Circus Wolf

by Lynde Lakes

  “Out for a walk.”

  “Were you together the whole time?”

  Hugh hoped Tigra would back him up. “She left the circus a few minutes ahead of me, but I caught up with her right away. What’s wrong, officer, another robbery?”

  “Worse. A young woman was brutally attacked and murdered shortly after you left the grounds. According to witnesses who saw you leave, the timing matched.”

  Hugh frowned. So much for the closed-mouthed Circus-Carney bunch. Or maybe they threw me to the dogs because I’m not considered one of them. But what about Tigra?

  The puncture wounds found in the young girl’s neck indicated we’re dealing with a werewolf, tiger, or a vampire.”

  Tigra’s eyes widened. “A vampire?

  Gonzales’ gaze remained steady. “Whatever demon killed that young innocent girl, it drank from her neck vein. The ghastly process is called the vampire kiss. It’s highly erotic, but ends in death.”

  Tigra paled. “Hugh, you may have saved my life.”

  Gonzales looked unimpressed.

  Hugh wasn’t impressed himself. He’d saved one woman, but failed to save another. A wave of regret washed over him. Perhaps if he hadn’t been trying to seduce Tigra in the pool…

  “When the serial murders started up in our area,” Gonzales said, “we checked on everyone who works for the circus. We learned that you and your brother, Damon, always seemed to be around when the werewolf attacks happened in the Mt. Baldy area.”

  Tigra’s eyes widened. “Are you saying a werewolf killed that girl?”

  “Too early to tell. We know one thing for sure—whoever killed that lovely young girl is both animal and devil.”

  Lovely young girl echoed in Hugh’s head. His stomach knotted, hurting for the girl’s family and fearing what might be going through Tigra’s mind. “Well, I assure you, officer, neither my brother nor I had anything to do with any killings now or ever.”

  The officer glared at him with an icy, unconvinced gaze. “Both of you. Open your mouths.”

  They complied, and Hugh wondered if Tigra felt as ridiculous and degraded as he did.

  “Nice teeth,” Gonzales said as though disappointed they weren’t fangs. “The victim

  was bitten and since you were in the area and the timing fits, we need a swab of saliva from each of you.”

  Officer Tanner already had the kit open and stepped forward. “Open,” he said, and swabbed their mouths with separate swabs and then labeled and put each into clear plastic containers.

  Hugh felt as violated as hell. Probably Tigra felt the same. But to refuse would have thrown more suspicion on them. And neither could chance that.

  “We weren’t the only Circus people to leave the grounds around the time of the murder,” he said. “Did you check on Vance, the high wire, aerialist? He left the grounds just before I did. Did you swab his mouth?”

  Gonzales’s eyes darkened. Hugh figured the cop thought he was only trying to divert blame away from himself. Tigra’s sidelong, glowering glance suggested she might think so, too.”

  “Did you see him leave, too, Miss?”

  “No, but—”

  “That’s all right. We’ll question him and ask around if anyone else saw him leave the grounds. We appreciate all leads.” Gonzales bored-eyed expression revealed he was doubtful anything would come of it. After a moment, his gaze hardened and he glanced directly at Hugh. “I promise you, we’re going to get this monster, whoever he is.”

  Gonzales glanced at Tanner. “All set?” When the officer with Indian cheek bones nodded solemnly, Gonzales said, “We’ll be back when we get the forensics reports. Don’t leave town.”

  Tigra wrinkled her bow. “What if your tests take longer than our stay in town? Can you stop us from moving on when the circus pulls up stakes?”

  “We can shut down the whole operation, if necessary, and keep everyone in town for as long as it takes. I suggest you both continue to cooperate. And if either of you think of anything to help us, call me.” He handed them each a card. “That includes any information you might learn about the museum robbery. That case is still open and it’s possible both cases are connected.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tigra’s stomach knotted. The silence between her and Hugh was deafening as they watched the police officers hustle down her caravan steps and disappear around the corner into the shadowy darkness of the closed arcade.

  She pulled her keys out of her hidden pocket, eager to escape inside.

  “Here, let me help you.” She felt a spark when he slid her keys from her grasp. He inhaled as if to fortify himself and then opened the door.

  She pressed her lips tight. After a few seconds of indecision, she said, “You want to come in? I can make hot chocolate.” She remembered the sensual feel of him stroking her lips, stirring her, making her want him. His eyes glinted and she had the uneasy feeling he was reading her mind. Still a persistent sense of curiosity overrode her concerns, and she decided to accept the danger of inviting him in. She needed to learn what the police knew about him.

  Although he could be dangerously persuasive, the risk was vital; she had new information about this handsome roustabout that couldn’t be ignored and another innocent young woman was dead. She reached inside and flipped up the entry wall switch, needing to shine some of light on what she felt certain was bound to be a disturbing conversation. She squared her shoulders and then stepped back and gestured for him to enter.

  He lowered his brows and his eyes darkened. “You’re going to attack me with a bunch of questions about how my brother and I fit into all the evil, aren’t you? And then probably not believe my answers.”

  “I’m trying to keep an open mind. You’re my assistant. We have to work together and count on each other. I want to trust you and I want you to trust me. But knowing you are a shifter and the new information from the police has raised questions that must be answered for any semblance of trust between us to continue.”

  He shrugged. “I want to keep my job so I’ll come in for a few minutes. I doubt either of us will get much sleep tonight.” His nonchalance denied the tension charging the air between them. “And maybe the warm hot chocolate will relax us.”

  She doubted anything could, and her theory was immediately tested as he filled the caravan with his wide-shouldered presence. She gestured to a folding chair. “Make yourself as comfortable as you can in my cramped quarters,” she said, heading straight for the compact alcove that served as her kitchen. From a packed cabinet, she got out the instant chocolate, two mugs, and a jar of marshmallows.

  He was staring at her with a piercing gaze. She felt vulnerable and off balance; unfortunately she couldn’t take back that she’d revealed her tightly-guarded secret, or allowed poor judgment and passion in the steamy pool to further complicate and compound her mistakes.

  They remained silent until she slid the hot chocolate in front of him and sat down next to him at the small folding table. She curled her fingers around the mug. Barely aware of the chocolaty aroma spiking the air, she took a long, languid sip of the marshmallowy concoction.

  Her mind churned. The murder of the young girl had sent a new wave of darkness spiraling around them. She met his gaze. “Like you surmised, I want to talk about you and your brother. Tell me about your involvement with the other murder case, or cases.”

  “Please understand I feel uneasy about opening private doors.” His wary, sad expression suggested he was thinking back to his youth and perhaps painfully recalling memories of lives entwined and then ripped apart. “Will you promise to keep what I tell you just between us?”

  “If you keep the secret about me, I’ll keep your secrets as guarded as my own.”

  “Maybe we should strive for better than you guarded your own. Morphing in the hills like we did isn’t guarding our secrets as well as we could, and I think we both learned a lesson about making sure we are totally alone before shifting.”

  Her face warmed. She couldn
’t deny it. “Right. Now, back to what the police have against you and your brother.”

  He looked down into his mug of hot chocolate as if the answers were there. His long, thick lashes hid his eyes. “I had two half-brothers. Damon and Reeves. The men were as different as angels and devils; Damon saved lives and Reeves took them. All three of us were werewolves. Damon found the cure that worked for him and his family. As yet none has worked for me. Eventually Reeves was destroyed by his own evil. But before that, he violently ripped out my throat and I died. An angel resurrected me.”

  She couldn’t hold back a gasp. “What? Do you expect me to believe that?”

  He clasped his cup so tightly his fingers whitened. “Work with me. Learning you’re a tigress is no less difficult to accept. I assure you, I’m not a bad man. I’ve donated my life to helping others.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm down. “What do the police know for sure?”

  “They know women were being attacked and killed in our community and that we were keeping experimental wolves on our property.”

  “Why?”

  “We were testing them, looking for a cure for Lycanthropy and a substance to control lycanthropic impulses while investigating promising serums.”

  “If your half-brother Reeves was the real killer and you cared about the women in your community, why didn’t you turn him in?”

  “We didn’t know. When Damon learned of it; he tried to alleviate the problem.”

  Alarms went off in her head. “Alleviate the problem?”

  “Freedom from evil can only exist if deliberately weeded out with great effort and too often, the spilling of blood. It is a constant unrelenting fight to win over the ever rising and encroaching darkness. And that may be what we’re dealing with now. But I’m getting ahead of myself. The point is, the solution wasn’t permanent.”

  He held her gaze and seemed to be watching her reaction. Uneasy, she rubbed the prickles shooting down her arms.

  He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to get into things not pertinent to our conversation, like the bubbling mud, and the unsettling of demons.”

  “Whoa. You’re skipping some alarming concerns my friend.”

  “It’s essential for conciseness. All you need to know now is Reeves became one of the walking dead with the ability to shift and switch identities. The only way to stop the killing was to find a permanent way to stop him. But with his ability to shift to other bodies, this took years.”

  “The police never learned that your evil half-brother was the killer?”

  “No, and after tremendous struggles and near death, we were all cleared of any wrong-doing.”

  “How do you know your evil brother isn’t back and up to his old tricks of seeking revenge?”

  Hugh’s expression grew stony. “You’ll just have to accept my word. I’m positive he’ll never bother anyone again. But someone is killing innocent women, and as of this moment, I’m locking into the goal of finding and stopping him, while keeping you safe.”

  His words sent a tiny thrill of hope through her. She didn’t want to distrust Hugh, yet her wariness remained. Like her, he didn’t choose to live a dual existence but was it safe to believe he was a good guy? “You’re a scary man, Hugh, with a scary history. After what you told me, I should run like hell.”

  “I’d understand if you did. So where does that leave us?” He closed his hand over hers.

  She glanced down at their clasped hands, resisting an urge to rip her fingers away. “Trusting our instincts and living on faith.”

  Glaringly aware the gravest threat to her secret and her life was the burning desire to unearth the truth, she looked up into his silvery and gentle gray eyes. She took a deep breath. “I guess our next step is to figure out a way to help the police uncover the monster stalking the periphery of the circus without revealing or incriminating ourselves.”

  If they didn’t come up with a solid plan, an earthquake of depraved evil would shake them and their beloved Big Top to destruction. While working on a solution, they had to get beyond the regret, feral instincts electrifying the air, as well as somehow stay out of the path of evil—and stay out of one another’s arms.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Skull snickered at the stupidity of those he was forced to share the world with. The police had come and gone. Without argument or complaint, he’d allowed them to swab his mouth. He was prepared; his blood-sucking cavern was as clean as the day, several lifetimes ago, that he was born. His compliance revealed his willingness to cooperate—and the absence of evidential DNA deflected suspicion off of him. It was a win/win situation.

  He looked out the window and glared into the night. Someone would pay for sicing the cops on him. The pigs refused to tell him who’d squealed. Several people could have seen him leave the grounds. Was it Madam Mystic? She always had access to an opaque global window of information. The Voodoo Queen had better stay out of his affairs if she knew what was good for her. And she did—she knew her every breath depended upon her silence. Maybe it was Hugh. Skull scoffed. He didn’t really need an excuse to oft the bastard, but he would enjoy it even more if he had a solid reason. But with the police sniffing so close the wily assistant tiger-trainer and roustabout served a better purpose as fall guy. Later, the moccasin-wearing lothario could pay the deadly penalty for his interest in Tigra and, if guilty, for sicing the cops on him.

  Skull paced his caravan. He felt sure Hugh was the snitch. He didn’t think Tigra had seen him behind her, and even if she had, she was as closed mouthed as they come. He had always wondered what she had to hide; her secretiveness was part of the intrigue around her. He smiled. One day soon he’d learn her secrets and taste her blood. Then they’d soar to a wild erotic state and he’d make her his for eternity

  ****

  The next morning Hugh called his brother about his prime suspect, Skull. He hated to ask for help; he wanted to be totally self-sufficient, but with a serial killer on the loose and innocent women in danger he couldn’t let pride get in his way. By noon, the detective his brother kept on retainer called. He’d unearthed only tidbits of info about Skull. The man, like himself, kept a low profile—he’d been with the circus for five years yet no one knew anything about his past. He had no friends, no enemies. He hadn’t even formed a close association with his high wire partner, the attractive Gabriella Devaux.

  Later, during practice, when Hugh told Tigra the sketchy profile she said, “Look, I’ll admit the guy is weird and he personally gives me the creeps, but he’s not the only creepy man associated with this circus.”

  Hugh’s throat went dry. Why she was defending him? Did she have a thing for the high-wire king? “But he’s the only one I know who left the circus grounds during the time of the murder.”

  “Yes, you made that quite clear with the police last night,” she said, opening the main cage. “But seeing him leave isn’t evidence, and your accusation to the officers sounded like deflecting blame. You left the grounds about the same time.”

  He met her gaze. “And, so did you.”

  She frowned. “You’ve made your point. We all left the grounds and that’s not proof of anything. So, on my part, I won’t jump to conclusions and decide about you or anybody without evidence.”

  “So how do we gather evidence without breaking the law? I thought of searching Skull’s caravan. But it’s illegal and besides the police already searched it.”

  Her eyes brightened. “They searched the whole circus grounds and found nothing. That suggests I was right to consider looking for evidence in the hills. I think we should go treasure hunting in the caves after tonight’s show. If we luck out and find the golden arrowhead perhaps its discovery will lead us to the killer.”

  Hugh frowned. “Or, maybe lead the police to us.”

  She lifted her chin. “Do you have a better idea?”

  ****

  After the show, in her strips of fur and cape, Tigra hurried to her caravan. The weather
had been clear all day, but suddenly the sky darkened and rain drizzled from the swollen skies. She leapt over puddles. The change in weather encouraged the crowds to clear the grounds fast and they headed for the exits en masse.

  She’d just stepped into her caravan when the sky broke wide open in a thunderous rumble and the rain fell in torrents. She stood in the entry dripping and looking out, her stomach in knots. Lightning scrawled silver zigzags across the sky and illuminated the top of the dark, stilled Ferris wheel. She saw Hugh running toward her and wondered if their adventure into the hills was off. Their scheduled interval at this circus location was limited and they were dealing with a ticking clock. But, but the weather was—

  “Ready to go,” he asked as he took the steps to her caravan two at a time.

  She frowned out at the pouring rain and slipped out of her wet sandals. “Sure, why not?” She wore only a soaked gold cape over her strips of wet fur. “Give me a sec to change into something more appropriate for wandering through spiky bushes and chilly caves.” From the cupboards, she got out the instant coffee and two mugs. “Make yourself useful.”

  Mostly she wanted to keep his mind occupied so he wouldn’t think too much about her forth-coming nudity.

  She stepped behind a screen and stripped. She grabbed two towels and tossed one over the top of the divider to Hugh.

  He laughed. “Not much point in drying off. I’ll just get soaked again. Besides, I like water.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of lycanthropes love of water. Dry off, anyway. I don’t want you dripping all over my caravan.”

  “Right.” His voice was deep, the tone lilting.

  What did he have to be amused about? She heard the microwave ding and a second later she inhaled the tempting aroma of coffee. She quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and slipped into a sleeveless sweater. When she hurried out from behind the screen, he handed her a mug. She clicked hers with his. “To finding hidden treasure.” Standing only inches apart, they took a couple of sips.