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Wicked After Midnight

Page 37

“But Lenoir is expecting me tomorrow morning.”

Her nostrils flared, and she flashed red with anger. “Lenoir”—she paused dramatically—“can wait.”

I couldn’t turn red, but I could still be pretty scary. I drew myself up tall despite the silly costume, pulled my lips back over my fangs, and took on the predator’s mantle that I spent so much time suppressing. Charline swallowed hard, turned a sickly shade of pink, and made herself smaller. Even if we both knew that I didn’t want her blood, it was clear enough that I could spill it all over the dusty wooden boards if I so desired.

“Then I take the next day off. Whatever day it is. I haven’t had a day off since I showed up here, and I’m damned well taking one. Got it?”

“Of course. Of course. Only fair,” she muttered, hurrying away from me with tapping slippers.

I grinned to myself. I still had it.

* * *

Instead of going directly to the pachyderm after the show, I whipped my arm from Auguste’s hold and ran upstairs to rifle through Limone’s vanity for a pen and paper. I found an elegant stationery set marked with skulls and peonies, still wrapped in its ribbon and including a quill and acid-green ink. It wasn’t exactly my style, but it would have to do.

Monsieur,

I am regrettably detained tomorrow. I will attend you the day after, when my schedule is entirely open. Such is the life of a star.

Yours,

La Demitasse

Double-checking the note once more for silly mistakes, I folded it and skipped downstairs to put it in Blaise’s hand.

“Take this directly to Monsieur Lenoir, please.”

He stared at the paper, then looked up at me quizzically. “Désolé, mademoiselle, but I’m not allowed to leave Paradis.”

I’d seen him running so many errands in the cabaret that I’d assumed he performed such duties all over town.

“Why not?”

He shrugged. “Not sure, mademoiselle. But Bea says I mustn’t, so I don’t. Never been outside.”

I fought the urge to crush Blaise in a hug. A young, vibrant, lively boy, and he’d never been outside? Never ridden the elevator up the Tower? Never danced through the streets or played ball with the other daimon boys under a bright blue sky? It was possibly the most depressing thing I’d ever heard. But since it didn’t seem to bother him too much, I didn’t want to make it seem like a big deal.

“I’ll ask Auguste, then. Thank you.”

He ran off, and I found Auguste and sent him on his errand. As I passed the open door of Blue’s workroom, I found the old daimon bustling around a huge dress on a mannequin.

“Is that for the ball?”

She sighed and poked her needle through a ruffle. “Of course, kid. Everything is. You ever been to a cabaret ball?”

“Nope. Never been to a ball at all.” I was pretty sure Homecoming at Riverdale High didn’t count.

She shook her head sadly and jabbed the needle through the fabric, pulling it taut again and again. “It ain’t the sort from fairy tales. Normally, I’d tell the girls to relax and enjoy it. But I think I just need to remind you to step lively and not kill anybody that grabs you wrong.” She gave me a significant look over her half-moon glasses. “Daimons and Bludmen got a lot in common, but you got to understand. We’re not predators. We’re prey. The girls here need what the men give them and don’t mind the exchange most clients demand. Like eating a food that ain’t your favorite—you can still live on it, can’t you? Don’t judge ’em for it. If you don’t want something, just disappear. Understand?”

I wasn’t sure that I did, but I ran a hand over the thick corset and long, frothy skirt. “This is for me, isn’t it?”

She nodded, a pin sticking out from the corner of her mouth. “I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but be careful out there. You stay in Paradis, you’re mostly safe. You leave here, bad things could happen. Did they tell you Victoire disappeared?”

I shook my head. “No one tells me anything.”

“They keep it quiet. But it’s getting worse.”

I glanced into the hallway, too worried to ask if girls ever disappeared from the pachyderm.

“You got somewhere to be, don’t you, kid?”

I sighed and looked at the door. “More of the same.”

“Girls come here, they want to be stars. You know what stars want?”

“What?”

“They want to be girls again. And they can’t. Not ever. Now, go.”

I hurried out the door and down the hall, feeling for the first time as if I was avoiding something besides grasping hands. Blue’s words had made me feel small and helpless, and the pachyderm and a throat full of blood seemed a good enough place to hide my blazing cheeks from her pity. I darted through the drizzle, head down, and ducked into the elephant’s leg, leaving my waterlogged boots to dry on a step. Upstairs I found the duke, the first man who’d written me and the first one who’d purchased my time. When I saw him standing there, wine bottle in hand, my heart sank. What if he wanted more than what I’d given him last time? What if he wanted what the daimon girls were glad to provide?

And if not him, what of the man with the deepest coin purse tomorrow?

“Bonsoir, monsieur,” I said coyly.

“La Demitasse, you’re a vision.” It was a lie. I was sodden and shaking. He poured a glass of wine and held it out enticingly. I could smell the unicorn blood and snow from across the room, and I wanted it. Badly. All of it. I bit my lip. I had to take control. And there was only one way.

I sashayed across the room, took the goblet from his hand, and sipped delicately, savoring the kiss of blood and magic on my tongue. But then I set it down and stepped close to whisper in his ear.

“It is delicious, monsieur. But there’s something I want even more.”

I could smell the change in blood flow as his face went red and he swallowed hard. I untied his cravat and pulled him toward the couch by his jacket lapels. He followed willingly, the powerful diplomat reduced to a hungry, overexcited little boy. He said nothing, his mouth hanging open like a randy goat’s.

With a hand on his chest, I shoved him back onto the couch and straddled him.

“Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly,” I whispered.

And then my teeth found his neck. It was becoming my best way to shut someone up.

20

I fled barefoot from the elephant like Cinderella being chased by her glass slippers, a ticket from the Louvre wadded up in my fist, the only helpful thing I’d found in his pockets. The duke hadn’t spoken again, had simply jerked and moaned when my blood magic helped him find his relief. It was grotesque but helpful, the way that happened with my clients. I giggled to myself, considering how this happened every night. I had become silent but deadly.

I had a foot on the stairs up to my room when Vale called my name, his voice soft and urgent as it echoed down the hall. We both knew there was no one else around to hear it. My heart lurched as it always did when he was near, but my brain was impatient. I really did need sleep, not to be up half the night thinking about the mysterious brigand. Still, I stopped. I couldn’t not stop.

I turned back to wait for him. He didn’t hurry. He never did.

“Bébé, it’s all set. Run up to your room to lose the bustle and grab your boots, and we’ll take some blud and get your book. And maybe some information, too.” He held out a disreputable umbrella and grinned. “Enough room for us both under here, if you stay close.”

I dug a bare toe into a knot in the wood floor. “I can’t. Tomorrow’s the finale and some sort of ball. I have to get sleep.”

He shook his head. “Oh, bébé. I do not understand you. You’ll go to the gardens, you’ll meet men in that ridiculous pachyderm, you’ll go to Lenoir. But I try to help you find your friend, and you brush me off like a pestering child. Have you forgotten the whole reason you’re here?”

Anger flared, my cheeks going hot and my fangs bared. “I didn’t forget. I can’t stop thinking about Cherie. Everything I do is for the sole purpose of staying here, to buy more time, to find more clues.” I held up the ticket. “See this? The duke was at the Louvre today, and there’s some sort of code on here, but I can’t even go there by myself to investigate because I have no freedom during museum hours. I’m constantly trapped. I don’t like what I do. I need the blood to live, and I need the men for the blood, and I need the performing for the men. I’m caught here.”

“You’re not caught right now. Come with me. We’ll be back in an hour.”

I shook my head again but with warning this time. “I told you. I can’t.”

For a moment, he just breathed, watching me. “You’ll do anything for anyone. Except me. And except Cherie.”

“Oh, I’m the one who won’t do what I’m supposed to? Aren’t you supposed to be taking over the family business? Aren’t you running away, too, hiding in Paris from your real responsibilities?”

“For you, bébé! For you!” The shout was sharp, and he strangled it quickly. He looked me up and down in my ridiculous costume and chuckled bitterly. “We both have issues with men who want things we don’t wish to give, I suppose. Except I run away from mine, and you run right toward yours and start sucking on it.”

I exhaled in a growl and poked him in the chest. “I like you, but you make it so damned hard, Vale! Everyone else here worships me, and you just push and push and push.”

“I could not have said it better myself.”

“I thought after last night—”

His grin curled up, his eyes dancing. “What about last night?”

“I thought we’d found something good.”

“Oh, we did. I would like to find it again.” He licked his lip, and my knees nearly melted.

“Then stop pissing me off and pushing me away, and start wooing me, you ass.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">

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