Circus Wolf (10 page)

Hugh met her gaze with forthright intensity. “I’m
sorry. I got caught up in the crowd mania. The laughter and applause was like a
drug. I wanted to do more and more to delight them and keep them laughing. It
was insane and I can’t believe now I took such risks. I won’t do it again. I
probably couldn’t do it again. But you were great! Thanks for backing me up.”

“Backing you up? Let’s get this straight, Hugh. This
is my act and—”

“Wait just a minute.” His voice deepened and his
tone took on an edge that surprised her, coming from this soft-spoken man. He
stepped close and drilled her with a glare as rigid as granite. “I did what was
necessary to avoid ending up like your last assistant. No one was there to save
me from mutilation and death but my own wits. Just like there was no one there
for Rolo.”

Tigra’s breath caught as if he’d slapped her. How
cruel to bring Rolo and her failure to save him into this. With all that was in
her, she held back a rush of tears and fought to keep the quiver out of her
voice as she said, “Okay. I see your point. But—”

“Dammit, Tigra, if you love your tigers as much as
you say, and I know you do, don’t you realize if Stripes had managed to get me
down, maul me, and kill me he would’ve had to be put down just like Candy?”

Tigra opened her mouth to speak, but her throat
constricted.

“Being your assistant is more dangerous than lying
down in front of a herd of trampling elephants. When you saw the trouble with
Stripes, since this is your act and if you are the boss of it, why did you
allow the backstage handlers to release more tigers into the cage?”

“I didn’t. That wasn’t supposed to happen and all of
the crew denied opening the hatch.”

He snickered. “Then, based on what happened to Rolo
and what happened today, I’d say I’m the least of your problems, Boss-lady. Or
were the slip ups today part of you and Coleman’s plan to keep the thrills
coming and the revenues flowing in?”

She stared at him, aghast. “Surely you don’t believe
that?”

“At this point, I don’t know what I believe. But to
clarify my position, my plan is to stay alive! And that won’t change. And I’ll
make on-the-spot judgments when necessary to achieve my goal.”

 
Tigra felt a
wave of nausea. Could Coleman have designed the foul-ups to increase the crowds
and revenue? She recalled her condemning conversation with him after Rolo died.
“I’ve known Coleman for a long time,” she said more to convince herself than
Hugh. “The boss loves the circus too much to allow someone to commit murder for
him to increase revenues. But I’ve heard there have been offers to buy the
circus. Maybe someone beyond our circle is sabotaging the acts to force the
price down.” Tigra sensed a number of divided loyalties and motives might be
complicating the issues.

“Good one, Tigra. Blame someone outside your
closely-knit, secret-filled Carney-Circus Community.”

She glared at him. “You have a sharp mouth for a guy
who is hanging onto his job by a thread.” She started pacing again. “But none
of this is getting us anywhere. I see your point, and understand why you did
what you did. I don’t know where you got the skills you exhibited, although I’m
amazed and grateful. We were unbelievably lucky today. From now on, there can’t
be changes made to the act without my say so. I won’t put up with you changing
things and risking our lives and the lives of my tigers. And strip out of that
costume and get it back to me within the hour. Now get out of my sight before I
do
fire you!”

He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know about
you circus women. You all seem intent in getting me out of my clothes.”

Tigra threw a pillow at the closing door, pretty
sure Bubbles was one of those who’d hit on him.
But were there others?

****

After all the Big Top performances were over Tigra
headed for the menagerie carrying Hugh’s clown outfit. She joined the circle of
tigers in their haven and lay down with them. She stroked their fur lovingly
and then stroked the costume. Humming softly, she allowed each tiger to smell
the rich, oddly feral scent. After the chaos in tonight’s performance, she
needed her Bengal’s to know Hugh was their brother as she was their sister, and
he wouldn’t harm them or her. She wanted to avoid any further conflicts between
Hugh and her cats. When all the tigers went to sleep, Stripes hugging the
costume, she eased away. She needed a run to shake off her human anxieties.

****

Vance Skull Kilman, garbed in his usual black
attire, felt the walls of his caravan-trailer closing in on him again. He
smiled. Tonight there was nothing to stop him from slipping out into the
darkness and fulfilling his lustful desires. He longed to seek out
an
unsuspecting female and, from her soft neck, suck in the erotic, sweet warm
blood…

Chapter
Eleven

Hugh sat on caravan thirteen’s pull-down terrace,
drinking a pitcher of ice water and watching workers going about their
business. Always on call, he had his cell phone handy. He waved at Les Morton,
one of the other new roustabouts, as he entered Bubble’s caravan.
Les’s
face reddened as though he’d been caught with his
hand up a skirt. Maybe that was part of his evening’s plan. The wiry bundle of
masculine energy used to be a high-wire performer like Skull. But a serious
accident had left him with a limp and off balance which ended his career. Les
had told him he was now a master painter with plumbing experience. Hugh
laughed. Maybe with
Les’s
injuries he needed a
massage. Or maybe the very forward and aggressive Bubbles needed her plumbing
unclogged. Hugh chuckled again. Maybe they’d take care of both problems during
his visit.
Better him than me.

Tigra waved as she jogged toward him in her running
sweats. Smiling, he signaled a hello, trying to appear nonchalant. Her graceful
lope reminded him of the way one of her tigers might move—one who had been
un-caged for the first time—swiftly, liquidly, and with ferocious purpose. As
she passed, with slanting and fiery emerald green cat eyes, she sent him a
fierce side-long glance.

He figured she was still upset about the chaos of
tonight’s performance with the Bengals. He understood, and wanted even more
than she did, to avoid any further conflicts between him and her cats.
Or her.

The caravan security lights illuminated her reddish
blonde hair with streaks of golden highlights. Her locks were mussed as if
raked angrily with those long, blood-red dagger fingernails. The sweat on her
upper lip revealed a body-heat he dare not contemplate without consequences.
Her outfit was black, but the white cursive lettering printed on it proclaimed
I love pink
. He shook his head. Even her
clothes were a contradiction.

She had barely left Caravan Row when Skull ran by,
also wearing all black. He seemed to be keeping a trailing pace, not gaining,
not falling behind as though following her. His cape flowed dramatically behind
him like the staring villain in a horror movie. Hugh tried to like everyone,
but Skull reminded him of the evil in his past. And the man was standoffish and
weirder than most of the other entertainers. What was the guy up to? Hugh
hoisted himself to his feet. He had to join the jogging parade to find out—and
to keep Tigra safe. He shook his head.
Could
he survive as Tigra’s protector without losing his heart—or his life?

****

Tigra headed through the ghostly white veil of fog
that curled about the edge of the circus grounds, moving swiftly through the
soft muted colors of the night toward freedom and, if lucky, discovery. She had
a hunch if anyone connected with the circus had stolen the gold arrowhead, they
would have stashed it one of the caves. The sooner the thief was uncovered the
sooner the police would move on to something else. And if the thief was also
the killer, Rolo and Candy’s deaths would be avenged and her secret would once
again be safe.

Increasing her pace, she left the road and entered
the hilly wilds of Shandon Hills. She inhaled earth, vegetation, and rotting
wood. The mountain’s lower foothills were dotted with a camouflage of low
concealing brush and according to Hugh, a scattering of rocky caves—a perfect
refuge for wolves, tigers, even vampires. Tigra squinted into the shadowy
darkness.
To
ward off her fear of the possible danger waiting in the caves, she forced
everything from her mind but her goal: find the golden arrowhead.

She hadn’t gone far,
when, with her tiger-sharp hearing, she heard a twig snap behind her and then
the crackle of underbrush. Her already pounding heart quickened its pace and
her nerves grew tauter by the second. Instinct and the knowledge a thief and a
serial killer was operating in the area alerted her and she moved deeper into
the shadows. Fear fluttered in her gut and goose bumps rose on her arms. Even
the moaning wind wailed a bleak warning. Fog floated in vaporous layers about
the tree trunks. Ahead were two huge granite boulders and beyond that a series
of caves. She should have brought one of the tigers with her. Should she morph into
a tiger now? She’d learned to shift back and forth at will. But occasionally
the shift failed.

Edging forward more slowly now, she listened to the
haunting gusts and moaning lament. She sensed the foggy darkness was alive with
danger and she had the heart-thumping feeling a supernatural creature was
nearby. She raked her fingers through her wild mane. She sniffed the air and
caught the scent of mustiness. Her flame hair, even in the night’s foggy haze
probably caught enough light to make her too visible.

She spied a cluster of moon
poppies. She’d read on the Internet during her research on werewolves that
devouring the moon poppy, which bloomed only in the night, could possibly ward
off or prevent the cursed transformation for the night. But would it work for a
tiger caught in the world of duality? Right now she didn’t want to test the
theory. If she needed to morph, she didn’t want anything blocking it.

****

As Vance Skull followed Tigra, he spied a group of
six young women ahead. He grinned. They were the circus groupies who had no
doubt tired of wrapping themselves in the lure of the circus performers for
tonight. He grinned. Nearly always there was one among them looking for a wild
experience. Suddenly, the perky blonde waved goodbye and veered away from her
five companions. He’d seen her laughing and having a good time with them in the
arcade earlier. He’d always liked blondes and this one was a younger, thinner
version of Marilyn Monroe. Her manner was flirty, sexy, and hot as they come.
There was a vitality about her that burned as brightly as his passion.

She headed west along the road bordering the hills.
Not one to pass up good fortune when presented to him, he changed focus and
made a westward detour.

Her youthful, perfumed female scent floated back to
him. He inhaled deeply. As he

widened
his steps, the scent grew stronger. It was just as he always imagined and many
times experienced: a lovely creature sauntering home from the circus, slipping
through the shadows, unaware, vulnerable….

With his intensified vampire hearing, he heard her
soft humming. Was the little nymph bolstering her courage to wander the night
at the edge of the hills alone?
Don’t
fear your fate. I’ll take care of everything, my lovely, and I promise the
pleasure before the pain will be worth your submission.

He caught up with her. A moment of fear glinted in
her eyes.

“Don’t be afraid, beautiful. Remember me? I’m one of
the Big Top entertainers, Lorenzo Cantrell, High-Wire King. My friends call me
Vance or Skully. Did you enjoy my performance?”

Her body posture relaxed, as though in submission,
and she twisted about like an excited puppy. “It was awesome.”

He smiled his trademark easy grin with a slight up
curve of the lips he seldom backed up with any real emotion. “A lovely young
woman like you shouldn’t be out alone at night. May I walk you home?”

Excitement flickered in her eyes. “Sure. Thanks.
Without moonlight, it is a bit spooky.”

He nodded toward the dim, blinking street lamp. “It
would help if the electric service crew would take care of that. None of the
lamps along this street seem to be operating properly.” He smiled.
And I like it that way.

“You have a nice smile, Vance.”

“Thanks. But wow, look at yours. Are you a model?”

She laughed. “No. I’m a student at SBVC, working on
my associates of arts.”

“Oh, a college girl.
You must be quite bright. I barely got through high
school.” It wasn’t the truth, but she didn’t want the truth. She wanted
adventure, excitement, and seduction. He put his arm lightly around her shoulders,
noting her fair, slender neck. “Would you like it if I left six free tickets at
the entrance tomorrow night? I’d like to see you again.”

“Oh wow, that would be
double
awesome.”

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her
fingers.

She giggled. “Your hands and breath are so icy.”