I opened my mouth to agree, but it struck me suddenly—it was a lie. Ronan had woken me up in Constantine's room. After two, he'd said, and I only had his word to be sure of the time. I'd been asleep for at least two hours after the show ended and I—
I swallowed hard, choking on absurd suspicions now racing through my head. Ronan was jealous, he picked fights, but he was gentle too and took a girl's no without argument. He would never have hurt Margaret or Beth. Hunter tipped his head, pressing a soft kiss to my lips.
"Be safe. I'll return for your next performance," Hunter said. His eyes flicked over mine and his hand grasped my chin as he glared sternly down at me. "We will have our time together again."
I sighed and softened against him, shy about what a relief it was for him to say the words. I'd always considered patrons an amusing chore for the theater, or an amusing project of Myra's when she was set to make a match between monster and human. I'd never considered my own exit from the stage until recently, but Hunter was a tempting prospect. Still full of questions, but with a curious promise of a future I wanted to at least explore.
"You can't even stay the night?" I asked, wincing.
Hunter smiled ruefully and shook his head. "I'm meeting with a few friends to discuss the murders, see if anyone can dig for information."
I blinked at that and nodded. "Well, I can't argue with that. Thank you for helping."
Hunter's lips parted and then closed again, pressing firmly together, clearly fighting some speech he was considering. He settled instead on leaning in for another kiss, a slow study of skimming lips and subtle nibbles, soothing some of the ragged edges of stress and worry squatting in my chest.
"Sleep tonight, little one," Hunter murmured, the hand on my chin sliding up my jaw, his thumb brushing under one eye and over my cheekbone. "Your heart may remain weary for some time, but that doesn't mean your body should."
I found myself blushing, leaning into the hand on my cheek, embarrassed and touched by the words. Hunter kissed the center of my forehead, his tusks pressing gently to my skin, and then pulled away, nodding in satisfaction at me once before leaving the room.
Ronan reappeared not long after the orc departed, and I puzzled over my momentary suspicion. What reason would Ronan ever have to hurt one of the other girls, and how could I have considered the idea, even briefly? His smile was pasted on, his own worry and sadness clear in the wincing lines around his eyes.
"Back to the loft?" he asked.
I nodded, accepting his offered hand and following him back up the stairs to the darkened stage. With every step, I played the minutes and hours back in my mind. The night of Beth's murder, when Hunter had walked me home through the park. Last night, asleep after the performance, Ronan waking me.
I felt safe in this theater with my fellow actors and performers, with Hunter, even with Constantine. But as Ronan and I settled into the still tangled sheets of his bed, the moon smothered in clouds and the loft dark and quiet with faint rustling from the rafters, the truth was unavoidable.
I could be truly sure of no one but myself.
* * *
"What do you mean,'no memorial act'?" Evie snapped, rising up from her seat, glaring at Mr. Reddy in his own chair.
"Why shouldn't Margaret have one? Beth did!" Goliath barked from the stairs near the wing door.
"We're not repeating the act!" Mr. Reddy answered, sharp and firm.
"He's an ass. Why isn't Myra saying anything?" Alexa whispered in my ear, leaning forward from the row behind me.
And even though I knew I should bite my tongue, the words slipped free as I stared at the back of Myra's dark head. "They're afraid it will happen again," I answered under my breath. "One memorial is respectful, two is polite, but three and…"
I shrugged as Alexa let out a wounded gasp.
"No," Ronan said, shaking his head, his arm hanging over my shoulder. "Mr. Reddy just doesn't want the audience to know what's happening."
"Maybe they should know," Alexa muttered. "Maybe then something would be—"
"What are you lot hissing about?" Mr. Reddy barked, spinning suddenly to face us.
"Nothing, sir," I answered before Alexa or Ronan could say something that might get them fired. Or, more likely, lectured at for an hour, considering Mr. Reddy could hardly spare us now.
His eyes were a sharper green than ever, outlined in weary red, as they narrowed at me. Had he been crying like the rest of us? Or up all night, planning and plotting?
"Nix. You're taking the piano act."
"What?!"
I hadn't meant to shout, but I also didn't feel that there was a more appropriate response. I turned immediately to the organ, where Nireas was seated on the bench seat, back arms bracing him against the shuttered instrument, another pair gripping the bench, the last folded across his chest. His eyes were down, staring at his stretched legs.
"You know the act, easiest one in the show," Mr. Reddy said. "It's yours this week."
The act was simple, and Mr. Reddy only talked Nireas into doing it twice a year or so. A girl sat up above the keys, Nireas licking her along to the music he played below, the moans and sighs perfectly timed to the notes, right to the gasping, giggling, singing cries of climax. I did know it, but only because I'd been in the company for so long. I'd never once done the part myself, and I'd assumed it had been at Nireas's insistence.
Mr. Reddy turned away when I couldn't think of anything else to say, doling out roles to the rest of the cast, assigning familiar favorite scenes.
"He's avoiding looking back at you," Ronan whispered in my ear. "I bet he requested you."
I scowled, staring so hard at Nireas it made my head hurt, but Ronan was right—the giant never looked back.
"It's more about following the music and making a show of it," Alexa said, propping her elbow on the back of the chair next to me. "To be honest, he's never seemed all that interested. Barely puts much effort in. You'll have an easy time of it."
Why now?I wanted to scream, to march up and shake Nireas's broad shoulders, thump my fist down on his dark hair and yank. Punish him for confusing me eight years ago and again now.
It was just a kiss then, and an act in the show now. I was the one making more out of nothing.
And maybe it wasn't Nireas's request. Maybe Mr. Reddy was simply…running out of girls. I sank back into my seat, breathing out slowly.
"Tell him no, if you want," Ronan suggested.