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Anya hated the
butterfly act, and for good reason. While Nicholas didn’t care one
way or the other, saying “no” would make Anya insist on showing her
gratitude, and that was not the kind of complication he needed. So
far, he’d managed not to form any attachments inside the circus, so
he could disappear without leaving anyone heartbroken. Pleasing
Anya and letting her thank him in return came too close to changing
that. But then again, Anya didn’t offer anyone else that kind of
thanks.
    “Yes,” he said. “It’s a hit with the crowd
everywhere we go. It will be one of the highlights of the show
here, as well.”
    “Yeah, I bet it will be,” she muttered with
a glare. “They’ll all want front seats to watch the horror.”
    Nicholas deemed it wise not to comment on
that. Anya’s grip on his arm had tightened.
    “Everything I do after that loses its
value,” she said. “They don’t see me as a human being anymore. All
they see is tubes, circuits, and wires. And it’s not fair. These—”
Anya pointed at her legs, “—are real. I work hard at it, harder
than I would have to otherwise, and no one appreciates it.”
    She was right. This was the type of
reaction she was getting, and for an artist, it was heartbreaking
and demoralizing. Nicholas, who was basically a fraud, wouldn’t
have cared. It didn’t mean he didn’t understand her frustration,
though. His arm slid around Anya’s slender waist, and he pulled her
towards him in a comforting hug.
    “Are you sure I can’t change your mind?”
Anya played with his necktie. “When can I stop by your car, Mr. Art
Director?” she asked with a playful smile. “I’m free every
night.”
    Now would have been a good answer,
but Nicholas held his ground. “Fine, you can do the ballet number
first.” He brushed his lips against her temple. Okay, it was shaky
ground.
    “Really?”
    Her eyes shone with happiness. No way could
he take the words back now, but he didn’t plan to.
    “Yes. They’ll feel cheated when it’s over,
but who cares? It’s one show. And we can have an animal number in
the first act for comic relief.”
    “Thank you.” Anya pressed her lips against
his cheek and let them linger there.
    When she pulled back and returned his coat
with a victorious smile, Nicholas knew he’d been had. She had never
planned to drop out of the show. She’d obtained exactly what she
wanted. Still, it was nice to see her smile.
    “I’ll let you give them the good news,” she
said, nodding towards the car they were approaching and patting his
shoulder lightly. “Don’t let them grill you too hard!”
    Anya winked and sauntered away while
Nicholas veered to the left, shaking his head at the thought that,
although he was closer to his forties than thirties, he was still
sensitive to pretty ballerinas with cute dimples. Well, maybe not
just any ballerina …
     

9

    The screech of metal being cut came out
through the open door, along with dark clouds of smoke as Nicholas
walked up the steps. Bent over a long workbench, Rake and Spinner
molded a delicate piece of machinery. Their “factory”, a hybrid
between a laboratory and a hardware store, smelled of
coagulants.
    The fans worked overtime and still couldn’t
keep up with the smoke coming out of Rocket Girl’s robo-suit. She
paced behind the knife throwers, the helmet preventing her from
suffocating. With her face covered, she looked rather scary, hidden
inside the two-ton walking bot that towered over everyone else in
the car.
    “Take a mask.” Spinner gestured at a shelf
near the entrance. “Fei Lin busted a few wires while practicing her
jumps.”
    Nicholas pressed a square filter tissue over
his nose and mouth. Fei Lin’s determination to improve her already
outstanding act and earn her keep often ended up with some kind of
malfunction—solid proof of why the robot had been abandoned.
Despite Rake’s and Spinner’s efforts, they managed to only
partially salvage it each time.
    “How