‘I’m sure she can. We all need hope, little sidhe, otherwise what is there to live for?’ She blew me a kiss. ‘Take away hope, and there is nothing left.’ Her mouth opened wide in a fang-filled grin, much as the girl’s saviour had done, and she started to lower her head.
‘Even when hope is gone,’ I slammed the silver invitation against her chest, ‘there is always retribution.’
She shrieked and leapt back like a scalded cat, hands flapping frantically. Then her mouth gaped and she slid unconscious to the floor. My own mouth opened in shock as smoke wisped between my fingers and the smell of burnt flesh choked my throat, both mine and hers.
Shit. Her reaction was way more dramatic than I’d expected. Coughing, I scrambled round in a crouch, ready to face the audience; they were all staring like it was just part of the entertainment. My hands fisted. What the hell would happen when they realised it wasn’t?
Then a dainty blonde vampire in a twenties-style beaded dress stood up:
I registered who she was almost without noticing.
This was not good.
She inclined her head graciously, then brought her hands together and clapped.
The rest of the watching audience joined in.
Relief tumbled inside me. I dropped the invitation back in my pocket and swiped the back of my hand over my mouth. ‘Thanks for the chat, Rio,’ I muttered.
Cue my exit.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Outside in the empty corridor, I let out a relieved breath. Had Rio been going to bite me? Would she really have given the finger to the Earl and his guarantee of my safety like that? Or had it just been more play-acting? I grimaced at the red burn on my palm, then checked my watch. I still had nearly an hour before my meeting with Alan Hinkley, time enough for some more investigating ... only right now I’d had my fill of playing detective and having vampires taking me for a sucker. Resisting the urge to run, I strode towards the fire-exit, my high-heels sounding like gunshots pinging on the floor behind me.
Fifty feet and I was out of there.
Only I didn’t make it.
A shadowed blur hit me and slammed my back against the wall. A hard body pressed against mine, a cool hand clamped over my mouth. My pulse jack-hammered away in my throat as I stared at a familiar black stone in a pale pretty ear.
Malik held me there, silent, unmoving, his dark spice scent invading my senses as he looked not at me, but off to the side, as though waiting. About us the light dimmed and shadows obscured our surroundings, leaving us marooned ... somewhere ... or nowhere.
I had a vague thought of struggling, but my body wasn’t interested.
‘You seem to be having a most informative evening, Genevieve.’ He spoke quietly, his jaw hardly moving under his pale skin. ‘It is about to get even more so.’
The words slipped over me as I gazed at the dark, silky hair that curled over the neck of his black T-shirt. The taste of Turkish delight melted over my tongue and my heart did an eager dance, swirling my blood through my veins.
‘When I remove my hand, you will stay quiet, stay still.’ He turned to look at me, pupils glowing red in his almond-shaped eyes.
Part of me didn’t want him to take his hand away; the part that was elated to be with him in this nowhere place. Staring into his perfect, pretty face, fear fluttered in my belly that I could even think like that.
‘Genevieve?’ His fingers flexed against my mouth. ‘You will stay silent?’ His hand tightened round my wrist and the bracelet of bruises there throbbed to his touch.
I glared at him. In my heels, we were almost the same height, and close enough that without his hand on my mouth, our lips would have kissed. I couldn’t nod, so I blinked.
‘Good.’ His hand slid down to circle my neck, thumb touching my speeding pulse.
‘What the fu—?’
He squeezed my throat, silencing me. ‘Look to your left.’
The pressure round my neck gave me no option. I looked.
The shadows shifted, thinning in a small area, almost like watching a slightly out-of-focus TV. Darius, Rio’s blood-pet, burst out of the Théâtre and did a frantic check in both directions. He might as well have carried a flashing neon sign advertising that he was searching for me. He dragged a hand through his hair, desperation marring his cover model looks. Then he looked at us and started jogging. I held my breath as he neared, but he ran past us without even a sideways glance, grabbed the bar of the fire-exit door and rammed it.
The door stayed closed.
Damn, it hadn’t been a way out after all.
Darius swung round and sprinted back the way he’d come.
Malik tapped a finger on my cheek, indicating that I should keep watching.
Heart thudding fast, I did as he wanted and slowly turned my head.
Darius slid to a halt by the ballroom, banged on the door. For a moment, nothing happened. He thumped it again and this time it opened. He disappeared inside, then barrelled back out almost immediately, frowning. He scanned the empty corridor then, his long legs eating up the floor, he raced back into the Théâtre.
I turned back to Malik. The glow in his eyes had dimmed, leaving them deep pools of black. ‘We’re ... what? Invisible?’
He gave a small shake of his head, spoke in an undertone. ‘Not quite. A smell, a touch, a heartbeat could draw attention to us and we would be seen, although unlikely by a human.’
I sniffed. ‘You might want to polish up your social skills, y’know,’ I muttered. ‘The caveman greeting was old even in the Stone Age. Most people content themselves with a handshake nowadays.’
He gave me an enigmatic look, then laid his cheek on mine and inhaled. ‘Good evening, Genevieve.’ His voice slid over me like hot satin. ‘I see you received my invitation.’
Fine, so he wasn’t going to hurt me. And he wasn’t into handshakes.
‘Yeah, and it’s been great, but I really must be going, so if you could just move ...’ I tried pushing him away, but it was like trying to shift a concrete troll.
‘The night is still young, and there is more for us to learn,’ he said. ‘I have concluded that you could be useful.’ Amusement flickered over his face. ‘We shall work together on this.’
Who was he kidding? Working together didn’t usually mean plastering colleagues against the wall.
I pulled a disappointed face. ‘Sorry, prior engagement.’
‘Yes, I know.’ He turned back to stare at the empty corridor. ‘You have an appointment at the police station, but that is not for some time yet.’
Well, if he thought I was just going to stand there ... I wriggled, got a leg free ... he shoved his thigh between mine ... my heel stabbed into the floor, jarring the bones in my leg—
‘Calm yourself,’ he said softly, not looking at me. ‘We have another show to watch.’
‘Thanks.’ I heaved a frustrated sigh. ‘I’ve seen all the shows I want tonight.’ He ignored me, intent on ... whatever. Okay, so he’d got me into a compromising position, but even with my heart thudding like a pneumatic drill, there was no evidence he was the least bit excited about it. And his body was touching mine in all the right places, so that I’d feel, just like I could feel his heart wasn’t beating, and he wasn’t breathing: he’d shut himself down, like the Earl had earlier. And like the Earl, and Rio, no doubt this was just Malik’s way of asking me to find
