Leischneudel handed it over.
I called Thack's cell. He didn't pick up, so I left a message on his voice mail. “Your Uncle Peter just tried to kill Leischneudel. We've knocked him out and tied him up in Daemon's dressing room. I think you should come to the theater and talk to him.
Right away
.”
“Thack sent his
uncle
to kill me?” Leischneudel said shrilly. “I thought Thack liked me!”
“No, Uncle Peter was supposed to be the interpreter for the vampire hunter,” I said. “Thack mentioned that his uncle had done a little vampire hunting; but since he's managed to be captured by
us
, I'd say he's pretty rusty. I'm guessing he got a little too excited about being back in action and overstepped his mark.”
“Overstepped?”
Leischneudel repeated. “Esther, he pointed a
crossbow
at my
head!
”
“We have the crossbow now,” I said reassuringly, waving it at him. “And he's tied up.”
“Who let a stranger with a weapon into the building?” Leischneudel demanded.
“That's a good question.” I knew the cops were overwhelmed, but I found it hard to believe they'd been distracted enough to let someone waltz past them with a crossbow. “And if Uncle Peter is here, then where isâ”
Leischneudel and I clutched each other in panic as the door flew open without warning. Daemon stalked into the room.
He slipped on the spilled champagne and cursed as he righted himself. He tripped on Uncle Peter and gave the unconscious man an irritable kick before he stepped over him.
I quickly closed the door while Daemon flung himself into a chair.
“My God, I thought
yesterday
was the worst day of my life!” he said in an aggrieved tone, still looking hungover and wrung out from last night's bender. “I now look back on yesterday as an innocent time of unspoiled pleasures and youthful dalliance. Do you know
why?
”
“Why?” Leischneudel asked, perhaps too accustomed to playing Aubrey to Daemon's Ruthven.
“Because
now
I am living through today,” Daemon declared. “Do you have any fucking idea what has happened to me
today?
”
I said, “You're not even curious, are you, about why we have an unconscious hostage and a crossbow in your dressing room?”
“Nocturne is threatening to fire me!” Daemon shouted. “I am the
face
and
voice
of Nocturne, and they're talking about dumping me!”
“Oh! Because of the whole . . .” Leischneudel made a vague gesture. “The tabloids are just
awful
today.”
“You know what
else?
My movie deal is
this
close to being canceled!” Daemon held his thumb and forefinger a millimeter apart.
“You have a movie deal?” Leischneudel asked in surprise.
“Princeling of Darkness,”
Daemon replied.
“Feature film?” I asked.
“Cable TV,” Daemon said darkly. “It's about a vampire who proves he's innocent of murder by hunting down the fiend who actually exsanguinated his lover.
“Wow, and they might not want
you
for that anymore?” I said. “Go figure.”
“
And
when I came to work just now, I was spat on, insulted, and pelted with garbage outside the theater by people who were my devoted fans before the tabloids tried to turn me into a demented killer!”
“Did you sneak in through the fire exit, like Victor suggested?” I asked,
Daemon looked blank. “When did Victor suggest that?”
“I think he left it on your voice mail.”
“Oh, I've had my phone turned off for hours. You would not
believe
the calls I'm getting! How do these people
get
my number, anyhow?” Daemon rubbed his forehead. “Where
is
Victor? Has he deserted me, too?”
“No, I think he's probably waiting for you by the fire exit. Victor said . . .” My eyes met Leischneudel's.
“Victor.”
Leischneudel looked at me inquisitively.
“Who has the most access to this dressing room besides Daemon? Who can come and go without being noticed?” I gestured to the fridge, from which bottles of blood had been quietly disappearing. “Who can take things
out
of this room without being stopped or questioned?”
Leischneudel's eyes widened and he gasped. “Victor!”
“What
about
Victor?” Daemon asked irritably.
“Where was he when Adele Olson was killed?”
“Who?” Daemon was absently fishing around in his pockets for something.
I whacked him upside the head. “The murder victim, you jackass!”
“Ow! Jesus, calm down, would you?” he said. “
I'm
the one having my life destroyed by this, not you.”
“Where was Victor when the murder was committed?”
“How should
I
know? I'm more interested in where he is
now.
I need something for my stomach. And my head. And I need to use his phone. I don't want to turn mine on.”
“You really think Victor is . . .” Leischneudel wiggled his brows meaningfully at me.
Looking at him with a puzzled frown, Daemon said, “Gay? Probably. But I don't ask about his personal life.”
“Tarr says he doesn't have a personal life,” I mused.
How twisted might that make a person? Or a vampire?
“
Tarr.
Is
he
here?” Daemon stood up, swayed briefly, then pulled himself together. “I want a word with him. No! I want five minutes alone in a room with him, no rules, no referee.”
As he headed for the door, I said, “Don't tripâ”
Daemon tripped.
“âon Uncle Peter.”
Looking down at Thack's uncle, Daemon said, “All right. Fine. I'll bite. Why
is
there an unconscious man tied up on the floor of my dressing room?”
“No one really knows,” Leischneudel said.
“Here's something else we don't know.” I joined them in gazing down at Uncle Peter, who looked peaceful and was snoring a little now. “Where is the vampire hunter who was supposed to be with him? Did his airplane not take off from Vilnius? Did the guy never get here? Where . . .
Oh, my God
.”
“What?” Leischneudel said.
“What?”
“He's here,” I said with certainty. “The vampire hunter is in the building.”
“No!” Leischneudel dived behind a chair again, taking cover.
“
That's
how they got in here with weapons,” I said. “They climbed up to the roof after dark, then rappelled down via old air shaft.” I looked down at Uncle Peter with more respect now. Sure, he was rusty, but he still had the right stuff. “
Two
ropes hanging down. Edvardas Froese is here, too.”
“For God's sake,” Daemon said. “They couldn't just buy tickets from a scalper, like everyone else?”
“They're not here to see the show,” I snapped. “They're vampire hunters. Uncle Peter probably came in here to interview you. While Edvardas is doing recon or something. Who knows? The only stories I've heard about vampire hunting are from eighteenth-century Serbia, and they were slaying the undead. Edvardas has a whole different sort of quarry to hunt down.”
From behind his chair, Leischneudel wailed.
“Just keep a low profile,” I said to him. “I'm going to go see if I can find Edvardas. A total stranger carrying a crossbow and speaking only Lithuanian probably stands out, even around
here.
I'll see if I can get through to him with pantomime gestures or something. Don't untie Uncle Peter until I get back. We want to make sure he knows not to kill you before we let him loose.”
Leischneudel grunted an affirmative.
“And I,” said Daemon through gritted teeth, “am going to find Tarr and kill him with my bare hands!”
He flung open the door to march through it.
We came face-to-face with a tall, slim, powerfully built man with a neatly trimmed beard who had his pale blond hair tied back in a ponytail. He wore a long suede coat, old boots, and leather pants, and he carried a crossbow.
Now this is more like it.
“Edvardas Froese,” I said with certainty.
He glanced at me and lifted one brow. He looked at Daemon, and his eyes narrowed in recognition. Perhaps he'd had a case file to study on his transatlantic journey.
Then he saw Uncle Peter lying on the floor behind me, unconscious and securely bound. In a split second, he raised his crossbow and pointed it at Daemon.
“Vampyras!”
Edvardas cried in a deep baritone voice.
I didn't need to speak Lithuanian to understand
that.
“Whoa.” Daemon raised his hands. “What the hell are you
doing
, man?”
“He doesn't speak English,” I said.
Daemon looked at me. “You
know
this guy?”
“Not exactly.”
Edvardas spoke coldly to Daemon. I didn't understand the words, but the intent certainly came across as, “I'll see you in hell!”
“Wait! No!” With no idea what else to do, I raised Uncle Peter's crossbow, which I was still holding, and pointed it at Edvardas.
Keeping his eyes on Daemon, he said something dismissive to me.
“I'll shoot!” I warned.
Daemon sighed. “Look, I don't know what language this guy is speaking. But I'm pretty sure he's telling you that thing isn't loaded.”
“What?” I looked down at my weapon. “How can you tell?”
Edvardas snickered.
“Oh,
shit,
” I said. “Uncle Peter's even rustier than we thought.”
“The old man was pointing an empty weapon at me?” Leischneudel blurted from his hiding place inside the dressing room.
On our left, Bill was running down the hall toward us. “What the hell is going on here?” he shouted. “Esther! Daemon! Who
is
that?”
Somewhere to our right, Mad Rachel starting screaming, “They're coming in! They're coming
in!
”
The combination of stimuli was enough to distract even a seasoned vampire hunter. Edvardas looked around, perhaps thinking he was being ambushed from multiple directions. I realized we had to disarm him to prevent a potential fatality before his interpreter woke up and could be convinced to tell him not to kill us. So I flung myself at him while he was off his guard, and the two of us went flying into the far wall together.
I heard a short, soft, menacing sound that I didn't recognize, immediately followed by Daemon shouting, “Jesus! That nearly hit me!”
I realized the crossbow had misfired when Edvardas stumbled into the wall with me. He flung me aside with one muscular arm as easily as if I were a paper napkin. I reeled backward and fell down as he launched himself at Daemon, who was shrieking, “I'm an actor! I'm an actor!”
Leischneudel appeared in the doorway, his lips quivering, his eyes glassy with fear. But he was a hero, deep down. When he saw what was happening, he joined Bill in jumping on top of the vampire hunter and pummeling him.
Edvardas was darned impressive, I had to admit. He fought three men at once (well, two, anyhowâDaemon was mostly cowering and shrieking over and over that he was an actor), and he seemed to be winning.
Down the hallway, I could hear Mad Rachel screaming, “Here they come! What do we do?”
I noticed a crossbow lying on the floor near me while Edvardas fought his adversaries. He had his hands around Daemon's neck now, and he looked like he was trying to rip his head off, exactly as Jurgis Radvila had done with an undead vampire in a Serbian cemetery long ago. Acting on instinct, I picked up the crossbow, rose to my feet, and walloped Edvardas over the head with it as hard as I could.
He cried out, swayed unsteadily on his feet for a minute, then collapsed.
Daemon was choking and gagging, red-faced, with tears streaming from his eyes.
“Oh, my
God
,” Leischneudel said, panting with panic and exertion. “What do we do now?”
Bill was breathing hard, too. “I came back here to tell you the lobby has been breached. The crowds are pouring into the house. They've gone insane!”
I was also panting. “Crazy crowds rioting inside the theater? Two homicidal vampire hunters backstage, one of whom doesn't understand English?” I looked at my companions. “I say we run for it!”
“Good plan,” said Leischneudel.
“I like it!” Bill seemed bizarrely cheerful.
Daemon was waving his arms feebly, indicating he needed help to stand up. Bill and Leischneudel hauled him off the floor. He was swaying dizzily in their arms as we all turned in the direction of the stage door to make our escape.
“Run for your lives!”
Mad Rachel screamed.
I stared dumbfounded as Tarr and Rachelâwho was in full costume and makeupâran straight toward us from that direction, shouting their heads off. Then I heard the rising din of voices behind them, angry shouts, the roar of the crowd.
“They're coming through the stage door!” Tarr shouted. “The cops can't hold them off! Why do we
even
pay taxes in this city?”
Pelting down the hall behind them, I saw six men: my vampire posse and Leischneudel's Caped Crusaders.
When Flame saw me, he shouted, “The perimeter has been breached! Our position has been flanked! Man overboard!”
Silent shouted at him, “Oh, shut
up!
” Then to me: “Esther, run! We'll hold them off until you're gone!”