She grabbed his arm and pulled him away. It felt as if she were dragging an angry tiger at the end of a silken leash. “I need your help, Morgan. Niall Munroe is talking to Harry, and I must know what they are saying.”
One good thing to be said about Morgan was that he never wasted time on useless questions. He went with her to the cookhouse entrance and they stopped behind a sheltering tent pole. Harry and Niall were still talking—or at least Niall was.
Morgan tilted his head. His eyes narrowed to slits, and the corner of his mouth twitched.
“Munroe is trying to buy Harry off,” he said. “He is paying him to leave Denver at once, before the performance.”
“How much is he offering?”
“Half of what he promised for the show.” He lowered his head, and she thought she could see the hair lift along his skull. “What is this about, Firefly?”
“He thinks he is protecting his sister,” she said. “From the freaks, like us.”
“He knew what he was getting when he hired the troupe.” Gooseflesh rose on Caitlin’s skin when he looked at her. “Or is it something else?”
She touched his arm. “He saw one of the posters. He didn’t know about the Wolf-Man before, Morgan. I don’t think he could guess the real truth even if he tried. But he—” She shook her head. “He is afraid of anyone who doesn’t fit in his world.”
“How do you know this?”
Morgan’s voice had grown soft and dangerous. She shivered. “It was my fault. I said things I shouldn’t. But he had already made up his mind before he came here. He has ordered Athena to leave. If it were up to her—”
“You like Athena.”
“I believe she can be trusted. So do you.”
He didn’t deny it. “Munroe has no right—”
“He thinks he has every right.”
He returned to Niall’s conversation. “Harry is not giving an answer. He says that he doesn’t want to disappoint Miss Athena. He is asking Munroe for a little time to talk to the troupers, and to prove that the circus is safe.”
Bless him. Caitlin risked a peep into the cookhouse. She did not need Morgan’s translation to see how Munroe reacted to Harry’s evasion. He made a brief, final statement—loud enough for Caitlin to hear—and turned, his face thunderous.
“He said,” Morgan finished, “that it would not be wise for Harry to remain in town—that it would be an unfortunate mistake.” His lips lifted, baring his teeth. “Harry has one day to decide.”
It was so much worse than Caitlin had expected. She ducked out of the entrance as Munroe charged toward it, prepared to pull Morgan aside with physical force if necessary. But Morgan behaved himself. He retreated—”faded” was more the proper word—and Munroe shot out the door without seeing him.
“Do not waste your time on him, Firefly,” Morgan said.
“What do you suggest? Will you talk to him? You’re no better a diplomat than I am.”
She set off after Munroe, running to match his long strides. She would apologize. She would beg, on her knees if necessary, for him to let the troupers remain long enough for the performance. Not only because of the money, but for Athena’s sake.
Yes, for Athena. And maybe… just maybe for Morgan as well.
“Why the hurry, little fly? Do you have a new lover?”
Tamar could appear and disappear with the same disconcerting ease as Morgan. Caitlin slowed to a walk. “Not now, Tamar,” she said. “I have important business.”
“With him?” Tamar arched her long, elegant neck in the direction Niall had gone. “This should be most interesting.”
Exasperated, Caitlin hurried on, hoping that Tamar would not interfere. She caught up with Niall just as he reached the waiting carriages.
“Mr. Munroe,” she whispered, touching his arm. “I must talk to you.”
His muscles were rigid under the fine wool of his coat. “I have nothing to say, Miss Hughes. My sister must return home.”
“You are making a mistake,” she said, pressing more firmly into his sleeve. “Please—”
He turned. Their gazes met, and locked. An incredible spark of… something… sizzled between them, forming a current that began at the eyes and rushed through Caitlin’s body to the place where her hand touched his arm.