AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Such sharp words,” he said. “Your tongue ought to come with a warning.”
“Truth is often compared to a blade,” I said. “I question those who marvel when it pricks.”
Liza stood behind him, subtly shaking her head, but the smile on her face told me she approved of my comment. She was my partner in all things equality. We women could be called creatures, if only the men who said such careless words accepted our claws were fearsome things when we decided to scratch.
Much to my utter amazement, he laughed. “Miss Wadsworth, I—”
A young woman squeezed between us, a glass of champagne in each hand as her two friends pushed in beside her. She nervously stuck a glass out, offering it to the young ringmaster. He politely took it but did not sip from it—he still appeared a bit amused by my response.
“You were incredible opening night, Mr. Mephistopheles. Absolutely marvelous, even,” the young woman said, taking a long pull of her champagne. She winced, likely from drinking the bubbles too quickly, her cheeks flushing bright. “A few of us were wondering if you might try a new trick just for us. Surely you can’t best all of us.”
Giggles erupted from the small crowd around us. Liza grinned. It was quite a scandalous offer, one I couldn’t help smiling over myself. I liked these girls. There was something bold about them that reminded me of my friends Ileana and Daciana. A twinge of sadness pinched my core—I wished they were on the ship with us, but they were settling things in Romania after the Dracula case. They promised they might board another ship and meet us in America next month if they could, something I hoped for dearly.
The ringmaster’s lips curled up at the edges, though his eyes were stubbornly stuck to mine while he considered their offer. I quirked a brow, waiting. He turned toward the young women and bowed deeply. “Of course. But only if I get to choose my next victim.”
One of the giggling friends broke off her laughter. “Victim?”
“Indeed,” Mephistopheles said. “I can think of no better term for the crime of seduction about to be committed, can you?”
“No, I suppose I cannot.”
She shook her head and stepped closer to her friends. The handsomely dressed girls all exchanged glances; it wasn’t quite what they had hoped, but it was an interesting bargain nonetheless. Two of them nodded, and the one who’d conducted the exchange bit her lip, seeming to consider accepting this or trying a counteroffer but finally assented.
“Very well, sir. Which of us do you choose?”
He indicated his prey. “Her.”
I nearly choked on my own sip of champagne when I realized he was pointing at me. No good could come of this interest, indeed. I didn’t know what game Mephistopheles was playing, but, I supposed, whether I wanted to or not, I was about to join him.
There was no denying the thrill that sparked through me at being chosen for this next act, though it wasn’t because of the enigmatic masked man leading me to the center of the women’s parlor. This was a remarkable opportunity to observe his sleight of hand up close—to dissect his performance and witness the tactics he used to distract both victim, as he called me, and audience.
“Ladies, I have been requested to perform for you.” Mephistopheles held my gloved hand in his, raising it shoulder level for all to see. “Miss Wadsworth will be playing the role of willing victim. If you please, I’ll need everyone to gather in a circle around us. Pretend as if we’re about to hold a séance. I’m sure you’ve all attended one or two of those.”
He snapped his fingers, and a liveried waiter produced a small chair from one of the side tables and set it in the center of the newly made ring. Women whispered excitedly, gazes hungry for more scandalous magic. Or perhaps they were simply happy to feast on the young ringmaster a bit more. I felt the power of their stares drift from Mephistopheles and settle on me as I stood there, unsure of where to go. Of all evenings for me to wear a sleeveless gown, I felt exposed and vulnerable.
I twisted my mother’s ring about my finger, then stopped. I focused on the room, hoping to calm my growing nerves as Mephistopheles adjusted his top hat and suit. I didn’t care for such scrutiny, as if I were nothing more than a slide under a microscope. Houdini slowly made his way toward Liza, his focus drifting over to the ringmaster only occasionally as he took leave of several young women.
“Next, I request the lights be dimmed.” A moment later, the chandeliers pulsed with brighter light before trickling down to a dull, golden glow. “I ask that you all take one large step back on the count of three. One. Two. Three.”
My breath caught. It was unnerving, hearing the entire room move as one. Mephistopheles truly did command them like a puppet master. Everyone was silhouetted in the dim light, shadow people dancing around a devil’s bonfire. I could have sworn I smelled the scent of burning wood, though I knew it to be an impossibility.
I flicked my gaze to the ringmaster as he walked around the crowd and came to a halt before me. The red of his vest reflected in his mask when he tilted his face down, motioning for me to take the seat. I hesitated, recalling the two victims, then forced my feet to carry me over to whatever sinful delight Mephistopheles had planned. I would not lose my life in front of so many witnesses.
“Watch closely,” he said, hardly above a whisper, “or you’ll miss it.”
He circled me now, hands trailing from my bare shoulders all the way around my neck, his touch almost as electric as the lights in the ship. I no longer felt the stares of the women surrounding us—I could only concentrate on his gloved fingertips, never straying from the path he’d chosen while he moved around me, picking up speed with each pass. It was almost scandalous, but not quite, the line too indistinguishable this close to decency. His movements were sure and steady, unlike my pulse.
Except for one slip of his hand caressing the nape of my neck—perhaps a kind gesture of apology—I noticed no change from when he began circling me to when he abruptly stepped back. My skin felt both scorched and ice cold where his fingers had been, as unsure as I was about the entire situation. Women snapped their fans open, the sound drawing me back to the room.
“Did you watch closely?” The ringmaster asked, voice cool and smooth as silk. As if still in a trance of their own, everyone nodded, murmuring, “Yes.” I doubted they could’ve looked away from the charismatic man if they tried. He bent down, placing his mouth dangerously close to my ear. My skin prickled; this time I knew exactly why. “Is something valuable missing, Miss Wadsworth? Something you’d do anything to get back?”
I shook my head, hoping to set my mind straight with the action. “No, I don’t believe so.”
And I meant it. Though his fingers were quite a distraction, I kept my focus on them entirely; not once did they leave my skin. He dropped to one knee, eyes dancing when they met mine. “Strange. I could have sworn I’d just stolen your heart.”
“I beg—”
“As do most young women I encounter, I’m afraid.”
