Callie turned to me, her eyes shining. "Its never been so busy. Dads going to be so happy!" she said, clapping her hands together. "Now, go help Buck," she commanded before running back around the tent.
I stood in the wooden booth at the entrance, listening for Damon. But instead my ears filled with snatches of human conversation.
"Ive got a hundred dollars on the lion."
"No, the vampire. Monsters always win over beasts."
"Ive told this pretty lady here that she owes me a kiss if the beast wins." One man hiccupped, obviously drunk.
I ground my teeth, wanting to lash out, to bite each and every one of them, to teach them a lesson. But I remembered Lexis words about revenge. Killing these men would not help Damon.
A hand clapped my shoulder. I whirled around, ready to bare my teeth.
It was Gallagher, his face flushed with excitement. "We have to hustle, son! The fights about to start, and the more we pack em in, the bigger the payday." He hopped on an overturned apple crate standing just outside the entrance.
"Step right up, folks! Welcome to my Odditorium! See the worlds ugliest woman, marvel at the worlds strongest man! But thats just the warm-up act. Because tonight, we have a battle royale, the likes of which have never been seen. Monster versus Beast. Who will win? And who wants to bet? Because this is one death that will lead to riches for some." The crowd pressed in more tightly around me, swarming like a mass of hungry insects.
Gallagher grinned at me. "Get em in, and get em bidding."
And so I held out my hand, collecting their coins and orange stubs of paper, all the while resisting the urge to reach out and snap their necks, as easily as I would a twig branch, and drink the liquid within.
Chapter 18
As soon as Id taken every last ticket and accepted every last dollar, I slipped into the tent behind an overweight man clutching a sweaty wad of Confederate notes in each fist. The air was thick with the stench of sweat, sawdust, and, of course, blood.
People were milling around us, paying extra money to gawk at the Strongman and the Tattooed Lady, all of whom were hidden behind thick black curtains at various intervals along the perimeter of the tent. But the majority of the crowd was clamoring around Jasper. Large wagers were being placed, with lots of shouting and hand signals and stacks of greasy notes being passed back and forth. Jasper gleefully chomped on his soggy cigar and laughed.
Sailors yanked foreign bills from their billfolds. A few teenagers pooled their coins. Well-dressed men in ties waved gold coins.
"Fight, fight, fight!" one red-faced man began yelling. Instantly, the people standing by him began to chant as well. Three well-dressed women, their hair in curls atop their heads, glanced at each other, giggled, and echoed the cheer, their alto voices contrasting with the mens baritone ones.
Gallagher strode into the tent, his cane tapping a path through the sawdust. People turned and craned their necks to catch a glimpse of him; in the circus tent, he was just as much an attraction as the freaks. After all, this was the man whod caught a vampire.
Be strong, brother, I whispered under my breath, remembering all the times Damon had won fights back in Mystic Falls. Damon had never provoked those battles but had always been a good fighter, always landing a punch fast when a fight broke out. Thats why hed been so respected in the army. But now, in a battle against a mountain lion, especially after not feeding for days I shuddered.
"Brother?" I whispered tentatively, at a decibel I knew only his ears could detect. I was hoping for some sort of reply, even though I wasnt sure whether he could have actually heard me. If he did, he said nothing in response.
"And now, lets introduce our fighters!" Gallaghers voice broke through my reverie. Two animal handlers, their hands in leather gloves and wearing boots that came up past their knees, walked into the ring, leading a mangy mountain lion. The mountain lion had a grayish-yellowish coat and yellow teeth, and, despite its lean body, looked brutal. And hungry. As if on cue, it uttered a roar.
"In one end of your ring, you have the mountain lion. But this is no ordinary cat. This beast is the Alberta Avenger! He came down from Canada to find the hunter that killed his mate. He eviscerated the hunter, his wife, and all of his children except the youngest, whose legs the lion ate before leaving the rest of him alive to tell the story. Since then, you have followed the mountain lion in the newspapers as it has feasted its way on innocents in the Union and Confederacy without prejudice. Tonight, it is here only after we captured it trying to stow away on a boat bound for the Andes Mountains in South America. The mountain lion, ladies and gentlemen!" Gallagher yelled, his showmanship on full display.
The crowd dutifully applauded enthusiastically, and some even cheered.
"Its opponent is a legendary vampire that has been terrifying children and their parents for centuries. Viktor the Cruel was born in 1589 and was heir to the Hapsburg Empire until he first tasted blood--his sisters--and began a three-hundred-year feeding frenzy that has left a trail of drained bodies around the world. At an estimated two victims per day, this brings Viktors kills to one and a half million people, more than double the size of Italy. This unstoppable lust for blood continues tonight."
The applause was more nervous now, but the cheers were louder.
Gallagher spread his hands apart with a flourish, and Damon came into the ring, surrounded by four handlers. His hands and feet were in chains, and his face was partially hidden by a muzzle. His skin was bleeding from the vervain, his eyes were bloodshot, and the expression on his face was one Id never seen.
I could understand the hatred he felt--I was fighting every instinct I had not to kill the people holding him captive. But his imprisonment had changed him. Damon had called me a cold-blooded killer. The look in Damons eyes was not one of sport, or survival. It was pure bloodlust.