I AM SO SORRY I'VE BEEN GONE SO LONG! *bows profusely* IT hasn't been on purpose… but life has a knack for flinging me into the worst situations…

I'd love to thank a lovely reviewer for giving me such a confidence boost and sharing her thoughts with me. Lady Sindrak, thank you for your lovely words of encouragement and compliments. This chapter is for you.

And thank you to everyone that's still with me, even after all this time. I appreciate your reviews and favorites more than you know.

BTW: Blatant rip-off of "The Prayer" by Celine Dion in the last chapter. I don't own that song, neither do I own Francoeur or Lucille, or any of the other AMIP characters. Anya, Elrick, and all of my other characters I do own, so please don't steal them. This is a work of fanfiction, if you didn't already know.

Chapter Five

After the circus had begun to shut down, the lights around the booths and circling the carousel dousing as each customer slowly tripped on their way home, Elrick was pondering to himself.

He sat within his deluxe trailer, lounging within the black leather armchair he had received as a 'gift' from a rather wealthy friend. Elbows propped against the arms, the dark-haired male stared into the small fire he had stoked in his hearth. His thoughts were consumed by the auburn beauty that rested not far from his home.

"Damn… why do I lust after her so…?"

The ringmaster had asked himself this question thousands of times over the years. He still hadn't been able to find an answer. There was just some… urge he felt whenever the winged woman was near, pushing him to touch her, taste her…

A loud groan echoed around the room, long fingers combing violently through his hair.

"Mon dieu, what's wrong with me?! She's like a daughter to me, and I'm sitting here having such lascivious thoughts!"

He said this in hopes that the images in his mind would cease. It only served to drive them faster through his imagination. Elrick could picture Anya with him, against him, underneath him in the most intimate of ways. Her voice crying out his name in wild abandon as he took her for the first time-

"ENOUGH!"

"…Mast'r?"

Wild brown eyes met those of Greado, the squatty man taken aback by the sheer madness in that gaze. "Sir, you awright? Heard youse yellin's, I did. 'fought you may be a'troubled. You seem stress'd a bit aft'r the show, sir." His tone darkened slightly. "'S'that girl, innit? The young'un."

Silence met his observation, but that was all the goblin-esque man needed. A rattling chuckle left his lips, broken, yellowed teeth glinting in the firelight.

"You desire her, don'cha?"

Elrick didn't even flinch. He knew his henchman would realize what was going on quickly.

"…it's that obvious?"

Greado shook his head sadly, bits of dirt and grime flaking off from the movement. He had a large decanter in his hands, setting the liquor on a nearby end table. He uncorked the decanter, taking a glass from Elrick's drinking cabinet and filling it with liquor. He spoke the entire time.

"Sir, fo'give me if I'm steppin' bound'ries, but don'cha think you should fin' anudder? I mean, the chit's not e'en all righ' in the'ead, 'f you know wot I mean. Ain't the brightest candle in th'house, 'll tell you that."

As he handed the ringmaster his glass, the man's pale fingers grasped the cup, overlapping his crony's greyish hand. Slowly, his hold tightened, wide brown locking with shocked black.

"I will not tolerate any of your foul speech about my angel, Greado. Choose your next words wisely, or they may be your last."

Greado's face paled underneath the thick layers of grime that coated it. Surely he was joking? Hadn't the small man served Elrick well for the past fifteen years? Even when he brought back that little white maggot, he had stood by him. Nervous laughter escaped him.

"Heheh, g-good one, s-sir. Got me fair, you d-did."

But he knew by the ringmaster's glare he wasn't kidding. The pale man's lids narrowed, his pupils seeming to slit in the flickering light. The hold on the cup was choking, all blood flow into Greado's hand gone.

A whimper escaped him when the tall man finally let him go, taking the glass from his numb hand.

"I suppose you're right. Anya, though beautiful beyond compare, really is a bit of an airhead. It's better for me to seek higher-classed companionship."

Gone was the mad-eyed male from before. Elrick Avidite was back to his usual pompous self, much to his henchman's relief. He now stared into the fire once more, face impassive and blank. "Please, drink with me." A hand waved towards the cabinet, allowing Greado free access to his own cup.

Good, now maybe he's gotten foughts of that idjit tart outta his 'ead. The short man then poured his own glass, recapping the liquor and slugging his portion down fairly quickly.

He almost didn't hear his master call out to him.

"Oh, Greado?"

He turned, a stupid smile on his face. "Yes, sir?"

"What was that you said earlier? About Anya not being 'right in the head'? Please, elaborate for me."

He willingly obliged, another glass of alcohol loosening his tongue. "F'starters, the girl ain' e'en an angel. She's sum sorta bird-woman, I tells ya. She sings well enuf, b'that's about 's'far's that goes. And she's far too innocen'! You wanta woman that'll getcha roaring hard in a minute, then'll fuck ya senseless in less'n that!"

Greado tipped a bit, his drink sloshing over the edge of his cup.

Elrick nodded, seemingly deep in thought. "And is this from personal experience, my friend?"

"'Course it is! I can show ye all th' bes' whorehouses in Paris, sir! Speakin'f', why don'we go righ' now? Bet they're gettin' started soon!"

He waddled towards the door, his glass nearly forgotten in his haste to be buried between a woman's legs once more.

"I see." A pause.

"Oh, that reminds me, Greado. I need you to deliver something for me."

The short man turned, mind foggy with booze. "Wha'izzit si-?"

Bang!

Peering black orbs bulged as a burning pain surged through his leg. The glass was dropped, the rest of its contents spilling over the carpeted floor.

Elrick returned the pistol to his vest pocket, hiding it well beneath the thick material. He hadn't even turned to regard the wounded man, still seated facing the hearth. The sounds of the dwarf staggering about before finally collapsing onto the floor stirred no response from him. Even when Greado began to scream in agony he did not move.

"M-mast'r?! W-why didja dew 'at?!"

He finally rose from his seat, regarding the flailing freak.

"Deliver yourself to the medic, you foul pestilence. Perhaps next time you'll think twice about insulting my pride and joy to my face."

Once more, his eyes blazed with the fires of madness, a twisted grin working its way onto his face as terror wormed into the darkened orbs of Greado. The dwarf shuddered in pain and fear, watching the ringmaster with dread in his heart. Scrambling to his feet, the male hobbled out the door, wanting to escape the rest of the madman's ire.

Once the door to his trailer had closed behind the hobbling dwarf, Elrick loosened the ribbon in his hair, allowing the black strands to flow freely down his back. He moaned, running a hand through the crease the band had caused while regarding the flames before him.

Maybe he should have killed him instead…

Since the man had begun to work for him, Elrick had noticed a decrease in money intake, as well as numerous complaints from his patrons about thievery. He had suspected the squat male for a long time, but his commentary about the ringmaster's most prized act had caused him to revert to drastic measures.

"I didn't even get to warn him about what would happen should I actually catch him stealing… oh well…" The room now reeked of sweat and dirt, causing the taller man to wrinkle his nose in disgust. Had Greado never bathed in his life? Deciding to step out for some fresh air, Elrick slung his ringmaster's coat onto his shoulders before heading out the door.

There was no one about, besides the occasional rodent, so Elrick made his way easily. The dark covered him like a cloak, shielding him from the world.

After several minutes of trudging along, Elrick finally reached his destination.

He glanced up, the faded candlelight from Anya's window cascading over the planes of his face. A forlorn expression crossed his face, seeing his angel's silhouette pass in front of the light before it was extinguished.

God, how he lusted for her… She had to feel something for him, right? It wasn't possible for all that time to have passed without her growing some sort of attachment… Besides, he had been the one to save her from a life on the streets, being beaten and abused for scraps of food barely edible to the animals.

Admittedly, she was a few years his junior, and lacked experience. But he could make up for lost time easily, having waited so long in the first place. They would definitely take their time…

A long howl shook him from his thoughts, his gaze turning to the far end of the fairgrounds. Face falling into a mask of indifference, he walked until the owls were nearly deafening.

A small trailer outlined with thick silver stood before him. Chains criss-crossed over the entry, marking the portal as dangerous to anyone that came near it. This was the domain of the lycanthrope, the werewolf that the pale ringmaster had managed to snag by mere chance.

The caravan had been crossing the snowy mountains of Russia when they had come across a still body lying face-down in the snow. At the time, Anya had been allowed out of her trailer with close supervision by Elrick who, being at the head, was one of the first to see the beast.

Disregarding his warnings to stay back, the girl had made to check and see if the figure was still alive, only to be caught in the monster's embrace. The beast, half-dead, had gazed at her with bright eyes, snuffling her skin before… licking her…

The mongrel had been quickly subdued with silver shackles, afterwards being tossed into his specially made cage as the newest attraction…

Wanting to get a good look at his iloup/i, Elrick called one of the animal trainers from their tent to help feed the monster.

Soon, the body of a goat was dropped remorselessly to the ground while a pale hand delved into Elrick's vest for the master key. This unlocked the series of complicated deadbolts that held the prison together, enclosing the beast inside.

With a flick, the locks snapped open, allowing the chains to drape to the sides in heavy curtains. The door swung open easily after that, allowing Elrick to peer into the gloom through the thick bars across the doorframe.

A hunched form met his sight. The same tattered clothing as when he was first found covered his form, though the ribbons of cloth barely clothed him modestly. His hair was long and matted, once a pure white now faded into a dusky grey. Bright blue eyes peered at the hated man from his corner, and the werewolf growled. Large fangs bared and sharp claws scraped the sides of his cage, leaving more gouges in the wood.

Elrick merely chuckled at the sight, the trainer trembling behind him.

"Your anger does you no good, loup garou. You can't get out alone. But I decided to bring you a treat, since you did so well tonight~"

He dragged the slowly cooling corpse towards the entrance, gaining the werewolf's full attention at the sight. He panted like a dog, eyes locked on the carcass.

"Enjoy your meal, beast. It's fresh, the insides are nice and tender."

A dark chuckle roiled forth from the red-clad man as two clawed hands grasped at the chunk of flesh, tugging on a back and foreleg impatiently. Snarling, the monster yanked harder, severing the appendages completely in a geyser of blood. Muscle and bone fell beneath his powerful grip, wet tearing sounds emanating from within the trailer. Bits of hide were simply thrown aside, more bedding for the creature.

Elrick simply smiled, watching the feast with sick delight. He snorted at the barely concealed retching of the young trainer, eyes void of compassion. "When you work with monsters, boy, you must learn to get used to the sight of blood."

He turned to leave, only halting when the boy commented, "What about the angel, sir? Is she a monster?"

The teen barely had time to flinch before a large hand was wrapped about his windpipe, dark earthy eyes boring into his own. "She is of a much higher stock and quality than these inbred heathens. Do not make the mistake of lumping her in with them… or else that goat may not be the last thing the werewolf consumes this night."

Elrick flung away the boy, watching with sick delight as he cowered from him and ran for his tent. Was everyone so insistent on pushing his buttons?

He brushed off his coat, a small sneer on his face. "Really, people are so disrespectful… calling my Anya a monster… have they all gone mad?"

Mindful of the flying bits of refuse making their way through the cage bars, the slim male turned and trudged back the way he had come, unknowing of the four sets of eyes that watched him with varying emotions.

Okay, eheh, so I jumped WAY off track the last time… Greado isn't dead… though this gives us a peek at Elrick's madness. Which is steadily growing… huehuehue…

ANYWAYS! I am REALLY SORRY for my extended leave… life has a bad habit of licking you in the ass when you least expect it, so updates are… eh… gonna be rare. But I'm not finished yet! So please be patient and believe in me!