The Nightingale Circus by Ioana Visan

wasn’t part of the deal … but
I can offer you one.”
    “A job?” Anya stared at him then her eyes
narrowed. “At the circus?”
    “Yes, at The Nightingale Circus.”
    “That’s insane.” What could she do at the
circus? They toured cities all over Europe and part of Asia, too,
but it was the wrong type of audience. She’d seen a couple of shows
during her brief recovery. There was nothing for her to do
there.
    “Maybe … but you’ll have the floor all to
yourself in front of thousands of people. Isn’t that what you
want?”
    Was it? Anya shook her head. “Not like this.
They won’t appreciate it.”
    “If you’re this good, make them.”
    Anya’s back stiffened. Was this a challenge?
What did she have to lose? “What are you offering?”
    “Two numbers per show, one of your choice and
one designed in collaboration with me. A fair share of the profits.
Second headline right after The Nightingale.”
    “I would require a whole train car. I’m not
sharing.” Anya pointed her chin up.
    Big Dino hesitated, but his eyes gleamed with
amusement. “That can be arranged.”
    “And my expenses covered for new costumes at
my own convenience.”
    “Done.” Big Dino held out his hand. “Do we
have a deal?”
    Anya couldn’t decide which one of them was
crazier, him for offering or her for slipping her hand into his
large palm. “Deal.”
    Big Dino grinned, showing strong yellow teeth
behind his dark lips. “Welcome aboard, Miss Semenova.”
    Anya’s shoulders dropped, defeated, and she
muttered with a sigh, “I guess you can call me Anya…”
     
    * * *
     
    At the end of the week, when The Nightingale
Circus left St. Petersburg, Anya dragged Serioja into her brand new
car and didn’t let him leave until the train stopped again in
another town. If she couldn’t be happy, she could at least make him
happy. Serioja didn’t mind.

The
Firebird

    Strange crowd in the club tonight .
Riella arched her body and swung around the pole in time with the
music. Lights flashed, making her tiny costume glitter in the hazy
atmosphere. She was used to clients staring at her with drool
hanging from the corners of their mouths.
After all, that was what she was here for, to entertain their
wildest fantasies. But this group was different.
    The two bulky men covered in scars kept
grinning at her. Still, they ordered more drinks each time they
raised their hands instead of trying to initiate a dialogue over
the loud music. The dark-haired man seated next to them, wearing
gloves and a tailcoat, stared into his glass, running his finger
along the rim. The blue flames dancing around his hand had to be a
reflection of the lights. Only the fourth guy, with sandy blond
hair and packing more muscles than the man in the coat, watched her
with bovine eyes.
    Riella wrinkled her nose and leaned back. The
quartet from hell scared everyone off. No other customer dared
approach the edge of her round stage. So no big tips for her
tonight. She didn’t mind a quiet night when all she had to do was
dance, but she did miss the money. If it continued like this, she
would be stuck in this hellhole forever and never enter Sofia’s
upper circles.
    Her colleague, also a redhead, but with
shorter, darker hair, danced on a nearby platform. She already had
her bra stuffed with bills, and it wasn't even midnight yet. Riella
glared at her picky admirers, her hands not leaving the shiny pole.
She climbed on it with the sheer force of her arms, legs wrapped
around the cold metal as if it were a lover, then let herself slide
upside down fast until the top of her head came close to the
platform.
    A cough came from the back while the men in
the front row gave her appreciative glances, but that was all. No
claps, no whistles, no nothing. They hadn’t come for the show she
put on. Her languorous, sexy moves didn’t affect them at all. Then
why were they here?
    Her boss frowned at her from behind the
curtain and shook his head. This was a respectable