Page 3 of A Dance With Fire
Chocolate was a weakness. She remembered the first time she’d tasted it. It had been two years after she’d joined the traveling circus. She’d seen it, smelled it, craved it like she hadn’t craved any other food before. She’d just never had the money to actually buy one for herself. And since she’d been a new hire, no one had wanted to give her anything. Not even the scraps. She’d been nothing more than a juggling orphan with stringy hair who danced and tossed rocks for meager coins. Eventually, she’d saved enough to buy herself a small piece of chocolate the size of her nail.
She hadn’t been able to relish it. The taste had exploded over her tongue, and she couldn’t stop her young mouth from devouring the whole thing as if it would disappear if she didn’t.
Wells slapped her fingers away. “Get your ash covered fingers away from my pastries.”
Shula smiled sweetly at him, and for a moment, he lost himself in her gaze.
Fuck.
She reeled back the dazzling smile, her heart pounding. For a second, he’d gotten lost in the haze of her glamor. Unfortunately, that seemed to be the one aspect of her magic she couldn’t very well help. Next time she vowed to wear an iron bracelet. Even if it burned her skin, she needed to diminish her Fae allure.
“Let’s go get some roasted sweet meats,” Shula suggested, hoping her voice didn’t betray her nervousness.
“No more dessert?” Fanny asked in a teasing tone.
Shula shook her head and tugged her friend away before tossing a coin to Wells. “I satisfied my craving.” What she didn’t say was that she needed to get away from him before he fell deeper into her thrall.
She couldn’t say that to Fanny. Though they had been friends for years, being Fae was a secret Shula could entrust to no one. It wouldn’t just put her life in danger, but Fanny’s as well. Besides, she knew what everyone thought of her kind.
No one could know her secret.
No one.
“Give it a few minutes and you’ll be craving sweets all over again. I swear, that sugar has something magical in it that keeps making us go back.”
Shula just laughed, even though any talk of magic made her nervous. “Right? I wonder what it is.”
“Fae drugs, probably.” Fanny dropped her voice to a whisper. Like even muttering the word ‘Fae’ was somehow forbidden, even when they’d been called much worse. “Can you imagine if that were true? If he was putting Esses drugs in our food?"
Shula tried not to grit her teeth.
Esses was a derogatory term. One she’d heard far too often. It was human slang derived from the words ‘Seelie Scum’. They’d shortened it to S.S. Eventually, Esses. But everyone knew what it meant, and it wasn't kind.
“Ugh, I would just die.” Shula pulled her hair in place over her ears.
“Right? Gross!”
They skipped their way over to the sweet meats and bought two kabobs. Shula devoured those just as easily as she had the pastries, and when she finished, they tossed them into an overflowing garbage bin.
Circus goers were already stumbling away, back to their little homes, back to the reality of their world where they were protected by what they were and what blood ran through their veins.
“See you tomorrow, Fanny.”
“Bye, Shules.” Fanny, like always, wrapped her arms tightly around Shula’s waist in a hug that spoke of caring and friendship. Shula held her back with a smile. It was in these moments, when she was held with no reservations, that she could pretend like everything was normal. Like she wasn’t what the world despised and feared above all others. She could pretend that Fanny would never fear her, if she ever knew the truth.
Fanny extricated herself from Shula and skipped away. Their living tents were on opposite sides of the dry field, Shula’s near the very back on the western end. She walked through the pitch-black field. Lights had already begun shutting off, candles and torches that had illuminated even the darkest of shadows had now died. Her feet didn’t stumble against the uneven earth, because she could see well in the dark. She could make out the outline and details of every tent, every rock, and every hidden pebble.
So when a lone figure cloaked in shadows stepped from her tent, Shula did not cry out in surprise.
She probably should have, at least to keep up with the illusion that she was human, but there was no one around her that would witness this interaction. She hadn’t heard footfalls or the deep rise and fall of breathing. No, the mask was not necessary at all when she came face to face with Davina.
“Shula Azzarh,” the woman greeted, her voice a low, ominous sound in the dark.
Shula fought back a shiver. She hated the way her name sound on the woman’s mouth. The way she ended it on a low growl that could very well have been threatening.
“Madame Davina.” Shula nodded and tried to sidestep the woman, but all she did was follow and block her path once again.
Shula frowned at the woman. Clad in purple drapery that hid the shape of her body and a turban that wrapped around the entirety of her head, covering her skin and the tips of her ears. There was an ethereal beauty about her. Pointed cheekbones and a sharp cutting chin. Her eyes were wide and knowing.
