Page 92 of Chaos Carnival

I checked each item methodically: black salt from the Dead Sea, grave dirt from Père Lachaise, three crow feathers, a vial of Maverick's blood, taken while he slept, and a lock of my own hair. All pristine, all thrumming with potential.

With one final adjustment, I added three drops of my current blood to the mixture. The components flared with dark forces, recognizing the arcana now coursing inside me. Everything was ready.

I rose from my cushioned seat, the threads rippling around me like a cloak of living darkness. Each step sent whispers echoing through the ground. The gravel crunched as I made my way across carnival grounds, past the empty ticket booth.

The main tent loomed ahead, its crimson and black stripes stark against the twilight sky. Inside, Lilith's commanding voice cut through the air, directing Vera and Luna through their routine. The Sisters of Shadow had raw talent, but Lilith's ancient knowledge would elevate their act.

I pushed aside the heavy canvas flap. The interior was dim except for a circle of floating witch-lights that cast a luminous blue glow over the practice space. Vera hung suspended from a trapeze, her body contorted at an angle, while Luna wove streams of shadow between her fingers like liquid silk.

Lilith stood below them, her arms crossed, radiating waves of demonic energy that made the air thick and heavy. She turned as I approached, her eyes narrowing at whatever was written in the chords that clung to my skin.

“Finally,” Lilith purred in welcome, her voice carrying a hint of knowing. But she didn’t.

I moved into the familiar pull of the performance space. “The ribbons can pin their shadows, make them more than just illusion.”

Vera and Luna paused their practice, both watching me with a mixture of awe and unease. They'd seen what I'd become, but they'd also seen how I could amplify their abilities.

“Show us,” Luna called down, her voice eager despite her nervousness.

I raised my hands, letting the threads spiral out from my fingers like spider silk catching the light. The streams revealed what was coming—blood staining these grounds, screams piercing the night, dark creatures drawn to our performance like moths to flame.

“You manipulate the strands with perfection,” Lilith observed as I wove intricate patterns through the air. The filaments formed geometric traps, invisible to mortal eyes but ready to ensnare the wicked and corrupt. This power felt natural now, no longer the forbidden temptation it had once been. Lilith traced the lines. “They will need to learn both sides of the magic. Not all can handle the duality.”

“We'll teach them,” I said, weaving another trap. “The light reveals the truth, while darkness delivers justice.”

“You've come so far.” Lilith's voice held genuine pride, though I sensed her careful balance between mentor and supplicant. The demon who once filled me with terror now chose her words with delicate precision.

The strands shimmered between my fingers as we choreographed the fatal performance. To mortal eyes, it would appear as an elegant aerial dance. But each movement would scatter seeds of judgment, weave nets of retribution. They would appeal to corrupted souls while leaving the innocent untouched.

Our hands wove an intricate sequence together—a simple midair spiral that would create a vortex, drawing in those who were stained beyond redemption.

“The descent begins here.” I traced the path through the air. “When the music peaks, the threads will activate.” Every move flickered through my mind.

Quick deaths, slow suffering, justice served.

“The movements are precise.” Lilith demonstrated the spiral disguising a killing blow. “The audience will see only beauty.”

How far I'd come from the girl who believed everyone deserved second chances. But my family needed protection. They were worth wielding powers that made even demons tremble.

“When you see all of existence,” I told Lilith as we refined our dance, “you understand that some lines must be cut. The corrupted chords poison everything they touch.”

The old Tess would have been horrified. But she couldn't see what I now knew. That sometimes the kindest act was a swift end to a greater threat.

I watched the Sisters practice their routines, their graceful movements concealing the bloodthirsty tendrils they wove with each turn. “Higher on the spiral, Vera,” I said.

“The thread must catch where the corruption pools in their souls.” Lilith circled them, critical. “Again. Beauty disguises brutality.”

The Sisters repeated their sequence, bodies twisting like ethereal beings. The strands snapped into perfect alignment, creating an invisible net of venomous magic. “Better,” Lilith approved.

Movement caught my eye. Maverick at the tent entrance, his shadows writhing with anxiety. “I can feel you hovering,” I said, continuing my work.

“Can't a man admire his mate's handiwork?” His charm didn't mask his tension. “Even if said handiwork does involve more murder than expected.”

“Don't pretend violence doesn't get you hard, Maverick.” I tested another thread-trap. “This is who I am now.”

“It's who you've always been.” He moved closer.

I caught the mix of pride, fear, and possessiveness in his gaze. “Having second thoughts?”

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