Strings Of Fate

Untitled Part 24

Curry cooked in a microwave; check. Beer cap off and a cooler full of replacements at his feet; check. Terrence took a deep breath and settled in with the TV on some random channel. There was no pull to go to the circus at the bakery and away from the music. 

He ate slowly, letting the TV numb his mind. Cold tendrils lashed against his skin. He should have gone hunting for Daniel and pulled him out of the hands of whichever circus member had him. Diving head-first into the circus wouldn't work. There were too many complications and issues - starting with not knowing who would cross his path and how they'd wriggle their fingers at him to get him to behave.

Saving Daniel required a plan. One that wouldn't bring Madame's anger on them. The more the circus encircled him and brought him back into the fold, the more danger of tripping into the trap existed. Worse, there was a part of him that wanted to go back. He drank his beer sharply, pushing that thought away. He didn't want to go back. He wanted to continue running his bakery and living a free life, alone. 

The beer shifted in flavour, turning to water. Terrence wrinkled his nose and put it down on the ground. He put the empty plates to the side on a table before complaints could start. 

"Madame."

"When you're home, we will have to break you of this nasty habit of drinking," Madame said, holding one of the beer bottles between two fingers like a bug. They sat on the previously empty side of the sofa, wearing a mix between a carnival outfit and a more formal one. "It is a very bad coping method."

"I'm hardly a drunk," Terrence defended, "Please don't ruin my stuff. I paid for it."

"Your apartment had far too many empty bottles for one man, and your recycling bin here isn't much better," Madame vanished the bottle and leaned back on the sofa. "I let you have one, but you don't need two."

"What do you want?"

The temperature dropped, and Madame quirked an eyebrow. A small, tiny, movement, but it shifted everything. Terrence's hair stood on end, and his chest ached. That was rude. Taunting Madame while playing a game was a stupid move. He hunched back on himself, expecting fingers to snap into his chest again. Madame waited, fingers tapping on his knee. 

"Do we have to go through this again, Terry?"

"Forgive my strong words, Madame," Terrence forced the words out, his ribs aching from the force. "Perhaps the beer does loosen my tongue, but it loosens my muscles also, and this week has been stressful."

"If you can not keep your tongue, I will have you refused regardless of your age," Madame warned, but the air lost its icy edge. 

"Yes, Madame," Terrence said, bowing his head and lowering his shoulders. The TV continued to play, and Terrence was unsure what had happened on the show. Madame's eyes flickered over to it before it switched off. Trying to rephrase the words more politely proved difficult. "Madame, while the game is a farce, it isn't Sunday. Is there a reason for your visit?"

"A farce feels like a harsh word. Way to make you stay in one place and calm is more apt. I have no intention of forcing you to return when you will do so in your own time with the right care. That being said, I do need you to return for tonight."

Terrence frowned. "I don't think 'the right care' counts as leaving me alone. Nor does asking me to go tonight when I have made it clear I have reasons to remain here." 

"I didn't say I was going to leave you alone. I said I wouldn't force."

"And Danny?"

"Is a potential and is fair game. I made no promises about leaving him alone," Madame said, voice deepening with irritation. "Or have you forgotten that basic tenet of the circus?"

"No, Madame," Terrence said, eyes low. Promise or not to not 'force' him back, in whatever way Madame considered force, questioning the tenets would have him in chains. 

"You worry me, Terrence," Madame exhaled, rubbing their temples as if they had a headache. "You were such a good boy. I don't understand why you left to begin with, and you continue to spout ideas I thought we'd drilled out of you."

Terrence wasn't sure Madame could understand. 

"Is there a reason you need me to come home for tonight?" Terrence asked, keeping his voice soft but ensuring he used the same wording. For tonight, Madame wanted him tonight, but not forever yet.

"Avalon and Brad have been kidnapped. The pack is hunting for them, but it is hard for us to focus with you separate from us," Madame said, clenching and unclenching their fist. Their voice had a strange echo that promised magic and danger in a smooth mix.  "Humans are such greedy things; why do you wish to be one again?"

"Most aren't, Madame," Terrence scratched the back of his head before standing. This was not the time to fight. He moved the plate to the kitchen. He ran some water to keep the plate from staining before putting his shoes on and his jacket. 

Madame's eyes didn't leave him. They nodded approvingly as Terrence returned to their side. "Good boy," they said, grabbing his hand and kissing his knuckles. "I knew you would be reasonable." And yet somehow the relief in their voice at Terrence behaving bit into his stomach and let guilt wriggle.

"Avalon and Brad seem like good people. I won't add to their risk," Terrence said, flushing at the kiss. 

The smile he received shone like the sun and hurt in all the wrong ways. The world twisted, and he arrived in Madame's campervan, the scent of brimstone and magic smothered under sandalwood burning nearby. Madame failed to appear next to him, leaving him to collapse to the soft pillows of their nest to recover. His legs trembled, and his chest pulsed. Strange shadows licked over his body, and he panted as if his energy fueled the spell. 

He cracked his knuckles and tried to centre himself. Someone kidnapped Avalon and Brad. The foolish traffickers would be dead by sunrise. The circus did not take kindly to people stealing their own. Any idiots who dared attempt it would be euthanased to ensure no one else suffered from their hands. 

If they thought they could take someone as visible as an animal hybrid, who knew what other prey they'd gone after before? 

Terrence sat up as his chest stopped pounding and crawled out of Madame's next and over the pillows. A mirror sat, surrounded by perfume, cologne and makeup. Terrence's reflection was that of Jaz. He winced. His skin remained human, but his white fur returned in the mirror, and his mane needed some serious maintenance. He tried to fluff it, but there was nothing there. His fingers touched nothing. Seeing himself as a lion grown up made complicated feelings bubble.

"Terry?"

"Yeah?" His voice didn't raise high, eyes locked on the image. He gave this up to see the world and chose to stay still instead. 

Sanvish slipped into the sacred space and followed his vision. "Oh," the leopard sat next to him and held his hand. "I heard Madame pulled it out of you, but you didn't get a good look, did you?"

Terrence shook his head. His mane moved, flopping in the movement. His tail waved behind him slowly. "I hadn't grown a mane yet when I left, or rather not a full one. Tufts of hair, everyone liked to fluff it."

"You're handsome as a lion. As a human too, of course," Sanvish nudged his side. "Do you think that you will return to your fur again someday?"

"Madame will ensure it, I'm sure," Terrence crossed his hands but couldn't drag his eyes from the image. The spell wouldn't last forever, it had ending requirements. Accepting his place in the circus and being happy was one of them. Not happiness alone, but being happy under the power of demon that turned him. The wording was janky. He'd been young when trying to make it, not stupid. Not being in reversal conditions created loopholes and dangerous situations. He'd ironed it out carefully. 

Sanvish rubbed his cheek against Terrence's and purred.