April's Fool Read online

  He heard the other door open and glanced over just in time to see his grandfather slip out of the driver’s seat and out into the late-afternoon. “Where are you going?” Wyatt called out as he watched his grandfather move to the front of the car. Other vehicles whizzed by on the interstate, a few moving over so as not to hit them inadvertantly. Chester didn’t seem to pay them any attention as he looked at the car, hands on his hips, staring as if the vehicle would speak to him and apologize for breaking down on them. Wyatt took another deep breath as he rolled his eyes and reached for his own door handle. Knowing he would regret it, he stepped out and joined his grandfather, no longer thinking about the nightmare he had last night. The living nightmare he just endured was scary enough.

  Three

  April sat on the bench inside the gazebo at the roundabout, sipping on her morning coffee as she watched the giant semis circling the roundabout, searching for parking spots. Sebastian and his officers struggled to keep the downtown traffic moving while allowing the vehicles of Professor Compton’s Phantom Circus to unload their equipment. They weren’t having very good luck by the look of it, either. Giant trucks of carnival equipment ringed every side along with food trucks, supply trucks, and what looked to April to be trailers. It was definitely spring break.

  Every year the circus came to Black Hollow to entertain and give the kids who remained in town something to do. There were rides, games, and enough greasy carnival food to last all week with special shows from various shifters and paranormals, especially the phantoms. April usually avoided the circus, wanting to stay away from kids as much as possible. After all, she was on break, a break she needed if she was honest with herself.

  “This seems like such a waste of time,” a voice sounded from behind her, causing her to jump slightly. She glanced over her shoulder to see Maren Applewood standing on the other side of the gazebo, her short, dark hair seeming almost plastered to her scalp. The woman placed her forearms on the wood railing as she leaned over, clasping her hands together. “I mean, really,” the woman continued as if April really needed to hear her opinion. “Why bring a phantom circus to Black Hollow? Isn’t that a little redundant? There isn’t anything in that circus the people living here haven’t seen on a regular basis. Hell, most of them could do the stunts themselves.” She shook her head. “And all this nonsense puts downtown into a tailspin. Ridiculous.”

  April took a deep breath in through her nose as she turned back around to watch the chaos in front of her. She couldn’t really deny what Maren said. The public library had ghosts, so phantoms were a bit on the redundant side, and with Black Hollow being a town full of paranormals, there wasn’t much the circus performers could do to ooo and ah the residents of their town. Of course, she wasn’t about to agree with Maren and add to the woman’s negativity. “There might not be much the people of Black Hollow haven’t seen, but it still offers a fun break from the routine of the day.” She shrugged. “I think it’s a good thing.”

  Maren cocked an eyebrow at April. “And yet, I don’t think you ever attend these things, do you? Why is that, if they’re such a good thing?”

  April forced a smile onto her lips. “Just because I don’t attend, doesn’t mean I don’t think it’s still a fun event for the town. I choose to spend my spring break in quieter settings.” She lifted her coffee, taking a small sip, savoring the warmth against the chill Maren brought with her. The woman was definitely a constant storm. She was the same way at Black Hollow Academy where she worked as the front desk receptionist, not the first impression April thought the parents of the students needed, but the choice had not been hers. Then something Maren said struck her as odd. April turned to face the other woman, her eyes narrowed as she studied Maren. “If you know I don’t attend, then that means you have to go to the circus. How else would you know I don’t go?” She tilted her head a little. “So if you think it’s a waste of time and a nuisance, why do you go?”

  Maren stood straight, pushing herself away from the railing as she narrowed her eyes. “I attend to make sure the children do nothing to bring shame to the school. You know as well as I do how they can be unruly at times.”

  April pressed her lips into a smirk. “I hadn’t realized Principal Damien assigned you guard duty outside of school hours. That must be a tedious assignment.”

  Maren gave a sniff of disgust as she turned and walked away, her back straight and shoulders stiff.

  April suppressed the giggle that wanted to bubble out of her at the other woman’s demeanor. The woman thought higher of herself than was necessary. Shaking her head, April turned back to watch the craziness around the roundabout. How these people ever managed to rein in the insanity of getting here and setting up to put on one of the best circuses April ever saw was beyond her. Yet, somehow, the madness in front of her transformed into what seemed like a well-oiled operation. At least, from what she remembered from the one time she did attend the circus.

  “What the hell happened to ya?” a gruff voice sounded from across the grounds at the roundabout park, drawing April’s attention.

  She glanced over as a tow truck parked alongside the curb, an older car with a dinged up front bumper on its lift. A giant of a man walked over to the truck, his hands on his hips as the doors opened and the tow truck operator slid out into the late morning, followed by two others. The first was a short, elderly man with a portly belly and sparkling red eyes April could see all the way over from where she sat. The second...

  April stared, her mouth open. The second was the man from last night, the man her banshee had visited to warn of a loved one’s impending death. She glanced over at the older man. Was he the one about to die? She narrowed her eyes as she studied him harder, searching for the aura that would... Her eyes went wide. It was him. She then glanced at the car, noticing the scrapes on the front bumper as well as the dent on the driver’s side. She cocked her head as she studied the car. Was the accident meant to kill the older man? Was that why she was sent to warn whoever the younger man was? Sighing, she settled back on the bench, her back against the railing. It seemed whoever sent her to warn the family member was off their game as the older man appeared fine at the moment, having survived the car accident. Weird, though. Banshees were rarely sent on fool’s errands.

  She lifted her cup, taking another sip of her coffee as she stared at the man she had visited last night. He was taller than the other man by almost a head and a half, with darker hair. He was fit, broad shoulders, powerful legs, and biceps that could hold her for hours if they were ever to wrap around her. He smiled at the gruff man who first approached them, a smile that seemed patient and kind and put a twinkle in his eyes.

  “Stop your fussing, Patrick,” the older man snapped at the gruff man. “Just had a slight hiccup on the way here is all. I think the master cylinder on the brakes went out. No one got hurt, so all is well. Just need to get it fixed.”

  “I can have the dwarfs at Tinkers look at it,” the first man said. “Just as soon as I get finished organizing the crews.” The man turned to the one April visited last night. “Wyatt, you sure you both are okay? I don’t trust Gramps here to tell me the truth if he were bleeding out his ass.”

  Wyatt, huh? He looks like a Wyatt.

  The younger man ran a hand through his dark hair as he shoved his other hand into his pocket. “Yeah, we’re fine. Just a little shaken up. Grandpa did great getting us out of traffic without causing a major pileup.” He turned and stared at the car. “Still, weird how it happened, though. There wasn’t any sign of anything going wrong. It just...went.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Strangest thing ever.”

  “Chester, Wyatt,” another voice called out. “What the hell happened?”

  April turned to see a thin man possessing dark hair with some gray lighting the edges making long strides across the grounds to where the others stood. The newcomer had a long, narrow face with a bird’s nose and lanky arms that seemed to flap as he walked.

  Chester, who April
assumed was the older man, just waved the skinny guy off. “We’re fine, Hodges. Nothing to worry your dramatic bones over. Just a little jarred and rattled. Good for waking up your senses.”

  Hodges waved his arms in the air, but April could tell he really did care. “I warned you something like this would happen sooner or later. Chester, you’re not a spring chicken anymore. You should have let Wyatt drive.”

  “And just how would Wyatt driving keep the brakes from going out?” Chester asked as he tilted his head to the side. “And I’ll have you know, I’m just as fit as I ever was. Now, get your carcass back to work and stay out of my business. Too old. You’re about to see just how spry this old man is.”

  Wyatt stepped in to separate the two, but the gruffer man just crossed his arms over his chest and waited to see what would happen. April somehow got the impression this was not the first time for this type of argument.

  Hodges put up his hands, staying off the fight Chester seemed to want. “I’m just concerned, Chester. The circus needs you in top form. What would happen if something untoward happened to you?” He shook his head. “I suffer to think of the chaos that would arouse.”

  Chester gave a loud bark of laughter. “Plenty of things get aroused in this circus; chaos being just one of them. Now, leave me be. I got a circus to get set up.” The older man shoved his way past Hodges, pushing the skinnier man to the side.

  The gruffer man just shook his head as he stepped in behind Chester, following him.

  April turned to see Wyatt squaring off against Hodges. “If I was you, I’d stop with all this old man shit,” Wyatt warned the other man. “You know how it gets his ire up.”

  “Wyatt, we have the future of the circus to consider,” Hodges said, his arms down at his sides. “We’ve already lost your father. If something were to happen to your grandfather, then you would be next to inherit the circus. I just think...”

  Wyatt held up a hand, stopping the other man from speaking further. “Nothing is going to happen to my grandfather. Now, drop it.” He shook his head and followed after the other two men.

  April watched as he walked away. But something almost did happen to your grandfather. What if it isn’t over? April sighed. She had warned him last night, but what did she do now that he was right here in her hometown, and she could actually speak to him? Banshees never had a chance to to speak to the recipients of their keening, so she wasn’t sure what the consequences would be if she explained everything to Wyatt now. She could get herself into trouble.

  Did she care, though? Would it be worth it to see her keening explained?

  Four

  Wyatt settled back in the camp chair, a fresh cup of coffee in his hand as he stared up at the stars dotting the night sky. The crackling flames of the fire in front of him coaxing him into a calm, relaxed state of mind, something he desperately needed after the day he had. His back ached from all the manual labor today, moving the equipment, setting up the rides, booths, and the giant circus tent. It didn’t matter that he was Chester’s grandson; everyone pitched in when it came to setting up and tearing down, even Chester. Since they were there during Black Hollow Academy’s spring break, Principal Damien Boogey allowed the circus to use the school’s parking lot as a base camp, so they wouldn’t clog up traffic around the roundabout. Early in the morning, everyone from the circus would walk down to the center of town, and the fun would begin. Tonight, however, all Wyatt wanted to do was sit back, sip some coffee, and relax.

  Chester sat in the chair beside Wyatt, his feet dangling just above the asphalt of the parking lot. His grandfather had a thick cigar in one hand, pinched between two fingers, and a whiskey glass in the other. As he leaned back in his seat, he blew out a deep breath. “I’m getting too old for this shit,” he said with a slow shake of his head. He then turned to Wyatt with a smile turning up his lips. “But, I wouldn’t trade it for anything else. God, I love this life.”

  Sedwick, Wyatt’s cousin, sat on Wyatt’s other side, nodding as he nursed a beer. “Agreed,” he said. “I wish my father had stuck it out, so he could have enjoyed these nights.” Sedwick’s father had left the circus in a huff as Chester spent more time teaching Wyatt’s father the business side of things, instead of him. Feeling cheated, he and his wife left, but for some unknown reason, Sedwick remained behind, knowing nothing else but circus life since he was born.

  Wyatt chuckled as he shook his head. “All the work is worth it once those kids hit the rides and sit in the bleachers for the shows.” He nodded his agreement. Then he grinned over at his grandfather. “And then we get to break it all down again.” The three of them laughed as Chester lifted his whiskey glass and Wyatt his coffee cup.

  Wyatt sighed as he slumped further down in his chair, allowing the relaxation of the evening to wash over him. “This is what I love about this life, Gramps,” he said as he stared back up at the stars. “I mean, I love entertaining the masses, don’t get me wrong, but this, sitting here under the stars, a cup of coffee in my hand, family surrounding me. This is how I could spend the rest of my life.”

  His grandfather laughed as he lifted his glass back to his lips. “Would be nice, but something has to pay for this life.” He sighed as he glanced around at the trailers, the other carnival workers laughing, playing cards, and sipping cheap booze. Smoke drifted into the night air as some of the carnies set up firepits in the parking lot, young and old surrounding them as they enjoyed the calm before tomorrow’s storm of activity. The young children of the families ran around the trailers and fires, playing tag or hide-and-seek or just chasing each other, but all of them laughing and screaming as they lost themselves in their youth. “This is what it’s all about,” Chester said, slicing the silence. “Family. The circus is, and always has been, about family.” He turned his gaze back to Wyatt, a soft smile turning up his lips. “These are the people you can count on in this life, who will never leave you, nor betray you. These are your people.”

  Sedwick chuckled as he shifted, his body transforming so that he looked just like Chester. “And I’ve spanked most of the mischievous bottoms out here,” he mimicked. He shifted back to his own bushy dark hair and younger features, laughing as he bounced his bushy brows.

  Wyatt followed his grandfather’s gaze around the makeshift camp, ignoring his cousin. He knew his grandfather created a safe world inside the borders of the circus, one for which the older man would sacrifice his own life. Wyatt’s grandfather believed everything he just said, but Wyatt wasn’t so sure he possessed the same sentiment. The truth was, he hadn’t felt the same since the death of his father a couple of months ago, and it didn’t matter that the death was ruled an accident, a freak equipment malfunction. The men and women of Professor Compton’s Phantom Circus were too damn good at their jobs for there to be an accident like that. It made no sense.

  Wyatt took another sip of his coffee, sighing instead of saying anything to his grandfather. The older man would never believe someone had set that accident up to happen, but Wyatt believed it with his entire being. He just couldn’t prove it, nor could he understand why someone would want to kill his father.

  Noise came from behind them as Hodges and Patrick walked up to join them. Wyatt was glad for the company, needing a distraction from his thoughts.

  “Everything set for tomorrow?” Wyatt’s grandfather asked Patrick as the larger man took one of the other camp chairs around their fire.

  “Need a seat, Hodges?” Sedwick asked as he sat his beer on the ground and shifted his thick body into the form of a camp chair.

  Hodges shuddered as he sat across from Chester, his legs pressed together as he stared into the fire, ignoring the young korrigan.

  Sedwick shifted back, laughing as he picked his beer back up.

  “Sedwick, stop with the foolishness,” Chester snapped. “And stop picking on Hodges.” He turned back to Patrick. “Well?”

  Patrick nodded. “It is.” He glanced over at Wyatt. “And double-checked,” he added with a nod.


  Wyatt just nodded back. He made sure Patrick double-checked everything since the “accident.” There would be no more accidents if Wyatt could help it. And he could help it.

  Patrick turned to Chester. “I also had your car towed to the dwarfs at the edge of town. Hurdik said he couldn’t get to it until Monday, but he’ll figure out what happened to your brakes and fix it. Off the top of his head, he thinks it’s the master cylinder, but he’ll let us know for sure after he looks at it.”

  Chester just nodded as he took another sip of his whiskey, rubbing his lips together when he finished.

  “Where’s the bottle?” Patrick asked, pointing to Chester’s glass. He pulled two cigars out of his shirt pocket. “I’m willing to trade,” he said with a bounce of his eyebrows.

  Chester laughed as he reached for the flask at his feet. Handing it over to Patrick, he said, “You’ll need a glass. No putting your lips on my flask.”

  “I wouldn’t think about it,” Patrick said, chuckling as he took the flask and handed over a cigar. “I’ll be right back.” He turned to Hodges. “Do you want a glass?”

  Hodges just shook his head, his lips pinched in a thin line, his body tight with agitation.

  Patrick shrugged, setting the flask beside his chair before he stood and moved off. Chester slipped the cigar into his shirt pocket for later and took another satisfying pull from the one in his fingers.

  “What’s he doing here?” Wyatt asked as he sat up straighter in his chair, nodding with his chin off in the distance.

  As the others turned in their chairs to look in the direction Wyatt indicated, Patrick coming to a halt only a couple of feet away, they noticed a tall, thin man in full business attire heading toward them. Samuel Finch. His short dark hair perched atop a narrow face with dark eyes and lips no one trusted. He had been after Chester to sell the circus for months, following them around, making offer after offer. How the slimy man followed them to Black Hollow, Wyatt didn’t know. Humans weren’t supposed to be able to find the paranormal community on their own, a protective spell put on the community by the founder, Seraphine, and her family. Yet, here the man was, ruining a perfectly good night.