The Calling (10 page)

Davin pulled the long, black car to the curb. Romney opened the front passenger door and helped Miki slip inside.

“Paige, sit here beside me,” Miki said. “Please. I'm cold.” Miki was no longer shivering, but she wanted only Paige beside her. Even Davin felt remote on her other side.

The car reeked with the smell of burned cloth. For the first time Miki noticed that the front of Davin's silk shirt was charred and tattered. Was his chest covered with burns the same as his hands?

All the way home she caught glimpses of his hands on the steering wheel. His pale white skin was reddened. Watery blisters pocked the backs of his hands, and small blemishes shown between incredibly blue veins. Davin seemed not to notice. He drove with precision and skill, straight to Miki's door.

How did he know where she lived? She hadn't directed him. Paige had said nothing the whole drive home. Miki was sure now that Davin had been the one following her the other night. He had accompanied her home even though she had told him she would prefer to go home alone. Had he been concerned with her safety, or curious about where she lived? This was something to think about or ask him about later.

He stopped at the curb, saying nothing. Paige unlatched her door and pulled Miki across the seat, helping her step onto the sidewalk and stand.

“Davin—” Miki wanted to insist that he get some medical attention.

“Please. Do not worry about me. Take care of yourself. Take care of Miki, Paige. She must dance tomorrow.”

Tomorrow? No way could Davin dance by the next day. But Miki said nothing, didn't argue.

The car sped away the minute Paige closed the door, leaving her and Miki watching them leave.

“Come on, Miki. You can't worry about Davin.” Paige read her mind, sensing that she was more concerned about Davin than she was about herself.

Miki was grateful that her mother wasn't home. Paige helped Miki get into a nightgown, and then rubbed her ankle with burn ointment she found in the bathroom cabinet.

“Please don't tell my mother, Paige. It doesn't hurt so much. And she would only worry needlessly.” Miki looked at the red streak. “I think putting that ice on it helped a lot.”

“I'm going to heat you some milk, Miki,” Paige said. “And put some honey in it. Maybe something stronger if I can find anything. You stay right here and try to relax.”

For a few minutes after Paige left Miki did relax. She sent her mind into a limbo that allowed no thinking, no replaying of the accident. Nothing but a soft, cottony warmth.

Just as Paige returned carrying a saucer and cup, however, something clicked into place.

“My skirt wasn't purple, Paige.”

“Your skirt? Of course it wasn't purple, Miki. You never wear purple. What made you say that?”

“At the curb where the burned skirt lay there was purple … something purple underneath it.” Miki stared at Paige, both thinking, remembering at the same time.

“Rima wore a purple scarf around her neck.” Paige sat on the bed and set the cup and saucer on the bedside table. “A chiffon scarf.”

“If my chiffon skirt would burn, so would a scarf.”

“Do you think Rima lit her scarf and held it to your skirt without your seeing her?”

“I—I—” Miki shook her head. “I don't know what to think.”

“She hates you. That's obvious.”

“Enough—enough to—”

“To hurt you? Miki, you went up in flames instantly. I was looking right at you. I was too terrified to move. If Davin—if Davin hadn't acted so fast …”

Miki leaned back on her pillows, completely drained of all strength. Did Rima hate her enough to kill her?

Fourteen

D
ESPITE WHAT
D
AVIN
had said about rehearsal, Miki pleaded a sick stomach and stayed in bed all the next day. No way could she go to the theater and dance as if nothing had happened. Especially now that she had the idea in her head that Rima may have tried to kill her or hurt her badly.

That night Davin called her. “You are missing rehearsal, Miki. Are you ill?”

Ill? Most people would say sick. This wasn't the first time Davin's language had turned formal on her, and she didn't know what it meant. Maybe that he was angry? Did he talk like this when he was angry with her?

“I—I need a couple of days off, Davin. I'll be there Monday, Davin. I promise. I didn't feel well today. But your—your hands—”

“I am fine, Miki. You should never worry about me.”

“I care about you, Davin. People worry about people they care for.” She could say this to him. He must know she liked him. She had certainly shown it. Maybe she'd be embarrassed if he knew how much.

“And I care about you. You must dance with us.” His voice ordered her to be there with them. Ordered her to dance.

“Monday. I promise.” She hung up slowly and was surprised to find that she was frightened by his call. Frightened, not by what he'd said, but by his tone of voice. If she was really honest, she would admit that she was afraid to go back to the theater.

Afraid? Afraid of Davin? Of course not. How could she be afraid of Davin? Afraid of the rest of the troupe? Afraid of Rima? Her fear was sensible, but was she going to let Rima intimidate her? Going to say, oh, you like Davin
that
much? Oh, well, you can have him back. That wasn't like her at all. She considered herself tough, a fighter. You have to be tough to survive in the arts. Dance is terribly competitive. Wimps don't last. She had said that a million times. She and Paige said it to each other.

You can watch Rima, she advised herself. Now that you know how much she dislikes you, you can be more careful.

Maybe the real problem was that some of the magic was gone.

But that was silly. She'd get the magic back. The minute she stepped on that stage the magic would come back. She'd be able to forget all the problems and dance. Wouldn't she?

The phone rang again. She listened to the shrill bell and stared at it for three rings, four. Silly. She grabbed it up and then felt relieved to hear Paige's voice.

“Are you all right, Miki? You weren't at dance class. You didn't call Ms. Lawton, and she asked where you were. I didn't know what to tell her. Were you hurt worse than you thought?” Paige's voice was full of worry.

“No, I'm fine, Paige. I just had that slight burn on my leg and a little one on my arm. I'm fine.” She hesitated. What to tell Paige? The truth? “I guess—I think I needed a day off. A day to let the world spin without me.” She tried to laugh.

“What happened to you is enough to make me want to stay in bed for a week. Maybe longer. Your mother find out?”

“No. She accepted stomach flu as an excuse. Even said several people at work had it. But Davin called. He said I must be back at rehearsal. I begged off till Monday, but I think he was angry.”

“Angry? At you? Surely not. Maybe something else was going on for him. Or maybe he was in pain, but he thought if he was rehearsing with burned hands, you could dance with only a small burn. He's probably worried about you, too. Hey, maybe he missed you.” Paige seemed to have all the answers. Miki wished she had a few she could be sure of.

“Paige, will you go to rehearsal with me Monday? We can ask if you can try out for the troupe. If they say no, that will be an excuse for you to be there, and you can stay and watch the rehearsal. I don't think that will be a problem for them.”

“I don't know, Miki. I'd like to do that for you, but I'm not sure I like those people. Romney and Kyle are okay, a little strange, but okay. Primavera is even weirder, but I think she likes you. Rima. Well, keep your eye on Rima.”

“I've already decided to do that. We might have been imagining things yesterday. Maybe—” Miki couldn't think of any good reason why Rima's scarf should have been in the gutter under her burned skirt, but maybe there was one. “She's probably just jealous. I think she likes Davin.”

“I like Davin.”

“Please, please go with me, Paige. I've spooked myself out, thinking too much. I know once I get there and start to dance, I'll be fine, but getting there seems to be a problem.”

“Okay, Miki. I'll go, but reluctantly. And only because you're my best friend in the whole world and my blood sister, and I'm really curious to see the show before it opens.”

“Thanks, Paige. You've saved my life.”

“And promise me one more thing.”

“What?”

“You'll come over for lunch tomorrow. Mom pointed out that you haven't been here for a long time, and how could I say you were busy being a vampire. She misses you. My whole family misses you. I don't know why.” Paige paused to let her teasing sink in. “But if you say no, I'll have to tell them the truth. That you're undead.”

Miki smiled. Leave it to Paige to make her feel better. “Okay, I will. You don't have to threaten me. I need some of your mother's home cooking. Tell her I'll come if she makes sweet rolls.”

“Hey, great idea. She'll make them for you, and we'll all benefit from that.”

Miki stopped thinking about anything except homemade sweet rolls and drifted off to sleep. The apartment was so quiet when she woke up, she even resorted to studying. She had three term papers due next week, and only one was close to finished. She'd been too distracted to care. She still had to graduate, she reminded herself. But school was so boring when put alongside dancing with her new friends.

Going to Paige's house was anything but boring. Late Sunday morning, Miki walked the mile instead of taking the bus. She needed the exercise and she wanted to make sure her leg wasn't going to hurt when she danced. She hardly noticed the burn, though. It really had been slight.

Paige's little brother, Joey, answered the doorbell when Miki pressed the button. “Hi, Miki. Where've you been? I missed you.”

Miki leaned down and hugged Joey, who was only six. An afterthought, Mrs. Anderson said when he wasn't listening. “And now our whole life revolves around him.” She would laugh when she said that. But Joey was pretty spoiled.

“Look at my new comic, Miki. You can read it to me.” Joey held out a fan of colored sheets. When Miki took it and looked at the cover, she shivered. The comic was about vampires. She looked at Paige, who was in the hall by then. Had she put Joey up to this?

Paige shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. This was a coincidence, but predictible, since last week Joey was obsessed with mummies.

“Do you believe in vampires, Miki? I love vampires.” Joey took the comic back and started reading it to himself. He didn't really need Miki's help. “I had a comic about Count Chocula, but this one is about real vampires.”

“He traded for it,” Mrs. Anderson said as they gathered in the kitchen as usual. The place smelled of the yeasty sweet rolls that Miki had ordered. Miki inhaled and her mouth watered. Mrs. Anderson, knowing what time Miki was to arrive, handed her a napkin holding two warm rolls she had just drizzled powdered sugar icing over. “They're best when they're hot. I never would have bought him that.”

Miki had to sort out the conversation. The subject was off sweet rolls and back to vampire comics.

“Vampires are pretty scary, Joey,” Miki said. “Won't reading that comic scare you?”

“Nah. You know what the politically correct name for vampires is?” Sometimes Joey surprised them all with his vocabulary.

“Geeze,” Mrs. Anderson said. “Where did he hear about being politically correct?”

“Right here.” Paige smiled.

“No, Joey, what is the politically correct name for vampires?” Miki played straight man.

“The life impaired.” Joey grinned, his smile short two teeth.

Miki looked at Paige again and they both laughed. Maybe this was just what Miki needed. A less than serious look at the idea of vampirism. Much less.

Now that he had everyone's attention, there was no shutting Joey up. “Did you hear about the vampire on a diet?”

“Nope.” Miki bit again.

“He was drinking I Can't Believe It's Not Blood. He bought it at his local Vampires 'R Us store.”

They couldn't not laugh, even though no one really wanted to encourage Joey. “You're going to replace Jay Leno on The Tonight Show' in a few years, Joey. Right?” Miki took his comic and flipped through it. It was standard fare. The vampires slept in coffins in an old castle and came out at night. They flew through the air on bat wings that were really their capes spread out wide. She handed the book back without following the story to the end. She knew how the vampires had to be killed so they couldn't return.

“Can I help with lunch, Mrs. Anderson?” Miki offered.

“It's under control. Why don't you and Paige set the table, though, and get your dad away from the television, Paige.”

Mr. Anderson was a sports-on-television freak. He had played football once, but was now slightly overweight and settled for being an armchair quarterback.

Lunch was really dinner as far as Miki was concerned. Pot roast with brown potatoes around it, buttered green beans with toasted almond slices, and a jelled salad with cherries and walnuts. Miki couldn't believe she was so hungry and she was embarrassed at how much she ate.

“Good, Miki,” Mrs. Anderson said. “You and Paige are both too thin.”

“Our partners will drop both of us tomorrow in the lifts.” Paige looked at Miki and giggled.

Partners. Davin. Miki's respite from thinking about her dance troupe hadn't lasted long.

Paige giggled again, a sound Miki loved to hear. Paige and Romney with their giggles. They'd make a pair. Miki leaned back and groaned. “Thanks, Mrs. Anderson, I needed that.”

I needed a very normal day, since I don't know what to expect tomorrow. “I'll help wash dishes.” She needed to keep busy, too, so she didn't have time to think.