The Circus of the Stars has one big main tent, and two smaller ones. There
is a whole row of trailers and animal cages at the back. It is flooded with
yellow lamp-light. The bigger tent is composed of red and white stripes and
it is alive. We are driving down a hill towards the main entrance.
"Did someone die tonight?" I ask Beady.
"Not yet," he says.
"Then why are we here?"
Warren just smiles grimly and replies, "You'll see."
We drive through the main gates into the parking lot. There are tyre tracks all over the place, and now that we are closer I can see that there is a tear in the side of the tent. There was excitement here a few hours ago. It must have been some show.
We head over to the main tent. There is some muscle standing guard.
Beady shows his badge and says, "We're here to see Devon Rayne."
The big guy inclines his head, "He's in the second tent." I decide that the guy is all visual with nothing to back it up, and that I could take him if I really wanted to. This makes me feel good. I pretend to forget how pathetic it is.
Beady and I enter the second tent. It is much smaller, only room size. A flash of blonde hair is falling over a full ledger. Devon Rayne's desk is so elegantly tidy, you wonder if he can ever possibly use it. Mine always looks like a bomb has hit it.
Devon looks up at us and then stands. He matches his desk. His hair is white gold and falls in waves just past his shoulder. His eyes are dark, mesmerising. His high cheekbones give him an exotic appearance.
The clothes he is wearing do not do much to dissuade the image. He has on a white shirt with a stiff colour and gold braid buttons. He is wearing a black coat with royal purple lining. The shirt is loosely tucked into tight black jeans. If he turns around I know I will not be able to resist looking at his ass. Blame it on my human side.
He holds out his hand to Warren, "A pleasure to see you again Officer Beady." They shake hands. I presume they met earlier in the day when Beady was here. I sincerely doubt it is really a pleasure to see him again so soon.
Devon turns to me, "And who is this beautiful woman?"
I am pretty enough to be patted on the head and told I am a good girl, but I am not pretty enough to be beautiful. I pretend I haven't heard what he's said and use my very best gruff voice, "I'm Jack Dean." I emphasise the 'Jack' because it sounds like a boy's name. I have a feeling if I gave Devon Rayne my full name, Jacqueline, he would use it, and I don't want him to use it.
I offer him my hand to shake. I am going to grip his hand so hard there is no way he cannot believe I am not masculine.
Devon Rayne takes my hand and turns it palm down. He bends over and kisses my fingers in full-blown gentleman fashion. If I wasn't too busy being surprised I would pull my hand away.
"A pleasure," he repeats in a murmur. Devon Rayne seems to find a lot to be pleased about.
If he thinks I am going to get all girly just because he kissed my hand, he is wrong.
Devon waves a hand at the two empty seats and we sit. He reseats himself now that we are sitting.
"Where were you last night Mr. Rayne?" Beady asks. We have finished with niceties already.
Devon Rayne looks surprised that he's asked. He says, "I was here all night Mr. Beady. May I ask why?"
"Now you know we had a bear attack last night," says Beady. Oh does he. When did you let that particular detail slip Warren? Stop telling everything to our suspects.
"Yes, that you did," Devon agrees. He learns back in his chair and opens his arms. He is trying to appear submissive and dominant at the same time. All at once my senses flare.
Suddenly Devon Rayne is the most honest man I know. I have never met anyone more friendly, more open. There is no way he can be the murderer we are searching for, it is just physically impossible. The man is a halo short of a saint.
Shit. What am I thinking!?
I manage to pull my eyes away from Devon's physical and spiritual beauty long enough to tune in to what he is saying.
"I realise how bad this must look for me Mr. Beady, but what can I say? The bear attack last night is purely coincidence. None of my animals has ever gotten out of control before now. I have a record so clean you can eat off of it. I have of course, immediately had the creature put down."
Rayne looks so radiantly sad when he says it. I look at Beady to see if he is buying this shit, and damnit, he is. He doesn't know what he's feeling is not real. He thinks Devon Rayne is as pure as the Pope. I know how pure the Pope really is.
"Why did you have the animal put down Mr. Rayne?" I ask. Devon Rayne's gaze turns on me. His eyes are boring under my skin. Whatever he is trying to do to me, it is not working. When he figures that out, he is probably going to be angry. I wonder if I can get Warren Beady out of the tent before two supernatural beasties break out in a blood fight.
Devon Rayne says, "Once they get a taste for blood, they will usually try for it again." I catch on fast. One of Devon Rayne's circus animals has gone wild earlier this evening. Probably a bear. This does not look good for him when only the night before a man was killed in a similar manner. Beady said no one was killed tonight.
"Do you think one of your animals had a taste of blood last night Mr. Rayne?" I ask it in a very patronising voice and meet his eyes as I do it. I am feeling particularly strong-willed tonight.
Devon Rayne is continuing to look at me with his dark eyes. I am going to get mesmerised if I keep looking at them but I don't want to look away first. Suddenly a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. He thinks I am amusing.
He pushes violently at me with all his power. If I wasn't sitting down it would force me to my knees. I am in trouble. He is a lot more powerful than I am. Shit! I am not going to let him kill me. I am not going to go back to hell!
But it is not that kind of force. It is the power of lust, pure and simple. Devon Rayne looks like a greek god. He smells divine. The smallest movement of muscles is food for my eyes. My skin is crawling with so much desire that I am having trouble breathing. If he turns around now I am going to do more than simply stare at his ass. I am probably going to kiss it until he takes me on the table.
I clench the armrests so hard that the metal creaks, "Stop it."
"Stop what Ms. Dean?"
"I said stop it. Fucking stop it now!"
All of his power falls away in less than two seconds. I cannot be foolish enough to believe I have won. He has let me have this round, because he wants me to know I am too insignificant to hold up my own against him.
I am doubled over in my chair, one palm clutching onto his desk. I am gulping in air as though it is the only thing between myself and death. Beady is still staring off with glazed eyes. He has missed our performance.
"You've made your point," I tell Rayne. Or perhaps I should call him Valadheir.
"What was my point Ms. Dean?"
"You're a hell of a lot stronger than I am."
Devon Rayne leans back in his chair and crosses one leg over the other. "I've been here a lot longer than you have Ms. Dean."
I am sick of hearing my last name, "Call me Jack."
Devon's mouth twitches, "If that's what you want."
I muster all of my courage and shoot Rayne the biggest evil I can manage whilst still doubled over, "Are you going to kill Janette Hastings as well?"
Devon's eyes go very round. "Has she done something to merit my attention?" he asks. His voice is very innocent, pure, but it is not mocking.
His answer completely throws me off. I don't know what I am going to say next. Finally I tell him lamely, "You've been stalking her."
Devon takes a minute, and then laughs. His laughter sounds like chocolate for the ears. It is that tasty. "Have I? I hope I've been enjoying myself."
I look up at him. Fuck. He doesn't know what I'm talking about. He doesn't even know who Janette Hastings is.
"You did kill Fred Masters?"
Devon leans forward and puts his palms on the desk. He is very intent on me now. Warren Beady is forgotten.
"I covered it up," he tells me, "We cannot be exposed to the human race. I admit I may have been a little overconfident in my control of my animals. I am no devourer."
"Who did it?" I ask. I have to know this. I am not powerful enough to beat Devon Rayne, but maybe I can beat the real killer.
"You'll have to find that out Ms. Dean," he tells me, "I do not know." I don't think he is going to help me either.
I have to be verbally defiant. It is the only thing I can do.
"I said call me Jack."
His lip twists in amusement again, and he says, "Jack."
I have come here to make amends, but I wonder what Devon Rayne has come here for. Somehow I don't think it is to pay for his crimes.
"Did someone die tonight?" I ask Beady.
"Not yet," he says.
"Then why are we here?"
Warren just smiles grimly and replies, "You'll see."
We drive through the main gates into the parking lot. There are tyre tracks all over the place, and now that we are closer I can see that there is a tear in the side of the tent. There was excitement here a few hours ago. It must have been some show.
We head over to the main tent. There is some muscle standing guard.
Beady shows his badge and says, "We're here to see Devon Rayne."
The big guy inclines his head, "He's in the second tent." I decide that the guy is all visual with nothing to back it up, and that I could take him if I really wanted to. This makes me feel good. I pretend to forget how pathetic it is.
Beady and I enter the second tent. It is much smaller, only room size. A flash of blonde hair is falling over a full ledger. Devon Rayne's desk is so elegantly tidy, you wonder if he can ever possibly use it. Mine always looks like a bomb has hit it.
Devon looks up at us and then stands. He matches his desk. His hair is white gold and falls in waves just past his shoulder. His eyes are dark, mesmerising. His high cheekbones give him an exotic appearance.
The clothes he is wearing do not do much to dissuade the image. He has on a white shirt with a stiff colour and gold braid buttons. He is wearing a black coat with royal purple lining. The shirt is loosely tucked into tight black jeans. If he turns around I know I will not be able to resist looking at his ass. Blame it on my human side.
He holds out his hand to Warren, "A pleasure to see you again Officer Beady." They shake hands. I presume they met earlier in the day when Beady was here. I sincerely doubt it is really a pleasure to see him again so soon.
Devon turns to me, "And who is this beautiful woman?"
I am pretty enough to be patted on the head and told I am a good girl, but I am not pretty enough to be beautiful. I pretend I haven't heard what he's said and use my very best gruff voice, "I'm Jack Dean." I emphasise the 'Jack' because it sounds like a boy's name. I have a feeling if I gave Devon Rayne my full name, Jacqueline, he would use it, and I don't want him to use it.
I offer him my hand to shake. I am going to grip his hand so hard there is no way he cannot believe I am not masculine.
Devon Rayne takes my hand and turns it palm down. He bends over and kisses my fingers in full-blown gentleman fashion. If I wasn't too busy being surprised I would pull my hand away.
"A pleasure," he repeats in a murmur. Devon Rayne seems to find a lot to be pleased about.
If he thinks I am going to get all girly just because he kissed my hand, he is wrong.
Devon waves a hand at the two empty seats and we sit. He reseats himself now that we are sitting.
"Where were you last night Mr. Rayne?" Beady asks. We have finished with niceties already.
Devon Rayne looks surprised that he's asked. He says, "I was here all night Mr. Beady. May I ask why?"
"Now you know we had a bear attack last night," says Beady. Oh does he. When did you let that particular detail slip Warren? Stop telling everything to our suspects.
"Yes, that you did," Devon agrees. He learns back in his chair and opens his arms. He is trying to appear submissive and dominant at the same time. All at once my senses flare.
Suddenly Devon Rayne is the most honest man I know. I have never met anyone more friendly, more open. There is no way he can be the murderer we are searching for, it is just physically impossible. The man is a halo short of a saint.
Shit. What am I thinking!?
I manage to pull my eyes away from Devon's physical and spiritual beauty long enough to tune in to what he is saying.
"I realise how bad this must look for me Mr. Beady, but what can I say? The bear attack last night is purely coincidence. None of my animals has ever gotten out of control before now. I have a record so clean you can eat off of it. I have of course, immediately had the creature put down."
Rayne looks so radiantly sad when he says it. I look at Beady to see if he is buying this shit, and damnit, he is. He doesn't know what he's feeling is not real. He thinks Devon Rayne is as pure as the Pope. I know how pure the Pope really is.
"Why did you have the animal put down Mr. Rayne?" I ask. Devon Rayne's gaze turns on me. His eyes are boring under my skin. Whatever he is trying to do to me, it is not working. When he figures that out, he is probably going to be angry. I wonder if I can get Warren Beady out of the tent before two supernatural beasties break out in a blood fight.
Devon Rayne says, "Once they get a taste for blood, they will usually try for it again." I catch on fast. One of Devon Rayne's circus animals has gone wild earlier this evening. Probably a bear. This does not look good for him when only the night before a man was killed in a similar manner. Beady said no one was killed tonight.
"Do you think one of your animals had a taste of blood last night Mr. Rayne?" I ask it in a very patronising voice and meet his eyes as I do it. I am feeling particularly strong-willed tonight.
Devon Rayne is continuing to look at me with his dark eyes. I am going to get mesmerised if I keep looking at them but I don't want to look away first. Suddenly a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. He thinks I am amusing.
He pushes violently at me with all his power. If I wasn't sitting down it would force me to my knees. I am in trouble. He is a lot more powerful than I am. Shit! I am not going to let him kill me. I am not going to go back to hell!
But it is not that kind of force. It is the power of lust, pure and simple. Devon Rayne looks like a greek god. He smells divine. The smallest movement of muscles is food for my eyes. My skin is crawling with so much desire that I am having trouble breathing. If he turns around now I am going to do more than simply stare at his ass. I am probably going to kiss it until he takes me on the table.
I clench the armrests so hard that the metal creaks, "Stop it."
"Stop what Ms. Dean?"
"I said stop it. Fucking stop it now!"
All of his power falls away in less than two seconds. I cannot be foolish enough to believe I have won. He has let me have this round, because he wants me to know I am too insignificant to hold up my own against him.
I am doubled over in my chair, one palm clutching onto his desk. I am gulping in air as though it is the only thing between myself and death. Beady is still staring off with glazed eyes. He has missed our performance.
"You've made your point," I tell Rayne. Or perhaps I should call him Valadheir.
"What was my point Ms. Dean?"
"You're a hell of a lot stronger than I am."
Devon Rayne leans back in his chair and crosses one leg over the other. "I've been here a lot longer than you have Ms. Dean."
I am sick of hearing my last name, "Call me Jack."
Devon's mouth twitches, "If that's what you want."
I muster all of my courage and shoot Rayne the biggest evil I can manage whilst still doubled over, "Are you going to kill Janette Hastings as well?"
Devon's eyes go very round. "Has she done something to merit my attention?" he asks. His voice is very innocent, pure, but it is not mocking.
His answer completely throws me off. I don't know what I am going to say next. Finally I tell him lamely, "You've been stalking her."
Devon takes a minute, and then laughs. His laughter sounds like chocolate for the ears. It is that tasty. "Have I? I hope I've been enjoying myself."
I look up at him. Fuck. He doesn't know what I'm talking about. He doesn't even know who Janette Hastings is.
"You did kill Fred Masters?"
Devon leans forward and puts his palms on the desk. He is very intent on me now. Warren Beady is forgotten.
"I covered it up," he tells me, "We cannot be exposed to the human race. I admit I may have been a little overconfident in my control of my animals. I am no devourer."
"Who did it?" I ask. I have to know this. I am not powerful enough to beat Devon Rayne, but maybe I can beat the real killer.
"You'll have to find that out Ms. Dean," he tells me, "I do not know." I don't think he is going to help me either.
I have to be verbally defiant. It is the only thing I can do.
"I said call me Jack."
His lip twists in amusement again, and he says, "Jack."
I have come here to make amends, but I wonder what Devon Rayne has come here for. Somehow I don't think it is to pay for his crimes.