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The Big Top is transformed from what we practiced in earlier today, and the audience sits in tiers that seem to stretch impossibly high, their faces blurring together like a living, breathing entity. And they’ll all be watching me.

The Ringmaster appears in a burst of smoke, his voice booming across the tent as he welcomes everyone, just as he did last night. His oiled skin shines beneath red lights as girls I’ve not met walk across the stage — their breasts bare. The first act begins — the contortionist with her silver-painted body bending in ways that still seem impossible, and I wonder if she knew she could do that when she became a part of the show.

Next comes the fire-dancers. A fire-eater sends plumes of flame twenty feet into the air, the heat washing over the delighted crowd. My attention snaps when I hear a familiar voice laughing, and my eyes snap to Layla in the middle of the stage now. She dances with twin batons of fire, the flames illuminating her brown skin with an otherworldly glow. Her movements are hypnotic, just as they were last night.

“Remember what you practiced,” Kenan whispers, his lips close to my ear. “Trust yourself.”

I nod, feeling my throat tightening. I look up where the aerial hoop is waiting for me, the new addition for tonight. I fumble with the black ribbon around my wrist when Tobias’s hand stops me. How he appears and disappears like a ghost, I’ll never understand. His face is painted once again in the white and silver design I saw him in, blue eyes piercing through the diamonds. His blonde hair is slicked back.

“Leave it alone,” he says. “I’ve already told you. It makes sure you don’t get lost in the maze that is The Carnival. Without it, you would be wandering like you were last night, and I’d prefer not to lose you.”

“Tobias?” Kenan sounds genuinely surprised. “What the hell are you doing here? Thought you didn’t like to get your hands dirty.”

Tobias shoots him a dark look but doesn’t deny it. “Didn’t want our Little Bird to feel alone tonight.”

I don’t miss how the word slips from his tongue like a prayer, nor how he uses the possessive our.

“How touching,” Kenan mutters, and there’s something in his voice that doesn’t match the sarcasm.

“What if I fall?” I ask, almost to myself.

Kenan’s hand finds mine, squeezing once. “You won’t, Kitten.”

“And if you do,” Tobias adds, his fingers brushing against my other hand, “we’ll catch you.”

The Ringmaster’s voice booms through the tent. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, for her debut performance ... the newest member of our family!”

Chapter 15

Emerson makes her way to the aerial hoop, her movements hesitant but as mesmerizing as everything else about her. The lights catch her hair just right as she navigates between the ropes and pulley, her fingers trembling almost unnoticeably.

Kenan stands beside me, his shoulder just brushing mine. The heat of him burns through my long sleeves like the brand we all wear. I catch the subtle shift in his stance, the tightening of his jaw as his eyes follow Emerson.

“Why are you here, Tobias?” He asks. “You never come to the Big Top shows.”

I keep my expression carefully neutral. “Let’s call it … a professional curiosity.”

He snorts. “Bullshit.”

I don’t answer, but instead watch as he pulls out his nasty little habit of cigarettes from his back pocket, lighting one. He’s wrong, though, I’m always here. Watching from the shadows, tracking his movements and remembering the lines of his body as he throws his knives. I’ve been watching him for decades, but I’ve also become skilled at making sure he doesn’t notice me. Until today.

Today, I had to come out just for a little. Perhaps it’s the way Emerson’s presence seems to be shifting something in him … and me.

Or maybe I’m just growing tired of hiding.

Kenan’s eyes narrow as he studies my face, searching for answers that I won’t give. The faint scar along his jawline whitens just a little as he clenches his teeth. Most don’t even realize it’s there, but I have to fight the urge to trace it with my fingertip, the way I once did. When I was allowed to touch him.

Kenan takes a long drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing bright orange. Smoke curls from his lips as he exhales and I watch the smokey tendrils dance between us.

“You’re staring,” he says flatly.

I look away. “Force of habit.”

“Thought your habit was lurking in the shadows,” his voice has an edge to it. “I’m not stupid, Tobias. I know when you’re watching.”

Well, so much for that idea. I truly thought I had been careful enough.

“How long have you known?”