Alexia’s eyes flew open, lungs heaving in her chest.
Her phone rang loud in the silence of the room. She bolted upright before registering the sound.
“H—hello?”
“Alexia? Are you okay?” Amy sounded concerned.
She took a breath, trying to restore normality to her tone. “Yeah, I’m fine. Did you find anything?”
“Nothing. All three of us have been looking, but it’s not an easy search to narrow down. If it was suicide, it was kept from the press. The police might have the information, but I doubt they’d give it up if it’s confidential.”
There was no disappointment left to feel. Alexia’s reply was numb. “I got the same results.”
Amy floundered for a moment on the other end of the line, unable to find the right thing to say.
“It’s okay, really,” Alexia broke in. “Thanks for trying. I’ll see you guys after the show.”
“No. Look, we’ll come back. You still have some time, right? You shouldn’t be alone right now.”
“It’s okay, I need to start getting ready anyway.”
Amy’s troubled sigh fell through the line.
“I promise, I’m okay,” Alexia pressed. “It’s only one more night. Tomorrow, this whole thing will be behind me.”
“Well, If you’re sure…”
“I am. You just enjoy your last day in the city. I’ll find you after the show.”
“Okay then, break a le—I mean, good luck.”
Carrie and Deborah’s well wishes echoed in the background.
“Thanks guys. See you soon.”
She dropped the phone beside her. The windows were soundproof, blocking out the traffic below. The room’s quietness was oppressive, forcing her to reach for the remote. Flicking on the TV, she selected the first music channel that popped up, and a French rapper chased away the silence. Her nerves, however, lingered. Not wanting to be alone, she packed her bag, ready to make the move for the opera house. While gathering her things, she thought to message Kelly. Texting was safest, in case she had managed to get some sleep, but when the Canadian’s reply pinged through a moment later, Alexia guessed she hadn’t.
“Hey, I’m up! Come to my room, we can walk down together.”
A weight fell from Alexia’s shoulders that she didn’t know she’d been carrying. Her hands worked quickly to finish packing, only slowing to ensure her dress for that evening wasn’t crumpled when placed in her bag.
Kelly’s room was on the floor above hers. The door opened at the first knock. She was wearing a royal blue silk pajama set, but her hair was done, pinned into a tight bun.
“Sleep any?” she asked, stepping aside to invite Alexia in.
“Not a wink.”
“Me either, but I did try to meditate. I read somewhere that it can be more effective than sleep, although it didn’t work as well as I’d hoped. Guess I need more practice.”
Alexia cracked a grin as she dropped her bag at the door. The room was identical to hers, except a bit tidier. This made her frown.
“Care for a coffee?”
Alexia smoothed the crease in her brow. “You already know the key to my heart.”
“Amen, sister. Especially this stuff,” Kelly said, standing in front of the espresso bar. “Such a kick in the pants. In Canada, we drink our coffee super diluted so we can have ten cups a day. If I had ten of these, I’d have a heart attack.”
Alexia laughed.
“Anyway, I was thinking about doing my makeup here,” Kelly continued. “That dressing room will be cramped with all of us in it at the same time.”
“I’m down for that,” Alexia replied, not wanting to spend any more time at the opera house than she had to. “But aren’t they having makeup artists come in?”
“Yeah, but I prefer to do my own. Mrs. Beaumont approved it already. Said the only thing that’s essential for them to do is the glitter. Think it’s being super-glued to our faces.”
“Sounds delightful.”
“You bet.”
They drank their coffee slowly, absorbed in conversation, and as it unfolded Alexia wondered more and more why she hadn’t spent more time with Kelly. The answer surfaced from the recesses of her mind as one name.
Chloe.
Chloe was the reason. Alexia had fallen victim to her blinding beauty, skill, and charm, unable to see her for what she was, even if she still didn’t know exactly what that was. What a fool she’d been. All the time she could have spent getting to know Kelly and the rest of the dancers had been wasted. Now she was paying the price.
“Alexia?”
Kelly’s voice pulled her from her regret. There was no point in dwelling on it. What had been done was done. Although she wouldn’t find absolution for her actions, at least she could learn from them.
“Sorry, what were you saying?”
Kelly was eyeing her suspiciously, emotionally attuned to her despondency. But she didn’t pry, and for that Alexia was thankful.
“We should start on makeup. I’ll get some tunes going. There are some wicked French artists out there. Can’t believe I haven’t heard of them before.”
Alexia finished her espresso, feeling more ready to face the night ahead. It wasn’t going to be like last time. Tonight, she wouldn’t be alone. The Opéra Magique would be teeming with people, and its every dark corner would brighten with anticipation for the new year. Tonight, it would be safe. Nothing would happen. Nothing could happen. She was sure of it.
CHAPTER 16
“Psst. Alexia, come look!”
Kelly waved her over to peer out from behind the curtain, which she had cracked open. The sight took Alexia’s breath away. Every seat in the auditorium had been filled. As her eyes swept across the crowd, it was as though she was looking at one of the black and white portraits in the hallway, except now, in full color. It was the way the auditorium was meant to be, filled with spectators who brought the space to life.
“Mrs. Beaumont said the show sold out this afternoon.”
“I believe it,” Alexia replied, closing the curtain before they were noticed.
A five minute warning was announced, and Chloe and Olaf were called into position for the opening pas de deux. Although she tried to pry her gaze away, Alexia’s eyes remained glued to Chloe as she took center stage.
As promised, the principal dancer had arrived at the opera house early, already warming up when Kelly and Alexia had made their entrance. It hadn’t been difficult to avoid her. It never was with someone who went out of their way to be alone. She acted like the rest of the dancers were beneath her—unworthy of her presence. It hurt Alexia that Chloe had clumped her with the others. The group undeserving of her attention. True, Chloe had treated her worse than anyone deserved to be treated, but Alexia couldn’t deny that a small part of her was still drawn to the principal dancer. The emotions Chloe inspired in her were unlike any other, terrifying, but thrilling. Maybe there was something human in that, the need to feel, and feel strongly. That’s the promise Chloe offered. She was a drug in more ways than one. A bad trip Alexia senselessly craved.
The curtain rose, and Chloe’s expression lifted in time with it. It was unnerving to watch the swift change, so bipolar in shift that it sent a shiver down Alexia’s spine. Once Chloe was on, she was on. The audience fell under her spell in an instant, falling victim to the illusion that this was who she was—heavenly, sublime. With each lifting of limb, she burrowed deeper into their hearts until there wasn’t a single person in the crowd who looked on without starry-eyed wonder.
Chloe summoned a standing ovation after the first piece, creating a growing anxiety in Alexia at the expectation that followed. The music began to shift, fading from one song into the next. She squeezed her eyes shut, centering her mind with a few deep breaths.
“We’ve got this,” Kelly whispered with confidence.
There was no time to respond before the music cued them onstage for their pas de quatre.
Alexia floate
d across the stage to Paulo in a series of cabrioles, leaping off the ground first with her left leg, then kissing it with her right. Her lines were drawn to perfection, years of training taking over, yet her mind was elsewhere, watching over herself in an out-of-body experience.
She tried to focus, to come back to herself and savor the once-in-a-lifetime performance she’d trained so hard for. In time, her mind returned to her body with the gentle descent of a hot air balloon departing the sky. The piece was half over when she finally lost herself in the music. The beat reverberated through her core, pulsing life into each movement. She flowed with the grace of a bird, free from gravity’s constraints. Turning in a series of fouettés, the faces of the audience blended into one singular being, the illusion only broken when she transitioned to a promenade and found her mark on the stage for the next sequence. Paulo fell in line behind her, securing one hand across her hips, and the other on her hamstring in preparation. He pliéed, and when he straightened, Alexia was lifted from the floor. Her hands arched backward until they almost grazed the floor, and her legs were extended in the splits mid-air, hips supported by Paulo‘s right shoulder. For a moment, time slowed to a standstill as she froze every muscle in her body. Then, Paulo began to turn, presenting her pose to the audience in a 360° view. As he came full circle, Alexia’s eyes locked on Kelly, positioned in the same developpé lift. Coated in glitter, her face shimmered in the spotlight like a star on a clear night. The effect traversed the course of her body as the light caught the sequined unitard she was dressed in. Alexia followed the sparkle down Kelly’s arm…down to the floor. A section of it shared the same iridescent shine. At first, she thought it to be glitter that had escaped their makeup, but when she squinted, she noticed it had a different shine. A refined shine, like the glistening of a diamond. Paulo’s continuing rotation pulled the spot from view, but she twisted her neck, trying to inspect it as long as she could. When recognition sank in, her blood curdled with fright.
It was frost. Black frost was on the stage.
The world began to dip as Paulo lowered her from the lift, returning her feet to the stage. Alexia fought to keep her head in its choreographed position. Turning it would have been a blatant disregard for the routine. But her eyes stretched to the left, desperate to see if the frost was still there.
It was.
Alexia’s heart hammered. A single step on it would yield dire consequences. A violin attacked the song, cueing the finger turns to come. One leap placed her back in front of Paulo, and her arms shifted into fourth position, her right one creating a crescent moon above her head, her left one circled at waist level. Above her head, Paulo’s hand found hers. She gripped his middle finger to anchor her revolutions.
Alexia found a woman with bright hair in the audience to serve as a spot. If she broke free from her image, she’d fall. But something commanded her attention away, something moving in her peripheral vision. It crept across the stage in a spine-chilling fashion, the way a serpent would slither through the grass. Each time she turned, it was closer…and closer. The black frost was coming for her.
Alexia’s stage smile faltered, overpowered by fear as she watched the ice close in on her feet. She had no choice but to look down as it spread underfoot, covering the stage beneath her with a dangerous slickness. Robbed of grip, her pointe shoes wobbled, and she clenched Paulo’s finger tightly to keep herself upright. The cracking of his knuckle was loud in her ear, followed by the curse in his native tongue.
“Sorry,” Alexia whispered as she centered herself.
At least he had kept her upright. A trained eye would have caught the falter, but it would have been lost on the majority of the audience in the transition of poses. A jump to the side had bought her more time. The routine was almost done, but they weren’t free from danger; the frost now covered the majority of the stage.
When Kelly leapt into a patch of it, Alexia almost cried out. But Kelly kept her stance, unaffected by what she couldn’t see. Alexia danced on, finding her footing in sections bare of the haunted substance. It threw her positioning off, but the other three dancers on stage came to her rescue, altering their placements to fall in line with her.
It was only by chance that she managed to get through the rest of the routine without slipping. When the song ended, she flew off stage as fast as her pointe shoes would carry her, forgetting the poise required of a ballet walk.
From the safety of the wing, she glanced back at the nightmare. The frost was still moving—converging into a central line on the stage. Then, as quickly as it had come, it receded. The crystals of ice were commanded back by some invisible force. They travelled to a pillar on the opposite wing, climbing the stone in the same way they had climbed the hallway of the Opéra Magique a few days before. Alexia followed the frost with her eyes as it fled higher, to the rafters above…returning to its maker.
Chloe stared down at her as the same diabolic image she’d been the day before. Lips curled back into a hideous grin, one that was robbed of compassion and void of humanity. Her red eyes that bore into Alexia’s soul were nothing but pure evil.
A hand fell on Alexia’s shoulder, and her jaw clenched so suddenly she bit her tongue. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.
“Are you okay? What happened out there?”
Kelly’s face was etched with concern when she turned.
“Can you see…” Alexia’s voice died as she raised her finger, pointing to the rafters above.
“See what?” Kelly asked gently.
Alexia was silent as she stared at the empty spot where Chloe had been.
“Here one minute, gone the next.”
“Sorry?”
The response wasn’t meant for Kelly, and neither was an explanation.
“Never mind. I have to go.”
“Go? Go where? We’re back on in five minutes.”
But Alexia was already shouldering her way through the crowd of dancers, searching for the one face she needed to see. If Chloe wasn’t here, then she could have been up there. Messing with her mind.
Her attention broke for a moment when it caught the row of water bottles against the far wall. Amy’s warning floated back to her mind. She might have been onto something. It would have been easy for Chloe to spike her drink when no one was watching.
Alexia was still staring at the plastic bottles when Ida caught her arm.
“What are you doing back here? Your entrance is farther down.”
“Have you seen Chloe?” Alexia asked, ignoring Ida’s question.
“She’s downstage left.”
Alexia’s face paled as she peered through the shadows across the stage, staring straight at the staircase that fed up to the rafters.
So it was feasible. Chloe had quick access.
Her head whipped back to the row of water bottles. Maybe the principal dancer had drugged her after all, maybe she had hallucinated the whole thing. The longer she ruminated on the possibility, the angrier she became. It wasn’t the ghost of Renée, it couldn’t have been. It was Chloe she had seen. Chloe, who was alive.
Alexia’s teeth began to grind. She hadn’t come all this way to fall victim to that conniving, spoiled brat. She had worked her whole life for this. And under the influence or not, she wasn’t going to let Chloe win. She was going to dance her heart out, give them all the performance of a lifetime.
Alexia stormed back to her place, where Kelly shot her an apprehensive look.
“What’s happening?”
“Nothing.” Her voice was unintentionally sharp. “It’s noth—”
“Alexia!”
Mrs. Beaumont’s tone made Alexia’s shoulders drop like a scolded dog. But as soon as the director was within view, the alarm on her face was clear.
“Was there something on stage? It looked like you slipped.”
Alexia inhaled sharply.
“Don’t be modest with me. I’ve seen a lot of stumbles over the years, but that was not from your core. There was so
mething on the stage.”
With her mind set on that notion, Mrs. Beaumont continued to rant.
“Merde! Probably all that glitter. We should have done the dress rehearsal with the makeup on too. I bet it’s all over the stage. At intermission, I’ll do a full sweep. Just cross your fingers, no one else hits it. I’m so sorry, ma chérie. If it’s any consolation, it would have been impossible to notice from the audience. Your recovery was exceptional. You’re a true star.”
She gave Alexia a congratulatory and apologetic squeeze on the arm before ripping the radio from her waist. A firm command in French followed, which Alexia assumed was the coordination of the sweeping.
Knowing they would find nothing didn’t cause her concern. All that mattered was Mrs. Beaumont had understood the true reason for her fall. Even if the frost had been a product of hallucination, to Alexia, it had been real. And she had brought it to life for everyone else in the exact way a ghost would use possession to make itself known. She had served as its medium. The frost was alive only because she believed it to be. The power to return it back to her imagination rested with her alone.
The next piece unfolded without incident—exactly as expected. Alexia kept her eyes away from the wings of the stage, trying to avoid catching sight of the principal dancer, trying to focus.
At intermission, she hid in the toilet, not wanting to confront Chloe until after the performance. She needed to center herself, to preserve her sanity for the finale. It was the group dance, the only time she would be on stage with Chloe.
Mrs. Beaumont’s voice drifted over the top of the stall.
“Five minutes, ladies.”
Alexia opened the door slowly, peering left, then right. There was a faint scuffle of dancers rushing back on stage, but no one was inside the bathroom area. Alexia hurried to the sink, washing her hands without the patience to dry them.
She kept her head down as she weaved through shimmering bodies to her position, pretending to be in deep meditation. In a way, she was. It required a lot of concentration to analyze her current state, to decipher if she felt strange in any sense of the word. She probed further, searching for clues that might indicate she was under the influence of a narcotic. None were found. She felt fine. A little jumpy, sure, but otherwise her mind seemed clear.
Black Frost Winter: The Black Seasons Book Two Page 18
