Danse Macabre

by Kory M. Shrum

  She said nothing.

  “Do you blame yourself?” he asked, surprise lighting his face. When she didn’t answer, he added, “If anyone is to blame for this man’s death, it’s me. I’m the one who published your father’s story. My proof sent reporters looking for you. You were only protecting yourself.”

  “What am I protecting exactly?” she whispered, her eyes fixed on the back of her hands.

  “Your freedom. If the world knows you, your face, your name, you will not be free any longer. That is why I remove every shred of evidence. I want you to be free to do as you wish.”

  “Why?” She turned toward him, pivoting at the hip, her arm stretched over the back of the couch.

  “Can you not guess?” he asked, meeting her gaze. He smiled, but she saw the hint of nervousness at the edge of his mouth.

  It wasn’t only the way his hair fell at his cheekbones or that rich green of his eyes. Nor were the full lips that she wanted to drag her thumb across completely undoing her.

  Had she found him in a bar, had he casually met her eyes in a dark room, she would’ve approached him and asked the same question: take me back to your place?

  She would have gone home with him and satisfied that hunger. It wasn’t so unlike her lust for hunting, because wasn’t this hunting in its own right? And the desire to hunt had left her, at least for now. This hunger was all she had left.

  * * *

  Konstantine searched those rich brown eyes, tracing the outline of her lips and wishing desperately he knew what she was thinking. He also wished he could close this small distance and kiss her. If she were any other woman, he would. But he knew Lou too well. He knew that if he tried to take the control from her, put her in a subservient position, she’d only disappear again.

  Hadn’t he learned that lesson last time?

  He would wait it out. Only he didn’t have to wait.

  She threw a leg over his lap and straddled him. He felt the delicious heat of her sex as she settled her weight against him, pelvis to pelvis. He inhaled a sharp breath, scenting the side of her throat.

  She slid her fingers into his thick hair and pulled his head back so that he had no choice but to look into her eyes. He was already looking, his hunger darkening to match her own.

  His patience had limits. He lifted up, finding her mouth with his. A furious collision of flesh.

  He wanted to flip her onto her back, wondered if she could tell by the gentle, anxious shift in his hips as he warred with himself. Again he exerted control, making sure this was what she wanted, how she wanted it.

  What restraint you have, he mused.

  A caress of her tongue against his, as languid as a cat’s, obliterated all thoughts from his head.

  Her tongue probed deeper, eliciting a groan from his throat. He was hardening, but the erection had nowhere to go. Between the tightness of his pants and the weight of her against him. This seemed to only intensify the throbbing.

  He dared to wrap his arms around her, slipping his hands up the back of her shirt. Fingers trailed bare flesh. He crushed her against him, feeling every taut muscle contract.

  The hand in his hair—vibrated.

  She withdrew, and it took considerable effort on his behalf to loosen his hold on her as she pulled away. She turned her wrist over and read the watch. The face was lit green, but he couldn’t read the numbers at this angle.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice thick.

  “King paged me.”

  He pulled her toward him again putting her within reach of another kiss. He tilted his chin up, hungry to taste her.

  She resisted.

  With a sigh, he withdrew his arms and fell back against the sofa. “All right. Go. The only person more prone to trouble than you is that man. And he is not nearly as capable of taking care of himself as you are.”

  Was that a smile touching the corners of her lips?

  “Do you want me to hack the computer while you’re away? Perhaps the journalist knew much more than he said. Or sent the information to another source.”

  And god knows I will need something to distract myself.

  “It’s on your bed,” she said as she pulled her heat and weight from his body.

  He watched her mount the stairs, voluptuous hips giving over to thick, strong legs to only combat boots. Then he listened to three, four, five steps.

  Silence.

  He remained against the sofa, grappling with his desire and disappointment.

  When we are defeated, we must take the long view, Padre Leo had told him. Will we see this to the end? No matter where it takes us?

  Yes, Konstantine thought. As long as he had air in his lungs, and the blood pumped in his veins, he wanted to see this through—no matter how tragic the end.

  He found the laptop on his coverlet and opened the black case. She’d been kind enough to bring the power adapter. All the better.

  This was more than enough for him to start.

  18

  Dani watched Piper count out the drawer and wrap the money in rubber bands. She pretended to dust a shelf for the third time.

  “We still hanging out tonight?” she asked, hoping she sounded casual.

  “I’m still going to the square if you want to come. But Henry asked me to drive him home after his show.”

  Dani’s disappointment was genuine. There was clearly no invitation for her to join them. She gave it her best shot anyway. “You have a car? If not, I can take you.”

  “He does. But he’ll be too wasted to drive himself, and I’m crashing at his place tonight. I couldn’t tell him no.”

  That would make it too easy for me, Dani thought. She frowned, searching for another opening. “Do you mind if I still come to the square? I’ve always been interested in that sort of stuff. It’s why I’m working here, actually.”

  She gestured at the shop with the yellow feather duster in her hand. She reached up to tug one of her braids. She was starting to get used to the black polish. She might keep wearing it, even if it would make her mother’s head roll.

  Piper tucked the money into the bag and zipped it closed. “Sure. You can help me set up the table. It’s easier with two people.”

  Piper ducked into the storeroom closet. Dani glanced around the shop to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. Her phone and wallet were in her bag. Her coat rested on the stool behind the register.

  The safe in the stockroom beeped as Piper entered the code to unlock it. A few heartbeats later, she reemerged with her coat and backpack in hand. “Ready?”

  Dani grabbed her coat and bag, tucking the feather duster into a cubby to the left of the register. “Yep.”

  Dani stepped out onto the street first, taking in that first bite of frigid air. The hair rose on the back of her neck. She burrowed her chin in her collar.

  “How long have you been doing readings in the square?” Dani asked.

  Piper inserted her key into the lock and turned it three times before pressing on the handle to make sure it was bolted tight.

  “About three years,” she said. “I’ve got some regulars.”

  “Fancy,” Dani said, batting her lashes. “Why don’t they come see you at the shop?”

  “Cheaper. The readings in the square are by donation only. You can’t set a price. But plenty of people pay.”

  “That’s cool that they keep coming back to you.”

  “Yeah,” she said, adjusting the pack on her back. She passed a shop window, and the light caught in her eyes. Dani thought her beautiful.

  “It’s sort of like being a hair dresser.”

  Dani laughed. “How?”

  “If you give a good haircut, people come back. They tell their friends that you’re good and so they come see you, too.”

  “Are most of the readers in the square fakes?”

  Piper shrugged. “Not necessarily fakes. But people want good readings.”

  They stepped off the Royal Street curb into Jackson Square. A quartet with t
wo cellos and two violins played a maudlin tune under the cathedral’s lights.

  “My table is in here,” Piper said, pointing at a shop across the street.

  Jim’s Jambalaya.

  “You know Jim?” Dani asked, pointing at the sign.

  “I do,” Piper said with a smile. “And I give him $25 a night to rent out one of his card tables. He has poker in there on Thursdays if that’s your thing.”

  Piper turned to her suddenly and grabbed Dani’s shoulders. She stepped close enough to her that Dani could smell the cherry lip balm on her mouth.

  Is she going to kiss me?

  But Piper didn’t kiss her. She only moved her over to a spot four or five paces from the large pine tree.

  “Stay here,” she said. “Right here.”

  Dani laughed. “O-kay.”

  “Don’t move,” she said, backing away. Piper ducked into the shop, the smell of Cajun spices wafting out behind her as the door swung closed.

  Dani glanced around the square. There were couples arm in arm watching the quartet. A few people danced, swaying and clapping their hands. A queue had formed in front of the café. A few artists stood on the stone walkway, smoking and chatting. Someone dressed like the tin man remained frozen on his soapbox, playing the part of living statue for tips.

  Then there were the other tarot readers. Some carried in tables. Others were already set up and reading. One woman taped a cardboard sign, like something made at a high-school bake sale, to the front of her table. Palm and Tarot readings by Catherine the Great, it said. And beneath that I was Cleopatra, too.

  Piper reappeared holding a table a tad too large for her arm span.

  “Okay, I’ll hold it open like this, and if you can crawl underneath and fix the latch that would be awesome.”

  Dani heard her mother’s voice in her ear instantly. On your hands and knees on this filthy street, Daniella Vivianne!

  The stone was cold against her hand as she peered under the table. But now full dark was on them, and she couldn’t see.

  “One sec,” she said, fishing her phone out of her bag and using the flashlight to locate the small latch Piper insisted existed. At last she flicked it into place. “There. Got it.”

  Piper lifted and placed the table on all fours. Then she pressed the top gently to ensure that it was latched. “Thanks!”

  But then she was running into the jambalaya shop again, only to return with four metal folding chairs. Two balanced on each arm. It reminded Dani of the way she liked to carry in her groceries, all in one trip. Broken arms or bust.

  “He lets you take chairs, too?” she asked. She rushed to take half of Piper’s burden.

  She held them as Piper unfolded two chairs on each side of the table. “For $5 each.”

  “Ouch! That’s $45,” Dani said. “Let me give you some money.”

  Piper waved her off. “It’s okay. It’s a convenience fee. It would suck to haul all that out here every night I want to work, and I’ll make it back anyway.”

  She grinned, and again Dani was struck again by how cute she was. It’s that smile, she thought.

  Their breath puffed white in front of their faces as laughter and music drifted through the square. Dani wished she’d brought gloves, and took to warming her hands between her thighs.

  From her backpack, which Piper tucked between her legs, she brought out a cigar box. It was reinforced cardboard painted with bluebirds. Dani hadn’t seen one of those in ages, not since her father quit smoking decades ago.

  She flipped it open and pulled out a folded white cloth and threw it over the table. Then she tented a cardboard sign that simply said Tarot and Palm by Piper.

  Dani laughed. “Way to sell yourself.”

  Piper snorted, cutting her eyes to Catherine the Great. “I don’t want to overdo it.”

  It wasn’t ten minutes before a young woman with dreadlocks and a punk rock boyfriend sat down in the opposite chairs.

  Dani realized pretty quickly why Piper was so good at this. Not only because she was able to offer real advice to these people—you’ve lost a friend recently, and you feel like that might be your fault—but she was a good listener.

  When someone would open up or offer personal information, Piper would only hold their hands, look them in the eye and listen. It was powerful.

  You’re worried you’ll regret this decision, but I think you’ll regret not acting more.

  You don’t think you can do this, but you can.

  You will reconcile.

  You’re scared about starting over, but this is the best move for you.

  You might feel alone now, but you’ve got a lot of love coming into your life. Keep your eyes open. You’ll see it.

  And when the reading was over, they’d toss their $5, $10, or $20 bills into Piper’s cigar box and bid her farewell with relieved smiles on their faces.

  Dani filled the intermissions with small conversation.

  “Do you go to school?” Dani asked.

  “I was at UNO last year, but I had to quit. Well, not quit exactly, but take some time off. I want to go back. I hope I can this fall.”

  “Needed a break?” Dani asked.

  Piper breathed hot air into her cupped hands. “My mom…got sick. She needed help with the bills, so I needed to work more. I don’t have time for school right now.”

  “Sorry.” What different worlds we live in. “Will she be okay?”

  “I hope so,” Piper said, forcing a smile and effectively ending the conversation.

  Another couple sat down in the folding chairs, drawing Piper away entirely.

  The purpose of this outing was to build familiarity. She wanted Piper to feel comfortable with her. She needed to build rapport and trust. Only then would she be able to ask intrusive questions without blowing her cover.

  Besides, this was the last place Dani had seen Lou. In a photograph, true, but it was enough to hang out here and see if she turned up.

  Piper prattled on beside her while Dani’s eyes scanned the streets under the guise of people watching.

  After hours of this, Piper’s cigar box filled and waned. She was smart to roll up most of the cash and tuck it into a pocket between readings. The moon set behind the low-slung buildings, leaving them only the artificial light.

  The crowd of tourists and drunks thinned. Leaner, hungrier-looking figures took their place.

  “I think that’s it for tonight,” Piper said, as if sensing the shift herself. She gathered up the cards and tapped them into a stack. She pulled out the donations, counted the bills and rearranged them by value. Then she tucked the cards and the money into a separate box for safekeeping. It was smaller than the cigar box and had some intricate design on the face, which Dani couldn’t see well in the dark.

  There were at least three hundred dollars in there. Dani wanted to warn her it was dangerous to be out here in a place like this with that kind of money. Someone could’ve been watching. Someone could mug her. Desperate drug addicts, or just some asshole itching for a fight might decide she looked like prey.

  Anything could happen in a place like this.

  But then Piper took the cash from her pocket and what was left in the cigar box and locked it into a metal lockbox. Then she tucked the entire bundle under a roll of clean clothes at the bottom of her bag. She did all of this bent over, keeping the money carefully out of sight.

  She’s not stupid. She’s being far more careful than I expected her to be.

  Dani found her heart racing, watching Piper pack up for the night. There was something about this girl. It wasn’t only her adorable laugh, her witty quips or the way she went the extra mile to get that smile. There was something…savvy about her. It was so different than the polished, artificial glamour of her parents, of the people she knew from her private high school and extended network.

  Nothing about Piper smacked of elitism. She wasn’t charming the way her mother was to a room full of executives. She was smart and real.

 
Genuine, she thought. That was the word. Piper was genuine. It was a quality Dani didn’t think existed.

  Dani kept stealing glances at the girl’s face as she helped her fold up the tablecloth. Piper tucked her toothbrush into the corner of her mouth while she rearranged the contents of the bag, situating everything just so.

  So she didn’t stay with Henry all the time, only a night here and there. Dani wondered why. Maybe her mother was in the hospital? Maybe she had nowhere to go.

  Piper zipped up the bag and shouldered it. “Can you help me break down this table?”

  “Sure.” Dani found the hinge underneath and flicked it. The table tented in the middle and the girls were able to fold it in half.

  Then they carried the chairs into the shop first. Dani relished the restaurant’s heat against her frozen cheeks and the tips of her ears. Reluctantly, they returned for the table.

  “I got it.” Piper jogged across the square with the table in tow and ducked back into the jambalaya shop for the last time.

  She emerged a moment later, adjusting the backpack straps over her shoulders.

  “So, you’re off to see Henry?” Dani asked. Her feet were starting to freeze in her sneakers. She stamped them to encourage warmth.

  “Yeah. You can come for the show if you want.”

  “No. I need sleep,” Dani said, not wanting to seem too desperate. And there was the other issue. She was beginning to like Piper. Really like her. And that made deceiving her feel wrong.

  Piper snorted. “Yeah, I have a hard time falling asleep after going there. I think it’s the music that hypes you up.”

  Don’t do it, she thought.

  The urge was rising up inside her, nonetheless.

  Don’t complicate this.

  Piper rubbed her nose. “Do you live near here? I have time to walk you to your car if—”

  Without thinking, she came up onto her toes and kissed Piper. Their warm lips collided. It was a delicious reprieve from the frosty night. Dani didn’t want to stop, but she pulled back first.

  Piper’s cheeks had reddened, bright even in the dim street lamp. Then her brilliant smile emerged.