Sleeping Beauty and the Demon (18 page)

A half hour before the show started on opening night, Rose pulled her costume out of the wardrobe and eyed it with distaste. Comprised of fishnet stockings, black elbow-length gloves, and a tiny leotard covered in sequins, the costume was daring to say the least.

She sought Drago out to complain. “Don’t you think I ought to wear a skirt of some sort—to cover my legs?” she asked.

He drew her to him. “Showing your magnificent legs is the idea. Remember, distraction is the key.”

Rose took a glance around to make sure they were alone in the dressing room. “But you don’t need an attractive assistant to distract the audience. Your magic is real.”

“You’re right. I could do the show with my eyes closed,” he joked, “But then I couldn’t see your fabulous legs.”

She laughed—and it felt good because she’d been close to tears all day.

“Now hurry and dress darling. We open in twenty minutes.”

Rose’s gut clenched.
Can I really do this . . . perform in front of hundreds of people?
She couldn’t erase her self-doubt. As a result, her nerves soared to a faulty high. Drago seemed to sense her apprehension because he gave her an enormous hug.

Archibald McMillan entered the dressing room and grinned. “Break it up, you two lovebirds.” He extended his hand to Drago. “You’re about to make us some serious money. Are you ready, Starkov?”

While Drago shook McMillan’s hand, Rose studied the thin manager. Pencil-necked and clean-shaven, he stood even taller than his client. McMillan reminded her of a giraffe. And while he wasn’t the warmest character in the world, he was savvy to the ins-and-outs of show business.

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” Drago replied.

“Right then. I suggest you slip into that slinky costume, Rose. Meanwhile, I’ll tell the house to open the doors.” McMillan strode to the door then stopped and looked back. “It’s show time, folks!”

Nausea stuttered up her throat. She must have gone pale since Drago squeezed her hand. “What have I been saying all along? You can do this, darling.”

She managed a smile. “If you say so . . .”

“I’ll meet you in the wings in five minutes. We need to get into position.”

She nodded before Drago left the dressing room in his formal finery. Trying to convince herself that they were simply holding another rehearsal without an audience, she changed into the minuscule costume and headed out the door, too.

A swelling overture swept through the theater. From the wings, Rose stole a look at the auditorium. It was filled to the brim. Judging by the expressions on the patrons’ faces, some were wholly skeptical while others were wholly fanatical. The varied looks told Rose that the stakes had risen since Drago’s time at the Sunshine Theater.

Pulse thrumming, she stepped onstage behind Drago. Thunderous applause greeted them and when Drago introduced her as his wife, the applause increased.

With trembling feet, Rose took a step forward. That’s when she spotted Patrick and Anthony in the second row.

CHAPTER 20

T
he theater fell into a surreal silence around Rose. In the back of her mind, she knew people were actually talking but as she watched Drago’s mouth move, she couldn’t make out the words. Anxiousness crawled up her spine. Her stare flitted back to Patrick who gave her an emphatic scowl. Meanwhile, Anthony flung her one of his sour expressions.

Rose turned to Drago. He’d locked eyes with Patrick and Anthony, too. But in keeping with his professional persona, he smiled their way and went on with the show. His composure helped Rose snap out of her nervous fog. She and Drago went on to perform the “Sawing a Woman in Half” trick and the “Boxed Person with Missing Abdomen” illusion. Then Drago temporarily hypnotized a half dozen people with highly entertaining results.

The spectacular show, with its fanfare of exotic sets, birds, and dancers, couldn’t have gone better.

Perspiring, Drago escaped into the wings afterward and growled instructions to Archibald. “Now that the show’s over, don’t let anyone backstage! Do you understand?”

“Got it,” McMillan replied.

“I mean anyone.” Drago said. “And you held the reporters outside, right?”

“Yup.” McMillan pushed his hat back on his head. “You seem especially testy tonight, Starkov. What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine. Just do as I say.”

McMillan shot him a contemptuous look but left it at that.

Rose found Drago backstage and rushed into his arms. “You saw them, too? Patrick and Anthony, I mean.”

“I saw them all right. Why the hell can’t they leave us alone?”

“How did you remain so calm during the show?”

“Why give them the power?” He paused. “At least during the performance.”

She drew back. “
During
the performance?”

“Now I’m going to teach O’Leary a lesson once and for all.”

“Don’t hurt him!” Rose cried.

His eyes turned dark. “Why? Do you still have feelings for him?”

“He was never anything more than a friend. But I broke his heart.”

“He’s a big boy, Rose.”

“Let it go,” she pleaded. “We’re married now.”

That seemed to settle Drago down. “Maybe you’re right.” The redness drained from his face. “I have what he wants, and nothing will change that.” Struggling to compose himself, he left her in order to change.

“Rose?” Patrick’s voice stopped her cold. She wheeled around and saw him coming up the side steps of the stage. A security guard barred his way. Emotions tore at Rose. Should she talk to him or send him away?

Finally, she gave the guard permission to let Patrick continue up the stairs.

“How were you allowed to stay inside the theater?” she asked.

“My cousin moonlights here as an usher.” Fidgeting with his hat, he gave her a smile. Half of his face was slightly misaligned and she realized that his jaw must not have healed properly after Drago pounded his face. “Anthony is here, too. He’s waiting for me in the lobby.”

“I know. I saw both of you in the audience.”

“You look well, Rose.”

“You should go, Patrick. If my husband sees you—”

“That’s right.” He cut her short. “You’re married to that monster now.”

“Monster? How dare you!”

He stepped closer. “The police have discovered scandalous things about your husband. Furthermore, Richard Bellum is working with us to expose Dragomir Starkov as a fake.”

Alarm pulsed through her.
Richard hasn’t stopped his antics . . .

“You’re in a dangerous situation. I’m urging you to leave Drago,” Patrick said softly.

“I won’t leave him. In fact, I’ll be relaying this information to him.” She lifted her chin.

“I’m sure you will, but it won’t matter. When Bellum gets done with Starkov, he’ll be the laughingstock of the nation—and you’ll sink into humiliation alongside him.”

She swayed on her feet. “What do you mean?”

“This is your chance to get out, Rose.”

“I’m perfectly fine where I am.”

“Look at yourself.” Patrick’s eyes roved over her scanty costume. “Look what you’ve lowered yourself to.”

“Thank you for the warning, Patrick, but I have no intention of abandoning my husband,” she repeated. “Now leave before I fetch him myself.”

With pain in his eyes, Patrick nodded. He treaded down the stairs and disappeared into the lobby. Meanwhile, Rose turned to find Drago. To her surprise, he was hidden in the shadows, fists clenched.

“I heard your conversation,” he growled. “It took everything I had to stop myself from pummeling that bastard all over again.”

She sucked in a breath. “I had it in hand.”

“I’m proud of you,” Drago ground out.

“What do you think the police have discovered about you?”

“I can only imagine.”

She went to him and touched his jacket lapel. “And what are we going to do about Bellum?”

“He’s a jackass who doesn’t deserve to live.”

“You can’t kill him!” Repulsion tinged her words.

“I’m not going to kill him,” Drago said. “But I am going to scare him into keeping his mouth shut.”

Later that night, Drago stormed off to tinker in his workshop. Alone in their apartment, Rose lay in bed, listening to the sounds outside the window. Motorcars beeped loudly, streetcars hummed along their tracks, and pedestrians scurried to late night activities.

The noises made it impossible for her to sleep so she got out of bed and threw open the window. Shades of autumn had settled over New York, bringing with them a biting wind. As Rose breathed in the crisp air, a soft knock at the door made her spin around.

“Who is it?” she called out as she shut the window.

“It’s Olivia.”

She hastened to the door, thrust it open, and pulled Olivia into a hug. “It’s so good to see you!”

“Oh, Rose. We’ve been so worried about you!”

Rose could feel Olivia’s heart beat wildly. Her adoptive sister stepped inside the warm apartment and removed her coat.

“How did you find me?”

“Drago’s manager gave me your address,” Olivia replied.

“He did?”

“I told him who I was. After that didn’t work, I flirted with him a little.”

Rose smiled and invited her to sit on the sofa.

“I came because Anthony saw the magic show tonight,” Olivia admitted.

“I know. He was there with Patrick.”

Surprise lit Olivia’s eyes. “Did you speak to them?”

“I spoke to Patrick.” She paused. “Unfortunately, he didn’t have very nice things to say to me.”

“We’ve been so concerned about you. Mama and Papa are beside themselves.”

“It all happened so fast,” Rose explained as she joined Olivia on the sofa.

“What happened so fast? Drago sweeping you off your feet?”

“Yes.”

Olivia took in a breath. “It hurts that you haven’t contacted me.”

“I sent a telegram telling you and your family that I got married.”

Olivia shot her a forlorn look. “I was talking about
after
you came back to New York.” She paused. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Rose?”

“I’ve never been happier.” She sighed. “Now I have someone to belong to.”

Puzzlement washed over Olivia’s face. “You’ve always belonged to our family.”

“Not really,” Rose murmured. “You have no idea what it’s like to be adopted.”

Olivia squared her shoulders. “Drago isn’t the answer to all your problems. Don’t you wonder about what the police and the press have uncovered about him?”

“I think Patrick just said that to scare me.”

“No, it’s true. Anthony claims that everyone is banding together to discredit Drago.”

Rose wrung her hands. “Then I wish I knew what Richard and Patrick know. I’d be able to if I could polish my parents’ gift of clairvoyance.”

“You wish you could see the future at will?”

“Yes. I only see snatches—and there are long intervals between visions.”

Olivia shook her head. “No, thank you. Knowing what’s going to happen would be a terrible gift.”

“I think it would solve a lot of things.”

The dark-haired girl crossed her arms in protest as Rose went on. “Although I can’t tell what will happen, I know someone who can.”

Olivia clutched her handbag tightly. “Who?”

“My mother.”

“No. Mama said your parents want no contact with you until after your twenty-first birthday. Until they know it’s safe for you to seek them out.”

“You don’t understand! Drago has telepathic abilities and he senses that Morvina is close to me
now
.”

“And you say you’re happy?” Olivia quipped.

“Okay, maybe I’m a little concerned.”

“You have every right to be.”

Rose considered Olivia’s words. Finally, she wrung her hands. “I guess I should give up on telling the future.”

Olivia studied her disappointment. Then she let out a resigned huff. “Maybe you can find out where your parents are from clues in the photo album Mama showed you.”

“That’s a great idea!” Rose said. “Would you be a dear and bring it to me?”

“Why don’t you pay Mama and Papa a visit yourself?”

“They’re bent on keeping me away from Drago.”

Olivia’s lips quirked. “I don’t know if I should . . .”

“Please? And before the weather gets too brutal, I’d love to have my favorite winter coat.”

Objection shadowed Olivia’s face. “It’s a lot to ask.”

“What are sisters for?” Rose smiled.

“All right. I’ll be back in an hour.”

As promised, Olivia returned, but her face was awash with concern. She handed Rose the photo album and said, “I looked for the coat.”

“And?” Rose asked.

“It’s been cut up.”

“Cut up?”

Olivia gulped and nodded. “I found shreds of it at the bottom of your closet.”

“My God,” Rose muttered.
Has Morvina been inside the Marconi home?

Trying to stomp down her sense of alarm, she sucked in a breath. Then she sat on the sofa and flipped through the photo album Olivia handed her. Several minutes later, she came across a faded article about the séance room the Hayes set up on the Upper East Side. “This is it! A lot of mediums live next door to their séance rooms. My parents might still reside there!”