The Bloodlust by L. J. Smith Page A

me. “I’m sorry, Stefan,” she said, her voice cold. “Some people don’t like it here. They’re not comfortable. But somehow I thought you’d be different.”
    “No, it’s not that.” Even surrounded by these human curiosities, I was the biggest freak of them all: the vampire who pretended to be human. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind. I promise you, I like it here.”
    “Okay,” she said, not sounding quite convinced. But she continued to lead me farther into the grounds. We passed a two-headed cat, a sad-looking monkey playing “Old Tom Dooley” on a harmonica, and the skeleton of what a sign declared to be a sea monster. Some freaks milling around were obviously actors, wearing fabric tubes filled with straw to simulate extra limbs, while others had been born that way.
    “Come with me,” Callie said as she tugged on my arm. But I stayed. A black iron wagon rolled up to the tent, similar to the one Father had used to round up vampires during the Mystic Falls siege. It stopped, and the driver jumped from the cart. Immediately, five burly men rushed up with stakes. Once they were in place, the driver unlocked the back of the wagon. The scent of vervain wafted in the air, causing my joints to ache.
    Damon.
    “And there’s your vampire,” Callie said, her mouth set in a firm line as all five men dragged Damon from the back of the wagon. One burly man, his sweat-stained shirt rolled at the sleeves, kept a stake positioned firmly over his heart.
    “Gentle now, Jasper! We need him alive before the fight!” Callie called, her voice sharp. Damon turned, baring his teeth in our direction. I saw surprise in his eyes, which quickly turned into contempt.
    “ My little brother, the good Samaritan ,” he whispered under his breath, barely moving his jaw. Luckily, he said it low enough that only I heard.
    His voice sent a tremor through my body. Callie cocked her head, and I realized how risky it was for Damon and me to be in such close proximity. Would spite cause him to call me out as a fellow demon? “Are you sure I can’t help with the vampire?” I asked her.
    “You heard my father. We’ll start you at the ticket counter. And if anyone tries to sneak in, let Buck handle them,” she said, gesturing to the hulking man hovering several paces behind her like a distended shadow.
    A commotion sounded in front of the tent. Callie let out a whistle as we approached. The front flap was closed tight, and a mass of people had surrounded a wooden ticket booth. Some, dressed in tattered britches and with dirt-stained hands, were clearly from the shantytown surrounding the lake. But others were dressed in their finest: the men in top hats and silk smoking jackets, the women in feather-adorned hats and silk dresses, fur stoles draped around their bosoms.
    Callie turned to me, her eyes shining. “It’s never been so busy. Dad’s going to be so happy!” she said, clapping her hands together. “Now, go help Buck,” she commanded before running back around the tent.
    I stood in the wooden booth at the entrance, listening for Damon. But instead my ears filled with snatches of human conversation.
    “I’ve got a hundred dollars on the lion.”
    “No, the vampire. Monsters always win over beasts.”
    “I’ve told this pretty lady here that she owes me a kiss if the beast wins.” One man hiccupped, obviously drunk.
    I ground my teeth, wanting to lash out, to bite each and every one of them, to teach them a lesson. But I remembered Lexi’s words about revenge. Killing these men would not help Damon.
    A hand clapped my shoulder. I whirled around, ready to bare my teeth.
    It was Gallagher, his face flushed with excitement. “We have to hustle, son! The fight’s about to start, and the more we pack ’em in, the bigger the payday.” He hopped on an overturned apple crate standing just outside the entrance.
    “Step right up, folks! Welcome to my Odditorium! See the world’s ugliest woman, marvel at the world’s