Circus Supernatural

Chapter 8

Dawson grabbed my hand, gently tugging me forward.

"I think we need some heat." he said in a seductive tone, winking at me over his shoulder with a grin.

My stomach did a somersault and I let out an embarrassing squeak that provoked a guffaw of laughter from Dawson. My face flushed and I rolled my eyes at myself.

We walked with purpose away from the mermaid tank, following a dusty path, the circus tent to my right casting an cooling shadow from the rising heat of the morning sun. To our left was a large hexagonal wooden pen, and inside was a menagerie of animals. Their vocalizations reverberated throughout the circus, as golden lion stalked the interior perimeter of the paddock. Its eyes shifted to watch us pass as its mouth opened, baring its deadly teeth. I shuddered as we came within a few feet of the paddock, tightening my grip on Dawson's hand. He noticed and paused, turning to me with a look of concern on his face. His eyes darted to where I was looking, as I gulped in response to the rib rattling roar of the lion. He gave my hand a comforting squeeze.

"Don't mind Leo. He's a pussycat really." he chuckled, as the lion roared again, louder this time, making me jump. Dawson released my hand and I felt its loss in my own, before he slipped a hand around my shoulder and bumped his hip against mine.

"He can't get out of there can he?" my words trembled, as I assessed the thin wood of the paddock. It didn't look very high. If the lion took a notion for it I had no doubt it could leap right over and maul me like a rag doll. As if the lion sensed my thoughts, it licked its lips and I swear it winked at me.

"Leo, behave." chuckled Dawson and I arched a brow as the lion seemed to...grin...then turned and strolled away.

"What.." I stuttered, looking at him incredulously. "What the hell was that, it was like it heard you. And did it...wink at me?"

Dawson shrugged with a grin. As much as that smile made my skin tingle, it was getting on my nerves. Like I was missing the big picture and he was playing some game with me. That familiar prickle of mistrust crept up my spine, and I felt myself pull away from him. I wrapped my arms protectively around me, and turned my back on him. I heard him clear his throat before coming around to face me. His fingertip tucked under my chin, tipping my face so that my eyes met his.

"I know this is daunting and weird, and there is a lot left for me to show you. I can only imagine how it seems to someone who's never experienced the supernatural world, but I promise you. I will tell you everything, and you are safe. I know I have no right to ask you to trust me. But all I can ask is that you give me a chance." his tone was soft and sultry and felt like silk to my ears.

There was a genuineness to the way he spoke, and although everything in me screamed to run and never look back, I felt sure that now I had seen the little snippets of the circus and the magic that weaved through it, that I would never be able to be able to traverse the real world without learning all there was to know about this place. Whether I chose to stay was a question I put a big old pin in for now.

I nodded, and matched his pace as we began to walk again, I glanced over my shoulder as the lion circled and then stretched its huge pause with a roar of a yawn before laying down on its side.

We walked towards a wooden gate attached to a large fence, and with a gentlemanly chivalry, Dawson unlatched the gate, swinging it open. With a little bow he flourished his hand in direction, indicating we were heading towards a collective of small tents.

A woman stepped from the larger one at the centre. She was tall and lithe, carrying herself with such grace that when she walked it looked like she was gliding. Her hair was the colour of the sunset, a gradient of yellow, orange, and tipped at the base with flames of red. She was dressed in a skin tight body suit, the colours matching her hair. Behind her large wings protruded from her back, vast and radiating a powerful glow. The wings were adorned with scales arranged in a mesmerizing pattern, each one overlapping the next like a suit of armour. The colours blaze with the hues of a roaring fire, transitioning seamlessly from deep, smouldering reds at the base to bright, fiery oranges and yellows towards the tips. The wings catch the light, and they seem to flicker and dance, as if actual flames are rippling across their surface. She held two elongated silver sticks in her hand, which she twirled between her well manicured fingers. I stared at her, awe struck by her beauty and transfixed at the realism of her wings. They moved with a rhythm of waves lapping at the shore as if of their own accord. If i hadn't already seen a real life mermaid I would have surmised that the wings were a prop, but deep down I knew they were a part of the woman and the reality made my head spin.