The Thorndyke Trilogy 2: Dancing at Midnight (23 page)

Would that make a difference? If only she hadn’t told that stupid lie! But his arrogance and her instant angry response had led to a result she hadn’t stopped regretting. Especially that fucking poster.

At least they were redoing it. They were putting up a picture of Nathan and her dancing. A bigger draw than her on her own, and with any luck, the ballerina story would be forgotten or at least dismissed as an unfortunate mistake.

But half that audience last night thought she was someone she was not. Would they accept her for herself?

The water was getting cold. She climbed out and found a towel, scrubbing herself off before shrugging into her robe and strolling into the great room on her way to the kitchen. She swept up the tablet Nathan had given her to use. She’d Skype him later. Now, while she filled the container on the coffeemaker, selected a decaf latte pod, and set the machine to work, she idly looked for more reviews on the tablet.

While the aroma of brewing coffee filled the kitchen, she stared at the screen.
Fuck. Fuck, hell and damnation.

BALLET DANCER TURNED STRIPPER, the caption screamed.

Someone had taken a photo in the club. Customers were banned from taking pictures while the acts were on, but it would take time to track the perpetrator, and in any case, the deed was done.

There she was, naked but for panties and shoes, in the arms of a man who gazed at her as if she were his possession. A perfect shot of the middle of the piece when he was trying to claim her. But the readers wouldn’t know that.

She switched to images and did the same search. It was all over the place. People had spread that shot around faster than breathing. That was why they called the phenomenon “going viral.”

The original blog clearly identified her as the famous European dancer. Named the dancer, named Kristen as an alias. If she knew Isadora, she’d be over here, maternity leave or no, to put paid to the lie. And Kristen would be sunk. Dead in the water. What would Nathan think about her then?

He’d throw her out of his life, that was what.

When her cell phone rang, she only took her attention away from her tablet long enough to see who it was. She answered the call. “Hi, Stu. Did you need me?”

“I just thought we’d meet for breakfast. Or supper, if you want. I’m not working tonight.”

“Okay. But can you come over here?” Still cautious, even of her brother, she didn’t want to take any chances. Or arrive with Smokey as her escort and have to explain why.

“Sure.”

“You know where to come?”

“Yep.”

Time she showed him the palatial luxury she was living in. And time she talked to him about the club. She’d promised Nathan not to talk to anyone about the PHR, but even without that, Vampire Heaven was a sleazy dive. She’d help Stu get a job somewhere else, maybe behind the bar at Maskerade. And she wanted to talk to him about his studies. He was spending too much time at that club, and he must have exams coming up in a couple of months. On her salary, she could afford for him to give up work and concentrate on the important stuff. Her parents would approve, and he’d get the rest he needed.

Finals were a bitch, or so she understood. “We’ll find a movie on the TV. You bring the pizza; I’ll provide the movie.”

Just like the old days when they’d sprawl on her family’s oddball collection of sofas and cushions with her other siblings to watch the latest superhero movie or a cartoon. She missed those like she missed the free and easy relaxed atmosphere of home. This apartment was little short of amazing, but without Nathan here, it felt empty, a shell rather than a home.

A beautiful place, but a showplace without his vital, necessary presence. Especially now he’d told her he loved her. She reminded herself of his words through the whole day, shamelessly wallowing in their happiness.

He called her later on from a number she didn’t recognize. Probably a burner phone because he wouldn’t want anyone to trace him. “I can’t talk long, I’m sorry. I just wanted to let you know that I’m okay. You must be going stir crazy.”

She laughed. “I’m missing you, that’s all. Steve and I went through a bit more of the routine, and then he went to the club to audition partners for his next dance. He isn’t without takers, but Betty’s looking great in the part. Stu’s coming around later with pizza. We’ll watch a movie.” She felt better telling Nathan.

“I’m glad you won’t be alone.” He paused and then said, “I’m fine with that, as long as you stay in the building. Everything is going okay here. Nobody followed us, and I’ll be back tomorrow. Take care, and when you’re lying in that big bed, think of me, because I’ll sure as hell be thinking of you.”

He probably tried to hide his anxiety, but she knew him too well now. She’d bet her best pair of practice shoes that he’d call Smokey and ensure Stu arrived on his own and left the same way.

He rang off without a sickly
Love you
, which she wouldn’t have thanked him for. They weren’t the kind of people who blatantly declared their love at every moment. At least, not in words, although their dance said it better than anything else could.

What was he going to say when he paused? He was probably about to warn her about Stu’s employers. She didn’t need that warning, which was why he may have decided to say nothing. She wouldn’t say a thing, just hang out with her brother. Nothing else. They had plenty to talk about without the club. For one thing, she wanted to broach the subject of his exams. He only had a few months, three at the most, to make good on two years’ study.

When Stu arrived that evening, pizza box in hand, he looked a bit more like the scrappy student she was used to. He’d pulled his dyed, straggly hair back into a ponytail, but his skin was still pale, even without the makeup, and he wore black.

She dished up the pizza while Stu was choosing a movie. He chose
The Lost Boys
and not, she guessed, because Keifer Sutherland looked hot even with a mullet. She’d have gone for a romantic comedy or an action movie. Nathan subscribed to several services, and they could have picked the latest superhero movie, but he had to pick something decades old because it had vampires in it.

When she teased him about it, he only said, “There’s some truth in the movie. I like it. Does beer offend you?”

Anxious not to create a scene, she shook her head and went to find the bottle opener. He’d brought some of the continental beer from his club. She never wanted to taste the stuff again. But the bottles were still sealed, so she figured she’d choke one down for the sake of peace.

They started the movie and settled to watch it.

After the first couple slices of pizza and half a bottle of beer, she began to relax. They were talking like brother and sister again—in half sentences, referring to things and people only they knew. People from back home.

“Do you miss it?” she asked him.

“Sometimes.” He took a swig from his own bottle. “But I like Chicago. I might stay here for a while.”

“After you graduate?”

“Yeah.” He took another drink. “Maybe I won’t.”

A dull shock reverberated through her. “What, graduate?”

“I’m beginning to wonder why I’d bother. After all, the lecturers are antiquated and the system sucks. You can’t get a job at the end of it, so what’s the point?”

She tried not to shriek at him, but really she wanted to ask him why he was so stupid all of a sudden and what had made him think this way. She was afraid she knew only too well. His mesmerizing boss. Mesmerizing in the worst way possible. If Stu didn’t graduate, that made him more reliant on Trent and less likely to drift away.

So instead of trying to reason with him, she said, “It can’t hurt. You’ve come this far; surely you can stick it out until the exams are over.”

He glanced at her, as if surprised by her response. “I’ve not done much work this last six months. I’d have to work to the exclusion of everything else to hope for something good.”

“What do Mom and Dad think about that?”

He swung his beer loosely by the neck and turned his head to meet her gaze. To her horror, she saw nothing in his, no concern, no liveliness even.
Oh shit
. She couldn’t let this go on. She had to get Stu out of that place.

“I haven’t told them yet.”

Oh no. Fuck, no
. This wasn’t going to happen. “You could move into the guest apartment here. There’s plenty of room, although I’d have to check with Nathan first.”

What student would say no to living in a luxury penthouse on Lake Shore Drive? This one, that was who. “Nah. I’m good.”

Kristen decided to ask Nathan for his help. He could snap Stu out of it. Maybe she was wrong and Stu was doing all this from a free-and-clear decision, but she doubted it.

Her little brother was in trouble. Had he been sent to take her tonight? Hardly likely. He was on his own. Because of her job, her muscles were as honed as Stu’s, probably more. She could take him blindfolded. Always could.

Instead, she watched the movie and drank her beer, hating the taste every moment. She sipped it and made it last as long as she could, afraid Stu would offer her another. One was more than enough.

He hadn’t even asked about her triumph, although he must know. They’d had great publicity, and the posters outside the club were being changed. Right now, nothing mattered except getting her brother back to normal. She’d have to let him go tonight, although that went against the grain.

Either the movie was more boring than she remembered or the activity of the past forty-eight hours was catching up with her, because lassitude and outright apathy crept over her. Not sleepiness, but exhaustion. She could bathe, go to bed, and dream. Whatever.

She didn’t feel the need to broach the subject of Stu giving up work. Not yet, but soon. When she’d rested. So after the movie, when he glanced at his watch and said he should be getting back, she didn’t argue but offered to see him to the door. He smiled, hugged her, and told her she was doing okay and he’d come to the club to watch the act when Nathan got back. She’d just told him Nathan had gone away on business.

“You did good, big sister. Have you told Mom yet?”

That was more like the brother she knew. “I’m planning to call her tomorrow. She’ll be at Aunt Bessie’s today. It’s her turn to cook dinner, and I didn’t fancy chatting with the whole family. I’d have been on the phone all day.”

“Good thinking.” He grinned. “They’re great, our family, but overwhelming. And you must be tired after last night.”

More than he knew, but she quelled her responsive smile at the reminder of what had happened after the dance.

She opened the door and gave him a last hug. “Come around again. Soon. Give me a call.”

“Will you come to the club?”

“Maybe.” She could use her dancing as an excuse, but she had no intention of going anywhere near that place again.

A breath of movement from her left made her look around.

“We meet again,” said Trent De’Ath.

The last thought before she went under was that he sounded like a villain from a bad movie. Too bad he didn’t have a mustache to twirl.

Chapter Twelve

Nathan and Diana took the plane to Washington, DC, and then Nathan had flown them to Baltimore, a personal dragon ride for the thrilled vampire on his back, fuzzing to disguise his appearance. After that, a hop to Philadelphia and then up to New York. Nobody had shared their flights all the way. Tedious but necessary, to ensure that nobody had followed them, and to aid Diana in her change of personality. Nobody would be able to track her directly back to Chicago and the club.

Nathan had also insisted on leaving their luggage behind and buying new clothes in case someone was tracing them. He didn’t want to do this twice, so he took every precaution he could think of, right down to changing their appearance. He arrived in New York in a pale blue shirt, leather pants, and a cowboy hat, swaggering like a Texan with his arm slung around his charge’s shoulders like a lover. Nobody took any notice of them, but he was glad to get to the club, where he could send a member of staff out for clothes.

Dalton didn’t come with them. He met them on the next stage of the journey.

Now Nathan and Dalton sat in his office in New York. “Nobody followed us,” Nathan assured Dalton. “I’m eighty percent sure. I have people watching Vampire Heaven and my apartment. No reports up to now, and I didn’t sense anyone after us.”

He took his cup of coffee to the big glass desk and sat in front of it. Dalton had taken the seat behind.

Dalton was planning to take Diana straight to another station, but Nathan didn’t know, nor did he want to know, where they were going. Part of the security of the Thorndykes was that ignorance, so if anyone asked him, or tried to read him, he couldn’t tell them.

His job was done, and he could get home to Kristen. He was tempted to set off tonight, even if it meant chartering a plane, but the day had tired him, and he’d feel much better after a night’s rest. Ready for the next performance tomorrow. He smiled at the recollection.

“So you and Kristen are an item?” Dalton asked. He leaned back in the black upholstered desk chair and propped his booted feet on the desk.

“Yes,” Nathan said shortly. “We’re together.”

Dalton snorted. “All that after your promises never to get involved with a woman again? You’re a born romantic, my friend. Try to catch me doing that.”

“Famous last words.” Nathan laughed, more lighthearted than he’d been for years. “I wouldn’t put money on you not joining us. Jay and I are happily paired off. It won’t be long.”

“Last rake standing?” Dalton flicked his fingers in a gesture of dismissal. “No chance.” Like Nathan, he used an American accent, but in his case, the clipped New England version, since his family in America hailed from there. He was part of American royalty, exchanging one class system for another instead of dropping the whole thing entirely. Once they’d come over here, it was up to them.

Jay had remained defiantly English but lived in Texas now with his very Texan vampire girlfriend. Wife, Nathan corrected himself. And the notion occurred to him. Why not marry Kristen? The very idea made him suck in a breath. Was he really that sure? Immediately the response came. Yes, he was.