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When I wake up again, Spade is gone. Instead, I find Club waiting for me outside, his arms crossed as he silently stares at the main tent.
“Hilda told me to tell you she still doesn’t know which cards they were since none of hers are missing,” he says in lieu of hello. “She just said to be careful.”
I run my hand through my hair and wince. “Great. An ominous threat hanging over my head. Just what I need.”
Club glances at me. “I can distract you,” he offers, “if you’d like.”
I hesitate. I still have a few more weeks on crutches, so I’m incapable of doing everything. Whatever Club wants to distract me with, I’m sure he’ll take that into account.
“I could use a distraction,” I admit. Both from Hilda’s strange warning and the thoughts of Heart and Diamond plaguing my mind.
“I’ve been practicing a new act.” He nods. “You can help me.”
I raise my brows. “What? You’re going to swallow something bigger than a sword? An umbrella?”
He laughs and gestures for me to follow him to the big top. “I deal in all blades, Queen. Not just sword swallowing.”
Oh. I didn’t realize that, even though I probably should have. He carved through the fruit and vegetables and wielded the sword as if he knew what he was doing. Of course he knows his way around more than that.
Various performers practice inside the main tent. Overhead, some of the trapeze artists and acrobats rehearse with a net beneath them.
“I thought Heart doesn’t like nets,” I comment, watching as one of the acrobats slips and falls.
“He doesn’t,” Club replies. “The net is for the others to use while practicing new stunts. Heart goes without, but he’s a different animal. The others prefer to practice new moves with a net.”
That makes sense. None of them are at the same level of crazy as Heart.
“So what’s the trick?” I ask, but I didn’t need to. In front of us is a large circle. There are little pegs on it and straps. It’s painted with a gold star in the center, and red and white rings go out to the edge. “Wait, what’s that for?”
“I asked Dr. Louie if you could participate and he said yes, as long as you don’t put your weight on your bad leg,” he explains, leading me over to the wheel. He takes my crutches and sets them off to the side before lifting me onto it. “Grab here and here,” he instructs, slipping my wrists through the leather straps. “Legs go here. Don’t put your weight on your booted one. The wheel should take some of the pressure off.”
As he works to strap me down, the acrobats finish their practice and exit the tent, leaving only Club and me for now. He’s standing incredibly close to me, his nimble fingers dancing along my skin as he checks the holds and fastens a leather strap around my waist.
“What exactly is this for?” I ask, my voice a little breathy because of his touch.
He glances up at me through his lashes, his eyes full of mischief. “Are you afraid of knives, Ember?”
I think about the question. I’ve been stabbed and cut. Knives have hurt me many times, but do I fear them? “No,” I answer. “Not that I’m aware of.”
He nods. “Good. Don’t jerk around on the wheel. Hold still.”
He moves to a table I didn’t notice before, one laden with knives. “Diamond says I can add this to my act next week,” he murmurs as he strokes the metal of the closest knife. “But I need to find someone willing to be on the wheel.”
He picks it up and flicks it between his fingers.
“So you found me,” I murmur.
“I could try to convince someone from the audience each night,” he says with a shrug. “But for practice, I need a willing target.” Without warning, he throws the knife at me. I flinch when it slams into the wood between my legs, the thump of it loud. “Relax,” he says. “I won’t hit you.”
As if to mock me, he throws another. This time it lands beside my neck, so close I swear I feel the wind. I gasp, but I don’t move, afraid that will be the reason he hits me. I understand now why he needs me to stay still.
He studies me, another knife in his fingers. “You’re so pretty when you flush,” he comments. “Bright like a star.” The next knife lands above my head.
Desire pools low in my belly as he lifts the next one and flips it into the air. Club is dangerous in his element. Here, in this circus tent, he feels like a viper, coiled to strike. When he throws another, I don’t flinch, trusting him, my eyes on his as he flings half the knives on the table.
“Not afraid at all,” he comments, coming closer. “But that’s not the whole act, little star.” He grabs the edge of the wheel and moves it gently. I gasp as it turns, clenching onto the holds tighter, even if the waist belt is tight enough to hold me. “The second part of the act is me throwing knives at a spinning wheel. Does this excite you?” He slowly turns the wheel until I’m upside down, and he holds me there. My face is level with his groin, at the perfect height for?—
“Yes,” I rasp. Holy fuck, this excites me. If Club unzipped his pants right now, I’d suck him deep. I’m desperate for him, aching for the desire that could make me feel alive and reborn. I don’t know what it is about this place or these men, but I can’t seem to control myself—no, I don’t want to control myself with them. When his hands slide along my leg, stroking down my thigh, I nearly whimper.
