Chapter Eight

Killian stood on a ladder, washing the tall hand-painted banners outside the freakshow tent, the colorful ones that advertised each of the attractions to be seen inside. It was a ten-in-one show, meaning there were ten acts inside to be seen for the cost of a single admission. He pushed a long-handled mop up and down each banner, then hosed off the soap and dust.

“Killian? I need to talk to you.” Rodney stepped up to the base of the ladder and craned his neck, looking up.

Glancing down, Killian made no move to stop what he was doing. “Sorry, bub. Show don’t start until three. Come back then. Ticket booth will be open.”

“Killian, I don’t want tickets to the show. I need to talk to you and Micah.”

“Look, I don’t know who you are, but—”

“Yes, you do. You don’t know it, but you do. I’m Rodney.”

“Mister, the only Rodney I know is an asshole rooster that, for some unfathomable reason, nobody’s been able to catch and cook.”

“Yeah, that’d be me.” Rodney took a look around to make sure they were alone, then shifted into his rooster-form. He just as quickly shifted back into his man-form. “See?”

Killian gaped at Rodney, then lost his balance. His arms pinwheeled as he fell off the ladder. Luckily for him, he landed on the man who was accompanying Rodney, a bigger fellow who cushioned Killian’s fall.

“Jeez, you weigh a ton!” the man said from underneath Killian.

“Yeah, that happens when you’re a gargoyle-shifter,” Killian grumbled. He heaved himself off the stranger. “Who are you? Another rooster-shifter?”

“No, I’m a turkey-shifter.” Gideon scrambled to his feet and dusted himself off.

“Well, goody for you. Rodney, I ought to wring your scrawny neck right here and now! What the hell have you been doing? Why didn’t anybody know you were a shifter? Why have you been giving us all hell for so many years?” Killian was working himself into a fine fury.

Rodney lifted his chin, a touch of pride in his eyes. “I can explain everything, but Micah needs to hear it, too.”

“I decide what Micah needs to hear!” Killian growled.

“Who decides what Micah needs to hear? I think Micah is the only one who decides that.” A young, slender, handsome man walked out from the tent. He held a snake, a big, yellow boa constrictor, wrapped around his shoulders and right arm. “I was just taking Mildred over to Doc McCready for her six-month checkup and heard voices out here. Killian, what’s going on?”

“You’re not going to believe it, Micah. This asshole here,” Killian said, kicking some dust toward Rodney, “Is Rodney the rooster. The one that’s been haranguing the rodeo for years.”

Micah’s eyes grew wide. “You’re a shifter? How come nobody knew?”

Rodney sighed. “It’s a long story, and it’s time I told you both because we need your help.”

“Oh, fat chance, feather-face. After all the pecks and squawks we’ve dealt with, you have the nerve to ask for our help?” Killian huffed.

Micah laid a gentle hand on Killian’s arm. “I want to hear him out. Everyone deserves to be heard, Killian. If nobody had listened to me, I’d still be stuck performing in a half-shifted form in the sideshow.”

Killian rolled his eyes but nodded. He knew it was true. Micah had been captured as a child and fit with an implant that caused him to stay in a painful, half-shifted form. He was billed as the Snake Boy. It was only after Killian listened to him and learned Micah wasn’t the beast they made him out to be, that Killian was able to save him. “Okay. Come to the trailer. I suppose you don’t want anyone else to hear what you’ve got to say.”

“Not yet. You and Micah are the strongest of us all. I needed your commitment first… then others may be willing to help us out.” Rodney slipped his hand into Gideon’s, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by Killian.

“You and him are a couple?”

“We are now,” Rodney said. “Ain’t we?”

“Yes, sir, we are,” Gideon answered.

Killian sniffed. “Guess it goes to show there’s somebody for everybody. You know what this fool you’re with has been doing all these years?”

Gideon nodded. “Yes, and if you listen to him, you’ll understand why he did it. You call him a fool and other names, but he’s the bravest man I’ve ever met.”

***

They sat in Killian and Micah’s trailer while Rodney and Gideon told them all about the Red Wattle Clan, about how Daniel Riggs had tried to kill Rodney over a simple kiss, and how Rodney had lost his eye to Daniel for the same reason. How Daniel had sworn to kill Rodney and anyone who gave him shelter. How he stayed in rooster-form all the time to protect the Darque and Knight Rodeo from the Red Wattle Clan.

Rodney concluded his story with a plea for help. “But now they know I’m here. They’re going to come after Gideon and me. We need you two to help fight them off, to finish them once and for all. A one-eyed rooster and a turkey-shifter aren’t enough to do it alone.”

“Just supposing we believe you—and I’m not saying we do—what do you want us to do about it?” Killian asked.

Micah smacked Killian on the arm. “Of course we believe you. Why else would you stay in rooster-form all the time and never tell anyone you were a shifter? I can’t imagine how lonely your life must’ve been. What do you have planned?”

Rodney spread his hands. “We know their new headquarters are in a seedy sort of tavern not far from here called the Bar None. My plan is for us to go there and attack, before they can come here and kill Gideon and me and anyone else they fear might know the truth about the Red Wattles. Get them to change their mind about blowing up the turkey farm, too.”

“Not much of a plan.” Killian smirked.

“No, but you’re a gargoyle-shifter, and Micah is a dragon-shifter. Two of the most powerful shifters in the entire pantheon of shifters. If nothing else, seeing you will put the fear of God into them. Make them think twice about coming after the Darque and Knight Rodeo. After, I’ll pack up my shit and leave. The rodeo folks will be safe with me gone.”

“You’re not going anywhere!” Micah said firmly. “This has been your home for decades, and you did what you did to protect us all! Of course, we’ll help you. This is our home, too.”

Killian gaped at his mate. “Micah! What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I’m going to help. And so are you. Who else did you have in mind to ask?” Micah’s tone shut Killian down, and he looked at Rodney.

“Blaze. He’s not a shifter, but he’s psychic, and will know if what they’re saying is the truth. And Chuff. He’s a hippo shifter, and they can be meaner than a hornet’s nest when they get riled up.”

“You might want to ask a few of the warlocks who spell the rodeo to keep out humans. They know a lot of magic, and might be able to help,” Micah said.

Rodney nodded. He’d thought of that, too. He just wasn’t sure how many people of the rodeo would be willing to help him after all the irritation and trouble he’d caused over the years, even if it was for a good cause.

“What about Darque and Knight? It’s their rodeo, after all,” Killian asked.

“They’re having their own troubles at the moment. In fact, nobody’s even seen them in a while,” Rodney said. “I’d like to take care of this quickly and without bloodshed.”

“Killian and I will speak to Blaze and Chuff. You go talk to the warlocks.” Micah stood up, effectively ending the meeting.

They shook hands on it, although Rodney admitted Killian’s handshake was less than warm. He couldn’t blame the guy—he’d not given anyone at the rodeo a reason to like him, let alone do a favor of this magnitude for him. But then, he realized, Killian wasn’t doing it for Rodney—he was doing it for the good of the rodeo.

That, Rodney decided, was good enough.

Rodney and Gideon left the freakshow and went in search of the warlocks who worked to keep the invisibility spell surrounding the rodeo intact. They usually congregated in a tent set up just outside of the ticket sales booth at the rodeo’s front gate.

“Rodney! Finally decided to pay us a visit, huh?” Loran, one of the chief warlocks met them just inside the tent.

Rodney blinked his one eye and cocked his head. “Y-you know who I am?”

“Of course I do. We all do. We’re psychics, too, after all, in addition to being weavers of magical spells. Blaze isn’t here, but I can see in your mind that Killian and Micah are going to speak to him on your behalf anyway. Now, let me see… how can we help you?” Loran tapped his chin with one long, bony finger. “Ah! The Red Wattle Clan. Of course. I should have known they’d come after you sooner or later. And this is… Gideon, is it? Very nice to meet you. Of course we’ll help you. We need to protect this rodeo, and that includes from anyone who would do us or ours harm.”

Rodney was put a little off-kilter by the rapid-fire one-sided conversation. He should have realized that a psychic would be able to pick the information directly out of Rodney’s head before he had the time to spit it out of his mouth, but seeing it done was off-putting. “Um, yeah. We’d hoped you would help us.”

Loran continued. “I will say I don’t agree with us marching off to this seedy little bar to take on the clan. They would have the home-turf advantage. It would be much to our benefit to stay in our own backyard. There are many here who would jump into the fray once it became clear that we were under attack. Lion-shifters, bears… even the demon bulls would defend us. I believe we would have the strongest chance of success if we waited for the Red Wattle Clan to come to us.”

“Your spell won’t keep any of them out of the rodeo. They’re all shifters,” Rodney said. He didn’t like the idea broached by Loran, not one bit.

Loran clucked his tongue. “Of course not. It’s not meant to keep out paranormals of any variety. They will come here looking for you and find all of us instead.”

“They’ll be armed!” Rodney yelled. He jumped when Gideon gave him an elbow to the ribs. “They won’t come in here barehanded!”

“Rodney, keep your voice down!” Gideon hissed. “Loran is trying to help us, not fight with us.”

“It’s alright, Gideon. Rodney has your safety at heart. I can see you both care for the other. A new love, just beginning to blossom. It warms this old warlock’s heart.” He smiled at them. “And another reason to protect you and everyone else in the rodeo. I have seen what Daniel Riggs did to you, Rodney. It is unforgiveable, and I will not allow him to do such harm to you or anyone else ever again.”

Gods help him, but Rodney believed Loran. The old man’s eyes sparked with righteous anger, and he looked stronger than his years might have warranted. “All right, Loran. We’ll play it your way. But if it looks like things are going bad, I want your solemn oath that you will get Gideon out of here.”

“Rodney!” Gideon looked aghast. “I’m not a child!”

“No,” Rodney said, turning to Gideon. He put his hand up to silence Gideon’s protest. “But you’re the one I care for. In the short time I’ve known you, you’ve come to mean more to me than anyone else. I told you before, if things go south, I want you to go somewhere safe, and you agreed!”

Loran chuckled. “Yes, I believe Alaska is the furthest you can go without a passport. But I doubt it will come to that. Now, let me talk to my fellow warlocks. We’ll come up with a spell that should disarm any weapons the Red Wattle Clan may bring in with them.”

“Can you do that?” Gideon asked.

“Of course we can. We’re quite powerful. But while we can probably take care of firepower, knives and other weapons might be more problematic to neutralize. Butmaybe we can think of something else.”

“We’ll take what we can get. When do you think they may attack?” Rodney asked. “Can you see the future? Do you know?”

“The future is always shrouded in gray. It’s like looking through a dirty window—things are never clear. But I have the feeling it will be very soon,” Loran answered. He showed them to the door. “Go on now. Get some rest. I think you’re going to need it. And remember this—while strength is in numbers, sometimes, just sometimes, that number is two.”