"Everyone out but the two of you," Mr. Reddy said, pointing to Jude and I.
"I'll wait for you. Upstairs or your dressing room?" Hunter offered.
"Upstairs," I said, and he nodded before he, Ronan, and Asterion passed by me on their way out.
"Detective, sit. Hazel, the door."
Jude's eyebrows were up, glancing at me in a need for what was probably reassurance.
"He's just a snarling old guard dog," I said in a false whisper.
I closed the door behind us and returned to stand at Jude's side, where he'd obediently settled into the chair.
"You don't look full fae," Mr. Reddy said to Jude.
"I'm not," Jude admitted, refusing to balk. I wondered how it had gone without me, when he'd been in the room with an orc, a minotaur, an imp, and a gegenees all in their own skins, undisguised.
Mr. Reddy glared up at me, and I nodded. "He knows about me. He found the theater weeks ago and has kept us a secret so far."
"You should've told me."
"You should've told me lots of things," I answered back, voice tart.
Mr. Reddy growled, but it was half-hearted. "Fine." His focus returned to Jude. "You expose us, you're exposed with us."
"I assumed as much," Jude said with another abrupt nod.
"I want to know everything you know," Mr. Reddy pressed.
"I've already reached out to the Jacob's Island precinct for details. I'll bring it all to you. My DI certainly isn't pursuing the case."
Mr. Reddy snorted and clapped his hands against his desk, bracing himself and pushing up from his chair. "That's it, then. I'd better go face the executioner."
"Fudge the news if you have to," I said, rolling my eyes. "Tell them you only found out today. Just tell them, Reddy."
He rounded the desk and approached me, and I squared my shoulders as I faced him.
He stopped in front of me and reached up, almost touching my throat while a frown carved lines over his face. But his hand settled on my cheek, patting gently and pulling away.
"There would've been hell to pay if we'd lost you, Hazel. And I know I'd have myself to blame," he said.
My chest panged at the words, and none of my own came to mind, even after Mr. Reddy had left the room.
"I learned new interrogation tactics from that man," Jude said from behind me.
I snorted. "I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier."
"Don't be. I'm glad to see you looking better."
My cheeks warmed, and my thoughts hissed, You can't encourage him. There's enough men circling you already.
"Did you have any trouble with him?"
"A bit at first, but your name helped, especially when I told him I'd spoken to you the night before. He was relieved you were safe," Jude said.
There was that pang again, with a bit of a twist. I opened the door of Mr. Reddy's office wider for us to leave and paused at the sight of Hunter and Myra standing at the bottom of the stairs. Myra's back was facing me, and the pair of them were too far to hear the words passed between them, but I frowned as Hunter handed Myra a bulky fold of paper. I'd seen him do something similar before and then quickly forgotten it, but this time it was sticking.
"What are the performances like?"
The words roused me and I glanced to Jude, eyebrows raising. "Here at the theater?"
His smile was small, slightly crooked. "Where else?"
"They're… You know what they are," I said, scoffing, trying to ignore the rise of heat in my cheeks.
"I have an idea of them. Perhaps I should see one for myself," he said, staring at me.
There'd never been anyone in my life who'd known me from outside of the theater and then walked into a performance. The idea of Jude, who knew the singular secret I possessed, seeing me on stage, made me feel edgy and vulnerable.
"It's your world now too," I said. I offered him a tenuous smile. "But our seats sell out fast most nights."
"Hazel, lovey," Myra cried out, a perfect excuse to escape the squirming nerves of the conversation with Jude.
He followed me out of the office but passed me as Myra hurried over, gathering me up in a tight hug. Myra was petite, but her hugs always seemed to consume me, and I accepted this one gratefully, searching over her head for Hunter. He was missing from the hall, probably upstairs waiting for me in the audience, and it was on the tip of my tongue to ask Myra about their exchange, but she rattled in my ear.
"I've been sick with worry. I knew something like this would happen. I told Reddy. I never liked that horrid little man. He's been sniffing around the company for ages, and he's got the look of a rabid bloodhound. And then for him to send us that Gemini, as if it were a gift, and—"
"Wait, Myra, what? The Gemini? Constantine?" I asked, even though I knew there wasn't another. "Constantine came from Birsha?"
"On loan," Myra whispered, face fierce with distaste, lips twisted.
"Loan a demon?" My eyes searched over Myra's head for a glimpse of Constantine, but he'd been heading up the stairs. Had he left, or was he hiding in the shadows again?
"And I told Reddy not to accept. He thought it would keep Birsha out of our hair, but obviously that isn't the case at all. For all we know, it was the Gemini who—"
"No," I said. Myra blinked at me, and I realized how sharply I'd spoken. I shook my head. "No, it wasn't Constantine. I—He was upset when he saw me. He really is kind, Myra. In a way."
"Ah, well," Myra said slowly, clearly unconvinced.