AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Now that he mentions it, there’s a buzzing sensation in my chest, like I drank too much alcohol and didn’t notice. The moment I focus on it is the moment it grows until it turns into an itch. I have to clench my fingers on my crutches to stop from scratching myself.
Nodding silently in understanding, I meet Diamond’s eyes. “You’re answering a call.”
He nods once and climbs into the car, clearly intending to leave me here without saying anything more.
“Can I come?” I ask, taking another hopping step forward. “I can help.”
“You’re on crutches, Queen,” Heart points out. “There isn’t much you can?—”
“Get in,” Diamond instructs. “Back seat.”
I do as I’m told, shuffling until I can get into the back seat with my crutches and relaxing against the backrest. He hands me a mask as I settle in, and I take it gingerly. He already had it in here. Had he known I would come looking?
“Put it on,” he says, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Don’t take it off until we tell you to.”
I glance down at the heart-shaped mask with a small red Q under the left eye. Both eyes are crying black and red, leaving a trail of ink. The cheeks are big and round and dusted with blush, and the smirking lips are painted red. It’s perfect and seems to be a blend of all their masks.
I slide it on without question, liking the feel of the plastic on my face and the power that seems to settle over me as I wear it.
No one says a word as we start the car and leave the cirque behind. The farther away we get, the stronger the call becomes until I’m practically vibrating with it.
Heart pulls out a knife and begins twirling it through his fingers. He glances over at me and grins, eagerness in his eyes.
We follow the call of the cards, and they tell us where we need to go.
My body hums in excitement as we answer it together.
Chapter
Sixteen
It becomes apparent why no one knows where they are going or where the cirque will set up. Diamond doesn’t use maps or directions to find where he’s going, simply follows the call, the one vibrating within our chests. Cirque Obscurum decides where the cirque sets up and what town it will be in. If there’s a call in that town, she sends us there as well, which is what’s happening now.
Diamond simply drives, his eyes on the road. Every now and then, he takes a turn, left or right depending on that feeling. No one interrupts his concentration. We all sit quietly in the car and watch the scenery pass through the windshield.
The town of New Lockland isn’t large, but it isn’t small either. This town is big enough to sport sizable subdivisions around it in large, circular patterns, but it’s not the bustling metropolis of a city. It’s within those subdivisions that we find ourselves, a nice middle-class neighborhood that feels too much like the place I came from. I know better than most that the perfectly manicured lawns and white picket fences can hide monstrosities. Just because the house is painted white doesn’t mean whoever lives there is innocent.
Somehow, I’m not surprised when we pull up to a well-maintained white house. The shutters are open on the windows, more decorative than useful. The small porch has the same white metal posts as the rest of the street, each house a cookie-cutter copy in a different color. Some of them are pale green, some pastel blue, but this is the only white one. Like our masks, it hides something inside. It mocks us as we all climb from the Dodge.
“Should I wait out here?” I whisper, staring up at the dark windows. There’s no movement inside, not at this late hour. The sky is clear, so the moonlight washes everything with a blue tint, showing that not even the wind stirs the flowering bushes before us.
I realize I probably shouldn’t be here, not while I’m still on crutches. I don’t know exactly what all this entails or if every call is as traumatic as mine. Perhaps we’re going to find this person and bring them back without any trouble. No one has truly explained how this all works. I only know how my calling went and I barely understand that.
Diamond turns and looks me up and down, as if reminding himself that I’m still on crutches. I’m a liability. I know that, but it still hurts when he nods.
“For now. We’ll come get you when we’re ready.”
I lean back against the car and watch as they forgo the front door in favor of the back gate. They move quietly, so as not to attract attention from the neighbors, but I’m not sure if they need to. This neighborhood feels as dead as it looks. Though nosy neighbors are always a thing in the suburbs, this place is more likely to ignore atrocities than look too closely at them.
As if the thought causes it, the call in my chest grows stronger, and I double over beneath the weight of it, gasping for breath. Fuck, it wasn’t this bad at first. My crutches are the only things keeping me upright, that and the car I lean against. It ebbs away long enough for me to catch my breath before I straighten and begin following the path the others took. Whatever the call is, it wants me with them. It wants me to see, and I am helpless to ignore it.
The grass is so perfectly manicured, I don’t even trip over it as I hobble through the open gate. The backyard is empty, no toys to reveal a child might live here or furniture to indicate anyone uses it at all. It’s just as perfect as the front yard, and just as much of a mask. If your home looks perfect, no one questions what’s inside. No one asks you about your nightmares.
The back door is sliding glass, and it gives me the perfect view of the inside. I hop onto the cobblestone patio, coming closer when I see movement inside. There’s a lamp on, the small light source casting a yellow haze over everything near it. There’s a couch and a book lying atop the table beside the lamp. It looks like a crime novel, one of those mystery, solve the puzzle books. The sliding glass door is open, stale air coming from inside. When my chest aches with the call, I step over the threshold, being careful not to make any sound.
I don’t see any signs of the guys, but a few steps into the house, I hear a shuffle and a grunt of pain. I follow the sound to an open door at the top of the stairs—a basement. This house has a basement. I hadn’t even realized. There weren’t any openings outside to indicate there might be one.
The lights are on at the bottom of the stairs that lead to it, so with my newfound strength, I begin to descend them. Another grunt of pain sounds, followed by some thumping. I move slowly, deliberately, as I get closer to the landing. I don’t look until I’m there. I refuse to. I’d rather be faced with the whole image than only a part of it, but when I reach the landing and turn, I wish I hadn’t come down the stairs at all.
