Born with a damaged heart, Leanna Weston has lived a sheltered life with little chance at adventure. When she hears that Finvarra's Circus is coming to her small town, she sneaks off to witness the magic first hand, sure that this is her only chan...
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Minerva's pitch black tent was hitched in the shades furthest from the Big Top. Even with the dragon's flames, Leanna would have missed it had she not known where to look. Light and shadow conspired, and in the darkness, the surrounding shrubs and tent were one and the same. Following the beads of dew on the ground—a gleaming path of pearls under the fire—Leanna approached it hesitantly, her footsteps crunching in the quiet.
A stake was stabbed into the ground at the entrance, curved to a loop at the tip. Dangling from the hoop was a silver bell. Leanna stared at the bell and paused. No light shone from within the tent. Was Minerva still asleep? Leanna rubbed her skirt between her fingers in thought, which reminded her: Kioyo had stolen the garments she presently wore. What would she tell Minerva? More, would Minerva be cross? Leanna exhaled sharply. How badly she wished Kioyo hadn't gone beyond the crystals. If not, he'd be there beside her, ready to meet Minerva. If not, he'd be there beside her... safe.
Leanna swallowed away the thought and stepped away from the bell. It would be best to change and then return, she decided.
"Are you going to stand there all night or are you going to ring the bell?"
Leanna yelped and whirled to the feminine voice behind her, to the older woman standing a slight up the path. Though her face was shrouded, Leanna quickly noticed her pleated red skirt, various shades of the color added in layers. A coined belt adorned her waist, and sang a dangling song in her approach. Upon closer inspection, a violet bandana covered her head, but a rigid bun at the back told Leanna the woman's hair was silvery white. When beside her, Leanna saw the same coins dangled from her puffed sleeves. Romani, she deduced, like Vicente. Leanna smiled kindly. It would be like him to have such a beautiful wife given the lovely music he composed.
Leanna let out a nervous giggle and stepped away from the bell. "Oh, I intend to ring, but I can't tell if Minerva is there, or if she is asleep. I would hate to wake her. Though Bertrand say she sleeps during the day lest she turns to a ball of fire in sun light. He even told me not to prick my finger while here." Leanna laughed lightly and turned back to the tent. "Come to think of it, they make it sound like she's a—"
A gust of wind whipped Leanna's hair over her face to the sound of jingling coins. Brushing it away madly, she spun to look behind her, to where the woman stood. She was gone.
"Make it sound like she's a vampire?" the woman's voice whispered in the winds.
Dread pooled at Leanna's joints. Turning slowly to the voice at the tent, the woman—no doubt Minerva, stood at the door. A catlike smile spread on her ruby red lips. It was a mischievous and slightly inhuman smile.
Leanna swallowed, Minerva's direct gaze making her shiver. "You're not Vicente's wife," she murmured.
Minerva shook her head slowly. "But I am a vampire." She lifted the tent flap aside, her perfectly sculpted brow arching. "Now that that's been sorted, shall we?"
