Kings of Midnight: Book One of The Midnight Saga

by J Q Anderson

  “Really?” My heart thundered.

  She waved her hand dismissively. “I am still not convinced. For now, you will share the role with Verónica. We will decide later who will take it on First Cast.”

  I opened my mouth in astonishment. This was huge. Not only were they giving me a shot at a soloist part, I could also potentially dance in First Cast and perform on opening and closing nights! Holy shit.

  “In my opinion, it is too fast,” she went on. “This role is extremely demanding, unforgiving. Some of the best primas in the world, have danced Myrta. You will be compared to them. If you are not ready, it can ruin your career. But it is up to you.” She studied my expression, and for the first time, hers softened infinitesimally. “You have my permission to prove me wrong, devushka.”

  I blinked, speechless, my heart threatening to rip my chest open for air. I knew she wasn’t handing me anything I hadn’t earned with sweat, but there were so many talented principals in the company. And praise from Madame was simply shocking. I could count her compliments to me over the last year on one hand.

  “Thank you.” I grinned, resisting a sudden impulse to crush that deceivingly fragile frame in a hug. “Thank you so much.”

  She was gone before I could defrost from the shock. I threw my things in my bag and dashed to the studio where Nata and Marcos were rehearsing. They had just finished and were walking to the door when I approached. Nata’s face lit up when she saw me.

  “What! Tell me. Now.”

  “Vronsky just told me I’ll be Myrta!”

  “Oh my God! Are you serious?” Nata’s hand flew to her mouth.

  “Yes! And they haven’t decided who’s on First Cast yet, so I have a shot at it too!”

  “Cami, that is…I’m speechless. And so proud of you!” Nata pulled me into a death grip. We ignored our smelly bodies, clammy from a full day of rehearsals.

  “That’s awesome, babe.” Marcos joined in the hug. “I knew you could swing it. What’d I tell you? Laser focus.” He lifted me up by the waist and spun me around. “Let’s go celebrate.” He planted a kiss on my lips before sliding me to my feet. I was so happy that it didn’t register right away. He looked at me for a moment, smiling with what looked like admiration. I stayed in his arms, blinking like a starry-eyed fool. He finally broke the embrace, kissed my forehead, and tossed his bag over his shoulder. “I’m gonna shower. I’ll meet you back at your place. Let’s go somewhere good, I’m starving,” he shouted as he walked away.

  I shook my head and glanced at Nata, who was eyeing me with a concerned expression.

  “What?” I said, opening the door to the street. “He’s always starving. We’re going out, it’s not like we have to feed him.”

  She pressed her lips into a thin line.

  “What? What.”

  “I don’t know. It’s just…the two of you. Maybe you should lay some boundaries with him.”

  “What are you talking about? What boundaries? We’re friends. That’s it.”

  “Friends…So you’re not in love with him? I imagined it?”

  “What?” My face was a hot coal.

  “Cami, I know how you feel about him. And believe me, I get why you are not together. But Marcos doesn’t realize the effect he has on you. It’s not right.”

  “Shit,” I said. “You must think I’m pathetic. Does everyone else think that too?”

  She shrugged “People think you two are in love with each other but too caught up in your own egos to admit it.”

  “What? Why do they think that?”

  “Because of the chemistry between you two. It’s pretty obvious.”

  “It is?”

  “The good news is that as far as appearances go, you come out all right. Egocentric is much better than pathetic.”

  “I’m not in love with him.” I clutched my bag strap as we waited for Alexei at the theater entrance. “Whatever you think you see. We’re good friends, but that’s all. Besides, Marcos’s only love is dancing. You know that. There’s no room for anything or anyone else. He’s way more obsessive than you or me. If I was really into him, I would be a wreck.”

  “Camila, sweetie. It’s me,” she said, tilting her head, her eyes searching mine.

  “Okay.” I sighed. “You got me. What do you want me to say? I’m not an idiot. I know it’s a dead end.” I leaned on a street sign and looked down at my feet.

  “Cami,” she said, rubbing my shoulder. “Marcos is not the guy for you. He’s always got a swarm of babes throwing themselves at him. I know in many ways dating a dancer is easier. But you deserve someone different than Marcos. Someone that gives you a break from all this.” She gestured at the theater. A fleeting thought of Sebastián flashed in my mind.

  “I know,” I muttered. “I would like that too. But what if it never comes? Sometimes I tell myself I don’t need anything else. That ballet fills every space for me, and this friendship he and I have is enough. No demands, no fights. But whenever I see him with someone else, it gets to me. I can’t help it.”

  “You need to get out and meet people. Go out on dates. What about that guy you met a while back? Have you seen him again?”

  “No. That didn’t go anywhere.”

  Alexei pulled over with Viktor, and we slid into the back seat. Rehearsals the next day would start later than usual, so Nata insisted it was the perfect night to go out. She called Marcos and told him we would meet him later at one of the bars. We mixed drinks at our apartment and had a blast trying on outfits in her closet. She dressed me in her new killer stilettos, skinny jeans, and a black silk tank top.

  We met some of the other dancers at a trendy pizza restaurant downtown. Marcos joined us later at a bar nearby. The place was packed with people our age. Tobacco and perfume saturated the air, and the decibel level was unreal. More girls from the corps joined us. I had been spending a lot of time with them in the past week rehearsing for the dance of Myrta and the Wilis: damsels who had died of a broken heart.

  The bar had a live band, and the music was fun and lively. We had more drinks and danced together to a string of popular songs. I felt relaxed and happy for the first time in weeks.

  A couple of hours went by and after all those drinks, I was tipsy. The stilettos didn’t help. I joined Nata and Marcos at a VIP area with low, half-moon-shaped couches. It felt good to be off my feet. When I stood, the room spun, and I had to lean on Marcos for support. Shit. He grabbed Nata and me by the hand and tugged us back to the dance floor where we joined the others.

  Teo showed up and took Nata away. I went to the bar to get a water and saw them tangled up in a corner, dancing and making out. I ignored the growing emptiness in my chest.

  Marcos appeared from behind and snaked his arms around my waist, pressing his body against mine in a slow dance. It didn’t feel strange to have Marcos so close to me. I was used to it. When we partnered together in class, he handled me like clay, so his hands were familiar to my body. It wasn’t a sexual thing, but as we slow danced, the familiar pull between us returned. He brought me closer, and I hesitated before circling my arms around his neck.

  “What’s wrong, babe? You’re acting weird. Dance with me. Mmm…you smell good.” His lips brushed my neck, and I shivered.

  “Easy, there, playboy.” I chuckled. “You have to see me in the morning, remember?”

  “Not tomorrow morning.” A mix of mint and alcohol laced his warm breath, sending another shiver through my whole body. God.

  “Marcos…”

  “Hmm.”

  “Marcos, come on, stop. We have a good thing between us, don’t we? Don’t screw it up because you’re drunk and horny.” I searched his eyes, but his mouth kept going back to my neck. “I’m talking to you.” I pressed my palms against his chest and moved him away.

  “What?” he groaned, finally meeting my eyes. “We’re having a great time. Whatever this is, don’t do it.”

  “You’re slurring, you know.”

  “Oops.” He smiled
and pulled me back into his arms. I let him envelope me and surrendered to the temporary comfort of being pressed against him. Closing my eyes, I hugged him back, pretending for a moment that he was mine. I put my head on his shoulder, and he kissed my forehead. Our bodies swayed to the music, and Marcos squeezed me tighter. I felt him harden. Oh, man.

  “You smell so good, Cami.”

  I squeezed my eyes tighter. Dammit. Why did this have to feel so great? I could just…let things play out. But deep down I knew Marcos was unreachable. He wasn’t mine. This wasn’t going to turn out the way I wanted. It would hurt. Damn it, I was pedaling backward. I broke away.

  “Time for me to go.”

  “What? No, not yet,” he said sulkily.

  “It’s late, I want to go home.”

  “Fine. We can go.” He sighed, unwrapping himself from me. “You’re such a buzzkill sometimes.”

  “Stay. I’ll get a ride with one of the girls.” I forced a smile. I needed to keep things normal. “There are lots of babes here looking for a cute ass like yours.” I held his face, squeezing his cheeks together, and planted a kiss on his chin.

  “No dway,” he said through fish lips, then pulled my hand away. “I’m taking you home. I’m beat too. Let me get my coat.”

  We made our way to the door, saying good-bye to the others, then took a cab to my apartment. Marcos walked me to the foyer, taking my hand as I searched for the keys. When I turned to say good-bye to him, a black BMW parked farther across the street started the engine. The driver was hidden behind tinted windows. My heart kicked my chest. Could that be…? Oblivious, Marcos tugged on my hand.

  “Can I stay? I’m a bit smashed.”

  From across the street, the BMW engine roared once. Then the tires screeched and the car darted away. I watched it disappear, then looked back at a sleepy Marcos.

  “Sure.”

  “Cams, come here. You’ve got to see this,” Marcos yelled from the living room where he was watching a rerun of So You Think You Can Dance while I changed into my pj’s. “It’s that chick Nata was telling you about. She’s good.”

  Yawning, I moved his jacket and bag to the other couch. Marcos was almost as messy as I was. I sat beside him, and we watched the show in silence. When the commercial break came, he turned and wrapped his legs around my waist. His arms circled my neck, pulling me against him.

  “Make out with me,” he whispered, tracing wet kisses along my jaw. Fuck. How was I supposed to resist this? My stomach swam.

  “Marcos…No.” I pulled his hands away. “What’s up with you tonight?”

  “I want to make out with you. You look super-hot in these little pj’s. It doesn’t have to be complicated.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “What happened to friend-zoning?”

  “Free pass for a night?” He grinned.

  My heart raced, pounding. Yes! Yes! Say yes! I shook my head no.

  “Shit.” He scowled and it was comical. “I’m permanently friend-zoned? I’m not sure I dig that.”

  “Well, it is what it is,” I murmured.

  “I can be your best friend with benefits.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

  Oh, man. That was a very, very tempting proposition. The devil had it for me, dammit. He kissed the palm of my hand, sensually, while his eyes burned into mine. In a trance, I watched him. He was a seduction master and I was his puppet. A shiver spread up my arm and down my back. Damn. I was so lonely, and the thought of sleeping curled up against his bare chest lured me in. Desire spread under my skin. His mouth moved slowly to my wrist, pulling me to him until our faces were close. He then took my jaw in his hand and kissed me on the mouth, so gently I had to close my eyes so I wouldn’t melt in his hand. Marcos. He trailed kisses along my jaw while his other hand moved to the back of my head. I exhaled, lost. My God, was I letting this happen? He smelled divine. Heat radiated from him, and I exhaled, letting his stubble prickle the tips of my fingers when I touched him.

  His phone’s ringing startled us. I opened my eyes, the spell broken as our lips parted, and he reached back for the phone. He looked at the screen and smiled, then silenced it and tossed it back onto the couch. It was still facing up, so I could see the name clearly. Carla, one of the principals. I had seen her with Marcos a couple of times before, but it was a while ago, so I had figured it was over.

  “Who was that?”

  “Nobody,” he said, interlacing his fingers with mine. “Where were we?”

  Carla’s name lit the screen again, this time in a text message. Two. Three. Then another call. Boy, she was persistent. Marcos growled and snatched the phone again.

  “What’s up?” He listened for a moment, smiled, and shook his head. “I can’t right now.” He paused, then laughed out loud. “Okay, then. Later.” He hung up.

  “Was that Carla?”

  “Yeah.” He reached for my hand.

  “Are you two…dating?”

  “Nah, not really. Nothing serious.”

  I looked down.

  “Hey,” he whispered, holding my chin and searching my eyes. “It’s nothing.”

  The old knife in my chest sank a little deeper. Was I so desperate to have him close that I had almost let this happen? Fuck hormones.

  “I’m tired, Marcos,” I said, detangling from him.

  “What? No. You’re leaving?”

  “Yup. I’m leaving your horny ass to go to bed. Good night.” I turned away and blew him a kiss. My chest felt as if it was made out of lead. But I told myself that if I could walk away from Marcos, I could do anything. My life was finally on track, dammit. I was in control.

  From my bed, I heard him fuss around in the living room. The clink of glass…Was he having another drink? His bare feet padded on the wood floor, approaching. I pretended to be asleep, feeling him standing at my bedroom door. My breathing was shallow, and I fought to keep it steady. I knew that if he came on to me again, it would be hard as hell to walk away a third time in one night.

  In the darkness, I waited until complete silence filled the apartment.

  Chapter 8

  When I woke the next morning, Nata and Marcos had already left. The note on the counter made me smile.

  My horny ass and I are leaving you to rest, Princess. Sorry about last night, I was a dick. I’ll make it up to you.

  X, M

  Ugh. How could I not love him?

  It was Saturday and I had no plans. It had been a full two weeks since my failed date with Sebastián, and his calls had finally stopped coming. Nata’s romance with Teo was moving fast, and she was spending the weekend at his country house, so the forecast announced a quiet solo evening for me. I did my laundry, then an impromptu yoga class at the gym around the corner. My body was finally detangled and relaxed.

  In just a few hours, I had managed to turn the apartment into a hurricane zone. My clothes were everywhere. Good that Nata was gone because she would have a fit. She was OCD-neat, and I was…well, much more relaxed about neatness. I slipped in bed at nine without feeling an ounce of guilt for not having plans.

  Sunday, I sewed ribbons on my new pointe shoes and packed my bag for the next day. By early evening, I was done with errands, which left me alone with my thoughts—something I wanted to avoid. My personal life was at a negative, and the initial wave of excitement from my promotion was wearing off. In fact, I dreaded the next day’s rehearsal. Working alongside Verónica so frequently was a drawback even I had underestimated. She was chronically bitchy, self-indulgent, and most of the time acted as if I weren’t even in the room. Unfortunately, that also gave her the perfect edge to play Myrta, an air of superiority I lacked, and it made me anxious.

  It was still early, but I was starving and didn’t feel like cleaning up the apartment, so I decided to pay a visit to a nearby bookstore and get takeout. An evening with a book, sushi, and Freddo’s dulce de leche granizado ice cream sounded perfect…and Nata wouldn’t be home to carb-police me.

  I showered and quickly dried my
hair. As I stared into the mirror, I got a flashback of the BMW across the street from the night before. Had that been Sebastián? Sometimes it felt like I had imagined even meeting him. Unbidden, the memories flashed through my mind like a movie trailer, and the familiar weight of loneliness tugged.

  I wandered the bookstore aisles, browsing the titles in the thriller section, making sure there was no romance involved. I settled on The Girl with The Dragon Tattoo, paid at the counter, and stepped into the crisp fall evening.

  Outside, the night was wintry, the city lights hazy under the spell of an early fog. On the blocks back to my apartment, people passed me with their collars up and their chins down. The wind stirred a pile of dry leaves on the sidewalk. I zipped up my coat and hurried, resolving to go straight home and call for the takeout. As I turned the corner, the low hum of a car engine behind me grew closer. Even though the streets were alive with pedestrians, my mind immediately flashed back to the night of the Roxy, and my pulse jumped. Shit. Resisting the urge to turn around, I waited for the car to pass. But it lingered. Go, you fucker. My shoulders tensed and I quickened my steps. Seriously, what the hell? When had I become a stalker magnet? I was only a block away from home when the car behind me pulled over, matching my pace. Fuck. Adrenaline prickled my scalp. I forced my attention forward as I debated whether I should let whoever was in that car see me walk into my building. I was about to turn back toward the bookstore when the driver lowered his window. Shit.

  “Hey,” a low, familiar voice called.

  That voice.

  I whipped my head around and skidded to a halt. Sebastián half smiled from the driver seat. My heart lurched into my throat. What the f—

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He winced guiltily, and then that panty-melting smile stretched on his face.

  I opened my mouth, then closed it. My heart hammered against my ribs. Shit. Shit. What the hell was he doing here? I set off in the direction of my apartment.