of his beer bottle, glad to have a front row seat to this show.
The man was still dressed in antiquated garb. He let go of Cora’s hand, straightened his shoulders, and adjusted his ascot. Silly things, ascots. Simon was glad to have seen them go out of style. He had never liked the flouncy things. But perhaps that had spelled the downfall of modern fashion—the death of the ascot. He would see them return if it meant men would no longer stroll around in grubby jeans and a thin fabric shirt like they were god’s gift to women.
Let alone skinny jeans.
Fashion that should not exist on women, let alone on men.
He snapped back to focus on the moment.
Many people had stood from their seats, their hands over their mouths, looking at the man who had apparated into existence. And who, if they could imagine his face wearing a great deal of morbid greasepaint, looked startlingly familiar.
Lazarus, meanwhile—the Faire—was looking at them with an overwrought and emotional smile. “H…hello, all.”
Cora stepped closer to him and took his hand again. Lazarus looked down at her hand, as if surprised to find it there, and then looked at her with another weak, tentative smile.
It was so sweet it made Simon want to gag.
He washed the bile down his throat with a sip of beer. “Your food’s getting cold, Cora.” At his interruption, she rolled her eyes and glared back at him. He shrugged. “Well, it is.”
“Clown?” Aaron asked, taking a step closer. The Barker was always the brave one, even if it meant he usually lost his life over it. “Is that…you?”
“No. Well, not exactly.” Lazarus sighed. “When you all…fade away, you become part of me. Lazarus, which was his name, joined with me when he died and passed his connection to me on to Cora. Because she was familiar with him, and because you are all as well—I take this form to simplify how we might communicate. I have no body, no voice, no name. I simply am. This is just a…how shall I put it…”
“He’s a sock puppet,” Cora provided rather dryly. “Otherwise, our feeble little brains couldn’t handle his extra-dimensional mind-bending stupidity.”
Lazarus wrinkled up his nose and looked at Cora as if she had said the most offensive thing in the world. “Stupidity? I’ll have you know I have existed since the dawn of time, and—”
“Tell me all about it, man-eating murder-circus.” Cora finally let go of his hand to reach for her beer and sipped it. She grinned at the other man knowingly.
The creature masquerading as a man tugged on his overcoat, muttering under his breath. He looked out at the Family, and his indignant expression instantly turned into one of awe. Of love. He walked forward between the rows of picnic benches and startled expressions. When he stood alone in the middle of them, he beamed a resplendent, transcendent smile. Simon could not recall when he had seen a man look happier.
He’s not a man.
But for the first time, he gets to pretend to be one.
Why would anyone want to be something so pathetic as a mortal creature? There stands a creature that could have decimated the world—brought humanity to its knees—and it chose to be so very little. It makes no sense. It’s insulting. It’s wrong. It goes against everything I believe in.
Power should be wielded like a weapon. Used to crush those who stood in the way. Not whittled down, dulled, and crammed into a smaller container. Simon grimaced and sipped his beer again.
Rudy was the first person to react. The Zookeeper prowled forward, his head lowered, rakish red hair hanging over his eyes. His shoulders were raised, and he let out a low, feral growl. The sound was inhuman. He bared his teeth, his canines long and sharp. Not shocking, coming from the man who could change shape at will. But he slowly crept closer.
And Lazarus held his ground.
Rudy sniffed the air as he approached, inching closer to the phantom. He finally straightened when he stood within a foot of the other pseudo-man. Lazarus smiled and reached out a hand. Rudy jolted like a startled animal, widened his grimace, and snarled at Lazarus.
But like anyone wishing to befriend an animal, Lazarus kept his hand still and then moved closer. Rudy was not one to back down from a challenge. Simon watched as his fingers changed to sharp claws. If Lazarus was not careful, he was going to lose his face.
If his face was real.
Fascinating thought,