Returns

Back in black, I hit the sack,
I've been too long, I'm glad to be back
Yes I'm let loose from the noose,
That's kept me hangin' about
-- Back in Black, AC/DC

     Dav knelt in the toothpick rubble of his booth, sifting through the wreckage, salvaging what he could. A roll of Rainbow Brite stickers. First edition manga in plastic sleeves. A signed copy of Jesus Christ: Vampire Hunter.
     As he worked, a shadow fell over him. He glanced up, eyebrows coming down as he prepared to snap at whomever was interrupting him at his work. The snippy remark died on his tongue, eyes widening. A woman stood over him, just at the border of the Carnival and the parking lot, tall and strong, flowing black skirt, red tank-top, bare arms carved in muscle and scars. Her face was leaner than Dav remembered, lines at the eyes and around the mouth that hadn't been there before, and her long mane of black hair was shot through with white. The eye patch was new, too, but it was still Mary, grinning her wolfish grin around the butt of a cigar. She was also holding a woman, limp, unconscious, over her shoulder.
     “Mary? Do mine eyes deceive?” Dav asked softly.
     “Hardly. How you been, Dav?” She dropped the woman on the ground, drawing the cigar from her mouth and blowing a smoke ring. “I was in the area, and found this. I think it belongs to you guys.”
     Dav glanced down, recognized Lust, considerably worse for wear. She wore the face of a beauty queen and the body of a porn star, tarted up in a short red dress and heels that would break a mortal woman's ankles. Her dress was torn and stained dark, chest scratched and livid, nails broken, as though she'd been clawing at herself, and her veins were gray under her fair skin, a network tracery. He looked back up, past Mary, to the man behind her. He was tall, lean, long silvery dark hair pulled back, t-shirt and jeans, and he had BB Wolfe firmly by the arm.
     BB's face was marred by four long red scars, and he was grinning, as though he were having a great time.
     Mary followed Dav's gaze back towards the Carny. She heaved a sigh. “You want to let us in? If I have to listen to this asshole for five more seconds, I swear, I'm feeding him to the puppies.”

* * *

     “Hey. Alice.”
     Alice stopped, flicked ashes, more resigned than wary. She turned, finding no one. She glanced around, brows furrowing in confusion.
     “Hey.”
     The voice was reedy, drawling. Alice spun slowly, looking for the owner. There were people all around, but no one looking at her or paying her any mind.
     “Alice.”
     She spotted him, sitting on a bench in the gray shadow of a tent offering vintage pictures in Old West costumes. He was young, twenties, maybe, and thin, emaciated. His hair was the indeterminate color of grease, long, lank curls hanging in his face. His skin was pasty white, shined with a sheen of sweat, and stretched taught over his skeleton frame. His clothes hung on him, shirt like a tent, cargo pants drifting around legs like pencils. His eyes were a dull, washed-out gray.
     He was staring at Alice. After a long moment, he managed to wave her over. It looked like it took an unfathomable amount of effort to complete the gesture.
     Alice stiffened, and now a chill of wariness chased down her spine. It was one of them. She could see it in him. Well, that's what I was looking for, she thought. She approached, eying the thing. He looked pitiful, starved. She flicked her cigarette away and tucked her hands into her pockets, feeling the sharp bones of her hips against her hands. She wasn't as thin as he, but she wasn't far behind, either. Starvation was Alice's choice, though. Made the Shadow easier to control. She wondered what his excuse was. Perhaps he was out of favor with his master?
     “What?” Her tone was terse as she stared down at him, nose wrinkling as his body odor stink wafted up to her. It smelled like he hadn't seen the inside of a shower stall in years.
     “Sit down, man.” He glanced at the spot next to him, back up to Alice.
     “Nah.” She didn't want to get any closer to that stink than she had to.
     “You gotta be tired by now. Sit. I ain't after you.”
     She raised her eyebrows, doubtful. She debated sitting down. She was tired. It had been a long night that wasn't showing any signs of ending any time soon. She examined the tiredness. Was it hers? Something he was doing? She'd certainly run around enough tonight to come by it honest.
     “Sloth.”
     “That's me.” His reedy voice was wan, lifeless, the voice of a stoner completely blasted out of his mind.
     Alice was fascinated despite her better judgment. These creatures of Wolfe's, they were like looking at memories she didn't know she'd had. They were like ghosts, come back to haunt her, ringing bells that echoed through the hollow halls of her mind. And they suffered so, in their forms. She remembered Gluttony's heaving, gusting breath, pained, lumbering walk. This kid here, too.
     “Are you actually too damn lazy to hunt?” She asked, quirking an eyebrow up. She'd met plenty of hunters in her time, starved predators, who wouldn't eat for various reasons. Whining vampires who wouldn't drink because they thought humans were goddamn puppies or something, subsisting on rats and whatever other vermin came their way. A frigid succubus, once. That must be a special kind of hell, she mused. It had never crossed Alice's mind to feel bad about feeding the Shadow. It was just something that had to be done. And, truth be told, it was fun.
     “Lotta effort, hunting.” Sloth finally replied. “Usually they come to me.” He managed a slow smile. It wasn't a very friendly smile. His teeth were black, rotting.
     Alice considered stepping back. How far back would she need to get, to be out of his range? Under the right circumstances, she could feed from yards away. She preferred to be up close and personal, but that wasn't necessary.
     Of course, this thing wasn't like her, was he? He had a soul, for one thing, packed down tight until it was nothing more than a compacted ball of energy swirled through with blackness. He was a human being, remade into this shape. Did he eat anything but the bits of soul his master gave him? Did he use the bathroom? Sleep? Maybe get laid or something? Anything? And, he had no Shadow of his own. The need in him was put there by his master.
     For a split second, Alice remembered it. She remembered the emptiness, the lack of will, the echoing void that was filled only when she was let to use a master's hunger. Then the sensation was gone.
     She shivered.
     “What was it like?” He asked. “When you became?”
     She almost asked, became what?, and realized what he meant before the words got out of her mouth. What had it been like when she'd got the Shadow?
     “I don't know.” Alice said, staring at him. “I don't remember it.”
     “How do you not remember something like that?”
     Alice shrugged. “I guess having your soul eaten is bad for the memory.”
     “So I won't remember any of this shit?”
     Was there something hopeful in his tone? Alice was pretty sure there was. She wondered what these poor bastards had done to be given to Wolfe, to be remade like this. She wondered if they remembered what they used to be. Was this a punishment, or had Wolfe simply taken them? Had this Doctor Celestine given his own people to be made into these creatures, or were they built out of customers?
     “Couldn't tell you.” Alice said, tone clipped off tight, and in between heart beats, she remembered screaming, screaming and holding on tight to a dead woman, green eyes just like her own only sightless, empty, staring back at her. She remembered rough hands on her arms, and she remembered how the screams had felt in her throat, stretching, aching. She remembered being torn away from the woman.
     “Sit for a minute.” He whispered. “Sit and tell me.”
     Alice heard the screaming in the back of her mind, and felt very tired. She sat.

* * *

     Dav blinked, mind spinning. Had he heard that right? Was he seeing this right? Could this actually be Mary, returned? But the Carnies never returned, not in all his time manning the gates had Dav ever seen a Carnie return.
     “Forgive me – did I hear aright? Puppies?”
     Mary flicked ashes from the cigar, a little smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, you heard it right. Heard you in the area. Thought I'd come by and visit the old home place, bring the kids by to meet everyone. I found him getting into trouble along the way.” She hooked her thumb back at BB.
     Dav struggled to wrap his head around the idea of Bloody Mary, Mistress of the Freak Show, with a litter of puppies. Not even a couple of kids and a husband, which would have been difficult enough, but a litter of puppies, and a – a mate? He glanced at the man behind Mary, who had the same animal grace as Mary, the same feral yellow eyes. He was definitely not Dante, the artist, and hadn't Mary and Dante been a bit of an item?
     “But – what of Dante?” He finally asked, unable to contain his curiosity.
     “Who?” Mary's brows furrowed in a frown. “Oh, him. Whatever happened to him, anyways?”
     “Sooth, I thought he departed with you, Mary.”
     “Jeez, no. He left before me. After the Big Top show, and Mr. James took the creativity back.” Her eyes lit up, smile returning. “How is James, by the way? He still around? He must be. You remember him, Fen, I told you about him? He was the one with the silver dust.” She said this last over her shoulder to the man, and his eyes widened, impressed. “And Aimee? How did Aimee turn out?”
     “Aimee – Masque, she does well, and the House of Wax serves the Carnival fairly.” Dav managed, glancing between Mary and her gentleman friend. If that was the right term to apply.
     “Good, good. I always knew the gal had potential.” She glanced towards the gates, which stood on their own, unsupported by poles or fences. “Say, Dav, you mind?”
     Dav followed her glance to the gates, face falling. “I cannot, for they've been ordered closed.”
     “Um, Dav?” Mary pointed back at BB with her cigar. “Because I'm certainly not standing here all night with this fucker.”
     “What did I ever do to you, Mary?” BB said, mock plaintive. “I mean, besides chase you out of your own attraction with your tail between your legs?” He grinned, sly, as the hit went home and Mary rumbled a growl from deep in her chest.
     She glared, heated, then turned back to Dav. “You have to at least let him back in. If you leave him out here with me, I'm killing him. And Doc will be pissy about that.” She bit her cigar between her sharp, white teeth, drawing in pungent smoke and getting a hold of her temper. “Besides, his whore here isn't doing very well.” She toed the unconscious Lust.
     “What has become of her?” Dav asked, eying the sickly-looking Sin.
     “Bit off more than she could chew, didn't agree with her.” She studied the gate. “I could just toss him over the top. I bet I could get at least twenty feet of air. He's little.” Her man laughed softly, behind them, and BB shot him an aggrieved look.
     “C'mon, Dav, let us in.” BB said, turning his sly grin back on Dav. “It'll be fun. Mary's puppy hunting. She's almost as a good a mother as she was at running the Freak Show. She lost one in there.”
     A frisson of tension ran all through Mary at his words, and she turned, slowly, pitching the cigar away into the darkness. She leaned over close to the Carnie and said, voice low and ominous, “Y'know, I know you can patch yourself back together almost as well as I can, but I'm really curious as to how much I can hurt you before you run out of the energy to do it with.”
     BB's grin hardened, eyes flashing. “It'll be awhile.”
     “I have a lot of time, and a lot of help.” Mary smiled, showing her teeth.
     “Mary, please. Let me speak with the Doctor, and see what may be done. Surely he'll allow you in.” Dav held his hands out, a helpless gesture to forestall the violence he felt building in the air.
     Mary turned from BB, her eye hot and angry. “It's your gate, Dav. Just open the fucking thing.”
     “You've really lost one of thine within?”
     “Yes.” Her jaw was clenched tight, and she snapped an irritated look back at her man. “We lost one while we were dealing with the asshole.”

* * *

     “Just relax.” Sloth said, staring out at the crowd. “No point rushing. Not much to get after, really. Tell me about it. What's it like?”
     “Not much to tell. What do you want to know?” There was a soft buzzing in the back of Alice's mind, like the lazy drone of flies on a hot day, something pestering her. She shouldn't just be sitting here. There had been something she was going to do.
     “Don't worry about it. What's it matter?”
     The crowd seemed to have slowed. She watched the people drift by. Her heart beat felt ponderous, dull.
     “Got to do the job.”
     “Who cares. Not your job.” He pointed out. “Not your territory. Doesn't go to feed you.”
     “I'm getting a paycheck for it.” Alice blinked. It seemed to take a really long time to get her eyes open again. The buzzing was getting more quiet.
     “Yeah, so. Lotta effort, though, old gods. And what's he gonna do, really. Somebody else will get him.” Sloth had a drawl to his speech, as though the words all ran together because enunciation was just too much work. It was like listening to someone speak in their sleep. “Plenty of badasses around here. Let them deal with it.”
     He had a point. She hadn't run across a person yet in this Carnival that didn't qualify as a major power in some way or another. That Stevens, or the Fae up at the gate. The lion tamer guy had been the least of what she'd seen, and even he was formidable. Or hell, Staceybug, for that matter. Alice knew what Owen, back home, was capable of, and Lady Staceybug, for all the damn foolishness of her name, could be no less frightening. With all the energies converging here, was Alice really needed? Probably not. She could just sit here. It wouldn't be any big deal.
     “Must be tough, keeping going all the time like that. Why do you bother?”
     Another good point. Alice kept herself relentlessly busy. There was always a job to take, work to do, money to be made. A project in her work shop, a commission from one of the magi back home, a sloppy hunter stalking her city to take down. And why? For what? Did it matter?
     Yes. It mattered because . . . She couldn't remember. Something. It mattered because . . .
     “But you don't really care.” Sloth's voice was a low drone, monotonous. Easy to listen to, the perfect voice for reading bedtime stories, guaranteed to knock a kid out before the third page.
     Hadn't it been more reedy before? Whinier?
     “Who cares.”
     Well, not Alice, that was certain. About half a damn was all she could manage most days. Well, and she couldn't be blamed for that, could she? It wasn't like she was a lot of use to Detroit, was she? Sure, they kept her around. They liked the idea of having her firepower available, but they didn't trust her. They used her occasionally, a pawn, handy cannon fodder. Even when she was being useful, they were dismissive of her. Disrespectful.
     Disrespectful. Right. Wait . . . didn't that have something to do with it? That didn't sound quite right.
     “Fear's really not the same thing as respect, you know.”
     He was right about that. Most of the preternatural community in Detroit was scared spitless of her, and with good reason. Having Alice around was kind of like having a terrorist with a dirty bomb around. Good, if you could keep them on your side. Lot of work went into keeping her on their side, though. Probably she wasn't worth it. Couldn't be counted on to be there in a pinch, not the same way the other magi could. Because . . .
     Wait, that's not right. Alice blinked again, and it went a little faster this time. There were plenty of times she'd put her ass on the line with the rest of the city, just because it had needed doing, and she was there to do it.
     “And what did it get you? Shiny medals? Even a thank-you?”
     Well, no, but that wasn't supposed to be the point, was it? You were just supposed to do that sort of thing, right?
     “Why?”
     Well, because . . .
     Because . . .
     “What else is there?” Alice asked, and her voice sounded dull, stupid, to her own ears. Otherwise there was nothing, just the mindless apathy, the relentless hunger. The boredom.
     Sloth glanced at her, and there was a trace of uneasiness in his gray eyes. “Feeding is boring?”
     “No . . .” Alice said, with hesitation. You couldn't call it that, by any definition, but if there was nothing but the existence between eating, the long dull spans pressing down on her --
     Pressing down on her, dull, mindless, peaceful, almost --
     “Peaceful, yeah, just like that.” Sloth relaxed a hair, and Alice suddenly realized he'd been tensing as she --
     As she what? Wait, what? She tried to sit up, and felt heavy, lethargic, tired, so tired.
     “Easy, just rest.” His voice was a whisper, a soft brush of air.
     Rest. Right. She didn't rest much, didn't allow it, sleeping was hard, she didn't sleep much. Too much down time, that way, long empty stretches full of nothing but the blackness of sleep, and in that blackness, there was a deplorable lack of Alice.
     Yes. That was right. That was it. If there was nothing but the feeding, the apathy, the boredom, where was the Alice in all that? Where was she? All that was only Shadow. And if there was only Shadow, then what was left?
     Alice sat up, rubbing her face. “What's going on?”

* * *

     Dav's hands twisted around themselves, full of worry. First there was the Alice creature, and then BB getting out, and the fight with Stevens, and BB getting up to trouble, and Mary – Mary! Gone! Faced her trials and left the Carnival, and hence returned, and with BB in tow, no less – and all this spoke of entirely more trouble than was good for the Carnival. Dav was sure of that much. There had been wrong notes in the calliope all day, but here was Mary, already solving a problem by fetching BB back. Well, and that was Mary for you, always good for solving a problem or two. Granted, she had a tendency to solve problems via a liberal application of blunt force trauma, but you couldn't deny that the problem was damn well solved when she was done with it. Solved, and usually bleeding and mewling on the ground, but that was Mary's way. There was that time in Tulsa when she'd eaten the cop who was poking his nose into Carnival business. What? No body, no crime, she had said.
     That was Mary. And she was back. With friends. Maybe just what the Carnival needed. The Carnival had a way of fetching what was needed. Maybe Mary was back to deal with that . . . Alice. Yes. Who else was going to stand up to Black Alice? Celestine, of course, but the Doctor was . . . distracted, Stevens had said, and --
     OPEN THE GATES. GET THE PEOPLE OUT.
     Dav staggered, blood squirting out of his nose as the voice of Celestine ricocheted through his head like a large caliber bullet, loud, hard, angry.
     “Jesus, Dav! You okay?” Mary exclaimed, stepping forward and reaching as though she would catch him. She was stopped by the Carnival's borders.
     “Celestine is wroth.” Dav managed, holding his aching head, feeling the warm trickles of blood running over his lips as he spoke.
     “Shit, I guess so. What's going on?”
     “Mayhem and madness, milady.” Dav got his hands on the gates, watching blood drip into the dirt and sawdust as he dragged them open.
     “The usual shit, then.” Mary scooped Lust up and came in, her man behind her, marching BB along. “You can let him go.” He turned BB loose with a push, and BB staggered a step or two, nearly falling as Mary shoved Lust at him. He caught his balance, Lust's head lolling against his shoulder. She groaned and stirred, then fell silent again.
     “Tsk, so touchy, Mary.” BB grinned, catching a better grip on Lust. “That time of the month, is it?”
     Mary lunged a step, and then her man had her, his arm around her waist and pulling her back tight against him. “Easy, love.” He said in her ear, glaring at BB. “Not worth it.”
     “You sure?” Her voice was half snarl.
     “Pretty sure.” He glanced again at BB, face still alight with the gloating smile. “I might be wrong.”
     “Go, BB.” Dav said, stepping between the Carnie and the wolves. “See to your minion.”
     “See you around, Mary!” BB managed to wave as he walked away. “Good luck with the puppy!”
     “Why do you guys keep that asshole around?” Mary snapped, then relaxed against her alpha's grip.
     “He serves his purpose, else we would not.” Dav shrugged. “And you, Mary, why do you come hence? Is it only your . . . child?”
     “Yeah. I just have to find the little runt, then I'm out.” She glared after BB, then turned her gaze back on Dav, shaking the anger off.
     “You've no purpose with Black Alice?” He wiped the blood off his face, inspected his now-stained sleeve.
     “Alice? The redhead missing the fingers? What would I do with her? I sent her back here.”
     Dav looked up, startled. “You – what?”
     “I saw the search crew coming for her, and had the pack drag her off. I could smell the gold on her. The ticket? I figured she had a right to come in, if she had the ticket, and I didn't recognize the machine crew. You all get someone new?”
     “Mr. Weaver, yes. He was sent forth, to retrieve Ania and the painted woman, Tiffany. He was to collect Alice and her things, as well, to keep them from being . . . troublesome.”
     “She had a ticket, Dav. Thought you had to let her in, with the ticket. She gets her chance, same as everyone else.”
     “Such is the truth, Mary, were it not that the ticket was stolen.”
     Mary snorted. “Stolen? Please. You can't steal those damn things. If she got it, she was meant to have it. Or have you guys been fiddling with how things work since I've been gone?”

* * *

     Alice shoved herself up off the bench, shaking her head. “You little shit. Almost had me.” She staggered a step, pushing the heels of her palms into her eyes, rubbing the lethargy away. Jesus, and his work was so subtle, too, winnowing his way in where he was least expected. She'd been ready for Gluttony, not worried in the least about the ravenous behemoth . . . but some lazy little stoner had almost got her. It was embarrassing.
     Sloth rolled his eyes to look at her, almost working up to a glare, and then made a soft, choked sound. His hands trembled, twitched, then spasmed, clutching at his chest.
     Alice fell back another step, eyes widening. Now what? She blinked and in that time, the veins stood out on his arms, his face, and he gagged, clawing at his skin. The veins darkened silvery gray, a road map over his pale skin, through his eyes.
     “What the hell? Is this some kind of punishment for a failed hunt? Tell him it's not your fault, man. I mean, I admit, I don't give much of a shit about anything, but I'm not lazy. You didn't really think you could take me, did you?”
     Sloth caught his breath, hands dropping, eyes blinking rapidly. He planted his hands on the bench, shoving himself to his feet. “Aw, not really, Alice.” He said, and his voice had taken on a grating quality. He ran his hands over his face, pushing his greasy hair back. “Just softening you up for the old one-two punch.”
     “What?” Hands descended on her shoulders. Steel hands. She squeaked, twisting to look up. Towering over her was an extremely smug-looking man made entirely of steel. His skin had a brushed pattern, and all over it, a fine tracery had risen. Just like Sloth's.
     “I don't need to introduce myself, of course. You know me. Everyone does.” The steel man smiled, oozing smug confidence all over Alice. “I'm sure you're thinking right now that you can beat me, but let me assure you, you cannot. No one ever does.”
     Skeletal hands latched onto her jacket, and Alice turned her head back, finding Sloth with a death grip on her lapels and a maniacal, leering grin.
     “Yeah,” he said, and his breath stank of weed and rotten teeth, “you're a little apathetic, don't really give a lot of shit. But your real problem is the attitude, Alice. You just think you're fucking better than everyone, don't you?”
     “Well, yeah.” Alice said, fighting off the waves of apathy the young man's touch invoked. She brought the heel of her palm up between his arms, driving it into his nose. “That's because I am.” Sloth's head snapped back, nose making a sick crunch, and Alice jerked away from the steel man and lunged after him.

* * *

     The Freak Show had an unpleasantly empty feel to it, quiet and ominous. BB put Lust down on the floor, eying the darkened canvas halls. The main stage was silent, abandoned. To the left a long hall, walls flexing gently with the light breeze, led down to the Sins. It, too, felt empty. Uneasy, BB moved down the hall, passing his office door, coming to the hub. Seven swaying halls led down to the Sins' various dens, and he couldn't hear a sound.
     They were gone.
     He turned in the center room, running his hands through his hair, staring into the shadows. It wasn't unusual for one or two of them to be gone. Gluttony would occasionally be called away to attend to disposal issues, and Pride had an irritating habit of wandering off wherever he damn well pleased. Envy had been dispatched to follow the most intriguing Alice. Lust was indisposed. But Wrath? Greed? And Sloth. Sloth never moved. He usually had to be carried wherever he needed to go.
     The disquieting part was that BB couldn't tell where they had gone. He always knew where the Sins had gone. It was like he suddenly couldn't feel his own hands. He'd told the rest of them to stay here, dammit. Of course, Pride wouldn't listen. Pride never listened, the useless bastard. But the rest were pretty good at following orders.
     Where had they gone?
     Worse, what were they doing?
     BB ground his teeth, feeling his nerves dancing, stomach sinking. This could be very bad, yes it could. Okay, okay, he could talk his way out of leaving without permission. After all, the rock had been his, he was entitled to getting it back. Stevens would be a big stuffy prick about it, but he could be backed into a corner. In fact, that would probably be completely overshadowed by Mary's return. Everyone would be tickled to see the old bitch again, play with the little puppies, whatever, they'd probably forget all about BB's little indiscretion. That wasn't so bad.
     This, though, the Sins wandering off, that wasn't going to be overlooked. Keeping them under control had been a very important part of the terms when Celestine had given him permission to have them. It was bad enough that no one trusted him, and who could blame them, all things considered, but they at least expected him to be able to keep his own toys under control.
     “Turn my back for one damn minute.” He muttered, mind racing, trying to think. All he'd wanted was just what was due to him, just a little extra, just a little more. Mr. James was so damn clever, scooping every little thing up for himself. He had his Game, and that bitch, Ania, and nobody brooked Mr. James lightly. Stevens was in charge, put there by Celestine himself, and nobody ever gave Stevens any garbage when he put his foot down. That clown was an unstoppable force, and Vincente was the immovable object. Ambrosia knew everything, and Staceybug was just goddamn scary. Even Brick and the Ticket Master, the least of the Carnies, never had to take any crap from anyone. Of course not. All the crap was reserved for poor old BB, who just shut his mouth and did his job and never bothered anyone. He deserved just a little more, for putting up with all this – this disrespect. So he took just a few minutes for himself, to gather the power he so richly deserved, and just look at the results.
     Mary shows up, kicked his ass. Lust, out cold, harmed in some fashion, and BB didn't even know where to start with that. And finally, he returned to his attraction, his, and not Mary's, dammit, and all his creatures had wandered off.
     What if they were out there feeding?
     BB broke out in a cold sweat. They couldn't be. He hadn't given them permission for that.
     Kind of like he hadn't been given permission to leave. Right. Shit.
     Something stirred in the hall back to the main stage. He turned. Lust was coming down the hall, pausing to lean against the tent poles, barefoot, head hanging, weaving. She was a shadow in the darkness, hair hanging raggedly in her face.
     “Lust?”
     She lifted her head. Her eyes gleamed in the darkness. Her perfect, Cupid's-bow mouth turned up in a pert smile. “Hey, Boss.” Her voice was warm, husky, sultry, her walk steadying as she moved forward, her hips picking up their usual hypnotizing sway.
     BB's nerves cranked up a notch for no particular reason. “Feeling better, doll?”
     “Oh, no.” She said, moving into the hub, her smiling widening, showing off her perfect white teeth. “I'm starving, Boss.”
     He fought the urge to step back. Something was really wrong, here. “We can find you something, doll, I'm sure.”
     “I'm sure we can.” She said, advancing, slow, languorous, hips twitching back and forth, breasts shifting under her dress as she moved. Her body was memorizing, her perfect smile promising things no man could stand against, and her eyes . . . her eyes --
     -- were stone cold insane.
     BB licked his lips, which had suddenly gone dry as desert sand. He could smell her. She smelled like a musky sweet perfume, the kind of scent that made a man trail stupidly around after pretty girls at the bar. But she couldn't do that to him.
     Right?
     “That's far enough, Lust.”
     She kept on walking. He couldn't look away.
     “I said, that's enough.”
     “Come on, Boss. You've always wanted to. And that's how a girl gets ahead in the world, isn't it? Gives the boss a ride?” She licked her lips, and BB watched her tongue, the slow movement out, over her upper lip, and couldn't help but think of other things her tongue could do. He knew, he knew she was doing this to him, and at the same time, was absolutely certain that she couldn't effect him this way, like she did to the marks. She could not. He was her master.
     And it didn't seem to be slowing her down at all. Nor was it slowing him down at all. He could feel himself responding to her presence, heart beating faster, body going tight and hot, mind conjuring images of the things she would do for him if he just let her a little closer, just let her touch him. She'd do anything. Everything.
     “Get back.” He hissed, falling back himself.
     “I'm so hungry.” She whispered, and her voice was musical, smooth as silk, and BB couldn't help but think what she might whisper in his ear, anything he wanted her to, anything at all. “I just want a little taste. Just a little taste, Boss.”
     “Shit.” His voice was strengthless, gaze caught by the sight of her, even mussed and disheveled, she was breath-taking. Her torn dress only made him think of ripping it the rest of the way off, tangled hair reminding him how much more tangled it would be when they were done, the white skin of her chest marred with scratches that made him think of how his own back might be scratched, raked by her nails. “Shit.”
     She lunged at him with a cat-like growl, and he couldn't move at all.

* * *

     Alice hit Sloth again, a hard, driving strike down into his face. She couldn't take two of them, both acting on her at the same time, she had to get one out of the fight as fast as she could. Oh, who was she kidding? Of course she could take them both. A couple of little pussy echoes of the real thing, hell, she could whip them both blind-folded, and just to prove it, she'd turn on the big one first --
     Alice shook her head, staggering, arming the sweat out of her eyes. Pride. That was the big one. Arrogance, over-confidence, vainglorious, she'd fallen victim to these faults before. She knew better, she'd had her ass handed to her more than enough times to teach her better.
     She hoped.
     Hope what? She didn't need hope, not against these two bitches. She turned on Pride, right into a hook to the jaw. She actually saw the blood fly as she fell, a perfect red arc that glistened in the Carnival lights. Alice hit the ground, sawdust puffing up around her. She sucked it in, coughing, choking, eyes stinging, and rolled, scrambling to her knees.
     A hand twined into her hair, jerking her back up to her feet. “You think think to challenge me? Me? I am indestructible, unstoppable, in perfect fighting trim. You, you smoke two packs a day. You are already winded, Alice! What can you hope to accomplish against me?”
     She dangled by the hair from his fist, reached up to snag his wrist. It felt like her scalp would come right off. Sloth snagged her around the waist, and she felt the strength run out of her in a rush. She groaned, scalp on fire, jaw one big throb of pain, mouth full of blood. She steeled herself, sucked up a mouthful of blood, and spat into Pride's pompous face. The gob splattered across his eyes, sizzling like grease in a hot pan. He let out a cry, releasing her, and she fell back on Sloth, taking the toothpick-sized kid down with her. She dropped an elbow as she landed, planting it firmly in his guts, and all the wind went out of him in a fetid rush that left Alice gagging.
     “Christ, kid! Brush once in a fucking while!” She shoved herself up, fetching him a kick to the ribs and spun on Pride again, who wiped his face and advanced on her, completely unharmed. Okay, that was a problem. The acidic blood was a potent spell, should have left him blind at least for the duration of the fight.
     Nah, it was no problem at all, what was she worried about? She had plenty of goods left, she'd hardly got started. This guy didn't know what he was getting himself into with her. She was Black Alice, feared by more frightening men than him, and --
     “Dammit!” She exclaimed as his fist whistled by her face, lifting her hair with its passing. “I am tired!” She yelled, dancing back to avoid another blow, desperate to remind herself. “Tired! Weak from blood loss! Lost my goddamn gear! I got nothing!”
     She didn't need anything. She had everything under control.
     “Shi --” Her exclamation was cut off by another slap, this one across the side of her head. For a second she stood there, and everything was brilliant and lucid as she felt Pride sink his hooks in, felt the drain of his feeding. For a just a second, everything was cool, clear, obvious, and it was going to be all right. Then her knees went out from under her and she hit the ground in a rush of dark dizziness.

* * *

     It dawned on Dav all of the sudden, a quick burst, the thing that had been pestering at him, and his eyebrows went up, eyes widening as Mary turned to head into the Carnival.
     "Mary, you've not introduced your -- gentleman."
     Mary stopped, a hand to her head. "Oh, Jesus, you're right, I'm sorry. Damn, spend a few years out in the woods, and I forget all my manners. Dav, I'd like you to meet -- well, you might as well call him my husband, I guess." She turned to her alpha. "This is Dav, the ticket master. Dav, meet Fenris."
     Dav offered to shake hands, weakly. "Fenris. My . . . pleasure."
     The big alpha inspected the hand as if unsure what exactly was expected. "Right. Nice to meet you too."

---

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 United States License.