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Blade backed away, his face black as ash. “That’s what I was giving you.”
I had to choose my words carefully. I couldn’t push him away. Not for Cash’s sake, for mine. “After I perform, I’m raw. That’s the only way I can explain it. I need time to heal.”
His face softened, and he met my eyes. No sign of contempt. “I understand,” he said softly. “It makes me feel that way, too. That’s when the bad stuff happens.”
The tension that had built in my muscles released. “Too many bad things have happened.”
“That’s for sure.” Blade shook his head, running his hand over his hair. “I shouldn’t have pushed you. But damn, it’s hard to stay away.”
I pulled the blanket back up over my chest. “You’re the only person who understands.”
“That makes it even worse.” Blade smiled sadly. He cocked his head, listening. “Cash hasn’t gone on yet. I’d like to see what he’s got up his sleeve.”
“So would I.” I turned toward the mirror. Man, I was a mess. My hair had settled into clumps, soot and makeup streaked my face. “He hasn’t let anyone see his rehearsals. The performers won’t say a word. He must’ve threatened them within an inch of their lives.”
Blade chuckled. “At least they were smart enough to take him seriously.”
“Right?” I shimmied into my robe, kicking the fire blanket away, and scrubbed my skin with baby wipes. There wasn’t enough time for a shower before Cash’s performance. “Because Cirque Macabre loves its gossip.”
Once I wiped enough filth away to leave the dressing room, Blade and I joined the small crowd of performers behind the backstage curtain. Cash stood at the back of the crowd, not acknowledging any of us. He added a dark red velvet blazer to his outfit, a black rose pinned to his lapel. He looked upward, like he was channeling another power. His lips moved slightly, soundlessly, and he knotted his fingers together in front of him, twisting them like a puzzle. Even Cash Logan got butterflies before show time.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great pleasure to introduce you to the greatest magician of our time, now in residence at Cirque Macabre...Cash Logan!”
The crowd went wild. Cash was no fool. He let enough information slip to the media that the soft opening could start any night. Demand for tickets had gone through the roof and rumors began to swirl through the production that more nightly shows might be added. But it all hinged on what happened in the next forty-five minutes.
Tinny, vaudeville-style music pumped through the PA system. Two models appeared from the shadows in sheer, shimmering body suits waving enthusiastically to the crowd as they took the stage. Those bitches had headdresses! Silver and white plumes framed their heads and dripped down their backs like angel wings. So gorgeous. And the cast thought I got preferential treatment.
The music changed to something more fitting of a horror movie soundtrack as the lights fell. Only a red light pulsed, the girls on stage sparkling like blood dripped from their bodies. Cash appeared on the stage out of thin air, and the music stopped.
“I bid you welcome.” His face was shrouded in shadow. One of the girls brought him a dome-covered platter. Doves escaped when he removed the lid, flying over the heads of the audience, and perching high in the tent. “Tonight you will see things that you can’t explain.”
No one saw Cash climb the pole in the middle of the stage. In less than a blink of an eye, he’d risen to the rafters, sitting on one of the support beams with a dove on his finger. He kissed the bird on the head, flicking his finger to encourage it to fly away, then leaned forward and summersaulted back down to the stage.
“Vegas, I want to bring back the classics. Sin City implodes its history, but I want to show you that old can still be beautiful. After all, Estelle here is seventy-four years old.” The audience laughed as he held his hand out to his assistant, who couldn’t have been more than twenty-five. “And I’m two hundred and fifty-seven.”
That was no exaggeration. He winked to the audience, and they went along with the joke. Estelle and his other assistant began to walk around him with a heavy metal chain, wrapping it around his body. A few of the women in the audience hooted, asking if Cash would tie them up later. “It will be your turn soon, ladies.”
Once he was impossibly tangled in the chains, a volunteer from the audience came up on stage to secure a huge padlock. Estelle held a vintage keychain, swinging it around on her finger until it flew into the crowd. She covered her mouth in an exaggerated manner, but I had a feeling it was no mistake. A meat hook lowered from the ceiling, grabbing Cash by the collar, suspending him in midair. He wiggled and struggled in the chains, his arms pinned against his sides. The assistants raised their arms, palms up, having no solution.
“I don’t see what’s so special about this,” Sylvio muttered from behind me. “Other magicians have been doing this same shit for years.”
The chains exploded, and Cash drifted back to the stage like he wore an invisible parachute. Estelle and her friend feigned relief, kissing his cheeks. While we watched him struggle in the chains, a box had been wheeled out to the stage. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my belly. Sylvio was right, this had been done a million times. But that wasn’t what bothered me. It was what we hadn’t seen yet. Cash wouldn’t rely on sex appeal to get him through a show. He resented it too much.
The assistant who wasn’t Estelle climbed into the box willingly, waving goodbye to the crowd. Cash made sure the box was securely closed before stepping away. A circular saw dropped from the ceiling, easily slicing through the wood, splattering the first few rows of the crowd with blood. Blade put his arm around me protectively and I leaned back against him. “There’s got to be a trap door,” he whispered.
“I hope so.” Still, my breath caught in my throat. Estelle fell to her knees in front of Cash, her panic palpable, begging him to do something to help her friend. A puddle of blood spread between them, the ruined box separated.
“Should I bring Sally back to life?” Cash asked the crowd, who roared in agreement. He tapped his finger to his mouth, like he was deep in thought. Bullshit. This was part of his secret plan. He looked back at Estelle, who’d risen from her knees, but continued to plead with Cash. “You know what we need, Estelle?”
She shook her head and held her palms up again.
“A sacrifice.”
Blade tightened his grip around my waist. The volume in the theater rose to an ear-splitting level.
“Do we have any volunteers?” Cash called out.
Estelle’s face brightened, another exaggerated expression, and she looked out over the crowd. People pulled their friend’s hands up, pointed at each other, jumped up and down to get their attention. Estelle pointed at one couple, looking back at Cash for confirmation.
He nodded. “She’ll be perfect.”
The man pulled his date from her chair as she protested, but no one in the crowd helped her. Instead, they cheered him on as he dragged her up the stairs onto the stage. She tried to break free of him, but his grip was too strong.
“I think this is real.” I leaned back so Blade could hear me. “She’s terrified.” The man held her up. Her knees had buckled more than once, and once he let go of her she fell in the puddle of Sally’s blood. Estelle approached the woman, trying to calm her down.
“It’s real,” Blade confirmed. Instead of concern for this woman, I was envious that Blade had any advance info about the show. Cash played favorites, and I was losing so far. I checked my ridiculous emotions and hoped that Cash Logan’s Cirque Macabre had a happy ending.
Cash held his hand out and helped the woman up. He massaged her shoulders. At first, the woman shook violently under Cash’s touch, her face wet with tears. She visibly relaxed, almost as if she fell under a trance. “I think this offering will please the gods.”
He brought his lips to her ear, and she nodded at whatever he said. She hooked her fingers into the hem of her top and raised it up over her head, dropping it in the puddle of blood. The woman made peace with whatever her fate was.
Cash smiled at the crowd, baring his fangs. The audience roared, and began chanting “Bite her! Bite her!” Estelle raised her hands to rile them up more, and I held my breath as Cash sunk his teeth into the soft flesh of the woman’s neck, drinking from her until she turned gray and fell limp at his feet.
Blade’s low moan vibrated through my body.
The crowd rose in a standing ovation as Sally lowered herself to the stage, sliding down Katrinka’s silks. The woman lay lifeless on the ground, forgotten.
“Can we go?” I turned to Blade, completely numb. “I need some air.”
Blade led me out to the parking lot. I wanted to be out of the building before Cash came off stage. I couldn’t talk to him right now. He killed someone. And even worse, all those people loved it.