Page 2 of Slay Me

I pull down the half-skull mask I wear over my nose and mouth to take a deep, uninhibited breath. “Thanks.”

“You are always magnificent, Liv,” Apollo offers. His charming smile would have been disarming if I weren’t distrusting of anyone with a pulse. His tanned skin is stretched taut over solid muscle, making him a delectable sight to behold, nonetheless. A true hero in the eyes of all who see him.

All but me. Because I don’t believe in heroes. Villains? Abso-fucking-lutely. They’re all I believe in.

“You, too.” I clap my hands together. “I am desperate for a drink.”

Uma moves out of the way, remaining where she is to help with the next show. Apollo, however, follows me down the metal balcony and toward stairs leading to the performer-only section of the tent.

Bright lights shine above as everyone hustles around. Some prepare for their upcoming shows. Others are putting items away and getting ready for the final bow. The moment I think it, my stomach churns. It’s the closest I ever am to the Ringmaster.

Even in private, he keeps his distance. Only watching me from his desk.

“Water?” Apollo hands me a cup.

I take it with a smile then drink the cool liquid. But as usual, it doesn’t touch the heat burning inside of me. His hand goes to my lower back, and I inwardly cringe as I allow him to guide me over to a rundown couch in the corner. I don’t mind being touched during our performance, but here in private, it feels more intimate.

Personal.

Using a drink to mask my hesitation, I let him take his seat first before joining him. Otherwise, he’ll end up so close our thighs will be brushing. And, well, I have no intention of allowing him to think there is ever a chance of us engaging in anything more than what happens in that ring.

Still, he slings an arm over the back of the couch, the tips of his fingers grazing my bare shoulder. I fight a shiver, not wanting to cause conflict with the creature I hope will one day fly me the hell out of this place for good. Leaving without help—that’s just not going to happen. Even if I escape the Ringmaster, Ernesto’s men are still looking for me. Waiting for any opportunity to grab me. This time for good.

So, I play nice. Biding my time until I trust him enough to ask him to flee. Asking him sooner than that will be a death sentence.

“Felt good to be out there today. Even after what happened with Pima.”

I grunt in agreement, the images of our murdered friend too much to deal with. Not that he’s the first who’s tried to run. It’s always the same outcome. The Ringmaster’s security detail drags them back in, and the three lion shifters make an example out of the one who attempted to run.

You get no second chances. No do-overs. One weak moment and you pay for it with your life. After all, that is what we signed over when the Ringmaster brought us in. At least, those of us who were lucky enough to have even half a choice.

Apollo was sold to the Ringmaster by his old house leader. While I never met Mathis, the gryffin has told us all plenty about the shifter who ran Fire and Fluorite. How his selfishness was only outweighed by his brutality.

Once word of his death reached us here, I’m fairly certain Apollo expected someone to show up and barter for his release. When that day didn’t come, he grew more agitated until two months ago when a fight with the Ringmaster nearly led to his death.

He’d been barely breathing by the time I found him.

Would have been dead had I not.

All because he questioned the Ringmaster.

“I’d get your arm away from the favored pet,” Valentina all but sings. Her sparkly pink wings flutter quickly behind her as she floats above the floor. The pixie despises me, something she has never tried to hide. She’s been here longer than me and, from what I understand, was in the process of seeking favor with the Ringmaster so she could buy her freedom back with the one thing she has to offer: her body.

When I was brought in, though, that changed. The private performances began, and the pixie was pushed aside. Honestly, I’m fairly certain she spent the first year I was here trying to kill me. After all, one can only have their lyra fall from its suspensions so many times in the first week before suspicions are raised.

“Shut the fuck up, Val,” Apollo snaps back at her.

“Fuck off,” she replies, sticking her middle finger up in the air.

“Is that an invitation?” he asks. “Because I have to warn you, my beast does not take kindly to prissy bitches. I’ll fucking ruin you.”

“Funny since you are one,” she replies sweetly.

Shaking my head, I tune them out and close my eyes. The constant bickering is too much to deal with, especially when I know there is so much worse out there. Creatures far more terrifying than the man who runs this twisted-ass circus.

“Get your thong out of your ass crack, Val.”

I open my eyes as Fiona drops onto the chair across from me. Her ice blue eyes level on the pixie. White hair braided away from her face, she looks nothing like the savage I know she is. One of the only known female berserkers, she’s rare. Important. And a hell of a lot stronger than anyone here.

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