Midnight Wolf (Shifters Unbound #11)(63)

The audience applauded. Madame Butterfly and the wolf moved around the stage area, with her holding the rings at varying heights or closer to or farther from each other. When she started throwing and catching the rings with perfect juggler’s ease, Angus’s breath caught. Caught again when Ciaran leapt through the rings, timing himself exactly right to go through without a hitch.

Angus exhaled when Ciaran landed, a smug look on his wolf face. The crowd loved him, cheering, clapping, and whistling.

Madame Butterfly brought out other obstacles from the wings—hollow tubes Ciaran could run through or jump on, balls she and Ciaran bounced to each other. The audience couldn’t get enough of the cute and clever little dog.

Two lanky men ran out from the wings and quickly set up a sort of balance beam consisting of a very, very thin round bar that hung about three feet off the ground.

Angus nearly stormed out and grabbed Ciaran before he could jump up on the contraption, but Ciaran merely ran under it while Madame Butterfly jumped lightly to the bar and started to walk across it. She moved with amazing agility, as though she barely noted how narrow the bar was.

Angus’s lips parted as he watched. He knew Tamsin was as light-footed as her fox, but he never dreamed she could balance like that—

“Enjoying the show?”

“Shit!” Angus’s bellow was drowned out by the crowd’s enthusiasm as Ciaran began leaping through hoops the balancing Madame Butterfly held up.

Angus swung around to find Tamsin next to him, in dark jeans and black shirt, her hair in a braid, a dark baseball cap on her head. He stared at her, jerked his attention to the act onstage, and swiveled back to her.

“Tamsin, what the fuck? I thought that was you.” He pointed accusingly at Madame Butterfly.

Tamsin gazed at the glittering woman, feigning surprise. “Me? No, that’s Celene. She’s far more graceful than I could ever be. She’s done this kind of thing before, and thought it was a great idea. That’s how she and Dante met. She used to be a tightrope walker.”

“Son of a bitch, Tamsin.”

Celene danced lightly along the bar, juggling hoops, which Ciaran leapt through, back and forth.

Tamsin laced her arm through his. “You didn’t think I would actually perform, did you? Someone might recognize me, even dressed up. Everyone knows Celene. And they think Ciaran’s a dog.”

Angus’s heart thumped. His rage surged, though he didn’t know why he should be angry. Tamsin had done the smart thing and not exposed herself.

No, he did know. She was a shit. She’d deliberately let him worry that she was doing something stupid when she’d planned all along to work behind the scenes.

Tamsin’s grin told him she knew exactly what thoughts spun in his head.

“How is this earning your keep?” he demanded. “Or are you hiring out Ciaran, like he really is an animal?”

She looked indignant. “I’d never do that. No, I’m their trainer.”

“Shit, Tamsin.”

Tamsin’s musical laughter filled him with warmth. Her heat as she pulled herself closer threatened to burn him up.

The audience loved Ciaran. They oohed and aahed as Ciaran leapt and spun, laughed when he ran in circles, his tail wagging. At last, Celene jumped down from the balance bar, held out her arms, and caught Ciaran as he leapt into them.

Everyone cheered and applauded as Celene let Ciaran spring down. They did a lap together and then ran off into the shadows.

The lights on the stage lowered, and loud music came on, encouraging the audience to leave their seats. They went, talking excitedly about the show.

Angus strode behind the curtain to the other side of the wings. Ciaran was already in boy form, pulling on a pair of sweatpants. He was out of breath, flushed, and starry-eyed.

He leapt to his feet as Angus approached. “Did you see me, Dad? Did you like it?”

Celene had removed her butterfly mask. Close up, Angus saw that while she had the same height as Tamsin, her build was much slenderer, since she had the long, thin bones of the Fae.

“He’s a natural.” Celene beamed at Ciaran. “Don’t be angry, Angus. I did say we should ask you first, but Tamsin assured me it would be all right.”

“Oh, I know exactly who to blame.” Angus drew a breath, ready to send Ciaran home and forbid him to perform again. Ciaran caught his look, and all the joy went out of him. His head drooped, and he looked away quickly so Angus wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes.

This was special to him, Angus realized. Ciaran really had done well—he was agile and strong, and grew more so every day.

Angus let out the breath in a conceding sigh. “All right, Ciaran, as long as you don’t do too many shows and are in bed before ten. And it’s not forever. Just for now—all right?”

Ciaran brightened, then looked downcast, then brightened again. “Only two shows a night, Dad. And they’re short. But it’s easy for me. All I have to do is jump around like I always do. Celene holds the rings so I make it every time. She’s really good at it.”

“Nothing too difficult or too risky,” Angus said, trying to sound like a stern parent.

“Don’t worry—we rehearsed this,” Tamsin said. “Celene knows what she’s doing. Ciaran’s safety is the most important thing.”

“It had better be.” Angus scowled. “I’ll be right here every show to make sure.”