Freakshow

Chapter Nine

The day after the kiss was a fog for me. We'd pulled apart when Rose came looking for me. My cheeks had been flushed red and I'd stuttered an excuse to Rose and Cara and feigned illness to rush back to our trailer and go to bed.

Of course I hadn't been ill, but I'd lain under my covers and replayed the kiss over and over in my head until I'd fallen asleep.

I was able to stay in bed a little too long and had killed time trying to find any information I could about Cairo. I wasn't able to find much, I wasn't even sure if he shared his father's last name, Rojas. I did find some information about his return to the circus on a website devoted to circus news. Strange that there was such a thing, I never would have imagined it.

There was a knock at the door just after I finished my shower. I yelled, "Hang on," and pulled on a pair of yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt. I opened the door and found Orion standing there.

"I would like to go over your routine," he said, "follow me now."

I scrambled to slip on my shoes and ran after him. He was the kind of man you didn't say no to. At least not directly to his face, in regards to Cairo, I would tell him no a million times over.

It was disconcerting to me, the tents were all arranged in much the same was as they had been in Vancouver, but everything was just slightly off. Orion was fast, his strides lengthy. I had a hard time keeping up with him and was relieved when he stopped at the performers tent.

He swept open the door flap and strode up to the stage. "Everyone leave," he announced. People rushed away, picking up their equipment and costumes as they exited. They glanced at me as they passed, a mixture of curiosity and confusion on their faces.

I stood facing Orion in the center of the stage and waited for him to speak.

He looked me up and down and I was sure he found me lacking. His expression was unreadable, but he exhaled a sigh full of impatient disgust.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked, my defiant streak kicking in.

"I'm going to use you in my act. You will be outfitted with a costume and have a medic on standby in case of serious injury."

"What is your act?"

"I throw knives," he said slowly and stretched his mouth into the semblance of a smile. He tore off his jacket and revealed a double knife belt, knives of several different varieties tucked along them.

"You've got to be shitting me," I said under my breath. Of all the things he could want to do with me, knives were the one thing I truly hated. Knives represented danger to me from day one. Knives represented stabbing and cutting and accidents beyond count, rending limbs and slicing off fingers. Every fear I'd tucked away since my childhood came rising to the surface and I backed away from him. "No way," I said, "I can't do it."

"Stop," he replied in a low forceful voice. I obeyed. I hated that I obeyed, but he had that power over people. From his own son and second in command, all the way down the food chain at Cirque, people jumped when Orion commanded it.

I held up my arms, with the bandage and myriad of scars and puckered flesh from wounds long past. "Knives and I don't mix," I said, "I can't risk it. I won't feel it if you hit anything."

"That's the point," he said and slowly withdrew the longest knife from the bottom of the belt. The sound of metal on leather was like a snake on sand. A dry hiss of warning and it set my nerves on edge.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I want to cut you, for the show," he said and crossed the stage between us in three long strides. "I want to hit you at some point, to get the crowd on the edge of their seats. I want to make you bleed."