Dark Perceptions (Mystic's Carnival Collective) (4 page)

“My, you’re full of questions, aren’t you? Don’t you remember?”
 

“No. No, I…” Matt shook his head. “It’s all a bit fuzzy. I only want to get us to the car and out of here.”

Matt’s memory was a bad as mine. I should have questioned him immediately, instead of basking in his presence. I didn’t think we’d smoked that much. I pushed my thoughts away and pressed forward, into the conversation. “We want to go home.”

The strange man calling himself Higgins chuckled and small cracks formed at the edges of his eyes. His cheeks rose and turned soft pink, brightening his grey peepers. “I expected that coming from you, my dear.”

“You did?” I squeezed behind Matt, seeking his body as a shield. But why? I was strong. I could be tough and stand up for myself. “Then could you direct us toward the parking lot?”

“Parking lot?” Higgins said the words like they were a question to be pondered more than a request. “I don’t know if you’ll find a parking lot. Unless, of course, she wants you to find one.”

“What are you talkin’ about?” Matt straightened, stood tall. “She who?”

“The carnival, of course.”

“Dude. You’re crazy.” Matt spun around, grabbed my hand firm in his, and started moving us down the dark aisle, away from
him
and the Big Top. Matt’s unusual neck marking bounced like a firefly showing me the way. Games and sideshow tents pushed in at our sides. Like space was compressing, getting smaller by the minute. Trying to trap us in Freak Man’s Alley. Wolfman, human pincushion, woman with two faces, all images jumping off posters and swimming around me mockingly, scratching and nipping at me. Maybe it was my imagination; my overwhelming desire to rid us of this place churned every horror movie scenario around in my mind, like a vacillating jar of maggots.
 

“If you won’t let me help you, please listen to Sebastian. He’ll get you to Big Eli.” Higgins’s voice shrank behind us as we made our way past canvas tents shrouded in purple and white. Black pennants hung across the tent fronts, flapping in the night breeze. A breeze that brought the stink of midway sawdust and animal manure.
 

“Sebastian. Eli,” Matt grumbled. “More people we don’t need to deal with.”

“We’re going to be okay.” The words stumbled out loud and clear, with me needing to hear them to believe them. I looked to Matt, wanting him to believe in them, too. I saw him, really saw him, all of him, for the first time since the crazy ordeal had begun, and my mind clouded. “What happened?” My voice pitched, rose an octave, before I lurched over and pulled at his shirt to get a closer look. Suspicious red stains littered what should have been crisp white cotton. I stretched the fabric for a better inspection.

He didn’t react. Didn’t glance down. Instead, he kept his gaze steady on me. “Don’t worry about it, Sara. Probably just a spilled drink. That’s why I went to the restroom, to clean up.” With a gentleman’s touch he removed my grip and eased my hands into his own, turning us back on our mission, moving down the path, urgency fueling our pace. “I want to get out, before something else gives us trouble. Like that guy the little dude mentioned.”

My feet raced to keep up and I stretched my neck, hoping he’d hear when I spoke. “Do you think that’s what the old guy meant when he told us to look for Big Eli, or…or, um…” I searched my memory for the other name. “Sebastian?”

Matt pushed his way past a large group gawking at the two-headed, four-breasted woman in the tent to our left. “Hell if I know.” His words forced their way between clenched teeth.
 

“Eli isn’t a person, honey.”

The voice wrapped around us, sweeter than sugar and smooth as lotion sliding over freshly shaved skin. Slick and slippery.
 

Matt stopped so fast I thought he might trip over his own feet. I practically stumbled into him. Looking at the woman standing next to him, I could understand why. She was a mantrap, for sure. Exotic and sensual, sex oozed from every fiber of her being. Even the way she flicked her finger across her shoulder made
me
want to succumb to her every desire. Heat stirred an unsatisfied hunger below my belt and I shifted uncomfortably. It wasn’t right. She wasn’t right. Like the rest of this place.

I took a step back and held Matt’s arm tight
. The woman’s eyes shone bright on mine. Yellow eyes, cold and calculating like a serpent’s. As much as she made me want her, I also hated her. Hated her with every ounce of moral fiber flowing within me. Hated her for making me desire her and fear her all at once. But mostly for making me want her.
 

A snake, dark as the darkest night, slithered around her midsection. Its long body wound around her torso and up to her shoulders, wrapping until its beady red eyes rested in the nape of her neck, the flicker of its tongue in constant motion. Had to be some kind of crazy trick of the eye—the snake appeared to be slipping straight out of her belly button. I shook my head. A gargantuan serpent, built to crush large dogs or small horses, and the ease in which the woman caressed the reptile was a show of power.
 

Matt moved closer, his eyes fixed on her. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

Her lips widened, curving up to the starry night, showing a fine set of pearly, sharp choppers. “Eli, honey. You were talking about Big Eli.”

Matt said nothing. Drool would have dripped from his lip if he were any less civil. Completely captivated by the flashes of red she twirled teasingly in her hand, he stared at the glossy apple as if he hadn’t eaten in days. She held it just above her breast. I pulled on his arm, yet he didn’t budge. My frustration ratcheted up several notches.
 

It was the apple. The damn red apple. Like Eve tempted Adam, so was this serpent woman attempting to lure Matt. I didn’t like it. Pushing between them, I snatched away the wretched apple and tossed it out into the crowd of the darkened midway.
 

With a hiss and a rattle of its tail, the snake snapped at me. I tripped backwards into Matt’s arms, avoiding the strike.
 

The woman before us, covered in glimmering snake scales in all the right places, snickered and praised her slithering beast with long, slow strokes. “Now Nahash, that wasn’t nice. That’s not how we treat our guests.” Her gaze turned on me, and an undistinguishable look glinted across her features. “Any guest at all.” Her hand lifted to her lips, a new apple caged between her fingers, and she took a bite, then offered it to Matt.
 

Yanking with all my strength, I attempted to pull him back to me, away from her. “Come on, let’s go!”
 

Matt’s eyes were vacant. His arm swung across my chest, knocking me away. I tumbled sideways and slammed into a body in the crowd. “So sorry,” I stammered, picking myself up, before stumbling again.
 

The man I’d fallen into reached out to steady me, but I pulled away. His thick, dark cloak and hood frightened me. Even with all the shadows the hood cast upon his features, I could tell his face was covered in skeletal paint, partially worn or rubbed away, and that made it all the more disturbing. His mere presence sent an unequivocal chill up my spine.
 

He grabbed my wrist and his touch was neither warm nor cold. It was almost nonexistent. “I didn’t mean to scare you. You bumped into me. Remember?” He lifted two fingers to his left temple and closed his eyes. “Besides, something tells me you’re in need of a fortune.”

I yanked my hand away. That was the lamest sales pitch I had ever heard. I wouldn’t get my fortune read by a skeleton-painted come-on artist. “Later!!” I spit out, then spun around and hightailed it toward Matt to save him from the lady-snake-bitch.
 

“Was it the cloak? It’s too much for you, isn’t it?” The painted fortuneteller appeared at my side, swinging the cloak off his shoulders and over his arm. Now he was a skeleton boy in mere jeans and a much-loved hoodie. Strange.

I glanced at him, then to Matt and the serpent woman. I didn’t remember them being so far away. Seemed almost impossible. Had he kept moving without me? I spoke to the pursuer at my side. “It isn’t the cloak. It’s you. This place. It’s everything. I just want to get out and go back home.”

“I understand.”
 

Everything suddenly became immensely calm. The sounds of the rides softened, the screams subsided, and the sound of my beating heart filled my ears, soothing me, slowing my breath. The image of a fedora floated across my thoughts. The fortuneteller’s finger slid down the side of my face, or had it been there already? I couldn’t remember. I flinched. Realized my eyes were closed. When had I allowed that to happen? Was I losing time?
 

“I’ll do my best,” he said in a soft whisper. “Understand?”

Um, no. I really didn’t.
 

Slow, deliberate steps backed me away. Locked legs kept me from moving quick, kept me from matching my desire. Though the fortuneteller made no attempt to stop me. Instead, he whipped around and darted for Matt. I had to warn him. Blood boiled, straining up through my body, exploding in a livid screech. Only Matt and reptile woman turned and stared in my direction. The crowd around bounced off me and kept moving, ignoring me like my action was an everyday occurrence. Maybe it was. People screaming and yelling at a carnival, probably happened all the time.
 

My legs pumped faster, closing the distance between us. Even as I saw Matt’s eyes widen, his lips part, I knew. Knew I wasn’t going to make it.
 

Skeleton man was already there.

My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach, my arms went limp, like lead weights, and my entire body dragged the next two steps. I heard the fortuneteller’s words upon my approach; they echoed through my head like a sick, twisted joke.
 

“You look like a man in need of a fortune.”

Matt turned to the black and white painted man, a clouded look in his eyes. Tarot cards flashed from the man’s hands quick as lightning. Colors zipping by so fast no pictures were decipherable. Not until one flipped from the deck into Matt’s face, then slipped down the front of him.
 

The guy leaned forward and swiped at the card. “Sorry. Seems to be stuck. I’ll get it back from you later.”

Matt stared at the foreign object stuck to the front of his shirt. Every attempt to pull or pluck the thing free resulted in a horrible fail.

Finally at his side, I grabbed at the would-be-fortune, but it wouldn’t budge. It was as if it had been Super Glued. “What are you doing?” I demanded of the stranger.
 

“Just taking care of business.” He winked and spun toward the snake vixen, turning his back on us. In a show of fanfare, he flared his cloak out and wrapped it around the strategically scaled woman. “Do behave, Viola. You see what you’re doing to the poor boy?” He motioned to Matt with a tilt of his head.

“Oh Sebastian, you can be such a kill-joy. I was only having a spot of fun.” She stroked her pet and playfully bit at the air between them. The snake poked its head out from beneath the cloak.
 

“I’m all too familiar with the type of fun you and Nahash like to have.”

Matt grabbed me, drowning the conversation between the strangers into the chatter of the crowd. “What just happened?” he asked, pulling me off to the side, away from the moving traffic along the midway. We nestled against the corner of an obnoxious game. I stood frozen, watching as children tossed small beanbags of various colors at a row of hideous, fake clowns. The idea
―
shove a “pie” in a clown’s mouth.
 

More goddamn clowns.
 

I shivered uncontrollably and tried to melt into Matt’s chest. My body thawed with his embrace. The idea that I might have lost him gripped me, froze me, and I realized it didn’t matter what disaster was befalling my parents
―
I loved Matt and I wasn’t going to throw that away over fear.
 

“Are you alright?” Ever so slightly, his finger moved along the side of my face, brushing the hair from my cheek. “Did I do something stupid?” He paused, and I could feel the tension along his back tighten, then relax, then tighten again. I knew he was tossing thoughts, maybe even memories around, trying to make sense of it all. I sure was.
 

“You ogled the half-naked snake whisperer, but I forgive you.” I mumbled the words, sinking into his shirt. “I don’t think you were in complete control. Maybe she’s a Matt whisperer, too.” I stepped back, wiped my eye, and met absolute horror. I’d gotten tears and slobber, and possibly snot, on his white shirt. His white-with-red-blotchy-stains shirt.
 

“Jesus, Sara. Really?” He cranked his neck and straightened his shoulders. A posture that hinted to the strong, confident guy who’d nabbed my heart the first day we’d met. But the look he now wore, the one that had him glancing down and dragging a not-so-smooth hand through his hair,
that
told me more than he didn’t say. He was feeling it too
―
uneasy. He stood for some time, taking a step, pausing, making motion to go, then not. I twisted my fingers, wringing my hands together, fighting off the anxious beat drumming through my blood.