My heart pounds in time with the music that’s still playing.
Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump.
“What do you mean, Master Kaazu?” I ask, a battle going on inside of me to keep my expressions devoid of any emotion while he narrows his eyes on me.
A snap of his finger. That would be all it would take for him to put me in utter agony. To rip me apart without even laying a hand on me. I’ve seen him do it as punishment to others time and time again. His power is a force to be feared, and it’s just another way he keeps us all under his thumb.
“The crowd,” he bites out. “You disengaged all of them at the same time. It was sloppy. If they weren’t so blood-drunk, they could know what you are. What you did.”
Relief hits me in the face like a cold breeze, but I don’t dare show it. “Apologies, Master Kaazu. My powers were waning. I lost control.”
“Don’t do it again,” he warns, his voice so threatening that a lesser male might cower back.
“I won’t,” I promise.
“I felt a surge of power.”
His words slam like a guillotine over my neck. I’m headless, no mind at all, as I stare unblinkingly as my head screams at me to run, to get away, but I don’t dare move an inch.
Kaazu’s mouth thins. “You overtaxed your power, hmm? You let it surge up. That was sloppier than even your disgusting disengage.”
A puff of breath comes out of me. “I’m sorry.” They’re words scraped together from a hollowed throat that I can’t quite feel.
He fists his hands in my shirt, daring me to cross him so that he can punish me right here and now. But I don’t move. I know better than to bait the braying beast.
“Fortunately for you, your little showing off of power tonight made me a very rich man,” he says, his hold threatening to snap the buttons off my shirt. “I’ll deal with you more later. Get everyone moving. I want to be packed and ready to go in fifteen minutes. If we aren’t, I’m adding that to the list of your screw-ups tonight.”
Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump.
He doesn’t know. I was able to get the conjurer to break Jetta’s collar, and Kaazu doesn’t know.
I’ve waited so many years for this moment I could cry, but there’s no time to celebrate, and any gloating will have to be done beneath a silent mask of capitulation.
I tilt my head down in acquiescence, and he releases me with a glare before striding away to cash out the crowd and gain his newly made fortune.
I made him richer tonight. But I gained more than I gave.
It’s time to help Jetta escape.
3
Jetta
My entire body thrums with injuries and the adrenaline that’s still rushing through me. I walk past the others as they head to the stage to drag off the unconscious troupers. The curtain closes, but it doesn’t do much to muffle the noise of the crowd.
Those vamps were salivating tonight. I’m surprised a mob didn’t try to rush the stage and give Kaazu’s magic a run for it. That would’ve been something worth seeing. The bastard never usually has to meet a challenge.
Unfortunately, even if they had tried anything tonight, I know Kaazu would’ve swiftly taken care of it. He’s one of the most powerful conjurers I’ve ever seen. Which is the only reason I haven’t tried to kill him.
“Fifteen! Kaazu wants us gone in fifteen!”
The voice comes from Magnus, our only trouper who’s a vampire. He didn’t fight tonight, but he was in the first set, so he’s still in costume like me.
“You wanna go clink fangs and celebrate with your friends out there, Mag?” I ask as we cross paths.
Magnus makes a face. “I’ll pass.”
I smirk as I duck under one of the background props that’s been left haphazardly in the path. Troupers are rushing around to pack up, everyone working double time. Making it to the “wardrobe” section—which is basically just a curtained off five by five area in the back with a mirror and trunks of clothes, I grab a rag from the pile and start swiping the blood off my face.
Perry and the others did a number on me tonight, but it’s nothing compared to what I’ve had in the past. At least I won, and Trish didn’t end up shifting. That would’ve sucked for me if she had.
I clean off my face as best I can and then lather on some cream to staunch the flow of new blood. It’ll help me heal faster, and the marks will be gone in a few hours. Luckily, nothing was deep.
I watch as Magnus and four other male shifters carry out the unconscious bodies to the exit, where they’ll be tossed into one of the vans or RVs to sleep it off. They’ll have to face extra training tomorrow for losing, and if Kaazu is feeling particularly sadistic, maybe even punishment. At least I don’t have to endure that since I won. Small victories.
Moving quickly, I strip out of my dancing slippers, leotard and skirt, and pull on some jean shorts, a plain t-shirt, and my combat boots over my fishnet tights. I made the mistake of loading up one night while still wearing my costume and accidentally snagged the material. Kaazu’s punishment was a cane to the knees and ten thousand dollars charged to “replace” my costume. I make sure to always change now.
Finished, I start tossing in costumes and packing up the lighting, while everyone else rushes around to pack up just as quickly. We all know what happens when we’re not finished by the time Kaazu is ready to go, and the consequences aren’t pretty. He’s an impatient motherfuck.
“Jetta.”
I look up as I’m shoving all the makeup into one of the plastic bins to see Heathcliff walking toward me. My stomach automatically does a backflip and misses the landing. I always have that reaction when it comes to him, no matter how much I try to suppress it.
“Hey, Cliff,” I reply before snapping the lid closed and moving over to gather up all the hair supplies.
“Jetta, I need to talk to you.”
That’s usually code for sneaking away to steal a few moments together. “Now?” I ask with a knowing smirk, my body already switching from one adrenaline rush to another. It’s not uncommon that we fall together after the show is over. In fact, it usually goes hand-in-hand, since everyone is distracted with packing up. “Alright, but we’ll have to be quick.”
I turn around so I can tug him into a dark corner, but he stops me. “No, I really do mean talk,” he says, and I frown at the serious tone in his voice.
Despite the dim lighting backstage, I take a moment to really look at him, and his appearance makes me pause. His usually perfect blond hair is lined with sweat at his sideburns and the ridge of his hairline. His blue eyes are strained too, and he looks paler than usual.
I’m instantly on high alert, all thoughts of fooling around out the window. “What’s wrong?”
His eyes shift around. “Can we go outside?”
I look around again, knowing we have to look busy in case Kaazu or the others see. We may all be troupe members, but there’s a high level of mistrust and dislike that breeds in our shared air. Kaazu makes sure of it.
“Okay. Grab a trunk?”
With a nod, he leans down and snaps shut one of the full costume trunks before hefting it into his arms. I grab the bins for the makeup and hair supplies, stacking them up in my arms, and follow him outside so we can look busy and no one will question anything.