The Ladies of the Secret Circus by Constance Sayers (ebook reader with internet browser TXT) 📗

made fun of me with my cats. That was us, as well. You were the one who couldn’t see it. And although they thought they painted us in our illusive forms, the painters and photographers captured us as we really were. Father couldn’t have them seeing those, so he’d erase the paintings and expose the film before morning. You claimed you wanted all the answers, but in the end you couldn’t even gaze upon yourself. You covered the mirror.” Marla searched Lara’s face for a glimmer of Cecile.

“And are you happy now?” Lara had tears in her eyes. The emotion was all Cecile. “You killed Émile Giroux, Desmond Bennett, Peter Beaumont, and Todd Sutton—tormenting my family for decades. I certainly have blamed myself for being sheltered. But I am not the one to blame here. You are angry at Father, not me. You’re a hundred years old and yet you continue on like some living waxwork seeking revenge. Or are you so warped by your hatred that you don’t see that it is Father you should be angry at? Tell me, when will it be enough? Does this really make you feel better? Or do you just hate yourself so badly that you hate me, too? We may be divided, but we are still one creature. Is it yourself you truly hate?”

Marla put her hand to her face. “I’m broken, Cecile. Nothing will ever make me feel better. And I was a child. What could I have done with my anger toward our father? We were children. But I’ve had a fabulous life—Rome, London, Los Angeles, Buenos Aires, Sydney. I’ve done the best that I could. After I killed Émile, a strange thing happened to me. I got stronger, but it was like a thirst for blood that I couldn’t quench. In Rome during the 1960s, I killed a man a night for thirty days. Now it’s only one every thirty years.”

As she listened to Marla’s story—Esmé’s story—Lara couldn’t help but pity the poor, motherless child she recalled from the photo. Esmé had been dealt a cruel hand, all Althacazur’s doing. Lara considered this to be one of the saddest stories she’d ever heard and her heart broke for that little girl.

Yet it was hard to reconcile that story with the woman standing before her. Like the many killers who were once victims themselves, at some point Esmé became the torturer. This woman had killed Lara’s fiancé and her father, and despite the pity she felt for her now, Lara knew she would kill everyone here today unless she stopped her.

Just then, Lara saw Marla look beyond her. She turned to see Audrey coming through the gate.

“Mother,” said Lara, alarmed. “How are you here?”

“I had a feeling,” said Audrey.

Marla sighed deeply. “Not you, too. So you’re all now doing his dirty work for him. I warn you all: I’m not going back there.” She leaned against her shovel. “I’ll admit, I’m surprised he managed to wrangle you, of all people, Audrey.”

Audrey’s mouth was drawn tight. “I never wanted any of this.”

“Well, that makes two of us,” said Marla. “Audrey, I’ve offered your daughter the opportunity to turn around and leave. I won’t come back to Kerrigan Falls.”

Audrey snorted. “No one would be foolish enough to believe you.”

“Well then, since you two are still under your little protection spell, I can’t touch either of you. But that doesn’t apply to him.” Marla turned to Ben and moved to swing the shovel at his head. With a flick of her hand, Lara sent the shovel flying. Marla turned to her and smiled. “It seems you do have some skills. He’s outfitted you well.”

Lara’d had no idea that she had skills other than flying. She was drawing on pure emotion.

Marla spun around toward them, wiping sweat with her arm. “Remove the protection spell and I won’t kill him in front of you.”

When neither Audrey nor Lara answered, Marla shrugged. “Okay then, it’s your choice.” She didn’t even move a muscle. Ben doubled over in pain as though his insides were burning.

“Mother.” Lara turned to Audrey. “Remove it.”

“No.” Audrey turned to Ben. “I’m sorry, but I can’t risk it.”

Ben nodded as he writhed in pain.

“Remove the spell, Mother.” Lara’s body had merged with Cecile’s mind fully now, the two of them sharing power. She had never felt stronger. “Mother,” commanded Lara. “Remove the fucking spell.”

“Are you sure?”

“This ends today. One way or the other.”

Audrey lowered her head and began to chant quietly.

“That’s more like it,” said Marla.

Marla turned toward Audrey, and Lara’s mother doubled over in pain. Lara felt the fury well up inside of her. Marla then turned to Ben, who was now on his hands and knees writhing in pain.

“No!” Lara put her hand out, and Marla went flying backward. Lara had seen the pitchfork leaning against the wall. She began thinking about the pitchfork rotating seconds before Marla’s back hit the wall, the tines turning and sliding through her body, coming out through the woman’s chest. For just a moment, it looked as though the act hadn’t hurt her at all, because she gazed down at the tines, as if inspecting a stain on her shirt. Then her chestnut hair fell forward and Marla slumped over like a doll.

Lara let out a breath she’d been holding.

Within moments of slumping over, Marla shook herself and stood up, the pitchfork teeth still visible through her ribs.

Lara felt the air go out of her and struggled to breathe, as if someone was gripping her throat. Someone was gripping her throat. Esmé was strangling her, using the same magic she’d employed. As the world began to slip out of focus, Lara could hear Audrey screaming. Then a rattle at the gate diverted Marla’s attention and Lara got a moment’s reprieve. She breathed, the air hitting the back of her throat, then slumped to the ground, wheezing and grabbing her neck.

“Are you okay?” Audrey was at her side.

Marla backed up as Oddjob and Moneypenny walked into