Master's Flame Read Online Free Page B

headed for the practice studio. His train from Brussels had been gratifyingly prompt, and the construction there on schedule. Everything in order, just as he liked it, and now he got to view the seeds of what would grow into the new Paris show.
    As always, he felt impatience mixed with a rousing sense of possibility. So many personalities, so much creative spirit to mold into a unified program. Creating art was, to him, an exercise in discipline. One took risk and inspiration and harnessed them for the enjoyment of audiences, controlling elements that resisted control.
    Speaking of elements that resisted control...
    Michel pondered the issue of
La Vampa
. He hadn’t heard much directly from Jason, but word got around. She was every bit as disruptive as he had expected. She was either loved or hated by her colleagues, and sometimes loved and hated at the same time. Michel didn’t have the luxury of forming any emotionally-based opinion of her. As with all his performers, he would support Valentina Sancia as long as her art and performance merited his care.
    A few moments later he arrived at the practice space and took a seat on the perimeter with his artistic team. He scanned the large room, noting the various types of rigging and the groups of artists stretching on mats near the walls. He beckoned each act in the order he wanted to see them, saving
La Vampa
’s act for last. He saw a fantastic high bar act, a Russian Swing routine with a lot of potential, a group of rhythmic dancers who were not as fey as he feared they would be, and a fire-eater that downright unsettled him. He watched his daughter’s emotional solo trapeze act, developed over the summer in Marseille. As many times as he’d seen it, it still amazed him.
    Overall, he was thrilled.
    To his left, Adei stretched bulging muscles while Valentina bent backward and arched her minute frame into a near-perfect circle. He thought of the
ouroboros
, the snake swallowing its tail in a symbol of eternity and reinvention. She rolled out of the unnatural position and came to her feet with a grace he found arousing. Michel was a carnal man; when she did those things, he thought about sex. If she could do
that
with her body, what else could she do?
    But this wasn’t the time to fantasize about exotic sexual positions. He focused on Valentina and Adei’s showmanship as the pair began their act. They already had music, West Indian in origin, with modern beats and dance influences mixed in. His musical director would refine and expand it based on the final version of the act. For now, it provided a blueprint as far as tempo and length. Michel was struck by Valentina’s musicality as she twisted and strutted about the floor. Adei was the sun to her skittering planet. In a sensual bit of choreography, she shimmied up Adei’s body and stood, perfectly balanced, on his upraised hands.
    The lifeblood of his circus—any circus really—were artists who could do what other people couldn’t. This hand-to-hand act fell firmly in that category, perhaps too firmly. Valentina’s daring alarmed him. She went into a handstand on one arm—hers and Adei’s—and bent her body back in a defined arch. She did splits and turns, her eyes locked with her partner’s. She flipped in the air and Adei caught her on his upturned palms. It wasn’t all his skill. She used her body to position herself perfectly and to land with a soft touch. With a grin, Adei flipped her up again, making it look like nothing more than schoolyard shenanigans. The things they did could only be achieved through the melding of two singular sets of talents. Even then, each new leap, arch, and stunt shocked him a little more.
    “
Dieu
,” he whispered at one point to Jason beside him. “How is it possible?”
    “Because she’s crazy,” he whispered back. “Like I told you.”
    Then came the wobble. Adei’s fault, not hers. Michel’s practiced eye saw it nearly before it began. A falter in balance and