Page 17 of Carnival of Crows

Spencer stared at the bottles like they had personally betrayed him as Damien finally exhaled. Spencer disappeared behind the counter, muttering, but I didn’t look away from Damien. I couldn’t. It wasn’t just the skill. It was the ease, the way he didn’t celebrate, didn’t smirk, he didn’t even seem surprised.

He turned back toward me and for a second, I forgot the carnival existed.

Spencer reappeared holding the stuffed crow. It was all soft black plush and big, adorable button eyes with tiny stitched wings tucked neatly against its sides.

He dropped it into Damien’s hands like surrendering a hostage.

“There you go, cheater,” Spencer said with annoyance.

“How the hell could I have cheated?” Damien’s eyes furrowed. With a shake of his head, he, now, smirked. He stepped forward and held the crow out to me. “Your crow, milady.”

I took it carefully. It was softer than I expected. I hugged it instinctively against my chest.

“Oh my God.” I looked down at it. “I love him.”

Damien’s mouth twitched when Spencer loudly yelled from the booth behind us.

“CASSIE!”

Damien groaned.

“Your brother just won a girl a stuffed animal!”

As Cassie closed the space between us, her and Spencer very loudly went back and forth about how cute it was that Damien won me the crow. He didn’t seem fazed by their teasing though, he just stood there, sighing dramatically here and there and shaking his head at them.

When she joined us, she apologized and said that she needed to steal her brother for a few. Which was just as well, my friends were all but gawking at us.

“No worries,” I said. “I got what I needed.”

I squeezed the crow tightly to my body.

“Before I go,” Damien started. “I need to hear you say that my midway is not rigged. The last thing I need is you popping on the internet that I’m a con man.”

I laughed, because I thought he was joking, but he looked at me with raised brows.

“Oh, you’re serious,” I said, straightening my face. “I do not think you are a con man and I will be sure to write how your midway is, in fact, not rigged.”

“Good.” With a nod, he turned to Cassie and the two of them started walking back from where we started the night. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed that she pulled him away, but he was working and, technically, so was I.

When I rejoined my friends, they all started sputtering questions at me a million miles a minute.

“Is anyone hungry?” I asked. “We should go find some food.”

CHAPTER 8

Luci

Agood haunted attraction wasn’t just measured in screams. Anyone could hide an actor behind a wall and make someone jump. The best ones built an entire world.

Which meant the food mattered. The staff mattered. Even the bathrooms mattered, unfortunately. Every detail outside the scares either strengthened the illusion or cracked it wide open. That was why, after nearly an hour of being in the park, I steered the girls toward a silver vendor trailer parked along the edge of the midway.

A hand-painted sign above the window read:

KELLY’S MIDWAY TREATS

Beneath it, someone had added:

HOT CIDER • FRIED DOUGH • ROASTED PEANUTS