Chapter 52

Fifty-Two

Ipace outside the tent, knowing I can't be in there even though I want to be. Dr. Louie has already kicked me out twice, saying he needed to focus and couldn't handle the fear filling the air. I don't blame him.

"He's going to be okay," Spade tells me as I walk back and forth, practically wearing a hole in the ground with my path. Club sits on a crate beside the tent flap, flicking a knife through his fingers. It's his way of not panicking, just as pacing is my coping mechanism.

"We don't know that," I growl, feeling angry, desperate, and afraid.

Heart lost so much blood. Dr. Louie said we were lucky the bullet didn't hit any major organs, but he's still in there, having to dig it out and stitch him up. There's also no guarantee that he'll be okay after losing so much blood, especially since it took way too long to get back. I considered demanding we go to a real hospital, but I knew as well as the others that they wouldn't help us there. Plus, I didn't trust them to save Heart, not like I do Dr. Louie.

Heart won't be doing trapeze for at least a month while he waits to heal, and he'll be so pissed about that when he wakes up.

Freedom stands beside Spade, her tail twitching back and forth from the tension in the air. She looks at the tent flaps as if waiting, and she seems just as angry as I am. Heart is one of her favorite people. He always gives her the best scratches.

Diamond is inside with Heart, and I saw worry flash in his eyes just before doc kicked me out. The gunshot is bad. We nearly lost him, but I trust Dr. Louie to bring him back.

In the meantime, I can't stay here.

I can't do nothing.

Fury eats away at my gut, threatening to spill out at any moment. I can practically taste the acidic pain on my tongue. It demands retribution and revenge. Roger was already marked for death, but now I'm going to make it fucking hurt. I'm going to flay strips from his flesh. I'm going to pluck his fingernails off one by one. I'm going to carve him up into teeny tiny pieces and force them down his throat. He'll know pain worse than anything he's ever done to me because he tried to take Heart from me.

He tried to take what belongs to me.

"I can't be here," I rasp, stopping my pacing.

Both Club and Spade look up at me.

"Why?" Club asks, his gaze too intense.

"I'm going to Hilda's tent," I say, turning away. "I need to . . . I need to read the cards."

The reminder of the warning that death is coming weighs heavily on my shoulders. If Heart dies . . .

I can't even think about it right now. I need to consult the cards and see if I can learn anything else.

"Just be careful," Spade says, reminding me that I'm in the most danger.

Roger won't like that we escaped, but this is some sort of game to him now. He wants me alive, and he won't stop coming until I'm within his grasp. That isn't going to happen, but I also won't let him hurt what's mine.

I move through the cirque with purpose, my strides long and rushed. When I push into Hilda's tent, I'm surprised to find her there. She's standing, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to show up," she says. Her eyes flash as she gestures to the table. The cards sit upon it as they always do, but something feels different this time. With my fury burning in my throat and my hatred of Roger in my heart, the cards feel . . . stronger. The pull I feel to them nearly suffocates me.

"Take a seat," Hilda says, and her voice echoes with many. "You're ready."

Ready for what?

I don't ask the question out loud. Instead, I walk around the table and take a seat. Before I can place my hand over the cards, they spring into the air and float before me, shaking with the energy in my core. They flip and move between the fronts and backs, flickering between the faces, then they begin to glow, becoming brighter.

I don't ask what's happening. I don't need to.

He hurt my family. We barely made it out of there, and Heart nearly died. Roger expects me to run again, but he doesn't know the Ember I am now. He doesn't realize who he fucked with.

But he will.

I tilt my chin up as the cards begin to vibrate and then circle faster and faster. I can barely follow their movements as they start to burrow beneath my skin, digging in, but the small points of pain ease once they make it inside. I am the cirque now. I was always meant to be the cirque, ever since I was given the joker card as a child, and now I'll never be alone again.

Hilda's weathered hands come to rest on my shoulders.

"You're ready," she says again, and it feels like a blessing from the one who carried the cards before me. "Ember, queen of the cirque, hunter of darkness."

"Yes," I hiss, strength flooding my body with the cards. My back bows with power and darkness. The queen of hearts flips out and hovers before me—the final card. With a final flicker, it slams into my chest and slides inside. This one burns the most with a pain I know is meant to be a reminder of everything we're going to face. I stand and roll my shoulders, my body buzzing with energy, and my fury expands even further.

I won't run ever again. I won't hide. I won't be afraid.

Now, it's time to hunt.