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“Now that I know about the Circle’s involvement, no. But that ship has sailed. Just promise, okay?”
I cock my head curiously. “What will you give for my promise?”
Jade starts to roll her eyes, but obviously thinks better of it, remembering who she is talking to. Instead, she just smiles ruefully. “I should have known you would ask that. Nothing, because if I gave you something you’d find a way to turn it to your advantage in a way I wouldn’t like.”
Smart witch. She continues, “You should just promise because of your sense of honor. Though that is only if you have one.”
“I’ve killed men for lesser insults than questioning my honor,” I say, though there is no heat in it. I would upset both Gaspard and Andi if I killed the smart-mouthed Jade, and I still have things I want from both of them. Besides, she brought Andi into my orbit, so I suppose I owe her at least the small favor of her life.
Jade snorts and stands up. “Only a man insecure in something needs to lash out at people for questioning if it is there. Especially when it’s coming from someone like me. You don’t strike me as an insecure man.”
I shrug. “Sometimes it is just because I need to alleviate some boredom. Or because I need to make a point.” Or was planning on killing them anyway, I silently finish.
“My death would do neither of those things for you, so I think I’m safe. Just think about what I said, alright? I have to go. The dancers are on next.”
I’m slightly irritated at that. That means Jade has taken most of the time I could have been listening to Andi to tell me things that I already know. I suppose I should be glad that Andi has at least one friend who is loyal and worried about her well-being, but the older one gets, the easier it is to be selfish, so I am merely annoyed. Jade walks away without looking back, not waiting for my response. Disrespectful indeed. I’ll have to tell Gaspard to take her in hand. She’ll live longer that way.
Andi is singing La Vie en Rose as her closer, a classic that I do recognize, and somehow sounds better than the original, which shouldn’t be possible. How is a talent like Andi just singing in a backwater theater like this and not sold-out coliseums? She acts like this is the pinnacle of achievement, but there is better out there for her. Perhaps I’ll ask.
The number cleverly morphs into another Piaf classic Non, Je ne Regrette Rien, and Andi holds the final note in a big finish, crystal clear, yet warm and powerful. Her range is impressive, though I do not know enough about music to say exactly what it is, but she hits the highs and lows with equal ease and belts out the music with tasteful precision. The band finishes the accompaniment beneath her angelic voice, and then it cuts off. The players then applaud lightly at Andi, who does a playful curtsy and laughs. The drummer, a female, does a wolf whistle, and Andi laughs some more. She is radiant. Perhaps, I muse, this is like the family that she never really had, being a foster child. Perhaps that is why she doesn’t want to leave.
My eyes flick over to the erstwhile understudy. She looks like she’s sucked a lemon. I suppose I would too, if Andi were my competition. There’s no way that she will ever take Andi’s spot in the show. At least not without underhanded actions. The thought makes me frown. I’ll have Gaspard put our intelligence team on her, to research her comings and goings. There’s something about her and her attitude that I don't like. I could be wrong about her bad intentions, but I have not gotten to be seven hundred years old by being wrong very often.
Andi comes over to my table while I think. She’s still smiling, but the look morphs to one of concern. “Are you alright? You’ve got a terrible look on your face.”
I smooth out my frown and smile placidly at the woman before me. “Just thinking of business. It often brings out my more serious side.” The lie tumbles out easily. No need to worry Andi about her jealous understudy before more information is gathered.
“Okay,” she says, accepting my explanation easily. “But if you need to take care of something . . .”
“Trying to get rid of me again?” I smile, knowing this will get a rise from her.
“No! I just don’t want to take you from anything important.”
“I’m precisely where I want to be,” I tell her, rising from my table. “Is rehearsal over? Time to nap?”
“Told you my life was boring,” she grins sheepishly.
“Nonsense. I have scarcely enjoyed an afternoon more in a long time. But you need your rest before the show tonight.”
We walk through the auditorium and out to the lobby. Bright sun streams through the glass doors, and I wince. I take out my personal aerosol bottle and spray myself with more sunscreen.
“That smells good,” Andi remarks. “Like amber and something else.”
“African vanilla. It’s the sunscreen I told you about. They formulated the scent to my tastes.”
“They did a good job,” she tells me. I put on my sunglasses, and we exit the building. Sebastian is already in front, waiting for us. We are climbing into the car when I clock a strange man standing across the way, looking at us. He’s putting on a show of looking at his phone, but in his peripherals he’s watching Andi get into my car. I meet his eyes and narrow my gaze. He’s wearing a hat and is dressed like a tourist, but I know him. Abernathy Cane, Colton’s right-hand man. His Gaspard. His eyes widen as he recognizes me, and within a moment, he has disappeared, winking out of existence. I’m sure that he will be reporting to Colton.
Soon, the fun will really begin.
Chapter 12
Andi
The evening show goes smoothly. Julian sits at a table in the audience closest to the stage, staring at me broodingly while I sing. He practically fucks me with his eyes as I perform, making me feel like we are the only ones in the room. I try to avoid his gaze, but his intensity increases my awareness of the audience. But rather than making me nervous, it coaxes the best performance out of me that I’ve done in ages. My voice soars with the music. Little shivers of anticipation dance across my skin, and all I can think of is that kiss.
That stupid, terrible-idea kiss. It was barely more than nothing, just a whisper of a caress, yet it haunts me. Julian is not being very subtle about his desires, and it makes me more aware of my own. It’s been three months since I’ve even thought about being intimate. I almost thought that part of me had died off, killed by Colton. But apparently, all it took was meeting a dangerous man like Julian. I would have thought that after Colton, danger would be the last thing that I would want out of a partner, but I’m being proved wrong. I like danger. At least, I like it when it’s pointed at my enemies, with me safely behind it.
Still, a little voice in my head tells me that I'm being stupid. Mad dogs like Julian can turn on their masters at any moment. Not that I’m really his master, but the analogy stands. I’m protected by him now, but what about later? When I cease to be the shiny new interesting thing that he’s captivated by? But a stronger, more insistent voice doesn’t care about all that. It’s like a bull, seeing all those red flags and charging forward. That part of me likes that I’m interesting to someone like him, that he’s seemingly captivated by me. That part wonders what it would be like, tangled in the sheets with a man who looks like a dark god of the underworld.
