Chapter Three

 

 

 

They decided against a shower for the time being, but the first practical problem was using the toilet. It wasn’t urinating that was the issue. Urinals, at their best, weren’t exactly private. Everyone had seen each other’s junk in the locker room. It was just peeing. But they couldn’t keep themselves from taking a crap forever, especially after the kind of food they’d eaten.

Lars found the RV radio and turned it on. There was an air freshener in the tiny toilet cubicle. The most embarrassing thing was that they couldn’t close the door. Somehow, it was all worse when a guy had to sit down to do his business while another guy was right there and could hear no matter how hard he tried not to.

The first thing that went through Seth’s mind during this ordeal was that this was going to be their life, having to experience each other taking a crap every day. The second was wondering—in something of a non sequitur, but really not, because he’d wondered it before—how the conjoined twins managed the same task. They couldn’t even partially close the door.

Still, the conjoined twins had done it their whole lives. It probably seemed normal for them.

Or, Seth thought with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, maybe it hadn’t been normal for them their whole lives.

Post-air-freshener, it was sobering to realize that, yes, it really could have been worse.

The second problem was the bed.

For some reason, soon after Kitty had left, Seth had been unable to stop thinking of her tits—and not just hers. In the silence of the RV, then with the underlying rhythm of the music and all it suggested, his thoughts drifted not through the morass of how they’d been cursed, but dwelled on Kitty’s body, the snake charmer’s body, the conjoined twins, the barmaid, the contortionist. They all flew through his mind like dreams while he was awake.

That was all relatively normal. He was a young, virile man with needs, and the skin exposure today had been exceptional indeed—exceptional enough to penetrate the horror of what had been done to them, apparently. Seth wasn’t too concerned about the thoughts themselves.

Until they didn’t take a shower, which was usually Seth’s number one place for a specific kind of privacy. And there was only one small bed. Barely big enough for them both to sleep in it with some space between them. Not anywhere near enough room for a guy to take care of his business without the other guy noticing, especially since they needed to maintain contact.

“We could sleep on each side of the sofa,” Seth suggested. It wouldn’t solve the semi-erect state of his cock, but there was something about sleeping upright that didn’t call one’s manhood into question the way sitting down on the toilet while another man could see you did.

“I can’t sleep like that,” Lars said. “Look, we bunch up the blankets or put pillows in between. If it were any other circumstance, I’d say we should alternate on the bed, but…” He shrugged and stared into space, not making eye contact.

It was a good idea, considering Lars’ slew of bad ideas that afternoon. The bed had a rail they could put up after they got up there so that they couldn’t roll off. Seth even grabbed one of their cups from that afternoon in case they needed to pee during the night, because leaving the bed was out of the question.

Lars took the side nearest the curtained window facing the front of the RV, while Seth was crammed against the railing once he put it up. He’d slept in less comfortable circumstances, but it felt like he and Lars were having a sleepover in one of the bunk beds from his youth. And the ceiling was right there above him, hardly enough room to maneuver. If he jerked upright, he’d hit his head before he even knew he was awake.

Neither Lars nor Seth needed the sheets to sleep. Even with the air conditioner blasting, Seth was warm enough, and he could feel Lars’ own warmth a few inches from him. He recalled all the times that women had exclaimed how he was like his own furnace. It had led to many a girl tucked up against his chest in the winter—another way Seth carried summer with him all the year. It meant now that they could stuff the top sheet between them like a barrier and save the pillows for their heads instead of sleeping on their arms.

This could work. Still, he had to toss a leg over the barrier in order to maintain contact, his foot to Lars’ calf. Lars met him halfway. He wasn’t making Seth struggle to accommodate the curse all by himself, which told Seth that Lars either didn’t blame him for making the wish or he’d decided that Seth had the same short end of the stick as he did, even if it was Seth’s fault.

Lars sighed and pulled his T-shirt over his head, turning his torso toward the close ceiling. He kept his shorts on. After some hesitation, Seth unbuttoned his own plaid shirt.

“What are people going to think when we don’t show up for practice tomorrow or the game?” Lars murmured. “When my mama doesn’t get my call next Friday, what holy hell is she going to rain down on the college and the police to try to find us? I mean, if we can’t get out on our own, she can probably do it single-handedly. Even Bell would be afraid of her. What about your sister?”

Seth stared up at the ceiling too. There wasn’t much there to see, but it was easier than looking Lars in the eyes during pillow talk.

“I don’t know,” Seth replied. “I don’t think people would believe us if we told them we left school and soccer to join the circus, especially not for whatever Bell ends up wanting us to do. But the truth is, I think that guy’s thought of this already. He’s done it to other people. He’s not worried about who’ll come looking for us and what they’ll find, or what happens if someone familiar sees us. He’s not worried about us at all.”

“You sure know how to knock the wind out of a guy’s sails, you know that? Sometimes a person doesn’t have to be so damn realistic all the time,” Lars said.

“Me, realistic?” Seth said, laughing a little. “When did I become the realistic one?”

“Around the time pessimism got more realistic,” Lars answered.

Seth covered his eyes with his arm, trying not to think about the oddities lit up in their tents, the sinuous sway of the snake charmer’s hips, the Bearded Lady’s barely contained breasts, the smell of nervous sweat and fair food, the exposed length of leg under a pink satin skirt with a light constellation of freckles to mark her as unique to her twin and Lars’ heat and the spice of his scent seeping across the barrier.

 

* * * *

 

When Seth opened his eyes, the whole RV was as dark as when they’d gone to bed. He thought he was still asleep at first, because the reeling, erotic tangle of his dreams blended seamlessly into the low moans, heavy breathing and velvet of skin on skin to which he awoke.

Because the dream had left him in such a state—his body stretched to the breaking point and his cock mercilessly hard, leaking pre-cum, seeking any brushed contact—he didn’t immediately pull away from where Lars had breached their barrier and wrapped his leg around Seth’s.

They’d been close before—such were the hazards of sports. Now they were closer than close, Lars’ face buried under Seth’s arm, his harsh breath tickling the sensitive skin there as he held onto Seth’s hip and rocked his erection against Seth’s thigh through their shorts. Lars’ leg tucked over Seth’s so that Seth had a corresponding thigh to rub against, meeting the thrust of Lars’ hips. They each drove forward, their need greater than their consciousness.

Seth only realized he was awake when Lars’ lips parted and pressed a tasting, delving kiss beneath the hair under his arm. He jolted awake as though shot through with electricity. Before he could control himself, he grasped the back of Lars’ head, pushing him closer and almost giving in to the pleasure that Lars’ questing mouth gave to him as Lars moved across his chest nearly to the nipple, small and tight and mere inches away now.

Part of him told him not to wake Lars up. He was clearly in the throes of a similar kind of dream from which Seth had been roused, and the moans that vibrated through Seth’s chest showed how much Lars was enjoying the way the dream juxtaposed with reality—as did the cock branding Seth’s thigh through their clothes, as hard as his own. When Seth had grabbed Lars’ head to push him closer, Lars’ breath had hitched and let loose in a strangled groan.

It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what he was doing. But God, what he was doing felt so fucking good that Seth didn’t want it to stop.

If Lars woke up right now and realized Seth wasn’t asleep, he would never forgive Seth for not stopping this before it got really humiliating. It was already going to be bad enough without Seth making it worse by deliberately frotting against Lars’ thigh or wrapping his hand around Lars’ cock under his shorts like Seth suddenly wanted to—to feel how it differed from his own, to squeeze its hardness, to bring Lars the same pleasure Lars was unintentionally giving him. Seth was still close enough to dreaming that it was hard to question what his body desired.

But if it were the other way around, he’d want Lars to snap him out of it. He wouldn’t want to come for a man even in his sleep. That was just too awful, the pinnacle of awful on top of a truly awful day. He didn’t want it to end that way for Lars, who’d had enough horror.

“Lars,” he whispered. He clenched his teeth and threw his head back as he pushed Lars away by the shoulders. “Lars, wake up.”

Lars angled his hips closer so that his cock stroked over the bulge of Seth’s. It took every ounce of fraying willpower against his need to come for Seth to shake Lars.

“You’re dreaming,” Seth said, in a louder voice. “Wake up.”

Lars jerked awake under Seth’s hands.

“Ah fuck,” Lars gasped. When the liquid glint of his eyes reflected the limited moonlight in the loft, Lars groaned then wrenched away, rolling onto his back and punching the ceiling. “Ah fuck.”

“It’s okay,” Seth said quickly. “I was dreaming. You were dreaming. It wasn’t anything. It was just… It wasn’t us. I just didn’t want you to…” Blame me, Seth finished in his head.

Because heaven help him, he was still hard. He wanted their hips together again. He wanted that hot mouth against his chest. He wanted the rough stubble on Lars’ scalp to rasp against his palm. And for one insane moment, he wanted to roll over to Lars’ side and kiss him. Without the excuse of dreams, he wanted to take that crude, sensuous mouth against his own and feel what it was like, whether it was anything like the dream he’d just had before he’d been brought back to reality.

“God, just shut up,” Lars said hoarsely. He turned his back on Seth, but their feet still connected their bodies into a loose V. When Seth shifted, reminding Lars by the movement of his foot that he was still there, Lars twitched. “Don’t move. Just…stop.”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” Seth said. “You didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to.”

“I know,” Lars said through gritted teeth. “Just go back to sleep. Forget about it. It didn’t happen.” He pressed his face into his pillow. “It didn’t happen,” he whispered.

Except it had. Seth’s cock knew that better than anything. In spite of the mortification of having reached this condition because of his best friend—his best male friend—and Lars’ reaction to realizing what they had been doing, his erection was still desperate where his shorts and briefs loosely confined him.

And worse than anything so far was the inexorable, unexplainable desire drawing him back to Lars—the soft skin over the strong muscle of his calf where they were still connected, the scent that now seemed to permeate the sheet underneath them and the places that Lars had touched him, the memory of his rasping groans… Seth’s skin was electrified, the little hairs standing up as though doing so would bring him closer to what his body wanted. Nothing Seth did could convince him that he didn’t want the person within arm’s reach.

Seth was overheated, horny, still half asleep, beyond confused, sick with guilt—and fuck, he needed to come so badly. But he couldn’t touch himself when Lars was right there, awake. Lars would hear him. Lars could put together cause and effect, and he’d probably beat Seth within an inch of his life just to make sure it didn’t happen again, because Lars would think that Seth was doing it because of him—and he’d be right. Seth didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, but he’d be right.

Which started up the whole roiling, lustful cycle all over again, where he needed to touch himself but couldn’t and where his cock seemed unfazed by shame when it would usually deflate at the very prospect of being confronted by another man.

Like that time that a girl’s male roommate had caught them dry humping on the sofa. He hadn’t lost a boner so fast since he’d stepped into the ocean to chill after eyeing some of the ladies in bikinis.

Right now, Seth didn’t know if he’d ever been this hard before. He ghosted his palm over the front of his shorts and bit his lip to stop from letting out a groan. He couldn’t do this, not with Lars right there.

But Lars would always be right there. God, he’d always be there. And he’d know. And he’d feel. And now Seth would wonder what it would have been like if he hadn’t stopped Lars, just as he’d remember the moments before, whether he wanted to or not.

Then Seth caught his breath, afraid that if Lars even heard him breathe, Lars would stop what he was doing out of the same shame curling like a serpent in Seth’s gut.

Lars must have needed it as much as Seth did, because that sound piercing the silence was a zipper. Lars was trying not to move too much, but he couldn’t keep himself from shifting a little. Seth could feel it through his foot on Lars’ leg.

Seth couldn’t hold his breath forever. Once he started, he tried desperately to keep his breathing even and slow as though he had fallen asleep. He was so far from asleep right now. He was wide awake and listening guiltily to the sound of his friend taking his cock in his hand, stroking it. Seth knew those sounds. He had heard the same things when he’d masturbated a thousand thousand times before.

It was different hearing another man doing it, and not in any porn video, but right there in front of him—no way to pretend it wasn’t a real guy or that he was doing it for a girl. The thick, wet, carnal sound of Lars’ hand pulling on his cock filled Seth’s ears, forcing his imagination to see it in his head, see Lars’ strong hand around that erect cock that Seth had felt against his thigh. He filled in the details he hadn’t seen, since the only glimpse of his friend’s junk had been in the bathroom and the shower, same as Lars—completely platonic, completely confident, as long as no one looked too long, and no one did.

Men in sports learned to shed modesty, but the process of interacting with naked or almost naked men on a regular basis as well as navigating some of the contact nature of the sport was still riddled with rules, like an elaborate dance. And this curse had already made them break some of those rules. There was no way to go back, but there was also no way to move forward with any kind of dignity, not without getting some distance—which was out of the question.

It was the curse. The damn curse was what had brought them together in the night. The curse was what made the corners of Seth’s eyes wet with tears of unmitigated need to touch and be touched, to just come, damn it. Was that really so much to ask? But not while Lars thought he was asleep. Not while Lars could hear. There wasn’t any protocol for when a bro could jerk off while his friend was less than a foot away. It wasn’t supposed to be done at all. But what choice did they have?

Lars couldn’t hold back anymore, his helpless moans mostly muffled by his pillow, but not enough.

Why? Why did Seth want to reach around him and be the one to finish it for Lars? His fingers twitched as though he couldn’t control himself anymore. Seth clenched his teeth. He tried fruitlessly to ignore the moment when Lars bucked into his hand, shaking the bed as he came.

Everything about this was all wrong. Lars was his best friend, had been his best friend since high school. They’d laughed in the showers after the game and talked over the partitions. They’d played pranks with other teammates in the locker room, hazed the freshmen, gone to strip clubs together. Seth had never looked at Lars the way he was looking at him now, and he was sure Lars hadn’t either. Right? He’d never wanted this before. Right? Right, God damn it?

Then why was there doubt, when he’d never doubted before? Or at least he hadn’t thought he had. But this doubt compounded doubt. It called everything into question.

Seth stayed frozen until Lars’ stiff body relaxed and his controlled breathing slowed. Since Seth had just fooled Lars into thinking that Seth was asleep, Seth didn’t move for a long time, afraid that Lars was doing the same thing to him. But eventually Seth couldn’t hold back anymore, whether Lars was aware of him or not.

Seth carefully turned around in the bed so they both faced away from each other. If Lars was still awake, Seth hoped he took that in the same way he had with Lars—the closest thing to privacy that they could get.

He opened his shorts and pushed down his briefs. His erection hadn’t flagged. He spat into his hand and flinched when he wrapped his palm around the shaft. The brush of his fingers against the ridge of the head on the upstroke was almost too much for the hypersensitive flesh.

Seth closed his eyes tight and did his best to move fast without jolting the mattress or his legs. He’d masturbated with another man in the room before—under the sheets in the dorm room—and he was sure his roommates had done it too. But never this near, and never touching another man, never with his scent and the memory of his skin.

He tried desperately to remember the snake charmer. Even the Bearded Lady would be good enough.

But he couldn’t. His thoughts returned to the shadow of Lars’ head under Seth’s arm, that hot mouth and tongue against him, the kisses over his chest, the fingers grasping his hip. And before he could control his thoughts, they drifted to the fantasy of Lars traveling down his abdomen with that mouth, working his way to the place where Seth squeezed himself, spilling his cum onto his palm and the sheets near the railing.

As he wiped his hand and his cock and made a mental note to secret up some tissues or something under his pillow, it occurred to him he hadn’t felt this guilty about masturbating since he’d been in middle school. The same cold shame reared its head, mature and unflinching, still there when he closed his eyes once more and tried to sleep, tried to tell himself that it was just the dream and a physical reaction. That was all it could be. It had to be.

Then why wasn’t it enough?

 

* * * *

 

The morning after was just as awkward as one would expect it to be, but in the light of day, doings in darkness while semi-drunk on sleep seemed less concrete. They didn’t meet each other’s eyes, but Seth and Lars also didn’t fight, didn’t ask the questions, didn’t make the accusations. The depth of Seth’s guilt and doubt were less fathomless. It was easier to make excuses when the sun was up.

They pulled the sheets off without a question and replaced them together, because they couldn’t separate their chores any more than they could separate themselves.

This time when Kitty brought them food, she just opened the door, set it on the stairs, looked up at them to make sure they were awake and alerted to her presence by the smell of sausage. Then she closed the door and left without saying anything.

They spent their morning in silence, broken only when they lifted their plates to see two books, Crime and Punishment and War and Peace.

Lars rolled his eyes. “Now we know he’s a cruel bastard,” he said. “Took away our phones. No tablet. Not even a black and white fucking TV. And now this English major shit.”

But what else were they going to do with their time? Because they still couldn’t get out. They certainly couldn’t look at or talk to each other. So Seth took Crime and Punishment and Lars took the other. Lars nodded off while he read, but Seth was surprised to find that he liked the book. It wasn’t something he’d have chosen if he’d wanted to read in the first place. Reading just didn’t usually fit in with the rest of his life. But with nothing else to distract him, the book engrossed him all through the morning. And judging from the books’ sizes, they would certainly last.

After Lars had nodded back awake, they raided the fridge for something to eat, because both their stomachs were talking and Kitty was nowhere in sight. Lars suggested they turn on the radio before he fell asleep again like an old man. They spent their afternoon sitting in the cab watching people walk by, because at least it was something to do. Lars tried banging on the window a few times, but no one looked over, so Seth figured that Bell had made the RV soundproof or they were too far away for anyone to hear them over the noise of the rest of the circus.

This time it was Seth’s turn to nod off before Kitty brought dinner.

“Wait,” Seth said before she could escape. “Lars?” He didn’t want to push Lars into apologizing if he wasn’t ready to, but he at least wanted to give Lars the opportunity.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Lars said, staring at his feet, where Seth’s left leaned against Lars’ right while they sat on the sofa. “I was pretty shaken, and I didn’t mean the things I called you.”

Kitty nodded. She didn’t forgive him outright, but she seemed to accept the apology.

“So, do you know when we’re going to get out of here, or did Bell just want a pair of athletes stuck in a motorhome like Prince Albert in a can for the novelty of it?” Seth asked.

That earned him a smile. “How do you even know about Prince Albert in a can?” Kitty replied. “You’re way too young for that.”

“I have grandparents.”

“Well, we’ll be traveling tomorrow, so you’ll have one of the golems driving you, probably before you wake up,” Kitty said.

“The whats?” Lars interrupted.

“The golems. They’re the worker ants of Arcanium, the crew. They usually wear black clothes and blank expressions,” Kitty said. “They manage to pass for alive, but don’t expect riveting conversation or anything more than cursory answers from them.”

“Wait, they’re not alive? They’re zombies?” Seth asked.

“Technically, yes. But they don’t eat brains, so we go with the less accurate ‘golem’ just to clear up that misconception,” Kitty said. “Don’t worry. They don’t smell and they’re not violent. They just…do things that Bell tells them to do.”

“That’s sick,” Lars said.

“They’re not alive. They can’t tell the difference,” Kitty said. “They lived their lives already. Bell…recycles.”

“I wouldn’t call using people’s bodies as mindless drones an approved way of going green,” Seth said.

“No, but it minimizes how many actual people and demons he needs to wish their way into Arcanium, whether accidentally or on purpose,” Kitty said. “Anyway, I think Bell’s been keeping you here so you don’t make too much of a fuss around the customers. But once we reach our new destination, I think he’ll let you loose to roam the grounds. Within the boundaries of the fence. I can’t emphasize enough that you shouldn’t go outside the fence.”

“Why?” Lars asked.

“From what I’ve heard, it’s like being doused in the worst itching powder known to man. Or like you’ve been staked to a fire ant pile. I’d advise against it.”

“From what you’ve heard?” Seth said.

“I’m voluntary. As long as I come back, I can leave,” Kitty said.

“And when do we get to leave?” Lars asked.

“Valorie’s an involuntary that chose to be a voluntary after eight years,” Kitty said. “Now she can leave. Look, I know it’s not ideal.”

“Not ideal?” Lars retorted.

“But if you’re nice to me, I can get you coffee or a cheeseburger.”

“This is ridic—”

Seth elbowed Lars.

“I know,” Kitty said. “And I was mostly kidding about sucking up to me to get my perks. I probably won’t help if you’re downright rude, but most people won’t help if you’re rude, so I figure I’m not asking a lot. Just trying to help lighten up a bad situation.”

“Yeah, I get it. Sorry.” Lars leaned his elbow into his thigh and rubbed his forehead. “I just wish I had five minutes alone with Bell with an AK-47 in my hands.”

“Don’t wish that in front of him. In fact, I’d swear off that word permanently if I were you. Anyway, he’d still win,” Kitty said. “Life will get easier when you accept that.”

“Which one’s Valorie?” Seth asked.

“The contortionist,” Kitty replied. “You’ll be seeing a lot of her. She’ll be working with you in rehearsals. She’s looking forward to giving over some of her performance time. Ever since Judy and Kennedy left, she’s been trapped doing dance, tumbling, high wire and trapeze all by her lonesome, and she’s wanted a break from the solo spotlight for a while.”

“What exactly are we going to be doing?” Seth asked.

Kitty shrugged. “I haven’t heard that much. It won’t be anything absolutely horrifying, if that’s what you’re wondering. You might actually enjoy all the things you’ll discover you’re able to do. That’s why Valorie decided to stay. You think she was born able to do her contortions? Or able to do as many circus things as she can at the drop of a hat?”

“You mean we’ll just know how to juggle or walk on stilts or something?” Seth asked.

In spite of everything, that did sound kind of cool. Who hadn’t seen a performance in the circus and wished they could do those things themselves? Seth had always secretly wanted to know how to ride a unicycle. But he didn’t think he could say that out loud without losing serious points with Lars.

Kitty nodded. “According to her, it’s addictive—being able to do those things as effortlessly as they look from the audience. I can’t speak to the high of it, although I can imagine. I never did have to do much work for what I do here. Although brushing my hair can be a bitch,” she added with a genuine smile.

“I wouldn’t know,” Lars said, smoothing his hand over his mostly shorn dome. An olive branch that Kitty accepted with a girlish tilt of her head.

“Are you an optimist or a pessimist?” she asked Lars.

“I used to be an optimist.”

“Then try this. Instead of viewing your service here with dread, look to some of the other involuntaries who’ve found a place. Valorie’s an invaluable example. And it’ll help having her as an ally instead of an adversary.” She crossed her arms. “Since she’s sleeping with the boss.”

“She’s what?” Lars almost choked on his own spit as he gave Kitty a double-take.

“That happens a lot here,” Kitty said.

“Sleeping with the boss?” Seth asked before he could stop himself. He determinedly didn’t look at Lars, but he was too horrified at the idea to be embarrassed. He remembered that moment when it had seemed Bell was going to kiss him. Men just didn’t look at other men like that if they weren’t interested.

Kitty laughed. There was no cruel edge to it—not that there was a single cruel edge to Kitty’s lush body, as far as Seth could tell—so he let out a sigh of relief.

“No, I mean people having sex with each other,” Kitty said. “Might as well get used to it now. You’ve met Lady Sasha and Lord Mikhail, right?”

They nodded.

“She’s a succubus and he’s an incubus. Most of the time, the circus hovers around a four on the lust scale with them spreading their demon pheromones all around their territory. But it sometimes spikes to ten when they get revved up—or when they’re feeding. Before you worry, they aren’t allowed to feed on cast. Lord Mikhail got his first taste of punishment after his brief obsession with the twins turned physical. I don’t think he’s going to push his luck again anytime soon,” Kitty said.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Lars said. He stared at her as though she had three boobs.

“Dead serious,” she replied. “Aside from Bell and the Ringmaster, the incubus and succubus are the only demons that directly influence Arcanium. It just helps knowing that if you’re randomly or intensely aroused for no good reason, you can probably blame it on the sex demons.”

“Who do you pair off with then?” Lars asked accusingly, but Seth didn’t think he was harping on her hair again. His tone was more deflective and defensive than insulting.

“None of your business,” Kitty said, prim in spite of her low neckline. “Just like what you end up doing to relieve your tension is none of mine. I’m only telling you about Valorie’s arrangement with Bell because they don’t hide it. Now, I should go. If you have any questions you don’t want to ask the others, I’m available in my tent or backstage. Everyone just drops by, so as long as the tent flap isn’t bound closed, you’re welcome any time, day or night. Just not for sex.”

“You too good for us?” This time it was Lars’ turn to sound offended at Kitty instead of the other way around. Seth thought Lars didn’t even realize that he’d said ‘us’, as though he was already thinking of Seth and Lars as a sexual unit… Because if one of them had sex, the other was inevitably going to be a participant, just like they couldn’t masturbate alone anymore.

Maybe Seth was overthinking it. Hard not to. Hard in general. He closed his eyes to tell himself to get a grip. Figuratively speaking.

“You’re too young for me,” Kitty replied without missing a beat.

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” Seth joked, although his mouth went dry when she directed her green eyes at him. She’d seemed so personable, so easy, so friendly, so helpful, but now that she’d brought up sex, he couldn’t help but once again imagine stripping away that dress, the rest of her body like the skin he could see, covered with soft-looking, brownish-red hair. And the way she’d look at him, just like that…

There was knowledge in those eyes, secrets in her smile, and Seth got the distinct impression that they weren’t just too young for her. It was more than that.

Seth wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“I like a little mystery in my life,” Kitty said. She looked as though she knew exactly what was going on inside his head, although she’d mentioned nothing about any psychic abilities. “Even in a freak show circus run by demons, it keeps things interesting.”

“So you’re telling us we’re not getting out of here until tomorrow, if that,” Lars said, finally accepting his dinner from her with a little more grace than before.

“I’m saying you’ll get out of here as soon as you’re not in a position to try to yell for help,” Kitty replied. “Whether you’re allowed to stay out when we start performing again depends on you.”

“What if we promise to be quiet?” Seth asked. “What I mean is that we haven’t even seen one of the performances. Don’t you think we have a right to see what we’re going to be a part of? I heard good things about it. What do you say? Put in a good word for us so we can get out of here and catch the show we missed last night?”

He played the winning smile card, his ace in the hole. It amused him that even Kitty, who had scared him a little a few moments ago, wasn’t immune to it either.

“I’ll see what Bell says,” Kitty replied, handing him his dinner as well. “I’ll bet you’ve used that smile countless times to con money from grandmothers.”

“Among other things,” Lars muttered around his fried cheese.

“I can’t promise anything. Bell will know what you intend if you’re planning some kind of grand escape,” Kitty said. “However, I’ve never been a fan of how he introduces new cast to Arcanium, and he knows it.”

“And you’re not scared of him?” Seth asked. “I mean, the way you talk about him, it’s like you try to put the fear of God himself in us. But you—”

“Voluntaries have more privileges. I’ve also been with him almost as long as Valorie has.”

“And when you say ‘with him’…” Lars said.

“I mean with Arcanium. I’ve been part of Arcanium for almost as long as Valorie, but I’ve been voluntary longer. I have my place here, and part of that place is taking care of cast transitions,” Kitty said, leaning against the wardrobe. “He respects my input because sometimes he doesn’t understand the human side of things, even though he can see into men’s minds—just like it’s difficult for us to comprehend jinn.”

“He can read our minds, but he doesn’t get us?” Lars asked.

“Some things get lost in translation,” Kitty said lightly. “I know him as well as a person can know him, as well as he lets anyone know him.”

“Then why aren’t you sleeping with him?” Lars asked. “’Cause it sure sounds like you are—or maybe you just want to.”

“I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you haven’t gotten by solely on your looks, that there’s a decent personality underneath the surliness and that it’s the stress bringing out the worst in you. It does that sometimes,” Kitty said. “It’s really none of your business who I sleep with, because it’s not going to be you.”

“There is a nice guy under there. Promise,” Seth added. “We’re just…here. And we didn’t sleep well.”

Lars jerked his foot away and managed only to get his elbow stuck against Seth’s in the process. Seth didn’t blink and tried to keep composed so he wouldn’t blush. Kitty didn’t have to know why they hadn’t slept well.

And if Lars was uncomfortable with Seth mentioning it, screw him. Seth was trying to get them out of the RV, but for some reason Lars had again decided that bothering Kitty was more important than challenging Bell.

The more Seth knew Kitty, the better he liked her. Flirting was easy when he liked a woman, even a woman who unequivocally stated she didn’t want to sleep with him. That was okay by him, although her smile was no slouch either when he stopped seeing the beard or the hair on her face. Funny how the hair seemed to disappear the more she talked.

“Can you talk to him?” Seth asked. “Please? We’re going stir-crazy.”

“And the Russians aren’t helping, I’m sure,” Kitty said. Seth nodded with a crooked grin. “Like I said, I’ll see what I can do. Performance will start in about fifteen minutes. If it’s to be, he’ll come get you. I have more to do before the performances than he does. I’ll see you again, gentlemen.”

She lifted her skirts and descended the stairs, leaving them alone.

Seth hit Lars’ arm.

“Ow! Geez.”

“Do I have to gag you or something? Yesterday you tried like hell to get out. Now I’m doing my best to do just that, and all you can do is dig our graves with both feet in your mouth?” Seth said. “And still antagonizing the one person who seems to care?”

“Care? She’s the warden, Seth. She gives us the rules and makes sure we keep in line,” Lars replied.

“Doesn’t mean she doesn’t care. She didn’t have to do any of it,” Seth shot back. “She didn’t have to warn us. She didn’t have to tell us about anything. She didn’t have to give us tips on how to survive here. All she needed to do was give us our food and leave. But she stayed, no matter how unwelcome you made her feel. It doesn’t matter how angry or fucking insecure you are, Lars, we need to get some people on our side. Unless you really do want us to be alone with each other.”

“That’s hitting below the belt.”

“No, below the belt was you saying she’d slept with the boss,” Seth said. “If we’re going to make it through this, you’re going to have to work with me instead of against me, remember?”

Lars set his plate on his lap and leaned back on the sofa, rubbing his forehead again. “Like we’re playing,” he finished for Seth. “And we play damn good.”

“I know you’re stressed out. We both are. We’ve been stressed at games before. Remember what I said last night.”

“Yeah, I remember what you said last night.”

“Hey, is that thing going to be a problem?” Seth snapped. “We were fucking dreaming, okay? It was the demons that did it, like Kitty said. It wasn’t us. We’ll use the pillows tonight. I thought we weren’t talking about it, but if you want to talk about it…”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Lars said.

“Good. I don’t want to talk about it either, but if you also want to be a girl and sulk and whine about it…”

“No,” Lars said. “Jesus, when did you get to be all drill sergeant?”

“When you lost it. As soon as you find your balls again, I’ll stop twisting them. I thought we’d decided to try it my way. The slow and steady, non-violent, be-nice-to-the-locals way. If that doesn’t work, I’ll let you try to break down the fences or something. Okay?” Seth said.

Lars sighed. “Sounds like a plan. I’d kill for a supreme pizza.”

“Now you have a reason to be nice to Kitty. She might get you one.”

“I don’t get her,” Lars said, bending back over his food and eating again. “Do you get her? Who joins a circus like this on purpose?”

“No, I don’t get her. But I like her anyway,” Seth said. He chewed on his fried cheese thoughtfully. “I think she knows how to play the game. Girl’s got her shit together. I’m begging you, please be nice to her. I’ll do anything. I’ll meditate with you if I have to.”

“Okay. Okay. I get it. Turning off the SOB and turning on the chocolate charm. Think if I flash a smile like yours, she’ll flash her tits?”

Seth elbowed him again, knocking him against the wall, and Lars laughed. It was a promising sound. If he had a sense of humor, Lars might still have access to his sense of self-preservation. That and teamwork were what they’d need to get a little freedom.

God, I hope this doesn’t take years. Two days and they were crawling up the walls. He didn’t think they’d last years.

Not with this new awareness. He could tell himself it was the demons all he wanted, and maybe it was. That didn’t change how last night had changed him.

He wondered whether Lars had the same awareness of him as he had for Lars, especially where they had to maintain contact. But he couldn’t ask. All he could do was pretend it had never happened. Cling to Kitty’s smile and the vision of her breasts and try not to recall the haze of the night before. He failed, but the important thing was that he was trying.

He told himself that as long as it didn’t happen again, it would all fade. Everything would go back to normal. Like getting out of Arcanium, he just had to give it time.