The Fire Dancer

by Kristen Strassel

  “No.”

  “Really?” I asked. God, he was stubborn. “It won’t be a secret anymore in about four hours. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

  “If it’s not a big deal, then you can wait with everyone else.” He smirked.

  “I probably won’t even be ready to watch.” It would take everything I had to join the crowd as I was coming down from my performance. “When did you start doing this type of thing?”

  “Not too long after you were born. There were a few of us in Bethlem with special abilities. There was an outbreak of the flu at the hospital later that winter, and the staff left us to fend for ourselves. I couldn’t get sick, and there were a few people worth saving. Since there was no one to stop us, we left. We talked about the concept for months before we left, and we found a nightclub in Paris willing to host our show.”

  “How different is it from Macabre?”

  “Very. We’re limited now, with our technology. It’s taken away what makes us unique. All people have to sell now is sex.”

  “That’s not true.” It was Sin City, and sex was what people came for. “We have a lot of talented people in the cast.”

  “We do. But we’re all the same. People used to come to see the grotesque and the fantastic. Now it’s the superiority, the beauty of their movements. People envy you because you’re flawless and talented. Besides the fire, anyone could perform in our show, with enough hard work. We’re the only special ones.”

  “I never thought of it that way.” I still didn’t agree with him.

  “Blade is coming tonight,” he said like it was an afterthought, picking up the program and placing it on the table. I snuggled under a blanket, in my sweats. Cash wore something similar to his stage outfit all the time. Today it was black leather pants and a black button-down shirt. He didn’t need to draw attention to himself—black suited him just fine. But we knew were in for his dangerous side when he wore red.

  I froze. Blade and I hadn’t spoken since the night our kiss set Sunset Park on fire. I couldn’t be angry at him for his silence, I hadn’t tried to get in touch with him, either. Overwhelmed by my trip to Bethlem, my breakup with Rainey, and the sudden need to fight for my job, emotionally, I couldn’t handle anything else. But I thought about him every day. He’d become more of a daydream than reality, but for now, it was the perfect place for him.

  “He’s been asking about you,” Cash continued. “Don’t push him away, Holly.”

  He has? “I’m not pushing anyone away.”

  “We need him.” Cash went from dad to dictator in two point three seconds. “He needs guidance.”

  “So speaking of guidance, I was thinking...” I caught his gaze to gauge his reaction before I even said anything. It was a habit I formed with Rainey, since she usually knew what I was going to ask her. Cash could get in my mind, so he wouldn’t be that surprised about what I was going to say. One side of his mouth lifted, his usual relaxed amusement. “Maybe it would be better if I stayed here.”

  “Here?” he asked. Maybe he was surprised after all.

  “Yeah. This is a big place for one person.” I pushed back the blanket and stood up, circling the living room, my arms spread wide. “Don’t you want some company?”

  “What makes you think I’m lacking for company?” The smile fully spread across his face. I was going to get my way.

  “I don’t know. You never talk about anyone.” Now I was curious. Even Cash had to care about someone.

  Cash leaned back, running his hand over his beard. “I can assure you I’ve been with a woman more recently than you have.”

  “Ugh. You didn’t have to be gross about it.” I stopped, folding my arms as he laughed. It stung, but I knew he meant it in jest. “I thought maybe we could make up for some of the last two hundred or so years we missed out on.”

  “What you really mean is you’re running away from home and you need a place to hide out until you figure out what you want to do.”

  “Basically. So what do you say?” I wiggled my eyebrows at him, doing my best to convince him to cave.

  “The basement’s made from concrete, but I’ll call the maintenance staff to have it fireproofed tomorrow.” His smile faded as my face lit up. “This isn’t a long-term solution, Holly.”

  “I know.” This would give me a chance to really get to know Cash. More than what he could tell me. To see how he lived. Neither of us were overly affectionate, but I really wanted to give him a hug. “I can’t stay with Lucille anymore. There’s too many ghosts there, and none of them are friendly.”

  “That’s why I said yes to this.” Cash stood and grabbed his jacket. “But don’t think I’m going to change anything I do to accommodate you. You have to adjust to my lifestyle.”

  “You won’t even know I’m here.” I looked around, realizing I wasn’t very familiar with my new home. “This place has a kitchen, right?”

  “A neglected one. But there’s also eight restaurants upstairs that will cater to your every whim.” Cash chuckled. I didn’t need to be able to read his mind to tell he was looking forward to me moving in. “You need to get ready for the show.”

  Tonight was the first night of the soft opening. The audience had no idea they were going to see Cash Logan.

  “Are you nervous?” I asked. All I had was a new routine, and my heart was in my throat. Wait until word got out about our new arrangement.

  Cash scoffed, shaking his head. “No.”

  “Excited?” This was a big undertaking. He had to feel something. I wasn’t sure the last time he performed in front of a live audience.

  “Anxious. The dress rehearsal went well. If I didn’t think we were ready, I wouldn’t have us going live. But the purpose of a soft opening is to work out the kinks.”

  “We have a great group.” No matter what they thought about me personally, nothing could take away from these performers’ talents. We didn’t have to be friends to be able to come together and work as a team. “I think we have something special.”

  Even if Cash didn’t.

  He waited for me in the doorway, and squeezed my hand when I reached him. “That’s true. We have you.”

  THERE WAS A LOT TO be giddy about as the models walked out from behind the curtain for the first time. They were dressed much like I was under my blazer; men and women in glittery pasties, thongs, and striped mismatched thigh highs. They high-stepped down the recently installed catwalk, faces blank behind their clown makeup and wild, teased hair.

  Two of the models, veteran acrobats disguised in face paint, stayed behind on the stage at the end of the number. After back flipping to the middle of the catwalk, the girl landed on the man’s back and balanced on his shoulders in a handstand. A trapeze lowered from the top of the tent, and the girl hooked her feet in it. The man rolled forward, then climbed up her body like a ladder as the swing raised them above the crowd. After he hooked his knees across the bar, he held on to his partner’s wrists, flipping her to her own swing. I was mesmerized by the movements of their bodies, everything in perfect synchronization.

  Katrinka stood next to me until it was her turn to go out on stage. She didn’t acknowledge me, although she had no problem talking shit about me when she didn’t think I could hear her. One of the many performers who was now forced to share her stage time with other dancers, she’d perform every other night, or something like that. I hadn’t paid attention to the new scheduling, because it didn’t apply to me. And there was nothing I could say to convince her I had nothing to do with it. Not that I tried very hard.

  Once she was on stage, no one in the audience would ever guess she had a gripe with the production. Her performance was graceful and beautiful as always, and I studied her as she maneuvered in her silks. I wanted to learn how to make my body move like that. I asked her once if we could train together, but she muttered something in Russian and stormed away from me. Maybe if she said yes, she’d be working tomorrow night. Karma had a funny way of being a bitch sometimes.r />
  The DJ had found a way to copy the original record version of I Put a Spell on You on to his computer, and I walked out in a dim spotlight to the sound of the needle in the groove of the vinyl. Pulling my top hat down to shield my face from the crowd until the music started, I had no room for error. I knew Blade was out there, and I couldn’t fall under his spell. Too much was on the line. Tossing the hat to the crowd, I moved my hips to the beat of the song, shimmying, twisting, dipping, and teasing as I took one layer off at a time.

  As the rehearsals went on, I’d come to an agreement with the DJ. He really, really wanted me to use the Marilyn Manson version of this song, so I compromised. The music changed as I swallowed the burning baton, the room electrified with synthesizers and flames.

  I pulled it off. I sent a silent thank you to Rainey, wherever she was, as I melted onto the stage at the end of the song, blanketed by darkness. A production assistant ran up and smothered me with the fire blanket. I returned to my dressing room, the smoke clearing from the stage behind me. By the time the lights came up, the only evidence that I performed was the fog that clung to the top of the tent.

  Cash hadn’t let anyone watch his rehearsals, and I was dying of curiosity to see what he’d do on stage that he’d been so secretive about. If I was going to watch him, I didn’t have much time to come down from my performance.

  My dressing room was full of flowers. At least three dozen roses overwhelmed my dressing table. The red, orange and yellow blooms were arranged to look like flames. I inhaled the scent as I approached, finding much needed peace in the velvety petals.

  “Do you like them?” I jumped at the sound of Blade’s voice.

  Clutching the blanket to my bare skin, I turned around to find him on my couch. Damn, he looked good tonight, in a suit jacket over his button-down shirt, and jeans. He tied his hair back up some sort of man bun and it was all I could do not to grab it, pull his head to the side and kiss his neck, and swallow him in licks of flames.

  “You can’t be in here right now,” I hissed, backing against the table, soot falling from my hair into the blooms.

  “Why not?” He walked toward me. I trembled beneath the blanket. My body ached for his touch, but there was no way I could handle it right now. My breaths became shallower with every step he took, the last one catching in my throat when he was close enough to run his finger along the top of my blanket. It left a trail, clearing the ash from my skin. “I can still feel your kiss on my lips,” he said.

  “But I didn’t hear from you for two weeks.” I should have walked away from him. I really should have.

  “I had things to take care of before I could see you again.” His finger hooked inside my blanket. “It killed me to stay away from you.”

  I clasped my hand over his to stop him from pulling it away. He was on the verge of breaking me into pieces, flames raining down all around us. There was no way he couldn’t feel my body quivering with the desire his touch brought to the surface of my skin. My lips warmed, thinking of sitting with him in Sunset Park. I could still feel that kiss, too. Everything was beginning to turn blue, like the hottest part of the flame. Blade jumped back, smoke trailing from his fingers.

  “Not now,” I whispered. “There’s only so much I can take.”

  Blade leaned forward, but didn’t touch me. His lips were so close to mine that my mouth started to water, craving their taste. “How do you know, unless you take a chance, Holly?”

  It sounded like he read from a script. “Have you talked to Cash?”

  Blade mashed his lips together, trying to conceal his smile. “Not about that.”

  It occurred to me that maybe we should tell him. Even if it was the last thing I wanted to talk to him about. He should know our attraction was explosive. I wondered if it would change his mind about whatever it was he wanted for us.

  My knees buckled. Sparks jumped off my skin like little fireflies on a kamikaze mission. I caught one on my finger. “We’ll burn this whole city down.”

  “Let it burn.” Blade’s knee moved between my legs. He picked a yellow flower out of the vase and ran it across my lips. “I’ll toast marshmallows in the flames.”

  The heat rose from my core. His wish was dangerously close to being my command. “It won’t absolve you of your sins.”

  “I’d only worry about that if I regretted what I’ve done.” His lips skimmed my neck. The blanket dropped from my fingers, exposing my breast. Blade circled my nipple with the rose. Fuck. I was going to explode. “You’re the only thing that matters to me.”

  Another emotion began to rise. Panic. Suddenly, this felt familiar, in the worst way possible. “Then you’ll understand that I need some space.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Blade backed away, his face black as ash. “That’s what I was giving you.”

  I had to choose my words carefully. I couldn’t push him away. Not for Cash’s sake, for mine. “After I perform, I’m raw. That’s the only way I can explain it. I need time to heal.”

  His face softened, and he met my eyes. No sign of contempt. “I understand,” he said softly. “It makes me feel that way, too. That’s when the bad stuff happens.”

  The tension that had built in my muscles released. “Too many bad things have happened.”

  “That’s for sure.” Blade shook his head, running his hand over his hair. “I shouldn’t have pushed you. But damn, it’s hard to stay away.”

  I pulled the blanket back up over my chest. “You’re the only person who understands.”

  “That makes it even worse.” Blade smiled sadly. He cocked his head, listening. “Cash hasn’t gone on yet. I’d like to see what he’s got up his sleeve.”

  “So would I.” I turned toward the mirror. Man, I was a mess. My hair had settled into clumps, soot and makeup streaked my face. “He hasn’t let anyone see his rehearsals. The performers won’t say a word. He must’ve threatened them within an inch of their lives.”

  Blade chuckled. “At least they were smart enough to take him seriously.”

  “Right?” I shimmied into my robe, kicking the fire blanket away, and scrubbed my skin with baby wipes. There wasn’t enough time for a shower before Cash’s performance. “Because Cirque Macabre loves its gossip.”

  Once I wiped enough filth away to leave the dressing room, Blade and I joined the small crowd of performers behind the backstage curtain. Cash stood at the back of the crowd, not acknowledging any of us. He added a dark red velvet blazer to his outfit, a black rose pinned to his lapel. He looked upward, like he was channeling another power. His lips moved slightly, soundlessly, and he knotted his fingers together in front of him, twisting them like a puzzle. Even Cash Logan got butterflies before show time.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great pleasure to introduce you to the greatest magician of our time, now in residence at Cirque Macabre...Cash Logan!”

  The crowd went wild. Cash was no fool. He let enough information slip to the media that the soft opening could start any night. Demand for tickets had gone through the roof and rumors began to swirl through the production that more nightly shows might be added. But it all hinged on what happened in the next forty-five minutes.

  Tinny, vaudeville-style music pumped through the PA system. Two models appeared from the shadows in sheer, shimmering body suits waving enthusiastically to the crowd as they took the stage. Those bitches had headdresses! Silver and white plumes framed their heads and dripped down their backs like angel wings. So gorgeous. And the cast thought I got preferential treatment.

  The music changed to something more fitting of a horror movie soundtrack as the lights fell. Only a red light pulsed, the girls on stage sparkling like blood dripped from their bodies. Cash appeared on the stage out of thin air, and the music stopped.

  “I bid you welcome.” His face was shrouded in shadow. One of the girls brought him a dome-covered platter. Doves escaped when he removed the lid, flying over the heads of the audience, and perching high in the tent. “T
onight you will see things that you can’t explain.”

  No one saw Cash climb the pole in the middle of the stage. In less than a blink of an eye, he’d risen to the rafters, sitting on one of the support beams with a dove on his finger. He kissed the bird on the head, flicking his finger to encourage it to fly away, then leaned forward and summersaulted back down to the stage.

  “Vegas, I want to bring back the classics. Sin City implodes its history, but I want to show you that old can still be beautiful. After all, Estelle here is seventy-four years old.” The audience laughed as he held his hand out to his assistant, who couldn’t have been more than twenty-five. “And I’m two hundred and fifty-seven.”

  That was no exaggeration. He winked to the audience, and they went along with the joke. Estelle and his other assistant began to walk around him with a heavy metal chain, wrapping it around his body. A few of the women in the audience hooted, asking if Cash would tie them up later. “It will be your turn soon, ladies.”

  Once he was impossibly tangled in the chains, a volunteer from the audience came up on stage to secure a huge padlock. Estelle held a vintage keychain, swinging it around on her finger until it flew into the crowd. She covered her mouth in an exaggerated manner, but I had a feeling it was no mistake. A meat hook lowered from the ceiling, grabbing Cash by the collar, suspending him in midair. He wiggled and struggled in the chains, his arms pinned against his sides. The assistants raised their arms, palms up, having no solution.

  “I don’t see what’s so special about this,” Sylvio muttered from behind me. “Other magicians have been doing this same shit for years.”

  The chains exploded, and Cash drifted back to the stage like he wore an invisible parachute. Estelle and her friend feigned relief, kissing his cheeks. While we watched him struggle in the chains, a box had been wheeled out to the stage. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my belly. Sylvio was right, this had been done a million times. But that wasn’t what bothered me. It was what we hadn’t seen yet. Cash wouldn’t rely on sex appeal to get him through a show. He resented it too much.