Watching it, anyway. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about performing with them.
In fact, I was almost certain I’d ruin the show tomorrow. I wasn’t trained, I had no idea what I was doing, and I had a feeling I would mess up their carefully curated perfection.
They made it look so easy.
After the opening number, the performers cleared out, leaving the arena empty except for Hallow, who stood on a raised platform off to the right. Once again, Bobbitt snapped to attention, her eyes laser-focused on the ringleader. With a cane in their hands and top hat pulled low, Hallow radiated mystery. They might not have been very approachable in person, but their stage presence was unmatched.
It made complete sense why they were in charge of this knotty attraction.
“Are you ready to feel your heart pound out of your chest?” they asked, their voice washing over the empty seats and reaching up to the nosebleeds. “To have adrenaline burn through your veins, to cling to the edge of your seat?”
Yes, yes, yes.I was ready.
I was captivated, at the mercy of the circus. Locked in, waiting for more.
As Hallow spoke, several things happened in the darkness behind them. At one end of the arena, something massive and inflatable began to swell, reaching skyward. At the other end, a giant sphere was being wheeled out, but it was difficult to look past the ringleader’s demanding presence.
“Then prepare yourself for an alpha who thrives on death-defying acts,” Hallow said, their grin magnified on every screen overhead. “Give it up for Revel and his team!”
In a roar of motors that managed to cut through the music, the group of dirt bike riders sped back out into the arena, circling around the carousel. A few overhead lights popped on, giving us a clearer view of the arena layout, and my eyes jumped to the new additions. The inflatable monstrosity was a giant ramp, with a second, smaller one several yards away. The sphere was a cage on wheels, and seeing it made my chest clench.
Motorcycles in a cage.They hadn’t even done anything yet, and I was already finding it hard to breathe.
Apparently, I could handle knife throwing better than motorbikes in confined spaces.
Good to know.
Revel led his fellow stuntmen in another lap around the arena before they took turns launching off the inflatable ramp. They flipped, spun, and tumbled through the air before landing on their target, just to do it all again. I clenched my eyes closed when Revel let go of his handlebars mid-air and flew alone for acouple of seconds. By the time I got up the courage to peek again, he was back in line for another jump.
Next, they filed into the giant metal cage and chased one another, riding inches apart. All the while, my eyes trailed Revel’s braids, unable to look away. He might have hated me—scratch that, hedidhate me—but I couldn’t help but be in awe. He was skilled on a two-wheeled death trap; I’d give him that.
I expected a lull before the next act, a beat for the audience to breathe, but there wasn’t one. As soon as Revel and his bikers did another lap around the arena, they were gone, replaced by a colorful squad of clowns bouncing into view.
They laughed and stumbled as they chased one another around. A guy on stilts pretended to nearly step on everyone else as he stumbled after them, and one unlucky blonde got a pie to the face. It was adorable, and just enough of a distraction that I didn’t notice the familiar knife-throwing target getting dragged out of the shadows.
A maniacal laugh pierced through the hall, making my stomach pitch, and I whipped my head back and forth as the lights dimmed again. I knew what was coming before Hallow even introduced the next act, and icy tendrils crawled through me as my scent match walked out to the middle of the arena.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ARINA
Bobbitt didn't even look up from the balloon she was twisting as Zero stopped next to the giant bullseye.
I, on the other hand, couldn’t stop staring. He was a demented beacon, calling to every part of my soul. No matter how much I wanted to look away, no matter how badly I wanted to ignore him, I couldn't.
I didn’t hate him, but it was close. I had plenty of reasons to. That asshole clown was hellbent on terrifying me until I walked away from the sideshow. He’d tried his best to break me. He’d laughed at my fear. And now, to my surprise—and horror—he was looking in my direction with one of his blades pointed straight at me.
I froze, ice punching through my veins, but I kept my face emotionless.
This was another attempt to scare me, picking me out of an empty stadium. While it was working, causing my heart rate to spike under his malicious gaze, I refused to show it. I’d swallowdown all the fear and unsettling emotions, burying them so deep, they’d never resurface, if it meant not caving to this clown.
Forcing a smile across my face, I wiggled my fingers at him in a little wave and relaxed into my seat. Even from where we sat, I could see his posture stiffen before he turned to take his position in front of the target. With a flick of his wrist, he threw the knife he’d pointed at me at the target.
It struck dead center.
At the sight, the blood drained from my face, but I still tried to look indifferent.
It’ll piss him off more knowing he can’t get to me.
