To Catch a Wolf (18 page)

"Why?" another man demanded. "What is all this about, Harry?”

Harry wrung his hands. "Well, you see

when he hired us, he did not know about our

main sideshow attraction, our own Morgan. I confess that I do not quite understand his

reasoning, but he has taken it into his head that our Wolf-Man may be dangerous to the

children and his sister. It is entirely ridiculous, but

”

The troupers fell silent. As one they looked at Morgan. He bore their stares with cold

indifference, a curiosity among curiosities.

"Munroe is afraid of freaks," Caitlin said loudly, stepping forward. "Any sort of freak. But

his sister is not like him." She swept the crowd with her stare. "She is a good woman.

She saw what Morgan is, and wasn't afraid. She wants to help us.”

"Does she hold the purse strings?" Florizel the clown cried out.

"You said Munroe made a threat if we didn't get out of town," said one of the Flying

Grassotti Brothers. "We have heard that he's a powerful man in this city. He has offered

us money to leave—it's not worth the risk to stay and make him angry.”

How could she counter that argument? Circus folk never stood up well against townies,

let alone prominent ones. They knew the wisdom of strategic retreat when townies

became hostile. She glanced at Harry, at Morgan, and last at Ulysses.

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Ulysses moved only a little, but every eye focused on him when he did. "Harry formed

this troupe," he said quietly. "Many of us had no homes, no employment, nothing at all

before he took us in. His hearth has always been open to anyone in need—anyone who

is different, regardless of the nature of that difference." He looked directly at Florizel.

"Once you aspired to be a great thespian of the legitimate stage. But no one would

employ you because of your appearance. Your talent meant nothing. You were lost in

the throes of dipsomania when we found you, and Harry gave you a chance to play to

the crowds.”

He turned to Regina, whose tall, impossibly thin body towered over everyone else.

"Your brother cast you out when you refused to marry a man who would not touch you if

not for your family wealth. You would not easily have found a partner outside, but

here

”

He didn't finish his sentence. Regina clasped her long, spidery fingers around the thick

ones of her husband, Tor the strongman.

"There are countless other stories like these," Ulysses said. "It is clear to me—”

"Harry asked for our opinions," Giovanni said. "You don't want us to stay, do you,

Harry?”

"It

well, it is true that Mr. Munroe wishes us to leave and will pay us half the promised

sum if we do so. But Miss Munroe—she is so very set on our performance. She even

wishes to keep us on for a second one.”

"I still don't see how it's worth turning a man like Munroe against us," Giovanni said. "If

we have enough to see us through winter—”

"Only if nothing else happens," Caitlin said. "If we have another fire, or any bad luck at

all—”

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"We'll get along. Let's pull out, Harry. We don't need to borrow more trouble.”

"I also vote that we leave," Tamar said, slipping up to the front of the gathering. "What

do we owe to this

Athena Munroe? To any of their kind?”

"That's right.”

"Tamar speaks truth. As long as he pays, he doesn't matter what his sister—”

A deep, reverberating growl sliced through the strident words. Morgan fixed his potent

stare on each of the speakers in turn. Every one of them stepped back into the safety of

the crowd.

"Cowards," he said. He didn't have to raise his voice; every word rang like the clash of

cymbals. "You pride yourselves on being different and better than townies. You say you

are a family. Now one comes to you who needs what you can give, and you turn your

back on her.”

A chorus of protests. "You are not making any sense, Morgan," Giovanni said. "Athena

Munroe is rich as Croesus. How can she need our help?”

"She is not like us," Florizel said, daring to step forward again. "In what manner is she a

freak, as Caitlin so kindly refers to us? She is a cripple, that is all.”

Morgan snarled. Florizel's face lost what little color it had.

"A cripple," Morgan said. "An outsider among her own kind, who helps strangers without

asking anything in return. She saw me Change today, and she was not afraid. And she

did not change her mind about us.”

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Caitlin stood at Morgan's shoulder. "What Morgan says is true. She may be a towny, but

she knows what it's like to suffer.”

"We gave our word to perform for her orphans," Morgan said. "I will go to Munroe. I'll tell

him that I will leave Denver if he allows the performance.”

"You'll do that just for this lady and her orphans?”

Florizel asked. "Have you been enjoying the lady's favors—what favors she has to

bestow—and that is why her brother wants us gone?”

Caitlin had seldom seen Morgan make the actual Change into the "Wolf-Man," the

creature he became in the sideshow. Now he began to transform, his body half-

wreathed in black mist, fine dark hair flowing over his hands and feet and at the neckline

of his shirt. His face remained almost untouched, but it was undeniably lupine. And

deadly.

Harry intervened. "Morgan's honor and his word have been good from the first moment

we met him," he said. "I trust his instincts, and Caitlin's. I think

I think they are right."

He mopped at his face with a handkerchief. "I believe we should stay for the

performance, and then leave.”

"And what if Munroe refuses to pay anything?”

"Miss Munroe will see that you get your money," Morgan said. Between one heartbeat

and the next, he was human again. "You decide whether or not you let a towny tell you

where you can go and how you can live.”

Harry coughed behind his hand. "I believe it is time for a vote. Will those who wish to

leave say 'aye'?”

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The few ayes were restrained and almost inaudible. When Harry asked for the nays,

they rang out with conviction. Caitlin grinned at Morgan and Ulysses.

"This course does entail some risk," Ulysses said as the troupers began to disperse.

"Munroe is a powerful man.”

"I think you are underestimating Athena's strength of character," Caitlin said. "She wants

us to stay, and I know she can stand up to her brother if she has to.”

Harry blotted his face again. "I hope you are right, Caitlin. I do so wish to please the

poor child. I confess that I have developed a certain

fondness for her.”

"Calculated risks are occasionally necessary," Ulysses said, scrutinizing Morgan with

interest, "if for no other reason than to preserve one's honor and keep one's word.”

"Honor," Caitlin snorted. "When did honor ever get you anything, Uly? This is simply the

right thing to do.”

"Your reaction seems somewhat personal, Firefly.”

"What's done is done," Harry said. "We've only to go ahead as best we can.”

"And someone must explain to Athena what has happened," Caitlin added. "We will

have to find an excuse to get her back to the lot. I'm certain her brother did not plan to

tell her until we had left Denver.”

"Maybe she won't defy him," Morgan said. "Her life depends on her brother's money. If

he chooses, he could take away what freedom she has.”

Caitlin stared at him in surprise. "It is true that he tries to protect her too much. I don't

know what Niall Munroe is so afraid of, but he is not a—" She flushed and hurried on.

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"You spoke up for staying, Morgan. You want to help Athena—you even called her

brave, yet you have no faith in her ability to fight for what she wants?”

She could see him withdrawing into himself again, denying the feelings that had

prompted him to speak up for Athena with such uncharacteristic passion.

"What did you and Athena speak about in the backyard, Morgan?" Caitlin asked. "Are

you testing her? Do you want her to fail, so that you'll have no reason to care?”

His head gave an almost imperceptible jerk. "Munroe thinks he can buy anything or

anyone," he said through his teeth. "We are not his lapdogs.”

"Neither is his sister. But if you're right, and Athena is willing to let us go—what then?”

"We must abide by her wishes, of course," Harry answered. "It is days like these when I

wish I had retired years ago.”

"Oh, Harry—" Caitlin paused when she realized that Morgan was halfway to the front

door. "Where are you going?”

"To tell Miss Munroe," he said without breaking stride. "To find out what she wants.”

Caitlin thought quickly. Who was better suited to deliver a clandestine message? And

who is more unpredictable when his heart is involved? "You can't just walk into her

house. You do not even know where she lives.”

"I'll find out.”

"If Niall sees you—”

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"He will not see me." As if to prove his point, he seemed to vanish even before he

reached the door.

There's no turning back now, Caitlin thought, haunted by that sense of destiny that had

first come with Morgan Holt and returned with Niall Munroe.

"This is a hazardous game, Firefly," Ulysses said, stepping up beside her. "Morgan is

not one to be made a pawn of fate.”

"I thought you didn't believe in fate.”

"Only when it trifles with those I consider my friends.”

She rested her hand on his shoulder. "Then, my friend, let me keep the faith for all of

us.”

Athena had never longed quite so much for the ability to pace. Her body was racked

with shivers born of conflicting emotions that sought to pull her one way and then the

other. The walls of her peaceful, silent room seemed about to crush her like some

medieval implement of torture.

If she had faced only a single quandary this evening, she might have dealt with it easily

enough. But the incidents had come as thick and fast as snowflakes in a mountain

blizzard—first the near escape in the big top, then Morgan's incredible exhibition

the

disconcerting conversation that followed

and finally Niall's sudden appearance and

irrational behavior.

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She was still angry with Niall. It was easier to nurse anger than face the other feelings

that pummeled her from every direction. But even the anger frightened her, for only in

recent weeks had she allowed herself to become angry for any personal reason.

Anger on behalf of the downtrodden was useful, and justified; anger due to hurt pride, or

resentment, was the worst sort of selfishness. Athena knew it, and yet the knowledge

did not seem to help.

She rolled her chair to the window. Niall had escorted Miss Hockensmith home, but he

had not yet returned.

The passage of hours had not helped Athena's mood. She continued to relive the

moment when Niall had come for her at the lot—how he had barely looked at her,

dismissed her like a child, and ordered her away. How he had spoken to Caitlin, with

less courtesy than to a servant. And when they had reached the privacy of home, he

had refused to give any explanation for his behavior.

She had felt humiliated, treated so by her own brother in front of a friend. For Caitlin had

become a friend, despite all the differences between them.

In a strange way, Caitlin reminded Athena of herself when she was younger—rash,

passionate, refusing any concession to femininity or propriety—quick to give her loyalty,

and her heart. What must she think after the way Niall had acted? She would believe

that Athena was under her brother's thumb.

Athena had done nothing to dispel that impression. She had let Niall bully her back to

the carriage, endured Cecily Hockensmith's sympathetic looks, and tormented herself

with speculation upon Niall's business with the troupe.

What had gotten into him?

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She picked up a bit of needlework she had left on a side table and set it back down

again a moment later. Surely Niall couldn't have guessed what Morgan really was. She

had been the only one privileged with that secret. That amazing, wonderful secret.

I am not alone.

That single, foolish thought came to her again and again, beating out a rhythm as