Flesh Circus

Chapter Six

Galina’s shop windows shone with featureless yellow light behind paper-thin blinds. The telephone poles marching alongside the road in this part of town were festooned with paper. As I cut the engine, looking at the one right next to the car, I saw a huge painted poster stapled over the weathered drift of concert announcements and nudie-bar placards.

Come To The Circus! Art Deco flowers festooned the edges, and in the middle was a grinning clown’s face, deep lines in its paint, leering at the street. A suggestion of fangs touched the greased lower lip, and the clown’s eyebrows came up to high peaks. A dusting of corruption lay over the paper, visible only to my blue eye.

There was no address. Of course, the people who wanted to would find it. That’s the way it works.

My mouth went dry. “Jeez.”

Saul barely gave it a glance. “Trashy.” He opened his door, flicking his Charvil into the gutter.

A shadow moved in the plate-glass front of the shop across the street. I eyed it for a few moments, took my time opening my door. Blue fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror rocked slowly to a halt—Galina’s gift, a replacement for the red ones that had gone up in flames with my Impala.

The thought still pissed me off. I’d nursed that car back into shape from a rusted hulk in a wrecking yard. All that work and effort gone in a few heartbeats, dying in the barrio.

Saul hadn’t asked any questions when I picked him up from the train station in the Pontiac. I was glad about that.

The shadow in Galina’s window moved again. I slid out of the car, slammed my door, and eased a gun free of the holster. Saul had paused at the rear of the car, his head up, hot wind touching his hip-length leather jacket and making the fringe move a little. His dark eyes flicked to the gun in my hand, and he straightened infinitesimally before stepping out into the road.

He followed two steps behind and to my left, carefully out of the way but close enough if I should need him. The skin between my shoulder blades twitched a little when I crossed the centerline—it hadn’t been so long ago that I’d been right in the middle of the street and got chewed up by an assault rifle. They’d used copper-jacketed lead, the dumb bunnies, instead of silver to hurt a helltainted hunter.

Everyone skipping and scrambling to kill me, when if they’d just left me alone they could have quietly had their bioweapon and their higher-up from Hell stepping through to make my entire city—hell, probably the entire country—a wasteland before I could stop them. There wouldn’t have been a damn thing I could do about it. I’d only been poking around the suicide of Monty’s old partner, not looking for a serious dose of lead poisoning or a firebombed car.

I wasn’t far enough away from that case yet for my body to forget. A prickle of chill touched the curve of my lower back.

The body remembers, and the body knows. You can override that knowing with enough training, but it’s still never pleasant.

The blinds twitched and one moved aside slightly. The shape in the window was Galina, her marcel-waved hair an immaculate cap as always. Her green eyes sparked as the sheet of etheric energy folding over her shop changed slightly, like light refracting through a waterfall. Even my dumb eye could sense the reverberations, watering and tingling. The scar prickled.

“She looks worried,” Saul murmured.

“No shit,” I muttered back. Inside her shop, Galina’s will is law—she is, after all, a Sanctuary. But anything could happen on the way up to her doorstep.

And who knew what was waiting for us around here? It wasn’t like her to call more than once. They all know the drill, everyone who dials me—I’ll get around to you sooner or later, unless I’m being shot, strangled, knifed, electrocuted, thrown off a building, or doing anything else fun and interesting.

I opened the door cautiously. The bell jingled. I stepped carefully through the curtain of Sanc warding.

“Thank God.” She was in her robes, the pigeon-throat gray shifting and the mark of the Order—a silver medallion, the quartered circle inside a serpent’s hoop, snake eating its own tail—at her throat. I gave the shop a quick glance—nothing visible. I relaxed fractionally, didn’t reholster the gun. Something was off here. “You won’t need that, Jill, I’ve got everything—”

“Is it her?” A rumble of Helletöng slid under the words, and the windows chattered, both with Galina’s wordless shout and the lash of a hellbreed’s voice.

Coming from inside.

Usually, my instinct would be to dive away from something like that. This time, though, I pitched forward, my shoulder smacking hard against the bottom of a display case running along the right side of the store. Glass shivered and whickered loose. Saul let out a short sharp yell, I finished rolling, gaining my feet in a single convulsive movement and ending up with both guns pointed straight at a very familiar-looking ’breed.

The Ringmaster held his cane like a staff, the crystal at its head spitting with venomous green as he stood next to the cash register. His eyes ran with wet orange hellfire. His hair was lifting on a slight screaming breeze from nowhere, standing up in wet black spikes. This time he was in a battered red velvet coat and actual jodhpurs, but it didn’t make him look ridiculous.

No, he looked like he belonged on a carton of animal crackers. A really twisted, ugly carton sopping with blood and other nasty liquids.

“We came to this town in good faith, hunter.” The faint lines on the ridge of bone masquerading as teeth were grimed with something dark. “We came to cleanse and to—”

“Stand down.” My voice sliced through his. Behind me, Saul’s warning growl rose, rattling the entire place no less than Galina’s anger or the wave of hellbreed agitation. “This is a Sanctuary. Calm the fuck down.”

“Both of you.” The air hardened under Galina’s words. “You. Stand over there, or I will send you back to Hell. I’m not joking.”

“She isn’t, you know.” This was Perry, who stood with his back to the rest of us, bending down to peer inside a glass display case that held several crystal balls, mummified alligators, and a stacked display of Etteila tarot cards. Something rippled on his back, under the white linen suit jacket. “I suggest you calm yourself.”

“What the hell’s going on?” I didn’t lower the gun, and Galina’s walls ran with rivulets of etheric force, cascading in sheets. The lightshow was amazing, but it could just as easily turn on me as on the hellbreed. “Galina?”

“Stand over there.” Her voice rang like a gong, and the Ringmaster grudgingly paced to the exact spot she pointed to on the hardwood floor, his thin body twitching with mutiny. His hair actually writhed, the spikes touching each other with little balloon-squealing sounds. The fraying nap of his red velvet coat crawled with corruption-dust, and his fingers twisted and twitched.

Galina gave me a meaningful look, and I slowly, slowly lowered my guns. The glass shards on the floor stirred, quivering. “Someone give me a vowel.”

“We are in a very special place right now, Kismet.” Perry still didn’t turn to face any of us. “Let us absorb the full implications.”

“Where have you been, hunter?” The Ringmaster jabbed his cane at me, the crystal popping off one diseased-green spark. “We came here in good faith!”

“I’ve been chasing a child-killer and doing exorcisms.” Every nerve in my body cried out in protest when I holstered the guns. “More than enough fun and games to keep me busy. Whatever’s happened to you, I’m not involved with it.” I licked my dry lips. Saul straightened from his crouch behind me. It was good to feel him there, even while I was worrying about two hellbreed in front of me and the look on Galina’s face. “Yet.”

“There has been an attack.” Perry finally turned, slowly, and it was almost a relief to see him still wearing his blond, bland face. He was also grinning, lips pulled back in a rictus and his eyes burning gasflame-blue. There was no indigo spreading and scarring the whites, though.

That was good news. How good remained to be seen. “Attack?” That was the bad news. “What kind of attack?”

“A Cirque performer, my dear.” Perry stuffed his hands in his pockets and tilted his blond head. It ruined the lines of his suit, but I suppose he thought it made him look less dangerous. Or something. “A certain fortune-teller appears to have gone to collect her eternal reward. With some help, I might add.”

For a few seconds the words refused to make sense. Then they slammed home, and I took a deep breath. My face felt very cold, and I suspected I’d gone even paler than my usual night-working fishbelly. “You’re kidding.” It was the only thing I could think of to say.

“You see?” Perry’s grin didn’t alter in the slightest. “I vouch for her shock, brother. My Kismet is altogether too intelligent for such a blatant act.”

“Shut up, Hyperion.” The Ringmaster’s cane dipped. He watched me, his orange gaze swirling with dust and crawling all down my body. “You will swear you had no part in this, hunter?”

“For Christ’s sake.” I resisted the urge to draw a knife, or better yet, limber my gun up and make the world a better place with a few well-placed headshots. “The hostage is your good behavior. Why the hell would I want to attack any of your people?” Other than their being hellbreed, which is enough reason to seriously tempt me.

“To erase the rest of—” The Ringmaster’s eyes flicked toward Perry, who pursed his lips. A number of things occurred to me just then, and I actually had to stuff my tongue into my cheek and bite down to keep from making a snarky comment.

They were actually thinking I’d go after the entire Cirque, given enough reason. But the Ringmaster wouldn’t be so upset unless he seriously thought I had a chance at actually pulling it off.

It was an unintentional compliment. Being feared by hellbreed isn’t a nice thing, but it’s damn useful, and pleasant when it can smooth your way a little bit.

My heart rate eased a little bit. Saul crowded closer behind me. The bell on the door jangled slightly, thrumming under the murderous tension. Galina relaxed, fractionally.

“All right.” I tried not to sound relieved. “This is the first I’ve heard about an attack on the Cirque—which I consider just as bad news for me as it is for you. I give you my word I have nothing to do with it. But I’m about to.” I took a deep breath. My pulse smoothed out a little bit more, and my eyes skipped between the two ’breed, each of them vibrating with barely controlled rage. Perry hid it better, but I’ve been around him too much, for too long, to trust his outward appearance. “I’ve got some business to transact with my Sanctuary, here. Then I’ll be out at the Cirque to take a look at what’s going on. I’ll find out who’s behind this and take appropriate action. In the meantime, you’ll keep your noses clean.” Put the sting in the tail, Jill. “Perry, you’ll meet me at the Cirque.”

“I do not—” The Ringmaster began.

“I think it’s best, don’t you?” Perry interjected smoothly, taking a single step closer. “So nobody is tempted to run amok while my dear Kiss is on the scene. It would be so embarrassing to have a hunter become justified in killing a few more of your performers.” He didn’t look at the other ’breed, though. Instead, he was staring at me like he was hungry and I was a bowl of lunch.

I wish I could say I didn’t know that look. But men have been giving it to me all my life.

The other ’breed stared at me, the pumpkin hellfire smearing from his irises not abating one iota. I was suddenly glad we were inside Galina’s shop. If he moved on me she’d drop him—or more precisely, the Sanctuary warding on the walls would. If all else failed, it would give me enough time to put a few silverjacket slugs in him. And maybe sink a knife right into one of those orange-glowing eyes.

“If I find that you are, indeed, involved in this… unfortunate… event—” The cane twirled smartly, the crystal hissing as it clove unresisting air.

That’s the trouble with this job. It’s full of threats, both veiled and naked. After a while it gets ho-hum. Except when you’re dealing with Hell’s scions. The slippery, twisting, twitchy bastards threaten all the time—and they’ll get away with what they can.

“I sure hope that wasn’t a threat,” I remarked to the empty air over his black-spiked head. “Because for a member of the Cirque de Charnu to threaten a resident hunter is exceeding bad taste. Not to mention stupid. And dangerous. And—”

“That’s it.” Galina stepped forward just as the Ringmaster did, a synchronized movement that would have been funny if the hellbreed hadn’t been hissing like a steam kettle. “Both Perry and I vouch for our hunter’s innocence. Go back to your home and wait. You’ve said and done enough here.”

Our hunter. A pucker of hot liquid prickling filled the scar. The bottom dropped out of my stomach. Perry grinned like he had just gotten a Christmas present full of snackable entrails. Galina, however, didn’t notice anything.

Great.

Crackling tension rose another notch. The Ringmaster paced toward me, and I realized he would have to pass very close to get out the front door. I stepped aside, so did Saul, and I did my best to keep myself between him and the ’breed. The smooth incense quiet of Galina’s shop trembled like the skin atop fresh milk. My hands literally itched for a weapon.

The Ringmaster halted for a bare second. Adrenaline spiked through my bloodstream. I caught a whiff of sawdust and glitter, spice and fried food, with the faint thunderous note of rotting underneath. The edges of his red frock coat twitched, as if tiny insect feet were stabbing the threadbare crimson velvet from underneath.

Amazingly, he didn’t stop to threaten me again. He just passed by with a sound like fresh-tanned leather crumpling and banged out the door, leaving a scrim of evil little laughter in his wake. I let out the breath I hadn’t been holding—I’d inhaled deeply, ready for the explosion.

“Now you, Perry.” Thunder smoked and roiled under Galina’s voice. “I’ve business to transact with Jill.”

“What if I do, too?” He grinned and leaned forward, his toes digging into the floor. “Business with my hunter.”

“Perry.” Just the one word. Galina’s eyes turned incandescent. The silver at her throat sparked, a clean springtime green swirling at the surface of the metal. “It would be undignified to be tossed out of here on your ass.”

“True.” He rocked back on his heels, grinned at both of us. “I bid you a civil adieu, then, ladies.” A wink and a flash of pearly teeth between his bloodless lips, and he slid past me like a burning wind. Halfway out the door he vanished, leaving behind strangled little whispers before the door banged closed and I heard footsteps pattering away down the street, far too fast and light to be human.

My shoulders dropped. I let out another, far gustier sigh, and Galina swayed before she pulled herself upright. The glass on the floor quivered again. I watched as the broken pieces of the display case twitched slightly, arranged along spiraling rays of reaction.

Huh. That’s interesting.

Saul’s hands caught my shoulders. “You okay?” He sounded worried.

I realized the scar was twitching against the underside of my arm as if an enthusiastic seamstress was pleating the skin. At least Perry hadn’t really tried to play with it. “Just ducky. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Someone’s looking to kill Cirque performers?”

Galina said it, so I didn’t have to. “Or they have a deeper plan, and they’re going to try to pin anything that happens on you. I don’t like this.”

“Sorry about your display case.” I stared, willing the pattern to come clear, and finally blinked it away when it refused. Hunters always become full-blown psychics before the end of their apprenticeships; damn useful when dealing with the nightside. But sometimes intuition won’t tell you anything. It will just muddy the waters.

I looked up to find the Sanctuary studying me, a line between her dark eyebrows. “Don’t worry about that.” Galina was pale, and shaking just the slightest bit.

“Oh, Christ,” I said. “Drop the other shoe. And get me some more ammo. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”