Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

GARRETT

I really don’t feel good.” Garrett leaned heavily on Drake as the world wobbled around him.

“We’re going to fix that,” Drake assured him. “Just hang in there. Stay with me.”

Brian nudged against Garrett’s thigh as if he was trying to guide him.

“Do you really think the carnival can help? Faye said she couldn’t break the curse.”

Faye confirmed that Garrett was both spellbound and under the vampire’s compulsion. She hesitated to tinker with the way those magics twisted together unless there was truly no other choice.

The same was true for Brian. Faye figured out that he had been magically locked into his dog form. Brian mournfully nodded as if he understood every word.

“Faye said it could be broken—just not by her,” Drake reminded him. They crossed from where he parked toward the ticket booth, leaving Faye with the truck. The carnival was closed. Its lights were dark, and in the moonlight, the tents and attractions seemed spooky, almost other-worldly.

“Why would they let us in? They’re not open.” Garrett was trying to follow a train of thought, talk, and walk without putting his full weight on Drake. It seemed like too much to juggle at once.

Back in his locked room, Garrett had felt a little off, like he might be coming down with something. Still, his mind had been clear. Leaving the room and building took a toll, no doubt a way for the vampire to keep his servants bound to him. The longer they were gone, the more fuzzy-headed and worse Garrett felt.

“Three days,” he reminded Drake. “Spell and compulsion—remember? If we can’t break it and the vampire doesn’t release me, I’m out of luck.”

Drake winced. “I’ll take care of it, But I’m going to get you and Brian somewhere safe first. I can’t fight if I don’t know that you’re safe. The carnival people might even know something we don’t that would help.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt—or worse—saving me. I couldn’t live with that,” Garrett begged.

Drake looked at him, meeting his gaze. “And I don’t want to live without you, so we’d both better get our shit together. ’Cos I’m pretty sure I love you.”

Garrett caught his breath. He hadn’t expected Drake to say that so soon, maybe not at all. “I love you too. I thought about that in the room. How I hadn’t told you. Didn’t want to die without saying it.”

“No one is dying,” Drake snapped. “Except for Colletta’s pet witch and his fucking vampire. Don’t talk like that.”

Brian whined, and Garrett wondered how much of their conversation he could understand.

“Gotta help Brian too,” Garrett said as they got closer to the main gate. “He’s stuck. He deserves better. I’d tell him he’s a good boy, but now that’s kinda weird.”

“You sound drunk.” Drake took more of Garrett’s weight.

“Drunk feels better.” Garrett was certain that without Drake’s help, he would weave and stumble. He had the sudden feeling that they were no longer alone. The man from the ticket booth appeared out of nowhere.

“We’re closed. Why have you come?”

“Madame Persephone said we’d be safe here. I claim sanctuary for Garrett—and the dog.” Drake didn’t seem intimidated by the strangeness of their interrogator or the situation. “Please. Help him.”

The man looked Garrett and Brian over from head to toe. “Hmm. Bewitched and compelled. Not something we see every day.”

“Please,” Drake urged.

Garrett turned to look at him and saw a vulnerability in his lover’s expression that he had rarely glimpsed. Drake hadn’t just come to rescue him from being kidnapped, Garrett realized. He had come to save him—even when that meant battling a witch and a vampire to do it.

“I will take you to Madame Persephone,” the ticket man said. “Errante Ame will also want to know. There may be…repercussions.”

“We don’t mean to bring trouble on you,” Drake said. “But I believe they’ll be safer here than anywhere else. And when I stop the ones who did this, we’ll all be safer.”

The ticket man gave him an appraising look. “You believe you can?”

Drake nodded. “I can—and I will.”

“Come inside. Madame is likely waiting for you.” They followed him through the gate. Garrett didn’t see any other security guards or barriers, but he felt a shiver of power roll over him as they crossed the boundary. He didn’t want to know what it would have felt like without a guide and permission.

Without the bright lights and music, the carnival felt too quiet, maybe even haunted. Stripped of its flash and color, silenced and deserted, the tents and midway seemed otherworldly, like a darkened gateway to another reality.

Garrett shivered. Drake shot him a look but didn’t say anything, probably because the ticket man was close enough to hear. Brian stayed so close beside him that Garrett nearly tripped over the dog. And here I’d been afraid he’d run off without a leash.

His mind wandered, needing a focus so he didn’t think about how totally screwed he was. His sympathy went to Brian. What was his relationship with Colletta before being cursed? Had they been boss and underling? Lovers? None of those seemed quite right, or explained why Colletta felt the need to bind Brian to him—or punish him by denying his humanity.

Yet Brian hadn’t attacked Colletta. Maybe a geas prevented it , Garrett thought. And Brian had practically begged to go with Garrett when Drake came for him, so his loyalty to the mobster was definitely finite.

He thought about all the times he had talked to the dog shifter like an actual canine and cringed, although it hadn’t seemed to bother Brian. In fact, Brian had acted completely dog-like, and had Garrett not had the new insight into the supernatural side of things, he never would have thought anything amiss—except for the mobster owner.

Did Brian become more dog-like the longer he remained without shifting back? Would he eventually lose his humanity or his ability to shift after too long? Thinking about Brian’s predicament took Garrett’s mind off his own bad luck.

“Almost there.” Drake kept one arm around Garrett and a hand on his hip. Garrett didn’t think he could stay on his feet without Drake’s support.

“I’m sorry.”

Drake barked a harsh laugh. “For what? Getting kidnapped? Being a doctor to a mobster’s pet? You didn’t even know the spooky side of life was real a month ago. None of this is your fault.”

“I’m making your job harder.” It took all of Garrett’s concentration to talk. “You came here for a reason.”

Drake stopped, letting the ticket man get a little ahead of them, and he turned to look Garrett in the eyes. “I came here to do a job. But finding you means everything. And I’m going to fight to keep you safe and keep what we have.”

Garrett managed a watery smile but felt too fuzzy to say something profound in return, so he just kissed Drake on the cheek. “Love you too.”

Brian nudged his leg, not wanting to be left out.

Garrett ruffled his ears. “You’re the strangest mobster. I hope you’re not a hitman.”

Brian yipped, as if disputing that and Garrett managed a chuckle. “Okay. Good to know. Not a hitman.”

Drake turned to look at him. “You sound really drunk. How do you feel?”

“Really drunk. But not in a good way. In a too much grain alcohol and not enough food way.”

Despite everything, Drake smiled and shook his head. “When this is over, I want to know the story behind how you found that out. Vet school must have been more fun than I thought.”

Ticket Man led them down the darkened midway toward Madame Persephone’s tent. Garrett found it hard to believe that it hadn’t been long since he and Drake had walked under the bright lights comparatively carefree.

Now, Garrett hoped he would live long enough for them to ever have another date.

Drake seemed to guess his thoughts. “Stop that. You can’t give up on me, Garrett. Nothing I do will matter if you give up.”

“Not giving up. Need a rematch at mini-golf.” Garrett did his best to put on a brave face, but he felt certain that Drake knew how scared he was, even without his psychic abilities.

Garrett could pick up Brian’s feelings, although given his current circumstances his link was muddier than usual. Brian didn’t seem at all sad at having fled Colletta’s compound. Garrett picked up a mix of relief, fear, and resignation. He wondered if he would ever find out the story that led to Brian’s situation, but being under a compulsion himself, he could sympathize.

“Madame will see you,” the Ticket Man said, startling Garrett out of his thoughts. They stood in front of Madame Persephone’s purple tent. Despite the darkness all around them, the tent shone with inner light.

“Seek your fortune wisely,” he added before sweeping back the flap to allow them entry.

Just like before, Madame sat behind her table surrounded by cards and orbs. She looked up, and as her gaze swept over them, it felt as if she saw right down to their bones.

“I hoped you would come, but I did not know for certain. Please, sit down. Let me look at you.”

Drake and Garrett sat across from her at the table. Brian stayed in the doorway as if unsure whether he was welcome.

Madame’s expression softened. “You, of course you are. Come in,” she told Brian, who padded over to sit close enough to bump Garrett’s feet.

“You remembered my words.” She looked from Garrett to Drake. “You came back.”

“It seems…safer here,” Drake said. “I need?—“

“You need a sanctuary for your partner and the shifter while you go to war,” she finished for him.

Drake nodded. “Yes. Can they stay? Will they be safe here? Can you heal them?”

Madame sat quietly for several minutes, eyes closed, with a meditative expression. Garrett wondered what she saw with her inner sight or whether she could read their thoughts or auras.

“Both are cursed.” She opened her eyes. “It would be very dangerous to try to break the curses—if they could even be broken.” At Drake’s devastated look, she held up a hand. “But…I believe I can slow the damage, buy you time, ease the suffering. If there is no other choice, I will try to break it—but I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Can they be broken if I kill Colletta’s witch and the vampire?” Drake’s resolute expression gave Garrett hope even as it raised fear for Drake’s safety. “I’m betting the witch is the same one who cursed Brian.”

“Yes, although a violent breaking may not be comfortable for them. Such things are meant to exert control, a leash not easily slipped.”

“But survivable?” Drake pressed.

“In theory, yes. I have not dealt with this particular curse before.” She pointed to the amulets that Garrett and Brian wore. “A witch of considerable power made those. They stave off the inevitable. That witch could not do more?”

“She tried,” Garrett managed, not wanting to sit there and have everyone else do the talking. “But no.”

“First, I will send you to Peter, our potioner,” Madame said. “Tonight, I want you to take whatever he gives you and rest. Tomorrow, if you feel better, I will introduce you to our performers who work with animals. They will welcome someone who can connect with their performing partners. We have our own medical people, but none who can hear what the animals are saying.”

“I’m grateful to be able to stay here and for Brian to be welcome. If I can be of help while I’m here, I’m happy to lend a hand,” Garrett said.

“First, you need a good meal and a decent night’s sleep—and so does Brian.” Drake placed his hand on Garrett’s.

Madame turned to Drake. “Thank you for trusting us with him. I believe you’ve left companions in your truck. These are not times to leave allies without defense. Go do your job. We will protect Garrett and Brian. May you find what you seek.”

Drake walked Garrett to Peter the Potioner’s tent and stopped outside. The Ticket Man gave them space, but he clearly followed to see Drake out.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. I know the time limit. I’m going to move heaven and earth to save you—and free Brian.” He pulled Garrett into a kiss, and Garrett found himself feeling light-headed for a different and totally wonderful reason. He kissed back, trying to put all his faith and trust into it. When they stepped apart, breathless, he could swear Brian snickered.

“See you soon.” Drake left with the Ticket Man.

Garrett forced himself to go into the tent with Brian close by his side. A man stood by a shelf of bottles filled with liquids in various colors and clarities. Peter had straw-blond hair that stuck out around his head like a scarecrow. That suited his thin build, all arms and legs, with a long neck, a pointy nose, and a prominent Adam’s apple.

He looked up as Garrett and Brian entered.

“Welcome. I’m Peter. Madame told me to expect you. Come in. I can’t cure you, but I should be able to slow the problem and make you feel more comfortable.” His gaze dropped to Brian. “You, too.”

Brian’s tail wagged, and he gave a sharp yip of agreement.

“You can sense the curse?” Garrett asked.

“Yeah. We get a lot of that around here, people who need to be un-hexed. Messy stuff,” Peter commiserated.

The way he moved around the tent reminded Garrett of a flittering wren. Peter motioned for Garrett to sit. Brian lay down beside him. Garrett felt grateful for Brian’s support, glad they could stick together as strangers in a strange place.

The inside of the tent seemed larger than Garrett expected, and the strings of lights outside shone through the emerald canvas to give everything a greenish cast. Mismatched glass bottles filled wooden shelves, each one filled with mysterious liquids. The scent of ambergris and anise filled the air with a medicinal edge.

A large obsidian mortar and pestle sat on a narrow wooden table toward the back of the tent. Garrett saw arcane symbols etched onto some of the bottles, carved into the cable, and sewn into the tent fabric. The potion master hummed to himself as he moved around the tent, picking up bottles and putting them down again, finally selecting four containers and bringing them to his compounding table.

“I can create something to help you feel better—relieve the aches and fever, keep you from being miserable. Also something to give you energy during the day and sleep well at night, and to ease the fear.”

“Anything is a help.” Tiredness overwhelmed him, both body and spirit.

“It’s not over yet,” Peter said without turning back toward Garrett as he worked at his table. “Even strong magic can be unwound, and vampire compulsion is brittle if you know its weaknesses. As for your friend, he’s experienced a terrible injustice. We’ll see what we can do to make things right.”

Brian nosed Garrett’s ankle, and he reached down to ruffle the dog’s ears. He resolved to think of Brian as a dog until things changed since Brian didn’t seem to mind, and they both needed the comfort.

While he waited for Peter to create his potion, Garrett looked around the tent from his seat at the table. Some bottles had elaborate decorations pressed into the glass, while others were clear and unremarkable. He swore that the contents glittered and shone with an inner light, something he hoped was a trick of the candlelight. It looks like something out of a fantasy novel. I hope his talents are as real as Madame’s are.

Peter returned after a while with a glass vial for Garrett and a shallow dish for Brian. Garrett’s glass held a plum-colored liquid, while the green drink in Brian’s dish looked less appealing.

“Medicines for supernatural creatures can be tricky because your metabolism and sometimes physical aspects aren’t identical to regular humans. That means you need formulations that take those factors into account in order not to overdose or undermedicate.”

That sounds like Drake’s case, only those drug makers were illegal. If I get out of here alive, I wonder what I can do better for my clients who aren’t what they appear to be.

Garrett shared a look with Brian and knocked the vial back, taking it like a shot. To his surprise, it had a blackberry taste that was much better than he expected. Brian bent his head to lap up the liquid in his dish. Whatever its flavor, the dog seemed to approve and finished it quickly.

“Thank you.” Garrett hoped the potion would take effect soon and mute his symptoms enough to let him sleep.

“You are most welcome,” Peter replied. “Now, you should both rest. I want to be able to check on you and hear if you have problems. I’ve set up a cot for you in the tent’s side room. If you need me, I will know.”

“Thank you.” Garrett was grateful but completely exhausted. He only had the clothes on his back, so he followed Peter to the small side room right away. The cot, bedding, and pillow looked wonderful, and he appreciated the nest of blankets on the floor for Brian.

Garrett thought that he would lie awake, tossing and turning, but he fell asleep almost as soon as he lay down. Brian scooted the blankets closer to the bed, taking comfort in them being close to each other. Garrett didn’t mind at all, feeling just as vulnerable.

“Drake will do everything he can to get us out of this,” he told Brian. “I just hope he can find that vampire fast enough to count.”

Garrett woke to Brian nudging his foot with a wet nose, making it clear that Brian needed to go out. Garrett struggled to orient himself, then remembered escaping and making it to the carnival.

“Okay, okay. I’m coming,” he told Brian in a sleep-heavy voice. He crawled out of the cot, stretched, and noticed a shirt and pair of pants lying next to the bed. He had worn his own clothes since the kidnapping; borrowing something fresh and clean was a godsend.

He dressed and slipped from the back room, wondering if Peter would be awake. He found the potioner already at work mixing elixirs at a work table.

“Good morning,” Peter said without turning. “I trust you both slept well?”

“Out cold.” Garrett was surprised that his rest had been deep and dreamless.

“Thank the potion. That’s not all it did, but it is a happy side effect,” Peter replied.

“Thank you for the clothes.” Garrett looked down at Brian. “Where should I take him to do business?”

“Out behind the animal tents,” Brian replied. “Turn left when you go out the door. You’ll spot them. Then come back this way and keep going to the left, behind the midway. You’ll see the area that’s staff only—there’s a shower and bathroom there and a mess tent. They know you’re here, so no one will mind if you use the facilities.”

“Thank you. Can I bring something back for you?” Garrett looked around but didn’t see any plates.

“I’m fine, but thanks for offering. Go shower and eat. You’ll both feel better. Come back here when you’re done. I’ll give you another dose of the potion. Rest is the best medicine for both of you. I’ve left a small stack of books for you, Garrett, to pass the time when you’re not napping. And a couple of chew toys for Brian,” Peter added with a smile.

“Thank you. I can’t begin to repay your kindness.”

“The carnival is here for those who need it,” Peter answered with a slight shrug of his shoulders as if that should be evident. “Now go eat and get cleaned up. I’ll see you soon.”

Garrett rolled up the clothing and headed out, with Brian practically glued to his side. They found the showers easily. Brian guarded Garrett’s clothes while he showered, sitting at attention outside the stall, clearly on duty. He declined Garrett’s offer to give him a shower with a shake of his head, and Garrett wondered again how much human Brian had faded.

Getting clean and having fresh clothes made an amazing difference, perking Garrett up enough to realize he was curious and hungry. Brian led the way to the mess tent, and Garrett knew from what he could pick up of the shifter’s thoughts that they were both in need of the comfort of a good meal.

He reached the door of the tent and hesitated, realizing that he lacked identification and was a stranger to the Carnival. Brian made a questioning noise, which Garrett interpreted as wondering whether he would be welcome.

“Come in, both of you.” A man pulled back the tent flap. “Errante said you would be along. I’m Bill. If you need anything or have questions about the carnival while you’re here, just ask me or my brothers.”

“How will I know who your brothers are?” Garrett asked.

Bill grinned like Garrett had missed a joke. “Don’t worry. You’ll know.”

Garrett entered the tent and looked around. It seemed bigger on the inside, and he was tempted to go back out for a second look, but the growling in his stomach made resolving his curiosity a low priority. The food smelled fantastic, a mix of familiar and intriguingly unknown aromas that heightened Garrett’s hunger.

What is this place? A nexus between parallel universes? A wormhole between dimensions? I read a book series about a bar like that once, where time-travelers and universe-skippers could meet up and have a beer. Does time work the same here? If not, will that slow the curse’s effects?

Now that he was awake and feeling marginally better, Garrett had a bunch of questions that hadn’t occurred to him the previous night.

Would they answer if I asked? Or is it a need-to-know kind of thing? It’s awesome—and kind of scary at the same time.

As odd as his sanctuary was, nothing about the people or the place made Garrett feel unsafe or unwelcome. He went through the cafeteria line with Brian plastered to his side, and people just acknowledged them both with a nod and a smile as if they were expected.

And maybe we were. Are they all psychic? There’s definitely a vibe here that feels magical, otherworldly. Like we’ve stepped into somewhere that isn’t quite our own world.

Some people were dressed as performers, while others wore street clothes. As he moved through the food line, he was surprised to be handed a tray already loaded with coffee, juice, an omelet, bacon, and hash browns for him, and another plate of hash and a bowl of water for Brian.

“How—?”

The server behind the counter just smiled. “Keeps the line moving.” He tapped his temple with two fingers as if to suggest a bit of mind-reading.

“How do I pay?” Garrett didn’t see a checkout.

“Taken care of,” the server said. “Enjoy your meal.”

Garrett thanked the man and headed for a table off to one side where he and Brian wouldn’t be in the way. Now that he had food in front of him, he realized how long it had been since he had eaten. He suspected the same was true for Brian.

“Bet you’re hungry too.” Garrett put the plate and bowl on the ground where Brian would be out of the way for people moving around the tables. Brian wagged heartily and dug in with gusto.

Garrett no longer felt surprised to find that his food was delicious and exactly as much as he wanted to eat. His coffee—just the right temperature and flavored perfectly with cream and sugar—hit the spot and helped banish the last fog of sleep.

He chanced a look around. Everyone seemed normal. He didn’t see anyone who looked like a space alien or a talking creature. It reminded him of a Renaissance faire he had attended with friends where it was difficult to tell the performers from the costumed guests, and everyone spoke in a weird version of Middle English.

No one used an odd accent or antiquated speech pattern, but unlike that festival, Garrett felt like he had one foot through a portal to somewhere else. The vibe he picked up at the potioner’s tent suffused everything, steady as a heartbeat.

When they move on, do they just poof out of sight and show up where they’re going, or do they have to move like regular people?

It didn’t surprise him as much as it probably should have when a young man came up to his table just as he and Brian finished eating.

“I’m here to take you to the animal area,” the man said. “You’re a veterinarian, right?” Brian nodded. “I’m Biff.”

Garrett frowned, noting a clear resemblance between this man and the first one he had met, but also certain they weren’t the same person. “But?—”

“Oh, you met my brother, Bill. We’re identical triplets. I guess our mother thought the names made it simple to tell us apart.”

Garrett didn’t think that made anything simple, but he nodded. “Thank you. I have no idea where to go.”

“Don’t worry,” Biff told him. “At the carnival, you always end up right where you belong.”

Garrett and Brian followed Biff out of the tent, where they passed another guy who looked just like him.

“That was Bob. You haven’t met him yet,” his guide told Garrett.

“Doesn’t that get confusing?” Garrett asked.

Biff looked like the thought hadn’t occurred to him. “You know, people from the outside always ask that. I guess it could, although it’s always been that way, so we don’t really think anything about it.”

Garrett picked up a faint feeling of puzzlement and amusement from Brian and figured the shifter had followed the conversation. Me, too, Brian. Me, too.

As they neared the animal tents, Garrett could pick up a cacophony of thoughts, fragments that he could tell came from a variety of types of animals. Big cats like lions and tigers. Two bears. Dogs. Several of something small—ferrets, he wondered.

Brian made a small noise of distress. Before Garrett could reassure him, Biff patted the dog’s head.

“Don’t worry. Nearly all of the animals here are shifters or weres. We have a strict no-eating-each-other policy,” Biff told them.

Brian only slightly relaxed at that, and Garrett bit back a chuckle. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you.”

They followed Biff into the huge tent. Garrett hadn’t been sure what to expect, but the reality was more Dr. Dolittle than Ringling Bros.

Instead of stalls and kennels, one side of the tent provided comfortable and quasi-private sleeping quarters for humans, with a few nods to the animal alter egos. Right now, the performers were in animal form, going through their paces with the tricks that would amaze audiences. Garrett had always been in awe of ethical trainers who could get amazing feats from their herding and agility dogs, in part because most of those were true canines.

Coupling animal athletic capability with human understanding took Garrett’s breath away. His veterinarian training immediately registered that the performers were well cared for and seemed as happy as athletes and actors honing their craft.

“I hear you’re a veterinarian.”

Garrett looked up to see a man whose haircut and bearing strongly suggested animal trainer even though he wasn’t wearing a costume.

“Yes, that’s me.” Garrett was unsure what Peter and Madame had been thinking when they sent him here. Garrett was sure the carnival’s animals, both shifter and real, had excellent care, unlike with some traveling shows.

“Psychic?” The trainer tilted his head as if he was using his own skills to suss out the truth.

“More feelings and impressions than actual thoughts,” Garrett admitted. “Is there somehow I can help?”

“And your friend is…complicated.” The trainer gave a discerning look at Brian, who did his best doggie version of shrugged shoulders. “I’m Ronald, the lead trainer. Strictly behind the scenes. I leave the Big Top and the spotlights to the real stars.” He swept his hand to indicate the animals, and Garrett sensed deep affection in his voice.

“Garrett,” he replied. “And this is Brian. I’m not exactly sure why Peter and Madame sent me, but I’m happy to be of service if there’s something I can do.”

“Have you thought about catering to a paranormal clientele?” Ronald asked as they began to walk around the perimeter of the tent.

Garrett gave a grim chuckle. “I only learned there was such a thing recently. So I’m very new to that side.”

“It’s something to consider,” Ronald said. “There have always been healers using magic and traditional cures like potions and salves. But there’s an emerging field of prescription medications specially formulated for supernatural metabolisms. I imagine you noticed that your friend requires different dosages on regular dog medicine.”

“Definitely. That’s one of the things that made me question.” Garrett had figured out how to make the medications he had work for Brian, but it required a lot of off-label applications and some very strange doses.

“We could use veterinarians who understand their clients without whisking them off to secret government facilities for experiments.”

Garrett and Brian shuddered in unison. “That would be very bad.”

“Right now, all the paranormal drug manufacture is underground—both good drugs and bad.”

“That was the feeling I’d gotten.” Garrett didn’t want to say more from what Drake had told him.

“There are some efforts to create our own standards and inspection system, but it’s just being developed. That would help a lot. The quality can vary, and that’s dangerous.”

Very dangerous. That would make it easy to over or underdose, and medicines that are cut with other, cheaper, ingredients can cause all kinds of side effects.

“The witches help a lot,” Ronald went on, “but you can’t always find one when you need one, and sometimes things don’t go well.” He looked at Garrett. “We—the paranormal community, not just the carnival—could use good people who are on our side.”

Brian bumped Garrett’s leg hard, and Garrett took that as agreement.

“I’ve always had an interest in chemistry. I took a lot of pharmacy classes in vet school because I thought being able to compound drugs for special needs was fascinating.”

“We’re about as special needs as it gets,” Ronald said. “I’ve heard that shifters have a tough time out there because they can’t go to a human doctor—the differences will get picked up right away and get the wrong kind of attention. So they go to vets and the treatment isn’t usually quite right for the way we’re different, but at least they don’t get hauled away to a lab.”

“I picked some of that up from Brian. There aren’t any vet schools for paranormal creatures?”

“Not that I’ve ever heard of. Seems to be old school mentor to apprentice kind of learning, at least, that’s what the carnival vets have said. Don’t forget—our folks need to stay under the radar.”

“Brian’s…manager…just showed up with him one day,” Garrett said. Brian grumbled something that Garrett gathered was highly impolite at the mention of Colletta. “No idea how he picked me off the internet. I couldn’t figure out why Brian’s baseline readings were so odd until I found out the truth.”

“And it may have just been luck…but in my world, luck usually gets a nudge from something supernatural.”

Garrett’s mind spun, leaping ahead to the possibility of having an underground practice treating weres and shifters, with a small lab to do special formulations. The lab part would be highly illegal. Then again, my boyfriend is a paranormal fed. Maybe we could work something out.

Ronald looked at Brian with sympathy. “And then you get the sick fucks who pull this kind of shit.” Righteous anger heated his tone. “They learn enough about the paranormal pharmaceutical side of things to brew up zombie drugs to aid control, compulsion, and curses. Bad witches, predatory vampires—they aren’t all, but there are definitely some bad eggs—and the were-creatures’ elders who want complete control.”

Garrett had gathered as much from what little Drake had let slip, but apparently this was a bigger problem than he had assumed.

“I’m still wrapping my head around the idea of there being a supernatural underworld. My staff guessed that Brian’s…keeper…was a gangster just because he fit the stereotype and the vibes he gave off, but we never actually thought we were right.”

“Any time there’s money to be made and people who need what they can’t legally get, there will be someone willing to step in—for a price and a piece of the action,” Ronald said. “But there are good guys too. Like the carnival. And the Federal Bureau of Supernatural Investigation, the Supernatural Secret Service, the US Supernatural Marshals—definitely on the down-low, but they’re doing their best.”

Like Drake, Garrett thought as the last of the missing pieces clicked into place. There’s a whole parallel secret world out there, and most people will never—should never—know. I’m so lucky to find out—I just wish it had been under different circumstances.

Garrett suddenly felt woozy, and a stabbing headache made him double over. Brian was right beside him, protecting and comforting, as Garrett sank to his knees.

“Oh, dear. It must be the curse,” Ronald murmured. Garett had the presence of mind to wonder how he knew, but then the pain interrupted his thoughts again.

“We need you, Errante,” Ronald said softly as he reached out a hand to help Garrett stand. “Come on. I’ll get you some water, and we’ll wait for the boss to get here.”

He supported Garrett’s weight to walk to a chair and left him under Brian’s watchful eye while he went for water.

Brian whined softly and nuzzled Garrett’s arm. “Thanks. Guess I’ve been around when you’ve felt lousy. I appreciate you returning the favor.”

After a thorough sniff and a lick to Garrett’s hand, Brian sat squarely in front of him, making it clear that anyone who wanted to get to Garrett was going to need to go through him.

Garrett shut his eyes and tried to breathe deeply, hoping he didn’t pass out. He felt the curse like a virus, making everything hurt and raising his temperature. Now that he knew about the zombie compulsion drugs, he wondered how much of his food and drink was laced when he was held captive.

“He’s right here,” Ronald said, and Garrett forced himself to lift his head and open his eyes.

He saw Ronald returning with the elegantly dressed, imposingly handsome man whom Garrett had glimpsed on his first visit. Despite the man’s aura of authority, charisma—and power, Garrett didn’t feel afraid, although Brian kept himself planted in front of the chair on guard until Ronald and the stranger arrived.

“It’s okay,” the newcomer said to Brian. “I’m here to help.”

With that, Brian moved to the side and laid down so the man could approach Garrett.

“I am Errante Ame,” the stranger said. “We met in passing but weren’t personally introduced.” Garrett couldn’t help thinking that the man’s voice sounded like he had spent a lifetime in the theater.

“I have,” Errante replied with a chuckle, responding to the unspoken question. “Several, actually. But that’s neither here nor there.” His gaze raked across Garrett’s form, and then he laid a hand on Garrett’s head, only to withdraw as if he had been burned.

“Nasty bit of magic and compulsion there.” Errante’s glance turned even more sympathetic when he looked at Brian. “You, too, I see.”

“Can you fix it? For either of us?” Garrett knew what Madame and Peter had said—and Drake’s friend, Faye—but he couldn’t help hoping.

“Unfortunately not without doing other damage,” Errante said. “Which I suspect Madame also told you, but I understand why you needed to ask. I wish I could do more. But I suspect you are due for a potion and some of Madame’s help.”

Errante and Ronald got Garrett back to Peter’s tent with Brian right beside them all the way. The potioner was waiting for them when they arrived.

“Bring him in.” Peter held the flap back to the extra room. “I have a dose ready for him.”

Garrett sank onto his cot and thanked Errante and Ronald for their help. The two men withdrew, and he heard quiet conversation, but he couldn’t quite catch the words. Brian nuzzled him, worry clear in his eyes.

“Thanks.” Garrett scratched Brian’s ears. “You’re a very good boy.”

A vision overtook him, so clear and vivid that he feared for a moment he had been physically transported.

He saw Drake hiding behind a tall stack of pallets in a darkened warehouse. The air crackled with power, and a streak of blue fire lit up the gloom. Shadowy figures moved supernaturally fast, met by the crack of gunfire and the blur of steel blades.

The musty air stank of old rot and fresh blood. In the dim light, a battle raged, and Garrett guessed that Drake and his team had found the dark witch and the vampire who had caused so much mayhem.

More magic flared, setting the scene in hellish tones of orange and red. Garrett saw Drake drive a blade through a man’s back, narrowly missing being hit by one of those bursts of flame. Drake threw himself forward, shoving the blade even farther into the man’s body and sending them both stumbling into a third man, impaling him through the chest. Drake pivoted, bloody weapon raised, clothing and skin spattered with crimson, eyes wild, to face a new onslaught.

Blue lightning crashed all around, filling the darkened building and blinding Garrett so that he couldn’t see whether Drake survived the battle.

The vision vanished, and Garrett struggled for breath. His body went rigid, heart pounding, lungs straining, and he thought he was going to die. Inside, it felt like his veins were being yanked out like roots from dirt, a fiery, blinding pain that denied him the relief of unconsciousness.

Vaguely, Garrett heard someone thrashing nearby and then the loud howls of a dog. Voices blurred with the rush of blood in his ears. Garrett felt hands grabbing him, steadying his body, and prying open his mouth. A thick, tart liquid slipped down his throat as the grip refused to let him turn his head or spit out the noxious potion. He struggled against the grip, trying to tear loose.

Suddenly, the torment stopped, and he slumped, still supported by the firm hold on his arms until he was eased to the floor. The vision faded. Garrett lay on the ground, utterly spent, gasping for air, head spinning.

Drake was covered in blood. Was he hurt too? Were those the witches and vampires? Did he win?

Garrett felt panic rise, fearing the worst since the scene had gone black, and he couldn’t get the connection to spark again.

Could I see the vision because of my bond to Drake? And if I can’t reconnect, does that mean he didn’t survive?

“Easy, Garrett. Breathe.” The gentle voice repeated those words over and over until he could slow his breathing and focus. He opened his eyes to find Madame kneeling next to him, looking worried.

Peter knelt next to a naked man curled into a ball on his side. Brian? Garrett managed to wonder as panic receded.

Errante Ame stood behind Madame and Peter, face upturned, eyes shut, arms outstretched downward, and hands splayed as if channeling energy through himself and sharing it with the potioner and seer.

Perhaps it was the aftereffects of the vision, but Garrett thought his whole body had a faint glow. With each breath, the pain faded, but the vision itself remained etched sharply in his mind.

“Drake’s in danger. A witch. Vampires. Battle,” Garrett managed.

“The curse and compulsion is gone from both of you.” Madame’s voice was both soothing and authoritative. “That means the witch and the vampire who cast the spells are dead. You’re free.”

Garrett focused on his body, looking for the signs of the spell and the pain it caused. They were gone, leaving him feeling exhausted but completely normal.

“No, no, no, no!” Brian wailed, curled up in a tight ball. Peter brought a blanket to cover Brian, who now looked like a totally human young man with short dark hair, pale skin, and solid muscles. “I don’t want this.”

Garrett ignored his own vertigo to crawl close enough he could put a hand on Brian’s shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re safe. And you aren’t locked in anymore.”

Brian turned to him with wide eyes. “You don’t understand. I don’t want to be human again. I wasn’t a good man. I did things…I was a bad person. Colletta had me bound as a punishment, but it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m a much better dog. Please, let me be my dog again—permanently.”

Garrett saw a look pass between Errante and Madame. Errante came around to look Brian in the eyes. “We can make a cleaner binding than what was done before, one that won’t cause you discomfort. But it will be permanent. You’ll gradually lose your human memories and become fully dog, and your lifespan will be closer to dog than man.”

“I don’t care.” Brian sounded miserable. “Please just let me be my dog.”

“You can come home with me.” Garrett realized he had grown very fond of dog Brian. “I have another dog, Bailey. I think you two will get along. I promise to take care of you.”

Brian looked at him with the gratitude Garrett had seen many times in his dog’s gaze. “Thank you. Thank you so much—for everything.”

Peter came back with a goblet filled with a blue liquid and handed it to Brian. “Drink this. It will help the magic go more smoothly.”

“I’m ready.” Brian knocked it back, barely wincing at the taste.

Errante and Madame placed their hands on Brian’s head. Errante’s mouth moved in a silent spell. Madame closed her eyes, and her face took on a look of intense concentration. The air blurred around Brian, and he took on a golden glow. When the light faded, he was his dog-self once more.

Brian shook off, walked several quick circles, and sat, tail thumping. He came over to Garrett and bumped his hand, and Garrett smiled, scratching his ears.

“I guess Bailey’s going to have a new friend.” Garrett grew serious again, remembering the vision.

“I saw Drake fighting witches and vampires, and then our spell was broken. But I can’t feel our connection anymore. I’m afraid of what that means.”

Madame closed her eyes, concentrating. “That future is not clear. It may not yet be decided, or it may not be mine to see. Don’t lose hope. I sensed the bond between you. You are soulmates. He will come back to you if it is within his power to do so.”

Garrett murmured his thanks for her effort, but cold dread seized his heart. She can’t see if he’s dead or alive. I’m grateful that he fought to free Brian and me and to keep others from being hurt like that, but I want Drake to come back to me. Please let him be alive.

“Both of you have been through a lot.” Peter looked from Garrett to Brian. “I asked Bill to bring dinner for you. Eat, then sleep as long as you can. It wouldn’t be wrong to sleep an entire day, given what you’ve had to deal with.” He offered a kind smile. “Don’t lose hope. A lot can happen in a day.”

Garrett thanked them all, feeling his energy fade. He felt the absence of the curse and the vampire’s compulsion like a break in a fever or the healing of a bone-deep ache. Now, he was completely exhausted from the ordeal and heartsick with worry for Drake.

He didn’t know which of the triplets brought the food, but he thanked the man profusely. Garrett didn’t think he would have an appetite, but he found himself ravenously hungry and thought the food tasted amazing. He wondered if that was a magical incentive to eat for his own good, or whether a combination of anxiety and the physical demands of being healed stoked his hunger, but he ate everything, as did Brian.

“Sleep,” Peter said. Once they were assured that their intervention had succeeded, Madame and Errante had left while Garrett and Brian ate. “No harm will come to you. If we learn anything about Drake, I will let you know.”

Garrett retreated to the side room and sprawled on his cot. Brian nested in a blanket on the floor, within reach of the cot.

Please let Drake be safe, he begged the universe. Please bring him back to me. I just found him. I can’t lose him now.

As Garrett drifted off, he kept Drake’s face in his mind, remembering his voice, his laugh, and his touch. I love you. We’ve just started to find each other. Don’t leave me.