I joined the crowd in a scream of delight as masked animals prowled from the wings of the club.
Denver was swept away in the arms of a dancing lion. They frolicked and pranced.
When the girls said signing the consent forms was worth it, I agreed. I had no idea the entertainment was interactive at this venue. This was so freaking fun! The girls were right. Work had buried me alive, and I was happy I’d come out to experience this sensation for myself.
A whip cracked through the air.
I stumbled as I tried to spin around to see what the next installment of hedonism brought.
A circus ringmaster, dressed in all black, complete with coattails on the jacket and a top hat on his head, prowled to the center of the dance floor. The rubber mask concealing his features was twisted into a gnarled smile. Slits in the wide, bulging eyes let the man behind the monster see, but it was hard to imagine there was anything human behind the pale, ghastly face.
His whip snaked out, launching into the air. The double crack timed perfectly with the music in an audible tango.
The animals bowed and scraped to his command. Many of the patrons joined them.
The fun reached a new height. A dangerous level. My gut churned. I swiped water from my cheeks, careful to back up so I didn’t slip on the slick surface. Whoever thought the rain special effect was a good idea with drunk people was crazy.
I need to sit down.
My stilettos splashed in a puddle. The slick surface sent me skidding. I threw my arms wide for balance.
Leather coiled over my bare skin, the whip draping over my wrist.
I froze.
The circus master moved with power and dominion, clearly the apex predator in the arena.
I felt the eyes of the crowd fall on me as I became part of the show. The whip slithered up my arm as the length grew longer. The stiff rod reached for me, flicking my hair.
“Every man in this room wants to touch you,” a deep bass murmured.
He spoke low, and with the noise around us, I doubted anyone else could hear. My pulse jumped. Awareness prickled along my skin.
“But you and I both know I’m the only one who actually can.” The circus master stepped behind me.
Heat radiated between us. It would take the smallest of steps to move backwards and collide with the ghoul.
Some instinct of self-preservation made me step forward.
Gloved fingers wrapped around my wrist. With a vicious jerk, I tumbled backward. Strobe lights exploded across the ceiling. The music thrummed against my skin. It was too much—hewas too much!
“Let me go!” I wheezed, tugging my arm.
The circus master spun me around. My chest crashed into his solid mass.
“You think you’re free now?” he growled. “You’re standing in my club, wearing my color, breathing my air.”
As he spoke, he plucked at the straps of my dress.
Black.
A little black dress that I hadn’t worn in years. I drew my gaze up his body, seeing the dark matte against the shiny midnight. Black on black. We matched.
His touch skimmed over my collarbone, lifting the fine chain of gold. The engagement ring dangled between us.
“It offends me that you thought you could wear this here.” His voice was the texture of granite.
I grabbed at the ring he held aloft between us. Suddenly, I knew. Whether he was here in the flesh or my insanity was manifesting in front of me, this was the same devil who’d been messing with me.
