Bloodlust

"And, boy?" Gallagher asked, turning back toward me.

"Yes?"

"You want to place a bet on the fight? Winnerll take a lot. Could make you a fortune." He raised an eyebrow.

My eyes narrowed, and blood screamed through my veins, fast and hot. How dare this man ask me to bet on my brothers life? How dare he act so self-important when I could rip his throat out in an instant?

"Stefan?" Callie asked warily.

Forcing myself to calm down, I reached into the pockets of my well-worn britches and pulled them inside out. "Im afraid I have no money, sir. Thats why Im so grateful to have this job."

Gallagher took a step closer to me. "You say youre from Mississippi, boy?" He gazed at me curiously. "Your accent sounds more northern–maybe Virginian."

"My parents were from Virginia. I suppose their accent rubbed off on me," I said in as casual a voice as I could muster.

After a long moment, he nodded. "Well, when you rustle up some currency, come find me. In the meantime, Callie will show you the ropes. And son?" he called, turning on his heel.

"Yes, sir?" I asked.

"Ill be watching you."

Chapter 17

Dont be bothered by him," Callie said, once her father was a safe distance away.

"Im not," I lied.

Her green eyes flicked over me, as if she didnt believe my words. But she didnt press the issue.

"Ill give you a quick tour," she said, taking me into one of the smaller tents. In a corner, a woman was hunched over a mirror. She turned, and I took a step back. Her face was covered with tattoos, which, upon closer inspection, were courtesy of rapidly drying India ink.

"The tattooed woman," Callie said. "And the conjoined twins."

The woman and the twins next to her waved at us. The twins bodies were connected at the hip. They were beautiful, with blond hair and sad expressions. A man with flippers instead of arms whispered something in one of their ears. They glanced at each other, then broke into laughter.

"This is the show." Callie opened her hands wide, and for the first time I noticed a wooden stake dangling on a silver chain from her wrist. She also had a sprig of vervain tucked behind her ear.

"Miss Callie!" A hulking, seven-foot-tall mountain of a man ducked under the door of the tent and walked toward us. He picked her up by her tiny waist and swung her around.

"Arnold!" she said gleefully. "The worlds strongest man. Married to the bearded lady," she explained to me before looking back up at Arnold. "How is Caroline feeling?"

The giant shrugged. "Shes doing well. Cant wait to come back and introduce everyone to the babies."

"They just had twins!" Callie said fondly.

I nodded my greeting to the man and gazed over Callies shoulder. Where were they keeping Damon?

"Are you okay?" Callie asked. She brushed my arm, and I flinched when the vervain touched my skin.

"I just need air," I said, bursting out of the tent.

Callie ran after me. "Im sorry, Stefan," she said, her voice cold. "Some people dont like it here. Theyre not comfortable. But somehow I thought youd be different."

"No, its not that." Even surrounded by these human curiosities, I was the biggest freak of them all: the vampire who pretended to be human. "Ive just got a lot on my mind. I promise you, I like it here."

"Okay," she said, not sounding quite convinced. But she continued to lead me farther into the grounds. We passed a two-headed cat, a sad-looking monkey playing "Old Tom Dooley" on a harmonica, and the skeleton of what a sign declared to be a sea monster. Some freaks milling around were obviously actors, wearing fabric tubes filled with straw to simulate extra limbs, while others had been born that way.

"Come with me," Callie said as she tugged on my arm. But I stayed. A black iron wagon rolled up to the tent, similar to the one Father had used to round up vampires during the Mystic Falls siege. It stopped, and the driver jumped from the cart. Immediately, five burly men rushed up with stakes. Once they were in place, the driver unlocked the back of the wagon. The scent of vervain wafted in the air, causing my joints to ache.

Damon.

"And theres your vampire," Callie said, her mouth set in a firm line as all five men dragged Damon from the back of the wagon. One burly man, his sweat-stained shirt rolled at the sleeves, kept a stake positioned firmly over his heart.

"Gentle now, Jasper! We need him alive before the fight!" Callie called, her voice sharp. Damon turned, baring his teeth in our direction. I saw surprise in his eyes, which quickly turned into contempt.

"My little brother, the good Samaritan," he whispered under his breath, barely moving his jaw. Luckily, he said it low enough that only I heard.

His voice sent a tremor through my body. Callie cocked her head, and I realized how risky it was for Damon and me to be in such close proximity. Would spite cause him to call me out as a fellow demon? "Are you sure I cant help with the vampire?" I asked her.

"You heard my father. Well start you at the ticket counter. And if anyone tries to sneak in, let Buck handle them," she said, gesturing to the hulking man hovering several paces behind her like a distended shadow.

A commotion sounded in front of the tent. Callie let out a whistle as we approached. The front flap was closed tight, and a mass of people had surrounded a wooden ticket booth. Some, dressed in tattered britches and with dirt-stained hands, were clearly from the shantytown surrounding the lake. But others were dressed in their finest: the men in top hats and silk smoking jackets, the women in feather-adorned hats and silk dresses, fur stoles draped around their bosoms.