Waiting in the Wings (Soulgirls) (6 page)

“Only if she really wants to but—” Her hesitation to complete the thought warned him of her concern. Her nails drummed against a wooden surface. “What Heidi knows, Minion almost certainly does and she and Kiki are really close. Minion also adores shiny objects, toys and chocolate…”

So the pet demon can be bribed…

“Sir, I know you want to help Kiki, but please don’t hurt Minion. She’s crazy and unpredictable and completely without a malicious bone in her body. I can try to send Kiki a text, Minion always reads her phone, but that might alert Heidi, and I don’t know what they would do.”

“No, thank you, you’ve told me quite a bit.” He soothed. “And I appreciate it. I will not hurt the little demon. You have my word.”

But the potential to trade one hostage for another…

That he could do.

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.