Heather Long: Waiting in the Wings

David froze, the card not quite touching the boy who should be a man.

“So why is it such a problem for you, Frederick? If it’s a challenge, surely your masters won’t let you accept it anyway…”

“Malcolm. You left Malcolm in charge. I’m his representative here—sort of—it can be argued that if I touch it and accept it, then he must fulfill the blood duel.”

The logic was sound, almost rational. “Andrew cannot challenge me until three full sunsets have passed.” He had time, particularly since he arrived after sunset last night.

“Perhaps not, but there’s a rumor the Arcana Royale may leave Las Vegas for a reservation in New York and…”

Richard laughed and shook his head. “You’re an idiot. The Overseers will not move their entire operation—nor would it matter if they did—as they cannot operate it within the boundary of the island of Manhattan, not when many of their clientele cannot cross water.” He drained his drink and held out his hand to David. Anton continued to keep Frederick captive while David passed the card to Richard.

Scanning the information, the vampire prince sighed. “It is an invitation—but not to combat. But thank you for the information that Andrew is planning something and the Overseers are encouraging the rumors.” Why shouldn’t they? If the princes of two cities came into conflict, a lot of profit stood to be made—particularly for a third party.

Frederick sagged. “I’m sorry. I thought—”

“No, you didn’t think, but then that is why you are in this situation. Do as I bid you. Get close to the stage manager. Learn everything and tell me before you tell the masters holding your leash.”

“But they might find out.”

The younger cousin of his oldest and closest friend or not, Frederick Reynolds had a great deal to learn. “Then remember you only serve them for a century. After that you return to my court—and my city.”

Frederick swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

“Show him out, Anton.” He tossed the invitation down and stared at the were-bear rug Kristina wiggled her toes against. “You two may retire for the day.”

Less than a minute later the two were gone. The card stock invitation announced a special show for one week only—featuring Kristina as the lead dancer—and his presence was requested. He didn’t recognize the handwriting, but he expected this was their answer to his five-million-dollar offer.

Picking up the phone, he dialed Malcolm’s number and the man answered on the first ring. “Malcolm, my apologies for calling so late in the morning. But I need to speak to your bride…”

He heard a murmuring and rustle of sheets and then a soft, breathless feminine voice said a tentative hello.

“Can you tell me what happens…exactly…when the curse activates during the daylight hours?”

“I can try.” The woman sighed. “I don’t know if it’s the same for everyone.”

“I understand this may be difficult.” He owed Malcolm’s bride that much respect, but he needed the answer. He needed to understand.

“It’s not painful. It’s cold and it’s lonely. You are you one moment and then you are in a gray place—alone—no sense of time or place or even self. It’s not sleeping, and I never dreamed. But I know one of the others did…”

“Kristina?” The daylight slumber of vampires was sometimes dreamless, but only in the first few years for the turned. Those born—like he and Malcolm—always dreamed.

“No. Her name is Cerveau. She dreams. A great deal, but she never told us what happened in the dreams. I used to tease her that she made it up, but maybe she didn’t.”

“And when you wake? What do you feel then?”

“I—it’s like being turned back on. The rush to the senses can be a little overwhelming at first. But you don’t really feel the passage of time. It’s more like you step from that one moment you were in when you went to sleep to the next, when you are awake.”

“And no pain?” As little comfort as the idea brought him, he wanted her to feel no pain.

“No physical pain. Of course, when you do it in front of someone you love, it hurts you to hurt them.”

The sadness in Kristina’s gaze, the faintest glimmer of horror and tears in her eyes as the polished white sheen took over her body and froze her features.

She still loved him.

Relief flooded through his soul. She may not remember him. She may be trapped in that limbo. But she still cared…

“I don’t know how this can help you.” Malcolm’s bride sighed. He appreciated the candor and the sympathy.

“Tell me, do you know why she was cursed?”

“No.” The answer disappointed.

“Is it likely the stage manager will tell me if I ask her?” He carefully avoided using the woman’s name. Malcolm indicated his bride and Heidi seemed friendly.

“Only if she really wants to but—” Her hesitation to complete the thought warned him of her concern. Her nails drummed against a wooden surface. “What Heidi knows, Minion almost certainly does and she and Kiki are really close. Minion also adores shiny objects, toys and chocolate…”

So the pet demon can be bribed…

“Sir, I know you want to help Kiki, but please don’t hurt Minion. She’s crazy and unpredictable and completely without a malicious bone in her body. I can try to send Kiki a text, Minion always reads her phone, but that might alert Heidi, and I don’t know what they would do.”

“No, thank you, you’ve told me quite a bit.” He soothed. “And I appreciate it. I will not hurt the little demon. You have my word.”

But the potential to trade one hostage for another…

That he could do.

Awareness swarmed over Kiki in a rush, and she stepped forward with a jerk, startled to find herself not in her own cell, but Heidi’s office. Coldness climbed through her limbs, an icy sensation pumping through her blood with every beat of her sluggish heart. Heidi sat behind the desk, a single manila folder in front of her and an unreadable expression on her face. Grasping the back of a guest chair, Kiki leaned her weight on it.

“I’m in trouble, aren’t I?” No sense in beating around the bush. She had been caught outside the theatre when the curse kicked in… but only because Stan wouldn’t let me in. She chose not to dwell on Richard seeing it happen. Talk about a buzz kill.

“More than a little.” Heidi tapped the manila folder in front of her. “This is your contract.”

The chill in her blood dropped to arctic levels. Digging her fingers into the fabric of the chair, she kept herself upright. “I was trying to get back in…”

Unmollified, Heidi shrugged. “You snuck out.”

Guilt poked her. “Yes. But it wasn’t for why you might think…”

“You wanted to party and you were bored?” The stage manager challenged her blandly.

“Okay, so maybe it is why you think. We’re not tied to the theatre when we’re off for the night. We are allowed to go out…” She sighed. Is Richard completely freaked out by the Dancer Jekyll and Mannequin Hyde routine?

“You are allowed, of course, but—for your personal protection and security—you notify us. You let Stan accompany you.”

“I was fine.” Kiki straightened, fighting the weakness invading her limbs. “I had fun and I didn’t break any rules.” Right? I didn’t… She had a few drinks, partied, and more than one awesome orgasm with the sexiest vampire she ever— Ooh, vampire. She touched her fingers to her throat where he bit her…but the smooth skin didn’t feel puckered or damaged.

“You went up to a private suite with three men you’ve never met, propositioning all three, I might add, and raced the sunrise to get back to the theatre.”