Page 49 of Ringmaster
My fingers fumble over the stiff-bristled brush I use for scrubbing the floors. Wrapping around it, I drop to my knees again, and begin cleaning the trail of dirt I tracked in a few moments ago. I train my eyes on the mud, focusing on every detail. How it smells. The patterns it created. The way the soap bubbles swirl, mixing into an even bigger mess before fading.
I scrub and scrub—until my fingers go numb. Until my arms shake. I’ve been working the same spot for… who knows how long. But I don’t stop. Ican’t stop. Because if I stop scrubbing, I’ll see his face again. I’ll wonder what Azrael did. And worse—I’ll feel the guilt for what I’ve turned him into, consuming me from the inside out.
Chapter 28
Azrael
Today is not his lucky day, I think, spinning around to face the man who dared heckle us. Howdarehe step foot in the orchard. Who does he think he is, stopping me from doing whatever I damn well please with Jacob’s daughter? Jacob’s allowed far worse for his own gain. My shadows broil, filled with rage as they slither for him. If I find out, this man is one of the shitbags who put his hands on my mate—
My shadows converge behind him, forming a wall so thick he can’t escape. From the other side, no one can see what’s happening. Cracking my neck, a snarl erupts low in my throat. He will pay for touching her. Every single one of them will, including her piece-of-shit-father.
“It’s going to be your last day,” I whisper.
“Wha–what are you?” the man stutters, taking a shaky step away from me.
He doesn’t yet realize there’s no escape from a monster like me. My job is to keep the balance. I’m free to feed on things far less evil than him. He made his choice, and for that he’ll pay. But first, I’m going to play with my food.
My smile turns sinister as my lips peel back to reveal gleaming white, razor-sharp teeth. The familiar coldness creeps through me, and I can sense the flicker of my eyes from blue to coal black.
“F-f-freak!” the man rasps in a panic.
He trips, falling to the ground, scooting backward, crushing into the wall of shadows as I take one slow step after another in his direction. Dread coils and collects in each of my movements. The predatory muscles hiding beneath my skin tighten in anticipation of the hunt.
When I’m close enough, I lunge for him, knocking his head into the ground with a thud. No hesitation. No restraint. I attack, biting into his jugular like a wild animal. Ripping, tearing, ravaging. His body seizes, spasms, and eventually goes limp beneath me. I drain him of every last drop, fighting the urge to rip him to shreds.
The worst part isn’t that I enjoyed it—it’s that I needed it. My lack of control may have caused me to snap, but the hunger was real. I’ve been distracted for too long, and trying to hide my inner monster has cost me. Licking my lips, I savor the tangy taste of this man’s soul. He was downright wicked, which always makes them that much more satisfying.
Once my anger subsides and I’ve fully consumed him, I sit back on my heels, wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and search for something I can use to clean up the remnants. There’s a wooden box used for picking apples discarded near the roots of a crooked tree. It’s big enough it just might work. I retrieve the crate and, though the wood is old and weathered, I stuff the body inside. It creaks under the weight. A few shadows linger to patch the leaking blood, eager to help or maybe just hungry for scraps.
Time to bring Marblas a little snack before my day of hunting truly begins. The shadows continue to ebb and flow, keeping me hidden as I stealthily slink back to the circus grounds. I keep to the alleys, package in tow, and no one is the wiser.
As I cross the threshold onto the magical circus grounds, tendrils of magic weave around me, mixing with my shadows to welcome me back to where I belong. I bask in the familiar energy as it fills me, leaving me renewed and even more savage now that I’ve feasted.
Marblas stirs, grumbling as I enter the barn. “Hey,” I whisper calmly. “I brought you something.”
I lift the crate up to my chest, shaking it back and forth to show him. He scents the death before I open the box. He stares at me, eyes glinting, tail flicking, and for a second, I see myself in him—starving, savage, waiting to be unleashed.
“I know. My temper got the best of me, but he had it coming. I owed you anyway. Trust me, better him than someone else. He deserved it.”
I take a few steps toward Marblas’s stall, dropping the box in front of the gate to open it. The big cat yawns, allowing his long pink tongue to curl out in a taunt. I slide the lock out of place and heave the large piece of wood acting as a latch to one side. The door is barely open when Marblas bolts to the box, nosing it open.
“Not yet, you overgrown beast. Let me get it in on the hay so we don’t make a mess,” I tease.
Hurry up, I’m hungry. He answers.Mercy used more magic than you realized. It took a lot out of me to restore her. If you take too long, I might be tempted to take a bite out of you.His tongue darts out to lick his lips.
I haul the gory crate into the stall, placing it on the hay while Marblas glares from the opposite edge. Once I’m out, he strolls over, eagerly dipping his giant head into the box to explore his spoils.
It’s not long before the sound of crunching bones, gnawing, and slurping fill the air as Marblas devours his treat. The sound is more unnerving than usual—probably because I just killed for sport and tossed the leftovers to my pet lion like nothing actually happened. I snapped back in the orchard. I usually have more control over my emotions.
“Marblas,” I whisper, more to myself than to him. “I can’t get her out of my head.” My hand runs through my hair. “The guilt I feel for trapping her into this life without a choice is eating me alive. I think I’ve sealed my fate and failed to break the curse.” I punchthe wall.Self-doubt crashes over me, threatening to drown me. “It’d be so much easier if I knew what the curse was and how to break it.”
He doesn’t reply. We sit in silence—me alone with my thoughts, and him continuing his meal. My shoulders slump forward as I draw my legs in to rest my head against my knees.I truly am a monster. I took her free will.There’s no hope for me. No hope for hell. And no way to break this infuriating curse.
“She doesn’t even know I care for her,” I confess.
I wish I could change the way today ended. If I could go back to the moment we were sharing in the orchard, I would do it all differently—starting with a confession. I’ve hesitated every time Mercy searched me for a hint, too afraid to say what I feel. She deserves to know how much I care for her—how much I’ve always cared.
I’ve never believed I was worthy of her love, and still don’t. But we’re bound, one way or another. It may not be a mating bond—yet—but I own her for eternity.
