Page 48 of The Failed Audition

“Because I love it,” I say like there is no other option. In my bones, there isn’t. I feel like I’m fighting for my happiness. And no one else can sense it or see it but me.

“You’re cursed then,” he tells me. “There are people with far greater talent, who don’t love it the way that you do.”

The weight of his statement sinks in.

That’s just life, my dad would say. People will always be better than you. Whether they enjoy it or not isn’t a factor. It’s superfluous.

“Do you love it?” I ask him.

His eyes fall as he contemplates this. “Not as much as I used to. But the circus is my only love.”

“What about your family?” I think of Katya and Luka and Timo. I can tell—just by the way he protects them—that there’s a tremendous amount of love there.

He smiles. “Circus is family.”

The sentiment washes over me, a second wave of chills. Not even a second later, the bartender pushes more vodka shots towards us. Timo knows him, so he’s been supplying us freedrinks all night. I pick up a shot since my sunrise is almost empty.

“To finding your sister,” I tell Nikolai.

He raises his shot. “No,” he says, “to your first week in Vegas.”

My heart clenches. He remembered why I stopped by The Red Death to see Camila. I sway a bit, and the overflowing shot spills on my fingers. Fantastic. I try to peel the soggy napkin from the bar.

Then Nikolai smoothly takes my hand. And he sucks the vodka off my fingers.

I freeze as his eyes flit up to mine, while his lips warm my skin. Sex pops back in my brain. Especially as his tongue works with skill.

When he finishes, he even sips a little from the rim of my glass, so I won’t spill more on myself.

This happens in maybe less than fifteen seconds. It felt like eternity. He clinks his glass back to mine. I haven’t unfrozen yet.He wants to have sex.No, he doesn’t. He downs the shot, and his eyes flit to my boobs.Yes he does.

“What are your plans?” he asks, out of the blue. Or maybe it’s been on his mind instead of sex. I can’t tell anymore.

“To practice every day before work at Phantom, audition for any openings that come up,” I say with a satisfied nod. I like this plan. It seems solid.

He tenses more. If the alcohol is doing anything, it’s making him evenmoretouchy-feely than he already is. His large hand stays firm on my legs. But he’s still rigid, commanding. All masculine and man. What anyone would expect of a lead male in a show about love.

He checks on his brother with a quick glance before focusing one-hundred percent on me. “It’s unlikely that Amour will ever have another opening. What happened with my old partner…it’srare.” He hasn’t ever mentioned Tatyana before now. I can tell it’s a sore subject, so I won’t surface it any more than he has.

“There are other shows besides Amour,” I say. “There’s Infini and Viva. Seraphine is traveling, but they’ll be in Los Angeles around May. Plus there are other troupes if Aerial Ethereal isn’t hiring.”

The charm drains from his features, leaving gunmetal eyes with no shine. “High Flyers Company isn’t safe, Thora. They hire riggers as contract employees, pay them close to nothing, and give themdaysto learn how to harness artists before beginning shows.”

“I think I’ll be alright in my discipline.” Riggers sometimes have an artist’s life in their hands since they fasten harnesses and work the wires.

“Aerial silk,” he guesses my discipline right. “But if you’re in group acts with intricate choreography and a new apparatus thatneedsa harness, you’ll be asked to wear one. You’re risking your life with High Flyers, so please be smart and don’t even entertain them.”

“Emblem & Fitz Circus,” I say, one that’s based in London. High Flyers is AE’s direct competition, since Emblem is known for their carnival shows. Elephants. A ring leader.

“That can’t be the circus you’ve fallen in love with if you’re here,” he says. “It’s apples and oranges.”

“So what do you suggest I do?” I ask, about to retract my legs from his lap, but he holds tighter.

“I’ll train you.”

My lips part. “What?”

“I want to train you.”

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