Five

MIKI HAD ALREADY pulled on her coat and boots, and was getting ready to leave dance class when Paige stopped her. “Miki, are you sure you want to do this? I don’t feel real good about it.”

“Oh, Paige, everything makes you nervous.” Miki spoke sharper than she meant to.

“That’s not true, Miki. I’m thinking about you. You don’t know these people. You don’t know anything about them. What did your mother say about your doing this?”

Miki pretended to adjust her boot.

“You didn’t tell her, did you?”

“I left her a note. But, Paige, my mother doesn’t care what I do. She doesn’t care where I go, or where I am at any given time. You know that.”

“I don’t either. She cares, she’s just busy.”

“So am I.” Miki started to leave but Paige took her arm.

“Miki, it sounds funny to me that they’d move into that old building and do such a weird show.”

“Wait till you see the dance, Paige. The idea may sound weird, but it’s truly beautiful—magic. There’s something—something—” The first word that came to Miki’s mind was sensual, but she sure wasn’t going to say that to Paige. That wasn’t exactly the right word to help her stop worrying about Miki. “Well, magic is all I can think of to describe it. But I love the swings. I feel like a little girl on them.”

Except when Romney put his lips to my throat, she remembered. That was no little girl–little boy gesture. The gesture was sensual. Not that she was physically attracted to either Romney or Kyle. But she had reacted the way any woman would. She had rather liked it.

Her heart pounded faster as she waved to Paige and almost ran to the next block where the old stone Sullivan building hunched over the corner. The ornately carved windows and cornices dated the place back about a hundred years. There had been talk of saving it by making it a historical structure. But no one wanted to take on the task of raising money. Look at how that dance teacher had saved the Lafayette Theater, only to have it burn—and under mysterious circumstances at that.

Where would this dance troupe get the money to renovate this place? Miki gazed up at broken boarded-up windows, and the smoke and pollution darkened stone—once pink, the original color was revealed now only by the chipping. The rock was coated with charcoal and gray dingy soot that would take sand blasting to remove. Could renovation possibly pay off?

Maybe when she had worked for the troupe for a time, she could ask about their plans. She could then inquire about their backing and the finances of the troupe. She did have some concern. She realized she’d never asked about pay. At the moment, she’d pay them to dance in their show. But unless they were really struggling, they’d pay her something, wouldn’t they?

Romney leaned against the alleyway door, waiting for her, she realized. He smiled, followed her inside, and locked the door behind them. The metallic click echoed through her brain for a few seconds, but then she put her nerves aside. Starting any new job would make her nervous. All performers were nervous before they went on. Those emotions made their senses sharp, made them give a good performance.

Everyone was stretching, bending, working kinks out of legs and backs. Primavera waved, then yawned, her jaw stretching wide. Rima grinned at Primavera, then ran for the black swing as if to claim it first.

“My turn, my turn, my turn.” The childish words skipped around in Miki’s head. She ducked her head and smiled, then started to stretch her own body without speaking to anyone. She sensed that no one wanted to talk. But the silence was comfortable.

Barron turned and called to the square box in the balcony. “Let’s test the lights as we work, Elah.”

“I thought Davin was running lights,” Miki whispered to Kyle.

“Just last night. He can repair anything electrical. But Elah usually is in the box. He doesn’t dance.”

That’s why he’s so grouchy, Miki thought.

“Barron doesn’t dance anymore, either.” Kyle stood close to Miki and filled her in on some background. “He only directs. Your partner will be Davin.”

“Oh.” Miki hadn’t realized that there would be partners, but if they had three women and three men, that would be natural. She wondered what kind of dancer Davin would be. And she felt her pulse quicken in anticipation of meeting him.

Both Kyle and Romney were tall, thin, and beautifully muscled. Their faces were too long to be truly handsome, but they really did look like twins, even though they had denied it. Brothers? Maybe she’d find out later when she got last names.

“Where’s Davin?” Barron asked, getting impatient.

Primavera shrugged. “Don’t ask me.”

“Probably still asleep.” Rima started off the stage. “You can take my place, Miki. I’ll find him.”

Romney grabbed Miki’s hand and tugged her toward the black swing. “My lucky day.” He grinned at her, his white teeth glistening like rows of pearly corn. Wherever he had started life, life before vampire, he’d had a good dentist and braces. Some parents who probably hated what he was doing now.

Not many parents said, “Yes, become a dancer.” Miki was lucky. Her father had been a dancer, yet her mother urged her to follow in his footsteps. Her mother had always supported the arts even though a broken ankle had sent her in a different direction.

“You sleep here?” Miki asked softly as Romney lifted her onto the trapeze and their faces were close for a second.

“Cheap lodging.” Romney nodded. “Want to see my room?”

“No, silly. I was just curious.”

Really curious, but she put the snippet of information aside to think about later. Maybe she would look around the building during a break. “You often arrive in a van. If you—”

“We often go out—to eat.” He smiled and leaped up behind her.

Romney pumped the swing high. It flew out and up much higher than the red swing. Miki’s heart rose and fell with the sensation of flying. She’d have to work carefully if she was expected to move around with the bar soaring.

Suddenly, with an abrupt movement from Romney, the trapeze bar bounced and bucked. She had to squeeze her hands tight on the velvet ropes to hold on.

Romney placed his feet on the floor and stopped the swing abruptly. “When I fly off to the side like that, you have to keep the swing balanced.” His face grew red with anger.

“I’m sorry. You have to tell me beforehand. I didn’t know what to do.” Miki felt foolish. Did he expect her to know all the routines without some teaching?

“Watch me.” Romney bounced back up behind her and pushed on the bar with his feet, sending it up again. “When I move, you counterbalance. It should come naturally to you.”

It should? Miki watched and tried. She couldn’t believe the ease with which Romney twisted on the side rope, spun, somersaulted, and landed on the floor, continuing to move. But this time she did try to feel the balance, make up for his twisting the trapeze and keep it straight.

“That’s better.” At least Romney was as quick to praise as he was to fuss at her. “Now when I spin away on the floor, you’re free to spin on the bar yourself.”

“With it going high?”

“As high as you’re comfortable with at first. You’ll learn it fast. Just be a part of the swing.”

Miki longed for some gymnastic background. And her arms weren’t as strong as her legs. In no time they ached from her wrists to her shoulders. But soon she could do a simple spin around the bar and light on her feet gracefully.

“I think she’s doing well for someone who’s never been a flyer.”

A deep voice behind her resonated right through her skin, sending shivers up and down her spine.

She took a deep breath before she turned around. The new voice had to belong to Davin.

When she did see him, she grabbed onto the trapeze bar for support. Not only was his voice magnetic, but his dark eyes and his ready smile made her go all fuzzy inside.

Davin, her new partner, was one of those men who are so handsome they’re almost beautiful.

How could she possibly be expected to dance with this perfect, god-like man?