VIOLET DAWN

Chapter 5

"There's a good crowd gathered out there today, the biggest we've seen in a long time." Old Graham stood behind the colossal red curtains that opened up to the circus stage and stroked his white beard. "I'm thinking it has something to do with you, lassie."

Violet held her violin loosely in one hand while the other fingered the thin material of her blouse. Old Graham's wife, was of the same opinion as her husband, so she had sewn Violet a new outfit as a token of her appreciation. Sarah thought the white flowing skirt and matching tie up blouse made her look like a gypsy bride. 

Violet did not feel like a bride, though she would always feel part gypsy.

The bangles on her arms clinked together as she reached out to run her fingers over the coarse material of the curtains. They were warm now, from the heat of all the bodies waiting to be entertained on the other side.  And entertain them she would, after all she needed this job. The circus had brought her to London and it would support her stay here while she searched.

Ismail. The cursed name rang through her mind as Old Graham continued to babble.

Was the bastard blood drinker out there, even now? How would she know, even if he was? Violet breathed deeply and let the sticky scent of human sweat assail her. She breathed again; apple fritters, baked chestnuts, ale, perfume, vomit. Several rich people were sitting in the front rows, Violet could smell the coins in their pockets, the perfumed powder on their cheeks and starch on their collars.

"Let the show begin!" Old Graham whispered joyously. Violet listened to the curtains rustle as he moved onto the stage. The circus owner was not a bad man. Old Graham and his wife took pride in their business and were harsh but fair with their employees. If circumstances were different, Violet was sure she would enjoy their company, but being in London made her edgy.

How was she going to find him?

She had two things working in her favour, Violet reminded herself as applause erupted from beyond the curtain. One, she knew Ismail was a blood drinker and the Seer had taught her much about that race. They were easy enough to pick out in a crowd since their breaths smelled of blood. And two, Ismail's name. It was neither English nor Scottish, that much she could tell. Tomorrow she would begin to ask around, once she found of the origin of the name she was certain to have another clue.  

"And now ladies and gentlemen, close your eyes and open your  hearts for the magnificent LADY VIOLIN!"

Violet smiled at Old Graham's choice of words; close your eyes indeed. It had come as a surprise to her employers that audience members had not picked up on Violet's blindness. When they said as much, Violet pointed to the distance between the viewers and the stage, but she knew that her confidence was more likely to be the reason no one had guessed. 

Using her nose to guide the way through the endless darkness, Violet moved past the curtains and onto the stage. Silence settled over the crowd as she stepped into the spotlight with her head held high and her feet bare. Her golden bracelets jingled, the large hoops in her ears rocked, but the rest of her was utterly still for three long breathes. Then she lifted her violin into its familiar place between her chin and shoulder and breathed.

Two...three, no four blood drinkers were watching her tonight. The scent of animal blood on their breaths sent a shiver down her spine as she pulled her bow gently over the strings. Could Ismail be one of them?

She ran what she knew about them through her mind. They were faster and stronger than humans. They needed blood, though only once every so often unless they over exerted themselves. They could read thoughts, some more easily than others.