Kinky's Carnival Book 3
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M. L. Smith
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308K
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20
Chapter 1
Book 3: Cleo Comes Home
Cleo stared down at the golden business card on the ground in equal parts shock and disbelief, wondering if she was going absolutely crazy or if what she was seeing was real. The card had just materialized out of thin air, dropping onto her tiled entryway with a clatter as she’d been crying, wishing she could go back to Kinky. To the carnival.
Wishing she could go to the place that felt like home.
“What the fuck is happening,” she asked softly, wiping at the tears in her eyes as the “K” engraved on the front seemed to shimmer, the black swirls inviting her to come closer. To pick up that card and allow everything she’d ever wanted to come to life.
Cleo reached for that glittering card but paused, nerves freezing her in place.
The last time she’d touched it, less than a few hours ago, it had taken her back to reality. She’d found herself on the ground outside of the very normal carnival with her best friend, Sara, telling her she’d passed out and hit her head as soon as they’d entered the carnival grounds.
But Cleo hadn’t fainted at all. And Sara had actually taken her through some twisted, magical carousel that brought her to that demonic circus.
Kinky’s Carnival was real, and the proof of its existence was literally at her feet.
The knowledge of that unsettled her. Why had Sara lied to her? She’d acted like she didn’t know anything about Kinky’s, insisting Cleo go home and rest. But she didn’t want to rest. It felt like her whole life she’d been resting, eyes squeezed tightly shut to the world around her. And now she was wide awake.
She needed answers, but all of that could wait. First, she needed to go to him.
She snatched up the business card from the ground, the last of her tears drying as she stood to her feet and squared her shoulders.
She barely spared the moving boxes littering her new apartment a glance as she grabbed her purse and keys, practically ripping the door open in her haste to leave.
It was time to go back.
***
It was late in the evening when Cleo returned to the carnival, relieved to still see that the lights were still illuminating the night sky, though it had to be close to shutting down for the night.
The parking lot was nearly empty, with only a few stragglers walking across the gravel as they headed to their vehicles. She was so frantic to make it before the carnival closed that she’d nearly forgotten to turn her car off, too focused on ensuring she brought that gold card with her to even swipe her keys from the ignition.
Hopefully her car didn’t get stolen, but even if it did, Cleo didn’t plan on coming back to it.
Her heart was beating rapidly as she made her way toward the ticket booth, trepidation turning her palms clammy as she waited impatiently in the short line. All too soon it was her turn, and her pulse began to echo in her ears.
Stepping up to the booth, Cleo slid the gold business card across the small counter and toward the booth operator, just as Sara had done earlier.
Unlike last time, there was no sly glance and a return of the card as they were allowed inside. In fact, he wasn’t even the same worker as before, and he looked like he’d just graduated from high school. A bit of acne along his chin, greasy brown hair, and a lanky frame he hadn’t quite grown into.
“Entry is ten dollars,” the operator told her, not even glancing at the card.
“I think this should work,” Cleo told him somewhat desperately, holding up the card in front of his face. Shit, what had Sara told the other worker? “I’m here for the special event.” Sara had also forked over a handful of cash, but surely a golden card negated the need for that, right?
Shit.
He squinted at it before huffing. “Lady, I don’t know what that is or what ‘special event’ you’re talking about, but unless you plan on showing me a magic trick and turning that into ten bucks, you’re not getting in.”
Fuck.
Cleo practically deflated as she tucked the card into her purse, sifting quickly through the contents inside until she found her wallet. She almost never carried cash on her, and sure enough, her wallet was empty. What the hell was she going to do now?
She had to get inside!
“I don’t have ten dollars,” she told him softly, looking up from her bag and wondering if she could just make a break for it.
There was only one security guard at the entrance to check bags and escort customers through a metal detector, but he looked bored and uninterested in his job, eyes glued to his phone. She could probably make it past him easily.
She felt ridiculous for even thinking of something like that, but she was either losing her mind, or there was a demonic realm lurking within this very carnival that belonged to a man who set her body on fire, her very soul crying out for him.
No, he wasn’t a man, but a demon. She recalled the way his silhouette had shifted into a taller male with wings and horns atop his head. It should have been terrifying, but his appearance had only made her want him more. It didn’t matter what he was in the end, she had to find him.
Rolling his eyes at her lack of cash, the attendant leaned forward, tapping a small, rectangular metal sign nailed to the front of the booth and snapping her from her thoughts.
She read the sign, shoulders sagging in relief before she pulled out her credit card, handing it over.
God, she was so frantic to get inside that she’d completely forgotten she could have used literally any other form of payment. Maybe she really was losing her mind.
