CARLYLE

We tumbled out of the siphon onto hard, packed dirt. The stars swirled above me as I tried to manage the dizziness. The night was dark and silent around us, with barely any moonlight and no movement that I could hear.

I tested my limbs, grinning like mad when I realized I’d done it - we’d both made it without injury.

“Thank fuck,” Killian groaned under his breath, pushing himself up. “I really dinna want to be trapped in a fuckin’ mattress.”

I rolled to my stomach and crawled up to my knees, looking around. I’d gotten us through the siphon safely, but was this the right place? We certainly seemed to be inside a circus campground. Trailers surrounded us, and we were in the shadow of a large, fancy one.

I inhaled deeply, not picking up any humans. That was a good sign.

My pulse picked up as I scented something else, knowing what it was by pure instinct - Jack was here, and he was close. My heart flared with the mating bond, and I staggered to my feet, rolling my shoulders back. Now that there was no chance to turn back, I was suddenly fearful of what we were doing.

“Jack will still be one of us, right?” I blurted, unable to push aside the doubts the harpy had seeded in my mind.

“Aye,” Killian said gruffly. “I willna accept less from tha’ asshole dragon.”

I nodded, taking a deep breath. It didn’t matter anyway. I’d take him home and lock him up with Toro if I had to.

“I just want Jack, and we’re out of here. Forget the ring. No engagement unless we have to,” I warned. I didn’t want to push my luck by confronting the Ringmaster for the second time in one night. We could keep Jack alive without the ring, right?

Killian shrugged, his eyes guarded like he wasn’t sure of my plan. Whatever. We’d do what we could, then get the hell out of here.

Keeping in the shadows, we crept around the edge of the slick trailer. My heart dropped when I saw what waited for us on the other side.

A cage of simple iron bars rested in the dirt, barely five feet square. There was Jack, motionless and curled inside on the hard ground. His neck was still a jagged mess of crusted blood, and I couldn’t even hear if he was breathing.

I started to dart forward, but Killian grasped my shoulder, motioning for me to wait. “Tha’s an iron cage, Qilin. Negates all magic.”

Well, fuck. I couldn’t just siphon in and grab him. Now would have also been a great time to know a spell to unlock an iron cage, but I’d just have to make do.

Sol’s strength wasn’t really magic, was it? Maybe I could bend the bars open.

I felt Killian’s air magic circling the camp. I wondered just how much he felt that way - maybe it was like an extension of his fingers. I shivered, remembering how he’d used the currents to tease my nipples earlier.

Focus, I reminded myself, just as Killian leaned closer. “I’ll glamor myself invisible and keep watch,” he whispered. “Check his pulse, but donna touch the iron.”

Knowing I was totally going to ignore that advice, I crept toward Jack while Killian watched my back.

Reaching carefully through the bars, I pressed my fingers against Jack’s wrist. Nothing. I sucked at taking pulses, though. He was probably just sleeping. Right?

Glancing back to the blank spot where Killian should be, I glimpsed just a hint of shimmer. I didn’t take the time to try and figure out his glamor, though - I had a cage to break open.

I grasped the bars and yanked as hard as I could to separate them, but I was so unprepared for the pain. It was like knives had sliced open every vein in my hand and someone was pouring molten lava into my blood. Gritting my teeth, I forced down the screams that would give us away.

Wrenching against the bars with everything I had, I did manage to bend them apart several inches before my willpower ran out.

Whimpering, I peeled my hands from the bars, leaving several layers of skin behind. Fuck, that had hurt a lot more than I’d expected it to.

Behind me, a door swished open. “Well, well. I expected you to plan another attempt, but I didn’t guess I’d witness a suicide mission tonight,” a dry voice rang out. My stomach dropped as I turned my head to see the Ringmaster standing in the doorway of the trailer.

Fucking hell. Of course, it was his fancy-ass trailer. I’d known that - I’d just chosen to ignore it until it became a problem.

So, now it was a problem. I rose to my feet, glaring daggers at the man who was determined to ruin my life.

“I’m here for my mate,” I said, pleased that my voice wasn’t shaking despite the burning fire spreading through my blood from the iron. He chuckled, coming down a single step. He narrowed his eyes and glanced in Killian’s direction, and I held my breath. Could he see through the glamor?

He turned back to me, though. Either he couldn’t, or he didn’t want me to know he couldn’t.

“I have to admit, following me through my own siphon is a nice trick. Very advanced. You know, you’re the first to surprise me in quite a long time, pretty Qilin.” He paused, coming down another step and smiling like a crocodile. “Wouldn’t you rather cast your lot with someone who can handle the coming war better than your ragtag group of discarded nobles?”

He raised an eyebrow like any of that shit might convince me to just switch sides.

“Not today, motherfucker,” I replied, flipping him off. I did file away his statement to unpack later, though. He scrubbed his hand over his jaw in an uncharacteristically frustrated movement, and I noticed the gold ring glinting on his thumb.

“Parare,” I whispered, focusing intently on the band and wishing I knew the Latin word for it.

The Ringmaster chuckled, lowering himself to the final step. “The correct word is corona, but did you really think I’d be duped by a simple procurement spell? I’m so beyond your friend Dair, he’s like a small child.”

“Parare corona,” I tried for the hell of it. The Ringmaster rolled his icy blue eyes.

“I could teach you so much more than any of those overgrown children you call men.” He stepped onto the ground and advanced on me slowly, as though we had all the time in the world. “You have more potential than they can handle. One day, you could rule all of Haret - but not if you remain tied to the losing side. Don’t you want to win, Carlyle Licorne? Don’t you want to be Queen?”

He obviously knew nothing about me, but I decided to play along. “What girl wouldn’t want to be Queen?”

A moan from the cage behind me jerked my attention away from our conversation, though. Jack was awake!

“Carlyle?” Jack said, as though he couldn’t believe I was really there.

I stepped backward toward the cage, keeping my eye on the Ringmaster. He was allowing it, for some reason. He must have another trick up his sleeve, or else he thought I didn’t have enough power to be a threat.

“I’m here to take you home, dragon,” I said, watching the Ringmaster for any reaction. He gave me none, but I heard Jack sigh.

“You shouldn’t have come for me,” he muttered.

“Whatever. Shut up,” I shot back, gaining another step toward the cage.

“This is his home, Carlyle. If you want to be with him, I can arrange that. He does not belong to you, though. He may have given you his mating bond, but he gave me his ring. What a cheat,” the Ringmaster said, his voice all flirtatious and gross as he flashed the ring at me.

“Sorry, what? I couldn’t hear you over my gagging,” I said, stepping back again.

Behind the Ringmaster, Killian’s glamor flickered just enough for him to become visible. Shit, he was closer than I’d realized. He pointed at the gold ring, then at himself, which I took to mean he would do something to get the ring. The Ringmaster had followed my quick glance, though, and he turned halfway, staring intently at the spot where Killian had gone invisible again.

“Who have you allowed to tag along?” he murmured.

Ah, fuck. Now was the time for me to do something. I tried to gather some of the air currents to myself, hoping to pin the Ringmaster back against his own trailer with hurricane force. Unfortunately, there just wasn’t much air movement on a Texas summer night, and all I managed to do was whip his hair around and blow his coat back a bit.

The Ringmaster loosed a string of Latin, twisting complex shapes with his fingers, and Killian cried out in agony, his form flickering solid again as his glamor shattered.

The Ringmaster tutted his tongue and glanced back to me with a quick grin before locking his magic on Killian and flinging him up in the darkness, several feet above the trailer.

“Dragon,” Killian roared, just before he crashed into the hard earth.

“No,” I cried out, rushing to him. He waved me away, holding up a shaking hand.

“Jus’ get Jack,” he muttered. His eyes rolled back in his head as he fought to stay conscious, and I noticed one of his legs was bent the wrong way. Fuck, I wanted to help him, but he was right.

I swiveled and ran back to the cage, reaching through the gap toward Jack. It just wasn’t big enough, though.

Damn it, I’d have to bend those bars again, which would never happen while the Ringmaster was here. I wracked my brain for something that might get rid of him, but I knew it was futile.

Suddenly, the Ringmaster shrieked, grabbing at his neck, where blood had begun spurting from what appeared to be a spontaneous gash in his jugular. I stumbled back, narrowly missing running into those cursed iron bars.

“How’s tha’ for child’s play?” Killian crowed, flashing into view. I gasped, my eyes flicking between the two Killians before me - one still on the ground, unconscious with a broken leg - the other brandishing a bloody knife as the Ringmaster crumpled to the ground before him.

With a wild motion, he swung the knife down again, just as he chest-punched the Ringmaster so hard he vanished with a popping noise.

“What the fuck?” I blurted. I was so goddamn confused.

“Fucker siphoned somewhere. Hurry an’ get Jack before he heals himself an’ comes back!” Killian shoved something in his pocket and raced toward the cage. The other redheaded body on the ground faded into nothing, and I finally realized it had been an illusion the whole time - a glamor.

My wildcard fae was a fucking genius.

I scrambled into action, grabbing the iron bars again and screaming my outrage against the pain. Pain was temporary, I reminded myself over and over. If I had to siphon the whole goddamn cage back to the beach, I’d do it.

Killian gritted his teeth as he grasped the bars above my head, and we both yanked as hard as we could to pry them apart.

Finally, it was wide enough. I slipped inside and grabbed Jack, hauling him through the too-small gap. He cried out hoarsely as the iron burned his skin, but he was free. We tumbled onto the ground together, his body limp and heavy against mine.

“Carlyle,” he mumbled, his head lolling backward. I felt the slick wetness, and I realized the wound in his neck had opened again and was gushing his lifeblood onto me.

“No, no, no,” I repeated, scrabbling to staunch the bleeding.

“So-sorry,” he slurred. His eyes rolled back, and I screamed, feeling death creep all over his skin and onto mine like a horde of spiders crawling over my hands and arms.

It was a thousand times worse than Toro - like I was dying right with him, being sucked down into black nothingness.

“No!” Killian hauled me out from under Jack - Jack’s body - and shook me until I stopped screaming. My teeth clacked together, and sobs rose in my throat, choking me.

How could this happen? My chest seemed to split open, grief pouring out and making room for an inconsolable rage.

As Killian dragged me farther from Jack, all I could think was that if the Ringmaster thought I’d burned before, he hadn’t seen a single fucking thing.

I had enough fire swirling in my soul right now to take out every dry damn acre of Texas and half of Mexico.