Page 11 of Slay Me

Less than an hour later, with a bag full of fabric, we’re stepping back out into the sun. The Ringmaster has yet to say anything else to me, and while self-preservation dictates I keep my mouth shut, I choose the more dangerous route.

“Frida has a tattoo like mine.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“So no one fucks with her,” he replies as we make our way through the crowd.

“She’s human.”

He stops walking and faces me, crossing his muscled arms. “Do you wish to continue pointing out the obvious, or is there a point to this conversation?”

“I’m just trying to understand why someone who is clearly as powerful as you would protect a human woman?”

The Ringmaster clenches his jaw before he grips my arm with a gloved hand and yanks me into the nearest alley. “Frida is under my protection,” he snarls. “Because, even without magic, she manages to be the only person who possesses fabrics sturdy enough to satisfy my needs.”

“For the performances, you mean?”

“You continue asking me questions.”

“Because you refuse to answer any of them,” I reply.

He studies me closely now, his stare pinning me where I stand. Even if I wanted to look away, the tension between us holds my gaze firmly in place. “Do not think for a second I favor you, Fury. I merely tolerate you because the crowd pays heavily for your performances.”

“Then why the private ones?” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, and I fight the urge to smack myself. Complacency is going to get me killed. And that’s precisely what I’ve become around him: complacent.

“You have a great ass on you,” he replies. “But you’re hardly the only one who does. Keep peppering me with questions that are none of your fucking business, and I’ll replace you.”

* * *

“Hold up.”Fiona holds up her hand from where she sits cross-legged on my bed. “He took you shopping? We all thought you’d tried to escape and he was going to kill you for it.”

“Shopping implies he took me to more than one location,” I tell her. “We went to one store, and the second I tried to be social, he shut my ass right down.” I lie back beside her, closing my eyes. By the time I open them again, she’s staring down at me. “And, besides, if I were going to escape, don’t you think I’d let you know?” A lie, of course, because even though I adore Fiona, there is no way I would drag her into my plan.

Doing so could end with her dead.

“Liv. You ventured out into the world with The Ringmaster.”

“Yes. That’s what I said.”

“Who bought you shiny new fabric so you can make a sexy outfit.”

“Yes,” I repeat.

“Are you sleeping with him? You’d tell me if you were, right?”

“For fuck’s sake, Fiona. I am not sleeping with the ringmaster.”

She waits a beat, crystal gaze boring into me. “And you’d tell me if you were.”

Would I?“Yes. Probably. More than likely.” Groaning, I run my hands over my face. “I don’t understand what’s going on. He watches me perform then sends me on my way. But he likes when I wear unique outfits and takes me to meet his friend Frida, who sells him fabric and keeps him stocked with gloves.”

“Frida. Interesting. Young? Pretty?”

“Adorable,” I tell her. “Though she looks to be nearing ninety and is a human.”

“Hold up.” Fiona crosses her legs, so I sit up to face her. “He’s friends with ahuman?”

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