by Liz Long
GIFTED
A DONOVAN CIRCUS NOVEL
BY
LIZ LONG
Copyright 2012 © Liz Long
All rights reserved.
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this novel are products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of author or publisher.
No part of this book may be reproduced without written permission from the author or publisher.
Formatted by Jo Harrison
Dedication
To Morgan—my cheerleader, my editor, but most importantly, my friend. This book would not be in existence without your help. I very literally don’t know what I’d do without you. To ten years of friendship and fifty more. Thanks for always loving every story I’ve ever been brave enough to show you.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
“Donovan Circus,” a deep voice answered on the third ring.
“Hi. Um…is Sheffield Donovan there?” Knots in my stomach, my grip tightened on the phone. For a brief moment, I worried I would set the receiver on fire by accident.
“Speaking.”
“Sheffield, it’s Lucy Sullivan. When can we arrange a meeting?”
“What does your mother think?”
I stared at the wall, willing my voice not to crack. Heat flushed my skin pink in the effort. “She, uh…she died a couple weeks ago.”
“Shit, I’m sorry, Luce.”
“Can I come by soon?”
There was a brief pause and then: “How’s tomorrow afternoon?”
“I’ll be there at two if that’s okay with you.”
“See you at two o’clock.”
I hung up and stared at the phone. Would it really be that simple to walk back in? Could I even do it without my father there to guide me? Wait—did I just join the circus?
That night, I packed my bags. I didn’t sleep much between the nerves and my brain’s unyielding thought process. I clearly had no idea what lay ahead of me. I was entirely too old to be this nervous, but it was the first time I’d ever really had a chance to do something for myself without my parents there to supervise me. Now that they were gone, I had no other choice but to do it on my own.
The Donovan Circus was known for unusual acts, feats that seemed unlikely for humans. This was truer than we could admit to outsiders: a large group of gifted, those with remarkable powers, showed off their talents night by night, all the while bringing in curious humans who had no idea about us. I wanted to use my gift and be with other people like me. I wanted to be normal amongst the freaks.
The next morning, I headed to where Donovan Circus had settled a day ago. When I saw the tents in the distance, my palms began to sweat; I tried to keep fire from escaping them. As I got closer, I couldn’t even talk myself into a motivational speech. I stared open mouthed at my surroundings, like a guppy in the fish bag at one of the game booths. Donovan Circus was more than a handful of tents; it also had game booths, a few small rides like the pastel carousel, and a large, bright Ferris wheel. The lot wasn’t completely set up yet, but already I could see several people prep the grounds.
Only circus vehicles like loading trucks and clown cars were allowed on the actual grounds. I found the employees’ makeshift parking lot maybe a quarter of a mile from the tents and parked. On a mostly gravel dirt lot, it sat close to a small wooded area. I debated on taking my bags with me, but there was always a chance Sheffield wouldn’t have me. The only thing worse than hearing him deny my participation would be carrying all that shit back to the car, clumsy and defeated.
I tried to hold my head high and prayed my shoulders didn’t do that nervous twitch they sometimes did. The grounds were maze-like and I passed the same game booth at least twice. The tents were red, white, or black, and all made from the same heavy canvas material to prevent weather damage. After getting lost by the animal fences, I managed to stumble upon Sheffield’s office camper. I thought it would be more elaborate, but the only discerning detail from an otherwise everyday trailer was the large brass nameplate across the door that read “Sheffield Donovan.” I looked at my watch: 2:01 p.m. I hated being late. I hurried to knock on the door.
“Come in!”
I walked inside, turned to my left to face Sheffield Donovan. Late fifties, surprisingly fit, with a blonde coif and an impressive handlebar mustache that could easily be featured in a bare-knuckle fistfight, he looked every bit a ringmaster. Were I into older men, I could even describe him as a classic sort of handsome.
He sat behind a large, old desk swallowed up on either side with posters and file cabinets. A shiny black top hat sat by his hand, ready for a hasty exit. His costume—black tuxedo pants, white shirt, gold cummerbund, and red jacket with black trim and tails—hung neatly on the closet door to my right.
“Good afternoon, Sheffield.”
“Hi, Lucy. Have a seat.”
I sat in one of the two battered wooden chairs across from him. He motioned at a coffee pot as he filled his own mug and I shook my head, more worried about wearing the coffee than drinking it. He spoke first.
“I’m so very sorry about your mom. How are you doing?”
“I’ve certainly been better, but thank you.”
“Not to pry, but what happened?”
I looked down to see my hands drumming an incessant rhythm against my knees. I glared at my ripped cuticles, having recently been gnawed off in my stress. I kept my head down as I answered Sheffield.
“She had a pulmonary embolism or something. She was breathing pretty hard in the grocery store and collapsed in the cereal aisle. Died in the ambulance.”
“Jesus, I’m sorry, kid.” He set his mug down on the desk, his gray eyes clouded with sympathy. My fingers drummed faster on my thighs.
“So am I. She wasn’t the same after Dad died, though. So at least they’re together now somewhere.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t been by to see you since your dad’s funeral; I meant to come by and time slipped away from us.”
I shrugged. “You’ve got a business to run, I understand that.”
“I’m glad you called. I’ve wanted you back here for a long time.”
“There’s not much else left for me out in the human world. I always figured I’d make my way back.”
“Lenny was one of my best friends. I should’ve looked out for you more. I was glad to hear from you.”
“The only reason I didn’t say yes right away to your offer
at the funeral was my mom. I couldn’t leave her alone so soon, but I knew I’d take you up on it eventually.”
“We’re lucky to have you back. You ready?”
“I’m a little nervous, but I’ll get over it. I guess a lot has changed since we left.” I shifted a little in my chair.
“In twelve years, yes; I imagine you’ll be in for a few surprises. I have no doubt you’ll handle them fine.”
“Do you think I’ll be able to keep up?” I kept my voice even, refusing to let any fear betray me.
“Kid, I’m more concerned if they can keep up with you. Your dad was an incredible Firestarter, but he always said you could be ten times his talent.” He took a gulp from his coffee mug and chuckled. “You know, he often told me the proudest day of his life was when you set the couch on fire. You were only two and it was a complete accident; you started to cry and then fire came out of your hands. He said your mother almost had a heart attack, but Lenny, he was damned proud.”
I smiled at the memory; my father told that story a lot. I took my chance to ask a question that had bothered me for years. Surely if anyone had the answer, it was Sheffield.
“A few years before he died, he forbade the use of firepower. I guess he told you that?”
He gave a slow nod. “He said he didn’t want either of you to be caught training by humans, to reveal us to them.”
“That’s what he told me, too. We used to find abandoned lots or fields and practice everyday. Then one week, he came here to consult with other Firestarters, went home and put his foot down—no fireballs, no flames, no more training. He practically threw out any lighters in the house. Did something happen here to make him do that?”
Sheffield’s eyes didn’t leave his mug. “He had his reasons, I’m sure. He only worried for you.”
Silence grew between us. Sheffield was hiding something, of course, but he stayed quiet. After a long pause, I cleared my throat.
“Well, just so you’re aware, I didn’t always abide by dad’s rules.”
He looked up at me and the corners of his mouth twitched.
I shrugged. “I knew I’d be back here someday. Can’t let his reputation down, so I had to keep up somehow.”
I gave a calm smile, kept my well-practiced poker face up. I was done with our casual conversation. I wasn’t here to talk about my personal life. He read my expression and after another beat, kicked his feet up on his desk and lit a cigarette. His tone suggested nothing but business.
“Now look, this is gonna be new experiences for you. You were young when you were here last. Do you remember anything about our touring from before?” he asked.
“Not really. I mostly did whatever Dad told me to and played with the other kids.”
“Probably a lot of them are gone now. It’s three weeks of the show, a handful of days for travel and setup, and every few cities we take a two-week break. There are about eighty of us from all over. We travel year round, work hard and stay together. We have very talented folks here, but it’s a young group. Many are still developing their skills and have years of training ahead of them.”
Sheffield talked fast and already I could tell he expected a lot out of his employees.
“Here we prep in the day, open the gates at five sharp, start the performances exactly at seven and are usually done no later than midnight. We’re a bit faster on shutting down the lot than a human group.”
“I understand. I know it’s been a while but I’m ready to be thrown in. I can pick it up. This is where I want to be, if you’ll keep me.”
He nodded as I spoke. His impressive smoke rings enveloped me and the camper became smoky with each exhale as he hammered out his words.
“I wanna give you a chance, but you gotta earn your place around here. Strangers aren’t easily accepted, and I’ve already got four other Firestarters that may not take kindly to the new kid, especially since you’re a girl. No offense, but it’s rare.”
“We all have different levels and talents. I won’t step on any toes.”
“Let’s see how you feel about being here in a few months. You’ve got a lot to deal with right now, so you’ll start out an assistant to everyone else. It’s less pressure on you this way. If you decide later you’re in over your head, you can walk away without any complications. It might not be for you and that’s okay. Stick with it and you’ll move on to something else, if you want. You have any problems or questions yet?”
I shook my head.
“How about with your gift? Are you having any trouble?”
“I get headaches. I get tired quicker than I’d like and if I’m distracted, it’s all over. I’m definitely gonna need the practice. It’s been a while since I gave it my all.”
“Not a problem. The headaches happen to every Firestarter, depending on how much energy you’re using. Train in your free time; I want you in the show. Meet the other Firestarters and study, push yourself more than you’ve ever done. You can do that here now, away from human eyes. As far as the next couple months, you’ll run errands, help out as needed. I had a fireproof costume made for the shows in case we need you on the floor. You need to arrange a fitting today with wardrobe.”
“Wow. You didn’t have to do that for me.”
“Think of it as a uniform—certain people need certain outfits that also work with their gifts. The other Firestarters have them, too.”
“Oh,” I whispered. I felt silly but relieved; I’d die if people thought I got special treatment from the owner and ringmaster.
“Miss Nance in the trailer next to mine is in charge of everything non-show related: payroll, marketing, schedules. She’s helped me run this place since its formation and is damn good at what she does; she’s extremely efficient. It’s only us, no big staff folks to do everything. We don’t need that here. That being said, you go to her for your paycheck; anything else, you come to me.”
I nodded. Our world was a secret and the circus was a great cover. Most gifted beings banded together, though others did join the human world like my family did. Sheffield wouldn’t employ too many outsiders. He wouldn’t jeopardize his gifted clan with distrust.
“I put you with Delia in camper 238. It’s a good match; she’ll help you get around and introduce you to folks. If you’re ready, get your stuff and load in. Got here yesterday, so tents are goin’ up; familiarize yourself with things and it’s opening day tomorrow.”
I jumped up and headed out the door. “Thank you! I’m really excited. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
“You need anything, let me know. Now get outta here and wow your new coworkers,” he said with a wink. He rummaged through his desk as I let myself out and practically skipped back to my car.
Chapter 2
I could hear voices sprinkled between tents and I moved faster; the butterflies in my stomach threatened to morph into small birds. I spotted my car, got my things, and dragged my giant luggage bag across the grass and hay as fast as I could, cursing whenever the suitcase threatened to tip over in my haste. I wanted to find my camper first and retraced my steps to find the living area.
I paused at the neat lines of large mobile units and took a moment to stare. Years of experience helped them settle in fast. Large RVs and trailers sat in neat grids, the pathways clear and rows straight. These were large camping units that stood alone so that it looked like a small park. Chairs and tables, beer bottles and ashtrays already littered the ground. I walked past small clusters of people, walking together or chatting in doorways. No one paid attention to me that I could tell.
I needed to stop staring at everything like a moron and find my trailer. I began to sweat as I walked past the long lines of small campers. I found camper 238 one spot away from an intersecting pathway. The knots in my stomach tightened; should I knock or just walk in? What if Delia was in there?
Self-doubt crept in from the back of my mind. What was I doing? Was I really ready to join the circus? This was probably a crazy spontaneous moment. They
might not like me. They might not think I was that talented, that I only got in on my dad’s reputation or mine and Sheffield’s relationship. Hell, maybe I did.
I took a deep breath, gritted my teeth and knocked. The door opened in what seemed a fraction of a second—before me stood a dark-haired beauty with her hand on her hip.
“Can I help you?” she asked. She had a straight nose, broad chin, very blue eyes, and an accent I couldn’t quite place.
“Um, hi, I’m Lucy Sullivan, your new roommate? Sheffield assigned me here,” I said.
Her statuesque figure broke as she smiled. “Oh! I did not realize you were here today. I thought I had another day to clean up my mess. Sorry about that.” She backed away and as I stepped in, I caught her picking up clothes and other assorted items from my new bed.
“No problem. Thanks for letting me stay with you,” I said. I dropped my suitcase on the now-empty cot. I took a look around—our beds side-by-side, small kitchen with a table for two, and bathroom the size of a closet on the other end. Campers were for sleeping so there wasn’t much need for space, though I did admit it was bigger than I’d anticipated.
“I am excited. I miss having a roommate. The last one up and married to run away to a normal life, whatever that is.” She flitted around the room, talking so fast I had to pay close attention to make sure I didn’t miss something.
“Funny. I thought most people run away to the circus,” I said.
