Bad Blood

by Mari Mancusi

  We finish eating and Stormy begs me to play Dance Dance Revolution with her on the Wii. I agree—after a shower to wash off all the flour, that is—and soon we’re dancing up a storm. I’m sweating like crazy trying to keep my balance and pound out the dance moves, which, if you’ve never tried it, is a lot harder than it sounds. Of course Stormy is a total natural (or has had a lot of practice) and whips my butt in every game.

  “Okay, okay, I give in,” I say, collapsing on the couch next to Heather, who’s been watching us with amusement. “You win.”

  “Aw,” Stormy says. “One more round?”

  “Stormy, it’s almost time for school,” her mother reminds her. “I need you to go get dressed. You can see Sunny when you get home this afternoon, if she’s free.”

  “But Mo-om!”

  “Don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll be ready for a rematch then,” I assure her.

  She looks appeased. “Okay. You’d better be.” Then she scrambles off to the bathroom.

  “Sorry about that,” Heather says. “She can be a bit of a whirlwind.”

  “I don’t mind. I like it.” I rise from my seat. “I should probably clean up the kitchen anyway.”

  Heather shakes her head. “No need. I’ve got it. You just enjoy your day.” She looks around the apartment. “Did your sister ever get home?”

  “Yeah. Sorry. Just like an hour before you did. She fell asleep in your bed.”

  “That’s okay,” Heather says with a grin. “I’m fine for now.”

  The woman has energy, I’ll give her that. I, on the other hand, am already exhausted and it’s only eight A.M. After thanking her for being a saint about the whole kitchen thing, I head back into the bathroom for shower #2, this one to get rid of the dance sweat.

  After showering and changing into clean clothes, I decide to head out and continue my investigation by returning to the Hotel Sun and seeing if I can find out more dirt on Jane/Sasha. It’s my best lead so far. And maybe Jayden will be there again; after all, he did say they were holding auditions today.

  This time I force myself to wait for the bus instead of taking a cab to the hotel. An effort to save some money. After all, with Rayne seemingly burning through her life savings on a nightly basis, I can’t depend on her as a backup if I get low.

  The bus is slow and I have to transfer three times, so it’s past ten A.M. by the time I finally make my way into the hotel. It’s just as I left it, filled with degenerates intent on gambling away their last quarters on Earth. Did any of them even leave for a few hours of sleep? I wonder if I should mention this particular casino to my little hacker sister. Being a Vegas Robin Hood, I realize, must be a full-time job.

  Passing through the dingy casino, I enter the theater lobby and notice the double doors leading to the theater are wide open and I decide to take a peek inside. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, but eventually I’m able to get a good look. The place is no Carnegie Hall by any stretch of the imagination. Small and run-down like the rest of the building, it’s filled with rows upon rows of faded red velvet seats below a wooden stage that’s in desperate need of refinishing. A drawn, moth-eaten purple curtain rounds out the décor.

  I hear voices and quickly duck behind a row of seats. A moment later, three people enter the auditorium. The first I recognize as Jayden, the cute emo actor from yesterday. Then there’s a twenty-something guy who sports the same kind of mustache as Brandon Flowers of the Killers often does. The third of the trio is a pretty brunette who’s the spitting image of Katy Perry—complete with envy-inducing curves. Cowboy Man is not with them.

  The three take their seats two rows back from the front of the stage. They pull out clipboards and pens and settle in. A moment later, the boy with the mustache calls out, “Next!”

  The curtain pulls back and a girl wearing a dangerously low cranberry-colored tank top (showcasing her enormous and oh-so-obviously fake breasts) appears onstage. She smiles down at the trio below her and I notice she’s missing a few teeth.

  “I’m Candy and I’m going to read a poem,” she announces in an overly nasal voice.

  “Wonderful,” says Mr. Mustache, not bothering to stifle a grimace.

  It’s not long before I realize the reason for the face. The girl is absolutely terrible. She stumbles over her words as she tries to recite the most horrific poem I’ve ever heard in my life. It’s all I can do not to run screaming from the auditorium just to get away. I guess they don’t get Broadway-caliber actresses trying out for parts at the Hotel Sun.

  “Thank you, that’ll be enough,” the Brandon guy says, interrupting the girl onstage, mid stanza. He yawns again, then adds, “Like, don’t call us, we’ll call you. Or, you know, not.”

  The girl on the stage scowls and stomps off in a huff. I feel bad for her, even though her performance was cringe-worthy. I know how stressful auditions can be. After all, I’m the actress in my family. Last year I played Kim, the lead role in our school’s production of Bye Bye Birdie. (Which ended up being a bit awkward since I had to play opposite Jake Wilder after dumping him mid-prom.) This year I’m planning to try out for our senior class production of Camelot, even if it means going up against Heather Mills for the part of Guinevere. (The way I figure it, I’ll be way more authentic than her, seeing as my boyfriend was once a real knight in King Arthur’s court and totally knows the 411 on the place.)

  I watch as three more girls take to the stage, each worse than the last. Finally, after they boot the fourth girl off stage without even bothering to hear her speak, the Katy Perry girl rises from her seat with a frustrated huff.

  “I’m so sick of these ridiculous auditions!” she whines, snapping her gum loudly. “Can’t we just rent one of those call girls for, like, an hour or so on Saturday? Just have them walk onstage? “I mean, Mina doesn’t even have any lines. She just has to cross the stage, fall into Dracula’s arms, and allow herself to be bitten. So as long as the girl isn’t, like, a paraplegic or something, we should be good. And even then—she’s bound to have some sort of wheelchair access, right?”

  “Please. You know very well what a picky bastard Cornelius is, Allegra,” Mustache boy—Eric, I guess—reminds her. “Think about how many Minas we’ve brought him over the last year who try and fail to meet his high expectations. You think he’s going to be cool with some hooker—or a paraplegic for that matter—playing his precious Mina? Yeah right. He said he wants someone innocent looking. Completely naïve and virginal, remember? Like Britney Spears, pre-mental meltdown.”

  “Exactly! There’s a slew of schoolgirl-style call girls out there!”

  “Yeah? How many of them will work for ten dollars an hour?”

  She groans. “God, I totally picked the wrong profession, didn’t I?”

  “You’re not going to suddenly pull a Sasha on us, are you ’Legs?” Jayden butts in, causing my ears to perk up. “Leave us Lucy-less as well as Mina-less?”

  “Um, no, thank you. That would mean I’d have to hook up with Cornelius. Can I just say, ‘Bleh?’ I mean, have you guys ever smelled his breath?”

  Eric fashions his hands into claws and looms over Allegra, baring his teeth. “Hello, my pretty. I vant to suck your blood!” he hisses in a completely overdramatic, stereotypical vampire voice. Allegra swats back at him, giggling.

  “In your dreams, vamp boy wannabe!” she cries, pushing him back into his seat. “You’d better keep your mortal day job.”

  “Come on, guys,” Jayden cuts in, interrupting their play. “Let’s just keep moving. Get the next person onstage.”

  The other two groan in unison.

  “Next!” Jayden calls out loudly, ignoring the both of them.

  There’s a rustling behind the curtain and a moment later a woman steps onstage. She’s old enough to be my grandmother, complete with leathery, over-tanned skin, fried from too many years in the Vegas sun. A poster child for why not to go tanning, but probably not what they’re looking for when it comes to Mina. />
  “NEXT!” Jayden cries.

  The woman stumbles off stage.

  “This is pathetic!” Eric mutters. “I’m going to kill Sasha if I ever see her again. Leaving us in the lurch like this. Not even so much as a good-bye.”

  My ears perk up at the mention of Sasha again. Unfortunately, at that moment a piece of dust tickles my nose, making me sneeze. The three auditioners turn in their seats to look at me. Busted! I sheepishly rise to my feet.

  “We’re closed, if you didn’t notice.” Allegra sniffs, narrowing her eyes at me.

  “Unless you want to audition,” adds Eric, in a hopeful voice.

  “Um,” I glance at them, then at the exit, wondering if I should just make a hasty retreat. But no. These people know Jane—or Sasha as they call her. They’re my best lead for figuring out who she really is and what she’s up to. “I’m actually here to see Jayden?”

  Jayden squints at me, then a look of recognition washes over his face. “Oh my God! I’m sorry!” he exclaims, rising from his seat and crossing the theater to greet me. Today he’s wearing a button-down striped shirt with big cuffs and a pair of skinny navy blue jeans. His black hair is straightened and plastered to his face, half covering his striking green eyes. Seriously, so cute. I may actually have to turn in my prep card and become an official Emo Boy fan club member if there are more like him out there somewhere. Or heck, maybe just on the basis of his existence alone. “I didn’t recognize you in those clothes.”

  I remember yesterday’s silly showgirl disguise and blush. “Oh yeah,” I say, staring down at my feet. “These are more my . . . normal clothes. I, um, yesterday I lost a bet.” Pretty stupid excuse, but the best I could come up with on the fly.

  “I’m so glad you came back!” He reaches me and throws his arms around me in a warm hug. Normally I’d be weirded out by someone I barely know hugging me, but in this case, he’s a good hugger, so I let it slide. “And I like your normal clothes,” he whispers, mid-hug, his hot breath tickling my earlobes. It gives me a chill and I shiver involuntarily, which makes him laugh, effectively breaking the tension between us.

  Pulling away from the hug, he takes my arm and leads me down to the front of the auditorium. “I’ve found our Mina,” he announces to the other two.

  They stare at me excitedly. “You’re right! She’s perfect!” cries Eric, rising to his feet and giving me a thorough once-over. “Definitely Mina-ish.”

  Wait a second. “I’m not here to—”

  “Where on Earth did you find her in this city of sin?” Allegra asks, looking impressed. “Innocents for Sale? Virgins R Us?” She peers at me. “You’re not a call girl, are you? ’Cause we only pay ten dollars an hour.”

  My face burns. “No way.”

  “Look at her blush!” Jayden points out. “She’s perfect. Just what we’ve been looking for. Sweet, pretty . . .”

  Now my face is on fire. Pretty. Does he really think I’m pretty? “But I’m not going to be in Vegas very long,” I stammer, finding myself running out of arguments. “Sunday at the latest.”

  “Sunday’s fine!” Eric butts in. “We just need someone to do Saturday’s performance. You’ll keep the show alive so we can keep auditioning next week. Try to find someone on this planet that will please Cornelius for the long haul so we never have to audition again for the rest of our lives.”

  “It’s not even a speaking role,” adds Allegra. “So no lines to learn. Super easy. Even a call girl could do it.” The other two shoot her a look. “Well, if we paid her more than ten dollars an hour, that is,” she amends.

  “Please say yes!” Jayden begs, catching my eyes with his own pleading ones. “We’re desperate. We need you.”

  I gnaw at my lower lip, trying to decide what I should do. The main purpose of this trip is to investigate Jane, of course, not fulfill my dreams to become a (somewhat) professional actress, acting side-by-side with cute emo boys. But on the other hand, by taking this particular role—the one Jane used to play—I’d be literally stepping into her old shoes. These people knew her and they could probably give me the 411 better than anyone. Each rehearsal would be like major recon and it might very well be my best chance to expose her for who she really is.

  “Okay,” I say, making up my mind. “I’m in. But just for Saturday’s performance.”

  The three cast members cheer and give me quick hugs to welcome me to the show. I feel happy as they excitedly chatter about my role. The impromptu hugging and enthusiasm for acting sends a jolt of familiar adrenaline through my body. I really do love the theater, after all. After feeling kind of lost in Vegas, it’s almost as if I’ve come home.

  “By the way, I’m Sunny,” I say, realizing I hadn’t officially introduced myself.

  “This is Eric and Allegra,” Jayden introduces. “They play Van Helsing and Lucy in the play.”

  “Jayden here plays Jonathan Harker,” adds Allegra. “And Cornelius plays Dracula.”

  “It’s not a great play,” Eric admits. “But it’s fun. Well, we’re fun anyway. You’ll like it here. Well, you’ll like us anyway.”

  “Except maybe for Cornelius. He can be a bit much.”

  “Where is Cornelius?” I ask, looking around.

  “Oh, he won’t be here for a while,” Jayden says. “He only comes out at night.”

  “Yeah. Which means that’s when all our rehearsals are held,” adds Eric. “Guy never steps foot in the theater until after the sun goes down.”

  “He’s a real-life vampire,” Allegra adds in a spooky voice. Then she giggles. “Or at least that’s what he’d like us to believe.”

  I remember the cowboy kissing Jane the night before. Could he really be a vampire? A vampire pretending to be an actor in some cheesy Vegas revue? It seems so unlikely—ridiculous even—but at the same time he was talking to Jane. He knows she’s infiltrating the vampire world. And he didn’t seem all that shocked about it.

  “So what’s the deal with Ja—I mean Sasha?” I ask. “The girl who had the role of Mina before me?”

  The three actors scowl. Jane is evidently not their favorite person.

  “She took off,” Eric informs me. “Left us high and dry.”

  “Not a huge loss,” Allegra adds. “She was a terrible actress. Not to mention a horrible dresser. The girl wouldn’t know fashion if it came up and bit her on the ass.”

  “She only got the part because she was sleeping with Cornelius,” Jayden finishes.

  I nod absently, trying to fit the puzzle pieces together. So Jane/ Sasha has been dating Cornelius (which I had already inferred from their earlier make-out session) and starring in this small production as Mina. She takes off on them one day and suddenly shows up two thousand miles away in suburban Massachusetts, claiming she’s a Rhodes scholar from Oxford and ready to become blood mates with my boyfriend.

  None of this makes any sense.

  The thing is, the council takes this blood mate thing pretty seriously. They’re way picky and do a ton of background checks on candidates—even DNA stuff, which never lies—before granting approval of a candidate. And that’s just for the blood mates of minor vamps. Imagine what they do in the case of someone like Magnus, a major coven’s Master! They should have gone through Jane’s history with a fine-tooth comb. And any of these red flags I’m seeing would have been picked up quicker than you can say rejected blood mate.

  So how did Jane pass her test? How did she become certified? And what’s Cornelius’s role in all of this? Did he put her up to it all somehow? And if so, why? What does he hope to gain by getting his girlfriend into the blood coven?

  Nothing good, that much I’m sure of.

  “Anyway, she’s gone and you’re here and you’re perfect,” Jayden exclaims and I flush at the compliment. Perfect. I can’t remember the last time a boy called me perfect. Certainly not my boyfriend, who, I might add, has still yet to call me once this whole trip.

  My cell phone starts belting out a Taylor Swift song. Of course.
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  I glance down to the caller ID, but only out of habit. Gotta hand it to the vamp, he has very good ESP. Wonder what he’s doing up during high daylight.

  “Excuse me for a moment,” I say to the actors, backing up toward the auditorium door. “I need to take this.”

  Once outside, I answer. “Hey, baby,” I say, a thrill tickling my stomach. “What are you doing still awake?”

  I hadn’t been aware of how much I’d been missing Magnus until I saw his name on the caller ID. I realize I can’t wait to hear his deep, throaty, English-accented voice murmur how lost and lonely he’s been and how terrible Vegas is without me by his side. How he made a horrible mistake leaving me behind and if only I had somehow decided to break his rules and come anyway, he’d be so happy. He’d pull me into his arms, whispering . . .

  “Sunny, are you effing insane?”

  Hmm, I was thinking more like “I love you” but okay . . . Maybe he means insane with love for him?

  He doesn’t.

  “I just spent five thousand dollars bailing Marcia out of jail.”

  Oops. I kind of forgot about her.

  “Marcia was in jail!?” I cry, putting on my best shocked, horrified, can’t-believe-this-is-happening voice. I am an actress after all. An actress with a real part in a real play that isn’t put on by a high school, I might add. “I mean, I always knew she was kind of a bitchy loose screw, but jail? What on Earth did she do to wind up in jail?”

  “Don’t give me that innocent BS,” Magnus snarls on the other end. “She told me everything. I know you set her up and I know you’re somewhere in Vegas. Why the hell are you in Vegas, Sunny? I thought we talked about this.”

  So much for “wish you were here.”

  “Rayne and I wanted to see our dad, of course,” I reply, switching to defensive mode. Stupid Marcia. And stupid Rayne, too, for thinking her stupid plan would solve everything. “He lives here, remember?” I’m not lying, I might point out. Rayne and I did want to see our dad. And he does live here. Just not this particular week.

  “I see,” Magnus says slowly. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard him so pissed. Except maybe the time he accidentally bit me instead of Rayne that first night at Club Fang. Which, I might point out, was technically his fault, not mine. “So after years of never visiting Vegas you two randomly decide that this would be the perfect week to head out West for a little father/daughter bonding? The same week, per random coincidence and wild chance, that I would be in Vegas for the consortium and specifically told you that you could not come with me?”