Derr_Megan_-_Dance_in_the_Dark

by Megan Derr

  Zach looked across the ballroom. "Well, I can certainly work on the parents. Willingly or unwittingly, they will tell me something."

  "I wish I had brought Jester after all," Phil said with a huff. "He would have marked her magic immediately—but then again, he did not say anything that day in your father's study." Frowning, she dug into her little beaded clutch and pulled out her cell phone, scrolling through numbers as she said, "I may be able to tell you her abilities, anyway. To the best of my knowledge, all necromancers must be registered, and legal or not they would have to go through the registered necromancers in some way to obtain certain skills or knowledge. I have connections with one of them. Give me a few minutes."

  "That is fine," Johnnie said, looking across the ballroom again, weighing his options.

  "What are you thinking, Johnnie?" Phil asked, thumb hovering over the call button, giving him a curious look.

  Johnnie pursed his lips in thought, then nodded, decision made. "I believe I will go and speak with my brother." So saying, he nodded at them in parting, then strode across the room to where his brother still sat, Ekaterina clinging to him.

  "Ellie," Johnnie greeted lightly.

  Looking up from where he had been speaking with Ekaterina, Ellie regarded him coldly. "Come to throw another Princess fit, or are you done with tantrums for the evening?"

  Johnnie quirked one brow.

  "Do not play coy with me," Elam snapped. "The entire ballroom could hear you shouting. Disgraceful and pathetic, and how like you to show no concern or regard for anyone else. Even during my betrothal ball, it is poor little Johnnie that Father must run off to attend."

  The words should hurt. Only yesterday—only a few hours ago—they probably would have. Nothing, however, could hurt more than the empty space at his side, the void left by Bergrin's betrayal. There was not a person in the world who could hurt him more than Bergrin had with whatever game he had been playing.

  Johnnie sketched a half bow, dipping his head low in apology. "I apologize, Ellie. If I had known I would wind up—" He faltered briefly, then forced himself to rally, "getting into an argument with my bodyguard, I would have picked a better time and place. I hope I did not ruin the evening entirely." He turned toward Ekaterina and sketched another bow, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. "My lady, I do apologize for disrupting your ball."

  Ekaterina smiled warmly at him, and gently squeezed his hand. "Do not trouble yourself over it for another moment longer, my dear. These things happen. I meant to ask you, by the way, about that little case you were working on when last we spoke. Did you figure out who was killing all those poor girls?"

  "No," Johnnie said. "I am afraid we hit a dead end. But thank you again for your help."

  "Of course," Ekaterina replied. "You will have to tell me all that you do know of it, some time. There is a meeting of the Society next month, and I know it will come as quite the shock to hear that twelve of our members are dead, and by such horrible means. It will be a comfort to them and the families of the deceased, to hear that Desrosiers' son spent some time on the matter."

  Johnnie kissed her hand again. "As you wish, my lady. But if you will pardon me for now, I need to steal my brother for a few minutes." He winked, to show it was really a trifling thing.

  Ekaterina smiled. "Of course. I will go and get a fresh drink, and speak to my parents briefly. You gentlemen behave." With that, she gathered up her skirts and swept off.

  Taking the seat she had vacated, Johnnie sat down and faced his brother. His mind, however, was completely distracted by what Ekaterina had just said—it will come as quite the shock to hear that twelve of our members are dead.

  When he had spoken to her, they had only known of seven deaths, and his father had only later confirmed eleven. How had she known the number was twelve? He did not think Ontoniel would bring the matter up again in front of her, but if she had asked, he might have explained more of it. Johnnie would have to double check that.

  But if Ontoniel had not told her, how could she know?

  Johnnie did not like the implications. He also did not trust that she would be so careless. Either she was not as smart as she thought, or she was, and the latter was by far the worse.

  One problem at a time, Johnnie forced himself to remember. Saving Elam was the priority; the rest he would figure out later. Refocusing his attention, Johnnie said, "Jesse is having a small party next month. He wanted me to ask if you might be interesting in performing at it."

  Elam shrugged irritably. "I really do not have any interest in such things these days, never mind that Jesse is under house arrest and lucky to still be part of the territory no matter what Father says. He has taken up with a human, in case you forgot that, though I find that hard to believe seeing as you were there."

  "There is nothing wrong with humans," Johnnie said, bristling. "I am one, in case you forgot that, which I do not find hard to believe."

  "You are an incubus," Elam retorted.

  That threw Johnnie. "You—you knew?" he demanded angrily.

  Elam smirked in his cold, superior, infuriating way. "I was eighty-nine at the time. Young, but old enough I had to be kept apprised. But, Father being Father, and utterly besotted with his new son, he forbade me to ever mention it to you. A normal life," he imitated in mocking tones. "Poor Johnnie has suffered enough, the past should be left to its own devices, blah blah blah, and so the entire Desrosiers world was made to stand upon its head for precious little Johnnie. Spoiled, ungrateful, know-it-all yet completely ignorant Johnnie."

  "I am ungrateful for nothing," Johnnie snapped. "My ignorance was never of my own choosing, and if I am spoiled then you are so beyond spoiled it is ridiculous. As to know-it-all—"

  "Spare me," Elam cut in coldly. "From the moment he first saw you, held you, it was Johnnie this and Johnnie that. He might have been devastated to lose mother that night, but he was not at all upset to get you out of the deal. Down one blood-crazed, dying wife—but up one bratty little child."

  Johnnie recoiled, taken aback by Elam's words, the bitterness to them. This was not the reason he had come over here. "Ellie—"

  "Shut up," Elam snapped. "As if all of that was not enough, my father turned into someone I scarcely knew practically overnight. Decades of tradition, tossed right out the window, all to accommodate precious Johnnie."

  "Whatever you think I am," Johnnie said quietly, "I will never be his blood, his eldest, his pride and joy, his Alucard. I am ungrateful? You are nothing but a stiff, cold, unbending, whiny brat who throws a tantrum every time something does not go precisely his way! You only ever bothered to leave your damn piano to freeze someone with a look and remind him of his place."

  They sat in cold silence, glaring at each other, before Elam finally broke the ice. "Say what you came to say, and then leave, John. You already caused a spectacle with one argument, I will not permit a second one. Father can spoil you and fawn over you all he likes; I no longer care. I have Ekaterina now."

  Johnnie bit back further barbs, reminding himself he was here to help Elam, not succumb to a childish urge to punch him in his damned face. "I was honest in what I said—Jesse would like you to perform at the small, private party he is hosting next month. I refuse to believe you will not do it; you never turn down an opportunity to be fawned over."

  "As I said, I have Ekaterina now. I do not care about anything else, least of all a silly obsession. These things always pass."

  Johnnie might want to punch Elam, but he wanted to kill Ekaterina. He and Elam had never gotten along, even when he had believed himself in love with Elam—but Elam did love piano, heart and soul. To take that from him was beyond cruel.

  Never mind poor Rita, stoically carrying on the entire evening while the man she loved fawned over another woman and treated Rita as a stranger.

  He looked at Elam in disgust and said, "You giving up piano is about as likely as me giving up my mysteries."

  Elam sneered. "Ah, yes, something dear, dear J
ohnnie would never dream of giving up. Why should he care Father sits around in his study, worried sick for hours after being told you have nearly been killed or kidnapped yet again. What Johnnie wants, Johnnie must have." Elam raised his glass in mocking toast. Then he set it down and smirked in a way that never boded well for his victims. "Oh, but wait. I am mistaken. You seem to be missing a shadow. I guess Johnnie did not get everything—"

  Johnnie was up and around the table before he had even realized he had moved, yanking Elam up and shoving him hard into the pillar by their table. Elam's eyes popped open wide, but Johnnie only knocked him against the pillar again when he tried to speak.

  "Shut up," Johnnie hissed. "Just shut the fuck up."

  He shoved Elam roughly aside, not caring as he spilled to the floor, then turned sharply on his heel and stalked from the ballroom, ignoring the cries of his father, Phil, desperate just to get away.

  Out in the hallway, he tucked himself into an alcove. Slumping against the wall, he buried his face in shaking hands and tried to draw slow, deep breaths. He could not do this—pretend as though everything were normal when it felt like some piece of him had been torn away, when he kept expecting to see a familiar smirk whenever he turned his head.

  But the smirk was gone, along with the hazel eyes, the curls, the silly cap.

  How dare Elam be so damned malicious when Johnnie had spent this entire wretched night trying to help the ass—

  Would the night never end? Or was he going to be forced to live this nightmare forever?

  Let the bastard rot, he thought. He would not endure being mocked and ridiculed because he had fallen in love—

  Johnnie cut the thought off and tried to think of something else.

  A soft touch made him jerk, and Johnnie slammed his head and elbow against the wall, swearing.

  "Sorry!" Rita said, wincing. "Are you all right, Johnnie?"

  Rubbing his elbow, Johnnie mustered a smile. "I am fine. Can I help you with something?"

  "I wanted to be certain you were all right," Rita said, frowning. "The very moment he remembers me, I am going to give him a piece of my mind he will not soon forget. I cannot believe that is how he acts around his brother!"

  Johnnie smiled more genuinely at that. "Thank you, but I am afraid it would do no good, and to be fair, I am not much nicer to him. Elam has never cared for me, and I never figured out how to fix that—then I simply stopped caring."

  "He is just jealous," Rita said. "Honestly, I have never seen him so, but it pours off him in waves. He is over a hundred, he should know better. I will speak with him, and if he does not apologize—well, he will wish he was still cursed!" She patted his arm. "Meeting you, and knowing some of the things he has said, gotten upset about, it is not really surprising to see that he is jealous of you. So many of the things that trouble him, come so easily to you. Still, that is no excuse. For now, on his behalf, I do apologize, Johnnie. He went too far."

  "As I say, we are both very good at hurting each other," Johnnie replied. "But thank you. If you do yell at him, only let me witness."

  Rita laughed. "As you wish."

  "Thank you," Johnnie said, and took her hands, affectionately kissing the knuckles. "I think you will be a fine sister."

  "I hope so," Rita said. "I still cannot believe my lover is the Alucard Desrosiers. I fear I should have figured it out, and feel rather stupid that I did not."

  Johnnie flinched. "I can tell you quite honestly that it is very easy to miss what is right in front of our faces, especially if we are half-hoping never to know it."

  Rita looked at him in understanding, and more kindness than Johnnie could bear. She reached up to hug him. "I truly am sorry he hurt you, and I am so very sorry indeed that something has gone so wrong between you and your bodyguard. I know—I know what it is like to love someone who is never wholly honest with you, who always holds something back. I hope that everything is soon set to rights."

  Not trusting himself to speak, Johnnie only nodded as she drew back. When he could speak again, he said, "I do hope the idiot comes to his senses soon. I admit I cannot wait to see his face."

  Laughing, Rita said, "I am not honestly certain with whom he will be most displeased. Oh!" She clapped her hands together. "I remembered what you said, about an object probably being what put the curse on him. I saw him wearing a watch; it was very large, very heavy. Ellie hates such things, because they must be taken off whenever he wants to play or otherwise they get in the way. It was handsome, but not at all Ellie."

  "He probably wore it once just to please Ekaterina, and sealed his own fate," Johnnie said. "You have a good eye." He buried self-recrimination until he could face it, because there just was not time now to hate himself for failing so miserably in so many ways right now.

  He leaned against the wall again, sinking himself into the mystery. "I wish we knew the motive, for I feel that it cannot be as simple as making certain she married him for the title and wealth. There are better families."

  "But none that would take her," Rita said doubtfully. "Some of the older ladies spoke to me; they kept saying I was much prettier, and I had not needed to wait for modern science to fix it. And for all that he is a Dracula, her father is not all that he could be, at least according to the Established Traditions." She rolled her eyes. "So, you say she could have done better, but I am not so certain of that." She shrugged, then added wryly, "Not that I have much room to talk. If I had not been playing Chopin's Fantasie-Impromptu that night, I would not now be attempting to win back my secret Alucard lover."

  Johnnie latched onto that, kicking himself for not asking sooner how exactly they had met. He really was losing his touch—if, he thought morosely, he had ever had a touch at all. "What precisely is it you do, where you work?"

  Rita smiled. "I play piano. Most of it is the silly stuff you always hear at resorts and other such places. At night, I back up the singer. But before the show starts, and late in the evening, I am permitted to do as I like for the most part. It was during one of those late hours that he walked in." Her smile softened with memory. "I saw him well before he saw me; I was just finishing up a silly little piece I like to play, before I moved into the Fantasie-Impromptu. When I finished, I looked up and saw him watching me. Right there beside the stage; I half thought he was going to jump up on the stage. But he only asked if I would play him Music Box Dancer, and then he asked if he could buy me a drink."

  "Mm," Johnnie said, "and you have been putting up with him for twenty years? I am duly impressed."

  "He is not half so tense with me," Rita mused, then grimaced, suddenly looking afraid. "I worry now that maybe he never meant for me to be here—it may be that I am the one he is most angry at when he comes out of the curse—"

  Johnnie laid a hand on her shoulder, reassuring her gently, "My lady, I sincerely doubt that. If he wanted to marry you, and was going to ask father about it, then he planned on bringing you here. I promise you that when he comes out of the curse, the first thing he will do is throw a tantrum. Then he will attempt to murder Ekaterina. Then he will round on me, simply because he will not be able to tolerate you came to me for help."

  Rita rolled her eyes, and muttered, "He had better be too busy with me for all that nonsense."

  "But, it is very interesting—and good for us—that you play," Johnnie went on. "I should have asked before, because of course Ellie would never settle for less than a lady who plays as well as he." Johnnie took her hand, and tucked it into the crook of his arm, then turned to lead her back to the ballroom. "I think, my lady, that when the time is right and you play—that will be all we need to break the curse. But I do not want to upset the balance too much before we know what we are dealing with."

  "Of course," Rita replied, but before she could say anything further, Phil and Zach came spilling out of the ballroom, and from the looks on their faces, they had some interesting news to share.

  "She could be a necromancer," Phil announced as they reached Johnnie and Ri
ta. "Phoenix—"

  Johnnie startled at that name. "You know Phoenix—never mind. Not now. What did you learn?"

  Phil smiled briefly, then said, "Phoenix said he had heard rumors lately of a rogue necromancer, but he doesn't take pupils, and neither does Ceadda. He also got in touch with some necromancers he knows in the UK, but no luck there either."

  "Ekaterina's family lived in Italy for half a century," Johnnie said grimly. "She could have learned it then, and no one there would breathe a word. She would have been rather young for a necromancer, though, especially one of the skill it would seem she could be." He frowned thoughtfully.

  Zach added, "Her parents mentioned Italy, how much they all loved it and were loathe to return home for her father to properly take up the mantle of Dracula. They said Ekaterina especially was livid over their departure. But, out of nowhere, she suddenly loved it here. Her mother said it was like she hated it one day, adored it the next. They were relieved, and did not ask questions. I cannot tell you how many times they told me she is 'mercurial, but a good girl'."