Page 2 of Ensnared By the Stone Freak

The ticket booth was a movable trailer with side panels that opened and a simple flat roof. There was no sign of the big, macabre shape of the gargoyle. I had to have imagined it, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was real—very real—and it made my heart pound in my chest to think about it.

Once we bought our tickets and entered the grounds, I was caught in a vague sense of unease. Something was wrong; something wasdifferenthere. Shadows were where they shouldn’t be, and things were in too much disrepair to make sense. And yet… a huge crowd had gathered tonight, throngs of people clustering around each attraction. A line snaked outside of a tentthatpromisedfortunes read by a Madam Sally. There was a show featuring a bearded lady and other strange sights to draw the eye. A merry-go-round with chipped, nightmarish-looking horses played music that was just a tad too slow to sound cheerful.

In the distance, a Ferris wheel rose behind the big top, its carts swaying in the wind as it spun gently. The sight of that giant metal wheel, rusted and worn, made my stomach shrink. There was no way that thing was safe. Why were people tempting fate by getting on it? Then I caught the look on Lis’s face and realized she was as entranced as the rest of the crowd. Her eyes were huge, her pupils dilated, and she kept twisting her head to catch every sight, like she couldn’t stand to miss a thing.

“Come on,” I said, drawing my friend to the side when a huge pet pig suddenly trundled by. He was black,with rough, coarse fur and a set of very impressive tusks. Did pigs even have tusks, or was that more of a boar thing? I wasn’t sure, but he had to be tame because heworea leather collar around his huge neck, decorated with metal spikes. “Let’s get to the big top now so we can get good seats.” And so I could prevent my entranced friend from suggesting we get on any of the derelict-looking rides.

The tent’s interior made me forget how dark and shabby everything outside had seemed. We’d gone from horrorshow to circus by ducking through the large canvas flaps. Lights hung from the tall poles that held up the tent roof, aimed toward the ring at the center. Already, people had begun to file in,but there were still plenty of good seats. It wasn’t a surprise when Lis squealed with excitement and began pulling me to seats in the front row. “What if they ask for volunteers?” I hissed at her, but that was no deterrent;it was only fuel for her eagerness.

The seats were slightly uncomfortable when we sat down, the lights still bright and the crowd murmuring with excitement. Across from us sat the entrance to the ringwherethe performers wouldenter, giving us the perfect view. I had to crane my head to look at the masts where a trapeze dangled, but there wasn’t so much as a hint of safety nets anywhere. Then my gaze landed on a shadowy shape across the ring, moving from one side to the other before ducking into the back where the performers were getting ready. My skin broke out in goosebumps,and a shiver shot down my spine.

It was a woman with gaunt features and a rail-thin body, tall enough to make me feelas ifshe weretowering over me, even from this distance. Wild hair, streaked with silver,framedhersharp features. ThoughI could not see her eye color fromso far away,it was something different—impossible. Like everything else in this place. Even the way shadows clung to hershimmering black robes felt wrong. Blood-red light glinted at the tips of her fingers, which reminded me far too much of claws as she ducked through the flaps and vanished into the tent’s shadowy depths.

“Did you see her?” I asked Lis, but my friend only looked confused when I described the gaunt, shadowy figure. I wanted to put words to her—spider, black widow, sorceress—but that was too fanciful for my normally spreadsheet-and contract-focused mind. Twisting my head, I wondered if it was too late to get up and leave;I had a bad feeling about this place. And then the lights went out,and the crowd hushed. I felt trapped in place,thoughthis should have been a fun night out. Why did everyone around me act like this was the greatest thingsincesliced bread? This was the creepiest place I’d ever seen—didn’t they sense the danger?

The crowd was transfixed even before a voice echoed through the dark—the ringmaster welcomed us to the Twisted Carnival of freaks and magic, featuring all the things that go bump in the night. I was as entranced as everyone else now, my eyes locked on the light glowing at the center of the ring. Wasn’t there usually a jaunty man with a top hat? Where was he? Then, the flaps at the back opened, and the first act began. I forgot all about wanting to leave at that point—who would want to leave when the show opened with a real freaking lion? I had never been this close to a beast like that, and he was magnificent, as was the blonde-haired woman who guided him through his tricks.

Three acts later, everything felt like a blur, and my mouth was dry because I’d forgotten to close it half the time in amazement. Lis was right,after all. This show was insane—scary, thrilling, amazing, and absolutely worth my money and time. I never wanted to leave. I wanted to figure out all the tricks—all the magic that shouldn’t be. How did that trapeze artist look like she was flying? How could the fire breather make her flames turn blue? Everything was magical, bizarre, mind-bending.

Then he entered the ring: aman dressed in leather pants and boots and nothing else, his muscled chest gleaming beneath the colored spotlights. He looked like he could give the strongman a run for his money whilemaintaining the sleek composure ofthe incredible athletes from the trapeze act. Everything about himexuded strength, steadiness, and firmness—like a rock. The firm angle of his chinremindedme of granite; hisblack hair with bluish hintsbrought to mindjet. I was willing to bet his eyes wouldgleam like tiger’s eye,sapphires,ormaybe even emeralds, but they were hidden behind a pair of sleek shades.

With great flair, they strapped him to a spinning, rotating wheel,and it made my stomach twist,too. Watching him get tied up with leather straps shouldn’thavelookedas sexy asit did, but it really did. The bands around his biceps only accentuated how big they were. That strap around his chest made me want to lean in close to admire his heavy pectorals, trace a path down his ridged abs,andfollowthe trail of fine black hair that led into his pants. Okay, he was totally hot and possibly the firstpersonin months towake up my slumbering libido. I guess that was a good sign, but I wasn’t certain. This was hardly the timeorplace to feel attracted to anyone. Thorn had ruined me for anyone new anyway;I had sworn off dating altogether.

“Who said anything about dating?” Lis whispered under her breath inresponseto my thoughts. For a brief, insane moment, I thought she’d read my mind, but Imusthave said it out loud. “You can stare at the eye candy, can’t you? He’s hot. And if he asks for your number…” I knew she had to be waggling her eyebrows at me, but it was too dark in the audience to see.

My eyes didn’t want to leave the sight of the daring hunk strapped to that wheel anyway.Aknife throwerwaslining up in front of him, a knife held delicately between her two fingers as she took aim. She bounced on her toes, her tight black curls with colorful highlights swaying around her shoulders. I held my breath as the knife winged through the air and loudly clattered against the spinning wheel. Not only had I held my breath,butI’dalsosqueezed my eyes shut, and when I blinked them open, I expectedto see either blood or that knife embedded in the wooden wheel.

It wasn’t anywhere I expected it to be. Instead, it lay in the sand beneath the slowly spinning, hunk-decorated wheel. The second knife flew before I could brace myself, but I saw it this time—saw it but was certain I was mistaken. Just before the knife struck, the bound man turned gray as rock and—bam—the knife struck him dead center in the chest, then clattered harmlessly to the ground. He jeered at the knife-wielding lady, “Is that all you’ve got,Nakusha? I didn’t even feel it! Come on, throw harder!” His voice was a heavy bass with a deep rumble, like gravel rolling down a slope. It evoked images of rockslides and avalanches, of something deep and primordial, elemental.

His partner in the ring growled bloodthirsty threats that made the audience laugh and point, surprised atsomuch venom coming from a pint-sized woman with childlike features. I only had eyes for him, my gaze locked on his dark sunglasses, wishing I could see beneath them. What color were his eyes? Was it any of the colors I’d guessed? I was about to have my answer, but I wasn’t ready for it.

After several more daring knife throws that should have hurt him but bounced harmlessly off his skin, he called for a volunteer to check the knives and prove they were real. The crowd held its breathaspeople stuck up their arms and waved, hoping to be picked. Lis bumped my shoulder, urging me to volunteer, but I clamped my hands beneath my armpits and refused. “There, the lovely lady with the freckles and the hair like fine chocolate,”that deep, husky voice drawled, and his bloodthirsty knife-throwing assistant paraded my way with a feral grin on her pixie-like features.

“This won’t hurt a bit,” she assured me as she took my hand and drew me from my seat. “Not at all,” she added,but I didn’t believe her for a moment. She brought me to the table where her knives were lined up and bade me check them. They were real, as I knew they’d be. Then she told me to test all the knives that lay at the bottom of the still-slowly-rotating wheel with the impervious hunk strapped to it.

My face was on fireasI knelt in the sand;all eyes were on me, and I hated that. It made me feel like I was doing something wrong, like I was about to trip over my own feet and embarrass myself. Then there was the shirtless, leather-wearing man spinning right in front of me, my face at crotch height. Oh god—his grin as his headdippedlow was devastating. How did his glasses stay onduringthis? My belly ached withadesire that had no place in this moment. Tension filled my body as I fumbled with the knives in the sand.

One of the razor-sharp and very real blades nicked my finger, and with a gasp,I held it up for the audience. My eyes slipped from the spinning man’s far-too-attractive chest to the audience. “Real! I cut myself!” I said, my voice carrying surprisingly well from the center of the ring. I shot to my feet like the sand was on fire, eager to get out of there. Somehow, I managed to rise right as the knife thrower’s target came back to upright,too. It felt like our gazes collided, but his were still veiled by the black-tinted glasses.

I froze, ensnared without knowing why, trapped in place. He hissed between his teeth, barking at his assistant to untie him.He seemedupset, maybeeven angry with the assistant, but I couldn’t make my feet move. As soon as his hand was free, I knew he’d do something Itruly wouldn’t be able to escape.And yet,I still didn’t move.

His hand was warm and rough when it closed around my wrist. Then he raised it to his mouth,and warmth closed around my sore finger. My belly swooped, then dropped, my abdomen clenching tightly. It was the closest I’d ever come to orgasming from a single touch—in front of an audience,no less. The tilt of his mouth as he released my finger told me he knew exactly what he’d done. Still,I did not walk away. I shouldhave, but I was caught in his spell now, and I didn’t wanttoleave.

Chapter 3??

Halvard

It was her. Damn it, Sally was right. How could she be right? I didn’t deserve this. I was cursed; my talents had turned sour years ago, weighing me down rather than empowering me. I could not have a woman—I did not deserve a mate—when every minute in my presence risked turning her to stone. She had already proven to be particularly sensitive to my gaze. I had turned her to stone evenimy tinted, enchanted lenses. She had returned to flesh and blood quickly, but I had seen the moment she froze in place.

Then I’d done the stupidest thing I might haveeverdone in my entire life: succumbedto temptation. She had pricked her finger on one of Nakusha’s knives, right there at the bottom of the knife-throwing wheel. I’d grabbed her slender wrist by instinct and brought that bloody finger to my mouth. Our fates were sealed now;my beastly side had her taste, her scent. I could never let her go, and when I risked one last look intoher wide brown eyes, I knew she didn’t want me to.

I stepped away from the knife-throwing wheel, puttingthat part of my act behind meas thoughit hadn’t happened. I was in control now, directingmy still-stunned woman to the center of the ring and announcingto the crowd what I was going to do next. There was no way I could bring myself to turn her to stone again;that was so inherently wrong that I didn’t want to risk it. Once was enough, and I countedmyself lucky that she didn’t look terrified but stunned and enthralled instead. “Another volunteer!One who isn’t afraid of a little magic.I need a strong man who thinks he can resist the power of my gaze. Who here thinks he can avert my magic and refuse to turn to stone?”

As always, there were plenty of eager men willing to test their mettle—men who thought they saw through the tricks of this carnival, who thought they could resist the magic and shadow that clung to everything like a second skin. I picked three specimens:men from all walks of life. A bodybuilder, because it always looked extra dramatic when even someone as strong as that could not lift so much as a finger. A man in a suit,because everyone liked to see the rich humiliated. Lastly,I picked an average Joe to make sure that every single man in that audience could identify with what they were about to see.

My woman,with her lovely freckles,stood next to me.Aflushof red colored her cheeks, her kneesshook, and I had to keep hold of her slender wrist or she’d bolt. I savored the silkiness of her skin and the rapid pounding of her pulse beneath my thumb as I made these men line up in front of me. Then it was time for the final part of my act. I braced myself because this was always the unpleasant part—unpleasant only because I could no longer control it the way I used to. “Look into my eyes and resist my magic,” I drawled dramatically.Then I lowered my ensorcelled sunglasses and stared each male in the eye, one by one. “My lovely assistant will now try to move each of them. Go on,” I said to my woman, and finally,I let my fingers slip from her wrist.

She was beginning to turn pale rather than flushed pink from her awkwardnessinthe spotlight.Still,she performed her task exactly as she should, touching each man by the arm and trying to move them. When that didn’t work,I suggested our strong man give it a go.Boris lumbered out of the back to give the stone-turned men a good but very useless shake. My ability to freeze them had given each male a gray cast to their skin, but their eyes were wide and panicked in their faces. They saw and heard everything, but they could neitherbreathenor feel the pounding of their hearts.In this state,they did neither—it was a form of suspended animation.

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