The Faire (Harrow Faire #5) - Kathryn Ann Kingsley Page 0,93

themselves for once.

Anastasia already had to be put on an allowance. The woman wouldn’t stop complaining about the “travesty of modern fashion” and yet felt the overwhelming need to buy it all. Apparently, Sephora was still a thing, and Anastasia’s discovery of it was the moment Cora was glad they didn’t have credit cards. But Elena and the Diva finally had something to bond over.

“Have you seen Bruce?” Aaron asked as he walked up, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Oh, sorry. What did I interrupt that was going on up in there?” He gestured at her head.

“Nothing much. Just the usual. Wondering what the fuck I’ve done with my life.” She patted the stage next to her. Aaron sat down and smiled, the lightbulbs making his overly pomaded dome of hair shine. Few people updated their wardrobes. Even Anastasia only wore her new clothing from time to time. She understood. It was a part of their personalities. And that was all they had in the end, wasn’t it? “As for Bruce? I saw him come in here about an hour ago with three ladies.”

“Three?” Aaron whined. “Bastard! Trying to beat me. I know he’s cheating at this contest. I’m sure he’s paying them.”

“Beat you in what? No, no, on second thought”—she waved her hands—“I really don’t want to know.”

“Well, you see, he said that he could get more—”

“I said no!” She laughed and shoved Aaron, who was grinning at his own antics. “Anyway. I’m betting he’s distracted right now.”

“Well, I think I’m going to interrupt his little bit of fun. I came over here to tell you that I think we might have a new Strongman. And it’s his turn to play Sponsor.”

“That’s why I’m sitting here.” Cora smirked. When Aaron looked confused, she tapped her forehead.

“Ah. Right. Yes. Linked to the Faire and all.” He made a face. “Must be terribly uncomfortable.”

“No more than the plastic bucket you wear for hair.”

He let out a loud laugh and, shaking his head, patted her on the shoulder. “Well done, Cora. Well done. All right. Well, I’ll go get Bruce. You do…whatever it is you’re going to do.” He paused. “What’re you going to do, anyway? Drag the new Strongman off? Knock him unconscious? Get Simon to string him up?”

“I’m going to ask him if he wants to join the Family, Aaron.” She reached out her hand. “Flask.”

Aaron fished his flask out of his pocket and handed it to her. She uncorked it, took a sip, wheezed, and nodded. Yup. That would do. She rubbed her eyes. His ‘shine always made her eyes water. “Thanks, Aaron.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” He shook his head and walked away, muttering about Bruce’s cheating tactics.

She swirled the liquid in the flask and waited. She waited for Peter.

Peter loved strong alcohol. Or at least, so Harrow Faire learned when it took the memory of one particular drink the big man had had at one particular bar, in the middle of several other drinks, that one time in Arizona several years ago. The memory was nothing more important than a tiny strand of hair.

Just like the tiny strand of hair it took from everyone who walked through its gates. The Dark Path had been disassembled and thrown out. There wasn’t a need for it anymore.

Harrow Faire was fed. It was happy.

And so was the Family it loved so much.

Because of that…it didn’t have to steal big pieces of seity. It took the scraps that were so tiny, so insignificant, that nobody would ever possibly miss them.

But more importantly, it no longer needed to steal whole people. She saw to that. It made filling the empty slots in the Family a slower process, but they had all the time in the world now, didn’t they?

She watched as a mountain of a man walked down the path. He was alone. He was looking down at his feet, not up at the world around him. The guy was clearly a bodybuilder. He was heavily tanned and had muscles in places that probably made it hard to do basic functions like touching his elbows to his sides.

Women gawked at him. He was extremely attractive, in that should-be-on-the-cover-of-one-of-Bertha’s-favorite-books kind of way. Abs, cut jaw, short hair, perfect nose. Perfect lips.

He also looked perfectly miserable.

And she knew he was.

“His girlfriend cheated on him with his best friend. He has the engagement ring in his pocket. Spent his last dime on it because he was waiting to get that acting job he