April's Fool by Robbie Cox

Author:Robbie Cox
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: A Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Sandy Shores Publishing
Published: 2020-04-16T04:00:00+00:00

Fifteen

April stared at the body under the broken beams, the blood trickling into Chester’s gray hair, the top hat lying upside down just a few feet away. She jerked her attention to Wyatt, but he was already sprinting across the ground, shoving his way past the audience rushing to get out of the collapsing tent. Without thought, she followed, wanting to be by his side when he reached his grandfather, even though she couldn’t explain the need.

“Get it off him!” a voice screamed from behind them.

April glanced up as they neared the debris, noticing the tall, thin man from the other day when the circus first arrived in Black Hollow, both hands gripping his dark hair. Panic stretched his narrow features as he stared with wide eyes at the body of Chester.

The phantoms whirled around the collapsing tent, moaning as they stirred up the air, whipping the drooping canvas into a fluttering mass.

“Oh, my god,” the man wailed, frozen in place as he stared. “Oh, my god.”

“What happened?” Wyatt demanded to know as soon as he reached the griffin’s side. Reaching down to pull the closest piece of scrap timber away from his grandfather. “I thought it was your job to keep this from happening?”

Then April saw the other pair of feet, or rather, paws, lion’s paws. She gripped Wyatt’s shoulder, forcing him to turn around and face her before she pointed to the other body in the rubble. “I think they tried,” she whispered, her heart aching for the griffin helping them pull the others out of the disaster.

She saw Wyatt swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly, and then he nodded once as he reached for the next piece of wood on top of his grandfather.

“What the hell happened?”

The new voice jerked everyone’s attention around as Chester Compton rushed to where the catastrophe piled in the center ring. April felt her brows furrow as she stared, wide-eyed, at the man, then she jerked her gaze back to the body under the broken poles.

“Grandpa!” Wyatt leaped to his feet, racing to his grandfather and throwing his arms around the older man’s neck. “Oh, my god, you’re alive.” He held his grandfather out at arms’ length, staring at him through puzzled eyes. “But how is that even possible?” he asked as he glanced back at the body on the ground. “If you’re here, then who is that down there?”

Chester pried himself from Wyatt’s grip as he walked over to the rubble where the others worked quickly to remove those trapped underneath. “Because that’s not me,” he snapped. “Obviously.”

“You’re not…there…” the skinny man said as he stared, confused, at Chester who walked over to the griffin moving the giant beam of the tent pole from the body who wasn’t Chester. “I don’t…um…understand.”

“Shut up, Hodges,” Chester snapped as he stared up at the drooping canvas, ropes dangling from the center. “Patrick! Patrick, where are you?”

“Grandfather, what the hell is going on?” Wyatt asked, hands on his hips.

Several of the other circus people had arrived, joining in the rescue.

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