Jeremy swiped his mouth on his black linen shirt sleeve and looked at me quizzically.
“Yeah, good so far, but the show hasn’t begun and there’s always at least one catastrophe. I think med students get more sleep than I do.”
His elfin grin was too cute.
“I’ll help you,” I offered shyly, stepping toward him.
His look became guarded. “You and Meg are a big help.” His head swiveled around as he moved away. “What’s taking her so long?”
Not too subtle, Jeremy.
“I’ll go help her,” I said stiffly.
“Uh, thanks.”
I flipped a careless wave that said I don’t care. I would not tear up. It was hard to swallow; my throat felt tight. Rejected! Why?
I found Meg, and two minutes later, with minimal conversation, we located the duffel. She ran it to Jeremy. I stayed back, eyeing them coolly. I watched his eyes flicker over her. He touched her hand before he hastened away. I tried to put the image out of my mind. Meg went right back to work, apparently unaware that she’d just won the grand prize.
When the runway show was about to begin, Meg and I sat on a trunk, sipping water. There were to be no noises from backstage until the music started. Now more than ever, I wanted this over with. I didn’t want any more close or semi-close encounters with Jeremy again if I could help it. And there was only one way to ensure that—get rid of Arkady.
“Where’s Mr. Romanov?” I whispered to Reynaldo, who was winking and flirting with the hair stylist. “He did come, didn’t he?” I poked him to get his attention. “Reynaldo?”
“What?!” he snapped, annoyed at the interruption.
“Mr. Romanov. He’s here, right?”
“He’s watching the show by live feed from an office.”
“Won’t he bow and wave at the end?”
Reynaldo looked horrified. “Never! Go into that room with all those people? Who knows what germs could be out there?” He turned back to smile at Andre. I doubt that was his real name—so Euro. I’ll bet his real name was Myron. Or Charlie.
When Reynaldo walked away, Meg whispered to me, “The offices! This couldn’t be more perfect! He’s already back there!”
“Sure, but how are we going to get back there?” I snapped, a little unfairly. Jeremy’s diss wasn’t her fault. “We’re supposed to stay here until we’re needed.”
“I’m sure we’ll think of something.” Meg didn’t look too sure, but maybe inspiration would hit one of us.
Music suddenly blared, making everyone jump and signaling the start of the show. We were on call, to sit there until summoned. In the meantime, I enjoyed the chance to just sit. Surprisingly, my bird feet were holding up well. But I’d trade them for two human feet loaded with blisters and boils and broken toes.
The Temple was the backdrop for the show, the theme being Egyptian Goddess. All the models were dressed in form-fitting bronze, deep lapis, and coral silk sheaths. The last dress, with Meg’s feathers all over it, would be the climax. I couldn’t help being excited. This was where I wanted to be—just under different circumstances. More specifically, not fresh off a rejection, or trying to eye up a mummy, or keeping temptation at arm’s length. Suddenly, I thought, I can’t wait to start classes at FIT. It would be a different life, a new start. If I survived this whole mess, maybe Jeremy would give me a reference—even if he wouldn’t give me anything else.
I found myself tapping my feet to the heavy beat of the techno music that blared out of the backstage speakers. It was making the floor vibrate. Was this what Meg and Jeremy subjected themselves to at those club shows? No thanks.
I recognized the song. It was something Meg played in our dorm room. Glancing at her, I saw that her eyes were closed and her head swayed in perfect rhythm with the music. Her lips mouthed the words. I stopped staring at her and scanned the room. Jeremy was standing by the stage door, doing the exact same thing. The exact words, the exact same sway. It was almost eerie.
After a few moments, he opened his eyes and searched the room, stopping when his gaze found Meg still in her music-induced trance. Slender models with taut limbs and perfect faces passed in front of him, but he didn’t notice them. He only saw Meg, and his eyes drank her in. I’d seen the look before. He really liked her. They’ve only exchanged a handful of words since we reconnected … I bit my lip and looked away.
The evening wore on, and the show seemed to be a success. Near midnight, Jeremy spoke to the audience and wrapped things up with a champagne toast, finger foods, and gift bags, and then Reynaldo came running over, out of breath. His makeup was starting to smudge.
“Jeremy sent me to tell you that Mr. Arkady needs ice, glasses, and two diet sodas brought to him. NOW. The Director’s office, just down the hall. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going. I can’t believe he hates the hair!” He moaned and sniffed as he screamed at Andre. Meg shot me an excited smile.
We hopped off the trunk, rounded up everything, and made our way through the backstage maze. We ran, as fast as a girl can run in stiletto-heeled boots carrying a bag of ice, to the office. Meg knocked on the door.
Jeremy answered. “Hey you two.” He refused to look at me.
Wimp! I was the embarrassed one, the one who got rejected!
He stepped back to allow us in. Arkady was sitting at a massive oak desk, surrounded by TV monitors, his back to us. There was no sound except his raspy breathing.
“Put it all on the table, please,” said Jeremy, reaching for the vibrating phone in his pocket.
“Let’s do it now,” said Meg’s low voice in my ear. There was only Arkady and Jeremy. This would probably be our best chance. Maybe our only chance.
I nodded. I pointed to Arkady, then to myself. I’d handle him; I’d leave Jeremy to her. She nodded, regret etched in her eyes. It was a sneaky, mean thing to have to do, kind of like hypnotizing him against his will. But enthralling Jeremy seemed too intimate for me to do now. Besides, if he had a choice, it was too obvious he’d choose Meg to vamp him. And that left me with Arkady. I felt the bile rise in my throat. I was not touching him!
Jeremy grabbed the doorknob. “I’ve gotta run. Reynaldo’s flipping out over the hair situation. You two set up the drinks and leave. Lock the door behind you.” He shouted in Arkady’s direction, “I’ll be right back, Mr. Romanov.” Mummy man didn’t notice. Jeremy ran out.
Was our luck beginning to change? Meg looked at me and nodded almost imperceptibly. The TV monitor had a special screen which magnified the images immensely. With hesitant steps I walked around to the front of the desk so that I was facing Arkady. Even though he was alone and the room was warm, he was enveloped as usual in a fedora hat, Burberry scarf, and Italian leather gloves. But he wasn’t wearing his thick, reflective glasses. I removed mine and gave him the full stare.
“Get up,” I commanded. I wanted to say something nastier to him, considering he’d called Meg stubby and said I had big feet. But nothing came to mind.
Meg’s voice was sultry, beguiling. “It’s time to go. Hades is waiting.” How could anyone resist her?
Arkady never flinched, although he did sway in his chair trying to see around me.
I leaned down so that when his gaze shifted, he’d see only me.
Meg leaned over the desk. “Come with us. Now!” she yelled.
“Eh?” His head bobbed up and he looked confused. I was so close to him now, I could see that his eyes were milky white. It brought back the horrifying images of when my cat died. Her eyes had glazed with the same opaqueness. With a palsied hand, he brushed us away.
He was deaf and practically blind.
“Hmmm. Having a bit of trouble, ladies?”
We jerked up.
Hades was looking at some Mayan artifacts. The disdain on his face was clear. “Primitive junk,” he mu
ttered before turning to us. “But you look stunning, mon coeur.” His eyes flickered appreciatively over me. I felt chilled to the bone. “And Margaret. Good improvement.”
He was so rude.
“Need a little help?” His smile was evil and slick.
“Our powers won’t work on someone who can’t hear or see us, Hades.” Meg sounded only mildly perturbed. This meant she was ready to explode at any second.
“I must have forgotten to mention that. How remiss of me.” Hades dragged a finger along the cases, grimaced at the light coating of dust, and conjured a wet cloth to wipe his hands. With a careless flick, it was gone.
“I thought you said that Arkady made a deal with you for longevity,” I retorted. I gritted my teeth to keep myself from calling him the words my mother would disown me for.
His eyebrows raised. “He did. And I gave him longevity. Arkady is pushing 349 years old. It would be 350 next month.” His grin was malevolent.
“But look at him!” said Meg, backing away a pace. “He looks like he’s been dead for at least a hundred years!”
Hades’ smile was expansive. “He asked for a long life. He got it. He didn’t stipulate that he wanted to remain youthful. It’s always the little details one must remember. Be careful what you wish for—that’s our motto.”
So all those strange treatments weren’t for staying healthy—rather, Arkady was trying to turn back the clock. What a revelation that was.
Hades made a full circle of the office, barely glancing now at the books and objects on the shelves and tables. “You’re not using your gifts to their full potential,” he said softly. “Come, girls, surely your wiles and imagination and natural charm should make this easy.”
Like anything connected to him or this whole deal could ever be easy. Meg and I remained silent.
“If you need my assistance, tell me. But it will cost you.”
That last bit was directed at me.
I exhaled sharply. I was tired, I’d been rejected by Jeremy, and I didn’t want to be played with anymore.
“You’re here, just take him now,” I snapped. “It’s not like he’d notice. Then we all go home and everyone’s happy.”
Hades looked taken aback. “That would violate your contract. You have to do this. Or, are you conceding?” He held out a graceful hand like he wanted me to waltz with him. “Then we shall leave.”
Meg screamed “No!” and slapped his hand away. “We’ll do it! Just go away!”
His eyes narrowed and his mouth thinned.
Angry God plus Big Mouth Roomie equals Dire Consequences.
We were screwed yet again.
Under the Wonder Wheel
“What a night,” Jeremy said. He rubbed his slightly bloodshot eyes and ran his fingers through his hair, making the cowlick in back stand up.
I nodded sympathetically; the night had been dramatic for us too. After Hades left, Shar and I had talked about dragging Arkady to the portal; he couldn’t hear us or see us, and maybe he wouldn’t even know what was happening. But it seemed too complicated, not to mention violent. Shar was now busy relieving stress by arguing with one of the makeup artists over eye shadow.
Jeremy had seen Arkady home and then came back to help pack up the show. “I’m spent, but I’m too wound up to sleep,” he said, smiling at me.
“Me too,” I mouthed. I was glad I hadn’t had to use the Siren power on him tonight, but still, I wondered if his attention was real … or if my power was somehow at work. I knew I’d never used it on him deliberately, but I’d become wary of everything to do with Hades, the gifts, and the contract. Jeremy didn’t act like this with Shar; if anything, he was a little remote with her. So, if I were to actually use my powers on him—and deep down I knew I would have to, eventually—would he still feel the same way about me when I released him? Everyone we’d done that to so far seemed to forget us and move on. I couldn’t help but wonder if that would happen with Jeremy. Since it would amuse Hades, the answer was probably yes.
“I need time away from here. Do you want to go somewhere?” he asked.
I clapped my hands and smiled.
“This is gonna sound crazy, but let’s go to Coney Island.”
I needed breathing space; the apartment had been feeling oppressive lately, as if the walls and furnishings were taunting me. Hades owns you both. He’ll come for you …
I’d only been to Coney Island once. It was summer, and when I emerged from the subway onto Stillwell Avenue, the first thing that hit me was the smell of hot dogs, salt water, and fried foods, steeped by hot days and baked into the subway tiles and sidewalks. Being there would be as far removed from fashion and glamour and Hades and Arkady as I could get at this point.
“Go. Maybe you can find something out,” Shar said when I told her. She’d been pretty quiet most of the night. Jeremy and Reynaldo had kept us moving, but I could tell something was bothering her.
“Can’t I be off duty for five minutes?” I sighed.
“I’m not saying to use the gift or anything, but our time is seriously running out,” Shar reminded me. “Just keep your ears open, okay? And have fun.”
I squeezed her hand. “Happy New Year.”
“Let’s hope so,” she grumped.
The crash of the ocean was audible as Jeremy and I emerged onto the street from the subway station. At 6:30 a.m., the place was a virtual ghost town. We walked along the water toward the amusement area and looked out at the waves.
I watched light creep over the water, thinking, How am I going to get through the next few hours without talking?
“You know, I’m glad you wanted to come here. It’s nice to feel free, even for just a little while.” He jerked his head back in the direction of Manhattan. Its skyline was dimly visible from where we stood.
I nudged him so he would look at me. I nodded a me too at him.
“Yeah? It’s been a heck of a start for you and Shar. First QT, then the dress and Mr. Romanov’s personal interest. And you’ve been sick.”
“Better now,” I whispered cautiously, keeping my hushed tone bland and even.
“Not completely.” He put his finger to my lips. “Hush.” He took my hand and I shivered as a little jolt of excitement ran up my arm. We made our way over to the maze of shut-up concessions, forgotten games, and food stalls that still smelled strongly of stale cooking oil and potatoes.
I was tired of gestures and whispers. There was so much I wanted to say, to ask. I wanted to know if working in fashion was really what he wanted to do with his life. Not talking at least had one advantage—it gave me time to observe, and Jeremy didn’t seem happy. I wanted to look into his eyes and brush his hair from his forehead, but that had nothing to do with words …
I don’t want to risk telling him what to do, or let my intentions take over.
Then I had a flash of brilliance. Whipping out my cell phone, I brought up his number. I tapped buttons furiously and hit send. He grabbed for his phone, still in his shirt pocket, when it vibrated. With a flicker of annoyance he pulled it out, then broke into a smile when he realized it was me. He grinned and bent his head toward my face. His nose brushed my cheek for a moment.
“How long have you worked for Mr. Romanov?” he read out loud. I waited in suspense, but felt nothing sprout. Perfect! Texting didn’t count, so there’d be no more feathers today. Plus, this would count as the information gathering Shar was talking about—I multitasking!
“Seems like forever,” he mused. “A little over a year. And people are surprised I’ve lasted that long.”
I raised my now artfully waxed eyebrows at him.
“Come on, you see what the office is like. There aren’t a lot of people there, and the few that are don’t interact with Mr. Romanov that much. I’m his buffer.”
Shar and I ha
d noticed this too. I had to admit, if I looked like Arkady and had his secrets, I’d want to deal with as few people as possible, too. I nodded thoughtfully, puffing out a breath and watched it steam and curl into the nothingness of the now-blue sky and beach.
“I was actually at NYU—”
I squeezed his hand excitedly, and when he looked at me, I grinned goofily and poked myself in the chest before I could stop myself; it was something else we had in common.
“NYU? That’s right, you’ll be going there. It’s a great school.” His eyes, the same color as the sky, with their fluttering lashes, and his full lips slightly turned down, overwhelmed me. We walked for some minutes in silence.
“Not that you need this, but … ” He looked away. “Would you mind if I gave you some advice?”
I bobbed my head, and my fingers tightened around his.
“I know working at the House of Romanov looks like the beginning of a great opportunity for you. And for your friend. But finish up your internship, put it on your transcript, and then go to school. Don’t get stuck there.”
So I was right. He wasn’t happy—but still, it didn’t look like he was ready to move on. Sure, the job was demanding, but if he was P.A. to the infamous Arkady Romanov, traveled in those elite circles, and was going to NYU, didn’t he have it made?
“I left school to work for Mr. Romanov,” Jeremy continued. “Got placed there through the school’s work-study program. I requested a spot with the ACLU; instead, I became an intern at House of Romanov just like you.” He laughed mirthlessly, “I’m good at what I do. I’m a juggler—it’s how I managed to stay on top of my classes. At least at first.”
I rubbed his arm, encouraging him to go on.
“But this is where I am. Shar told me this isn’t your thing either.”
Sirenz Page 10
