Wicked as They Come (17 page)

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Authors: Delilah S Dawson

BOOK: Wicked as They Come
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It came to me then, and the words rose from my mouth unbidden, deep, and husky. “The boys will betray you,” I said. “Not for blood but money. They know the hiding place. If you begin with fists, it will end in teeth. Only the master can bind them.”

His bulging shoulders hunched inside the scarred leather suit. “Master?” he said, his deep voice tremulous with fury.

“It will be done,” Criminy said softly from behind me.

“Thank you, Lady Letitia,” Torno said. He pulled a gold coin from somewhere in his suit and laid it on the table before me, then walked back toward his trailer, clenching and unclenching his gloved fists. The clockwork dog trotted in his wake, doing an occasional backward somersault.

“See?” Criminy said, picking up the coin. “I knew it. You’re a natural.”

“I barely understand what I said. But I guess he knows what it means?” I asked.

“He knows. And I do, too. Catarrh and Quincy have always looked up to him, but apparently, they were going to steal something valuable from him. I’ll give them a firm talking-to. Problem solved.”

“You don’t mind having attempted thieves here?” I asked, then I laughed. “Oh.”

“Yes. Oh,” he said. “I trained them myself. But we don’t steal from our own. They’re young. They’ll learn.”

The next person stepped up. It was the lizard boy, Eblick. I’d never actually seen him vertical thus far—just passed out in the sunshine. He was thin and sickly-looking, with pale green scales and watery black eyes, and he wore only a brown vest and trousers. He was one of the few people I’d met who let any part of their body show, but he certainly didn’t look very tasty.

“Master,” he said, bowing respectfully. “Lady.”

“Hi,” I said, and Criminy shook his head.


Hi
doesn’t really set the stage, love. Try something more ominous, like
Greetings from the beyond
or
Your future awaits
or something dramatic. Or just skip it and stare them down.”

I pinned Eblick with my fiercest stare, and he quaked and gulped. “If you’ll be so kind as to give me your right hand,” I said, “I will look into your future.”

He held out a claw-tipped, scaly hand. The palm was grayish-white, with long scales like a snake’s belly. I grasped it with my own hand and waited for the jolt, but nothing happened. I looked at Eblick, and he was braced as if for electrocution, his eyes squeezed shut.

Time to wing it.

“Ah, yes,” I said. “You are fearful, but you must overcome this fear to reach your full potential. Claim your power in the world by gaining strength and . . . eating healthfully and . . . using a magical oil. See the master later,” I said, trying to imitate the same husky voice that had come over me with Torno.

“Thank you, lady,” Eblick said, worship in his eyes. He placed a transparent silvery scale on the table before me. “I will do as you say.”

When he had left, staring at his hand as if secrets were written there, Criminy said, “That wasn’t a glance, was it?”

“No, I made that one up,” I said. “Just give him some sort of nicely scented oil so he won’t look so patchy. He needs to bulk up and get some exercise.”

“Well done, love,” Criminy said with a chuckle. “Now you’re getting it.”

“What’s with the scale? People are allowed to pay with body parts now?”

“They can always pay with blood, but nobody wants lizard blood,” he said. “That scale is quite a gift, really. Great healing properties there. Or it can be pulverized and added to draughts and spells. Clever girl, to see that power was what the lad wanted most.”

“You were right,” I said. “It’s pretty obvious when you just look at them.”

My next customer appeared, the thin, buck-toothed girl I had seen with Emerlie in the dining car. She was wearing a ridiculous floppy hat that barely fit in my tent. She flounced into the chair and said, “I wish to know how to solve my . . . problem.”

“If you’ll remove your right glove,” I said, and held out my own bare hand.

“Nothing doing. I’m a lady,” she said with a sniff.

“Would you like to be a lady with or without a job?” Criminy growled over my shoulder.

“Master, I’m twenty-two, and I’ve never touched anyone outside of my family,” she said, disgusted. “And your pardon, sir, but I don’t know this . . . person.”

“I do,” Criminy said. “And I’ve let her touch me. That should be good enough for the likes of you.”

I could almost see her tucking away that bit of gossip for later, but she knew she didn’t have a choice. She daintily removed the glove and held out a hand with fingernails chewed to the quick. She huffed and stared into the air over my head.

I grasped her hand and waited for the jolt.

There.

“The answer lies in the city of Bixby. There is a chirurgeon there.” I stumbled over the odd word on the sign from my glance. “He’s a pioneer. But the price will be very high. Think carefully before striking a deal.”

“How much?” she said in a shocked whisper.

I pinned her with my eyes. “High,” I said. “The spirits will not allow me to say more.”

“Thank you, lady.” She absentmindedly set a coin on
the table and wandered away, patting her huge hat. The poor girl had mule’s ears hidden under there, and every spell she’d attempted to remove them had backfired. The chirurgeon was apparently a sort of magical surgeon and could fix her. But she was poor, and it was costly. In the end, she’d have to agree to marry him, and he was old and ugly. It was fascinating, my little window into the lives of these bizarre people.

“You’re doing marvelously, love,” Criminy said.

“How many more are there?” I asked. “It’s a little tiring.”

“I’ve required every carnivallero to come,” he said. “There will be even more glancing tonight, so you’d better get used to the strain. Relax more. Have some wine. I can see the worry in the lines of your shoulders.”

He massaged my pinched shoulders for a moment. I focused on relaxing and took a sip of wine from the flask hidden under my little table. The glancing wasn’t as hard as I was making it. Then I felt Criminy’s hands slip from my shoulders down my arms, and his chin settled possessively on my shoulder. When I looked up, I saw Casper waiting, even more gorgeous than yesterday, his eyes guarded but hopeful. Was he as glad to see me as I was to see him?

“How does this work, exactly?” he asked with a polite smile.

“You touch her hand,” Criminy snapped. “Only her hand. She tells your fortune. You pay her.”

Casper held out his hand. I was drawn to his eyes, but he was having a staring match with Criminy over my shoulder.

“I can’t really work with you perching on me,” I said in a playful tone.

He released me, but not before his black-gloved hand
caressed my face. I could feel him in the shadows of my tent, tense and lurking behind me. “Get on with it, love,” he whispered.

I focused on Casper. His poet’s blouse was open, revealing a tanned chest with some sparse golden hairs. His hair was brushed to a wavy sheen and pulled back, and he had silver rings in one of his ears, like a pirate. Those long, beautiful fingers were held out to me as if we were going to go on a picnic in a magical meadow. For just a moment, I forgot all about the possessive Bludman behind me. I took Casper’s outstretched hand.

There.
The jolt, like sunrise piercing the clouds.

Interesting.
Such a secret he had, this boy. And now I had one, too.

I had to keep control. I struggled to keep my voice even. I fought to smile, wondering if it came out as more of a grimace.

“You’ve found what you were looking for,” I said. “Your future is long and filled with greatness. You’ll find one heart’s desire and lose another. Loss will be your salvation. Happiness lies over the rainbow.”

“Interesting,” he said.

“A mystic, baffling wonder,” I answered softly.

“All truths wait in all things, and you like Whitman. Tell me more,” he said, leaning closer, blue eyes bright. His other hand grasped our already clasped hands, bare skin wrapped around my fingers, and it felt so intimate an embrace that I blushed and dropped my eyes.

“Pay her and get on,” Criminy growled. “Your fortune’s been told, boy.”

Casper laughed softly, his fingers subtly stroking mine as he released me. “So it has, Master Stain,” he said as he
stood and dropped a coin onto the table. “But things can always change.”

“Not glances, lad,” Criminy said from the darkness.

“I hope we can talk more soon. When we’re alone,” Casper said with a pointed look and a disarming smile before ducking out of the tent.

I watched him walk away, back proud and hair blowing softly in the breeze. I’d keep his secret, and he’d never know mine. I picked up his coin, a simple copper, rubbing it between my bare fingers before tucking it into my blouse. It was the same one I’d seen dancing over his knuckles. This one I wanted to keep for myself.

Then the bearded lady appeared, blocking my view. I pasted my smile back on and reached for her hand. In the hazy distance, I heard someone playing “Somewhere over the Rainbow” tenderly on a harpsichord.

An hour later, I was
almost through the line. I’d seen secrets, hopes, dreams, crises, tragedies, and a few strange comedies. Most people seemed to want the same things—love, sex, power, riches, beauty. I supposed it was the same in any world.

The next person in line was Veruca, the Abyssinian. Most people had approached me with either fear or disdain, but she seemed completely ambiguous. I couldn’t read her. I hoped a real glance would come, because otherwise, the only thing I would know to say was that she was fearless and unique, which I was betting she already knew.

She wasn’t wearing gloves, and it was hard not to stare at the dark, oiled skin of her exposed body. She held out her hand without a word. I took it.

There.

That was odd.

“You have everything you wish,” I said quietly. “But still you will have more. You will always find what you seek, and you will perform a great service. But your end will be a grisly one.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” she demanded. Her voice was high and guttural, and her tongue was pierced.

“There will be a tall, dark stranger,” I said. “And something involving a bee.”

She chuckled. “That’s cryptic,” she said. Then she looked over my shoulder at Criminy and said, “I like her.”

She tossed a coin onto the table and left.

As I considered the strange and colorful future I had glanced for Veruca, I felt Criminy tense behind me. A small, stiff man hesitated before my tent. His face was scrunched up in disgust under a green velvet bowler hat that extended in faded leather down his throat and buckled under his chin with shiny brass. It was too tight, and his chin bulged with fat wrinkles underneath.

Although every Pinky I’d seen other than Casper kept his skin covered, this man took it to the extreme, with straps, buckles, and flaps crisscrossing his body. I imagined that if he were chopped open, he would have concentric rings of old leather, like a tree.

“I fail to understand why this unholy foolishness is necessary,” the man said.

“Because I say it is,” Criminy said darkly. “Lose the glove.”

“No offense, lady,” he said, failing entirely to meet my eyes. “But I was raised to believe that glancing was irreligious tomfoolery. I think you’re a charlatan and a bride of the devil. I do not wish to participate.”

“You owe me a debt, Elvis,” Criminy growled. “And I
don’t care if you believe her or not, but you’ll play along, just like everyone else.”

The man fumed, and I could hear his teeth grinding. With jerky, angry movements, he removed a thin cloth glove. Underneath it was a leather glove, and when he finally managed to yank it off his hand, I could smell his skin. I really didn’t want to touch that foul, sweaty hand.

But if he had to, I had to.

As I reached out, he drew back and looked away as if I were going to slap him across the face. The second our skin touched, I felt the jolt.

Oh, this was going to be bad.

Now I remembered where I had heard his name before.

Instead of letting the glance speak through me this time, I fought it. Now my own teeth were grinding, and my hand clutched his in a death grip.

“Say it, love,” Criminy whispered. “Don’t fight the glance.”

“You killed her,” I said softly. “While she was dancing in the woods. But she couldn’t help what she was. You think it’s your holy mission, but you’re just a small-minded coward. You want to kill Criminy, too. There will be a reckoning.”

“You’re a lying bitch!” he screamed, spit flying from his dry lips.

“You’re a murderer,” I said.

Criminy flashed past me. His hand settled around the man’s throat, his arm rigid and his face feral as he lifted the leather-wrapped body from the ground with more strength than I would have imagined. My hand ripped free of his grasp, and I wiped it off on my skirt.

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