by Ann Charles
His hands slid under my tunic, taking up where we had left off when Runash interrupted us earlier. I wanted to resist, at least my head did at first, but then he lifted my tunic over my head and licked me through my camisole, and all thoughts of stopping him floated away.
He lifted me onto the table, the legs creaking under my weight. He grabbed the bottom of my long velvet skirt, lifting it up to my thighs. His hands branded my legs as they trailed north up my calves, over my knees, along my outer thighs. The whole time his tongue worked its magic on me, teasing and flicking, sucking and stroking.
A month’s worth of pent-up lust filled me from head to toe, making me hot, bothered, and wet. The last time we’d done this dance, he’d been drunk and I’d been plagued with guilt for taking advantage of him. This time, he was cold sober. No guilt, just Bruno, hot and hard, pressing against me.
I wrapped my legs around his hips, pulling him closer.
He stared into my eyes as his thumbs slid inside of my underwear, watching me as he stroked, teased, and explored.
I moved my hips, needing more than skimming touches. “Stop teasing me,” I gasped as he stroked again.
“I’m going to bite you.”
“No.”
He pressed, moving his thumb in small circles that made me dizzy with lust.
“You like that?” he asked, still watching me, holding back his kisses.
“You know I do.” I reached down and pressed his hand against me, moving with his touch. Pleasure began to build deep in my core, my body tightening.
I pulled away long enough to shove off my underwear, then his hand was back.
“Let me bite you,” he said, his finger sliding inside of me, while his thumb continued to rub.
“Bruno, wait,” I whispered, my breaths growing shallow, coming faster. My resistance was waning. The thought of his mouth on my skin made me moan in anticipation.
He pulled his hand away and lowered himself to his knees in front of me, licking his way up my inner thigh. His teeth grazed my skin.
“Oh, God,” I cried, writhing under his touch, pleasure just out of reach.
“Nora,” he whispered, his breath hot on my thigh. “I’m going to bite you.”
I shook my head once, but I wanted him to sink his teeth in more than anything else.
He pulled me to the edge of the table, parted my thighs, and then licked me, stroking and delving, making me moan and ache. I leaned back on my hands, opening wider to him, gasping his name, pleading for him not to stop.
I teetered at the edge of pleasure and he pulled back, his lips moving back to my thigh. “Bruno,” I breathed, needing him to finish what he’d started.
He rose and stood over me. “Let me bite you.” When I hesitated, he added, “I’ve wanted you since I met you, Nora. You were made for me.”
I frowned up at him. “I’m on the run.”
“I’ll run with you, protect you.” He bared his teeth. The Shifter reared in him, his canines lengthening, his eyes glowing as his feral side took over. “Let me make you mine, Nora Mai.”
The emotion in his voice was my downfall. I was tired of long nights, dreaming about him only to wake up cold and alone. I stretched my leg out along the table, offering myself to him.
He groaned. He bent down and licked my inner thigh before sinking his sharp teeth into my skin.
I tipped my head back, the pain making me cry out at first, but then pleasure rushed over me, tremors of release ripping through my whole body.
Bruno waited for me to come up for air before pulling me against him, his body straining under my hands.
“Bruno,” I said, tearing at his clothes. I needed him now!
“Hurry.”
I did.
This time there was no drunken fumbling.
No guilt.
No worries about hiding my scent and feelings.
He slid between my thighs and took me with a force that knocked the wind out of me.
I clutched his shoulders as he rocked against me, clinging when I pulsed around him. The tightening of my body seemed to push him over the edge after me. I held him as he groaned and shook with release.
When he finished and looked at me, I saw in his eyes what I’d been waiting for all my life.
“Nora.” He raised my hand and kissed my knuckles. “I had no idea.”
“Me neither.”
“Does it hurt bad?”
I knew he meant the love bite. “It tingles.”
He smiled. “You’re mine, woman. I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth.”
I cupped his face, giving him a soft kiss. “How about just following me to my bed for now?”
“I can do better than that.” He lifted me, carrying me through the curtains, and lowering me onto my bed. “I’m sorry,” he said when he joined me.
“For the love bite? Don’t be. I wanted you to do it, but I was afraid of what it would mean for you.”
“Not for the bite. I wanted to make you mine, plain and simple. I’m sorry for not being here to save Clint.”
I hugged him close. “That’s not your fault.”
His breath was hot on my neck. “Are you on birth control?”
“No, but I’m not ovulating right now.”
“Damn.”
I chuckled. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t keep practicing.”
He didn’t wait for a second offer, moving slower this time, exploring more thoroughly. When I’d had all of the teasing I could take, I pushed him onto his back and leaned over him, sinking my teeth into his shoulder, marking him as my own.
His body tensed for a moment under me, and then he took me by the hips. “There’s no going back now, woman,” he growled and pulled me down onto him.
“You promise?”
For an answer, he finished what I’d started.
We were still breathing heavily when I heard a sound outside of my tent.
“Electra?” I heard Eugene say quietly through the tent fabric.
Bruno frowned at me. I shrugged, sitting up and looking for my robe. “What do you need, Eugene? If this is about your act tomorrow, you need to come back in the morning when my head is clear.”
“It’s not the act. I need to talk to you about something I overheard. Can I come into your tent?”
“Sure. Wait for me in my parlor. I’ll be out in two shakes.”
I kissed Bruno once more before climbing off of him.
Eugene was standing inside the curtains when I joined him, leaving Bruno sitting on the side of my bed.
“What is it?” I asked Eugene. One of his eyes looked redder than the other. “Are you okay?”
He wrung his hands. “I overheard Ming talking to someone in her tent about you.”
Me? “What about me?”
“Ming said you aren’t who you say you are.”
My hands grew clammy. “Did she say who I was?”
“She mentioned the name ‘Nora’ and told whoever she was talking to that she was going to write a blog about your true identity.”
“What?!” I fell into my chair. “Why would she do that?”
Bruno stepped out from my bedchamber, fully dressed again, drawing a curious look from Eugene. “Because Ming is all about promoting the circus, no matter the cost,” Bruno answered.
This would draw in the bounty hunters like flies to honey. I needed to run! Now! Far!
Bruno squeezed my shoulder. When I looked up, he shook his head slightly, seemingly reading my mind. It appeared he had some psychic abilities, too.
“Ming said you’re a fake,” Eugene said.
“That bitch,” I muttered.
“Is it true? Are you a fake?”
“No, Eugene. I’m really a psychic. I have not lied to you about your act.”
“Then what does she mean?”
I sighed. It didn’t matter. I’d have to be gone by morning. “She means I’m not really Madam Electra.”
Eugene snorted. “Well, that’s no big deal
. None of us are really who we say we are here.”
I blinked. “We aren’t?”
“Well, Bruno’s true blue,” Eugene said, “but the rest of us all have something to hide. That’s why we’re here.”
“Oh.” Maybe I wasn’t as good a psychic as I’d thought.
“Ming needs to be stopped,” Bruno said, pulling on his boots.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“To find Ming.”
“Not without me,” I said, grabbing my slippers.
We parted ways with Eugene when we reached his tent.
Several tent searches later, Bruno and I were still empty handed. We headed back to my place, stopping to pet Jeff, the circus’s only rhino, who was enjoying a massage and rubdown by Hank, the gorilla Shifter, who treated his pet rhino like royalty.
The sound of a scream made me jerk away from the rhino.
Bruno took off toward the sound of the scream at a sprint. I raced after him into the darkness, but my slippers slid on the dew-covered grass, slowing me down.
The screamer acted as a beacon, drawing a crowd.
“What happened?” I asked Lemon Drop when I reached the group. Or maybe it was Lolli Pop.
“Somebody stabbed Ming.”
“What?”
She nodded, her eyes watery. “Ming’s dead.”
Chapter Eight
An hour later, I paced my tent, waiting to learn who killed Ming.
Finn and Eugene stayed by my side per Bruno’s orders, making sure I kept breathing until he returned to my tent. The local law enforcement had been called in to work with Bruno, Runash, and the others on their security team as they analyzed the crime scene.
“Why Ming?” I asked nobody in particular. More important, did it have something to do with what Eugene had overheard about her exposing me? Was someone working undercover here for Gone Were and had been trying to protect me from exposure? Or had Ming pissed off someone else?
“She had a lot of enemies,” Finn said, his nose twitching. He spoke in plain English this time. Twice he pulled a joint from his pocket, fingered it, and then stuffed it back into his jacket.
“Eugene, are you sure you didn’t see, hear, or smell who she was talking to in her tent?”
“No,” the bear of a man said from where he lounged in my parlor room visitor chair. “But I was distracted.”
“By what?” Finn asked, his gaze darting around my tent.
“Some of the fire-retardant goop I used had seeped into my right eye during my show. I’d been on my way back from the shower with my eye still burning when I overhead Ming. I only paid attention to the bit I heard about Electra being a fake because she foretells the outcome of my performances each night. As soon as I heard that, I came to Electra’s tent to see if Ming was lying or not.”
“Well, I doubt you need to worry about tomorrow night’s performance,” Finn said, pulling out the joint and sticking it into his mouth this time before yanking it out and stuffing it back in his pocket again.
“Why’s that?” I asked, settling into my chair.
“Bruno told Kenneth to shut the circus down until they find the killer.”
Eugene frowned. “What did Kenneth say to that?”
“He was too busy choking back sobs to say anything,” Finn said, hopping over to peek through the curtains into my waiting area. His back leg thumped nervously when he turned back to us. “He just nodded.”
“He must have really loved Ming after all,” Eugene said. “The Shifters over in Clown Alley must be feeling pretty shitty about this. They had a bet going, laying odds on how long until Ming left Kenneth for a bigger fish.”
“Maybe that’s who killed her.” Finn changed feet, thumping with his other one. “A bigger fish.”
“Or maybe it’s the same person who killed Clint,” I said. “Didn’t you say that she was stabbed?”
“No, Lemon Drop told you that.” Finn’s nose twitched in rapid-fire succession. “I heard she was torn to pieces.”
My heart hurt for Ming, even though she had been on the verge of destroying my life. Her aspirations had gotten the best of her.
Poor Kenneth. His pug heart wasn’t going to fare well with losing her. I wondered if the owner was going to send in a temporary master of ceremonies while Kenneth grieved.
“You don’t think they’ll shut us down for good, do you?” Eugene asked, using the chair to scratch his back. “I don’t mean to sound cold hearted about Ming’s death, but I don’t want to have to find another job. I just don’t fit in well with the normal Shifters, and I stick out like Bigfoot among the humans.”
“Nah, the owner is too into making money with us,” Finn said, sniffing the joint this time before hiding it away. “Ming told me once that we make the most money out of all the different divisions in AC’s circus conglomeration. Circuses have grown passé, but freaks are like rock stars.”
“We’re rock stars?” Eugene said, scratching his chin with his tufted fingers. “I don’t feel like a rock star.”
I was glad we’d be shut down for at least a couple of days per Bruno’s order. That would give me time to make a decision about sticking around or not. The problem now was if I left, Bruno would follow. I didn’t doubt for a minute that he meant what he’d said about not leaving my side. No longer was I a one-woman band, and to be fair, I needed to see what Bruno wanted to do before making any decisions.
I heard footsteps coming our way through the grass. I could tell by the cadence that it wasn’t Bruno. I shushed Finn and Eugene with my finger to my lips.
The three of us waited to see if we’d have a visitor or not. I heard the tent’s outer flap swish. “Madam Electra?” Runash called.
Damn it. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with her suspicions tonight.
“In the parlor.”
She parted the curtains. “You need to come with me.”
“Why?” If she was going to arrest me as a suspect for Ming’s death, I was going to call bullshit. Bruno had been with me most of the evening. I couldn’t have a better alibi.
“Bruno told me to come get you and bring you to the security tent.” She sneered at my parlor table. “You’re to bring your crystal ball.”
Bruno wanted me to bring Ol’ Blue? “I’d rather not.” At least not in front of a bunch of strangers.
“He mentioned you might feel that way and told me to tell you it’s not a request. It’s an order. We need your help with several clues Ming’s killer left behind.”
I could tell by the way her upper lip curled she wasn’t buying my psychic act, even though her superior was.
“No.” I stood my ground.
Her eyes narrowed. “What?”
“You heard me. I’m not taking my crystal ball to the security tent. If Bruno needs my help, he can come to me.”
For Ol’ Blue to work for me, I needed to be somewhere I was comfortable. I’d be squirmy as hell with all of those cops and the rest of Bruno’s team watching me work. With my luck, I’d look into my crystal ball and end up somehow seeing myself tied to Ming’s murder.
Runash cursed. “Fine. I’ll relay the message that you are unwilling to help authorities with Ming’s murder investigation.”
I shrugged off her guilt trip. “Tell Bruno to come to me and I’ll do whatever he needs, but my terms are solid—my tent and him alone.”
She started to leave.
“Runash.” I stopped her, asking, “Does Bruno have any idea why she was killed? Did it have to do with her blog?”
“Nothing has been determined for certain at this time. If you want to know more, my terms are that you need to be in our tent amongst the other security personnel with your crystal ball ASAP.”
I lifted my chin. “It’s going to be like that, is it?”
“It’s definitely going to be like that, psychic.” She spoke that last word with a wrinkled upper lip and then turned to Finn and Eugene. “I hope you both have solid alibis, boys, because you’re on my list of suspe
cts along with Electra.” After a final squint in my direction, she left.
“What a bitch,” Finn said, sticking the joint in his mouth and lighting up.
“I never have liked her.” Eugene crossed his arms. “She told me that eating fire in my bear form was a lame act.”
I reached across the table and patted Eugene’s arm. “Don’t let her get in your head. You sell out almost every night. Fire-eating bears are cool.”
“Why does she always have to be so mean?” Eugene asked no one in particular.
Finn blew out a circle of smoke. “She’s a were-cougar. Have you ever met a nice one?”
Eugene sighed, sounding forlorn. “I wish Clint was here. He would be making us laugh.”
We sat for a few minutes in silence, listening to the circus going on outside of my tent. I tried to center myself as a way of calming down. First Clint and now Ming. On top of that, Bruno knew my true identity. Damn. So much had happened in such a short time. Maybe if I could calm down and center my thoughts, I could help Bruno when he returned later.
“Hey, Electra?” Finn said, taking another toke. He squinted through the smoke he blew out, pointing his joint at Ol’ Blue. “Why is your ball glowing red? Isn’t it usually blue?”
I looked over at Ol’ Blue. He was right. There was a weird red glow in the center of the crystal ball.
“Oh no,” I whispered.
“Oh no?” Eugene repeated, leaning closer to peer into the ball. “Why ‘oh no’? Is a red glow bad?”
“Red symbolizes that there is danger on its way.”
“Danger for whom?” Finn asked, his back leg thumping again.
I frowned up from Ol’ Blue. “One of us.”
Eugene groaned, lowering his big head into his huge mitts. “We’re next. I just know it.”
“Crikey, mate,” Finn said, slipping into his Australian accent. “Maybe it’s not a life and death deal, you know? Maybe the danger has to do with your act.” Finn tried to sound upbeat, but there was a nervous flutter in his voice.
Eugene groaned even louder and dropped down onto the floor, holding his heart. “I knew it. I’m going to go up like a matchstick the next time I handle fire. That’s probably why the ball is showing red. It stands for fire.”
I shushed them both and closed my eyes, trying to focus on what might be causing the red glow. My mind traveled back to the southwest desert, turning up to stare at the star-filled night sky. What is it? What is waiting out here for me to see?
