Read Online Circus of the Damned by Laurell K. Hamilton - Free Book Online

if he were talking about taming a horse.
    â€œDamn you.” I pulled my gun. I held it two-handed in a teacup grip. Nobody was taming me tonight.
    Out of the corner of my eye I saw someone stand up on the other side of the bed. The man was still under the covers. It was a slender woman, her skin the color of coffee with cream. Her black hair was cut very close to her head. She was naked. Where the hell had she come from?
    Yasmeen was about a yard from me, tongue playing over her lips, fangs glistening in the overhead light.
    â€œI’ll kill you, do you understand that, I’ll kill you,” I said.
    â€œYou’ll try.”
    â€œFun and games aren’t worth dying for,” I said.
    â€œAfter a few hundred years, that’s all that is worth dying for.”
    â€œJean-Claude, unless you want to lose her, call her off!” My voice was higher than I wanted it to be, afraid.
    At this range the bullet should take out her entire chest. If it worked, there would be no resurrecting her as the undead; her heart would be gone. Of course, she was over five hundred years old. One shot might not do it. Lucky I had more than one bullet.
    I caught movement from the corner of my eye. I was half-turned towards it when something flattened me to the ground. The black woman was on top of me. I brought the gun around to fire, not giving a damn if she was human or not. But her hand grabbed my wrists, squeezing. She was going to crush my wrists.
    She snarled in my face, all teeth and a low growl. The sound should have had fur around it and pointy teeth. Human faces weren’t supposed to look that way.
    The woman jerked the Browning out of my hands like taking candy from a baby. She held it wrong, like she didn’t know which end of the gun went where.
    An arm came around her waist and pulled her backwards off me. It was the man on the bed. The woman turned on him, snarling.
    Yasmeen leapt for me. I scooted backwards, putting the wall at my back. She smiled. “Not so tough without your weapon, are you?”
    She was suddenly kneeling in front of me. I hadn’t seen her come, not even a blur of motion. She appeared beside me like magic.
    She had her body up against my knees, pinning me to the wall. Yasmeen dug her fingers into my upper arms and jerked me towards her. Her strength was incredible. She made the black shapeshifter seem fragile.
    â€œYasmeen, no!” It was Jean-Claude coming to my aid at last. But he was going to be too late. Yasmeen bared her teeth, raised her neck back for the strike, and I couldn’t do a damn thing.
    She pulled me in tight against her, arms locked behind my back. If I’d been pressed any tighter I’d have come out on the other side.
    I screamed, “Jean-Claude!”
    Heat; something was burning inside my sweater, over my heart. Yasmeen hesitated. I felt her whole body shudder. What the hell was happening?
    A tongue of blue-white flame curled up between us. I screamed and Yasmeen echoed it. We screamed together as we burned.
    She fell away from me. Blue-white flame crawled over her shirt. Flames licked around a hole in my sweater. I shrugged out of the shoulder holster and pulled the burning sweater off.
    My cross still burned with an intense blue-white flame. I jerked the chain and it snapped. I dropped the cross to the carpet, where the flames smoldered, then died.
    There was a perfect cross-shaped burn on my chest, just above my breast, over the beat of my heart. The burn was covered in blisters already. A second-degree burn.
    Yasmeen had ripped her own blouse off. She had an identical burn, but lower down between her breasts because she was taller than I was.
    I knelt on the floor in just my bra and jeans. Tears were trailing down my face. I had a bigger cross-shaped burn scar on my left forearm. A vampire’s human followers had branded me, thinking it was funny. They’d laughed right up to the minute I killed them.
    A burn is a bitch. Inch for