Page 51 of Chaos Carnival (Cirque de Sanguine #2)

Tess

The visions were behaving tonight, settling into a gentle hum beneath my skin rather than their usual cacophony. I leaned into the trailer's window, watching the sunset paint the carnival grounds in shades of gold and shadow.

A year had passed since my resurrection, since my family had bound themselves to darkness to keep me. The guilt still lingered, but it had softened, like a scar that only ached when storm clouds brewed overhead.

Sometimes I dreamed of those final moments when I'd wielded reality, when the threads had sung through my blood and bent to my will. But that power had died with my second death, leaving me with only echoes—these visions of possible futures, and an ability to sense the energies that flowed through our dark carnival.

Maverick's arms slipped around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder. “What's in your head, monstre?”

I smiled, leaning back against his chest. The mate bond hummed between us, carrying echoes of his contentment. Even without the threads, I could feel the way our energies intertwined, a simpler magic but no less precious. “Fate is being kind tonight. Showing me gentle futures.”

“No impending doom? No cosmic horrors waiting to devour us all?” His tone was light, but I felt his relief. He remembered the bad days, when the visions had nearly torn my mind apart. We'd both had to adjust to this new normal, me learning to live with diminished power, him learning to trust that I was truly stable now. To some extent.

I traced my fingers along his arm, feeling the familiar warmth of his skin. “Just us. The family. The circus growing stronger.” I paused, letting the vision wash over me. “Though I do still see the raven witch coming.”

His hum rumbled against my back. “Some things never change.”

No, they didn't. We’d agreed not to bring it up to Lux again. I didn’t know when it would happen, nor what it really meant. Maybe he’d just fall in love with her and disappear. It did no good torturing him with it.

We weren't the same people who'd started this journey—me no longer the reality-bending goddess I'd briefly been, him no longer the protector who could shield me from everything. But we'd found our balance now, we’d built something beautiful from the corruption.

“Not tonight.” I turned in his arms, studying his face. Sometimes I still felt echoes of other possibilities – versions where I'd stayed dead, where he'd been forced to live without me. But this time, this place, was the one that mattered. “Glad Stone took care of those hunters in Milwaukee.”

His fingers traced lines on my skin, grounding me in the present. “Trying to track our movement patterns. They didn't expect him to be waiting.”

“They never would have found us anyway.” I caught his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm. “We're well hidden. But...” I waved vaguely at the air, which seemed to shimmer.

“You're becoming more at peace with it,” he pointed out, his free hand cupping my face. “My brilliant, monstrous mate.”

The hunger that bound our family together stirred at his touch, a pleasant warmth rather than the desperate need it had once been. We'd learned to control it, to channel it into our performances. To make art from our catastrophe.

“Sometimes I still wonder...” I began, but he cut me off with a kiss.

“Don't.” His voice was gentle but firm. “Look what we've built.” He gestured toward the window, where our carnival sprawled across the grounds. Even from here, the energy hummed through every tent, every attraction.

Protection woven from fear and wonder.

I pressed closer, breathing in his familiar scent. “I love you,” I whispered against his skin. “In every reality, in every possible future. I love you.”

He pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around me tight as he kissed me. When we broke apart, his eyes had darkened with emotion and desire. “Shows starting soon,” he murmured.

“Mmm. You should get changed.” I tugged playfully at his t-shirt. “The infamous Ringmaster can't perform in casual wear.”

“Says who?” But he was already reaching for the midnight blue coat that made the night dance.

A knock at the door interrupted us. “You two better be decent!” Addie's voice called. “Everyone's gathering backstage for the pre-show ritual!”

“We're coming!” I called back, smoothing Maverick's collar as he shrugged on the coat.

Backstage was already buzzing when we arrived. The Sisters were stretching in mid-air, their bodies flickering between forms as they warmed up. Cross stood in his corner, bones dancing between his fingers as he practiced his newest sequence. The hunger hummed through our shared connection, eager but controlled.

“There you are!” Addie bounded over, her starlight dress rippling with dimensional tears. “You have to see what I figured out!” She held out her hand and the air split around her fingers, showing far away glimpses of the universe.

“Careful with those,” Stone warned, his armor catching the light as he approached. “We don't need another Milwaukee incident.”

“That wasn't my fault,” Addie protested.

“And they got exactly what they deserved anyway,” Lux added with a dark smile.

Maverick and I laughed together as we watched the exchange. We'd come so far from those early days. Now we moved like a well-oiled machine, each person's abilities complementing the others'.

“Places in ten,” Lilith announced, materializing from nowhere. Her ancient eyes swept over our group, a hint of pride in her expression. “The energy tonight is... promising.”

Stone cracked his knuckles. “Full moon always brings out the sensitive ones. Their fear tastes sweeter.”

“Just remember to save some for the finale,” I reminded them, watching the auras around each performer.

“Spoilsport,” Addie teased, but her grin was fierce. She'd embraced her darker nature with surprising enthusiasm, once she'd gotten past the initial shock.

Maverick cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention. Even after a year, he still commanded the room effortlessly. “Same formation as last night. Cross, dial up the bone dragon's teeth a bit—we had three fainters in the front row.”

“And that fear spike was magnificent,” Cross agreed, already adjusting the creature's skull.

“But save it for the finale,” Maverick replied. “Speaking of which...” He turned to me. “Are the energies stable enough for the mirror maze tonight?”

I closed my eyes and reached out with my senses. “They're cooperating so far. Just...” I met each person's eyes in turn. “Stay within the mapped paths.”

Maverick stalked toward the ring, his coat swirling with shadows that had a life of their own.

The hunger in our bond pulsed with anticipation.

“Your mate has certainly embraced his role,” Lilith observed, materializing beside me. “I remember when he could barely control his own darkness.”

Oscar's crystal skull gleamed from his perch on a nearby trunk. “Indeed. The transformation from brooding seraph to ringmaster of nightmares is quite the character arc. Almost worthy of one of my plays.”

“Almost?” I raised an eyebrow at the skull.

“Well, darling, your circus lacks the witty social commentary that made my work truly transcendent.” Oscar's voice dripped with theatrical disappointment. “Though I suppose watching supernatural beings feed on fear has its own... artistic merit.”

Lilith's lips curved into a knowing smile. “The art is in the precision. Notice how he draws them in, makes them lean forward despite their instincts screaming to run. That's talent.”

“And practice,” I added, as Maverick began his opening speech and the familiar surge of power. The audience's collective intake of breath rippled through the space.

“Practice indeed.” Lilith's ancient eyes glittered. “Teaching you lot to channel darkness properly has been far more entertaining than any of my past tutorials.”

Oscar sighed. “At least this troupe has style. Even if their literary references need work.”

“Not everyone can quote your entire bibliography, Oscar,” I reminded him.

“More's the pity.” The skull's eyes flashed. “Oh, look—he's doing that thing with the shadows again. Very dramatic.”

From my position behind the curtain, I watched Maverick run into the center ring in a swirl of glitter. His dark azure coat caught the spotlights, making the darkness dance across his shoulders like living things.

My breath caught as his voice boomed through the tent, rich and commanding. Even after all this, he still made my heart skip when he slipped into his ringmaster persona. The air shimmered around him, amplifying his natural charisma into something tantalizingly macabre.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and ghouls, welcome to Cirque de Sanguine!”

I felt the ripple of fear-tinged excitement course through the audience. Every gasp, every quickened heartbeat strengthened our defenses.

“Prepare yourselves for a journey into the darkest corners of your imagination, where fear takes center stage and nightmares come to life!”

His eyes flickered briefly to where I stood hidden, a private smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Here you will be tickled by carnival—or carnal—delights, which have all been thoroughly vetted by a team of relentlessly psychotic demons, to ensure that your experience here is the most horrifying that it can be!”

I suppressed a laugh at that. Lilith would be rolling her eyes backstage at being referred to as 'relentlessly psychotic.'

“Brace yourself for a spectacle that will feed your nightmares with rocket fuel and leave you questioning the very fabric of reality! That is what you wanted, correct?”

The audience's response was immediate—a mixture of nervous laughter and genuine fear. Perfect.

Maverick swept his arm toward the darkened side entrance. “Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves for The Bone Collector, a man who speaks to the dead through their remains, and crafts monsters from decay!”

Cross shuffled into the ring, his tattered coat trailing wisps of graveyard mist. The ancient cart he pushed creaked ominously, its cargo of bleached bones casting unearthly shadows under the spotlights. I smiled, remembering how the enchantments had taken days to perfect, but the results were worth every moment.

As Cross began his performance, carefully selecting and arranging bones in mid-air, the alchemy hummed with dark energy, responding to his expert manipulation. This was where his true artistry showed—not in the magic itself, but in how he shaped it.

When the beast lunged at the crowd, their terror spiked deliciously. Cross bowed with flourish, and at his signal, the bone creature made its final attack. It dissolved into a cascade of individual bones just before reaching the front row, leaving the audience gasping in relief and exhilarated fear.

We all drank deeply of their emotions, strengthening our protections with each shocked breath and racing heart.

I closed my eyes, savoring every drop and felt the others doing the same. Even Lilith's ancient hunger stirred, pleased with the feast we'd created.

Maverick strode back into the spotlight, his coat rippling with darkness. “Ladies and gentlemen, your terror is... exquisite.” His voice carried just the right hint of wickedness, making several audience members shiver. “But we're far from finished. Allow me to present our aerial artists, the Sisters of Shadow!”

I watched through half-lidded eyes as the Sisters emerged, their forms flickering between solid and illusion.

This was what we'd built together—this beautiful, devilish family of monsters and misfits.

Maverick's pride and satisfaction flowed through our mate bond, mixing with my own contentment. He caught my eye from the ring, sending a private pulse of affection.

I leaned into the curtain, drinking in the atmosphere. Cross stood nearby, still buzzing from his performance. Addie had slipped beside me, her dress casting prismatic wisps of darkness. Together, we watched our family weave their dark magic, safe in the knowledge that we'd found our perfect place in the spaces between light and dark.

From my fortune teller's alcove, I watched our finale unfold with perfect, terrible grace.

Addie took center stage, her Void Dancer costume rippling with dimensional tears. Above, Bex manipulated streams of fire that danced between the Sisters of Shadow's aerial silks. The flames never quite touched them, creating an illusion of demons dancing in Hell's own circus. Cross's bone constructs provided a macabre framework, forming archways and platforms that seemed to defy gravity.

Stone and Lux moved in perfect synchronization at opposite ends of the ring, their crystalline armor and shadow-wings creating an impressive interplay of light and dark. Between them, Zara's fae glamour added a transcendent shimmer to everything it touched.

At the center of it all stood Maverick, resplendent in his perfectly tailored suit. His voice carried through the tent as he directed the controlled chaos, each gesture drawing the eye exactly where he wanted it.

I moved from my alcove right on cue, my dress swishing with each step. The audience's fear spiked as I approached random members, whispering truths that only they could hear.

This was our masterpiece.

A performance that blended real magic with theatrical flair, genuine corruption with carefully crafted illusion. Every movement choreographed to build the perfect crescendo of fear and wonder, leaving our audience questioning what was real.

I slipped away from the finale's aftermath, finding Oscar's crystal skull glowing faintly in my private tent.

“Quite the spectacle you've created, my dear,” his disembodied voice drawled. “I must say, the Victorian penny dreadfuls had nothing on your particular brand of theatrical horror.”

I settled into my chair, absently rolling the edges of my skirt. “You're just jealous you can't join the performance.”

“Please.” His surface flickered with amusement. “I would never debase myself with such melodrama. Though I admit, watching that businessman in the third row nearly soil himself during Cross's act was rather entertaining.”

“And you said you weren’t into horror.” But I couldn't help smiling. Oscar had a way of cutting through all our carefully cultivated mystique.

“I’m a 'discerning critic.' And speaking of criticism—that new trick with the mirror maze? Delightfully wicked. Though perhaps a touch heavy-handed with the existential dread. Sometimes a simple 'boo' is just as effective as showing someone their own death.”

I rolled my eyes. “Says the consciousness trapped in a crystal skull.”

“Precisely why I'm qualified to comment on existential horror.” His glow shimmered with what I recognized as his version of a smirk. “Your little family of monsters has surpassed even my expectations. Who would have thought that the path to artistic transcendence lay through ritualized terror?”

“We provide a service,” I protested, though I couldn't quite keep the amusement from my voice. “People come here wanting to be scared.”

“Oh yes, and you deliver that in spades. Quite clever, really. Wilde approved.”

I watched the last echoes of fear ripple through as the audience filed out, their excited chatter mixing with nervous laughter. The show's energy hummed in my bones, the air thick with lingering magic.

The tent flap rustled as the others entered, still riding their performance high. Addie practically bounced in, her dress still glimmering in the darkness. Cross followed, bones clicking in his pockets, while Bex's hair still smoldered faintly from her fire dance.

“Did you see their faces during the mirror maze?” Addie gushed. “I thought that one guy was going to pass out!”

“The fear spike was exquisite,” Cross agreed, absently reshaping a finger bone.

Before I could respond, Maverick strode in, still radiating energy from his performance. He made straight for me, taking my face in his hands and his lips found mine in a fierce kiss that set the room on fire. I melted into him, the lingering adrenaline and magic.

“Get a room, you two!” Addie called out, but the smile rang clear.

Maverick pulled back just enough to rest his forehead to mine. “You were bewitching tonight,” he murmured, his thumbs stroking my cheeks.

I nestled deeper into his embrace as Stone and Lux entered, their forces crackling with post-performance satisfaction.

“Perimeter's clear,” Stone reported, rolling his shoulders. “And the wards are stronger than ever. That finale really got them going.”

Lux agreed, sprawling gracefully onto one of the cushioned chairs. His eyes were still fever-bright from feeding.

The enchantment pulsed contentedly, gorged on the night's emotional feast. A warm, heavy feeling, like after a perfect meal—everyone's satisfaction—hummed through our various bonds.

“The way that man screamed when his reflection started bleeding,” Addie giggled. “Pure gold.”

“My personal favorite was the woman who tried to rationalize the bone dragon as 'advanced robotics,'” Cross added.

Maverick's chest rumbled with laughter against my back. “Humans will convince themselves of anything to avoid facing the truth.”

“And that's exactly why this works so beautifully,” Lux added, stretching like a satisfied cat. “Their minds do half the work for us.”

The contentment of my found family washed over me. Eris bleated in agreement, headbutting Stone's leg affectionately. Even Oscar seemed to pulse with satisfied energy.

“The shadows dance with starlight teeth, while time bleeds backward through the seams...” The words spilled from my lips unbidden, my voice taking on that dreamy quality that worried everyone so much.

Maverick's warm hand closed around mine, pulling me back to the present moment. “Someone's in need of some endorphins… Night all!” His voice cut through the whispers, playful but with an undertone of concern.

A giggle bubbled up from my chest, half-mad and half-knowing. The others' amusement and understanding flowed through our bonds as they bid us goodnight.

Maverick tugged me toward the door of the tent, his touch sending pleasant shivers up my arm. The air shimmered with anticipation.

I felt his mix of desire and protective instinct, the need to ground me before I drifted too far. His grip was gentle but insistent as he guided me toward our caravan. I followed, centered by his presence, curling into Maverick's side as we strolled.

Who would have thought this would be my life?

A year ago, I was just a witch trying to make ends meet. Now I was something... more. Something that helped build this wonderful, terrible circus.

Maverick's arm tightened around me as if sensing my thoughts. The love flowing through our bond made me catch my breath. It was still overwhelming sometimes, how much I felt for this man who'd crashed into my life and turned it into something I’d never wanted but couldn’t get enough of.

“You're thinking too loud,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my temple.

I smiled, letting my head rest on his shoulder, unable to explain in plain English just yet, that I was grateful. For everything. For him.

I'd seen countless possible futures, timelines where we all chose different paths, but somehow, against all odds, they'd chosen to stay. To build this dark sanctuary with me, despite what I'd become.

Fate whispered other possibilities, other futures we might have had. But this—this beautiful, twisted family we'd created—was better than anything I could have orchestrated.

Even with all the power in the universe, I’d learned that some things couldn't be predicted or controlled. And that was more than okay. It was perfect in its own imperfect way.

Thanks for reading Maverick and Tess' story! I hope you fell in love with them as much as I did!