Stage Fright (Bit Parts)

by Scott, Michelle

  “Cassie? Everything okay?” Perry asked.

  “Could a human blood partner give Marcella back her voice?”

  He frowned and set the Boggle box on the table. “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “If there had been any way to restore Marcella’s voice, Hedda would have done it by now.”

  I told him what Marcella had told me. “This person has Marcella convinced that she can regain her voice.”

  “Then they’re lying.”

  I mulled this over. Only someone extremely desperate would be stupid enough to lie to a vampire. And who was that desperate? Or that good of a liar?

  The answer hit me like a lightning bolt. Who was both that frantic and that convincing? The award-winning actor who longed to be a vampire. Charles Corning.

  I groaned, sinking down on the stinking couch. Charles, that duplicitous, egotistical tyrant! He’d wooed Hedda for a chance to become a vampire. When that hadn’t worked, he’d turned to Victor, going so far as to pimp out my best friend in trade. My mind spun furiously as I thought it through. I would have bet money that Charles had even leaked the secret of Hedda’s play to Bertrand Peabody as a way to curry favor with Hedda’s vengeful, ex-husband. I banged my fists on my knees, furious that I’d fallen for his charms for so long.

  “Cassie!”

  I blinked. In front of me, a worried Perry yanked at his beard. I offered a weak smile. “I’m okay. It’s just been a really long day.”

  He sat next to me, making the couch sag. “Remember that night when you asked what Hedda gave Isaiah and me for taking out the rogues?”

  I nodded.

  “We said she didn’t give us anything, but that’s not true. We get the most important thing in the world: revenge. The vampires who attacked us didn’t just take our shine; they stole what we treasured most on this earth: Isaiah’s career, and my family.” He clenched his fists, and his eyes smoldered. “It wasn’t until we started kicking some vampire ass that we felt in control of our lives again.” He looked at me. “That’s what I’m seeing on your face right now: the need for revenge. It’s a scary expression.”

  Once again, I attempted a smile. “I’m okay. Really.”

  “No, you’re not. Quit pretending. You’ve made great strides in restoring your shine. Hell, it took me and the Outfielder years to get where you are now. But that vengeance thing is still eating at you. Don’t let it. It’s a cancer. Even though I’ve been taking out rogues, I haven’t gotten over my need for revenge. In fact, I think I’ve been feeding it.” His shoulders drooped. “I don’t want to see you become like me and Isaiah, okay? You’re regaining your shine. Let that be enough.”

  I hugged him awkwardly. “Thanks. For everything.”

  His cheeks reddened in a pleased blush. Abruptly, he stood up and clapped his hands together. “Obviously, you’re not into the whole Monopoly and Jenga thing. How about some food?”

  Food was the last thing on my mind. Despite Perry’s lecture, I wasn’t laying this matter to rest until I’d exposed Charles for the villain he was. Unfortunately, with Marcella on the prowl, confronting Charles would be very dangerous. In fact, it was possible that the two of them were together right now. Better to let someone else take out Marcella first, and then go after Charles when his protector was gone. Frustrated, I clenched my jaw. I would have to wait to take my revenge.

  Still, that didn’t mean I had to wait at Holy Comics. Andrew’s safety was still a huge concern. I’d borrowed Perry’s phone several times to call my friend, but I’d only gotten voice mail. I had to find Andrew whether Isaiah wanted me to or not.

  If I was going to leave the church, I needed some protection. Real protection, not just a stake or two. I wished for a relic – any relic – from the Bleak Street to power me up again! A scrap of fabric from one of the old, velvet curtains, or a splinter of wood from the walnut wainscoting. Unfortunately, everything had been packed up so it could be auctioned off. Right now, it was all at the Muse.

  The Muse! Geoffrey had said the lobby was stuffed with items from the Bleak Street. If I made it to the gallery, I could gather all the energy I needed to defend myself.

  Perry was continuing to list our meal options. “We can order takeout. There’s a pizza place near here, and a Thai restaurant a few blocks over.” He thought a moment. “I know! We should check in the kitchen. Your sister sometimes leaves leftovers for Isaiah and me.” He shrugged, chagrinned. “Well, me anyway.”

  At the mention of my sister, a light bulb turned on. Smothering my smile, I said, “Whatever you find in the fridge is fine.” As Perry turned towards the door, I added, “Can I borrow your phone? I want to try calling Andrew again.”

  The moment he left the room, I phoned my sister. “I’m stranded at Holy Comics, and my car is at Milos. Can you give me a lift?”

  “Cassie, it’s after ten. I’m already in my pajamas.”

  “Please? I’m desperate!”

  “Why can’t Andrew drive you?”

  “It’s complicated.” An understatement if ever there was one. “Please, please, please, please, please!!”

  She heaved a sigh. “Fine.”

  I waited an antsy ten minutes, then excused myself to use the little girl’s room. I quickly changed into my clean clothes so as not to alarm my sister with the sight of the bloody ones. Then, uttering an apology to Perry, I slipped upstairs, reaching the door just as Elena pulled into the lot.

  I jumped into my sister’s car as if I’d robbed a bank and she was my wheelman. “Floor it!”

  I couldn’t have explained my dilemma to my sister even if I’d wanted to because Elena scolded me all the way to the restaurant. “What is wrong with you? Uncle Mike called me tonight because he was looking for you. He said you skipped out on the last half of your shift! And dad’s telling me that you haven’t been cooperating with the real estate agent. It’s because you don’t want to find your own place, isn’t it? Cassie, you need to grow up! Stop leeching off of Mom and Dad.” Add twenty-five years to my sister’s age and thirty pounds to her frame, and she could have been our mother. She certainly had the longsuffering, exasperated tone down to perfection.

  I slouched in my seat. “Sorry, Mom.” If I hadn’t been so desperate for a ride, I never would have called my sister. Whenever Elena went out past her bedtime, she turned into a cranky, pain in the ass.

  When Elena pulled next to my Focus, her eyes widened. “What happened to your car?”

  “Minor accident,” I lied. “You should see the other guy.”

  Immediately, she went from grouchy to concerned. “What’s really going on?” It was too dark to see the worried furrow between her eyes, but I knew it was there. “You’ve been as nervous as a cat on crack the whole way here.”

  Given her lecture, I was surprised she’d noticed. “I’ll be fine,” I promised.

  “Is this about Caleb?”

  I swallowed, remembering those bullet holes in my pillow. “Sort of. Did you bring the thing I asked for?”

  Elena hesitated before handing over the white, plastic card she withdrew from her wallet. “I’m really uncomfortable about this.”

  I knew she would be. Giving me the key to the Muse would require a great deal of trust. “I promise not to hurt anything in the gallery,” I said. “With any luck, I won’t even need to be in the gallery.”

  “Tell me again why you need it?”

  I wished I could. I also wished I could tell her about Geoffrey’s death, but the clock was ticking. “I could give you some bullshit story, but I won’t. I just need you to trust me,” I begged.

  “Is it immoral, illegal, or dangerous?”

  “Not immoral. Probably not illegal. Maybe dangerous.”

  She shoved the card back into her purse. “Then, no. Sorry.”

  I took a deep breath. “Okay, here’s the scoop. Last spring, I was attacked by a pair vampires who stole my shine – my soul – and since then, I’ve been a wreck. Now, Isaiah’s crazy sister, who
is also a vampire, is on a feeding frenzy. I have to get to the Muse because there are weapons stored in the lobby that can protect me from her.”

  For a moment, Elena’s jaw went slack. Then she snapped back with a shake of her head. “I thought you weren’t going to give me a bullshit story!”

  According to Shakespeare, the truth will out. Unfortunately, most people don’t believe the truth when they hear it. “Please!” I begged.

  She reluctantly took the key card from her purse. “Fine. But if you end up in jail, I’m not bailing you out. And if you end up dead, I’ll never forgive you.”

  I hugged her tightly. “I love you.” Then, before she could reply, I dashed out of the car.

  The restaurant was locked, but through the glass, I saw Jordan wiping tables. I banged on the door until she answered, then braced myself against her angry tirade. “Where the hell did you disappear to? I had to work closing by myself! Your uncle Mike is furious. I think he’s firing you.”

  “I’ll make it up to both of you, I swear, but right now, I need my purse.”

  With a roll of her eyes, she fetched it. Before she handed it over, she said, “You’re working my Black Friday morning shift.”

  On Black Friday, the biggest shopping day of the year, Milos Coney Island opened at four a.m. to accommodate the rush of early-morning, bargain hunters.

  “Okay,” I promised.

  “And the morning of New Year’s Day.”

  That meant no late-night parties on New Year’s Eve. “Sure. Now, purse please.”

  She frowned as she handed it over. “You must really be in trouble. Everything okay?”

  “It will be.” I shouted a thank-you over my shoulder as I ran to my car.

  I drove behind the strip mall and parked as close as I could to the back door of my uncle’s restaurant. Leaving the headlights on, I quickly searched the alley until I found my phone. The protective case had snapped off, and the glass was cracked, but to my relief, it still worked.

  Three voice-mail messages popped up. All were from Andrew. His first said, “Cassie, where the fuck are you?!” Hearing it, my mouth went dry. Andrew never swore. Not so much as a gosh darn ever left his lips. In the second message, his voice strained to the breaking point. “Cassie, call me back right now!” The third message was the most desperate. “Caleb’s out of control. He says he has a gun and is going after you. Oh, God, Cassie,” he moaned. “Please call me, okay?”

  Hurrying back to my car, I dialed his number. To my relief, he picked up on the first ring.

  “Cassie, thank God! Where are you?” he demanded.

  “In my car. Where are you?”

  “You need to go someplace safe. Your sister’s house, Isaiah’s store, wherever. Just find somewhere and stay put.” His voice was calm, but strained. “Caleb’s gone crazy! He’s making threats against you, and he says he has a gun. Hang on a sec.” Andrew put his hand over the phone, muffling a brief conversation. “Promise me that you’ll get someplace safe,” he said when he returned. “I’ll call you when it’s okay to go home.”

  “I’ll go to Holy Comics, but only if you promise to meet me there.”

  “I will, but not yet. I figured out a way to keep you safe, okay? But it’s going to take a while.”

  My blood turned to ice. “You’re not going after Caleb yourself, are you?!”

  “No way.”

  “So you’re going to the police?”

  Long pause. “No.”

  I swallowed. “Then what?”

  “I’ll explain everything later, I promise.” Once again, his hand went over the receiver, but this time the conversation wasn’t as muffled. A teasingly familiar voice said, “Wait here. I’ll be back.” Then a door closed.

  “Where are you?” I demanded. “Who was that?!”

  “Someone who can help. You saved me today, now it’s time for me to save you. Go to the comic store and wait for me, okay? I love you, Cassie.” The connection went dead.

  I was both relieved and sick with dread, two emotions that mixed like oil and vinegar. Andrew was alive, but he was up to something. Something he knew I wouldn’t like. I didn’t care if he got angry, I wasn’t about to let him do anything stupid to save my neck. Once I collected some Bleak Street items from the Muse, I’d find Andrew and drag him to the church.

  I hadn’t yet pulled out of the restaurant’s parking lot when my phone rang. A furious Perry was on the other end. “Where the hell are you!?”

  “I’m heading to the Muse.”

  I could almost see him turn pale. “On foot?”

  “No, Elena picked me up at the church and dropped me off at my car.” I yanked the handset from my ear as Perry launched a stream of curses.

  “I’m really sorry,” I said. And I was. Sort of. “The Muse is getting ready to auction off Bleak Street memorabilia, and I want to get some before it’s all gone. That stuff fires up my superpowers. It’s how I chased off Marcella the other night.”

  “Please tell me you’re not going to steal from the vampires!”

  “No,” I said, shocked. Now that events had taken a new turn, I was pretty sure that Victor’s offer to give me the chandelier was off the table. Instead, I planned to take what I wanted from the Muse, and return Victor’s generous check as a payment. If anything, the vampires would be getting the better end of the deal.

  “If you don’t get back here, Isaiah is going to kill me,” Perry moaned.

  “I can’t. Not until I have what I want.”

  “Then I’ll meet you at the Muse,” Perry said immediately. “Swear you won’t go inside until I arrive.”

  Perry didn’t have Isaiah’s strength, but he didn’t have the overly protective streak, either. Plus, Perry was clever. Having someone in my corner would give me more of an advantage. “If you’re not there in fifteen minutes, I’m going in without you,” I warned, but he’d already hung up.

  Most of the windows in old glove factory were dark. The only lights came from the fifth-floor apartments. I desperately hoped that the people inside were staying behind locked doors tonight.

  Perry arrived a few minutes after I did. He hauled himself and a large duffle bag into my car then craned his neck to peer up at the Muse’s windows. “Are you sure you want to do this? God only knows what’s lurking around out there.”

  I hadn’t come this far to give up now. “I doubt that Marcella would return to one of Hedda’s properties. It’s too obvious.”

  “It’s the rogues I’m worried about. Marcella probably created an army of them tonight.”

  “I don’t care. I’m going in.”

  He sighed, resigned. “Okay, so what’s your plan?”

  My patience for his superhero mentality was wearing thin. “This isn’t a comic book.”

  “Which is why we need a plan. How are you getting inside?”

  I showed him Elena’s passkey.

  “Impressive. Okay then – elevator or stairs?”

  I started to say ‘elevator’, then realized that if the doors did open up on a hungry rogue, I’d be trapped. “Stairs, I guess. It’s only five flights.”

  “And I’m only a hundred pounds overweight. But you’re probably right; stairs are better.” He rubbed his chin. “So let’s say we make it to the gallery, and we run into a pack of rogues before you can get to your treasures. Then what?”

  “You’re the superhero,” I said. “What would you do?” I was beginning to despair that we’d ever leave the car.

  “No, Isaiah’s the superhero. I’m his lowly sidekick.”

  “So what would Isaiah do?”

  “Kick ass and take names,” Perry muttered. “But if a fresh pack of rogues is in the neighborhood, it’s going to take more than a handful of wooden stakes to stop them. Especially if they’ve been feeding.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m still going in.”

  He sighed. “I figured you’d say that.” Unzipping the duffle bag, he pulled out a handful of stakes and tossed one to me. It was heav
ier than I’d expected. “Is this metal?”

  “It’s ash wood overlaid with a thin layer of silver. I custom order them from a knife maker out in Montana. They’re expensive as hell, but I want the heavy artillery tonight.”

  “There are vampires in Montana?”

  “Probably, but this guy doesn’t know that he’s making these to stop vampires. He seems to think I’m some kind of medieval weapons freak.”

  Next came a red, plastic squirt gun.

  “Wouldn’t a real gun be better?” I asked.

  “Guns are only good for long-range targets,” he said. “Since it’s almost impossible to get the drop on a vampire, guns aren’t that effective. Also, a lot of vamps look human, so the likelihood of accidentally shooting a real human is pretty high.” He grabbed a blue squirt gun for himself. “Shoot a human with a bullet and you could kill him. Shoot him with some holy water…” he squirted my arm, making me squeal, “…and you’ll only piss him off.”

  I shoved the toy gun into the waistband of my jeans and took two stakes. I also hung one of Perry’s large, silver crucifixes around my neck.

  “Now can we leave already?” I was itching to get upstairs. I could almost hear all those powerful, Bleak Street items calling to me.

  “Cassie, please don’t get yourself killed. Isaiah would never forgive me if something happened to you,” Perry said. “He kind of digs you.”

  The old-fashioned word made me snicker. Nerves. “I kind of dig him, too.” Despite being pissed at him, Isaiah still turned my heart all melty.

  “Good. Then let’s do this thing.”

  I impulsively leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Good luck, Professor Getts.”

  His grin was like an overly tightened spring. “You too, Leading Lady.”

  A single car had parked up the block, but the rest of the street was empty. I tried to move stealthily, but everything from the scuff of my shoes on the asphalt to my heartbeat seemed to play at the highest volumes. Perry guarded my back as I slid Elena’s passkey through the electronic lock. When the little light blinked from red to green, we slipped inside.