and Lady Yvette were going to see a vampire female capable of being a bodyguard. Not the girl who fell asleep in trees with a book in her lap.

They’d entered the Circus campground, which distracted Ruth from the nerves the thought tried to poke to life. Colorfully painted wooden wagons, the 19th century ancestor of the modern RV, were scattered over several acres, arranged around large pavilion tents.

One of them had its flaps pinned up, revealing that it was a cook tent for the Circus troupe. A buffet was set out, and the picnic tables surrounding it were partially occupied. The buffet was attended by a handful of busy men and women wearing aprons. They moved between it and the prep area. Cooks monitored Dutch ovens and skillets on stovetops, chopped ingredients and stirred deep stockpots. She smelled some kind of chicken soup and fresh bread. Several camp dogs—possibly also performers, since one was a poodle doing an impressive, give-me-a-treat whirling dervish on his back legs—closely watched the goings-on.

“Why does it look like we stepped back in time?”

“In-between portal locations adapt better to less technology.” Adan gave it all a fond look. “When the Circus emerges into our world to do a performance, the wagons become RVs, and the cooking appliances update to the latest in shiny outdoor equipment. Unless Yvette wants it to stay old-timey looking for the parades they do when the Circus first ‘comes to town.’”

“That kind of set up takes a lot of work.”

“Yvette’s a damn good sorceress,” Adan said.

“Is she more sorceress than vampire?”

Adan shot her that patented predatory look of their kind, showing her the gleaming point of a fang. It reminded her that when he’d returned from the grueling years of Light Guardian training, his first order of business had been claiming Catriona for his own, making her his third mark servant, bound to him forever.

Even before seeing Ruth or their parents.

“One doesn’t exist without the other,” he said.

“Oh…wow.” Her attention was pulled to the sky. What her peripheral vision had suggested was a pair of large birds, maybe turkey vultures, turned out to not be that at all. Two young dragons, swooping and teasing one another, had changed course. They plunged toward the ground, on a straight line toward a plucked chicken sitting on a table, waiting for the cooking pot.

A screech cut the air, ten times louder and more ear-shattering than a hawk’s. What appeared in the sky, as abruptly as if it had materialized there, had Ruth readying herself for the unwise decision to fight or, the more prudent one, to run for her life. Adan clamped a strong hand on her arm, keeping her still.

“It’s best not to move,” he advised.

The really, really large female dragon, with teeth that looked longer than Ruth’s forearm—a lot of teeth—swooped downward, though not as precipitously as her young. She also didn’t come as close to the ground.

It was enough, however. The young dragons banked so close to their target the move rippled the cooks’ apron strings. They shot up into the air above the mother, then dropped like stones, landing on her back and hooking themselves to the layers of gleaming scales.

She grumbled at them, a sound that would make a pit bull’s snarl sound like the yip of a teacup Pomeranian. As she rose back into the air, continuing on, Ruth noted she dipped her wings at the lead cook, who gave her a respectful bow and sign of gratitude.

“Holy shit.”

Adan grinned. “Yeah. That’s Jetana. Welcome to a normal day at the Circus. There are lots of species and races here, most with their own protocols. Be sure to learn them. I don’t want to find out if a partially digested vampire sister can be restored.”

“Will Derek consider that trivial?”

“Let’s not test it.” Adan elbowed her.

She noticed everyone had stopped their conversations and eating with the appearance of the big female. They didn’t return to either until she was well on her way. An apparent sign of respect—and caution.

As they proceeded on, she took mental snapshots to consider or investigate later. Roustabouts sat on buckets, playing cards. A smithy, a muscular dwarf, worked under a smaller tent, shaping metal and offering advice to another man repairing a pulley system.

Acrobats practiced on open ground near jugglers. One woman was reading a book while in a Chinese split, her elbows on the ground between her spread thighs. She sucked on a Tootsie Pop, the purple wrapper creased in her fingers.

Ruth was getting her own interested glances. She didn’t act too friendly, but offered courteous nods when eye contact was made. The responses were a mirror of her own. This was a place where she’d have to earn her spot. She didn’t mind that. She preferred it.

When the hairs on the back of her neck rose, she glanced over her shoulder. She saw nothing but open ground between several of the wagons, but then a flock of starlings flushed out of a bank of long grass outside their perimeter. It reminded her of the warning signs when one of the big cats was in the area.

A shadow passed behind her, the brush of feathers against her thigh, sliding over her hip.

“Still say no?” A whisper in her ear, echoing inside her body.

Ruth spun, knocking against Adan as she did so. Her brother immediately went on alert, one hand on her arm, not to hold her, but to tell her where he was, like soldiers entering a battle zone. His other hand had lifted, ready to point a magical defense. “What?”

She paused, heart pounding. Gazed around her. The blacksmith was studying her with cool eyes. His companion was noting her exposed fangs and asking a low question of the dwarf, his brow lifted.

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