Luke on the Loose Read online

  Luke on the Loose

  A Mystic Caravan Mystery Short

  Amanda M. Lee

  WinchesterShaw Publications

  Copyright © 2019 by Amanda M. Lee

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. One

  2. Two

  3. Three

  4. Four

  5. Five

  6. Six

  7. Seven

  8. Eight

  9. Nine

  10. Ten

  Mailing List

  About the Author

  Books by Amanda M. Lee

  One

  “Ohio is the worst.”

  Nelson “Nellie” Adler leaned back in his chair and glared at the raging bonfire as the other workers at Mystic Caravan Circus buzzed about.

  He had a large stick in his hand and looked as if he was ready to smack somebody over the head with it. Because he usually carried an ax, that was a mild relief.

  “Ohio is the worst,” I agreed, stretching out my long legs and giving the crowd of milling bodies a cursory look. I didn’t see my best friend Poet Parker. That was unusual. There was nothing she loved more than a good bonfire. Of course, since hooking up with her love volcano Kade Denton, who just happened to be the boss’s son and a growing mage, she’d been more interested in him than me.

  I’m not bitter or anything. I’m just putting it out there. I, Luke Bishop, am not jealous of a guy with no stage presence. That’s simply not my style. There’s nothing to be jealous about.

  “Where is Poet?” Nixie, one of the pixie twins who shared magic booth duties, moved closer to me as she asked the question, her eyes scanning the darkness. Pixies aren’t normal on this plane. She and her sister Naida — also a Mystic Caravan employee — crossed over years ago (decades really) and settled with our magical circus before I was even out of high school. Of course, I didn’t finish high school. I had big dreams and they didn’t revolve around education.

  As a wolf shifter — yes, you heard that right, I turn into a wolf at will and it doesn’t matter if the moon is full — I wanted to get away from the pack rules my father so rigidly demanded I follow. I’m not a rule follower. I wanted to make my own way and I love being the center of attention. Plus, well, I knew at a young age that I was different. Being gay in the wolf world doesn’t exactly earn you accolades. If you can’t procreate and add to the furry ranks you’re considered a dead loss. I didn’t want to hang around and listen to the snide remarks that I was certain would follow my eventual outing.

  That meant getting away ... and even though I often wondered what my parents were doing (my father essentially shunned me when he found out I preferred men to women), I made a clean break when I joined the circus. Numerous other paranormal creatures — we’re talking lamia, shifters, mages, cross-dressing dwarves from other realms and pixies, just to name a few — were part of our entourage, so I always felt as if I belonged. That feeling only increased when Poet joined the group two years later. She got caught picking the boss’s pocket, but Max Anderson was a man who believed in second chances. Instead of turning her over to the police, he offered her a job. Ten years later, Poet is the second in command and basically runs the whole show.

  That doesn’t mean I’m not annoyed she isn’t around for me to play with. I’m not needy or anything — I’m not! — I simply prefer spending time with my friend when our schedules allow. That’s basically set-up days with the circus. We’d just arrived in Ohio during the afternoon rush hour, which meant we had several days to organize before guests started visiting. I was looking forward to the downtime after leaving Michigan, where we had two stressful stops in a row, but if I didn’t have a friend to play with I wouldn’t be happy.

  “I don’t know where she is.” I tried to keep the irritation from my voice. “She’s probably in her trailer with Captain Killjoy.”

  Nixie had been alive for more than a century, but looked eternally young. Pixies have long lifespans. She furrowed her brow as she looked toward the trailer in question, making herself look years older. “Who is Captain Killjoy? Did we get another new worker and nobody told me? I hate that.”

  I frowned. I loved her, but Nixie was often slow. I liked to blame it on coming from a different plane, but I wasn’t always certain that was true. “I’m talking about Kade.”

  “Oh.” She pursed her lips. “When did he change his name?”

  I couldn’t deal with this. Not tonight when I wanted to relax. “It’s an ongoing process,” I said blandly, doing my best to ignore the way Nellie grinned like a loon behind her back. He was dressed in one of his more laid-back gowns — no chiffon on moving days because it tends to rip during unpacking — and the beer in his hand told me he planned to make it a late night. I was fine with that. I liked a late night around the bonfire as much as the next person.

  “I like Kade better than Captain Killjoy, but I guess I don’t get a vote in it.” Nixie waved before taking off in the direction of her sister. There was no body of water near this campsite — which was enough to drive Naida batty because she needed to swim if she wanted to maintain her sanity — but they’d discovered a retention pond a few hours ago and they planned to head there for a late-night swim. I heard them talking during dinner preparations.

  “Do you ever wonder how she’s survived as long as she has?” Nellie asked as he sipped his beer and watched the exuberant pixie disappear into the night. “I’m serious. She’s the type who doesn’t remember to look both ways before crossing the road. The fact that she hasn’t been hit by a semi is miraculous.”

  I snickered as I reached over to the cooler he’d placed between us and grabbed a beer from the slushy ice. The mood of the group was surprisingly buoyant considering the heaviness of the last few weeks. It was possible — I didn’t know how likely, but certainly possible— that everyone was simply feeling the joy of leaving Detroit behind us. It felt like something more, though I couldn’t put my finger on it.

  “I’m just glad we’re away from the reapers and witches for a bit,” Dolph Smirnov, our resident strongman, said as he lowered his bulk into the open chair on the other side of me. He’d obviously been listening to our conversation but somehow I’d missed him ... which was impressive because he was six and a half feet tall and built like a brick wall.

  “I liked the witches.” Nellie took on a dreamy expression. “I could’ve done without the reapers.” He scowled at the memory. “Those reapers were mouthy.”

  “The witches were mouthy, too,” I reminded him.

  “Yeah, but they were fun mouthy.”

  “If you say so.”

  We lapsed into silence, our eyes busy as we watched our co-workers cavort. To the far right, Raven Marko, our lamia, flirted with her boyfriend Percival. He was a clown — and, no, that’s not a euphemism, because he really does dress up like a clown and perform — and apparently he enjoys wearing leather chaps when playing private games with Raven. I hadn’t seen that up close and personal, but Poet had and she was still traumatized by the sight.

  Behind us, I heard Nixie and Naida chattering away. They were making plans for the retention pond. There was talk of swimming nude. A few of the shifters to the left were listening hard to the discussion, but the pixie twins were either purposely ignoring them or too caught up in their own conversation to notice.

  To the back side of the fairgrounds where we settled — somewhere outside Akron, the most boring place in the Midwest — I heard the clo
wns and midway workers having another party. We tended to separate at night because most of the performers found the midway workers oily and almost everybody hated the clowns. The only clown we spent any time with was Percival, and that was only because Raven forced him on us.

  I cast my eyes toward Poet’s trailer. It was the newest model on the lot. Max, our leader and Kade’s estranged father, bought the trailer for them because he was trying to suck up to his son. It seemed to have worked, because Kade and Max were closer than ever — although that was partly because Kade had recently found out he was magical in origin and needed someone to show him the ropes — and the trailer was a big hit with my best friend and her time-sucking boyfriend.

  “Why are you glaring at that trailer?” Nixie asked, leaning closer to me. “Is there something hiding behind it?”

  “How would I know?” My agitation came out to play. “I can’t see through metal. No one but Superman can.”

  Nellie snorted. “Maybe Kade will be able to see through metal when all of his powers shake out. He’s growing stronger with each passing day. Before we know it, he’ll be the strongest one here.”

  That was not what I wanted to hear. “He’s not stronger than me.”

  Nellie cast me a sidelong look. “In what world is that true? He’s way stronger than you. You’re a shifter. All you can do is shift ... and scratch people to death. You don’t even play fetch when you’re in your wolf form. I know. I’ve tried tossing a ball for you to chase. You won’t bring it back.”

  “That’s because I’m not a dog.”

  “You’re kind of like a dog.”

  “I’m nothing like a dog!”

  “Geez. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.” His eyes flashed with annoyance. “It was just a general observation. There’s no need to get worked up.”

  I should’ve apologized for my outburst, but that’s not my way. “I’m going to take a walk.” I pushed myself out of the lawn chair and carried my beer with me as I struck out toward the fairground line. The magical security system, called a dreamcatcher by those who’d devised it – was already up. Nixie, Naida, Raven and Poet were responsible for it every time we moved so it was perfectly safe to wander around the countryside. Besides, we were in Akron. The only thing that could kill us here was boredom. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “Take your time,” Nellie called out. “Maybe you can walk off the PMS while you’re out there.”

  I growled deep in my throat but kept going. I didn’t stop until I was on the other side of trailer row. We purposely set up our trailers so they were end-to-end and formed a U shape surrounding three of the four sides of the circus. This was purposeful because the magical dreamcatcher served as a safety feature and a lure for evil creatures. They were drawn in by the dreamcatcher to cross the boundaries and then we dispatched them while the human public in the area remained none the wiser.

  At least that was the plan. Occasionally the plan turned to crap, but we dealt with that when it happened.

  Once I was on the other side of the trailers I made a big show of scuffing my foot against the ground for a full three minutes before heading toward Poet’s trailer. She wouldn’t be happy if she knew I was lurking outside, but that didn’t stop me from stomping directly to her window and peering in.

  I expected to find the room overstuffed with romance ... not that I’m a peeper or anything, just for the record. I simply assumed that’s why Kade and Poet disappeared when they did. Instead, the light was on and they were both reclining on the bed ... reading.

  “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” I viciously swore under my breath. The window was open, so Poet and Kade could hear me, and they turned in my direction.

  “What are you doing?” Poet asked, confused. She glanced down at her outfit — she probably was trying to remember if she was even dressed — and seemed relieved to find she was wearing knit shorts and a tank top.

  “What are you doing?” I challenged, moving closer to the window.

  She held up her e-reader. “I found a really good book on Norse mythology and a magic chick who fights evil. It’s by Linsey Hall. I really like it.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That sounds fascinating. It doesn’t explain why you’re not at the bonfire.”

  Her face was blank. “Was I supposed to be at the bonfire?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I get bored without you.” I recognized my tone was whiny and tried to push past it. “You’re supposed to be my best friend. If you’re not at the bonfire, that means I have to listen to Raven and Percival talk about gross clown stuff. You know I hate that.”

  Amusement lit Poet’s face as she pressed the power button on her e-reader and then moved closer to the window. For his part, Kade remained on the bed flipping through what looked to be a security magazine. Even his reading material was boring, for crying out loud. He needed to start reading erotica to up his street cred. You can’t be a sex symbol and not read erotica. I should know. I’m Mystic Caravan’s leading sex symbol. No, truly. It’s a real title.

  “Why are you outside our window?” Poet looked more amused than annoyed. “Are you hoping to see some action? We’re not playing that game until a little later.”

  “Don’t tell him that,” Kade barked. “He doesn’t need to know our private business.”

  I glared at his profile. “I don’t think that’s exactly private business. You can’t publicly grope one another and then claim you have private business.”

  Kade slowly lowered the magazine and glared at me. “When have I ever publicly groped her?”

  “Um ... by the grill right before dinner. You had your hand on her butt.”

  Instead of being offended, he snickered. “Oh. I didn’t realize you saw that. I’ll be better next time.”

  “It’s already too late.” I flicked my eyes back to Poet. “I think you should dump him and go back to spending all your time with me. I’ve given it a lot of thought and it’s what I want. In fact, I think it’s best for both of us.”

  She grinned as she hunkered down so we were eye to eye. “Are you feeling left out?” Her long black hair gleamed thanks to the overhead bedroom light. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been spending enough time with you. I promise to carve out a big chunk of it tomorrow. How does that sound?”

  It sounded like she was placating me, which was exactly what I wanted. “Okay. But I expect you to follow through. I think I might be having a mid-life crisis and I need to talk it through.”

  “You can’t be having a mid-life crisis. You’re not even thirty.”

  “Fine. I’m having a third-life crisis.” I tilted my head to the side, considering. “Is that a thing? I think it should be. I’m totally trademarking that term.”

  “We’ll talk about that tomorrow. For now, you should go. Kade will beat you up if you keep peeping through the window.”

  “I definitely will,” Kade agreed, his attention back on the magazine. “I’ll enjoy it, too.”

  “Oh, whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow, Poet.”

  “I’m looking forward to some bonding time,” she called out.

  That made two of us.

  I FELL INTO A RESTLESS SLEEP. I should’ve slumbered like the dead — not the literal dead, which is a distinction I feel I have to make because we deal with the undead and living dead regularly — but I tossed and turned.

  Still, I slept. I recognized that even as I was under. My dreams were convoluted, though. I heard whispering — and it was loud enough I wanted to wake, but my subconscious wouldn’t allow me to escape — and when I looked through the misty dreamscape I couldn’t find a source for the sound.

  My internal warning system alerted, telling me that something was wrong, and still I drifted. The whispering wouldn’t allow me to rest, but it was difficult to make out the words.

  Finally, and only when I slipped deeper into slumber, did I make out what was being said.

  Come to me.

 
; Listen to me.

  I’m here.

  Talk to me.

  I have something to tell you.

  I have something to show you.

  Don’t pull away.

  I am what you’ve been looking for.

  I was never one to believe in prophetic dreams — at least for me. Poet had prophetic dreams a time or two. I heard Max and her talking once and he said he had prophetic dreams when he was younger but learned to tune them out. In fact, prophetic dreams were one of the aspects they kept waiting for Kade to exhibit. He’d yet to manifest them, so there was every chance he wouldn’t be affected by the phenomenon.

  I was a shifter. Prophetic dreams weren’t part of the package. That meant my dreams should’ve been a hodgepodge of the day’s events ... like a normal person’s. The whispering was seductive. It was sensual. It was also not my thing. I was only into whispering when the voice was a baritone and accompanied by rippling muscles and impeccable fashion sense.

  This was something else.

  This was something different, potentially even dangerous.

  Still, I couldn’t wake. I tried, but it was a wasted effort. I finally gave up and continued floating. All I could do was wait ... and listen.

  Two

  I woke late and felt sluggish. I spent a good twenty minutes lying on my back and staring at the ceiling. Mornings were never a favorite part of my day, but being with the circus meant we had to be up with the sun.

  That wasn’t the case today.

  “Get up!” Poet let herself into my bedroom and hopped on the bed. She seemed happy, glowing even. Her skin was iridescent.

  “Ugh.” I pulled the pillow from beneath my head and pressed it to my face to block the light ... and her chirping. “You got some last night, didn’t you? I shouldn’t be surprised. You get some every night now and I hate you for it.”