Page 87 of The Circus

“I’m cold,” she says faintly, chin trembling. My forehead falls to hers as I choke on my tears, pulling her into me, releasing the pressure on her chest. If this is to be our last moments together in this life, she will know the peace of death in my arms.

“Shh, little ghost. I’m here,” I say, kissing her forehead. A fight ensues behind us, but I can’t care, not now.

“Teddy…”

I cup her cheek and hold her gaze.

“Why’d you do that, brat? I’m gonna beat your ass when I get to the other side.”

Her eyes close as the widest smile imaginable paints her cheeks.

“It’s beautiful over here,” she whispers, quoting her favorite book, a book scarily aligned with her in this moment. My eyes trace her ethereal face, death creeping through her veins, her muscles locking, her breathing shallow.

“Not nearly as beautiful as you,” I whisper, brushing my thumb over her cold forehead.

“Find me…always.”

“Always,” I choke, gathering her into my arms. She hums, her cold lips smiling against my throat, leaving a bloody kiss there.

And then, she stills, her final breath a soft exhalation against my skin. The girl who can see the dead has now joined them.

How funny a feeling, to lose your soul and still be cursed with life, for I will never truly exist beyond this point in time ever again. Edgar Allan Poe was right all those years ago; nothing can ever dissever my soul from hers.

So I smile, knowing that until I can join her, she will be safe, protected by me wherever it is she’s gone.

I’m just glad she finds it beautiful.

EPILOGUE

TEDDY

1 Day Earlier

“Before you disappear again,will you at least tell me why you’re so fond of frequenting an abandoned hospital, Theodore?"

Shit.

Hand on the brass knob for the backdoor, I carefully arrange my facial features and turn to face my mother. She stands at the entryway of the kitchen, bags beneath her tired eyes, arms crossed. Though she appears pissed, I see the spark of mischief in her gaze and relax. If she had to choose between me breaking and entering or killing people, the decision would be easy. How she knows we hang out there is a conundrum, so I search her gaze more thoroughly and roll my eyes when my genius brain figures it out.

“Cash’s fucking ‘Stang,” I mutter to myself. She hides a tempered smile and wanders into the kitchen, hiding the trembling of her hands as she clenches them near her ribs.

Leaning across the counter, she levels me with that parental gaze I know too well.

“He’s put quite a few miles on it in recent weeks. Ever since you and Eden started dating. His mom was…worried.”

“We’re not doing anything…illegal.”Not yet, anyways. My eyes dart to the clock on the microwave, and my muscles tense. I’m late, and I have someone very important to meet up with. She frowns.

“Youarean adult…” she trails off, eyes wandering away. With a sigh, I let my bag slip from my shoulders and hit the floor with a soft thud, the ax nestled safely between rope and duct tape and a few more knives. Ever since Eden shared St. Ignatius with me, I’ve been planning all the souls I yearn to take out there. Inducing true, real fear in others is what gets me off. There’s no better place than a haunted building to chase my victims through.

Rounding the counters, I grip her bony shoulders and pull her into a hug, resting my chin on her head. She’s slow to hug me back, warm and familiar but trembling constantly, now.

“Are you cold?” I ask, pulling her in tighter, unwilling to accept that maybe mom has the disease that killed her mother before I was even born. It’s something I’ve refused to acknowledge for years, but something that is now glaringly obvious.

“Don’t you worry about me. Just…make good decisions, honey. Don’t…don’t bring Cash or Eden?—”

Holding her shoulders, I pull her away and smirk at her.

“Who do you think brought me out there, mom? It’s why…” Now it’s my turn to trail off, to search for the right words to describe Eden and what she is and what she means to me, but I don’t even attempt to, because I know I will fall woefully short.

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