Chapter 4

                                    

                                          
"Not sure I'm the best one to be at the performance right now," Terrence croaked, hoping Marquez wasn't picking up on his anxiety. His body was aching from throwing up. His shoulders were like rock and his stomach was complaining from the stress of the whole situation. Possibly the food too, assuming it had been the food to make him ill. 
                          
Did he know? 
                          
A quick look into Marquez's cat eyes suggested otherwise. No, Terrence was safe for the moment. The man didn't look like he had any idea who Terrence was beyond someone attempting to avoid Madame's show. If Marquez knew it was him, Terrence had no doubts that the tight would pin him to the nearest surface before dragging him off to the cages. That image stabbed into his mind like a dagger. His knees almost buckled and Marquez's hands steadied him as he leaned heavily on the sink. 
                          
"It's rare that Madame performs. Plus, you look like you need to sit down for a while," the tiger rumbled, hints of the same tone he used to order people around in it. 
                          
Terrence almost laughed, pushing the thoughts of the cage from his mind. He needed to stay calm. Even with him visibly collapsing Marquez was determined to get him into the audience to witness Madame X in her glory. He pushed himself back up to his feet, trying not to be rude with pushing Marquez's claws off him.
                          
"I'm sure it's something to see, but I feel ill and should go home before I ruin anyone else's evening." Terrence looked over at the arena. Sounds of excitement were extruding from it. Another layer in them being desperate to have everyone watch. They'd put on another act in the meantime between. His stomach flipped and for one brief moment, he debated diving back towards one of the cabins. It didn't help that the pull remain. "I should go." 
                          
"You live across the road, correct? Surely you can last another fifteen minutes and return home in the intermission," That was the tone used to warn the others he was losing his patience. 
                          
Terrence understood why. Realistically holding the slot for one person caused problems. There was a lot of work done to ensure it was the highlight of the show. Only Marquez could also let him go. He was one soul, even if he was already theirs, it wasn't worth this effort assuming they didn't know who he was. Also. 
                          
"Little creepy that you know that?"
                          
"You dropped your wallet," Marquez offered him the brown piece of fabric. "I thought I should check whose it was before handing you a random person's stuff." He winked.
                          
Flames attacked Terrence's cheeks. He put it back in his pocket. Must have fallen out why he was throwing up. He looked back towards the doors. Maybe his will was weaker than he thought, or maybe it was the remnant of being trained to obey the man in front of him, but Terrence felt himself give in to the call. The longing siren song to fall into the trap laid out in front of him. Just give in and walk to his slaughter like a good little lamb. 
                          
Only he wasn't a lamb.
                          
"I guess I can hold on a little longer. It does sound like it'll be something spectacular," he smiled lightly, but he winced as his head swam a little as he moved.
                          
"That it will be," Marquez gave his showman grin then. The one used to lull people into a false sense of safety. A pleased purr not dissimilar to that of a cat humming in the surrounding air. "I'll help you back to your seat, shall I?" 
                          
A firm hand cupped his elbow and began leading him back down the path to the main tent. A flash of eyes and feathers curved around the wall. They had been waiting for him. Or rather, for Marquez to deal with him. Marquez may not know who he was yet, but Madame did or she would not be going to the trouble. There was no escape. Not with Marquez holding his arm and moving him. Other hybrids possibly, not the predator types, but the herd could be evaded.