Rain thundered from the sky in heavy bullets, flattening new grass and folding thin trees in its wake. Margali Szardos woke with a shutter to the sound of her dogs' fury. Outside they barked and howled as if the devil was on their tails. "Keyla," she whispered, nudging her younger sister awake. Keyla's green eyes snapped open and she looked around. "What is it, sister?" she asked, taking quick, careful steps toward the door. Margali knew something was outside, and she needed to know what, but her sister was never one to follow her blind intuition. "I want to check on the dogs," she lied, "and I hoped you would come with me." Keyla rolled her eyes irritably, but with a heavy grunt she shouldered the RV's door open against the gale force winds. Outside, the field that the Munich Circus had set up camp in looked as if it had been ravaged by a hurricane. Lightning cracked the sky in two, illuminating the camp in an unholy blue light. The dogs' eyes flashed as they tore against their bonds. "Halten!" Stop, Keyla commanded with a sharp wave of her hand. The four massive shepherds calmed immediately, their cries of rage reduced to angry, rumbling snarls. Margali stepped from her trembling camper after her sister. Her sharp golden-brown eyes were slitted against the pounding rain. "Do you see anything?" she called over the roar of the wind. Keyla shook her head. Another spear of lightning split the sky and once again, the grounds were bright as day, if only for a moment. Against the tree line, Margali saw something. Without a sound she leapt forward, reaching the small bundle in little time. Keyla was by her side in an instant. The thing was tiny, no larger than a loaf of bread, but it wriggled and squirmed with small, pitiful whimpers coming from behind the screen of soaked cloth. Keyla picked it up in trembling hands and slowly peeled back the waterlogged fabric. "Well?" Margali asked, leaning forward eagerly. Keyla's face had frozen, washed out of any color, into a mask of fear and revulsion. "Mein Gott!" she cried, " ein Teufel!" A devil! "It's a monster!" Her arms clenched as if she was preparing to throw the infant into the woods. "Don't!" Margali screamed as she snatched the bundle from her sister's shaking hands. "Sister, please," Keyla begged, her voice choked and terrified, "the thing, it is an unholy beast!" Margali tugged the screen of cloth away from the child's face. Brilliant, glowing golden eyes watched her from a face as dark and blue as Munich's night sky. A dark mess of black hair was plastered to the infant's forehead by the rain. Margali reached up slowly, and gently stroked the baby's cheek. His blue coloring was not his skin, but the soft, sleek layer of fine blue fur covered him. The corners of the baby's mouth curved up in a beautiful, sharp-toothed smile. Margali smiled back as warmth lit in her belly, brought on by the feel of the tiny body clutched in her own worn hands. "Not a monster, Keyla, a miracle," she whispered, watching the child struggle to free one of it's arms from the tightly wrapped blanket. Its hand emerged with what looked like the surprise appearing on the child's face. The limb was nearly as strange as the rest of him. Two long fingers curled into a tiny fist, covered by a powerful-looking thumb. His hands were slim and long, and covered in the same short navy-blue fur as the rest of his body. Without another thought, the gypsy woman hurried back into the RV. She held the baby close to her as if to protect him from the roaring storm. Gently she laid him on the kitchen counter and unwrapped him from his soggy blanket. "Easy there, little guy," she whispered. He squirmed fearfully as her fingertips brushed his soft, almost fuzzy belly. Every part of him was soaked to the bone and he trembled, whether from cold or fear she didn't know. Once he was fully unwrapped, Margali saw that his feet were similar to his hands; long and thin with two strong, lanky toes at the end. They were arched like a cat's feet, his heel resting high above the ball of his foot. Margali suspected that if, and when, the boy (as she had realized) grew, he would walk on just his toes, giving height and grace a normal person would never know. Then came the last surprise. As she rolled the baby over to dry his slender back, a skinny prehensile tail uncurled from beneath him and its arrow point writhed in the air like a snake. "Just full of surprises, aren't we, little one?" "Sister, you can't honestly think to keep it!" Keyla yelled from the door. Water sloshed from her shoes with every step. She came to stand beside her sister. She looked at the blue, demonic-looking child that squirmed on her kitchen counter. Margali ignored her. Keyla rested a hand on her shoulder. "Gali, just look at him!" she pleaded. Margali whipped around, fire blazing in her eyes. "I am looking at him, Keylanora!" she yelled furiously, "and I see a small, helpless child that needs me." Her eyes hardened and she stepped closer to the child, as if to protect him. "What do you see?" Keyla shook her head, defeated. "I see a monster, sister, that can bring nothing but evil to us." Margali ran a hand down the child's belly and enticed a smile from him. "Look at him, Keyla," she commanded, "and tell me how he can be evil." Just as Keyla was about to answer she halted, noticing something small and white tucked beneath the child's shoulder. Carefully, as if afraid that she would be bitten, she pulled the slip of soaked paper out from beneath him. "What is it?" Margali asked, but she already knew the answer. It was the mother's note. Keyla peeled it open and began to read it aloud. "This is Kurt, and to whomever finds him, I plead for you to care for my child. He is really quite the angel, despite his appearance. He is barely a week old, and desperately needs a family. Best Wishes and With All of my Love to my Darling Kurt, Frau Wagner." Keyla's eyes softened and she read the letter over once more. "Well?" Margali asked cautiously. Keyla sighed deeply and placed the letter back on the counter. Her eyes never left Kurt. Carefully, almost as if she feared she would break him, she rested a gentle hand on Kurt's tiny forehead. "Welcome to the family, little monster." A smile tugged at her lips. Margali broke into happy tears, snatching the baby up and holding him close to her. "Yes, yes, welcome to the family, Kurt." She glanced down to find Kurt fast asleep against her. "Our little Kurt Teufel Wagner."

Mr. Jardine stepped through the open flap of the main tent with a smug grin plastered to his face. He held his head high and scanned the small crowd of performers as if he owned the place. Margali Szardos stood at the head f the group. Her dark hair caught the light and her golden-brown eyes flashed as Arnos approached. "From what I've seen, Frau Szardos, I will admit that this is a rather impressive… production." His eyes swept over the crowd, stopping at the teenager that stood at Margali's shoulder. His eyebrow rose as he took in the tall, slender boy whose glowing yellow eyes hadn't left him since he'd entered the tent. He was dressed in a baggy canvas shirt and tan draw-string pants that were expected for a circus performer, but it was the fact that the teenager was covered in short blue fur that drew Arnos Jardine's attention. "And what sort of creature might this be, Margali?" he sneered. Margali stiffened and took a step back, towards her son. Kurt's tail lashed like an angry serpent and he bared his pointed teeth in a snarl. "Funny," he growled darkly, "I was about to ask you the same question." Margali turned on her son. "Kurt! That's enough!" She faced Arnos, "I apologize for my son's behavior. This is my youngest son, Kurt Wagner. He's led the acrobatics show for several years now, but he has actively participated in the flying arts since he was seven." Arnos Jardine tilted his head to the side and Kurt could see every speck of stubble on the man's chin that his fine silver razor had missed. "I see." With a flick of his wrist, he requested solitude to gather his thoughts. As the group turned to leave, Mr. Jardine place a hand on Kurt's thin shoulder, holding it in a tight, painful grasp. Kurt whimpered and Stephen turned around at the sound of his brother in pain. Kurt was about to say something, plead for help from his older brother, but Arnos put his other hand on Kurt's trembling shoulder and grinned. "I'll only be a moment, dear boy," he said smoothly, "I just want a word with your brother, nothing more." Stephen's eyes flickered to his little brother questioningly, but Kurt merely shook his head. "Just go, Stephen, I'll be fine. See you in a minute, okay?" Stephen nodded shakily, "Yeah, okay. See you later." Stephen left the tent, pulling the flap down with him, and Mr. Jardine squeezed Kurt's shoulders harder. "So, Mr. Wagner," he said, turning Kurt around forcefully. His eyes had the sick sheen of hunger that he'd seen so often before in people that had taken an interest in the Munich Circus, but this was different. Mr. Jardine fingered Kurt's soft black hair, ran his fingers over the fine velvet that covered every inch of his skin, and all but purred in delight. "Well you're an interesting specimen, aren't you, Mr. Wagner?" He brushed the boy's dark hair back to examine his sharply pointed ears. "Just a right, perfect little freak, aren't we now." Kurt stiffened. His spade-tipped tail lashed furiously, but he wouldn't allow his anger to show on his face. The American took Kurt's sharp, angular face in a strong hand and turned the boy's face from one side to the other. With not-so-gentle fingers, Jardine lifted Kurt's indigo lips to reveal razor-sharp fangs. He chuckled to himself and tousled the boy's hair roughly. "Looks like you'll fit in just fine at the show back in Florida." He laughed again, as if this was some private joke. "Yes sir! Papers got signed this morning," he reached out with a sick grin and snatched Kurt's face in his hand, squeezing his cheeks and lips together as if that would make him look any stranger, "As of nine o' clock tonight, when your boss signs the rest of the circus's deeds, you'll be mine." Kurt cried out and staggered back as if he was in pain. "You're lying!" he screamed, stumbling over feet that suddenly seemed weighted to the ground, "Tell me you're lying!" Arnos Jardine laughed, a full on laugh this time. His whole body shook with the force of it. "No way, freak! You belong to me once the sun sets tonight." Before he could here another word