Page 26 of Vampire's Choice

Merc was trouble. Lots of trouble. Knowing he was a danger to Clara or other women pissed her off, and made her recall the meanness she’d detected in him in the yurt. Yet Marcellus was obviously devoted to Clara’s well-being and protection, and Merc was part of her protection detail. If Marcellus thought Merc was a true danger to Clara, Merc would be nowhere near her.

More than that, she expected the incubus would be six feet under and worm food. The contradiction was puzzling.

“When you fought him, it didn’t feel like you were afraid of him at all. Were you?”

She tuned back in to Clara’s words. “No.” At least not of what made Clara and the other women afraid. That just made her want to kick his ass, and get past what she was pretty sure was bullshit, even if it was genuinely dangerous bullshit. Her desire to pursue what lay behind it was what made Merc most dangerous to her.

She thought about what she’d seen after the sparring match. No one talking to him, no obvious friendships. And he’d been here well over a decade.

Seeing Clara regarding her pensively, Ruth realized the conversation was taking too dark a turn. She didn’t want to pull Clara there, since the girl was already dealing with enough of that. Ruth tossed back the rest of the blood as Clara finished the cake. “Ready to show me around?”

“Sure.” Clara tidily put their plates and cups in a wash bin. Before they left, she introduced Ruth to the few occupied tables. She received friendly acknowledgements, curious looks, and brief summaries of their roles she committed to memory.

“We’ll do more introductions over the next few days,” Clara told her as they exited the tent. “We have a pretty good-sized crew here, and that’s just the humanlike races. Best to take it in stages. Yvette mainly wants you to know who and what to expect, so you don’t offend someone by accident.”

“Like large dragons?”

“Amazing, aren’t they? Dragons have serious protocols, so until you learn them, it’s best not to approach Jetana or her mate, Tragar. If you do surprise one of them, act like you’ve met Lady Lyssa in dragon form.” Clara stopped to demonstrate. “Respectful bow, back away, apologize for disturbing, et cetera. Now, if the babies take a liking to you, and want to perch or nibble, there’s no protocol for handling that. Just survive it the best you can.”

On that alarming note, Clara pointed out the communal showers and sleeping areas, including the pavilion tent where Ruth would be quartered. It was on the western perimeter and looked roomy for the fifteen people Clara said shared the space, including Ruth.

They moved past the Big Top, set up for practices and meetings of the whole troupe. Beyond it were hilly open fields and patches of forest. From Adan’s description, Ruth expected the in-between portal spaces drew in the real world environments they bordered, like the corner of a blanket pulled in under the crack beneath a door.

It was how the piecing of the island habitats to their real world counterparts worked. On the preserve, the “savanna” environment had a portal border to the actual African savanna. Though in their case, there were filters that allowed prey from the real savanna to wander in limited groups into the island savanna, offering the cats a chance to hunt.

Clara explained what other non-human races were with the troupe. Centaurs, unicorns, mermaids. A handful of common Fae, pixies and gnomes, were here. Their participation was permitted by King Tabor, the Seelie ruler, and Queen Rhoswen, the Unseelie one, Lady Lyssa’s half-sister. The one Ruth would cheerfully have punched in the face, though Adan and the Queen got on tolerably well now. Her brother was far more forgiving than Ruth.

“So many different peoples work and live together here who aren’t always friends outside of it,” Clara said. “I like the hopefulness of that. Look over there.”

Ruth followed Clara’s pointing finger down the hill they were standing upon. The slope was populated by white, yellow, purple and orange wildflowers. At its base, a lake spread out in an irregular shape, its slate blue waters lapping at sandy banks. A lissome windsurfer, clad in a wetsuit, was taking advantage of a fresh wind to streak across the water’s surface. She moved with her craft with grace and strength, anticipating its movements, gripping the bar on the sail.

“Oh.” Ruth’s eyes widened as two mermaids leaped out of the water, clearing the curved long line of the sail. It was a dramatic display of sparkling scales and bare skin, arched backs and throats. They circled the craft, came back and leaped again, one over the bow, the other over the stern, a choreographed dance.

“Sometimes we do water shows when we have performances on island resorts. That’s Medusa they’re practicing with. She and her man, John Pierce, have a house on an island off the Florida coast, a private artists’ retreat. They go there during the Circus’s off months. We do three months on, one month off. JP’s a former special ops guy and totally hot.”

“Like almost every person I’ve seen here,” Ruth observed.

“Yeah. Everyone new is given a week to gawp and drool before they’re expected to pull it together. As a vampire, you’re so used to being around eye candy, it’s probably nothing special.”

“Yes. If we didn’t come with the uber-charged libidos.”

Clara chuckled. “I’ve noticed that. Whenever I’ve met a vampire here, I can tell they’re doing the food chain evaluation, but they’re assessing other things, too. It’s unsettling, but most are decently polite about it.”

“As in, ‘I’m thinking about all the ways I could fuck you, but if you’re off limits—and your winged boyfriend could turn me into meat shavings—all I’ll be doing is thinking about it.’”

“Exactly.” An enigmatic smile touched Clara’s mouth. “She’s coming in. Let me take you down to meet her.”

When they reached the water, Ruth moved forward to help Medusa pull the craft onto the shore. A courtesy, since the woman looked more than capable of doing it on her own. However, as Ruth bent to grasp the board, she froze.

She was eye-to-eye with a bush viper.

A stuttered heartbeat later, she realized the snake was curled around Medusa’s arm. He had lifted and extended his head from where it had rested on the top of her hand. Now he doubled back to slither up her arm and join another snake, a much smaller one. They tied themselves in a companionable knot, then the smaller one formed a loose necklace around the woman’s throat and put his head on her shoulder, gazing out at the water as if he wanted her to return to windsurfing as soon as possible.

While Medusa looked young, Ruth sensed that impression wasn’t accurate. The sea green eyes studying Ruth held a maturity beyond her apparent age, and she looked human, but wasn’t fully, though Ruth couldn’t determine her race.

“Medusa, this is Ruth, the newest member of the security team. And appointee to my private army.”

“Welcome.” Medusa measured her with a glance. “If you passed Marcellus and Yvette’s inspection, you must be impressive.”

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