I leaned over to Thomas. “She’s like Weird Al.”
He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and whispered in my ear, “Who?”
“Weird Al Yankovich? He does song parodies.”
He shook his head. “Is he some human?”
I groaned. “You need to get over your human snobbery. He’s a genius.”
The music wrapped up, and I clapped along with the crowd.
Natasha came out with the singer and Vanessa for the next bit. Crew in all black helped them arrange tables with black tablecloths that fell to the floor and obscured the boxes placed behind them. Natasha told a few jokes as everything was arranged before she started into her act.
I leaned into Thomas again even though he was still pressed into my side. We were cuddled up closer than was really appropriate, but in the dark theater, I felt safe. “That’s Vanessa. I bet the singer is standing in for me tonight.”
He made a noncommittal sound at Vanessa’s name and didn’t look at me. His lack of interaction combined with a hint of annoyance I could pick up in his emotions tipped me off to something. A sickening thought occurred to me.
“You didn’t used to date Vanessa, did you?” I pulled away slightly.
He let out a bark of laughter that caused the couple in front of us to turn around. He tightened his arm and pulled me back into his side. “No, I never dated Vanessa. You’d better pay attention. They’re starting.”
I settled into his side, and I shifted in my seat to get more comfortable. The act was an unusual mix of prop comedy with Vanessa and the singer holding up items in time to Natasha’s delivery. I had meant to really analyze what was happening, but before long, I was just laughing along with the crowd as I got caught up in the moment.
Natasha had natural star ability. She exuded warmth and likability. The way she talked, the turn of phrase, and even the way she gestured with her hands was delightful. It was her gift with magic, the same way I could naturally read emotions; she could exude happiness to others. The crowd was genuinely having a great time as she performed on stage.
Did all mage performers have similar abilities? It was probably a combination of the desire to perform, practice, and magical abilities. I swallowed uncomfortably. I could read emotions, but I didn’t have any magical abilities to project emotions onto others. Maybe I could mix up a spell to help me out. But an even bigger issue was a small thing I hadn’t considered—stage fright. It was easy to watch the performance snuggled up in the dark, but the thought of being on stage, with the bright lights glaring down and all those eyes watching me, made me swallow hard.
I had been part of school performances, which my dad always attended, even though I attended boarding schools several hours away from Rambler. In fact, I hadn’t even visited Rambler until after he died. He had always given excuses like the town was boring or he wanted to get away from work, but the truth seemed obvious in retrospect—he had been hiding me from anyone that might wonder who I was or figure out that he was my father.
But since he was so attentive, I had never thought it was weird. Not when he came to every game I played in or school show. But even the biggest show I had been in, with fifty parents in attendance, when I had the largest part ever—a madam in a bright-fuchsia dress who came on stage to say four lines and sing a short song—was nothing in comparison to the huge theater.
I must have tensed up, because Thomas squeezed my hand, which had a death grip on the arm rail. “Are you okay? Are you feeling faint again?”
I hesitated, unsure if I should lie again or be honest. I was used to hiding everything from everyone, but this was hardly a secret that would get me killed. “I’m not sure I want to be on stage. If I can be on stage. This place is huge. I don’t know what I’m doing. This was a mistake.” My voice had a hint of hysteria about it, and my jaw ached from clenching.
He squeezed my hand then rubbed his thumb across the top of it. Liquid heat spread through my body and melted me, like hot chocolate flowing over ice cream.
“You’ll be great. People will love you, plus Natasha will get you ready. And if everything else fails, I’ll bring you a good old-fashioned bottle of human vodka.”
In the dim light, I watched his thumb tracing a circle on the back of my hand. My nerves were washing away. I would be able to figure it out. And vodka wasn’t a bad idea, though maybe I would need something more substantial and magical. He shouldn’t be so forward with me, but even more surprising was that I wasn’t even attempting to pull my hand away. I didn’t want to, so I didn’t. A small part of me was surprised by that decision, but I ignored it.
“Thank you,” I said instead and focused on the stage, where Natasha was now alone, performing her stand-up bit.
Once I relaxed, the feeling of joy washed over me. Her act was fun and light, mostly focused on everyday situations that most mages could relate to, from the struggle of getting the taste of healing potions out of your mouth to the embarrassment of accidentally calling a one-hundred-twenty-year-old mage “miss.” It was light and easy to enjoy, so I did.
Even for the jokes I didn’t have personal experience with, I still caught myself laughing. The timing and the way she spoke exuded joyous fun. I would have smiled and chuckled as she read the phone book, if we could find one around these days.
When she finished, I joined the crowd in giving her a standing ovation. The singer and Vanessa joined her on stage to take their final bows. The lights came up, and people started to shuffle out. Thomas stood and stepped into the aisle and then up against the wall so people could file out past him.
Once I had resisted the flow of the people to join him at the wall, he pressed a paper bag into my hands. “Your sandwich. Promise me you’ll eat it.”
I opened up the bag and took a deep breath. The scent of roast beef, peppery cheese, spicy mustard, and a pickle filled my lungs, and my stomach growled. Maybe I hadn’t been making excuses when I said I was hungry. I reached in and grabbed the pickle from a wax paper bag and bit into it while nodding my agreement.
He grabbed me by the shoulders and looked deep into my eyes. “The gal in red by the stage will take you back to Natasha. I need to get back to work, but if you need anything at all, just ask any employee to get ahold of me, and I’ll be right there. It could be lunch, which I intend to take you to eventually, or because you’re bored or just… anything.”
A sensation like being pulled down into a whirlpool grabbed hold of me, and I became lost in his eyes. Suddenly, I sneezed, then again and again. When I regained myself, the moment was past, though he still looked at me.
His intensity was a bit much considering the pretense that I was going to be here working at a comedy show. Maybe he knew about the overdoses, and if he did, the concern would be warranted. That was something I could use to my advantage at some point.
I gave him a rushed smile before leaving. “Thank you so much.”
I could feel his eyes on me as I pushed my way between the exiting patrons and the wall until I was at the front of the stage and was ready to go backstage to find Natasha.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I approached the woman Thomas had said would take me backstage. She was pretty, her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, and somewhere in her twenties. Though she tried to keep a neutral expression, her eyes narrowed a little as I approached.
Her eyes flicked from me to far up the theater, and I wondered if she was looking at Thomas, but her next sentence left no doubts.
“You know he’s taken, right?” she hissed at me.
I could feel my cheeks heating up. I hoped she couldn’t see it. I aimed for a light tone with a hint of confusion. “Excuse me? I think you have me confused with someone. I’m Monza Ella. I’m supposed to go backstage to meet up with Natasha. I’m her replacement performer.” I used my Monza title even though I normally didn’t. Though Thomas didn’t seem to be intimidated by it, most mages were. Hopefully, she hadn’t seen us in the dark, his arm around me, holding me close.
I patted her shoulder and gave her a big smile. “It’s okay. I’m not offended.”
She sighed and dabbed at her eyes with the cuff of her red work shirt. “I’m losing my mind about him.”
“Are you dating Thomas?” A shock of jealousy went through me, surprising me.
“Just the one date, and I thought it went so well. I’d had a crush on him for like a year, and he finally noticed me. Then afterward, he never called again.”
“I’m sorry he led you on.”
She sniffled and looked a bit chagrined. “He even turned me down when I asked him back to my place. It’s like he just wasn’t that into me, but come on.” She gestured at her body, which was quite curvy. “Anyways, I saw that he got you food and gave you a hug, and I thought… I’m sorry. Of course he would be extra polite to you. Please don’t tell him that I said anything. Unless you want to tell him how helpful I am and hot.”
“I doubt your hotness will come up in our conversation.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, duh, you’ll need to, like, work it in. Come on. I’ll take you to Natasha’s dressing room.”
I followed her through a locked door then a series of corridors, politely nodding as she listed off all her attractive qualities that she thought I could casually bring up to Thomas. Then she bragged about all the cool stuff Thomas had like cars, boats, fancy vacations, and incredible good looks. Nowhere in the discussion was any mention of his personality, and I figured I had a handle on what she was really attracted to. I downgraded her age, both physically and mentally, by five years. I hoped it was just immaturity.
I interrupted her monologue. “Did you know the two performers that left? I’m taking one of their spots.”
She stopped abruptly and spun around. “Yes! Janie and Stacey. I can’t believe they just left without saying bye. I was like their best friend, after each other, of course. I’m sure they’ll call once they get settled in. They always said I was a natural and should be on camera. I’m super photogenic. This one time—”
“Hung out with them a lot?”
“Totally. We were inseparable.” Something crossed her face, perhaps a memory, but she shook it off. “Sometimes they had invite-only parties that I didn’t go to, but they really wanted me there. They practically lived at the Snakebite Room, which only the VIPs can get into. And I will be invited once I’m on television. I’ll be the one keeping people out of parties. I made them promise me that they would help me get my big break.”
Much like how she spoke of Thomas, it sounded as if she was more into what they could give her than any genuine affection for them.
As we turned a corner, I almost tripped over a large furry body. I threw out an arm and caught myself against the wall. “Patagonia!”
She wrapped herself around my ankles as I carefully stepped over her. She didn’t seem the least bit upset for almost knocking me head over teakettle, and she ran ahead, her tail swishing back and forth in the air.
“Cool cat. Mine just sleeps at home and bathes in the sun all day. Hey, so I was thinking, as a Monza, you probably don’t get out much. If you get any invitations to, like, parties, let me know, and I’ll go with you. I can help you figure out who to trust and who not to.”
“Thanks, that’s really nice of you.” I had zero intention of taking her up on the offer, but saying that would only lead to her trying to convince me.
“Awesome. Just ask any employee for Trixie, and they will get me.”
Thomas had told me something similar. “Do they only hire one person per name?”
She broke into a well-rehearsed voice as she gave what must be the casino motto. “Everything is perfect at the Magia.” She laughed a little. “But seriously, they have a system so guests don’t need to remember last names.”
She stopped in front of a door with a huge gold star with Natasha’s name inside in thick black script. “I can stay and help you get settled in if you want.”
“No, thank you. Have a good evening.” I turned and knocked on the door.
By the time Natasha answered, Trixie was gone.
Patagonia raced in the open door as Natasha called over her shoulder, “Vanessa, you owe me fifty bucks.”
Vanessa’s voice floated out to me. “Hardy har har, you know that nothing on earth would get—Ella!” She screamed when she caught sight of me in the doorway. Squealing, she leaped to her feet, bounded over to me, and threw her arms around my neck. “I told Natasha that there was no way you were going to help out. What changed your mind? I lost a fifty-dollar bet.”
I hugged her back, knowing that I was doing the right thing being there with them. It felt right. “I figured that if Natasha needed help, I should help her. Plus, it would be fun. You’re right that we need some fun.” A small voice reminded me that I was lying through my teeth to them, but I told the little voice to shut up.
Natasha closed the door behind me. “You don’t owe me anything, Vanessa. I cheated on our bet. I knew Ella was coming over before the show but didn’t tell you.” She gestured to a couch, upon which Patagonia was already stretched, cleaning her paws.
“So… what now?” I flopped down onto the couch and pulled Patagonia into my lap to pet. We hadn’t been separated for long, but I still missed her. She did not return my affection beyond biting my wrist and running off to grab an unoccupied chair across the room to delicately lick her armpits clean. Or maybe since cats only had legs, it would be her legpit.
Natasha went over to the mirror and grabbed a wet wipe from a container and started scrubbing off the thick stage makeup that was heavily caked on her face. “That was the last show of the day. Were you able to catch it?”
“I missed the first few minutes but caught all the rest. You’re hilarious. So funny. And Vanessa, you did a great job.”
Vanessa perked up next to me. “You thought so? I was so nervous, but I thought I did okay. You really liked it?”
I nodded to her then continued to watch as Natasha peeled thick fake eyelashes off and put them in a little case. They sat on the pink plastic, looking like a bunch of spiders dancing in a conga line. “So you use, like, real makeup. Why not just a spell?”
She looked a little embarrassed. “Habit, I guess. When I did the television show, I had to wear makeup since everyone else was human. I don’t think magical makeup ever really looks right on stage, and it’s tough to adjust if the spell isn’t perfect.”
I kicked off my shoes and tucked my feet up underneath me. “I forgot you worked on a human TV show. I’ve noticed that some mages are kinda snobby about humans.” I was thinking of a violet-eyed mage in particular.
She spun around to face me. “Yes, that’s exactly it. They’re snobby. They think that magic fixes everything, but it doesn’t. You have to be smart about it. I do add a spell to my makeup that keeps my skin nice and healthy. And I added something to these wipes so they clean better without irritating.” She faced the mirror again and grabbed a clean wipe to give her face one final scrub. “Everyone wants a shortcut, but if you want to do things right, nothing will replace good old-fashioned hard work.”
I blew out a sigh. “I was scared of that.”
She threw away her trash then flopped down on the couch next to me. “What’s up?”
“I don’t know how to act or be funny on cue.”
“You’ll be fine. We’ll go over the script, and your parts are pretty foolproof. You have to smile and do what I say. And although I don’t like to do this, I do have something to help you loosen up.” She got up and started rummaging around in a cabinet.
“A potion?”
She pulled out a bottle and a few shot glasses. “Even more effective. Jägermeister!” She poured us a shot and passed them
out. “It’s not registered as being a paranormal liquor, but I swear it is special. One. Two. Three!”
We threw back the drink. The black licorice flavor burned on the way down and swirled in my stomach, where it sat, as heavy as a bowling ball. I opened the paper bag and grabbed the sandwich. If I didn’t get something into my stomach soon, the liquor would burn a hole right through me. I bit into the sourdough bread, cheese, lettuce, tomato, and roast beef and groaned with pleasure. The alcohol was working its way into my bloodstream, and the knots in my shoulder started to loosen.
“Hey, before we start rehearsal, can I go see my dressing room?”
Vanessa reached into my bag and stole the other half of the pickle. She chewed enthusiastically, her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk storing nuts for winter. She spoke around the food, spraying a fine green mist. “I was just going to get ready in here. It’ll be more fun that way.”
I stood up and edged toward the door. “Oh, cool. Great idea. But I still want to see the room. I’ve never had my own dressing room.” I opened the door and peered into the hallway. “It’s this one over here on the left?”
Natasha was sorting through papers. “It’s got ‘Janie and Stacey’ on the door. Feel free to poke around in there until I can find your script. I swear I had it before the show.”
I could hear her muttering to herself as the door started to close, Patagonia slipping through right before it clicked shut. I scooted over to the door and pulled it open. I might only have a few minutes to get a reading before she came to get me.
I flipped on the light and gave the room a quick once-over. It was the same as Natasha’s dressing room, a mirror on one side with a thin desk pressed up against it, a small couch, a few mismatched chairs, and a stack of cabinets in the corner. A small bathroom with a toilet and sink that barely had enough space for you to turn around in was attached. According to Bear’s best guess, this was where the two performers had been found dead.
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