Page 13 of Chaos Carnival (Cirque de Sanguine #2)

Chapter 12: Twilight Transit

Tess

The fluorescent lights flickered overhead like dying stars, casting sickly shadows across the empty platform. Four trains, two buses, and a cab driver who definitely wasn't human later, brought us to this forgotten stop outside Paris. My muscles screamed from constant movement, exhaustion clawed at my eyes with rusty hooks, and I couldn’t hold in my frustration anymore.

After typing out a reply, Maverick shoved his phone back in his pocket with enough force that I worried for its survival. “The others got out. We have a location to meet them.” He paused, then added, “Stone and Lux say the tattoos seem to be working—they're not as drained as they should be after all this.”

He looked up at me, dark eyes scanning my face with that mix of concern and amusement that was uniquely his. “You look like roadkill.” He dropped onto the bench beside me, his shoulder pressing mine with deliberate weight. The solidity of him helped chase away some of the bone-deep weariness that had settled in, though I'd never admit that to his already oversized ego.

“Fuck off.” After the billion-hour journey, which followed our failure to save my best friend, I was exhausted, hangry, and he was infuriating me. I didn't bother moving away, though. The metal bench was cold, and his presence grounded me despite myself. “You're not exactly cover model material yourself right now.”

“I'm always cover model material.” His attempt at his usual arrogance fell flat as another tremor wracked his body. “It's a curse.”

“Yeah, speaking of curses...” I shifted, letting him lean more heavily against me despite my irritation. “Think we’ve lost the hunters after your little teleporting stunt back there? Or should we run a few more circles around France?”

His tense gaze lingered, sharp and predatory. “You're the one who warned me we needed to be sure.”

“Whatever. You seem to be a fan of making unilateral decisions about my life. Thought I'd try it out.”

“Tess—” A shiver cut him off. His hand found mine, ice-cold fingers intertwining with bruising force.

“How bad?” I asked, hating the concern that crept into my voice.

“Scale of one to ten?” His head dropped to my shoulder, breath ghosting across my neck. “About a twenty, but I've had worse hangovers.”

“Bullshit.” My free hand found its way into his hair, and he made a sound that was half groan, half purr. “You're literally turning into a seraph popsicle. Once we find proper equipment again, you're getting tattooed. Both of us are.”

“Your concern is touching.” His words dripped sarcasm, but his grip on my hand tightened. “Here I thought you didn't care.”

“I don't.” The lie tasted bitter. Addie's face flashed through my mind—vacant eyes, twisted smile as she danced for Ivan—and my chest constricted. “But I need you functional if we're going to save my friend. You know, the one who got captured while you were busy playing possessive asshole?”

He lifted his head, uncanny eyes meeting mine with frightful intensity. “You really want to go there?”

“Where else is there to go? You've dragged us halfway across France, you're barely conscious, and Addie's still—” My voice cracked. “We're wasting time.”

“Trust me.” His voice dropped to a growl that sent goosebumps prickling along my arms. Fear or desire, I couldn't tell anymore. Maybe both.

“Trust you?” I laughed, the sound sharp as broken glass. “That worked out so well last time.”

“You're alive, aren't you?”

“Alive and cursed. What a bargain.”

His fingers tightened in my hair—when had his hand moved there?—pulling my head back to meet his gaze. “If you want to talk curses, sweetheart, take it up with your past self. I'm not the one who bound us together for an eternity of misery.”

The words slapped me like a wet palm and I flinched. His grip loosened, but the damage was done. We both knew he'd struck a nerve.

The train’s whistle pierced the tension like a knife, and we both flinched. Maverick's grip loosened, but the wickedness in his eyes promised this conversation wasn't over.

“Our ride's here.” He stood, swaying slightly. “Ready to see Paris?”

“Ready to get this over with.” I grabbed my bag, ignoring the way my hands shook. “Let's go fix your mess. Again.”

His smile was all predator. “Our mess now, babycakes. Get used to it.”

The train pulled into the station with a screech of metal on metal, and I wondered which was more dangerous, the hunters on our trail or the growing discord between us.

The train car reeked of stale cigarettes and broken dreams as most of them do. I leaned my back against the cold metal wall, scanning our fellow passengers: an elderly woman clutching her shopping bag like a shield, two teenagers sharing earbuds in their bubble of oblivion, a businessman typing with aggressive determination.

Any of them could be hunters waiting to strike.

Maverick's shoulder slammed into mine as the train lurched, drawing a sharp hiss through his teeth. His hand shot out to grip the overhead rail, knuckles white.

“Can't handle a little turbulence, mighty seraph?” I kept my voice low, acid-sweet. Like I hadn't noticed the tremors wracking his body or the way the veins were climbing his neck like hungry vines.

“Just making sure you don't fall.” He flashed that arrogant grin that made me want to slap him. And then kiss him. “Since you're so delicate and all.”

“Right. Because I'm the one who got taken down by a single hunter.” I shifted my weight, letting him lean on me while making it look casual. I knew I was being unfair, but I couldn’t stop my mouth from spewing toxic sludge. “Tell me again how that happened? Too busy showing off to dodge?”

His laugh turned into a barely suppressed groan as another tremor hit. He slumped closer, his forehead pressing to my temple. “You're never going to let that go, are you?”

“Not until you admit you fucked up.” His heartbeat stuttered against my skin. Too slow. Too cold. “This is what happens when you try to play hero.”

“Someone had to stop you from charging in like a unicorn with a death wish.” His breath brushed my ear like a gentle breeze, stirring unease in my chest. “Or did you forget the part where you were about to walk straight into their trap?”

“No, I just remember the part where your 'rescue' landed us on a train to Paris while my best friend is still Ivan's living puppet.” My fingers found his wrist, checking his pulse. “At least my stupid plans don't involve getting poisoned by ancient celestial weapons.”

“No, yours just involve sacrificing yourself to psychopaths.” His free hand slid to my waist, grip bruising. Possessive. “Face it, Tess. Without me, you'd be dead or worse by now.”

“Without you, I'd be safe in my shop, designing tattoos and living a normal life.”

“Boring.”

“Alive. Safe.”

His fingers dug into my hip. “You are alive. And you're going to stay that way.”

“For now.” I scanned the car again, my stomach twisting as we lurched to a stop. “If we survive this, I'm done. No more supernatural bullshit. No more curses. No more you.”

“Liar.” He nuzzled closer, his voice dropping to that frightful purr that always preceded trouble. “You'd miss me.”

“Like the chains of a dungeon.”

“Mm, kinky.” His lips brushed my ear. “We could try it out. But I want more. I’m so much worse than you think.”

Another violent shiver ripped through him, and this time, he couldn't hide the grunt of pain. I caught him before he could fall, my hands fisting in his jacket.

“Worse at taking care of yourself, maybe.” The words came out sharper than intended. “How long till the poison spreads all the way?”

“Worried about me?”

“About getting stuck in Paris with a dead seraph.”

His chuckle was more ice than humor. “You're not getting rid of me that easily. We're cursed. Bound to each other, remember?”

“Yeah.” I pushed him back upright, ignoring how cold his skin felt. “Lucky me.”

The train screeched around a curve, and I caught another passenger checking his phone, the screen flickering with symbols that definitely weren't human. Fuck.

“Maverick.” I kept my voice steady, casual. “How many stops until Paris?”

He followed my gaze, body tensing. “Too many.”

The train lurched around another bend, throwing me against his chest. His arms locked around me like steel bands, his grip almost desperate. A whiff of leather and winter storms filled my nose, but underneath was something wrong, a metallic tang that made my stomach clench. The poison was getting worse, and we were running out of time.

Maverick’s breath caressed my ear. “Just act natural.”

“Natural?” I shifted, trying to find stable footing as the train swayed. “Like I regularly cuddle with dying seraph while hunters… hunt?”

“Could be worse.” His laugh turned into a harsh cough that frosted the air between us. “Could be that time in Devil—“

“We agreed never to talk about that again.” I angled closer, using the movement to check the rest of the car.

Maverick's hands slid lower, pulling me flush with him. The casual intimacy of the gesture made my breath catch, even as another tremor raced through his body.

“Play along,” he murmured, nuzzling my neck. Ice crystals formed where his lips touched my skin. “Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable.”

“You're getting worse.” I tangled my fingers in his hair, making it look like desire instead of checking his temperature. Frost coated my palm. “And your brilliant plan is to make out?”

“Always, monstre. Got a better idea?” His teeth grazed my pulse point, sending electricity down my spine despite the cold.

The shadows pressed in, stuttering flashes of streetlights etched through grimy windows. Maverick's arms tightened around me as another shudder wracked his body, his bluish fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise.

“We need to complete the ritual.” His words skimmed my neck. “Before the poison finishes me off.”

Guilt pierced my gut like a dagger. Addie's vacant eyes haunted me, but Maverick's deteriorating condition was on me, too. If I hadn't bound us together in that past life, if I hadn't gotten involved with him this time—

“Stop.” His fingers caught my chin, grip bruising as he forced my face up. Even in the darkness, his eyes burned with unholy fire. “Your guilt tastes like ash, and I've had enough poison for one day. We save each other, then we save her. That's the deal.”

“I didn't agree to any deal.” I tried to jerk away, but his grip held firm. “In fact, I'm getting real tired of you making decisions about my life.”

“Then stop making it so damn necessary.” His lips brushed my ear, sending a sharp tingle up my neck. “Or haven't you noticed? Every time you try to sacrifice yourself, it just makes things worse for everyone.”

“You're one to talk about making things worse.” I twisted in his grip until we were face to face. “How's that celestial poison treating you? Feeling heroic yet?”

His smile was all teeth. “About as heroic as binding someone's soul for eternity out of spite.”

The barb hit home, but I refused to flinch. “Keep it up, and I'll let you freeze.”

“No, you won't.” His certainty made me want to scream. “You need me too much.”

“I need you like I need a fork in the eyeball.”

Maverick stumbled as we hit a rough patch of track, his weight nearly taking us both down. I caught him, turning it into what I hoped looked like an embrace rather than desperate support.

“Getting handsy in public?” His voice fractured like porcelain struck too hard. “Didn't know you cared.”

“Shut up and try to look less dead.” I shifted to take more of his weight, my fingers finding bare skin at his collar. Frost patterns spread from my touch. “You're practically radiating 'easy target' right now.”

“You say the sweetest things.” He nuzzled my neck as the tremors wracked his body. “Next you'll tell me my eyes are pretty when they're rolling back in my head.”

The Eiffel Tower loomed ahead, its iron skeleton wrapped in protective wards that blazed like purple lightning to my phantasmal sight. Below that, the shadows moved like serpents in the grass.

“Your eyes will be prettier if they stay in your skull.” I inched closer, making it look intimate instead of defensive. “Think you can make it three more stops without collapsing?”

“For you?” His laugh ghosted over my skin. “Anything. Except maybe dancing. Or walking. Or—” He broke off with a grunt of pain.

“Breathing?” I suggested, sliding my hand under his jacket to share more body heat. His skin felt too cold, too clammy. “Because that seems to be giving you trouble too.”

“Only when I look at you.” He caught my wrist, his grip painfully tight. “Though, that might be mutual.”

“Might be your ego.” But I didn't pull away. The frost was spreading faster now, crackling across his jaw like hungry vines.

The train lights flickered, plunging us into darkness. Maverick's grip became crushing.

“Fuck,” he breathed against my neck. The veins were spreading faster now, spidering across his jaw. “Remember what I said about it getting worse?”

“Let me guess.” I nestled in, urging my body heat to slow the poison's progression. “It just got worse?”

His laugh was more ice than sound. “Always knew you were the smart one.”