The Calling (14 page)

“Miki, let's leave,” Paige begged. “Elah has given us this chance. Please, let's get out of here.”

Miki suddenly felt so confused. But, then, she couldn't have moved if she had wanted to, couldn't have turned and left.

Even though Elah, this perfect stranger to her, was taking the time to tell her that the life she'd thought she wanted was a living hell. Even though he was giving them a chance to leave.

“Why are you telling me all of this now, Elah?” Miki asked. “Why are you trying to help us?”

“You remind me of someone, Michaela. Someone in another time, another life. You dance like you were born to it. I want you to have a chance to do that—to dance.”

“I can dance with the troupe, with Davin.”

“No, this will not be enough. Please leave. I can't fight them all. You and your friend are in terrible danger. I can't explain this to you. I can only say that living the way I do is hell, pure and total hell.” Elah's voice was strong again, demanding that she obey.

Miki's fear returned. Along with her good sense. Yes, she would leave. She and Paige would turn and walk away and never look back. Whoever this man was, whatever his motive for talking to them, she'd take his advice.

But she had waited too long. Out of the shadows stepped Rima and Primavera. Each took a strong grip on Miki's arms.

“You have returned, Miki,” Primavera said, her voice soft, like a purr. “I am so glad. You are a lovely dancer.” Her perfume surrounded Miki in the narrow, airless hall. The scent was cloying, choking Miki, making it hard for her to breathe.

Romney giggled. He and Kyle trapped Paige between them. “Welcome Back, Miki and Paige. Please, you must come and dance. We need you.”

Miki shuddered at the word
need
. It had taken on a new meaning, a terrible meaning, a deadly meaning.

But she and Paige had no choice but to continue on down the dim hall with the four dancers.

As they reached the auditorium and approached the stage where Davin and Barron, backs to them, talked in low tones, Davin turned.

He stared at Miki, and there was no doubt about his feelings for her. His dark eyes held some of the same emotion as Elah's.

Davin was filled with love, but also with resignation and a terrible grief, a terrible sadness for Miki.

Twenty

“S
O
,
YOU HAVE
come back.” Barron turned and stared at Miki. His dark eyes seemed to look right into her heart, her soul. What did he see that she didn't understand? Did he know why she had to come? “So, now you are here, take off your coat. Stay with us, and dance.”

The last thing Miki wanted to do was dance. But the music started, low, seductive, inviting. She slipped off her raincoat and dropped her things. Davin reached out for her hand. His eyes invited her to join him. She placed her hand in his, cool and soft, his long fingers closing over hers. Her feet moved of their own accord, following where he led. One last thought came to her before she was totally in his spell. Paige. Where was Paige, and what was happening to her?

She tore her eyes from Davin's, glancing around. Romney and Kyle held Paige between them. She was all right. She was going to dance, too.

Davin lifted Miki to the black velvet swing, which was now whole and strong. Up they flew, together, Davin standing behind her, pumping; she sitting, bending, unbending her knees, her feet moving back and forth with a strong push through the air.

They soared to the length of the swing's ropes, sailing back and forth. Miki leaned back and let the wind take all doubt from her mind. This was what she wanted. This was where she belonged. Here with Davin, with this troupe of dancers. She could dance with them forever. If they would accept her, take her into their family, she would stay.

With one motion, Davin lifted her to her feet, bent her out to the side, still gliding back and forth. His lips touched her throat, burning their image into her skin. Her heart raced. Liquid fire pumped through her blood stream, melting her will, bonding her with Davin. They were more than dancers, pretending. This was real. His touch was real, his love for her strong.

When he turned her loose, swung her from the bar, spun her toward the back of the stage, she felt bereft. She left him with sorrow and longing.

Alone, cast adrift, she let the music guide her. Her body doubled up with the pain of losing him, she melted onto the floor in a pool of tears. The melody lightened, demanded that she stand, go on. She did so, running to the back of the stage, climbing the ropes, quickly, as if she had escaped his spell, if only for a few seconds.

And she had. She became aware that Paige climbed beside her, like two spiders racing across a web. Close now, Miki felt Paige's fear. The emotion leaped from her mind and body to encompass Miki, to send chills over her entire body.

“Miki,” Paige whispered, putting her lips close to Miki's ear, as if in a caress. Her breath was warm but her words were cold. “We have to get away. Now, while we can.”

The thought of leaving Davin tore at Miki's heart, sent pain racing across her chest, tightening, tightening, as if strands from the web on which they climbed had loosened, then wrapped around her.

“I—I can't,” Miki whispered back.

“This is a huge building. We can hide. I'm going, Miki. This is our last chance.” Paige crawled away from Miki.

Suddenly, before Paige could leave, before Miki could gain her senses, all the other dancers were on the ropes. Miki watched Romney and Kyle tear Paige from the web. She pretended to faint—Miki thought she was pretending—and lay over Kyle's extended arm. A willing victim. Kyle rolled her into Romney's waiting arms, and he lifted her, a victorious look on his face.

Miki stopped watching then as Davin loomed beside her. He wore his cloak, which billowed around them both. He spun away, flattening himself on the web of ropes, exposing the red lining like a crimson stain spreading beneath his body. The idea of Davin lying in a pool of blood captured Miki's imagination.

“No,” she whispered and reached for him.

From rope to rope they swung, Davin swinging her back, then her catching Davin's hand and spinning him to the next rope.

When they reached the floor, Davin caught her and lifted her high over his head. She relaxed and draped herself across both his strong hands. After a couple of spins, he set her down gently, but her legs wouldn't hold her.

Gracefully, she crumpled onto the floor, but to her surprise, he had been quick enough to spread his cape beneath her. She lay on the cool, crimson satin, now seeing herself in that same pool of blood. His blood, her blood, mingled for all of eternity.

She felt drained of all life, of all needs and wants and desires. She felt content to lie there forever.

This was not his plan. This was not the plan of the music. A crash of symbols and drums coincided with Davin pulling her to her feet, wrapping her into his arms. Then he spun her out, catching her hand, wrapped her back to him, spun her out again.

Both the music and her mind tugged her back and forth, back and forth with the motion of her body. She wanted to stay with Davin, she wanted to leave. She wanted to stay. She wanted to leave. He wasn't going to let her leave. She had to leave.

He was in charge of the dance. He was in control of her life. He lifted her and placed her on the blood-red swing. She grasped the ropes, concentrating on the contrast of her pale hands against the scarlet ropes. The ropes were smooth and soft in her hands. Velvet caressed her skin. She leaned over and ran her cheek back and forth on the rope that ran through her right hand like a vein of throbbing blood.

The rope's touch on her flaming cheek comforted her, like holding a kitten, rubbing its silky fur across her face. So soft, so smooth, so warm.

She pumped up and up, until she flew in the wind. She became a child, flying to Never Never Land. She would stay there, never come down. She was safe flying through the air. No one could catch her. No one could stop her. She leaned back, then flew even higher, soaring, her mind in a place of no worry, no fear.

This time, when Davin caught the trapeze bar, spun and somersaulted up to stand behind her, she wanted to shout “No.” She wanted to be alone on the swing.

He sat beside her, gently pushing her over, squeezing her against the other rope. He encircled her shoulders with his arm, holding her tight until the swing, slowly glided to a stop.

He loosened her hand on the rope and leaped, taking her with him. Both landed gracefully in center stage.

The music stopped. A crimson spotlight held the two dancers prisoner for seconds. This was when the audience would stand and cheer. Stomp and call out, “Bravo! Good show!”

The auditorium, the place where the audience should be sitting was empty, hollow, cold and dank. This was a show, only a show. This was a dance. Only a dance. The music and the movements had made it seem real, seem like life held up to a mirror, images more real than those human flesh could imagine.

But, for as long as the spotlight held them, she felt secure, powerful, successful. She felt warm in Davin's arms. When the spot faded and stage lights came up, she chilled in the cold, white light. Reality returned. She had to face the now. The present.

Blinking her eyes to focus, she took several deep breaths, crossed both arms and clutched them to her chest. She curled her bare feet to clutch the stage. Only then could she look around and know she had to decide what to do next.

For a few seconds, she had trouble thinking, taking in what she saw. Or didn't see.

Paige was gone. She didn't stand beside them, taking her bow. And neither did the rest of the troupe. Miki and Davin were alone on the huge stage.

Had Paige run like she'd whispered to Miki on the back ropes? Had she tried to escape? It would appear that way. But she had not left the stage alone. The rest of the troupe had gone after her.

A terrible fear returned Miki to real life. She knew, without a doubt, that Paige was in danger.

She knew she must try to help her.

Twenty-One

“Y
OU CAN'T HELP
her, Miki.” Davin read Miki's thoughts.

“I must help her, Davin. I have to try.”

“You are with us now. You are of us. Paige was never meant to be with us. She never wanted to be a part of the troupe.” Davin reached out to touch Miki's throat. She stepped back. “She only came with you. Because she was your friend.”

Was. Davin used the past tense. Miki wouldn't accept that. “Then it's my fault she's here.”

Miki ran. Davin stood watching her go. Stopping at where she'd left her coat and boots, Miki grabbed her big black umbrella. It was her mother's expensive umbrella.
An umbrella. Come on, Miki. What good is an umbrella going to do you against vampires?
She didn't know, but it was the only weapon she could find. It was something solid to carry in her hand.

Paige was right. The old Sullivan building was huge. There would be a lot of places to hide.
Please, please, be hiding, Paige
. When Miki reached the back of the auditorium, she didn't know where to start. First, she took the steps that led to the balcony. That was wasted effort. In the back stood the light box, and Miki didn't want to talk to Elah again. Would Elah help her? No, no that wasn't possible. He didn't really care if they escaped, no matter what he had said. He had tried to warn them. They hadn't listened. Now he would have washed his hands of them both.

She dashed back to the main floor and hunted for a door that might take her downstairs. Davin had said they slept downstairs. Lived downstairs. There must be some apartments or—

Her bare feet padded softly on the wooden stairs, leaving dust prints behind. The stairwell was dark with shadows that hovered around her, pressing in, stealing her breath. No sunlight penetrated here to evaporate past fear, so the emotion had gathered there, waiting for her.

She stopped, pressing her back to the wall, breathing the musty odors. She listened. A frivolous thought popped into her mind. She thought of all the movies she had seen, scary movies, where the heroine crept into an old house alone, sneaked into an Egyptian tomb at midnight, wandered into the woods alone after someone had left her a note to meet at a clearing and to come alone. She had always said to herself, how silly. How stupid. Don't go there. You know you'll get into serious trouble. Here she was, doing the same thing, knowing she didn't really want to find Romney or Kyle, Primavera, or Rima, especially Rima, who hated her.

She pushed those thoughts aside. Paige. She had reason to be here. She must find Paige. Miki was sure she hadn't left the theater, hadn't escaped.
Neither of you will escape
. Sucking in her lower lip and biting it hard, she pushed that idea aside, too.

She gripped the soft folds of the umbrella tighter, and liked the feel of something that resembled a club.

Somewhere below, a door creaked. She listened, trying to decide from which direction the sound came. She tiptoed to the bottom of the steps and stood quietly, scarcely breathing.

A rustling noise turned her to the left, then a fluttering, whirring, like the bats. She tightened her hold on the umbrella, preparing to fight off bats flying at her.

Feeling for the wall, her fingers brushed sticky cobwebs that coated her hand. Shuddering, she wiped her hand on her leotard and crept forward. Her bare feet chilled on the cold, concrete floor. She didn't dare think what might be there to step on. Rats? Spiders? Worse things?

Her hand dived into space, black nothingness. A room, an open room. To control her breathing, her heart that pounded out of control, she stopped, bit her lower lip again, hooked her fingers around the door frame. This was a room. She had found a room. Just inside the door of a room there would be a light switch.

She patted the cold concrete wall, her fingers searching. The concrete was rough and crumbled slightly under her touch. She found the raised nub of a switch, took another breath, and flicked it up. She turned away as the bright light blinded her momentarily.