Page 7 of Tamed By the Lion Freak

"There you are," Madame Noir said, gliding over to their table. Her voice was honey over broken glass. "Have you thought it over? Are you ready to finalize your paperwork and join our carnival?”

Kitty's appetite vanished in an instant, replaced by a leaden weight in her stomach as the people in the food tent stopped eating and stared at them.

"Yes," she said, rising from her half-eaten breakfast. Her legs felt weak, unsteady. "Let’s lock down the details."

Sally drew in a breath with a shocked hiss.

Madame Noir's lips curved in a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Kitty suppressed a shudder. Those eyes reminded her of a shark's, black and soulless.

"Excellent. Follow me."

As Kitty trailed after Madame Noir, she felt Sally's gaze boring into her back. When she glanced over her shoulder, the old woman's expression was grave, almost pitying.

Madame Noir led Kitty to a small, cluttered office tucked away behind the main tent. The air inside was thick and stagnant, heavy with the scent of dust and something old and vaguely sinister. Faded pictures lined the walls, the eyes of past performers seeming to follow Kitty as she entered. She could almost hear their whispered warnings.

A large desk dominated the space, its surface a chaotic jumble of papers and strange objects. Crystals caught the dim light, throwing rainbow reflections across the room. What looked unsettlingly like a shrunken head grinned at her from atop a stack of ledgers. Kitty's gaze skittered away from it, her skin crawling.

"Sit," Madame Noir commanded, gesturing to a worn leather chair. Kitty obeyed, sinking into the seat. The leather was cold against her skin, and she could have sworn she felt it pulse, like the beat of some monstrous heart.

"Now then," Madame Noir began, steepling her fingers. Her nails were long and sharp, painted a deep red that looked uncomfortably like fresh blood. "Let's discuss your act with Leo. I have great expectations for this partnership."

Madame Noir's eyes glittered as she leaned forward, and Kitty shrunk back, pressing herself into the chair as if she could disappear into its folds.

"Here’s my vision." Madame Noir’s voice took on a dreamy quality that sent chills racing across Kitty's skin. "The spotlight narrows to a single beam. In it stands Leo, magnificent and terrible. You enter, dressed in a skimpy outfit with lots of sequins that will cast rainbow reflections against the lights. The crowd holds its breath as you approach the beast."

Kitty shifted uncomfortably, heat rising to her cheeks.

"You'll circle each other, a dance of predator and prey. But who is which? The audience won't be sure, as you both attack and retreat. Then, at the climax, you'll drop to your knees before Leo. He'll rear up, massive paws on your shoulders, fangs inches from your throat."

"But that's..." Kitty started to protest, her voice higher than usual. Madame Noir silenced her with a look that froze the words in her throat.

"I'm not finished. As Leo's jaws open wide, you'll lean in. Slowly, you'll place your head in his mouth. The crowd will scream. They'll think it's all over for you. But then you'll pull back, unharmed. Leo will drop to all fours, suddenly docile as a kitten. You'll ride him around the ring, a conquering queen on her ferocious mount."

Kitty's mouth had gone desert-dry, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. She swallowed hard, tasting fear. "Madame Noir," she managed, "what you're describing is impossible. No lion would allow that, let alone one as unpredictable as Leo."

“If you take this job, I can guarantee your safety.”

“How?” she asked.

Madame Noir's eyes flashed dangerously, and for a moment, Kitty could have sworn they glowed with an inner fire. "You’ll find that in this carnival, the impossible becomes merely improbable.”

If she was going to stick her head in a lion’s mouth, improbable wasn’t good enough.

“So you’re saying he’s well trained and has done this type of thing before?”

“Absolutely. Now, let’s talk about compensation.”

Yes. Let’s.

“I’ll pay you a salary of one hundred thousand dollars a year, divided in weekly salary checks.”

Don’t react. While that was slightly less than what she was making before Brutus attacked the audience member, no one was even remotely willing to hire someone with her reputation for anywhere near that amount.

“Free room and board, as long as you travel with the circus. You work nights only. One show a night. The carnival will film your act and put you on our social media channels.”

“Will I have to monitor them?”

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