by Liz Long
“Nothing, really. Don’t worry, it’s not that you’re not annoyed enough.” He smiled at me. “After all the therapy and tricks I learned, it’s easy to block out one or two people. It’s larger groups. I told you, I went to rehab for a year. The people there don’t joke around about how to control your gift. I could really only affect your emotions if I actually let myself.”
“Would you?”
“Rehab taught me that if I do that, it really isn’t fair to you. I should act like a human being and let you tell me how you feel. I shouldn’t be that selfish, or rude for that matter. But to answer your question, I would if you asked me, or needed me to.”
“In what situation would I ever need you to screw with my emotions?”
He shrugged. “You never know.”
“Do you ever worry you’re going to revert back to how you acted before?”
“Not really. I’ve had it under control for a few years now. It’s similar to how some people grow up—during their teenage years, they’re hellions, whereas they grow up as years pass. But when you’re gifted, your rebellion is usually more than sneaking out of the house at night or ignoring a curfew. Even if you have a passive gift, you do stupid things. Anyone’s at risk to go bad and hurt someone.”
“I disagree.”
“Well, there’s a shock,” he said with a roll of his eyes.
“A lot of people have reservations about Firestarters, but I never acted crazy.”
“You’re a girl. There aren’t that many Firestarters out there that are female, so you may be wired a little differently. Girls are supposed to think differently from us, right?”
I rolled my eyes back. “I think I have as equal a playing field as Nikolas does when it comes to controlling emotions. We both have tempers and he’s got a great offense in a fight.”
“You’re wrong. Nikolas can’t control his emotions well. Neither can Keegan, for that matter. They’re testosterone-fueled and it will always be different from how you react to situations. You’ll try to be rational about problems, think the situation to death. Nikolas will go in, guns blazing every time; he’ll always throw fireballs. He can’t focus enough to hold back, throw only heat waves, or prevent injury. Prime example being his blowing up that car the other night.”
“Well, that doesn’t necessarily make me better than either of them.”
“Absolutely it does. It means you’re less likely to burn the bar down in a fight or seek revenge against someone.”
“Nikolas wants revenge?”
“Well, yeah, on Marty’s killer, dummy.”
“That’s no different than what I’m doing then! I’m looking for the killer for revenge.”
“No, you’re not. You’re seeking justice because you want your name cleared. You don’t want to kill anyone. Nikolas wants to manhandle whoever murdered Marty. There’s a huge difference.” He sounded so casual about the whole thing.
“Whatever. That still doesn’t make me better than them,” I grumbled. I pulled my knees up to my chest.
“It’s certainly smarter. Besides, Keegan admitted you were better than him the first night at the bar. Everyone there knew it.”
“That’s because Keegan can’t do a few tricks that I’ve learned,” I started my defense, but as usual, Gabriel interrupted me.
“And he’ll never be able to. He doesn’t have the patience or focus to do what you do. You both have talent, but you’ve honed yours into usable skills. Wonder Boy is okay, but he likes to blow things up and make a giant spectacle out of everything. He only wants the fun part of the job. He has no motivation to learn more than really neat tricks. Yours are powerful.”
“You know nothing about Keegan,” I said.
“Neither do you,” he pointed out. “And don’t try to backtrack; you just said a minute ago that we’ve hardly been here long enough to get to know other people very well.”
I sighed and put my head on my knees. “It’s like talking in circles with you. Just once I’d like the conversation to move forward rather than around. Like how do you know how I’m good at anything?”
“I saw you on our first day, in the field with everyone. I caught a strong wave of frustration and I walked over to see you all arguing. Then I saw you knock everyone over. And that night, everyone on the lot saw the fireball up in the air. The whole camp guessed that was you, too. They’d never seen anyone else do it before, so…”
I grimaced. Whoops—I had no idea everyone had seen that happen.
He reached into his back pocket and pulled a cigarette from its pack. He lit it and took a deep breath in.
“You hold so much in, when you do emote, it’s powerful. You don’t want to believe me, but it’s true. And I have to add, this thing you do with believing in the best in people is absolutely ridiculous.” He blew out smoke.
“I don’t exactly have the checkered past you’ve got going for you, but that doesn’t mean I’m naive. I can’t punish everyone for one person’s actions.”
“It’s foolish to get knocked off your guard right now. You have no idea how complicated our world is; you’re going to learn things you don’t like,” he replied.
I chose to ignore him and stubbornly glared at the dirt in front of our feet.
“Our world isn’t about money,” he continued. “It’s about power, favors. You don’t want to owe too many favors. You already have too much power. I understand wanting to belong. But if we’re right, someone in this troupe you call a family is framing you for murder. Neither of us can guarantee they won’t kill anyone else, either. No one should be completely trusted.”
“Yet here I am, in the middle of the night, sitting in the dark with you!” I snapped. “You keep giving me all this hoopla about not trusting anyone, when you’re the one showing up at my doorstep or poking your head in from the shadows. How can you expect me to trust you when all you do is tell me not to trust anyone? See? Circles!”
My temper skyrocketed and I jumped up before I caught his sleeve on fire. I stood a few feet away from him and cursed him under my breath. I looked over at him, sitting on the stoop as calm as could be, smoking his cigarette.
“If you don’t want me around, say the word.” He didn’t move.
“That’s not what I meant. I can see how your intentions mean well, but in this case it sounds hypocritical. If I listen to your advice, the only person I’d be speaking to is you. And you’re okay and all, but I like other people too.”
“You mean you like Keegan.”
“Yeah, okay, so what? Maybe I do like Keegan in a slightly different way than I like the others, but that’s really none of your business. What is your deal with him?”
“I suppose I think you can do better.”
“What, are you offering?” I rolled my eyes.
“No, but now that you mention it, I know I’m a much better match for you than Keegan could ever be. He’s dull, a total snooze. You’ll be bored with him in a couple months and then where will you be? All your precious friends will take his side when you break his little heart.”
My hands went to my hips in my protest. I didn’t dare consider if that would be true and instead tried to turn it back to him. “You have no idea what I want or need.”
“Sure I do. You want to belong and you need to be challenged. Keegan can help you belong, but I know I challenge the hell outta you.”
“Challenge might not be the word I’d use, for the record. I don’t know where you get either of those theories from.”
“It’s obvious! You’ve never belonged anywhere. You want nothing more than to be a part of something bigger, I get that. But you’re smart, in the brain and the mouth I might add, and you need someone who can keep up with your wit.”
“I know what you’re trying to do.”
“What am I trying to do?”
“This backhanded flattery. You’re only screwing with me because it’s fun for you. As soon as you get what you want out of me or get bored, you’ll find someone new. That’s
what guys like you do.”
“Guys like me?”
“Gorgeous guys, ones that can get what they want with good looks and a little charm. Guys who can practically undo a chick’s bra with a wink.”
He laughed and smoothly stood up next to me, his head tilting to the side in his arrogance. “That’s a new one. You think I’m gorgeous?”
“Don’t get all cocky. You won’t win any points with me with a smile and compliment.”
“I’ve figured that much out for myself, thanks. That’s kind of why I like you.”
I huffed. “You have a funny way of showing it. I’m really tired of your little games. Could you please let me go to bed now?”
“Sure. I still think you can do better than Keegan. I myself am a huge upgrade.” He grinned as I rolled my eyes at him again. If he kept it up, my eyeballs would be stuck in the back of my head soon. His blonde hair shone in the campers’ porch lights as he walked away.
I needed to sleep. I turned, walked back into the camper and got into bed. A few weeks ago, I would’ve found it hard to believe the chaotic part of the circus was actually outside the center ring.
Chapter 19
That night, the show ran smoothly, but everyone seemed tense and angry…well, more so than usual. I helped as much as anyone would let me, though there were some sneers in my direction. When I bumped into Sheffield, I said as much.
“Yes, well…it appears there’s been a problem,” he replied. He seemed terse, distracted. He didn’t stop glaring around the tent, his mustache twitching. I had to snap myself out of staring at it and focus on the conversation.
“I don’t follow,” I said.
“Knox has gone missing.” Sheffield’s jaw tightened, his teeth gnashing together.
I struggled to keep my jaw from dropping. Another powerfully gifted being just disappeared from our well-protected grounds? How was this even possible?
“Do you have any ideas about what happened to him?”
“Several. None of them are good,” he said. He abruptly nodded and turned on his heel to walk away, leaving me stunned.
After we shut down, everyone went back to the living area to drink and play cards. I realized I’d accidentally left one of Bianca’s dog props in the tent and went to retrieve it. I dropped it off at her front stoop, a few paths away from mine.
I headed back to my trailer. As I got closer, I could hear riotous laughter. I didn’t want to be around many people right this second. I wandered aimlessly for a few minutes, only to find myself back at the Big Top. It loomed over the grounds, dark and silent.
I stuck my head inside. Strings of lights were still on from the show but it was otherwise empty and quiet. I stepped into the shadows and walked to the seats. I couldn’t remember ever being a circus audience member. I had always been backstage, watching Lenny Sullivan shock and awe them. They’d thought he was an Illusionist. I sat down and stretched out. I breathed in the air, still fragrant from popcorn and cotton candy, and felt oddly comforted.
For a moment, I forgot my problems and simply took it in. I looked up to see the high wires where the acrobats thrilled and terrified. The red and white striped tent seemed to stretch upwards for miles. I lowered my gaze. Straight ahead, the ring looked bare and lonely. Even without an audience, it deserved a show.
I stood and walked into the middle of the ring. Once in the center, I felt small but not uncomfortable. Without the show lights, it wasn’t so scary. It probably helped that I had no audience. I took a deep breath and could feel my palms tingle. Maybe I wanted to be here, in the spotlight, at least in this part of the circus. Maybe I did want to make magic.
What the hell, right? I needed to practice. Now was as good a time as any around this place.
I stretched for a quick minute and tried to relax my mind. I had to really focus for crafting more than just a little flame. I looked out into the audience, glad to be in darkness. I put my arms out in front of me as though I were holding a beach ball. Heat skittered over my skin as I pulled two flames in either palm and put my hands together. When I separated them again, a fireball had formed. I gritted my teeth and threw the fireball in the air, high enough so the entire tent momentarily lit up. As it fell, I brought my arms up and it slowed. I bent my elbows and straightened my arms again; the fireball bounced back up as though I had touched it.
When I motioned either way with my hands, the fire could follow my movements. First to the left, then right, then in a full circle around the tent. Sweat formed on my brow, a sign I needed to get to business. Despite my training with the boys, I could still feel the strain on my mind. I straightened my arms above my head and the ball slowed down to finally stop five feet above my head.
My eyebrows furrowed as I put my energy into seeing a shape. My fingers twitched and the fireball slowly grew bigger and bigger. A hole pierced the center and it turned into a giant ring of fire. I finally shaped it, but knew I had reached my limits for the evening. I could throw fireballs all day, but to puppeteer it as I did took more energy, just like the heat waves. I brought my hands together to bring the fireball in for the big finale, but it remained floating like a ring above me. I was too spent for the impressive ending.
My head pounded as I looked hard at my fire ring. For a split second, I remembered reality—specifically, Marty’s charbroiled remains—and I lost my concentration. The ring abruptly dropped hard onto me and I lit up in flames for a moment. Damn. That wasn’t supposed to happen.
Thoughts like this had consumed my every waking moment. I could see now it would’ve been in my best interest to not see Marty’s corpse. If I wasn’t thinking about Keegan (yum), Gabriel (ugh), or being part of the troupe (sigh), I was seeing dead Marty. It was a wonder I slept at all.
I let the flames melt into my body and took a deep breath to center myself. Then I heard someone give a short applause. Jumping a foot in the air, I spun around to see Gabriel. Of course.
“Didn’t realize you were here,” I said as he walked closer to me. I took a slight detour and had a seat in my fake audience. He followed and sat a couple chairs down from me in the same row.
“How did you know I was in here?” I asked him.
“Saw the light jumping around in here. Turns out it was you.”
“Oh. I didn’t mean for anyone to see that.”
“I only caught the last bit. You’re talented.” He withdrew a cigarette and lit it.
“You’re not supposed to smoke in the tent.”
He ignored me. “How long did it take you to control it like that?”
“My whole life. I didn’t get a grasp on it ‘til I was a teenager. Dad put me on lockdown a couple years before he died, but I kept up the practice. I’m still a little shaky without his guidance.”
“What do you mean, lockdown?”
“I have no idea why, but one time Dad came here and when he came home, no more magic tricks. He forbade any firepower without so much as an explanation. I did it behind his back anyways, but without him…it’s hard.”
“See, you do have a good secret, sneaking around with your gift.” He gave me a brief smile. “You seem damn good to me.”
“I’m not there yet. It takes a long time just to control fireballs. My dad could make shapes, move it around faster. That last bit you saw was something I learned only a few months ago, so it’s not as good as it should be. It’s just a ring, which is nothing in the capabilities level. I get tired quicker than he ever did. I don’t want Sheffield to request that piece yet. It’s not as good as it should be.”
“You haven’t really had the chance to go all out in a while, right? I thought it was pretty good. It looked as though you were dancing with it around the ring.”
I laughed a little. “I want it to be perfect. I’ll get the hang of it like I did with the heat wave.”
“What else? Will you falter if I throw a bucket of water on you?” he teased.
“It’ll distract me, sure. As I am now, yes, I would lose control. But it won
’t go out just like that. I can’t set fire in a pool, if that’s what you’re asking. But I will say that my emotions get the best of me once in a while.”
“Meaning what?”
“Well, I just engulfed myself in flames because I split my attention.”
“What made you do that?” he asked.
“Everything. I thought about the last few days for only a second, barely enough time to blink. I thought about Marty and bam, I’m a human fireball. If I’m being an overly dramatic girl, it can backfire. It makes me lose focus and consumes me. Another reason I don’t show much emotion. It takes a lot of concentration to do something with my gift. Any Firestarter can go around setting shit on fire. Those of us who want more learn how to harness and control it.”
“How do you do that?”
“Years of training with a dad who happens to be ridiculously talented, and lots of determination. I don’t really know how to explain it. I suppose most of it’s mental, like so many other gifts. It takes a lot of concentration and I can’t be distracted even a little bit.”
“I know mine is all in here,” he replied, tapping his temple. “It’s different for all Empaths, like you have different skills and abilities with Firestarters. For me, I guess the first part of it is more like seeing an aura. It’s like subtle colors that radiate off a person who is exceptionally emotional. Once I see how strong of an emotion it is, I can manipulate it.”
“I thought Empaths only felt emotion, not warped it in any way.”
“Just like some think Firestarters go around lighting shit on fire for fun,” he shot back. I rolled my eyes.
“I didn’t mean anything by it. I knew you said you could take it from them or whatever. Can you change their emotions?”
“If I try hard enough, sure. No matter what emotion, I can make it stronger or weaker. By making it weaker, I take it away and put it on myself. Empaths are born to handle it. You could see why they would make excellent therapists.”
“When you take away their anger or sadness or whatever, you become that?”
“New Empaths do, yeah. We sort of…absorb it. The first few years are absolutely awful; you feel every little thing and get overloaded. It can drive you mad. We eventually learn how to harness it like you do with fire. Those who become skilled enough can eventually change the emotions on a person or like I’ve said before, take them away to the point of demise.”
