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Ferally Funny Freakshow

Page 8

by Ann Charles


  “Fuck,” I said. “Black is not good.”

  “You mean like knifed-to-pieces not good?” Eugene whispered.

  “It means really bad stuff is coming.”

  “I thought you were able to see actual things in the ball,” Finn said, blowing smoke over Eugene and me when he talked. “Like a little video showing you the future.”

  Waving away the smoke, I said, “Sometimes I can see things, but other times it only shows me hints of what is to come, like tonight.”

  I thought back to when I’d looked into it and saw myself dealing out cards in front of Lolli Pop. Why had it shown me that detail then, but only showed glowing colors now? That made no sense, unless …

  Then it hit me. The cards I’d read for Lolli had seemed odd. I thought back to what I’d flipped over for her. First there’d been the jack of hearts, which meant the receiver was continually in someone’s thoughts. The second card was an ace of spades, which stood for the death of a friend. The third card had been the ace of diamonds, announcing that there was an important letter to read. The final card was the five of clubs, signifying a meeting soon with an interested party.

  What if Ol’ Blue hadn’t been showing me Lolli’s fortune, but rather my own? Maybe I had been continually in the killer’s thoughts after the death of Clint. There had been an important letter to read, as in the contract on Clint’s head that I’d found in that alarm clock. Finally, I was destined to have a meeting with an interested party. Was that Bruno? Or the killer?

  My mind flashed to the rune stones I’d read while visiting Finn. First necessity, shadow, and friction for Clint’s death; second was death, dreaming, and magic about someone else questioning the details of Clint’s death; third was fertility, true love, and harmony regarding if we’d find Clint’s killer.

  At the time, I had applied my rune stone readings to Clint’s death. But what if I shifted my thoughts and focused the reading on my own situation as a hunted woman?

  And what about the tarot cards I’d read for Runash? There was the Wheel of Fortune card in the reversed position telling a story of bad luck—or so I thought. Maybe it was my bad luck. The second card was the Tower card in the upright direction, which referred to obstacles in our path of discovery about who killed Clint, as well as trauma, chaos, and confusion. Add to that painful revelations on the path to discovery, and it could fit my own ongoing situation as well as Clint’s death.

  The final card had been the Magician in the upright position, referring to the use of psychic powers, intellect, skill, and ability. That card could have been referring to me, not Runash.

  If this were the case, and the readings had been about me, then …

  “Oh my God,” I whispered, sitting back in my chair, my heart pounding. “I think I know who the killer is.”

  “Who?” Finn asked, looking up from the ball.

  Before I could answer, I heard the sound of a low growl on the other side of the curtains.

  The hair on the back of my neck bristled. My legs twitched, eager to flee the scene.

  The curtains swayed, and then Runash stepped through. She held a flare gun in her hand, aiming it at Eugene. “Move one muscle, bear, and I’ll light you up.”

  Finn tried to dart past her, but she snagged one of his ears with a speed that took my breath away. She lifted Finn into the air with ease. Finn’s back legs kicked as he struggled to break free, but Runash held tight.

  “Hold still, rabbit, or I’ll rip out your throat.” She crooked her neck and opened her jaws, her sharp canines elongated in a partial shift, her cheeks widening as the cougar showed her true self.

  “Finn, do as she says,” I cried, holding my hands out to stop her. “What do you want, Runash? If this is about the crystal ball, you can put him down. I’ll come with you.” Although I was pretty sure I knew what she wanted, now that Ol’ Blue had worked its magic.

  “This isn’t about your psychic bullshit.” She held the flare gun steady on Eugene, who had shifted into his grizzly form during the commotion. Stress acted as an automatic flip-switch for him. “I’m not kidding, bear. You will burn if I see you take a single step.”

  Runash had done what cougars do best—ambush their prey. I should have seen that coming, damn it. I was a coyote, not a rabbit or a bear. It was my fault Eugene and Finn were caught up in this.

  Her amber eyes turned in my direction, a low growl sounding in the back of her throat as she watched me with cat eyes. “You’re coming with me, Nora Mai, or I’ll kill your friends.”

  Chapter Nine

  My heart pounded in my ears. Either Runash knew my name because of the paper in Clint’s pocket or worse, she was the bounty hunter who’d torn poor Clint to pieces. If she shifted, I had no chance. Coyotes rarely escaped cougar attacks in the wild. I would have to keep my head, rely on my cunning and wily skills to stay alive.

  On top of that, I couldn’t let anything happen to Finn or Eugene. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. But before she followed through on whatever she had planned for me, I needed to know something.

  “Did you kill Clint because of the contract on his head? Or did he get in the way of catching me?”

  Her lip curled. “That clown was a crook. He’d escaped justice for the last time. Just like you.”

  “Clint had made a deal with the authorities.” At least that was my assumption based off my own dealings with the Gone Were program. “He’d given up his freedom to help stop other criminals. How do you figure that us hiding our true identities, never seeing our families again, and living everyday in fear of being discovered is ‘escaping justice’? We’re serving time, same as the other criminals.”

  “You’re not behind bars, stuck in a cage, forced to eat rotten meat day after day. You’re free to breathe the fresh air, roam unchained, and even mate if you want. That’s not serving time, psychic. My job is to make you finish paying for your crimes.”

  “Tearing Clint to pieces was not justice,” I said.

  “I needed his fingerprint, the rest didn’t matter.”

  Christ. I wasn’t dealing with a rational mind here. I was staring down a cold-blooded killer bent on delivering her own twisted, gruesome version of justice. How in the hell was I going to outsmart crazy?

  An idea struck. I looked from Eugene, whose round eyes were locked on the flare gun, to Finn. The jackrabbit’s gaze darted between Runash and me, his eyes wide with fear.

  He focused on me, his nose twitching. “Don’t,” he said, tugging at Runash’s arm with his front rabbit feet.

  “Don’t what, rabbit?” she asked, clacking her long sharp teeth together next to one of his long ears.

  He wasn’t talking to her. He’d meant that for me.

  But I didn’t listen.

  I blew out a breath and shapeshifted. My skirt billowed around me, hiding me for a second or two while I slipped around the side of my parlor table.

  Runash roared. I peeked up at her face, seeing it start to distort. She was shifting, too. I had to move now!

  I raced around her, leaping over Finn, whom she’d thrown to the floor, and sprinted out of my tent into the darkness.

  There was only one place I could go and have a chance of escaping her. I needed to find Bruno. With his mixed St. Bernard-coyote breeding, his size was twice mine. He would have a chance at taking on Runash with her sharp claws and deadly bite.

  Head down, I ran as fast as I could, weaving through the tents, sniffing the air. I could hear Runash’s huffs as she bore down on me, closing the distance between us. I darted through the wildebeests’ corral, slinking amid the small sleeping herd, leaping over their water trough, trying to slow Runash with my agility. The wildebeests woke up with a start, standing, stomping, and bellowing. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Runash strike out at one, and then she grunted when another kicked her in the side.

  That gave me the moment I needed to sniff the air for Bruno’s scent, but all I could pick up was the herd.

  Runash roared, m
aking my fur bristle. Adrenaline pumped through me. I dashed out of the corral, aiming for the security tent on the other side of the big top. I’d made it almost halfway there when she leapt through the air and barreled into me. We rolled across the grass, her claws digging into my ribs.

  I yipped in pain, struggling to break free and gain my feet again.

  But she was bigger, heavier, her claws holding me in place while she pinned me with her body weight, huffing over me. Her lips pulled back, her jaw opening wide.

  “Wait!” I said, shifting quickly back to my human form to speak. “I have a deal for you.” I didn’t give her time to reject it and dove straight in. “If you let me live, we can use my psychic abilities and crystal ball to find others in the Gone Were program.”

  A drop of saliva dripped off one of her canine teeth onto my neck, but her jaws didn’t descend. I had her attention for the moment.

  “Think about it. As a team, we could catch so many more who have escaped justice. Hunt them down and make them pay, just like you had to.”

  She partially shifted, a rarity in the were-world. Her cougar body and claws still held me in place, but her fangs retracted into a human-looking mouth. “Who said I ever had to pay? I’m in it for the money.”

  “If not you, then who? You are avenging on someone’s behalf with each of these deaths, I know it. I can feel it.”

  Her gaze narrowed, her ears pulling back. “Stay out of my head, psychic. I don’t think I like your—”

  “Hey, kitty!” Something flew between us.

  Runash jerked back and let out a hiss of pain.

  A thumping noise sounded next to my ear. I looked over. Finn the jackrabbit tapped his back foot on the ground. In his big buckteeth, he held several whiskers. He spit them on the ground. “You missing a couple of these, kitty cat?”

  Runash hissed again, her upper lip pulling back, several whiskers missing on one side. “I’m going to rip you limb from limb like I did that fucking clown.”

  “I don’t think you’ll be able to catch me,” Finn said. “You’re big and slow, and you corner like an elephant.”

  Runash snarled. “I’ll show you who’s slow as soon as I finish with—”

  A huge paw slammed into Runash with a muffled thud. The big cat flew through the air, landing several feet away and rolling across the grass.

  Eugene roared at her, his grizzly body hulking over me, shielding me from the cougar.

  “Where’s your flare gun now, bitch?” Finn challenged, hopping onto Eugene’s back. He peeked over the bear’s shoulder. “Electra, get out of here.”

  I pushed onto my knees, but stayed put. “She’ll follow me if I run, and Eugene is too slow to keep up. I need to stay and fight.”

  “Then fight we will, right, Eugene boy?” Finn hopped off as the bear faced off with Runash, who was back on her feet and circling.

  A guttural growl came from Eugene, making the hairs on my neck rise even though he was on my side.

  “Stay close to him,” Finn told me. “If she can separate you from him, she’ll take you. There’ll be no bargaining this time, coyote.”

  Runash had returned fully to her cougar form. She stalked one way and then the other, eyeing us. I had no doubt she was calculating a plan of attack. Fearing for Eugene’s life, I tried once more to stop any further bloodshed.

  “Runash,” I said, still in my human form, naked as the day I was born. “Consider my deal. I can do so much for you. How do you think I ended up in Gone Were in the first place?”

  She snarled at me in response, and then she lunged.

  Eugene took the brunt of her attack, his jaws wide. She was too fast for his punches, dodging his huge paws, and went for his throat.

  Finn leapt on her back, sinking his buckteeth into her ear, tearing at it. I shifted back into a coyote, rushing into the fray only to catch a sideswipe from Eugene that sent me tumbling across the grass.

  I rolled back up onto my paws, swaying slightly with dizziness. Finn lay on his side next to the two snarling and snapping beasts, his body still.

  No! I rushed over to him.

  Eugene let out a roar of pain, then Runash went flying again. She landed on her feet and turned to lunge again, her lips pulled back. The scent of blood filled the air.

  “Freeze!” a growly voice shouted.

  Bruno stood ten yards away at the edge of the clearing, a handgun pointed at the cougar. “Move and I’ll shoot, Runash.”

  Finn groaned at my paws.

  Runash’s eyes turned to me, narrowing slightly. Then she shot off into the darkness.

  “Stay with Nora,” Bruno told Eugene and started after Runash, shifting as he ran, leaving his gun and torn clothes on the ground.

  Eugene lumbered over as I sniffed at Finn. The bear had a limp in his step. His shoulder was bloody, like Finn’s back leg. I shifted back to my human form, lifting Finn in my arms. “We need to get him to a healer quickly.”

  Eugene sat down, taking a few seconds to return to his human form, too. “As soon as Bruno returns, I’ll grab some clothes and take Finn to the local veterinarian.”

  I nodded. “He’ll heal quicker since he’s in his rabbit form.” Shapeshifters healed best when in their animal form. It was one of the blessings that came with the risk of fleas and the need to buy new clothes frequently.

  A roar came from somewhere in the trees, followed by a series of gruff barks and goosebump-inducing growls.

  I frowned into the darkness, my heart pounding. “Bruno?”

  Then there was silence.

  I stood slowly, Finn still in my arms, and stared toward the trees, holding my breath.

  “Breathe, Electra,” Eugene said, standing next to me. He pulled me partially behind him, shielding Finn and me.

  The bushes rustled and trembled.

  Bruno walked out, a human again—a naked one at that, like Eugene and me, but among shifters bare flesh or fur rarely concerned us. He was holding the cougar by the scruff of her neck. Runash hung limp. As he drew closer, I could see the blood on his thigh and the right side of his chest.

  “Give me Finn,” Eugene said, taking the jackrabbit from me. “I’ll be back when he’s fixed up.” He took off.

  Bruno threw Runash down on the ground next to his torn clothes, then grabbed what was left of his shirt and wrapped it around me. The shredded cotton hung to my trembling knees.

  He grabbed the lapels and pulled me close, kissing my forehead. His warmth stilled my shivering.

  “Are you okay?” he asked huskily.

  I looked over at where Runash was slowly reverting to her human form, her eyes wide and sightless as she stared up toward the stars.

  “I am now.” I touched his cheek, wiping away a streak of blood. “What about you?”

  “It’s going to take some kisses and a lot of licking on your part,” he said with a grin. “But I’ll be okay by morning.”

  Chuckling, I leaned my forehead against his chest. “Now what?”

  “Now I find some clothes. It’s fucking cold out here, and unlike Eugene I’m not thrilled about showing off my fishing tackle to the rest of the circus.”

  I smiled up at him. “Well, it is the freakshow …”

  He smacked my bare backside. “Damned cheeky broad.” He tugged me toward my tent.

  Chapter Ten

  Two nights later …

  I packed up my tarot cards in my chest of drawers and took down several of the gauzy veils I used to decorate my tent, folding them as my thoughts drifted to the crystal ball on my parlor table.

  In the last two days, Ol’ Blue hadn’t told me anything I hadn’t already figured out, but Bruno had a few crumbs to share that were news to me.

  It turned out that Runash had been playing big, bad bounty hunter for years. She had over fifty kills credited to her in the form of payment per hide. Unofficially, Clint’s death could be added to that total, but she’d never turned in his finger, which was her preferred choice of proof—a fingerprint of t
he victim. Bruno found Clint’s finger in a sealed plastic bag hidden among Runash’s belongings when they searched her tent the night of Ming’s death.

  Poor Ming had been another of Runash’s victims. According to Kenneth, Ming had broken up with him before the show that night because she’d found out some new key information that was supposedly going to boost her career high enough that she didn’t need the circus anymore … or Kenneth. That “information” was about me, my fake death, and the crimes attached to my name. Kenneth didn’t know this, but Bruno did. He went through Ming’s belongings first thing in the morning yesterday, piecing more of the puzzle together.

  Ming must have told Runash of her plans, or somehow let it leak, because Ming was torn to shreds much like Clint. Why she felt the need to blab to Runash, Bruno didn’t know. He suspected she wanted help catching me in case I tried to run, maybe even a pseudo arrest, and alerted Runash. That had been Ming’s fatal mistake. Runash wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to know about me, because she was a lone hunter and I was easy prey if nobody else came sniffing around for me.

  I buried his clock under my veils so they’d cushion it. If only I could have figured out Runash’s secrets before she ambushed Clint that night in his tent. The poor wereferret didn’t have a chance.

  I was taking down the curtain that divided my parlor from the waiting room when Lolli Pop strolled inside my tent. “Hey, Lolli.”

  “I’m Lemon.”

  I chuckled. “Sorry. One of these days maybe I’ll get you two straight. What’s going on?”

  “I just wanted to tell you that we’re planning on having a little memorial for Ming on the train tomorrow morning.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be there.”

  “Good. We were kind of hoping you would lead it.”

  “Me? What about Kenneth?”

  “He’s too heartbroken. We all thought you would be more comforting. You always find a way to make us feel better.”

 

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