Heather Long - Waiting in the Wings

Kiki reclined on a bed of fur. The nude painting was a personal favorite of Richard’s—and one he shared with no one.

He would have his princess back.

If it meant destroying the casino, so be it.

Music thrummed through the walls, and Kiki bobbed in time to it. Sprawled on the bed of her cell, she flipped through a fashion magazine. Jeannie’s latest care package included a variety of cosmetics, magazines and a dozen DVDs of movies Kiki never heard of before.

“Whatcha doing?” Minion bounced into the room and flung herself onto Kiki’s back. The little imp’s tail tickled her spine as the imp clambered up to peer at the magazine over her shoulder. “Ooo! Pretty!”

“I know, right?” She reached up to rub the red-skinned imp’s ear affectionately. “I like this one.” Kiki tapped the black lace dress. It hugged the torso, flaring at the hips, and featured strategically placed circles baring the shoulders and elbows.

“This one.” Minion thumped the opposite page’s sheer red and black evening dress where flames hugged the breasts and covered the hips and juncture of the thighs.

“Yeah, not thinking Heidi would go for that.” She laughed, imagining their Rubenesque stage manager in such an outfit.

“Ha!” The imp rolled on her back laughing. “For me!” Her tail started to flick in time with the music. “Who is this?”

“Maroon Five.” Kiki flipped the page. The way the dresses emphasized bare skin like an erotic flirt continued to fascinate her. “Jeannie sent them.”

“Jeannie!” Minion squealed and then flopped over onto her back in dramatic pause. “I miss Pandora.”

“Me too.” A curious disappointment tugged at her insides. Pandora’s relationship with the vampire Malcolm provided her with an escape. An escape Kiki admired and envied in the same breath. She understood the admiration—but not the envy.

“Britta is having a party.” Minion’s abrupt subject changes took some getting used to, but like all the other dancers in the Midnight Mystery Lounge, Kiki indulged Heidi’s demon companion.

“I hear that. Did you want to go to the party?” She flipped to the next page. The cars seemed different than what she—she didn’t really remember cars, so why they seemed different she couldn’t explain. However, the model, not the car, captured her attention. The man leaned against the driver’s side door, arms folded in front of his chest, head turned away from the camera. The rakish black hair feathered over his forehead and down over his ear. He looked stunning in a tuxedo.

Stunning and familiar…

“I want to go!” Minion bounced on the bed. The action jarred Kiki, and she let the magazine fall. Snagging the imp, she pounced on her and started tickling. The little beast squealed with laughter and they tussled onto the floor. Wiggling, the imp fled out the door. With the theatre closed for the night, the dancers indulged themselves with mani-pedis, pizza, music and a private party—just for them.

Of course, the theatre only closed because Roseâtre, their headliner, and Anthony, her scrumptious man candy, were off to Eastern Europe and Turkey to meet with their respective families.

Peppermint bumped hips as she padded past, a slice of pizza in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. “Come party, girl. Hiding in your room is just not you.”

She pasted on a smile and laughed. “No, but I thought I would try on something different—you know, sedate, scholarly—thoughtful…”

Peppermint stared at her, hazel eyes widening. They both burst out laughing at the same time, and Kiki danced forward to give her a hug. Outside her cell, the music pulsed around them. Britta grabbed her hand and pulled her into the dancing throng. Dayna held out a glass of wine. Kiki took it and tossed it back. She thrived on these moments, the wild party atmosphere—the dancing, the playing, the squeals of laughter.

She was on her third glass when Heidi beckoned her with a simple gesture. Heidi was the stage manager, the mistress of the Midnight Mystery Lounge, matron and enforcer… The woman served many capacities. More than a little tipsy, Kiki held her arms up and weaved a path through her friends and hugged her. “Heidi!”

The stage manager gave her a small squeeze, guided her down the hallway and around the corner. The music continued to pulse, but the noise level decreased. “You need a drink.” Kiki glanced at her own glass. “Speaking of which, so do I.”

Heidi stopped Kiki’s pivot with a hand to her arm and shook her head. “No, we just need a moment to chat. We’re going to launch a new show this week—a little extemporaneous thing—like the drunken debauchery debutante ball you have going on here.”

Kiki leaned against the wall and laughed. “Drunken debauchery debutante ball?” Her lungs squeezed from the laughter and she wheezed. At Heidi’s hard stare, she sobered with a sigh. “Fine. Why do we have to do some extemporaneous thing?”

“Because Roseâtre and Anthony won’t be back until the end of the week, and we can’t stay dark that long. So what I want you to do—”

“Argh. Heidi. You’re killing me here…or at the very least you’re killing my buzz.” The dancer dropped her chin to her chest and faked a moan. “Night. Off.”

“Why yes, I am aware, but since you can’t actually die, suck it up.” The stage manager’s dry response sent another titter of amusement through Kiki. “Tomorrow night. It will be extemporaneous for everyone—”

Kiki’s teeth ached—which was stupid because the last thing any of the dancers ever worried about were medical issues, much less dental. The spells that tied them to the theatre locked them in at the age they arrived, their lives dedicated to every performance—not that they didn’t have time for fun occasionally like tonight. But it didn’t matter where a dancer came from. Once her soul was bound, she remained bound for the duration of her contract.

Her mouth probably hurt because she’d ordered fake fangs and forgot to take them out before the spell swept over her during daylight. Who knew where the damn things were now.

The hum of Heidi’s words coupled with the throb in her gums dried up her buzz. “Oh my God.” She snarled. “I got it—why are you bugging me with this now?” She clapped a hand over her mouth, as if trying to shove the words back in, but they’d already escaped.

The stage manager’s expression chilled, and her gaze became positively glacial.

“Ooo—someone’s gonna get it.” Minion danced a jig around their legs and then scampered up to Heidi’s shoulder.

“Go away.” Heidi told the imp without looking away from Kiki.

“But…”

“Now.” One word. A single tone. The imp literally vanished with a bamf of noise. Kiki envied the creature. She’d like to disappear. Her quickly ignited temper flamed out as fast.

“Heidi—”

“I am telling you because you will be acting as lead for the next six nights. The girls will follow you. They will improvise their performance from yours.” The arctic breeze slicing through the words cut Kiki to the bone.

Lead. She would dance lead.

Her mouth opened, but words failed her.

“Don’t be late—or hung over.” The manager left, but the frozen tundra of her presence left Kiki rooted to the spot.

She blew out a breath, awareness creeping up the back of her neck. Turning, she spotted Cerveau standing in the doorway to her own cell.

“What?” At least that word came out exasperated rather than furious. The agitation surging up in her blood surprised her. Her skin itched. The music throbbed in her ears. Her mouth hurt. She was the party girl, not the killjoy. She left that job to everyone else.