Page 8 of Ringmaster
“I never know when I’ll run into you, Mercy,” I confess quietly. “I’ll never let you down. Even if we’re not as close as we used to be, you’re still my friend. I’ll always be here for you.”
Her face flushes, and butterflies stir within me, making the shadows at my feet swirl.
“Let me walk you home,” I say, offering my arm with a smoldering smile meant only for her.
“Okay,” she stammers, “but not the whole way. My father—”
“I know,” I say, brushing away her guilt.
I knew she wouldn’t turn me down. She can’t resist my presence. And even though I know I shouldn’t, I selfishly want to spend a few more minutes with her—before I return to offer the prize in my pocket to the Ringmaster and Lucifer.
Mercy falls into step beside me. I pull her closer, arm wrapped around her waist, shadows cloaking us from the peering eyes of those who might tell her father. A peaceful thrum of magic settles in the air—as if, for a moment, all is right again.
Chapter 5
Mercy
Shadows streak across my ceiling, stretching long and sharp like claws, forcing my eyes open. It’s late, and I should be sleeping, but I’m restless. My body won’t let me forget everything that happened tonight. I keep replaying it over in my head, analyzing every wrong decision.
What if Azrael hadn’t been there? A spine-tingling chill runs down my body. There’s no way that man wasn’t going to hurt me. I blink back the tears stinging my eyes. I need to be more careful. A lump of regret settles thick in my throat. It’s not safe on the streets at dusk. I knew better, and still, I refused to let my cousin walk me home. How could I be so reckless?
“I promise to be more careful,” I whisper to myself.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I try once more to fall asleep. I picture Azrael and the devastated look on his face when I walked away from him tonight. We both knew we couldn’t risk being seentogether—not with the time of day aligning perfectly with my father’s return from work.
Azrael’s blue eyes glittered beneath the faint flickering glow of the streetlights as he watched me go, filled with nothing but regret. His usual smile was gone, replaced by a grim expression. His lips pressed tight, jaw set, and eyebrows knit with concern.
Sighing, I roll over, pulling the worn quilt with me, rubbing it across my cheek in a slow, soothing motion. My thoughts turn fuzzy, blurring at the edges. I can’t tell when remembering becomes dreaming, but soon enough I’m back in the alley, and everything feels exactly the same.
My heart slams against my ribs. Each breath I suck in is ragged. I’m paralyzed with fear. No matter how hard I try to force myself to move, my body is frozen in place, my feet refusing to obey. But then I hear his voice—deep, husky, but most of all, safe. The familiar way he says my name makes my body tremble. When I turn, our eyes meet. Time stutters and slows as I catalog his reaction. I beg him with my fear-laced eyes to do something, anything, to get me out of this situation. A flash of panic crosses his face for only a moment before he’s yelling for me to come to him.
This time, when I run, things are different. Icy fingers clamp around my arm, yanking me back, preventing me from reaching Azrael. I try to scream, but nothing comes out.
He races for me, his hand outstretched. But it’s too late. I feel the stinging prick of something sharp against my neck—and then the darkness swallows me.
Bolting upright, I sit straight up in my bed, covered in sweat, gulping down air as I try to calm my nerves.It was only a dream,I try to reason with myself. Slowly, my breathing evens. I flip my pillow over and press the cold side against my cheek, hoping to send the nightmares away.
When I swallow, my neck stings. My fingers stop on a shallow cut just below my jaw. I don’t remember that being there earlier. Brushing it off, I close my eyes again, beckoning sleep to come for me. It doesn’t—until exhaustion wins, tugging me under.
The second dream doesn’t slam into me like the first. It creeps in slowly, frame by frame. I don’t know where I am. I’ve never been here before. The room is dark, lit only by the flicker of tall pillar candles of uneven length. More dancing candlelight lines the edges of the room, and as my eyes gradually adjust, I can make out faces. People. My mother sits huddled with my uncle and cousins. They’re all crying. Tears run down their faces in unrelenting streaks. A sob escapes my mother’s chest as she falls into my uncle’s shoulder.
“Mama,” I shout, but she doesn’t hear me.
Why are they crying?
“Miriam,” I whisper, trying to catch my cousin’s attention, but she doesn’t even glance my way.
“What’s wrong?” I yell, jumping to my feet. No one acknowledges me.
Frustrated, I wave my hands in front of them. Still nothing. Miriam clutches a beautiful bouquet of roses. Her fingers trace the petals while tears splash against them.
Giving up, I squint, scanning the dim room. That’s when I spot him—and my heart stops. Azrael is here. Hiding in the corner, blending into the shadows. He’s not crying. He wears a solemn expression, but there’s something more to it. Like he knows something nobody else does. He twirls a golden marigold between his fingers, and I start to walk to him.
He pushes off the wall, still shrouded in shadows, as if he’s coming to meet me halfway. I reach up to wrap my arms around his neck—
But he passes right through me.
“Azrael!” I scream, spinning to follow him.
