He tensed, sensing her scrutiny, but kept his gaze on the miniature version of the map spread in the air in front of him, watching for creatures coming their way.
Back in the studio, the cheerful music began almost as soon as she ran into the center of the room. This piece was about her character and Don, who loved her.
She rose to her toes, keeping her expression smooth and serene despite her protesting ankles and burning toes. One ballonné, two ballonné, three ballonné. Over and over again she jumped, lifting her leg to second position all the while balancing and landing on the tips of her right toes. Her placid smile grew as she found her last jump, but a figure streaking past the open door caused her to lose her balance upon landing. Her ankle made a loud cracking sound and she hit the floor on her hip, but there was no significantly higher pain than before. Limited damage. Thank goodness. She’d seen dancers simply crumble, unable to get up even on jumps that were perfectly landed.
“Leila! You’re Dulcinea, Don Quixote’s perfect, unreal woman.” Derik prowled around the chorus of girls with flowers clutched in their hands—some of whom had been recruited from Tulane and Loyola’s undergraduate programs—and stood with his ringed hands on his hips while Leila regained her feet.
Stretching made her feel better. No injuries.
“For this to work you have to look unreal and dance like a mystical nymph who was created to dance.”
If only she was one of those nymphs Derik liked and not a banshee. Then she wouldn’t disappoint anyone.
Attempting to appear as eager to please as he wanted her to, she nodded. Derik gave her his back and strode away, muttering, as the music started again.
This section started out easy enough. A long, stretched out arabesque, some teasing looks sent to Tim, playing a dreaming Don Quixote, followed by a circle of rapidly made turns, carefully choreographed to take up as much space as possible without cutting off the obediently sitting chorus members or running into the title character.
Hours later, when the music stopped a final time, Leila breathed in with relief. She let her false expression fall the second Derik wasn’t looking. He hadn’t criticized her again and even praised her for the way she brought the sense of effortlessness he’d asked for. Frankly, she didn’t know how she pulled it off. She loved this, wanted to spend every day she could exactly as she’d spent this one, but the threats toward her and those she loved remained in the back of her mind, trying to bring its fear to the forefront with whispers of shadows and death.
She was perfectly happy she’d allowed it to make her stumble just once. But tomorrow there can be no big mistakes. It would give Derik and aneurism, but more importantly, it would let down the girls and boys attending the dress rehearsal, most of whom attended inner city schools and dreamed of doing exactly what she did. They deserved her best, and she would give it to them.
There was no sign of Alex, Cael, or Aiyanna on the short walk to the locker room, where her batteries had not been touched. They weren’t on longer trek to the costume designer either. As she waited her turn to be accidentally pricked with needles and squeezed into leotards made of strange materials, she watched the hallway to see gossiping college students or other members of the company either going home or getting in line behind her.
Where could they be?
Before long, it was her turn. Mindy, their costume designer, ushered her inside the small, well-lit room as enthusiastically as she had everyone else. Flowers of every color were everywhere, made of durable cloth and sitting in organized piles on every surface, including the floor.
The plump older woman had a kind smile and soft hands. More than that, she brought a record of designing gorgeous pieces for her dancers; bringing the ballet to life with magic even company dancers weren’t immune to.
Mindy asked her to try on a soft pink leotard as she gathered materials in her small hands. She was about to place the tulle against Leila’s hips when Alex ran into the room with an ear-splitting roar and a knife in his hand. That blade went straight through Mindy’s throat before Leila could try to stop him.
“What have you done?” she whispered brokenly.
“Watch.” Gravel toughened his tone. Alex’s eyes were slashes of blue across bruised skin. What had happened to him?
Ignoring his new injuries for the moment, she did as he asked and watched as Mindy died, her blood staining a bundle of white cloth roses, darkening their stems to black.
Leila’s heart banged against her chest, confused, horrified…what?
The older woman’s face contorted, narrowing until hollows darkened under sharp cheekbones. Despite that and the darkness spreading under her closed eyes, youth radiated from the young woman. This wasn’t Mindy. Leila wanted to slap herself in the forehead, except this situation wasn’t quite that comical.
Of course Alex hadn’t killed an innocent woman.
“Warlock?” she asked, quickly peering back over her shoulder to see if any dancers had noticed the commotion. With all the fabrics and corkboards covering the walls, they were well insulated from sound escaping. No one stood in the doorway, mouth gaping, but Leila decided to close and lock the door just in case.
“Highland—a fledgling, so not quite a warlock yet.” With a costume scepter, Alex lifted the tulle Mindy, no, Highland, clutched to eye level. Now they could see that she wore black gloves that went up past her elbow.
“It’s poisoned, isn’t it?” Leila whispered. Why else would the fledgling need gloves?
In answer, Alex brought the material closer to his nose. His eyes grew stormy, furious. “Oh yes. Direct contact with the skin would have killed you instantly, immortal banshee or not. Contact with your clothes for more than five to ten minutes would bring the same result.”
He put a hand in his front jeans pocket, and everything in the space, including Leila and himself, was thrown against the wall.
The floor opened. Heat rose to suffocate them both, but before Leila had to gasp for air a second time the hole had closed, leaving carpet over floor with no sign of disturbance. The woman and her fabric were gone, like the bloodstained flowers. The carpet must have been a replacement because it appeared fluffy and fresh, no blood marring its old-world cheer Mindy was so fond of.
“Is that your answer to everything? ‘Eh, just throw it into the middle of the Earth.’”
Alex grinned, but the expression was marred with both pain and yearning. Leila understood completely.
“Do you have a better idea? It’s like having an incinerator at my fingertips.” He wiggled his hands, one of which had a deep scratch scabbing over across the small bones near his knuckles.
She laughed. “Nope. Keep doing you.” It keeps saving my life, so I’m not complaining. Even if it caused her to see what she’d always imagined hell to be like: bright, hot, and never-ending, like the hole to reach it. She shuddered.
There was a knock on the door. “Mindy, how much longer do you have with Leila? My roommate called and told me my cat’s throwing up everywhere. Is there any way you can squeeze me in really quickly?”
Ursula sounded panicked and exhausted, mirroring Leila’s own feelings. She was getting to the point where she was done with this day, whether her mind agreed with her body’s decision or not.
“Hold on a second,” Leila called.
Where’s Mindy? she signed in case Ursula could hear them. Is she okay?
Alex nodded. Aiyanna’s healing her as we speak. They already brought her home. His mouth and the twitching muscle in his jaw softened. I’m sorry, but I don’t think she’s going to be working with any of you until tomorrow. He paused, stilling when they heard a thump Leila knew to be an impatient dancer kicking the wall. She won’t remember any of this.
Leila released the breath she hadn’t known she was holding. Thank you. Without thinking she hugged him, realizing her mistake as he went utterly rigid in her arms.
But nothing happened. She hugged him tighter, and he finall
y relaxed, placing his arms around her and running his hands over the exposed expanse of her back. Nothing.
Briony left me a scrub to use this morning, he signed, separating from her only so she could see his hands. His eyes sparkled brighter than she’d ever seen them, definitely too brilliant to be human. Leila stared, mesmerized.
This time, his smile was wide and uninhibited. I guess it worked.
She didn’t know who leaned in first, but they were kissing before she realized what was happening, suddenly making up for the time they’d lost last night, pressing their skin together because they could.
The knock came again, more urgently this time. “Please. Mindy, Leila!”
Oops.
Chapter 16
THEY jerked apart as if electrocuted, but Alex kept a firm grip on her hand, his smile wicked. Grinning, Leila rolled her eyes—it was either that or reattach herself to him for a very, very long time—and opened the door.
“Mindy fell ill; she isn’t here,” she told Ursula.
The other woman gaped at her. “You’re talking.”
“I can’t sign through a door, can I?” Leila raised her eyebrows, slapped Alex lightly in the stomach when he doubled over, laughing, and pulled him away from the line of gawking dancers.
“Wait, so no fittings today?” Melanie called. Her feet, pointed at the door, flexed with excitement.
“Nope.”
A few girls squealed. Leila made for the same door Melanie just ran through when Alex pulled her in a different direction—one that kept them within the studio.
“There’s something else. While you were rehearsing, Aiyanna caught Winnie snooping through your locker. She told Derik, and they’re waiting for us in his office.”
Suddenly, Leila’s feet hurt that much worse. She wasn’t surprised—who else could it have been, anyway—but it hurt for another dancer in her cohort to try to hurt her this way. They were supposed to work together, to support one another despite the constant competition between them.
It could be worse. Winnie was lucky Alex hadn’t killed her on the spot. Cael refused to hurt women unless he could help it, and as a healer, Aiyanna weakened when she harmed another. But Leila knew Alex had to use restraint not to hurt someone that threatened her. In a twisted way, it was kind of nice.
It wasn’t news to her that she was screwed up.
In the far back corner of the building next to the untouched vending machines, Derik’s office was the only room with the lights still on. It was getting close to nine. It wasn’t an unusual sight; he was always the first to arrive and the last to leave, giving extra help and offering words of wisdom to those who asked for it. Leila had kept him later than this before, but she was certain he’d rather discuss stretching techniques than the misconduct of his dancers.
“I wanted you to see her for what she was—deaf.”
Huh?
Beside her, Alex snorted with mirth. One of his palms closed over her shoulder, giving her goose bumps despite the heat he radiated.
“You’re telling me that you’ve been stealing the batteries she uses in her cochlear implants, to hear, so you could show me that she’s deaf.” Derik spoke in monotone, a surefire sign of trouble. At least when he yelled, using inflections in his voice, it meant the recipient of his tirade wasn’t dead to him.
Like Winnie seemed to be.
“Those magnets, implants, whatever, give her an edge. I don’t care what you think. It’s unfair to the rest of us!” Winnie cried.
“Actually,” Leila cut in, using her foot to open the cracked door all the way. Winnie sat across from Derik at his desk, while Cael and Aiyanna stood on either side of an old poster of Derik dancing as Puck in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Both of their arms were crossed, Aiyanna’s murderous expression trained on a very oblivious Winnie. “They do give me an edge. You’re right. Without them, I can’t hear anything like you can. That’s what being deaf means.”
At her voice, Winnie gasped in outrage. “See!”
Derik folded his hands, but said nothing.
“Speech therapy works wonders.” Aiyanna winked at Leila.
They crowded the space in silence, two werewolves and a shapeshifter looming over Winnie, who was beginning to look around, her eyes wide. In Leila’s opinion, she chose the wrong people to fear.
“This will be your last ballet with the company, Winnie,” Derik said simply. “I’d leave you out of the ballet altogether if it weren’t so close to showtime and there hadn’t been too many last-minute changes made already.”
Suddenly filled with righteous fury, the dancer in question rose, cowering slightly when Aiyanna sneered at her, and pushed past Leila for the door.
“And Winnie?” Derik called.
She stopped, pivoted to face the director.
“If you try to sabotage anyone in this company again, I’ll personally make sure you never so much as take a ballroom dancing class for the rest of your life. Do you understand?”
Winnie made a choking sound, her usually flawless porcelain face mottling with red, but she didn’t argue before stomping away, knocking over a stack of ballet books on her way out the door.
“That’s one problem solved,” Derik murmured, running his hands through his almost-shaved hair. “Only a few dozen left to deal with before the performance.” He looked up wearily. “Do you need anything else, Leila?”
She shook her head. What was the appropriate thing to say when one’s boss turned out to be even greater than previously imagined?
“Then goodnight. Thank you, Aiyanna, for taking Mindy home when she became so sick. I hope you didn’t catch anything because of your kindness.”
At his dismissal, Leila was the first out of his office, with Aiyanna the last to leave, throwing a, “Oh I’m not worried about that,” over her shoulder before she pulled the door closed.
A hysterical laugh bubbled up in Leila’s chest, bursting from her before she could smother the embarrassing sound.
“She wasn’t trying to kill me.” Now she couldn’t stop laughing. “She was just a bitch!”
Cael chuckled, shocking her into laughing even more, but her outburst caused Alex to go stone-faced. In the parking lot, Cael opted to take Aiyanna home by air, and the two disappeared.
“What’s wrong?” Leila asked when they got into the car.
Alex didn’t answer for a few long minutes. “Do you know how fucked up it is that you’re delighted someone was cruel to you because they didn’t want to murder you?” He shook his head violently.
Ahead, a small tree next to an electrical wire disintegrated into ash, which flew in the wind until it stuck to the window on Leila’s side.
He was right, of course.
So? Leila’s life hadn’t been normal since she was nine, and she suspected even then, during those golden years when there was not one thing for her to worry about, safety was only an illusion created by loving parents hoping for her and Mary to have some semblance of a childhood.
Leila smiled. “Because I had a sister willing to put her life on hold for me and a haint determined to help me get through college, I have an amazing education. More than that, I have a position in a ballet company most dancers would kill for.” She rolled down the window, reached down and smudged some of the ash between her fingers. “So a few people want to kill me. Everyone has problems.”
I’ll feel safe again eventually. Those words alone would send Alex into a rage. He wanted her safe now, but that just wasn’t plausible. Yet.
For the rest of the drive to his house, he didn’t respond, silently fuming while she texted Wish and Mary back in their group message. No, she didn’t want to eat supper with them tonight. Yes, she would eat something.
Mother hens, the both of them.
Beau met them at the front door, sitting on the decrepit porch and grinning around the unfamiliar shoe hanging from his jaws. It may not have been a shoe at all—by now whatever the object had been
was reduced to stripes of black leather. He put the unknown object between them on the ground and barked once, his long tail wagging.
“How did he—”
“I have no idea,” Alex finished, eyeing the beast warily. Of course, Beau was the picture of innocence. There was no questioning if they should let him inside the house, despite Alex’s grumble when she held the door open long enough for Beau to run inside, find the nearest rug and immediately roll onto his back, jerking wildly with his legs in the air until the itch was well scratched.
Thankfully, the act had Alex’s lips twitching upward, most of his rage diffusing in Beau’s cheerful wake. It still didn’t explain how, exactly, Beau had gotten out of the house while they were gone.
“If you want, I can bring you to the firehouse,” he offered, not meeting her gaze.
Making herself right at home, Leila found herself rifling through the kitchen until she had most of what she wanted to eat. Until she’d seen the text messages earlier, she hadn’t realized how hungry she was. Now, less than half an hour later, she was ravenous.
“I’d like to stay here.” Were there bananas somewhere? They’d go perfectly with the peanut butter and Nutella-slathered croissant she had going.
She must have said that out loud, because a perfectly yellow bundle of bananas appeared by her right elbow. She clapped her hands together happily and cut one onto the buttery bread while nibbling on the other. Once she finished with the fruit, both eating and slicing, she took a bite of her croissant, smiled, and said, “You know I like keeping to myself before a performance. This is no different.”
Except now she was being paid for her efforts. Oh and this time she had to be perfect, ethereal, and natural or else the entire role was ruined. No big deal. Her heart sped up, and she took another bite.
“Everything’s different now, Leila.”
Alex wasn’t only talking about the senator and the warlocks. The last time he was with her the night before a dress rehearsal, they’d lain on the couch at her condominium watching the television show Scream, her roommates mysteriously absent. Then, they hardly touched, aching for each other but, at least in Leila’s case, too filled with fear to make a move. She’d gotten in around ten, after practicing her dances for so many hours that she was almost surprised her pointe shoes didn’t walk off on their own accord, taking her feet with them.
Returned Page 21
