“That’s why I chose Godfrey,” Boris said. “I knew he was capable of making me the corpse I need to spend my afterlife with. When I died, I was banned to suffer eternity in solitude, but no more. Aren’t second changes wonderful? I found a way back here through that idiot of a medium, and when I return, it’ll be with you by my side.”
She looked between Boris and Godfrey. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I’m not usually inclined to do the killing,” Godfrey said. “I have people for that. But since Cain buried both my daughter and son, I thought it only fair to return the favor.”
“You killed your own son,” she spat at him.
“Did I? No, I believe it was a drowning. He wouldn’t have gone down in that plane if it weren’t for your father’s aeromancist. My daughter wouldn’t have died if she hadn’t been corrupted by your father’s hitman.” His voice rose in volume. “My stepson, who was more of a son to me than my own flesh and blood, was seduced into giving his life for the aeromancist’s bitch wife.” He took a deep breath and wiggled his shoulders. Calmer, again, he continued. “Anyway, I never dwell in the past. It’s not conducive for my mental health. I’d rather focus on the present and the delightful task that awaits.” He checked his watch. “While we wait for Ivan to execute my command, I have business to take care of. Any last requests before I come back?”
“Go to hell!”
He fixed his gaze on her breasts. “Until later, honey. I can hardly wait.”
She wanted to fling herself at him and punch him in the face, but she kept her anger in check. It was best to save her energy for a plan of escape.
Godfrey left and locked the door behind him.
“Do you remember the time on the bridge when you gave me that dashing smile?” Boris asked.
She hugged herself. “I wish I didn’t.”
He chuckled. “Remember what I said? I said that your eyes were pretty when you cried, and when you gave me that smile, I wanted to do something but I never finished the thought. You know what I thought? I thought I wanted to make those smiling eyes cry. So pretty when they hurt. And I will. I will take your eyes as a souvenir.”
“You’re evil and cruel.”
“At least I’m not so cruel as to leave you in the dark.” Boris motioned at the bed. “Make yourself comfortable. I have to be somewhere, too, so you have the room all to yourself.”
She took a step toward him. “You’re going to see Ivan, aren’t you?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Do you have any last messages for him?”
She balled her fists at her sides. “I’ve already told him everything he needs to know, and I sure as hell won’t let your evil mouth dirty my feelings for him by giving sound to them.”
He shrugged. “As you wish.”
Just like that, he was gone.
Alice looked around the room, her heart racing and her palms sweaty. She ran to the door and jerked on the handle, knowing it was locked. Screaming wouldn’t help. She was too deep underground in the back of the theater. Nobody ever came to the storage rooms unless it was to dump decor. Anyway, the room, like the rest in the hallway that had been used as rehearsal rooms until a few years ago, was soundproof.
She looked around for something to pick the lock with, even if she had no idea how it was done, but there was nothing. There was no other choice but to wait and try not to go out of her mind.
“Fuck!” Ivan ran up and down the corridors until he was lost. Rounding another corner, he bumped into Johnny.
“There you are.” Johnny’s tie was askew and his hair a mess, as if he’d been tearing at it. “Where is she?”
Ivan stopped only to start pacing the narrow space a second later. “I don’t know. She took the elevator to the basement but I lost her.”
“Go home. The rehearsal is off for tonight.”
“We have to find her.”
Johnny took his arm. “Listen to me. I know her. She’s curled up somewhere in a dark corner. She’ll come out when she’s ready.”
He jerked his arm away. “I’m not leaving without her.”
“You don’t have a choice. I’m throwing you out.”
“What? Have you lost your mind?”
“It’s for your safety. I promised Kate to make security a priority. Donald is waiting for you in the foyer.”
Ivan wiped a hand over his face. For the first time, he considered that making Alice sing was a mistake. He shouldn’t have pushed her so hard, but she had it in her, dammit. She could do it, and he wanted to prove it.
“After you,” Johnny said, motioning at the exit.
Ivan kicked at a portable rail loaded with costumes. The hangers rattled on the metal bar. Already, his head was drowning in dead voices. He followed Johnny down the corridor through the wardrobe lined with dummies, hopelessly seeking her face in each mannequin’s profile that he passed, wishing she’d suddenly step out of the motionless line and offer him her warm, reassuring smile.