Waiting in the Wings

Chapter Four

Awareness swarmed over Kiki in a rush, and she stepped forward with a jerk, startled to find herself not in her own cell, but Heidi’s office. Coldness climbed through her limbs, an icy sensation pumping through her blood with every beat of her sluggish heart. Heidi sat behind the desk, a single manila folder in front of her and an unreadable expression on her face. Grasping the back of a guest chair, Kiki leaned her weight on it.

“I’m in trouble, aren’t I?” No sense in beating around the bush. She had been caught outside the theatre when the curse kicked in…but only because Stan wouldn’t let me in. She chose not to dwell on Richard seeing it happen. Talk about a buzz kill.

“More than a little.” Heidi tapped the manila folder in front of her. “This is your contract.”

The chill in her blood dropped to arctic levels. Digging her fingers into the fabric of the chair, she kept herself upright. “I was trying to get back in…”

Unmollified, Heidi shrugged. “You snuck out.”

Guilt poked her. “Yes. But it wasn’t for why you might think…”

“You wanted to party and you were bored?” The stage manager challenged her blandly.

“Okay, so maybe it is why you think. We’re not tied to the theatre when we’re off for the night. We are allowed to go out…” She sighed. Is Richard completely freaked out by the Dancer Jekyll and Mannequin Hyde routine?

“You are allowed, of course, but—for your personal protection and security—you notify us. You let Stan accompany you.”

“I was fine.” Kiki straightened, fighting the weakness invading her limbs. “I had fun and I didn’t break any rules.” Right? I didn’t… She had a few drinks, partied, and more than one awesome orgasm with the sexiest vampire she ever—Ooh, vampire. She touched her fingers to her throat where he bit her…but the smooth skin didn’t feel puckered or damaged.

“You went up to a private suite with three men you’ve never met, propositioning all three, I might add, and raced the sunrise to get back to the theatre.”

“It’s not like it hasn’t happened before. Pandora did it. Roseâtre did it. Hell, you sent both of them off to do it.” She ticked the names off on her fingers.

“And I knew where they were, who they were with and Stan was prepared to defend them as necessary.” Heidi’s disappointment slapped at her. “Do you not see the danger you were in?”

“Richard would never hurt me.” Her faith in that statement surprised her. She didn’t have to think about it. Even when they’d tussled and she struck him, he’d never hurt her—and something unfamiliar unfurled within her. He wouldn’t ever hurt her. She didn’t know why she knew that, but instinct seemed solid. Richard would never hurt her. If anything, his touch seemed to awaken something dormant within her.

Instead of attacking her belief or dismissing it, Heidi leaned back in the chair. “How do you know that?”

“I…” The words seemed to dance right on the edge of her tongue, but darted away before she could give them voice. “I…I don’t know.” If she closed her eyes, she could conjure an image of him. His smile, the dark velvet of his midnight gaze, the muscles straining in his jaw as pleasure took him. He wouldn’t hurt her.

Ever.

“I guess I don’t know why.” Disquiet deflated the balloon of faith, and she walked around the chair to sit down. “I’m sorry, Heidi.” Contrition washed in to fill the empty space in her soul.

“Kiki, do you know who Richard is?”

The layers of meaning beneath the question dragged the dancer from her internal musings. “He’s a vampire.”

“I asked who, not what.” The stage manager’s voice warmed, thawing out her disapproval.

“No. Just a guy in a bar.” A beautiful man in a bar, and it was like I knew him—for all of three seconds—but I wanted to find him, and there he was. “I won’t do it again. I’m sorry I upset you. I just needed to get out.” She glanced at the manila folder, curiosity about the contents pricking.

“You will do it again.” Not that the woman sounded unhappy about it, but the note of concern worried Kiki. “We will try to stop you, but if you truly want to escape, you know you can. So, I propose to you that I will not prevent your escapades, as long as you tell us about them. Don’t venture out unprotected.”

“I made it back. I would be fine.” She appreciated the offer, but half the fun of sneaking out lay in the sneaking itself.

“Kiki, if you break the rules again, I will have no choice but to punish you.” So much for understanding-Heidi. The stage manager’s voice lowered to a stiff, neutral tone. “I have no wish to see you suffer, but I do not own your contract. I have less influence over it than I would like. Every time you push the boundaries and play fast and loose with the rules, you wear down the patience of those who do. This latest event—it has them talking.”

“Wait a minute—I work for the Arcana Royale and I belong here…” she tried to wrap her mind around it, but the thoughts wouldn’t take purchase. Her concentration slipped and slid around the facts until a dull ache formed behind her eyes. “How do you not own my contract?”

“Because I have been trying to buy it out for fifty years. The one who holds it does not wish to sell.” Heidi tapped the desk. “Your latest escapade could jeopardize any progress I’ve made.”

“Which can’t be much if you’ve been trying to buy it for fifty years.” Kiki clapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late. The sarcasm and annoyance in her voice surprised her.

The manager shrugged. “Agreed. It hasn’t been much. Just keeping you here. Under my protection…and allowing you to perform this week as the lead.”

“You’re taking that away?” Her stomach sank. She may have blown the offer off the night before, but she’d waited for decades to get a chance to tackle the lead. Always the backup dancer, never the star. She had so many ideas, and if this chance worked out—it could be her shot.

“No. I’m not taking it away.” The woman leaned forward and rubbed her forehead. The utterly human gesture softened her generally tough appearance and no-nonsense attitude. “This would be far easier if you remembered.”

“Remembered what?” Kiki latched onto that oblique frustration and leaned forward. She inched her hands towards to manila file folder.

“Why did you go out last night?” Heidi turned the question back on her.

“Because I wanted to get out. I was restless—”

“Why were you restless? The girls were dancing, partying, playing games…you love that.”

“I know, but I…I…” Kiki stopped and frowned. The restlessness hit her, agitation flowed through her, and she bounced up from the chair. The pervasive weakness was no match for the urge to go. She walked to the door, but the handle wouldn’t turn. She pulled at it twice.

“You want to go now, don’t you?” The cool splash of words halted her jerks on the door. She glanced down at her hands and then the door handle. She barely even remembered standing up.

“What’s wrong with me, Heidi?”

“Short answer? You’re cursed. You have a show in two hours. You’re still improvising it. You’re still leading it. But you have to stay in the theatre until the final curtain drops. After that, you can go to him.”

“Him?” Richard? The urge to rip the door out of the frame struck her again. She needed to go now. She didn’t have time to wait.

“The show, Kiki. You have to focus on it.” The command resonated inside her, clashing with the urge to go.

“I went because he called me.” She spit the thought out swiftly, before it slipped away.

“Yes, you did.”

“He’s calling me now.” How had he called her before he bit her? Didn’t they have to share a blood tie or something? Or at least be compelled before? “Oh crap. Is that why I can’t remember anything before being here? He compelled me?”

The stage manager didn’t answer. Instead, she rose, file in hand and walked over to the cabinet beneath her shelved collection of puzzle boxes.

“Heidi? Is that what’s wrong with me?”

“You have a show to put on. You should probably shower and find some costumes and let the others know what you’re doing.” The stage manager didn’t look back at her.

Pushing away from the door, Kiki stalked across the office. Stifling the urge to go left her twisted in knots inside. “You have to tell me.”

“He is the reason you came here, but he is not the reason you stayed.” Heidi locked the cabinet.

“That doesn’t really answer my question.”

“And yet, it is the only answer you will get tonight. You have a puzzle to solve and resources to call upon. Figure out the puzzle and you will know what you need. But be careful…I can only protect you for so long.”

Dread curled in her stomach at the warning. “I want to see him after the show.”

“Okay.”

The anticlimactic response surprised her. “That’s it? Just okay?”

“Yes. You have an hour and fifty-five minutes now. You should go.”

“Heidi!”

“One hour and fifty-four minutes.” The doors behind Kiki swung open, and Heidi returned to her desk and turned to the computer screen.

Suppressing the urge to scream, she pivoted and stomped out of the office, and found Minion. The imp bounced up from a sofa, magazines tumbling to the floor to fling herself at Kiki.

“Can I be in the show tonight? Can I? Please? Please?” The enthusiastic hug and eager bounce helped restore Kiki’s equilibrium. She gave her an affectionate squeeze and settled the imp onto her shoulder, tail curled around Kiki’s neck.

“I don’t even know what I’m doing for the show—”

“I do!” Minion tossed a look behind her at Heidi’s office door and crouched, murmuring into Kiki’s ear.

Laughter welled up, the amusement loosening the pull of Richard’s call on her body. Minion’s idea was just enough out there that it might work. In fact…

“I like that. And I’ll make you a deal,” she scratched the imp’s ears affectionately as she put distance between them and Heidi. “You can totally be in the show if you’ll do me one little favor.”

“I love favors.” Minion promised.

“Well, it might be hard…”

“I like hard favors even more. What is it?”

“Now, don’t agree so quickly.” Ahead of her she could see the dancers stirring and waved to Peppermint and Britta. “It could be tricky.”

“Tell me!” Minion demanded.

“Think you can steal a file folder from Heidi’s office for me?” She watched the ruddy little face intently.

“Oh snap. You want yours or someone else’s?” Minion clicked her fingers together and grinned.

Showered and dressed in a simple leotard, Kiki leaned close to the mirror to apply her makeup. The near constant eddies of weakness collided with persistent urge to be elsewhere. It took every ounce of her concentration to apply her mascara. When a rather violent tug contracted all of her muscles, she scowled and stormed over to the phone. Picking it up, she rang reception.

“Richard Casere’s suite, please.” She tapped her foot impatiently and carried the cordless receiver back to her makeup station. The other dancers hustled, but everyone seemed to lack the usual energy associated with a new performance. Maybe because they had no idea what the performance would be. Heidi said improvisation—so they had to watch Kiki and match her dance.

She managed to smear her makeup, thanks to the trembling in her limbs—trembling that had something to do with the sexy beast. She used a tissue to blot at the black smear carefully. The phone rang through, and a masculine voice answered it on the first ring. It wasn’t Richard’s voice however. “Put Richard on.” She didn’t bother to tack on a please.

Apparently she didn’t need to either. “Kristina?” The sound of his voice wrapping around her name sent a pulse of heat from her breasts to her sex and back up again. Peanut butter crunch on toast, he’s better than chocolate.

“Kiki. And stop calling me—I have a show to put on and I just screwed up my makeup. I will see you after the performance unless you keep pissing me off.” Proud that she didn’t dissolve into a quivering mass of sexual need and satisfied with telling him off, she hung up and went back to repairing her makeup.

Britta appeared in her periphery and leaned a hip against the counter. Cosmetics applied to perfection, right down to her ruby lipstick and glittering eye shadow, Britta looked like Kiki always wanted to—together and seductive without being slutty.

Not that there is anything wrong with slutty when it teaches a lesson… Amusement streamed through her. She dressed slutty on any number of occasions, just to tweak him when his arrogance got out of hand—

The mascara applicator fell to the counter as the constant drag pulling her sideways ceased.

“You okay?” Britta caught her arm, steadying her. Kiki belatedly realized she swayed and forced herself to sit down.

“I used to dress slutty just to piss him off.” Planting her hands on the tabletop, she trembled. “I used to dress slutty just to piss him off.”

“You realize you’re repeating yourself, right?” Britta bit her lip and tilted her head sideways. “Honey, you’re really pale. You want me to get you a drink?”

Her stomach cramped hard at the offer, but she shook her head. “No—I mean yes—but not right now. I used to dress… I knew him.” She waited for the thought to get swept away like every other half-formed memory she managed to glimpse, but it stuck stubbornly and she looked up at Britta, grinning. “I knew him. What he said about knowing me? I knew him too.”

“Yeah, okay. You’ve got the crazies tonight, but we need to know what we’re dancing to.”

“No.” Kiki bounced up. “I mean—yeah, I’ll tell you. But I met someone last night and…”

“You met someone and you’re just now mentioning it?” Rising, hands on her hips, Britta gave her a hard look. “You went out and didn’t invite me?”

Wrapping her in a quick embrace. “Not on purpose and don’t be like that. I just had to get out and I didn’t realize he was calling me, but he was and I went and then he was there and we were together and we up to his room. Oh my God can the man kiss, and three orgasms later I had to get back down here, but I was late and Stan was pissed and I woke up in Heidi’s office—but I know him and I haven’t known anyone but us for years.” She panted, the torrent of words spilling out of her added another layer to the euphoria bubbling in her blood. “I know him!” She squealed and gave Britta another hug.

A bell rang, and Kiki jumped.

“Oh hell. We need to go. We’re doing Diamonds are a Vampire’s best friend—blacks, reds and loads of glitter.”

“Glitter?” Peppermint interrupted, annoyance flaring in her eyes. “I just did my hair, and you want me to dump glitter on it?”

“Yes and all over your body too.” Kiki danced down the row of tables, giving every one of the girls a hug as she passed by. “Load up on the gems. You need to sparkle when the lights turn on you. We’ll show them the real reason vampires can’t go out in daylight…they won’t be able to handle our bling.”

The other dancers grumbled good-naturedly and laughed, but Kiki barely heard them.

I know him…oh. I can’t wait to see him again…

Frederick Reynolds waited at the entrance to the lounge. It was early by Vegas standards—hell, it was even early by Richard’s standards. The sun set just two and a half hours before, and the new show was scheduled to begin promptly at nine. Irritation slid along his skin. The younger vampire had nothing to report. But Frederick made a point to be seen as the person most likely to stay out of trouble.

“Frederick.” The prince acknowledged him with a nod, but didn’t slow his pace. Inside the lounge, the shadowy tables were staged at various levels, allowing maximum privacy while viewing the exotic shows. Succubi weaved through the tables trailing invitational vetiver in their wake. Fortunately, the allure only proved appealing to baser natured creatures—like the table of weres already on their way to a good drunk. He recognized them from their arrival that morning.

Boorish lot.

The hostess directed him to a table near the front, tucked into a well of privacy. The occasional voice climbed high enough to be heard, but otherwise he enjoyed the peace. Anton and David stood at either end of the rounded booth, and Frederick hesitated at the table’s edge.

He hadn’t been invited to sit.

Fortunately he seemed smart enough to understand that. Richard leaned back and studied him. “Well?” He asked after the silence stretched out his irritation—irritation kindled by Kristina’s annoyed phone call. One corner of his mouth quirked up, the call told him two things. She understood the call he sent out, one that summoned her blood to him—an act he could only perform because it was his blood that turned her.

And despite the curse, her loss of memory and a fifty-year separation—she still knew exactly how to spit in his eye and turn him on in the same breath.

“The stage manager doesn’t want to talk to me,” Frederick lowered his voice to barely a whisper. Richard needed to sit forward to hear him.

“Charm her—you landed yourself in hot water with twins, one can only imagine you possess a certain amount of appeal to the fairer sex.”

“I’m sure he does,” a Rubenesque woman interrupted, stepping around the booth and favoring Frederick with a gimlet glare. “But I am neither fair nor interested in sex. So go away, little vampire. You annoy me.”

The stage manager’s—because Richard doubted she could be anyone else—bluntness shocked Frederick, and his eyes widened. An actual trace of fear rolled through his scent. Intrigued, Richard waved the younger vampire away. Perhaps his time at the Royale would harden the soft, spoiled brat into a real man. A century or so would prove that out.

“May I sit?” She motioned to the booth before Richard could rise.

Manners dictated he should stand, but power suggested a better option in remaining in his seat. He inclined his head. “Please. You are the stage manager, Heidi.”

“And you’re the Prince of New York. Now that we’ve gotten the obvious out of the way, let’s discuss Kiki.”

“Her name is Kristina.” He’d never been fond of that nickname and would prefer to wash her free of it altogether. “And she is the Princess of New York, not some common performer.”

“Well, in one area we are agreed—she is no ordinary performer. That said, you are forbidden from interfering in her service to the Midnight Mystery Lounge. She may see you if she chooses in the free hours after the show, but she is to return to the Lounge before sunrise. That is non-negotiable.”

Richard snapped his mouth shut lest he gape at the woman. “You don’t—”

“No. Look, I can pander to your title and your ego and I can say all the polite things, but the truth here will serve you far better. I cannot help you. I cannot help her. I will protect her for as long as I am able. The rest is up to the two of you. I will provide you with no clues and no access to my files. I will certainly not cater to the boy vampire’s crude attempts to befriend me. You are fortunate that I am not forbidding Kiki from seeing you, nor am I reporting her infractions.”

Anton and David shifted imperceptibly, but Richard waved them off. The harsh tone, the forceful words and the cold look in the woman’s implacable gaze—they were too direct, too specific and far too harsh no matter his position. The house did not show its hand, did not display power or disdain unless…

“You wouldn’t be wise to forbid her. She has never been one to obey even when it was in her best interests.” It flew in the face of his nature to forgo orders, but four hundred years together gave him some insight into his bride’s needs, or so he’d always believed.

“Excellent. Then we have an understanding.” Heidi rose, and Richard moved, catching her arm before she could take a single step away. The chill in her stare sliced at him, but he didn’t relax his grip. His nostrils flared. The stage manager’s scent confused him. White peppermint—snow cold and crisp—mingled with dark chocolate, an undertone of dark woods or bark found hidden in deep southern forests and an herbal almost-wintergreen hint, sharp and piquant in taste.

Witch.

She had to be. He filed that information away for future reference.

“She is going to leave this place.” No other option existed. He would not leave her here. She belonged with him.

“That is not up to you or I, Richard.” Every muscle in his body locked. Something in the way she said his name—as if she captured the entire essence of which he was from his first breath of life to the last drop of blood he tasted. “We do not control her fate. You are here at the sufferance of the Prince of Las Vegas, and he only allowed it because of the terms of his treaty with the casino. He cannot block you forever, but he does not have to allow you access. I suggest you take advantage of the time you have—get to know Kiki—appreciate her for who she really is, unfettered by the chains and burdens of the past. Let her know you beyond the arrogance and expectation.”

Another warning? Another piece of information? He couldn’t move or open his mouth to respond.

Heidi smiled, removing his hand lightly and setting it back on the table. She gave him an almost motherly pat on the cheek. “Sometimes it’s better to look and to listen, when you can’t do anything else.” She walked away. He followed her with his gaze, still parsing the information. She gave him clues—he had no idea why or what her actual endgame was, but she meant to be helpful.

Of course, she didn’t have to vague it up so damn much.

You know, at your age, I expect more.

Her voice whispered into his ear as if she still stood right next to him. But he could see her clearly, right near the lip of the stage and ascending disguised stairs toward a curtain that vanished into the back. She paused to look back at him.

Consider for a moment why she left you in the first place.

He didn’t have to consider it. They fought. They always fought.

Exactly.

She vanished behind the curtain and the force holding him still went with her. He leaned back, sparing a glance at his men, neither of whom seemed to notice anything was wrong. The sound in the room rushed around him—the lights dimmed and behind the curtain, he heard heartbeats.

She left because we fought…again…

So why that fight?

He still chewed on that thought when the curtain swept upwards and his bride ascended the stage in a floor length black evening gown slit up to reveal both thighs and a plunging collar that emphasized the sweet swell of her breasts. She wore a stand-up-collared cape framing her head and so many diamonds that his eyes burned from the reflection.

Oh yes…that’s why we fought…