“That’s why I recognize her,” Cyri’s dad said.
“I do a lot of children’s theater, which is the most rewarding thing in the world, and as you can hear, I’m from South Carolina. Don’t worry, casting directors, I can lose or change my accent anytime.” Chaz rolled his eyes. Actors just could not help themselves. He remembered they were live and switched to looking entranced by Portia’s narrative cum audition for the world. “I’m thrilled to be a part of this, and I’m going to make sure you guys get the show of your lives!”
Edmund cocked his head. “How will you make sure?”
“Do you have to fuck with them so soon?” Delia said.
“Are the cameras not rolling?” Edmund said. “Besides, we all have our raison d’être.”
“Um…” Portia’s smile held but abruptly became strained. “By being the best competitor I can be.”
“I hope she gives it a hundred and ten percent,” Cyri muttered.
“Yes,” Edmund said. “I imagine you’ll give it one hundred and ten percent.”
“Why do you come here if you hate humans?” Delia said to Edmund.
“Because I don’t trust the judgement of those who do not.” Edmund flashed his fangs for punctuation.
“And yet,” Delia said, to Edmund only, “you just repeated for all what a human child in the audience uttered to herself. How unfitting.”
“I thought it might be beneficial to our kind to promote someone worthy this season.” Edmund desperately ignored the gibe about the girl. “Surely, we don’t want a repeat of last year’s little fiasco.”
“Let’s punctuate that,” The Voice said in Chaz’s ear.
“We’re looking for some action here,” Chaz passed along for the judges’ benefit.
Nodin bared his fangs, but Delia was already straddling Edmund, her claws sunk deep into his neck. Cyri came to attention.
Delia gave Edmund a little shake. “We do not discuss last year’s little fiasco, Edmund,” she said.
“Someone must be aware of the dangers of bestowing sudden power on the unworthy.” It was a painful remark for Edmund to get out, and not because of Delia’s death grip on his throat.
“This season’s winner will be closely supervised unless said winner has demonstrated an extremely high level of sanity,” Chaz said. “Loss of human life can be upsetting.”
“Apologies,” said Edmund, who was still dealing with his upset. “I got carried away.”
“You’re bleeding,” Delia said.
“You could pull your claws out a bit,” Edmund said. Delia complied.
The Voice covered the mouthpiece connecting him to Chaz and asked Little P, “Is the massacre trending?”
“Yes, sir,” Little P said with pleasure. They were off to a good start.
The Voice nodded. “Hard to believe we ever thought a massacre could be a bad thing.”
Little P agreed. It was hard to believe. There had been twenty-seven killed when last year’s winner lost her mind, but you couldn’t buy press like that. “Yes, sir,” he said.
Still onstage, Portia was barely breathing. Chaz could hear her pulse throbbing in her neck. She froze like a smiling deer in the headlights, but Chaz was willing to bet she was infinitely tastier. Chaz signaled to the girls, thinking that as long as the vampire twins could resist making a snack of her in her heightened state, Portia would be safer offstage. Besides, the twins eating her offstage would be better than having her ripped apart on camera because she’d ended up in the middle of a fight scene between Delia and Edmund.
The vampire put his hand on Portia’s back to let her know she was exiting the stage.
“Hang on,” the Voice said. Chaz felt his eyebrows crawl up his face as he listened.
“Just one more thing,” Chaz said. “I’m being told you were quite active politically during all the controversy surrounding vampire-human marriage. Tell us about those days.”
Portia nearly screamed. She was trembling with the need to be away from vampires. She hadn’t even made it through her introduction before a potentially freaking deadly (to Portia) vampire skirmish broke out. And now she was expected to explain her political proclivities?
She forced her best smile. “It was a long time ago. I think many of us have strong opinions when we’re young, and I don’t believe anyone should hold those youthful opinions against us later in life.”
“Shall we take that to mean your thoughts on vampire–human marriage have evolved?”
Portia squirmed under Chaz’s gaze. She thought any human stupid enough to marry a vampire deserved what they got. “This is embarrassing, Chaz,” she said, “but the truth is there was a guy.” She was telling the truth. There had been a guy. Portia had dragged him to protests until his brain managed to override his penis, and he dumped her.
Fascinated by the bigotry, Chaz was prepared to delve deeper, but the Voice tickled his ear again, and he dismissed the actress.
Portia was led away by the twins who weren’t twins, and the first hurdle was past. She managed to give a practiced wave as they took her away. She notched up the smile to go with it. She congratulated herself on her poise and threw up as soon as she passed the curtain. She fucking hated vampires.
There were a few moments of complete silence while Delia and Edmund worked things out; Delia’s nails embedded in his neck the whole time.
“Let’s move on,” The Voice instructed.
“He says, enough,” Chaz told Delia.
Finally, when half the audience was on the verge of passing out from holding their breath, Edmund narrowed his eyes and nodded as well as he could. A feat that isn’t as easy as it should be when one has an enraged vampire poised to tear one’s neck open. Delia released him and resumed her throne.
“That was Portia,” Chaz reminded everyone. “Next up, we have another showbiz veteran. Say hello to Cassie!”
Portia had turned once she was safely offstage and past the puddle of her own sick to ascertain whether some freaky vampire war was about to break out. Therefore, she was in a position to get a glimpse of Cassie. Cassie was cute, thin but muscular. Light brown hair, not as pretty as Portia, but at least ten years younger. Portia felt a surge of resentment for Cassie’s youth. The vampire twins let her glare for a moment then took her firmly away.
Onstage, Cassie trotted out, waving to the crowd the whole way. She made it to Chaz, met his upturned hand with her own, but deliberately stayed too far away for kisses.
Chaz ignored her reticence and pulled her in for a hug, which she returned gamely enough once she didn’t have a choice. “How are you, darling?” Chaz asked.
“Great, just great,” Cassie told him, turning to include the audience at the last moment. “I’m thrilled to be here.”
“A female immune to Chaz’s charm?” Nodin wondered.
“Inconceivable,” Delia added. “Besides, it looks more like she’s afraid of him than immune.”
“Go ahead and tell the good people why you’re so thrilled.” Chaz knew she was this season’s hard-luck contestant, so far. They’d always had one. Last year, it had been an orphan. Chaz couldn’t see the tragedy of not having parents once one was an adult, but the audience had loved her. Still, a dread human disease was almost as good.
Cassie nodded. “I’m a dancer, and my doctor ―not to mention the doctors I went to for second and third opinions ―recently diagnosed me with Rheumatoid arthritis. I want to win this competition, so I don’t have to give up my career. I’ve been dancing since I could walk, and I hope to be dancing forever. I live with my fiancé and my cat Bella.”
“Way to sacrifice the male vote,” Chaz said.
“I think the arthritis pretty much killed her chances of being this season’s fantasy girl,” Delia said.
“Her family,” said the Voice. “They don’t speak.”
“Tell us about the rift with your family,” Chaz said. “What’s it like to be on the verge of an experience that will change you forever, with no support fro
m your loved ones?”
“I do my best not to think about it,” Cassie said. “And when I can’t manage that, I think about why I deserve to be without them. It’s the same reason I deserve to win this.”
“The audience isn’t following,” Chaz said.
“Four years ago, I declined the opportunity to donate bone marrow to my little brother.”
“And how is he doing now?”
“He’s dead.”
“I understand your decision had something to do with your career,” Chaz said.
“It did.” Cassie’s chin was defiant, but her eyes were spilling tears.
“Which is going to be over regardless, if you don’t win this,” Chaz said.
“Yes.”
Edmund pounced. “Why should we change you when you are weak and flawed?” Weak, flawed, and foolish, Edmund thought, but inwardly he smiled at the bravery.
“She can’t help it,” Delia said. “She’s human.”
“That’s true,” Cassie said. She looked at Edmund and raised her pointy little chin. “We are all weak and flawed. To you, I’m sure it seems we humans are especially so, but we are not the only ones. And I am doing everything in my power to overcome my weakness, although I imagine I will still be flawed. And I think of my brother every day. What else can I do?”
Chaz was ready to launch himself in front of the girl if Edmund attacked. He hoped Delia would rouse herself to assist. She was clearly up for a fight. The twins were in the wings, but they were so new Edmund could command them to stand down as easily as he would separate Cassie’s heart from her chest. Instead, Edmund laughed. “I wish you well,” he said.
“That seems out of character,” Nodin said.
“Right?” Delia said.
The Voice squawked in Chaz’s ear.
“Well wishes from Edmund,” Chaz said. “I’m sure none of the other contestants will be able to tell that story. How about you skedaddle while you’re ahead?”
“Skedaddle?” Delia said. “Are you my grandmother?”
Cassie nodded once in acknowledgment of Chaz’s advice, waved brightly at the audience, and trotted off toward the vampire twins.
Celeste knew it should never have come to this. It was funny in a sick, sad way that her failure had brought her here, into a situation where the same failure would be virtually impossible. But it was finally good to be different. To be the one who understood happy endings are bullshit and pursuing them is futile. Which meant, that unlike the other contestants, the odds were staggeringly in her favor. Soon everything would be as it should have been all along. Today was going to be a good day. The best day—in fact, the day the waiting was over. Unless it didn’t happen today. Celeste wasn’t sure about the timeline, but she knew it would be soon, and that was enough.
She paced around her dressing room, concentrating on the thud of her boot heels. She had been unconvinced heels were appropriate, but no one had cared. In addition to the boots, she had been given pants and long sleeves to cover the scars. Celeste had sensed pity as they’d primped and styled her, but their pity didn’t matter. She knew she was getting what she wanted. She knew because she’d always wanted it. She wondered some more about the other contestants. Would any of them be here for the same reason she was? Probably not. But that was fine. Celeste had made peace with who she was. Made peace, not given up like her parents had accused. There had been months of weeping and recriminations. Celeste felt bad for her parents; she believed they would miss her, but the time had come when she had to do what was right for her. She had learned that when they sent her to therapy.
Of course, she knew they loved her, but she suspected part of their fierce objections was the shame factor. Decent people don’t do things like this, and they certainly don’t do them in front of everybody. And most of the world surely counted as everybody. Celeste had listened to their objections, duly considered them, but she had already known which way she would jump. She was ready. There might be obstacles, there might be hearts broken, but in the end, she was going to have what she wanted. And no one would stand in her way.
It was almost time. It was almost over.
“You’ve got to love a girl who doesn’t overestimate the need for talk,” Chaz said, as Cassie scampered offstage. “All right, people. Here comes Emily!”
Emily’s hair shone under the lights. Chaz watched her big dark eyes as she crossed the stage. She reached him and leaned in to touch her cheek to his. She smiled around, and Chaz could see she wasn’t simply submitting to observation. She was an observer. He was surprised to notice she was shaking.
“Emily,” he said. “What must we know about you?”
“I don’t know about must,” Emily said. “But what I’d love for you, and of course everyone watching, to know is I’m a librarian, and what attracts me to immortality is having the opportunity to continue learning forever. Also, my favorite cuisine is Indian, and I’m a Pisces.”
“You have composure,” Delia said.
“Thank you.”
“Would you lose your composure if I told you that if you do not win the first challenge, I will drink you to the brink of death every night for a year and then finish you?”
“I probably would,” Emily said, “if I hadn’t read the contract.” Not that what she had read was much comfort. True, the legalese translated to, could be killed in competition, as opposed to would be, but Emily’s extensive research had revealed modifications in the language for this season, their purpose to open the door to more intentional mayhem.
Chaz was impressed. Delia smiled. Hardly anybody read the contract.
“Tell us about dropping out of college,” Chaz said.
Emily considered before saying, “There’s not much more to tell.”
“You did eventually graduate, though?” Delia said.
“Yes.”
“From a lesser school.” Emily shrugged. It was a matter of perspective. Chaz cocked his head to study her. “You were so dedicated, on a scholarship at what most would consider a prestigious university, and you were able to let it go from one day to the next without regret?”
“No,” Emily said. “I have no regrets. I would do it again.”
“I’m told we may come back to this at a later time,” Chaz said, after processing the information flowing from his ear bud. Emily shrugged. One didn’t dwell on the past when the future was happening.
“I used to be a Pisces,” Nodin said, dragging the conversation back to trivialities. “In the seventies. Do you think this is significant?”
Emily took a moment to assess Nodin. “I don’t. It’s just a bit of trivia so you and the audience can get to know me.”
“Tell me, baby,” Nodin said in perfect imitation of a hippie he had eaten in the sixties. “How does the shattering revelation of your sign help us to know you?”
“It doesn’t per se,” Emily clarified. “What you know is I made a poor choice in choosing a fun fact about myself.”
“No one said it wasn’t fun,” Chaz said.
“Shall I?” Edmund said.
“You missed the moment,” Delia told him.
“I believe you have far more entertaining facts at your disposal,” Delia said.
“I’m a librarian,” Emily said. “The interesting facts I could share aren’t about me.”
“Why does this one believe she is entitled to tell us what we know?” Edmund said.
“You’re such a dick,” Delia said.
Emily turned her face to Chaz and lifted the eyebrow that the judges couldn’t see a fraction. Chaz took it as a scream for help. “I’m Chaz, and I’m a Taurus,” he said.
“Hi, Chaz!” The crowd screamed.
“And this is Emily the Pisces.” Emily dutifully waved to the crowd. “Go see the girls, Emily.”
Emily swept past the vampire girls, leaving them to trail in her wake. She had only wanted to avoid their touch, but to most of the audience, it appeared an audacious– if bitchy– move.
“Are
you ready for Lola?” Chaz called to the audience. They cheered Lola as she crossed the stage to Chaz. Lola paused to pump both fists in the air and bent down to high five a couple members of the audience on her way.
“Lola,” Chaz said. “Talk to us.”
“Hi, Chaz. Hi, audience. Hello, esteemed judges.” Lola had every ounce of wicked composure a human could contain. She wasn’t nervous. She was laughing at the spectacle of the show, but she had slapped on her ear-to-ear, good-girl grin.
“Are you glowing?” Chaz said.
“Just happy to be here,” Lola shot back.
“And, I imagine, happy the lawsuit has concluded,” Chaz said.
“My body, my choice,” Lola said. “The jury agreed.”
“I’m told the lawsuit was about breach of contract,” Chaz said after the Voice clarified. “The one you had with the parents? After all, genetically speaking―”
“Vampires kill people all the time,” Lola said. “I don’t understand why you care about―”
“We do not care,” Edmund said. “We scarcely consider you humans sentient beings.”
“Which, I imagine, is why Lola is here with us this evening,” Chaz said. “To be all she can be.”
“I want your votes,” Lola yelled at the audience, “but I’m here to win. I don’t care what anybody thinks. Whatever I have to do, I’m going to fucking do! I am your new Creature of the Night, and my name is Lola! Watch me, support me, and I will make you lose your minds when you see what I bring to the competition. See you soon!”
“Such big talk,” Delia said.
“Such big b–”
“Really, Nodin?”
Lola grabbed Chaz and planted a kiss on his lips. There was no chance Chaz would fight off even a reasonably attractive woman, and Lola was far higher up the scale than “reasonably,” so he returned the kiss with interest. The crowd screamed. The judges made various expressions of disdain.
When Chaz and Lola broke apart, Lola’s lip was bloody, and her eyes were shining with triumph. She flashed her sweet grin one more time, and it looked sincere even to Chaz, though he knew it wasn’t. Chaz smacked her on the ass and sent her off the stage. “Did things just get interesting, or did they just get more interesting?” The crowd damaged some vocal chords as they agreed things were getting interesting.
Creature of the Night Page 3
