Stage Fright (Bit Parts)

by Scott, Michelle

  Creeping across the lobby felt criminal. My senses were on high alert, and I noted everything from a lingering trace of disinfectant in the air to the way the red security lights made Perry’s cheeks look rosy.

  Perry opened the door marked STAIRS and immediately slammed it shut again. “Oh, God,” he moaned.

  I pushed past him and opened the door. A janitor lay on his stomach, but his head had been twisted around so that his face pointed to the ceiling. The blood smeared on his cheeks looked like chocolate syrup in the red light.

  I gagged, but Perry spewed his dinner into a garbage bag hanging on the janitor’s cart. He groaned and heaved again. “This is why I’m only a sidekick,” he muttered, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

  I patted his shoulder as my eyes darted around the space. “At least the janitor wasn’t turned rogue.”

  “No, but if Marcella was here, there’ll be more than one body, and more than one rogue.” He took a final look at the security guard, made the sign of the cross, and shut the door again. “Besides, for all we know, she could still be in the building. I’m calling Isaiah.” He took his phone from his pocket and dialed.

  As much as I hated to wait, Perry was right. If Marcella was around, we’d never take her out. Silver stakes or not.

  Perry snapped his phone shut. “He’s not answering. Let’s get back to the car before Marcella shows up.”

  I reluctantly followed him across the lobby, but as I did, I spotted the one thing I hadn’t noticed before: a scarf tangled in the branches of a potted fichus. Hands shaking, I yanked it free. The color was impossible to determine in the strange light, but only cashmere could be that soft. My mind skipped back to the parked car I’d spotted earlier. Dear God, had that been a Jaguar?!

  I raced out of the building and up the street. Sure enough, it was the XKR, and it was locked and empty. I swore and kicked a tire. Why the hell had Andrew come down here? I glanced up at the galleria, wondering.

  You saved me, now it’s time for me to save you.

  Andrew’s words jolted me like the click of a trigger. Suddenly, there wasn’t enough air in the world to fill my lungs. That teasingly familiar voice I’d heard over Andrew’s phone had been Victor. Victor who was staying in one of the luxury apartments on the fifth floor of this building.

  Andrew had gone to Victor, the one person he’d thought could save me from Caleb. But Victor wouldn’t work for free. No vampire would. Victor would want something in return.

  A moan escaped my lips. Andrew was trading his shine for my safety.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I’d raced up two flights of stairs before Perry made it up one. “Cassie!” His furious stage whisper echoed off the cement walls. “Get back here! Cassie!!”

  In the stairwell, every footstep echoed. Deciding that stealth was out of the question, I went for speed, climbing as quickly as I could. I didn’t pause for a moment, not even when Perry breathlessly begged me to slow down.

  I reached the third floor landing when a clang and a clatter stopped me in my tracks. “Perry?” Fighting vertigo, I leaned over the handrail. “Perry, you okay?!” Another bang. Shit!

  The hit came so suddenly, I didn’t have time to react. One moment, I was heading back towards Perry, and the next, I nearly took a header down the stairs. Arms pin-wheeling, I fought for balance. The stakes slipped from my fingers, pinging against the handrails before landing with a clatter far below.

  Something came at my neck. Fangs dragged across my skin before a violent blast of white light drove them away. Once again, a silver cross had saved me.

  The rogue howled and clawed at its face, but it didn’t flee. The thing must have been newly made because it still looked very human. This time, the victim had been a security guard. Wrist restraints dangled from his belt. Blood smeared over his chest, and his uniform was half torn off.

  I fled back down the stairs while the monster regrouped. After a dozen steps, the rogue came at me again, throwing its body against mine and knocking me flat on my stomach. My ribs gave an agonized creak, and the squirt gun cracked, holy water leaking down my leg. The creature’s snarls ripped through my head. Panicked, I kicked as hard as I could, catching him in the knee, and momentarily backing him off. When I spotted one of my stakes a few stairs down, I whimpered in relief and crawled to reach it.

  The rogue grabbed my foot. I tried to shake it off, but it began dragging me backwards up the steps. I fought harder, stretching as far as I could to reach the stake below me. I slipped my foot out of my shoe, and in the split second of freedom, snatched the stake before sharp fangs penetrated my calf. Instinctively, I rolled and kicked again, this time getting the creature in the jaw. When it let go, I clenched my abs as tightly as I could, doing an uphill sit-up that would have made Andrew proud. Then I plunged my stake into the vampire’s heart.

  A blast of hot, dry air and a shower of powdery gray showed that I’d hit the mark. Keeping a firm hand on the stake, I got to my feet and hustled towards Perry. He was sandwiched in-between two rogues who battled each other for the right to take first blood. Perry’s face was tight with fear, but the stake in his right hand snaked its way up to the vulnerable neck of the vampire he faced.

  Without hesitating, I drove my stake into the vampire’s back. As it fumbled to pull it out, I shoved the monster over the guard rail. It landed with a crunch several floors below, and within moments, the smell of toasted vampire drifted upwards. Perry spun and thrust his stake into the vamp behind him. The monster’s eyes went wide with horror before the bang and crack of its explosion.

  Perry’s knees gave out and he slumped to the floor. Panting hard, I knelt next to him. The firework-like residue of smoking vampire burned my eyes.

  “Shit!” Perry pressed his hands to his face. “If the city is depending on us to rescue it, then it’s in a world of trouble.” He laughed.

  I laughed too, trying to smother the sound. I should be home sacked out in front of the television, not playing vampire hunter, but I continued to laugh. My poor, bruised ribs ached with each snicker, but still, I kept on laughing.

  The closer we got to the fifth floor, the more my knees shook. With every turn of the stairs, I worried that we’d be met with another rogue. One that looked like Andrew.

  Half a flight from the fifth level, I really began to fret. What if Marcella drained the shine from everyone living in those apartments? We could open the door to find an army of rogues waiting for us. Still, I wasn’t leaving the building without Andrew.

  I hurried onwards. No matter how many times I wiped my palms on my jeans, they were still too sweaty to keep a grip on the handrail. I listened hard, hoping to hear Andrew, but the only sounds were our footsteps and Perry’s labored breathing.

  Perry had been sucking wind for the last two floors. When he reached me, he sat on the top step. “I need a minute.”

  “You don’t have to do this,” I said yet again. “You can go back to the lobby and try to call Isaiah.” Perry had tried a few times to call from the stairwell, but it was fruitless. The cement walls blocked his signal.

  Just like every other time, he refused. “Til death do us part, Cassie.”

  He’d meant it as a joke, but it gave me a chill. “Don’t say that!”

  “Sorry.” He stood with great effort, his knees cracking. “Let’s do this.

  The door leading to the fifth floor had its own security lock. Hands trembling, I slid Elena’s passkey through the reader. The click of the opening door sounded like the first nail being driven into my coffin.

  “Cassandra!”

  My eyebrows shot up at the familiar voice, and Perry gave a muted cry of alarm. Victor stood next to me. He’d moved so quickly and silently I’d never heard him coming.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded. Before I could answer, the vampire picked me up and carried me down several flights of stairs. He gently set me on my feet. “Marcella’s in the building. Get out of here!”

  “No!
Not until I have Andrew! I know all about the deal he’s making with you but don’t do it!” I begged. “Andrew doesn’t know what he’s asking for.”

  “He knew exactly what he was asking for,” Victor said.

  Knew? I swallowed. Was I too late? Had Victor already taken Andrew’s shine?

  “When he called me, I invited him to my apartment.” Victor brushed the bangs from my face with one, cold finger. “It turns out that we both wanted the same thing: to keep you safe.”

  “And?” My voice trembled.

  “I turned him down. I’m not interested in your friend’s shine.” Victor’s red eyes roved hungrily over me. He backed me into a corner of the landing and pressed hard against me. “Not when yours is so captivating.” His finger dropped from my hair to trace my jaw. When it moved to my throat, I cringed. “If I’d met you in New York, I would have forced myself on you.” For a moment, his red eyes burned into mine. Then he took a deep, shuddering breath and dropped his hand. “But I don’t want you in that way. Hedda’s right. The only way to take a human’s shine is if they offer it to you.”

  “Thank you,” I said. The word came out like a breathy prayer.

  “Before I met you, I thought of humans only in terms of my needs. I never realized how precious their souls are, or how special humans could be.”

  “If I ever did sell my shine to a vampire, you would have been the one I picked.”

  His lips twisted in a wry smile as he backed away. “A very small consolation, but I’ll take it.”

  I looked up towards the fifth floor. “I want to get Andrew. Where is he?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know,” Victor said. “I told him to stay in my apartment while I took care of the man who was out to harm you. When I returned, he was gone.” He whipped his head up, cocking his ear to listen to a sound only a vampire could hear. “Marcella’s upstairs.” He listened a second longer. “So is your friend.”

  The blood drained from my face. “NO!!”

  “Don’t worry. He’s still alive.” Victor eyed me sternly. “I’ll fetch him, but you are to stay here. Understand?”

  Perry clomped down the stairway. “Cassandra! There you are. I’d thought you’d disappeared on me!”

  Victor’s eyes flicked towards Perry, taking in the crucifix and silver-lined stakes. “Stay put, you plump, little vampire slayer. I’ll handle this.”

  “Thank God,” Perry said, sinking down once more.

  Without another word, Victor vanished up the stairs. I was sorely tempted to follow, but the memory of Marcella at my neck made me hesitate. “Do you think he can kill her?”

  “No. Capture, maybe, but not kill,” Perry said. “Remember the vampire’s prime directive?”

  Oh, shit. Vampires couldn’t kill other vampires. “I thought that Marcella had already been condemned to death!”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s up to Bertrand, Hedda’s maker, to finish her off. And I know Bertrand will want Hedda there to watch him do it.”

  Good point. The best Victor could do was restrain her. Still, Victor could get Andrew away from her. Right?

  I’d almost convinced myself of that when Andrew’s scream filled the stairway.

  I took the stairs two at a time and reached the Muse before Andrew screamed again. The gallery’s lobby was dark and silent. Even the red eyes of the security cameras were off. Smoke stung my eyes. The place stank of burning trash.

  My hands and feet were ice cold, but trails of sweat ran down my back. Thinking that Bleak Street memorabilia was stacked everywhere, I inched forward with my arms outstretched, desperate to find a single artifact. Something, anything, that would power me up and give me a chance against Marcella.

  As I neared the gallery, the smell of burning trash intensified. The flickering, orange light came from a large bonfire which burned in the belly of a monolithic sculpture. Dancing flames made flickering shadows on the wall. Piled around the fire were crates from the Bleak Street.

  Marcella sat on a crate near the fire. Her skin was no longer the blackened ash of a burned marshmallow. Once more, it was smooth and flawless. No doubt, she had the security guard, the janitor, and all of her other victims to thank for that.

  “Do it again!” Marcella ordered.

  Andrew appeared from the shadows. Limping badly, he grabbed something from the nearest crate and flung it into the fire. I clamped my hands over my mouth. Marcella was making him destroy everything that had come from the Bleak.

  Victor stood in attendance, wheedling like a father trying to persuade a headstrong toddler to go to bed. “Marcella, be reasonable. I know you’re enjoying yourself, but you’re going to set off the smoke alarms.”

  When Isaiah’s sister pounced on Andrew, knocking him to the ground, Victor hauled her away. “Marcella! Stop this nonsense at once!”

  She hissed at him. Even in the dim light, her fangs flashed like lightning. She darted towards Andrew once more, pinning him in a lethal embrace. Andrew moaned and struggled. “Hold still,” she crooned. She stroked his hair as if he were a scared kitten.

  I swallowed, considering my strategy. Without a weapon, I was helpless.

  The smoke from the fire, which had been burning my eyes, finally got the better of me. I choked back a cough, but it was enough to draw Marcella’s attention. Victor ordered me out of the room even as Isaiah’s sister raced to meet me. In a second, her fangs were at my neck. “Charles told me you’d come! That all I needed to do was wait here for you!”

  So Charles had figured out my secret. The man was a bastard, but a clever one. He knew that I would run to the Muse to collect artifacts from the Bleak Street before they were all sold off, and he must have wet his pants with excitement when Andrew showed up here as well. Holding my best friend hostage was even more insurance that I’d show up. I glanced around the gallery, wondering where Charles was lurking.

  “Build up that fire!” she ordered Andrew. “Let Cassandra watch our fun!” She pressed her cold lips to my ear. “After I finish burning these crates, I’ll feast on you.” Her smile chilled me to the bone. “No more secret weapons for you.”

  I struggled, as helpless as a spider in the hand of a cruel third grader.

  “Let her GO!!” Victor grabbed Marcella from behind and pulled her off of me. Immediately, she flipped him over her head and sent him spinning into the burning embers. Orange sparks scattered like fireflies into the air.

  I scrambled over to where Andrew leaned against a crate. We hugged tightly, ducking together as a body sailed overhead. Marcella crashed against the wall, knocking several paintings askew. Broken bricks and crumbled mortar rained down. She fell with a thump to the floor, and for a moment, didn’t move. Before I could get my hopes up, she sprang to her feet. “Don’t worry. I’m fine.” She paused to chuck me under the chin before launching herself at Victor once more.

  Victor dodged, and Marcella skidded to a halt. Furious, she picked up a massive, copper sculpture, holding it over her head as if it was no heavier than a bundle of sticks. With an outraged shriek, she flung the thing at Victor.

  Victor dodged, and the sculpture crashed into the windows. A thousand wine glasses dropping at once couldn’t have created such a racket. Andrew grabbed my hand and pulled me to the floor, sheltering me with his body. Still, I was peppered with glass. Tiny cuts left warm trails of blood on my skin. In the dim firelight, I couldn’t see Andrew very well, but I felt stickiness on his arm. “You okay?” I asked.

  “Never been better.” His laugh sounded unhinged.

  Either the laugh or the blood alerted the Marcella. She was at my side in an instant, eagerly licking and sucking at my wounds to get as much blood as she could. “Ah, he was right! You’re filled with power! I hear my voice returning!”

  She might have heard it, but I sure didn’t. Her voice was as discordant as ever.

  “Leave her ALONE!” Victor’s eyes blazed red, and his fangs were fully extended. He yanked Marcella away from me and swung her at the wall.
Marcella fell in a heap. While she was still down, Victor clamped his hands on either side of her skull and, gritting his teeth, tightened his vice-like grip. Until now, Victor had been adhering to the vampire’s code, but no longer. He meant to kill her. The snap of Marcella’s breaking skull echoed like a pistol shot.

  Finally, Marcella lay still. Victor shakily got to his feet, backing away from the body. Andrew wrapped me in a protective hug.

  Marcella sprang up with a laugh. “Are all the Stuyvesants such weaklings?” she taunted.

  Victor roared and charged like a bull, diving low to catch her around the legs. She leapt over him, gaining so much air that the top of her head nearly collided with the ceiling two stories above us. Victor swore furiously.

  Marcella went for me, but Victor intercepted with a vicious tackle. She effortlessly shrugged him off. She picked him up by an arm and a leg and held him over her head. With a grunt, she launched him at the ceiling, laughing when he plunged to the ground. She nearly tossed him out a window, but he caught his balance and leaped to safety. Unfortunately, each time Victor fell, he got to his feet more slowly than the time before.

  “He’s losing,” Andrew muttered.

  If I could get ahold of something from the Bleak, I could lend a hand. Leaving Andrew, I crawled to the first open crate. It was empty. The second one had been nailed shut, and no amount of tugging opened it. A maddening glimmer of Bleak Street energy trickled through a crack in the slats. There was power inside, but it was unreachable. I made my way to a third crate.

  Victor once again collided a wall. This time, when he dropped to the floor, he didn’t move. Andrew scrambled across the room to meet him. Desperately, I tried to pry off the top of the third crate. Splinters of wood drove deep into the flesh of my palms, and two of my fingernails ripped off. Still, the lid remained in place. My fingers throbbed, but I refused to give up. When I attacked the box again, I left bloody handprints on the wood.