Page 43 of The Circus

She’ll just have to be a little sore tomorrow morning. And the next morning. I’ll lick it better, though, and bottle the tears she cries.

She stamps her foot in annoyance, bringing me back to reality, all of my fantasies evaporating, and I wink at her.

“Cash will share when he’s ready. But he is smart, and he may have…blackmailed her.”

Her pretty little mouth pops open in shock. Before she can pester me for more answers I’m unwilling to give, Brant strides up to us, shock on his face before he full-on belly laughs, everyone in our vicinity pausing to look. Again.

“Look, everyone! The freaks made it!”

No one truly reacts to his antics, other than to whisper or give us glances of disgust. He turns back to us, still laughing. “Shouldn’t you two be jumping off a bridge or something right about now?”

“Nah,” I say, squeezing Eden’s hand and pulling her past his taunting face. “But if you’re not nice, Branty boy, I’m sure karma will be pushingyouoff one.”

He stares after us in confusion, one too many hits taken to his poor brain. Dragging Eden to the punch table to help soothe more of her nerves before I ask her to dance, the eyes of all the chaperones lining the wall now stare at us in surprise. Dick’s beady little pupils glint with annoyance as they catch sight of us, but he bought my lie about being into Cash easily. Heard him discussing it with Daniel, saying how despicable being homosexual was.

Funny, that he hates what he is.

“Punch?” I ask, but Eden is staring out at the dance floor, her body tense. She’s terrified of their judgment, their jokes, their pranks. I can’t blame her. Fuck, I even blame myself, but now she has me in her corner. Now, we’re almost out of here, and she won’t ever have to worry about petty shit like this again.

I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing yet though.

She glances at me and nods, biting her lip. Fuck, she’s so stunning, even better than the image the voices made for me when I fantasized about this night. The dress hugs her petite frame, her makeup accentuating those violet eyes until theyshine like gems, her hair pinned back but curling around her slender face and cascading over her pale, bare shoulders. I’m about to tell her again how beautiful she looks, but my eyes snag on Miss Goss.

“Teddy,” she says, eyes terror-stricken, decorative scarf encircling her throat.Good. Seems my threats didn’t fall on deaf ears. The smile that paints my lips is evil in nature, as vile as the snake that seduced Eve.

“Miss Goss. Do we have another meeting next week?”

She trembles visibly, her wide eyes flicking between Eden and I. Deep, sick satisfaction pools in my gut, and the voices pace like obedient soldiers, patient now that they know I’ve set a date for her death. It will be bloody, and beautiful, what I have planned for her. She’ll be alive for most of it.

Unless her heart gives out.

“N-no, no, we’re done with our…meetings.”

I smirk.

“Shame. I hope you enjoy your summer, then,” I say, choking back a laugh as she sputters and reels at my subtle threat. I love toying with my victims beforehand, if I’m ever able. She just nods shakily, eyeing Eden again before she rushes off. When we’re alone, I can feel my little ghost’s eyes on me.

Ladling punch into two clear plastic cups, I hand one to her and avoid her gaze. Her tone is deep and slightly accusatory when she speaks. “What the hell was that about, Teddy?”

Taking a sip of the punch, I raise my brows.

“What was what about?” I tease. This girl will learn all of my darkest, most vile secrets. The voices ache for the day she watches me hunt and kill. To fuck her over a cooling corpse? To satiate my bloodlust with killingandfucking? It has to happen. She’s not afraid of abandoned buildings, or ghosts.

So I doubt she’d be afraid of watching me kill for her. I know her secrets run as deeply and darkly as mine, and therefore knowthat before this lifetime with her is over, I will kill in her honor. The voices can’t wait to give her such a gift.

“Teddy,” she growls again. Reaching up, I press my thumb between her furrowed brows and smooth the worry lines away.

“Eden, if I have to earn your secrets, then you have to earn mine.”

Her shoulders deflate. She’s resigned, but she isn’t happy about it.

“Fine,” she grumbles.

“Now,” I say, holding her gaze. “Let’s dance and pretend we’re normal for a little while longer, deal?”

Smiling with a shake of her head, she says, “Deal.”

We rollto a stop just outside the wrought iron gates of St. Ignatius. In the bluish light of the full moon, the stone edifice looms into view. At night, the asylum takes on an even more eerie edge, as though in the darkness, evil is given a chance to seep forward.

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