The theater was beautiful. Every bit the sort of luxurious space I'd expected before we'd arrived at the alleyway. The seats were dark gold velvet, the carpets red, and above the main floor was an enormous crystal chandelier. There was a small pit in front of the stage, and a grand organ piano by the left wing.
Jonathon nudged me inside, and I paused at the wide bench, stroking my hands over the lush fabric.
"She's impressed," Jonathon whispered to Auguste.
"I'm amazed," I breathed. "How do you all keep a place like this secret?"
"The same way we keep ourselves secret," Auguste said with a shrug. "Some magic. A great deal of loyalty. Now come and sit between us, they'll dim the lamps soon, and you deserve a little warning of what's coming."
I hurried around the bench to sit snuggly against Auguste, eyes wide. It was broad enough for the three of us to be comfortable, but I was pleased when Jonathon sat every bit as close to me, his arm draped over the back and fingers teasing at the loose curls at the base of my neck.
"We planned our night with you before the events at Rooksgrave," Auguste said, lowering his voice and stroking his thumb tenderly over my cheek. "You like playing games with us, and I suspected you'd find this enjoyable. However, now I'm afraid some of the scenes on the stage might remind you a little too much of your attack."
"Oh!" The title, ‘Tantalizing Nightmares,’ rang through my head. Some of what happened in the grotto had been tantalizing, at least at first. I chewed on my lip, and Jonathon bent to kiss a shoulder.
"If you're uncomfortable, we can leave at any time. But I did want you to know that in spite of what the scenes might depict, everyone on stage is a very enthusiastic volunteer. Even if they are…playing the part of a victim."
"Those will be primarily humans," Jonathon added gently.
My mouth rounded, eyes growing wide, and while my heart was racing, it wasn't with fear.
"You don't mind, do you,” Auguste said, watching my expression shift, his worry sliding into delight.
I shook my head and glanced over the railing to the quickly filling room, and then at the shut curtains of the stage. "What kind of scenes?” I asked, trying to be coy and failing as both Auguste and Jonathon chuckled.
"Ones you will enjoy, Miss Reed," Jonathon purred in my ear.
I settled back into my seat, Auguste's fingers tangling with one of my hands and Jonathon's with the other. There was still conversation humming on the floor when the lights began to dim, shadows flitting from one lamp to the next.
"Pixies," Jonathon told me as one rushed by our box. "The stage managers."
A breathy giggle escaped at that news, and then the music was rising up from the pit, droning and swooning, low and ominous, and sinuous too. A figure stepped out onto the stage after a few hypnotic bars, and Auguste and Jonathon both released my hands to clap, along with the rest of the room. I joined them late and watched, gasping, as the man in his beautifully black tailored suit spread his arms. All six of them. He took a bow with a great number of flourishes, then turned and marched for the organ, and I realized that the tail dragging behind him was not an exaggerated piece of fashion, but an actual tail! Black and spiked, a little hiss of scales against the floorboards.
"He looks like great fun," I murmured, waggling my eyebrows and then laughing as Auguste pinched my thigh through my skirt. "Think of all those hands."
"You'll make do with four tonight," Auguste muttered. "But perhaps we can recruit a few others when we return to Rooksgrave."
I flashed him a grin, but was quickly diverted as the music rounded together into one long, sustained note and the curtain began to part.
A pale figure whipped past the opening curtain, and a bright, feminine cry was released before it darted quickly back again, stepping into a spotlight. It was a young woman, center stage, gasping for breath and wearing a flimsy, torn nightgown. Her hair was a pale shade of brown, eyes large and dark, and the garment was more or less transparent, the tips of her nipples shining pink through the fabric. Perhaps she rouged them as I had my lips.
I glanced at Auguste and Jonathon, and was secretly delighted to find them both staring back at me, rather than the pretty, nearly naked girl on stage. 'Watch,' Jonathon mouthed.
I bit my lip and turned back to the stage, where the girl was stumbling aimlessly, releasing little whimpers and cries as she searched for an exit she couldn't seem to find. A low growl sounded, and she rose to her toes, body arching with frozen horror. Which was all right for her, but damnit, I wanted to see whatever was growling.
Auguste laughed as I leaned forward, my eyes growing every bit as wide as the actress', searching the stage with her.
At last, the monster appeared, tall and broad, covered in shaggy dark fur, head huge and fangs glinting. It stomped out onto the stage from the back, and the girl trembled wildly, snared by its gaze, beautifully frightened. It was something like a bear, every bit as large, but with longer and slightly more human limbs. Its broad body was spread, arms wide, making itself as large as possible, and the girl appeared even frailer and more like prey.
Between the hips, rising slowly, long and angrily red and shining, was its cock. The girl let out a wail of terror and began to run, darting left, but it was obvious at once how futile her effort was.
"It's a were-bear," Jonathon whispered in my ear. "Not as common here, but—"
"Shh," I hushed him, his chuckle rushing warm breath over my neck as I leaned forward. The were-bear let out a roar so loud, it shook the room and made the chandelier tremble before launching forward on all fours, the girl screaming and her feet skidding as it guarded the exit to the wing. She spun at once, the thin dress she wore whirling around her in a blur, before heading in the next direction.
It didn't matter that I knew it was a performance, that she was as willing a participant to the events that I was, that the were-bear was following the choreography. My heart was flying in my chest, my hands fisting velvet over my lap, eyes refusing to blink.
I didn't even know what I was rooting for in the moment—the girl's escape or her capture.
The chase lasted, the monster nearly catching her at one point and tearing the skirt of her dress up to her hip so a pale leg flashed as she ran. They were on opposite sides of the stage, and for a moment, I mourned her victory as it looked as though she were about to make her exit. She dashed behind the curtain, and then a bright scream sounded, and a second roar off stage.
The audience let out a wild cheer in unison as a second were-bear appeared, the girl tossed in a faint over its shoulder. A trap door in the center of the stage opened, smoke rising first, and then a dark shadow of a great stone plateau. The two beasts met there, spreading the woman out on its surface. Their hands circled her limbs, stretching them and fastening them into iron shackles at four corners. She tossed her head back and forth, lost in a drowse, as the were-bears circled her.
"Mon coeur," Auguste murmured, stroking a hand down my bare arm and making me shiver.
"What will they do?" I whispered.
"What would you like them to?" he answered lowly, lips curved in a smile.
If it were me?I stared at their bodies, massive and animal and strange, and at their cocks—which were thick but probably not quite as much as Mr. Tanner's. I opened my mouth to answer, 'everything,' but then the were-bears began to move, massive mouths opening as if they were about to devour her.
Which they did, in a sense.