During the last thirty minutes of the show, the back yard was transformed from a cluttered mess of props, discarded costumes and lawn chairs into a comfortable, inviting lounge. All the circus troupers who weren’t performing helped set it up. Some raised a black fabric canopy to cover the area while others carted out padded rugs and stuffed seating from their trailers to replace the hay bales they’d been using before. String lights provided the only illumination over the area, casting multicolored patterns on the ground in the shades of red and purple and creating an enticing ambiance for the invitees.
Adding to the hypnotic quality of the space, sensuous music pulsed at a perfect tempo for both dancing or relaxing, coaxing all who listened to give in to its bewitching beat. Even some of the monsters swayed as they arranged their epicurean den in preparation for their dinner to arrive.
Around the edges of the yard, a number of small tables had been set up with stands of incense that burned steadily. Each one gave off a strong aroma of exotic spices, and the colorful smoke trailed away in wisps that seemed to tumble and twirl slowly through the air. The soothing scent was pleasant to breathe, but it also had a purpose: Every stick of incense was laced with chemical compound to make the party guests lower their inhibitions.
While the creatures of Cirque du Sombre were unaffected by the drug, the humans who breathed the smoke for too long would eventually lose their senses and later, their memories. Their altered states of minds made them more agreeable to feed upon, and the monsters didn’t have to worry about being discovered, because as far as anyone outside the circus was concerned, nothing had happened. Their prey would simply wake up the next morning with hangover-like symptoms, assume they’d gotten blackout drunk at the party and return to their normal lives without ever realizing they’d been food for a troupe of supernatural beings. It was the perfect cover.
Once the scene had been set, all that was left for everyone to wait for the chosen audience members to arrive.
Finished pitching his share of the work, Rayth flopped onto an orange beanbag chair and entertained himself by tossing a pebble he’d found on the ground from his left hand to his right. Oscar was off somewhere with the other brownies in the group, and he knew he’d just get snapped at again if he tried talking with anyone else—they were all especially grumpy right before their feedings—so he decided to keep to himself until the invitees showed up.
After a few minutes, he grew bored of the repetitive activity, so he dropped the pebble and let his head loll back, staring up at the canopy over the back yard with a mildly dazed expression. Even though he was a half vampire, the incense always got to him a little. His mind was fuzzy and his reflexes felt slow, as if he’d had one too many drinks at a party. He was just glad he had enough supernatural blood running through his veins that he wasn’t taken down by the drug like the humans they fed on.
He didn’t have to wait long before the first of the after party guests began to trickle in through the back of the big top.
As always, it seemed Frieda’s legion of faeries had selected a young crowd. Every man and woman who stepped into the back yard couldn’t have been older than their mid-twenties. At their physical peak, they would make fine meals for the troupe of bloodthirsty monsters just waiting to dine on them.
Rayth watched from where he was sitting as the new arrivals were immediately plucked away by the closest members of the circus and led to the open space in the middle of the yard to dance.
The hungriest among them always waited by the curtain to claim their prey before anyone else, while the rest hung back to wait their turns. Like the pecking order of a wolf pack, they found it easier to be patient and let the less controlled creatures go first rather than fight over the first few people to show up. There would be plenty for everyone anyway. Frieda always made sure of that, so not a single mouth in her circus would go unfed.
Once all the monsters who’d been stalking the curtain were gone, Rayth watched the fabric flaps more diligently, waiting for someone whom he could feed on to appear.
The first face through the curtain belonged to a young man who looked to be about twenty-two. He lingered by the big top as he took in the sight of the back yard: the pulsing low lights, the exotic, smoky air and the mingling performers and guests who were already dancing in the center or getting comfortable on the surrounding cushioned seats.
He only had a minute to take it all in before Briella pounced on him like a wildcat.
From a distance, Rayth could see her flash a coy smile as she dragged him by the hand to one of the fabric loveseats on the other side of the yard. Her method of persuasion had always been to flirt until her victim grew intoxicated from the burning incense.
Uninterested in what she was doing, Rayth turned away from the werewolf to keep watching the curtain, drumming his fingers against the edge of the beanbag chair. If someone walked through that would make good prey for him, he wanted to be ready to get to them before any of the others. He might not have been starving, but he was still hungry, after all.
Another minute passed and the fabric flap shifted again to admit another invitee.
Rayth sat up a little straighter as a woman entered this time. Or… not a woman. A girl who couldn’t have been older than her late teens. He blinked, tracking her with his eyes. With ragged, dirt-stained clothes and brightly dyed hair, she looked like the bass player for a high school rock band. He wondered how she had gotten into the circus’s after party when the faeries only selected people between the ages of twenty-one and twenty-five.
Whatever the case, he didn’t have time to think about it. He could already see one of the shades eyeing her from off to the side. If he wanted to get to her first, he had to act fast.
He was just about to stand up from his seat when he noticed something else that made him freeze. Another member of the circus was already approaching the punk rock girl: Frieda.
Rayth clicked his tongue disappointedly and sank back down in his chair. If Cirque du Sombre was a wolf pack, she was the alpha. Whoever the faerie chose as her prey was off limits to everyone else.
Luckily, it didn’t matter that Frieda had swiped the girl, because another female guest stepped in shortly after her.
This time, Rayth didn’t waste a second.
Standing up from the beanbag chair—and trying not to teeter from the effects of the chemicals he’d inhaled—the half vampire made his way across the yard to claim her before his competition had a chance. From the corner of his eye, he could see the shade curl his black lips into a snarl, but to his relief, the other creature made no move to intervene.
When he reached the new girl’s side, he noticed that she was too caught up in looking around to realize he was there. He smirked to himself, deciding to have a little fun with her.
“It’s something else, isn’t it?” he said, causing her to jump at the sound of his sudden voice.
The girl inhaled sharply and spun around with wide eyes. As her gaze landed on him, her fright was replaced with recognition. “You’re the knife thrower from the show,” she stated, looking him over with new intrigue. “The, uh… Grim Reaper, right?”
“Guilty as charged,” Rayth grinned, not bothering to correct her that his stage name was just The Reaper without the Grim.
The girl’s green eyes flickered to his mouth as she noticed his sharp canines. “Man, you guys really go all out on your costumes, huh?” she mused. “I didn’t even notice the fangs before.” Her gaze drifted back up to meet his, and she knitted her brow. “Or the color contacts.”
“We like to be thorough. It’s all part of the illusion,” Rayth lied with an air of mystery, taking a step away from the curtain and indicating with a tilt of his head for her to follow him. Of course, she did, and he led her over to the center of the yard, making it clear to the rest of the monsters that this one was his.
“Is that why you don’t dress down for the after party?” the girl teased as they walked.
“Of course,” he offered his hand to her in a silent indication to dance. “This wouldn’t be nearly as memorable if we all looked like you, would it?”
“I guess you’ve got a point,” she admitted, studying his face again as she took his hand. “It is pretty realistic.”
“Thank you,” Rayth flashed his fangs in another smile.
Finding the rhythm of the music, he led her through the steps of a simple dance. He was capable of more complex moves, but since the incense left him feeling nearly drunk, he didn’t want to push his luck and wind up losing his balance. All he had to do was keep her distracted long enough for the drug to affect her like it did him. Once she was too inebriated to understand what was going on, he could have his fill of her blood.
It was just a waiting game now.
“Are you certain she’s the one?” Frieda stood near the edge of the back yard with her hypnotic eyes fixed on the curtain. Some of the first humans had already arrived, but none of their faces were the one she was searching for. Usually, she waited with the rest of her entourage to feed on a victim of her own, but tonight, she had a different goal in mind, one that was far more important than filling her stomach.
“Quite,” the woman beside her croaked. As an oracle surviving from the time of the ancient Greeks, she could best be described as a hag. Her advanced age left her in a decrepit form with leathery skin, wispy white hair and gnarled joints that made other people wince painfully when she bent them. Her eyes were milky from cataracts as well, and it was questionable how much she was still able to see.
“The signs all point to her,” the crone went on in a voice like a tracheostomy patient. “The signs are never wrong.”
“Very well then,” Frieda murmured. She trusted the seer to point out the right girl. The oracle had been predicting her arrival for months. Tonight was the night they had been waiting for.
Almost as if on cue, the curtain pulled back, and the blue-haired teenager entered the yard.
There you are, Frieda’s red lips curled upward in a triumphant smile. She stepped away from her watch post to approach the girl before any of her creatures got to her first. There were already a few that were eyeing her hungrily, and she didn’t want to have to bother separating her from someone else whom had chosen her to be their dinner.
The ringmistress’s commanding presence alone was enough to ward off the creatures that had taken an interest in the girl, and she reached her without opposition.
“Welcome, my dear,” she greeted her warmly, her rich voice filled with soothing faerie magic. “Did you enjoy the show?”
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