Wren

WREN

I watched, hidden in the wings, as Vivienne, the head aerial artiste, placed her hands around Amélie's slim waist, lifting her effortlessly onto the hoop that was suspended from the rig above us. Amélie smiled, her head turning to the side, her hair a glossy pale blonde mass of waves that spilled across her back. The glittering black leotard she wore left nothing to the imagination. The silky mask in the same sparkling black material Vivienne had provided her with covered her beautiful green eyes, but left her dusky pink lips exposed, even now, curved into a semblance of a pout as she focused on whatever instructions Vivienne was giving her.

As she gripped the sides of the hoop and leaned back, her legs kicked up. They were encased in silky black sheer stockings that emphasised the gorgeous lines of her calves and thighs. My mouth was already dry from the sight in front of me, but seeing her like this was almost too much. Amélie was beautiful at any time, but in a leotard and stockings, her hair loose and her nipples pebbling in the winter air, the outline clear beneath the clinging fabric of her leotard, she was everything my secret fantasies were made of.

"That's it." Vivienne's voice carried across the ring to my hiding place. "Hold your position as you lift into the air."

Amélie nodded, perfectly poised, and the hoop began to rise. My breath caught in my throat as Amélie fell back, hooking the backs of her knees around the bottom of the hoop, hanging upside down as it rose higher and higher.

I turned away. It was too much. Stumbling out of the big top, I made my way towards the motorhome I shared with some of the other trapeze artists. There was a troupe of us, and we ate, slept, and breathed together. But Amélie was different. She lived with us, but she was a star in the making, and Vivienne was training her up to be her eventual replacement—although that was a long time away.

"Wait." An iron grip around my wrist stopped me in my tracks, and I stopped dead, spinning around to see Teeth. The cirque clown grinned at me, revealing rows of teeth filed into sharp points, and I couldn't stop my shudder. His grin widened at the effect he had on me, and his grip tightened. "Little bird, where are you going?"

"Fuck off," I hissed. "I'm not in the mood for your games."

"Teeth." A commanding voice sounded from my left, and we both turned to the noise. Dima, the fire performer, was there, leaning against the side of his motorhome in a deceptively casual pose. One of the cirque dogs lay at his feet, also deceptively docile. I'd seen these people…and their dogs in action, and I knew they were far from casual or docile. That was the cirque way. I'd embraced it when they'd taken me in, after they'd disposed of the woman who had been my temporary guardian for a matter of weeks. I should be grateful that I hadn't been with her for any longer. I'd heard rumours…stories about some of the boys she'd been in charge of trying to escape from her, stories about what she'd done…and although I'd never been privy to her depravity, I was beyond relieved when the cirque members had Chosen her. She could never, ever hurt anyone again.

My actual guardian had made her look like a saint, though. But that was my secret, my burden to carry alone. Here, in the safety of the cirque, he'd never touch me again. And maybe one day, when I was stronger, I'd be able to share my story, and maybe, just maybe, justice would be served.

I'd been in the Cirque des Masques for twenty-two months now. Almost two years. It was, on the surface, a strange and twisted family. But Vivienne had acted as both a mentor and a counsellor, and with her care and guidance, I'd begun to heal. I'd never had a family until I'd joined the cirque, and now I did, I would never let it go.

"Dima." Teeth nodded, his grip on me loosening. "Where's your boy?"

Dima grinned, showing all his straight, white teeth. "Waiting inside for me, naked. Do you have someone to warm your bed?"

Teeth growled under his breath. "You know very well that I have your friend Darius and the delectable Florin waiting for me."

"Mmm, yes. It seems like we'll both have a good night tonight." Dima straightened up, the smirk he'd been wearing a minute ago dying away. "Don't fuck with , or you'll have to answer to me."

Teeth glanced at me, his brows pulling together, before he eventually turned back to Dima. "This is not what it looks like. I'm doing a favour for someone."

I stifled a laugh at the way Dima's brows flew up. " You ? Doing someone a favour?"

"Yes," he ground out, tugging me forwards, away from the fire performer. "Why this couldn't have waited until we reached Dover, I don't know."

An icy trickle of fear made its way down my spine. Dover ? Surely…but we couldn't be.

"D-Dover?" I whispered. "I thought we were heading northeast after this stop."

He shrugged. "We go where the business is good. We had the chance to do a midweek overnight stop in Dover, and Judge took it. We'll still reach the next place on time. Think of Dover as a bonus extra."

A bonus extra? No. No, no, no . This was no bonus. This was a nightmare in the making.

I'd never been more grateful for Teeth than I was in that moment. He sped up his pace, pulling me with him, and I had to turn all of my concentration towards trying not to stumble. When we reached the shadows, I suddenly realised that we'd been heading in a circuitous route, and we were now in front of the tent that housed the mirror maze.

"Go." He shoved me through the tent flap and then disappeared.