Authors: Teri Brown
Jan and a stagehand wheel the iron maiden and the curtain off as the audience chants my name. I take a deep breath and then reenter the spotlight. Mindful of my arm, I walk to center stage and give the audience a curtsy. The audience screams their approval and I leave the stage, waving my good arm.
This time, Jeanne gives me a one-armed hug, careful not to get any blood on her yellow silk dress. “I’m supposed to follow that?” she asks Louie.
I shrug and smile, knowing she’s only teasing. No one alive can sing like that woman.
“We’re not going to be able to do that every night.” Louie chuckles. “I have a feeling we’re going to have more than a few repeaters to see how you’re doing. So tomorrow you should have a bandage wrapped around your arm, and skip the blood bit. Damn, but that went over well!”
I agree. “So only once in every city?”
He nods and then shushes me. Jeanne has started to sing, a bawdy little song to warm up, and Louie’s eyes close as he hums along. I think about what Jeanne told me about relationships on the road and I think of all the strikes against Cole and me. My magic, his reluctance to tell me how he feels, his grandmother, not to mention we don’t even live on the same continent. The happiness of my triumph disappears with a whoosh. I know it’s after-performance letdown, but it still leaves me feeling flat and washed out.
Jan rushes up to me after helping the stagehands put our props away. A wide grin lights up his broad face. “We did good, yes?”
I clasp the hand he extends to me. “Yes! We did grand.”
“You will take me to America with you?”
I blink. “Oh. Um, I can ask the manager. But I don’t know . . .”
“Yes. You ask the manager. I am a good assistant.”
“Yes, you are.”
He gives another friendly nod for good measure, and as he walks away I hear a low chuckle behind me. Billy is leaning against the wall, laughing. “You’re going to have a hard time getting rid of that one.”
I smile. “He’s a good assistant.”
“Are you ready to head back to the hotel? The boss asked me to walk you back. He doesn’t like any of his performers out on the street alone.”
“Just let me grab my things.” With an undercurrent of excitement, I rush back to the dressing room and pack up my things in my valise. I learned a long time ago: Never leave personal things in your dressing room if you want to keep them. When I enter the cramped room, I’m surprised to find a veritable bower of flowers on the vanity. They must have been delivered while I was performing.
Smiling, I sniff the sweet scent of the bouquet. Spying a small box wrapped in purple foil alongside the vase, I pick it up and open the attached card.
I saw these and thought of you.
I hope your performance was a hit. I miss you.
Cole
I rip off the paper, then frown in confusion as I see the box of waffle-shaped cookies. He thought of me? Then it hits me. The first time we went anywhere together he took me out for waffles at Child’s. My heart bruises with tenderness. He does love me. I know he does.
Whistling, happier than I ever thought I could be, I wipe away the blood from my arm and run a brush through my hair. I leave the flowers on the vanity to bring me luck for tomorrow’s performance and tuck the cookies in my pocketbook before meeting Bronco Billy at the exit.
His blue, blue eyes crinkle up as he gives me that slow smile that starts at the corner of his mouth and spreads across his face like the sun. He holds his arm out and I tuck mine through his. Gasping at Hungary’s bitter winter wind, I hurry my steps. Downtown Budapest is bustling, in spite of the late hour, with couples wrapped up against the chill, scurrying from dance hall to dance hall.
“Would you like to stop somewhere for coffee and pastry?”
I hesitate, not sure how Cole would feel. On the other hand, Billy’s at least four years older than I am, so it’s not as if I’m interested in him romantically. I shrug and he leads me across the street to an all-night restaurant.
The fragrant warmth is welcoming, and I remove my coat as we find a table. The restaurant is packed with gaily dressed revelers intent on enjoying their Saturday night. Cigarette smoke lies heavy in the air and the room is a sea of sequins, feathers, and cloches. It could be any café on any street corner in New York City except for the sound of Hungarian tickling my ears.
I tilt my head, listening. It’s tantalizingly familiar and every once in a while I fancy I hear a word I should know.
I order coffee and a
palacsinta
. Billy raises an eyebrow. “It’s rather like a sweet crepe filled with walnuts,” I tell him as he orders the same.
“
Köszönöm
,” I tell her.
Even though her hair is more gray than brown, she gives Bronco Billy a long, lingering look. He smiles at her easily before she moves on. He just has that kind of impact on women.
“You want a cigarette?” Bronco Billy asks after she leaves.
I pass.
He lights his cigarette and blows the smoke out in a huff. “Where did you learn Hungarian?”
“My mother comes from Hungary, but she moved to the States just before I was born. She spoke both Hungarian and English to me as a child, but as she learned more and more English she stopped speaking the old language altogether. Eventually, I forgot I ever learned it. I only remember the odd word or two, but I do remember how delicious
palacsinta
are.”
“Where do you come from?”
What is this? Twenty questions? My suspicion of people is as natural to me as my blue eyes, but I suppress it.
He’s just being friendly
, I tell myself. “All over, really. My mother was a mentalist and a performer. We moved around a lot. What about you?” I say, before he can ask another question. “You told me about how boring cowboy work was, but how did you actually get into vaudeville?”
He smiles and, in spite of the fact that we’re just colleagues, my pulse speeds up. He’s just that beautiful.
“I told you how I used to practice my lariat work and gun tricks out of lack of anything else to do, right?” I nod and he continues. “One time the boss gave us younger cowboys the night off to go into town and see a traveling circus. It was one of those poor, tired circuses, but it certainly looked like more fun than what I was doing, so when I was offered a job as a hand, I jumped on it. Once the manager saw my repertoire of tricks, I was promoted to performer. I never looked back.”
My eyes widen. “Really? I worked in a circus, too. I was a knife girl!”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “It’s quite a life, isn’t it? I only traveled with them for six months, but what a cast of characters! There was this old guy, a sword swallower who could swallow three swords at one time.”
Excitement causes me to sit upright. “Swineguard?”
His eyebrows shoot up. “How did you know?”
I start laughing. “Swineguard taught me everything I know about handling a knife.”
The corner of his mouth quirks up and he raises an eyebrow. “You carry a knife?”
I laugh harder and barely get the words out. “Of course. What self-respecting knife girl doesn’t?”
He joins me and the last vestiges of my shyness disappear.
“I can’t believe you worked for the same circus I did!” he finally says.
I wipe my eyes, my laughter abating. The waitress comes back and drops off our food and coffee, and for a few moments we’re silent as we taste the
palacsinta
, which are every bit as wonderful as I remember.
“These are good,” he says, and promptly waves down the waitress to order another.
I nod, my mouth too full to reply, and take a sip of my coffee. “You know, it’s really not that surprising that we worked in the same circus. Just how many circuses could there be roaming small towns in the West? The bigger, well-known circuses only hit the big cities.”
He nods. “That’s true. Did you know Hairy Harold? I would have never believed anyone could have that much hair without seeing it for myself.”
I laugh and we talk for the next hour, discussing the people we both knew and the places we’ve both been. I find myself relaxing and tell him far more about my life than I would just anyone. I even tell him about my mother and the séances.
I finally look at him with a bit of surprise. “It’s nice to talk to someone who understands without explaining why you feel certain ways about things or having to censor yourself because your words are too shocking.”
He nods. “Most people don’t understand that you can do things you’re not proud of to survive and still be a good person at heart.”
I feel the sadness of regret coming from him and can detect from his voice that there’s something he’s not telling me. I don’t pry, though. I understand the need to hide things.
In spite of my success and the entertaining night out, a fine layer of melancholy settles over me after I reach my room. I think again of Jeanne’s eagerness to leave the kind of life I desired. For so long I thought I wanted the life of a normal girl, and it took a crisis to make me realize just how important my magic is to me. Now that I have that, I’m strangely dissatisfied. Isn’t this what I wanted?
Restlessly, I ready myself for bed and turn down the gas lamp. The hotel the company put us up in is shabby, but at least the heat works and the bed looks comfortable. I pull the heavy quilts up to my chin but am too keyed up to sleep. I wonder what Cole is doing and if he’s thinking about me. I hate feeling so insecure about him, but he either doesn’t understand that I need occasional reassurance or he’s so sure of our relationship that he doesn’t feel the necessity. But there is a need. How could I possibly fit into Cole’s tidy En-glish life? I remember all the times I’ve shocked him without meaning to, like when he discovered I’d been with a circus or that I carried a knife. I can’t help but wonder how many times he’s hidden his shock over something I’ve said or done.
My fingertips go numb and I roll over onto my side, hoping the change in position will help. It doesn’t, and the pins and needles feeling travels up my hands into my elbows. At the same time, the same feeling attacks my feet and slowly inches up my legs.
My breath quickens. What’s happening to me? Something heavy and solid pushes me down into my bed like a weight has been dropped on top of my body. I want to struggle against it, but it’s so heavy I can’t. I lie on the bed, trying to focus my scattered thoughts. Suddenly, something shatters and my heart slams against my chest. My eyes stare at the mirror above the bureau as little flashes of light emit from the glass. That’s when I know:
The lights are coming from the mirror.
Fear, sour and metallic, coats my mouth and my heart feels as if it’s going to beat out of my chest. I wiggle underneath the weight of the invisible heavy thing, but it’s as if a giant fist is holding me against the bed. I open my mouth to scream, and suddenly my body is released.
I remain motionless, terror pulsing through my veins with my blood. My heartbeat is so loud it’s a wonder it isn’t heard in the next room. As soon as I’m able to move, I crawl out of bed and light the gas lamp. The glow reaches every corner of the room, chasing away the shadows. I look throughout the small room and bathroom but can’t find any broken glass.
My feet ache from the cold floor and my legs tremble as I crawl back to bed. I’m going crazy, imagining things that aren’t there. Even as I tell myself that, I know it isn’t true. No matter how implausible it seems, it was real. The only explanation I can think of is that it’s a dead person having a joke on me. It’s never happened before, but that’s not to say it can’t. My closeness to Cole has made my abilities sharper and stronger.
I suck in my breath and pull the covers around me tighter. Why have I never thought about that before? What happens if I spend the rest of my life with Cole? Will my abilities continue to change and grow as long as I’m with him? What does that mean? Will I soon be seeing dead people everywhere? Having nightly visions? Feeling everyone’s emotions? My chest tightens. What if my ability to control my talents doesn’t keep pace with their growth?
Am I willing to risk my own sanity to be with Cole?
T
he train broke down. Again.
This is the third time our train has had unexplained mechanical problems. Louie’s starting to mutter about a curse and the rest of the troupe agrees that they’ve never had such bad luck. At least this time the train broke before we left the station and we can wait in relative comfort.
I take advantage of the lull and hurry to a public telephone. Even more unsure of Polish money than I am of British pounds, I reverse the charge and hope that the butler, or whoever answers the phone, will accept.
To my relief it’s Cole.
“Anna!”
My heart leaps at the sound of his voice. “Cole!”
“How are you?” we ask at the same time and then we laugh.
“You first. How is the tour going?”
“Fantastic. We played our final show last night and I should be home in a few days, barring any more train troubles.”
“Train troubles?”
“I’ll tell you when I get back. How is everything with you? Have you started school yet?”
“No. I’m going to wait until the fall. With everything going on . . .”
I hear the concern in his voice. “Has anything else happened?”
He lowers his voice. “Not exactly. We do have more information about Pratik’s death, though. That stone he had in his hand? It had markings on it. Harrison used his contacts to get it checked out. We already knew that it was cult related, but now believe that it was some sort of black magic. Whoever did it needed Pratik’s blood for a spell.”
My stomach turns as I think of that handsome, sad young man. Who could do something like that? “Do you have any idea who might have done it?”
I could hear his sigh. “No, but the Yard is doing a search on anyone in the country who is an expert in the occult or black magic. Of course, that also includes university professors, et cetera. Once we have the list, we can check it against people who might have knowledge of our existence.”
I shut my eyes for a moment. I’ve been so busy performing I almost forgot about the horror waiting for me back in London. Plus, I have my own horror to contend with here. The strange nocturnal occurrence hasn’t happened again, but I have shared a room with Sandy for most of the trip since Budapest. I have, however, had two of those strange buzzing headaches as if a hive of honeybees has been loosed in my head. I decide against telling Cole over the phone. Though no one is paying much attention to me, people are milling about rather close. “I should be able to help once I return,” I tell him. “I’ll have several days off.” I don’t say maybe we can do something fun, because it seems so petty considering everything, but I do need it. I need to spend time with Cole alone doing something other than talking about cults and murders. The tour has drained me and I long with all my heart to do something lighthearted and crazy and fun.
Just then Billy strolls past, his handsome features alight with interest as he views the world around him. A slight smile curves his lips as if he finds life endlessly wonderful. He spots me and his smile deepens. A slow blush travels up my body and I smile and duck my head before he can spot the redness in my cheeks. Cole’s saying something but I miss it. “Excuse me? I’m sorry. I was distracted.”
“I just wanted to let you know that I’ll meet you at the station. Perhaps we can go get something to eat? I won’t have a lot of time if the investigation heats up, but I’m sure we can figure out something.”
I swallow. I can hear the worry in his voice and know his quick mind has already leaped to something else. I confirm the date and time of my arrival and pause, waiting for him to say something personal. He pauses too, and for a moment neither of us says anything.
“I guess I’ll see you then?”
A lump rises in my throat and I nod before realizing he can’t see me. “Yes.”
“All right. And, Anna?”
“Yes?”
“I miss you.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. It wasn’t much but it was better than nothing at all. “I miss you, too.”
I hang up, my heart swelling with disappointment. Seeing Louie waving at me from across the station, I quietly gather my things and join the rest of the troupe. They’re chatting excitedly about the new luxury train that had been brought in to take us stranded passengers to our new destination. Billy is by my side in a heartbeat. “Do you need any help?”
I shake my head.
“You just ask if you need anything, you hear? I’ll be right there.” His blue eyes smile at me and my pulse races.
I could be in trouble.
My excitement mounts as the train lurches into London. The journey from Calais to London had seemed interminable, but now that it’s over, it feels as if the entire trip sped by. The troupe fell into an easy routine of traveling and performing and, after some tweaking here and there, we had really come together. Of course, being stuck together during the great train debacles helped. Nothing like being thrown together for hours to forge the bonds and friendships necessary to create a group of people eager for the success of a show. The larger changes, such as reordering acts, will be done over the next few weeks.
“Are you excited to be back in London?” Billy sits in the seat next to me that Jeanne had just vacated.
“Being in the same circus makes us practically kissing cousins,” he’d drawled the second night we went out to eat after a performance. I’d blushed, but he gave me such a devilish grin that I ended up laughing.
“Actually I am,” I told him. “It will be nice to have a few days off.”
“Do you have any plans?”
I chew on my lip. As excited as I am to see Cole, it also means dealing with all the trouble with the Society and a murder investigation. It’s not like I’m returning to a happy homecoming. “Visit with friends, I suppose,” I say.
“No sightseeing? That’s no fun. You should get out and see more of jolly old England. Don’t you want to see Big Ben or London Bridge or the National Gallery?”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re going to an art museum while you’re here?”
He shifts in his seat. “Well, no,” he admits. “But I would like to see Madame Tussauds wax museum.”
“I’d like to see that too, actually.”
He nods. “Let’s do it, then. Before we go to France, we’ll go to Madame Tussauds.”
I swallow, thinking of the investigation, the Society, seeing Cole. “I’m not sure I’m going to have time . . .” My voice trails off awkwardly.
For a moment, a shadow crosses his face. “Oh, sure. Well, let me know if you do. If not, I can always go with Sal and Sandy.”
My stomach hollows. I’d love to go with him, but is it fair to bring him into the craziness of my life? “I’ll let you know. I really would like to go.” I give him a smile to illustrate my sincerity and he nods.
“Sounds good.”
He returns to his seat just as the train lurches into Charing Cross station. I forget everything as I scan the crowd for Cole’s tall form. I don’t see him as the train comes to a stop and I drum my fingers on the armrest of my seat, waiting to disembark.
When it’s time to get off, I snatch up my valise and handbag and get in the line heading out the door. I step onto the platform, my eyes flicking this way and that, until I finally spot Cole’s black Homburg tipped just so. I wave my valise wildly, grinning like a happy monkey. The doubts that have plagued me for the last few weeks vanish like a puff of smoke.
I rush down the steps, my chest pounding. It’s not until I’m within several feet of him that I realize he doesn’t seem to be nearly as happy to see me as I am him. I falter, wondering if he’s going to hug me in greeting or just stand there like a lump of handsome flesh. Discomfort sticks out all over him, from the clenching of his jaw to the tension running across his broad shoulders.
My throat tightens in disappointment. What’s wrong? Has something happened or is this just Cole being Cole and not wanting to show affection in public? And why can’t anything just be simple with us anymore? He bends and gives me an awkward kiss on the cheek. “Welcome back. I hope you had a good trip.”
It’s hard to believe this is the same boy who gave me such a passionate kiss at our good-bye. “Fine, thank you.”
Cole reaches out and takes my valise. As his hand brushes mine I try to make a connection but can’t.
“Do we need to get your things?” he asks.
Hurt runs through me and tears prick my eyes. I try to tell myself that everything is fine, that this is just the way Cole is, but it doesn’t help. “Just the trunk with my clothes in it. All the props are being taken to the theater.”
We wait for the porter to unload my case and I try to make an emotional connection with Cole.
Nothing.
My chest constricts. Cole is blocking me. Why? Is he feeling something he doesn’t want me to know about?
“Anna!”
My head swivels and Billy gives me a easygoing wave. “I’ll see you later?”
His handsome face is so open and friendly that I smile and nod. “Of course!”
His magnetic one-of-a-kind smile lights up his face and he gives me another wave.
Jealousy hits me like a bag of bricks and I turn to Cole in disbelief before the block goes up again. He snatches up my bag. “Are we ready?” he asks. His mouth flattens into a tight line and his back is ramrod straight.
I nod, resentment keeping me mute. How dare he be angry with me because I smiled and waved at someone I work with? How dare he?
Cole clears his throat as we leave the station. “I was a bit worried I’d be late to meet you. Leandra and Calypso held me up at the Society. Calypso wanted to come with me, but Leandra needed to talk to her.”
His voice may contain a note of apology, but the words are like darts aimed at my heart. Only Cole would think it all right to tell his girl that he was almost late to get her because of other women.
Once we reach the motorcar, he opens my door and I get in, a mixture of anger, jealousy, and concern swirling in my stomach. I don’t even know what to say to him. This is definitely not the welcome I had expected, but considering our argument before I left, perhaps I should have. Maybe I was a fool to think that the kiss had made up for it?
“What’s going on?” I ask bluntly after he starts the car.
He glances at me, his brows drawn together. “You’re going to have to be more specific. There’s so much going on, I don’t know what you want to know about first.”
Us. I want to know what is going on with us. But all my emotions are tangled inside, so instead I blurt, “What were you doing with Calypso and Leandra?”
He glances over at me, his brows raised. “With everything that’s happening, that’s what you want to know first?”
Why does he have to make me feel so small? “I was just wondering,” I mutter.
“It’s like I said. I stopped at the Society this morning and she and Leandra both happened to be there. What is the matter with you? Don’t you like them?”
Why does he have to sound so reasonable? “Nothing is the matter. Of course, I like them. I’m just tired. Forget I said anything.” I stare out the window, holding back tears of anger and confusion.
Silence falls until Cole clears his throat again. “Now, would you like to hear about the investigation?”
Actually, I’m torn between wanting to hit him and wanting to kiss him, so I just take a deep breath and nod. His face gets serious and I marvel at the way he can separate all his feelings into little boxes. Along with his analytical mind, it’s one of the qualities that will make him a good detective.
I don’t think I’ll ever be that focused and I try to keep my mind on what he’s saying.
“We haven’t had as many breakthroughs as we’d like, but odd things keep popping up. We did finally find a witness who saw Pratik on the day he disappeared.”
“That’s good!” I exclaim.
“Yes, except when Harrison and I went to interrogate her, she seemed incredibly confused and had a hard time even recalling the incident.”
I frown. “How did you know about her in the first place?”
“We spoke to a shopkeeper near where Mr. Gamel and Pratik live and he pointed us in her direction. Evidently, the woman mentioned the incident to him. She says she thought it odd to see an Indian man being led by a white woman as if he were blind.”
I screw up my face, trying to understand. “And now she acts like she doesn’t remember?”
Cole nods. “Strange, right? Of course, she complained of having a horrible headache, so we made arrangements to return later that week, but that interview didn’t go any better. She said she only vaguely recalls the incident and has no details. She can’t remember what the woman looked like at all.”
He pulls over in front of my hotel but doesn’t get out of the car so I stay put as well.
“Do you have any other leads?”
“Apparently Pratik had been acting strangely the week before his disappearance. Very moody. Well, you met him. But according to Rose and Jenny, he had been really talkative with them. Rose even thought maybe he had fallen in love.”
I frown. “That’s not the sense I got at all when I met him. Did you notice him acting that way?”
Cole shakes his head. “I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, but I didn’t see much of him in the week before he disappeared. The day we came to get you was the first day I’d seen him in almost two weeks. He seemed preoccupied, but I thought maybe he was really involved in some testing. Sometimes that happens.”
“Who was he working with?”
“Mr. Price.” Cole chews on his upper lip, his dark eyes brooding. I try to get a sense of what he’s feeling, but all I get is his worry. At least he’s not blocking me. “What?” I ask, knowing there’s more.
“Someone tried to take Leandra. That’s one of the reasons I was at the Society this morning.”
I straighten. “Is she all right?”
“She’s fine. She sent the boys to stay with Harrison’s mother in the country but spent the night in the apartment at the Society. Harrison had a late night and didn’t want her to be alone so she stayed with the rest of the Sensitives. She was attacked on her way home the next morning. She was walking and someone grabbed her from behind and tried to pull her into an alley. Luckily a Good Samaritan happened by. Harrison is fit to be tied, because very few people knew she wasn’t staying in her house.”