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Jean-Claude held his other hand out to Aubrey. I tried to pull away, and he whispered, "No fear, I will protect you, I swear it."
I believed him, I don't know why, maybe because I had no one else to believe. He led Aubrey and me to the front of the stage. His rich voice caressed the crowd. "We hope you enjoyed our little melodrama. It was very realistic, wasn't it?"
The audience shifted uncomfortably, fear plain in their faces.
He smiled out at them and dropped Aubrey's hand. He unbuttoned my sleeve and pushed it back, exposing the burn scar. The cross was dark against my skin. The audience was silent, still not understanding. Jean-Claude pulled the lace away from his chest, exposing his own cross-shaped burn.
There was a moment of stunned silence, then applause thundered around the room. Screams and shouts, and whistles roared around us.
They thought I was a vampire, and it had all been an act. I stared at Jean-Claude's smiling face and the matching scars: his chest, my arm.
Jean-Claude's hand pulled me down into a bow. As the applause finally began to fade, Jean-Claude whispered, "We need to talk, Anita. Your friend Catherine's life depends on your actions."
I met his eyes and said, "I killed the things that gave me this scar."
He smiled broadly, showing just a hint of fang. "What a lovely coincidence. So did I."
Chapter 7
Jean-Claude led us through the curtains at the back of the stage. Another vampire stripper was waiting to go on. He was dressed like a gladiator, complete with metal breastplate and short sword. "Talk about an act that's hard to follow. Shit." He jerked the curtain open and stalked through.
Catherine came through, her face so pale her freckles stood out like brown ink spots. I wondered if I looked as pale? Naw. I didn't have the skin tone for it.
"My God, are you all right?" she asked.
I stepped carefully over a line of cables that snaked across the backstage floor and leaned against the wall. I began to relearn how to breathe. "I'm fine," I lied.
"Anita, what is going on? What was that stuff on stage? You aren't a vampire any more than I am."
Aubrey made a silent hiss behind her back, fangs straining, making his lips bleed. His shoulders shook with silent laughter.
Catherine gripped my arm. "Anita?"
I hugged her, and she hugged me back. I would not let her die like this. I would not let it happen. She pulled away from me and stared into my face. "Talk to me."
"Shall we talk in my office?" Jean-Claude asked.
"Catherine doesn't need to come."
Aubrey strolled closer. He seemed to glimmer in the twilight dark, like a jewel. "I think she should come. It does concern her intimately." He licked his bloody lips, tongue pink and quick as a cat's.
"No, I want her out of this, any way I can get her out of it."
"Out of what? What are you talking about?"
Jean-Claude asked, "Is she likely to go to the police?"
"Go to the police about what?" Catherine asked, her voice getting louder with each question.
"If she did?"
"She would die," Jean-Claude said.
"Wait just a minute," Catherine said. "Are you threatening me?"
Catherine's face was gaining a lot of color. Anger did that to her. "She'll go to the police," I said.
"It is your choice."
"I'm sorry, Catherine, but it would be better for us all if you didn't remember any of this."
"That's it! We are leaving, now." She grabbed my hand, and I didn't stop her.
Aubrey moved up behind her. "Look at me, Catherine."
She stiffened. Her fingers dug into my hand; incredible tension vibrated down her muscles. She was fighting it. God, help her. But she didn't have any magic, or crucifixes. Strength of will was not enough, not against something like Aubrey.
Her hand fell away from my arm, fingers going limp all at once. Breath went out of her in a long, shuddering sigh. She stared at something just a little over my head, something I couldn't see.
I whispered, "Catherine, I'm sorry."
"Aubrey can wipe her memory of this night. She will think she drank too much, but that will not undo the damage."
"I know. The only thing that can break Aubrey's hold on her is his death."
"She will be dust in her grave before that happens."
I stared at him, at the blood stain on his shirt. I smiled a very careful smile.
"This little wound was luck and nothing more. Do not let it make you overconfident," Aubrey said.
Overconfident; now that was funny. I barely managed not to laugh. "I understand the threat, Jean-Claude. Either I do what you want or Aubrey finishes what he started with Catherine."
"You have grasped the situation, ma petite."
"Stop calling me that. What is it exactly that you want from me?"
"I believe Willie McCoy told you what we wanted."
"You want to hire me to check into the vampire murders?"
"Exactly."
"This," I motioned to Catherine's blank face, "was hardly necessary. You could have beaten me up, threatened my life, offered me more money. You could have done a lot of things before you did this."
He smiled, lips tight. "All that would have taken time. And let us be truthful. In the end you would still have refused us."
"Maybe."
"This way, you have no choice."
He had a point. "Okay, I'm on the case. Satisfied?"
"Very," Jean-Claude said, his voice very soft. "What of your friend?"
"I want her to go home in a cab. And I want some guarantees that old long-fang isn't going to kill her anyway."
Aubrey laughed, a rich sound that ended in a hysterical hissing. He was bent over, shaking with laughter. "Long-fang, I like that."
Jean-Claude glanced at the laughing vampire and said, "I will give you my word that she will not be harmed if you help us."
"No offense, but that's not enough."
"You doubt my word." His voice growled low and warm, angry.
"No, but you don't hold Aubrey's leash. Unless he answers to you you can't guarantee his behavior."
Aubrey's laughter had softened to a few faint giggles. I had never heard a vampire giggle before. It wasn't a pleasant sound. The laughter died completely, and he straightened. "No one holds my leash, girl. I am my own master."
"Oh, get real. If you were over five hundred years old, and a master vampire, you'd have cleaned up the stage with me. As it was" - I flattened my hands palms up - "you didn't, which means you're very old but not your own master."
He growled low in his throat, face darkening with anger. "How dare you?"
"Think, Aubrey, she judged your age within fifty years. You are not a master vampire, and she knew that. We need her."
"She needs to learn some humility." He stalked towards me, body rigid with anger, hands clenching and unclenching in the air.
Jean-Claude stepped between us. "Nikolaos is expecting us to bring her, unharmed."
Aubrey hesitated. He snarled; his jaws snapped on empty air. The smack of his teeth biting together was a dull, angry sound.
They stared at each other. I could feel their wills straining through the air, like a distant wind. It made the skin at the back of my neck crawl. It was Aubrey who looked away, with an angry graceful blink. "I will not anger, my master." He emphasized "my," making it clear that Jean-Claude was not "his" master.
I swallowed hard twice, and it sounded loud. If they wanted me scared, they were doing a hell of a job. "Who is Nikolaos'?"
Jean-Claude turned to look at me, his face calm and beautiful. "That question is not ours to answer."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
He smiled, lips curling carefully so no fang showed. "Let us put your friend in a cab, out of harm's way."
"What of Monica?"
He grinned then, fangs showing; he looked genuinely amused. "Are you worried for her safety?"
It hit me then - the impromptu bachelorette party, there only being the three of us. "She was the lure to get Catherine and me down here."
He nodded, once down, once up.
I wanted to go back out and smash Monica's face in. The more I thought about the idea, the better it sounded. As if by magic, she parted the curtains and came back. I smiled at her, and it felt good.
