Page 86 of Chaos Carnival

“Now, for a change of pace,” I continued, my voice a hypnotic purr that made human minds fuzzy. “A tale of danger, daring, and perhaps a touch of death! Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves for the Razor's Edge!”

As the knife throwers took their positions, I caught Lux's eye. He leaned on a support beam, his posture too casual, his gazesharp with shared concern. A subtle gesture sent him melting into shadows to find Stone.

The show continued, each act flowing into the next like blood from a wound. I played my part—the charming ringmaster, the master of ceremonies, the curator of nightmares. I made them laugh, gasp, and scream in carefully measured doses. All while knowing that somewhere out there, my mate was facing real horrors without me.

Between acts, I cornered Gregor, our fire-breather. “Have you seen Tess?” I kept my voice low, though even whispered commands made his pupils dilate.

“Not since set-up, sir.” He wiped soot from his face. “Is she okay?”

“Everything's fine,” I lied, the words tasting like copper. I moved through our performers—the contortionist whose spine could bend like water, the strongman who'd traded his soul for one last kiss. One by one, they gave me variations of the same answer. They'd seen her, but she hadn't been quite real, like a projection of something else.

As the knife throwers finished their act, euphoric laughter rippled through the crowd. They thought the floating blades and impossible accuracy were clever tricks, no idea their entertainment was powered by their own processed terror.

“And now, dear guests,” I commanded their attention with supernatural ease, “a performance so primal, it will awaken the ancient fire in your blood!” My voice carried influence that made their minds wonder. “I give you—Inferno!”

Gregor lumbered onto stage, flames already dancing between his fingers like living things. I slipped into the night where Lux waited, his presence still as death.

“Stone's working on it,” he murmured. “The wards are intact, but there's something else. Old magic. The kind that predates us.”

I nodded, though the implications chilled me. Tess's absence was a wound I couldn’t ignore, the mate bond stretched too far.

Gregor's flames painted the tent in shades of gold and crimson, drawing gasps from the crowd as he performed feats that would have killed a normal human. The audience never suspected his immortal soul was the price of their entertainment.

“Keep looking,” I told Lux, danger bleeding into my voice.

Lux nodded and melted away. I returned to the stage's edge, my showman's smile a mask for the ancient monster stirring beneath my skin.

The big top emptied like a slow drain, humans drunk on macabre forces. Their lingering fear, usually a feast for beings like us, now tasted like prophecy and endings. I stood in the center ring, energy coiling around me like black cats, watching for the air to shimmer or bend.

“Quite a show,” Lilith materialized beside me, wine glass filled with something darker than mere alcohol. “Though your mate's absence rather spoiled the symmetry.” Her smirk held ancient knowledge and newer warnings.

“Not now,” I snarled, the mate bond a constant reminder that Tess was somewhere else. My shadows writhed, darkness incarnate responding to the truth in her words. “If they've hurt her—“

“Oh, darling,” Lilith's laugh held centuries of secrets. “They can't hurt her anymore. She's become something they can’t comprehend.” She paused, red lips curving into a smile.

I turned on her, letting my control slip enough to let out a growl I knew wouldn’t intimidate her. “Either help me find her or get out of my way.”

“Always so linear.” She sighed. “She doesn't need finding.”

Inside our tent, surrounded by tokens of alchemy and protection, I paced like a caged beast. Stone sat unnaturallystill, his demon-bound goat pressing against him as both their forces responded to the wrongness in the air. Lux hadn't stopped moving, his essence crackling with frustration, while Addie perched nearby, sensing things she couldn't yet understand. The mate bond pulled at me like a cosmic string, my chest a cold dearth. She was too far away.

“The wards held,” Stone reported, each word carved from centuries of experience. Eris bleated, her supernatural awareness pricked. “Nothing broke in—but something opened.”

My shadows lashed out, making the lantern flames stutter. “We've checked every ward, questioned every performer, searched every crevice in this place.” Each word tasted like ash and inevitability.

“She won’t stay away forever,” Addie insisted. “She promised.”

I started to respond, but the air abruptly grew dense, pregnant with possibility. A whisper brushed my consciousness, familiar yet different—Tess's voice.

Chapter 39: Terrible Glory

Tess

Imaterializedintheempty field three miles from where Cirque de Sanguine was anchored, far beyond our careful wards. The streams hummed around me, showing me exactly where to stand and which to pull forward. The hunters would arrive in precisely four minutes and thirty-seven seconds.

The night air shimmered with power and potential as I waited. Above, the stars shifted in patterns no one else had ever noticed, while below, the earth flared with ancient forces.

I smiled as the first ripple of seraph essence touched down. They thought they were being stealthy, phasing through darkness and reality.

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