his bones if he’d had the time.
But he had a show to perform.
And it had gone off without a hitch.
Ringmaster had been powerful in a fight. It would have been easy enough for him to overpower any one of them on their own. It was a gamble having a vote without him backed into a corner. It was a question as to whether he could be defeated, even with Simon, Rudy, and Cora working together. Who knew who else would fight with Turk?
Simon hadn’t wanted to take that risk.
Therefore, he only had one option—convince the king to checkmate himself. And like the bloated fool that he was, Turk willingly put himself in a situation where he was vulnerable, and his guard was down.
No one should trust me. Ever. Least of all you, you fat fuck, wherever you are now.
He had not known what to expect from Cora when she learned the truth. Would she kill him? Would she refuse to ever see him again? Reject him? Denounce her love? He had given her the chance to prove him right. In that moment, when the lie was still truth, he had asked her for her love.
And she had given it.
He didn’t deserve her. He knew it. But when did anything ever stop him from taking what he didn’t earn and keeping it? He was a covetous creature. And Cora Glass was his.
And he would burn down the world to protect her.
Cora had no idea what to expect when she dressed and went to lunch with Simon the next day. She had slept straight through breakfast.
Simon had made a crack about how she must not be hungry after eating all of Ringmaster.
She slapped him in the chest for that one.
How many people would still be there? How many would have left in the night, choosing death over Harrow Faire?
“Why so quiet?” Simon tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Cheer up. Today’s a good day.”
She shook her head. “I just can’t believe it’s over.”
“Oh, darling. It’s not over. It’s only just begun.”
“For once, he’s not wrong.” Lazarus appeared at her other side.
“Gah!” Simon jumped nearly a foot in the air then growled at the phantom of Clown. “Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, I despise when you do that. Will you not learn to come and go as a normal person?”
“No. Don’t think I will.” Lazarus grinned at Simon then looked at Cora, his brow furrowing in concern. “How are you?”
“All right. Overwhelmed. But when haven’t I been overwhelmed?” She laughed dryly. “You fuckers like to pile shit on.”
“No, we don’t.” Simon did his best to look indignant.
“We kind of do.” Laz smirked.
“I suppose so.” The Puppeteer shrugged.
“Mind if I…uh…join you?” Laz cringed. “For lunch?”
Cora laughed at how damn sheepish he was being. “Not at all.”
As the three of them walked into the tent, she didn’t know what to expect. The vote had been almost tied. Who knew how many of them were gone now?
The tent went quiet. She did a quick scan and found only one person missing. Correction—two. The Twins. Lauren and Phil. She smiled sadly. “I’m not surprised they’re gone.”
“They left a note,” Lazarus said quietly. “In their boxcar. They hoped you didn’t take it personally. But they were done suffering.”
She nodded. “I—”
She broke off. Everyone was getting to their feet. She froze as they all approached her. Simon took her hand, and she felt him go stiff at her side. Even Lazarus looked nervous. As the crowd formed in front of her, Aaron stepped forward.
Were they going to fight her? Rise against her? Denounce what she’d done and demand she destroy Harrow Faire? Her heart pounded in her chest. The seconds ticked like hours.
Aaron smiled that lopsided grin of his. “Where to, boss?”
The last truck was packed. Trains weren’t really the best mode of travel since modern highways had been invented. She stood by the door of the lead truck, looking down the line behind her. Boxcars had been exchanged for vehicles, but that didn’t mean they looked modern by any means.
Harrow Faire’s vintage vibe was too much fun to give up.
Jack would have loved these cars. They looked new, despite their round headlights and bright chrome details. The sides of the trucks loudly advertised Harrow Faire and the acts and creatures within. There were more trucks than they had people to drive them, but she supposed that was where commanding an army of just-above-minimum-wage ghost-employees came in handy.
At least they can’t ever strike.
Do ghosts have