Mab doesn’t even flinch at this. “Let me guess, your kin are hiding like snakes in the grass,” she says.
The man bows, mockingly. “I learned from the best.”
“Vivienne,” Mab says. “Check on Kingston. Make sure this beast hasn’t hurt him.”
I nod, not entirely sure I want to run after him when he clearly didn’t want my help in the first place. But I also have no desire to stay here in the crossfire. Now that Kingston is safe, the fight impulse is dying, the heat in my hands faded to a faint tingle. I turn and head through the crowd, straight toward Kingston’s bunk.
The bunk numbers are barely visible in the darkness, but I finally find 13. Kingston’s. I don’t even knock; I just open the door and step in.
The only light is coming from a green candle on his table. He’s on his bed and barely looks up at me coming in. Then something slams into me, pushes me to the wall. A hand clamps over my mouth.
“Are you?” my assailant asks. “Are you bad man?”
Lilith.
I shake my head, and she steps back.
“Oh. Vivienne.”
Then she steps away. She goes over to the bed and puts one arm around Kingston. That one small action makes my blood boil. I want to protect him, but I can’t tell if that’s protecting him from Senchan or from Lilith’s arm around his waist. He’s mine, something in me hisses, even though I know it’s not true.
“Bad man hurt Kingston,” Lilith whispers. “Hurt him bad.”
“I’m okay,” Kingston says. He looks up at me. There's something in his eyes that tells me his words couldn't be further from the truth. For one thing, I've never heard his voice waver before. The wound is still dripping a smear of blood down his neck. Zal has disappeared from sight. “I’m okay now.”
“What did he do?” I ask. The fire in me builds. I want to kill Senchan for doing this to him, whatever it was. My fists are clenched and I can hear the blood in my ears grow louder. It takes everything I have not to yell at Lilith, to force her out of the trailer so I can take care of him. But I don’t. For some reason, a part of me knows Lilith needs to stay.
“Nothing,” Kingston says. “I mean…I’m not hurt. But he has my magic.” His voice cracks at this.
“What?” The roar grows louder.
“He…when I got here, he ambushed me. And I don’t know how, but he took it.” He holds up his hands in a begging posture. “That’s why I couldn’t enchant the place, couldn’t make it part of Mab’s territory. He stole my powers. It’s all my fault.”
“I’ll kill him.” The words echo in my ears, and that’s when I realize I wasn’t the only one saying them. Lilith is staring at him.
“I’ll get your magic back,” she continues. “Mab be damned, I will kill him for hurting you.” She looks at me, and there’s a fire in her eyes, a literal glow of red and gold that makes me edge further against the wall. Her gaze makes my skin go hot, like standing over the edge of a volcano.
“Vivienne,” she says. Her voice is cinder and ash. “We must kill him. Together. Tonight.”
I’m not a killer. I’m not.
She holds out her hand.
I’m not a killer.
I look at Kingston. The blood still trickling down his neck. The lost look in his eyes. The bloodlust in me hums.
I’m not a killer, but I’d kill for him.
I nod at Lilith. Senchan will pay for this. Senchan will die. I take Lilith’s hand. The world explodes.
Fire and fire and
blood
and fire
scream fire blood fire body burns fire fire
faerie
kill
kill
kill
kill
kill
fire fire fire
fire fire
kill
Senchan
Mab
Lilith walks to Senchan
Poe
Kitty kitty kitty kitty
curls at Mab’s feet.
Poe watches.
Kitty kitty
Lilith walks
fire burns
in her eyes
two coal eyes brimstone sulfur burning
Lilith walks
past
the troupe
Senchan stops talking.
Lilith. Get back inside, sweetie. Mab says.
Please.
Lilith walks to Senchan.
You hurt him.
You hurt Kingston.
Fire burns fire blood
fire blood faerie fire fair faerie blood
Yes.
Senchan says. I hurt him.
And I will keep
hurting
everyone
you love.
Until you come with me.
Or until this show is in flames.
Lilith, please. Get back inside. Mab says.
No.
Lilith.
Let her play. Senchan says.
Let her see
what happens
when those she loves get hurt.
Senchan reaches
down
He picks up Poe.
Poe hisses
growls
spits
Senchan holds the cat
by one leg
with one hand
the other
Don’t —
Don’t —
s n a p s
the cat’s leg
in
half
Lilith
burns
fire fire fire fire
fire breathes fire eats fire fire screams fire fire
fire howls fire fire burning fire
blood and flame
Senchan screams
fair faerie blood
on fire
Senchan burning
fire flaming blood
Lilith, stop!
Fire fields
fire burn corn burn
smoke burning faeries burning
Lilith on fire
eyes bright
blood in darkness
fields burning
Lilith burns
everything
burns.
“Vivienne, please, wake up.
wake up.
wake up.”
Chapter Thirteen: Amnesia
If I wasn’t one hundred percent certain we didn’t have animals in our show, I would have blamed the elephants for trampling over my head. There’s no other explanation for the pounding in my temples and the fact that every joint in my body feels like I’d been sent to boot camp. I roll over in bed, and try to visualize happy, healing light spreading all over me, easing away the pain. Then someone puts a hand on my forehead, and that’s exactly what happens.
My eyes flicker open. There’s Kingston, leaning over me, a sad smile on his face. No sign of tears or blood, just his usual shadow of stubble and a tiredness in his eyes. I wish I could kiss his exhaustion away.
“You got your magic back,” I mumble. His touch is ice water over flame, the perfect dose of Vicodin.
“What do you mean?” he asks. He pulls his hand back and the sensation goes away, though now the pain isn’t as bad.
“Last night,” I say. I try to think back, but it’s mostly a blur. I just remember him in the trailer and Senchan and Mab in the headlights. Something about Lilith…a flash of pain makes me wince. I close my eyes and burrow my face into the pillow.
“What about last night?” he asks. His words are slow. Deliberate.
“You were hurt,” I mumble, leaning my head to the side. It feels like trying to string together a dream from two weeks ago. I know it’s there, but I can’t bring it up. “After…after the guy from the Summer Court took you. You said he took your magic.” It even sounds stupid once I say it.
He takes a deep breath but doesn’t speak.
“What?” I say. Maybe I’m still asleep. Maybe that’s why everything’s slurring together in my brain.
“You really don’t remember?” he asks.
“Remember what?” The memories are swirling along with the trailer now. The last thing I want to do is try to remember anything but the solidity of this bed.
“Last night…gods, I can’t believe this.” Another deep breath on his part, and I look up in time to see him press his face into his palms, like he’s about to deliver a death sentence. “You passed out last night.”
“I figured,” I mumble, trying to motion to the bed but failing. Even thinking of moving a limb hurts. “But I saw….”
“Honey,” he says, and he reaches down to pull the covers off me. Honey. The word makes me melt. “You nearly died last night.” I look down to where he’s pointing. There, on my calf, are two red scabs, the skin around them puffy and pink. “You were bitten by a rattlesnake a few minutes after getting out of the truck.”
“But the Summer Court guy. Senchan.”
He pulls the covers back over my leg and gives me a no-nonsense sort of stare.
“Who’s Senchan? You must have hallucinated. You got out of the truck and were bitten by a rattlesnake. Then you started convulsing and passed out. Everyone saw it.” There’s a finality to his words that make the room stop spinning. Only I know that’s not what happened. I think I know that’s not what happened… Right?
“But...” My thoughts are racing, burning like wildfire. “The fire. Lilith.” My head throbs. “Lilith set everything on fire.”
“Lilith’s just a little girl,” Kingston says. “I’m the only one with any real magic in this troupe. There was a fire, yes. But that was the bonfire the Shifters had last night — some embers set part of the field on fire. I put it out.”
“But — “
“You passed out, Vivienne. I’ve never seen someone have such a bad reaction to snake venom.” He bites his lip and closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, he’s looking out the window.
“Last night was a shit show,” he says, finally. “But what you’re talking about never happened.”
“I saw you,” I say. I push myself up even though it hurts like hell. That inner fire is back. I know it wasn’t a hallucination. He had been held captive. I fought for him. I saw it. “He had a knife to your throat. You were bleeding and helpless because he took your magic.”
Kingston leans in close and lifts his chin to the ceiling. His skin is perfectly smooth.
“See?” he says. “No blood, no cut.” He looks down at me and tries to smile. It’s almost successful, too, but there’s a waver in his eyes, an uncertainty. He’s lying. “I wasn’t in danger,” he says. “But it’s kind of cute that you think I could have been. Did you save me? In your dream?”
He’s close, oh, so close, but right now, I just want to smack him. I lie back down instead and stare up at the ceiling. When I close my eyes, my memories sift around. I still remember him in the headlights, his face pale and terrified. I still remember Mab confronting Senchan, and I remember meeting Lilith in Kingston’s trailer. Taking her hand. I swear I remember it, even though it’s blurring around the edges, fading the more I hold it up for examination.
And there’s another memory, a shadow of doubt. I remember the sharp pain in my ankle as I walked to join the troupe at the bonfire. I remember the pain, the nausea and spasms, as the world spun and fell away. I squeeze my eyes tighter and bring a hand to my forehead, try to block out the images. What I saw — Senchan, Kingston, Lilith — had to have been real. It had to. So why is the rattle of the snake I stepped on just as real? Why is that pain just as sharp?
“You need to sleep,” Kingston says. I don’t open my eyes, but I hear him stand. He puts a hand on the side of my face. His touch is still cool, even if there’s no real magic in it now. I can feel his fingertips shaking. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Then he leaves, the door clicking quietly shut behind him.
I’m not okay. Not even close to okay. I’m on another fucking planet from okay. But for the first time in a long time, I’m beginning to doubt if he’d be able to make it better.
He’s lying. But why? Why would he lie to me?
I thought he was on my side.
Now I’m wondering if that was the biggest lie of all.
* * *
I don’t sleep.
I have this terrible feeling that the moment I close my eyes, the truth — my truth — will fade away like a dream. It’s easy to believe I made it all up. The pain in my ankle is real enough, and the more I let it, the more the memory of being bitten becomes tangible. I just don’t want it to be real. The memory of the confrontation is taking on the same hazy feel as everything else in my past. So I keep my eyes open and watch a few bands of sunlight slide down the wall of my room. I consider standing up, but the bite burns like acid. I don’t move except to get more comfortable. I try not to think of having to pee.
The door opens a few hours after Kingston’s departure, when the sun is turning the inside of my bunk pink. I glance up, both hoping and not hoping it’s him. Instead, it’s Penelope. I sink back down into the mattress and try not to frown.
“How are you feeling?” she asks. Her voice is barely a whisper.
“Better,” I say, which is true. Physically, at least. My head doesn’t hurt nearly as much and the ankle is just a throb. I’m still holding the memory of Kingston in danger like a sanity anchor. I can’t let it go. I can’t let myself believe I’m delusional. Sanity is about the only thing I have going for me anymore, and even that's not saying much.
She walks over to the desk beside my bed and sets a tray down. There’s a steaming bowl, a mug, and a few thick slices of bread. The sight of it makes me want to gag. How can they expect me to do something as normal as eat when everything in my life is spinning upside down?
“A simple meal,” she says, noticing my glance. “We don’t want to add any more poisons to your system.”
“Thanks,” I say. I force myself into sitting up and she places the tray in my lap. I pick up the spoon but don’t start eating. The scent makes me nauseated. She’s still standing there, watching.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks.
I open my mouth, almost tell her the truth, that I feel like my brain’s been put through a blender and the people I trust are out to get me. I don’t. Never trust the gossip queen. High school taught me that.
I think.
“I’m fine,” I say. “Just…beat.”
She nods. “Well, I’m just glad you’re all right. If you need anything, my trailer’s parked right across from yours.”
I laugh weakly. “So I’m still under your watch?”
“Yes,” she says. “So it would seem. Get better soon. I know Richard and Vanessa were hoping to up your training this site.”
“Right,” I say. “That.” I’ve completely lost track of the days. Is it tomorrow I’m meant to be onstage? Or sometime after?
Penelope doesn’t say anything. She just looks me over one more time, opens her mouth like she wants to ask another question. Then she turns and leaves.
I can’t remember the last time I ate, but there’s no way in hell I can stomach anything right now. I put the tray on the desk and curl back up under the covers. I’m not going to fall into that trap, the idea that things could start to return to normal. When I close my eyes, I don’t really care if sleep comes. Maybe this whole thing — juggling included — would be better off as a dream.
* * *
I’m woken up by Kingston the next morning. He knocks on my door and steps inside without waiting for my answer. The sight of him washes away whatever nothing I’d been dreaming, and makes me panic for a moment, wondering who’s just been killed. Thankfully, he’s smiling as he walks in, a tray of food in his hands. He looks entirely casual — in gym shorts and a sleeveless shirt. Zal is wrapped around his bicep, its body hidden around Kingston’s back.
“Sleep well?” he asks as he nudges aside my uneaten dinner and sets his tray down.
“Ye
ah.”
“How’s the ankle?”
I stretch my foot under the covers. No pain. When I pull the sheets back, there’s only the slightest of red marks to show I’d be been bitten.
“Excellent,” he says. He sits down in my chair and puts his bare feet up on my bed. “Looks like you’ll be ready for practice in no time.”
“Thanks for reminding me,” I say. I reach for the coffee, which is already making my room smell like a caffeinated heaven.
“I talked with Mab,” he says. The declaration comes out of the blue, makes me pause before taking a sip. I don’t say anything. “She won’t let me help you with juggling.”
“Why not?” It’s not like I enjoyed the idea of Kingston prodding around in my mind, but it was better than being thrown out.
“She said it’s cheating and against your contract. No magical shortcuts.”
“That might have been nice to know.”
“You’ll be fine,” he says. His tone isn’t even remotely convincing. There’s a pause, and when he speaks again, he sounds tentative. “As for yesterday…”
“It’s okay,” I say. “I can’t expect your enchantments to ward off snakes as well. There’s no need to apologize.”
He smiles at me. “I’m glad to hear it,” he says. “You had me worried for a bit there.”
An uneasy silence threatens to come between us, so I pick the first question out of my mind I can think of.
“How’s Mel?” I ask.
“Better. Much better. She’s out of bed today.”
“That’s good,” I say.
What had I been worried about earlier? I look at him and feel a distant sense of betrayal I can’t quite place. Why would I feel that about him? He’s the one taking care of us, all of us. Still, the usual butterflies are out of place. Something just feels off. I try to place it, but the idea doesn’t come, so I just pick up my spoon and start to eat.
He leaves a few minutes later, after inspecting my ankle and throwing a little more magic my way. I should be fine to walk around, he says. Just watch where I step. The door closes behind him and I eat my cereal. Every once in a while, I stare down at my ankle to make sure it’s still there. The puffiness is gone, and there’s only a tiny pink scar from the bite marks.
The Immortal Circus (Cirque des Immortels) Page 14
