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Chapter 1 - Quinn
A heavy dancebeat thrums through the nightclub, the low lights pulsing in time with it. The air is oppressively thick with the scents of people, booze, and the purple haze from the smoke machines. I can count the number of times I’ve been clubbing on one hand, and the last time I was here was almost a year ago when we were shooting. Back then it was called Starburst, but after Saving the World: 101 took off, they decided to ride the wave of publicity and changed the name to Inferno like in the show. Tonight we’re back as part of the promotion to celebrate getting picked up by a major streaming network.
“You must be dying in that outfit,” Erika whispers.
A drop of sweat runs down the back of my neck and under the collar of my tight leather jacket. “You have no idea. Want to trade?”
Desdemona, my character, is a half-demon college student. Inferno was a demon-owned club in the show, so whenever I was there I was dressed head to toe in tight black leather with chunkyplatform boots. Erika’s luckier tonight. She’s my co-star, and her character Gloria is part angel, so she’s wearing a light flowy dress with her gorgeous halo of dark curls pulled up high with strands of metallic gold filigree.
Her eyes sparkle as she laughs. “Not on your life. Are you good here? I think I should go rescue Toby before the photos.”
Toby sends us a desperate look from near the dance floor where he’s been cornered by several fans. In the show, Toby’s werewolf family is a biker gang called The Wild Things, so there are plenty of bikers, demons and the occasional angel wandering around in the crowd.
“Go on, get your boy.”
“He’s not my boy!” she hisses under her breath.
Toby plays Erika’s werewolf love interest in the show, and there’ve been bets going all year among the cast about when they’re finally going to get together for real. I might tease her, but I never joined the bets because I know she actually likes him. She’s just afraid the relationship would be doomed if the public found out.
As soon as she’s gone, a slender guy with glasses and a ponytail slides into her place. “Hey, I’m Keith. Do you have a second?”
“Hi Keith.” I smile, frantically trying to remember if I know him or not. Something about him seems familiar.
“I run a fan community for the book series. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”
“Saving the Blog! Of course, yeah!”
His face lights up. “I read that you know the books, but I wasn’t sure if it was true or just something you said, you know?”
“Hah, I wish. I was actually embarrassingly obsessed with them in high school. You should’ve seen me when Tamika was around. I fangirledhard.Like, the actual author? For real? So what’s your question?”
“Okay, um… So, in episode four, when the zombie rats are blocking the way into the access tunnel under the library, in the books, Des reveals her demonic animal affinity for the first time, but in the show, you just slash through them with your scythe. Do you know if they’re planning on cutting that ability out? Because it’s a big part of?—”
“The third book, yeah I know. It was a budget thing. Nobody was sure if the show would do well enough to get a second season let alone a third so they tried to cut out magic effects unless they were really important. The scriptwriters worked directly with Tamika and she signed off on any big plot changes so I’m sure they’ll figure it out if we make it that far into the story.”
“Sorry! We have to steal Quinn,” Toby says, interrupting with a hand on my elbow. “Time to work.”
“Nice to meet you, Keith,” I call as my co-stars guide me away.
The next half hour goes by in a blur of photos and autographs, including one with Keith and the three of us. By the time we stop for a break, I’m dying for something to drink and half wondering if I should look up the first signs of heatstroke. I break away from the group and head to the bar, my steps falling naturally in time with the thump thump thump of the music. Dizzying colored laser effects dance around the room in time with it.
I squeeze between a couple of the biker extras at the bar. They look good. Really good, actually. I don’t remember the set costumes looking quite so authentic up close, but these guys fill them out nicely. They have a lot of ink and some scary looking scars, and I can’t quite tell if it’s makeup, or if they were chosen because they already fit the part. Staring too hard seems rude.
“Are you guys as ready to get out of these clothes as I am?”
One of the bikers starts coughing like he just choked on his beer. He’s tall and built, with unruly auburn hair a few shades darker than my own. A small silver barbell cuts through his eyebrow and solid black bands are tattooed around his biceps and forearms.
The other pounds him on his back. “Excuse me?”
“The costumes? The AC must be fighting for its life because I’m dying in all this leather.” I blink up into a pair of sky blue eyes. What does he look like out of costume? Because dressed up like this looks good on him. He has short dark blond hair and a full beard. His arms are covered in a motley patchwork of ink, and it stretches all the way up onto his neck. No way that’s makeup.
“Is it too late or can I get a picture with the three of you?” a girl in a sparkly dress asks.
“It’s no problem.” I climb onto a bar stool between them, and get up on my knees so I can be tall enough to rest an arm on each of their shoulders. They must be extras because they sure don’t seem to know how to pose. “Put your arms around my waist, guys. For the camera.”
I give her a sassy grin and raise one hand, throwing devil horns with my pinkie and index fingers raised. The one picture turns into two, turns into another mini-photoshoot when peoplenotice what we’re doing. The whole time, I can feel the heat of their arms behind me, and where their hands are wrapped tight at my waist. It holds me steady and for once tonight the extra warmth isn’t a bad thing.
