Page 15 of Chaos Carnival

Theearlymorningmistclung to the ground as we approached Ivan's heinous carnival. My muscles still ached from the poison, but having Tess pressed to my side helped dull the pain. We crouched behind a half-built booth, scanning the silent grounds. Even in this hellscape, she was devastating—equal parts dangerous and delicious. The kind of beauty that could make a man forget himself. Forget everything except the need to possess.

Stone touched the fresh bandage under his shirt. Zara's contact had come through last night, though none of us had slept much after. At least now both he and Lux had some protectionagainst stasis. It wasn't much, but we needed every advantage we could get.

“This place reeks. Of brimstone...” I wrinkled my nose. “And cotton candy. Weird combo.”

Tess's hand brushed mine as she peered around the corner. “Ivan always did have questionable taste.” Her breath hitched when a metal beam creaked somewhere in the darkness. Every graceful movement drew my attention—the sway of her hips, the way her chest rose and fell with each careful breath.

The others spread out behind us—Stone and Lux taking the perimeter while Cross and Zara watched our backs. But my focus kept drifting to Tess's warmth, the lingering effects of our moonlight ritual making every contact spark with electricity.

“See anything?” I whispered, leaning close enough that my lips nearly grazed her ear.

She shivered. “No, but those cages...” She pointed to massive iron structures looming in the pre-dawn gloom. “They've got binding runes.”

We crept forward, staying low. The Ferris wheel towered above, its skeletal frame casting prison-bar shadows across our path. Each step had to be calculated—one loose board or kicked stone could give us away.

“Careful.” I caught Tess's elbow as she nearly stumbled on a coiled rope. She steadied herself against my chest, her fingers splaying across my shirt. For a heartbeat, we froze like that, faces inches apart.

“Sorry,” she breathed.

“Don't.” The words came out rougher than intended.

A distant clang snapped us back. We ducked behind a cotton candy machine, pressed together in the narrow space. The metal was cool against my back, but Tess radiated heat.

“You're cold again,” she murmured, concern threading through her voice.

“Side effect of almost dying, I guess.” I tried for levity, but my smirk faltered when her hand found mine in the darkness.

“Don't joke about that.” Her fingers tightened around mine.

The carnival grounds stretched before us like a nightmare wonderland. Tess moved with stealth, and even worried sick about Addie, she was a sight to behold. The shadows played across her curves as she crept forward, her full lips pressed into a determined line. “If you're done mentally undressing me,” she muttered, “there's an actual horror show we need to deal with.”

“Multitasking, monstre. Besides,” I matched her careful pace, “the view helps distract from the whole 'walking into certain doom' thing.”

“Good to know my ass ranks above certain doom on your priority list.”

“Top three, easily. Right after 'keep you alive' and 'murder Ivan.'“

We slipped past a row of game booths, their canvas awnings snapping like teeth in the breeze. Everything smelled of rust and decay beneath the sugary carnival aromas.

“These mirrors look new.” Tess paused at the entrance to a house of mirrors. Her reflection multiplied infinitely, each version more distorted than the last. Something about the way they contorted made my skin crawl.

I pressed close behind her, partly protective, partly because I could. “Careful. Some mirrors trap more than reflections.”

She leaned back slightly, whether seeking comfort or warmth, I wasn't sure. “Don’t I know it,” she said, alluding to our time in a ballroom in the Devil’s Delirium mansion.

“What can I say? Even demon mirrors can't resist this face.”

“Your modesty is truly breathtaking.” But she didn't pull away when my hand settled on her hip to guide her past them.

The performer trailers were next—all empty, though hints of life lingered. A steaming coffee cup. Fresh cigarette butts. Half-eaten breakfast.

“Ivan's not stupid enough to keep her somewhere obvious,” Tess whispered, rifling through papers on a makeup table.

I watched her bend over the desk, admiring the view despite our damnable mission. “No, but I'm enjoying the thorough investigation.”

She straightened and jabbed an elbow at my ribs. “You're incorrigible.”

“You knew that when you let me claim you.”

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