Before he slighted my mother.
Before he made her into a monster.
Poppet is dead-on. Nothing the girls do in Madam Karina's Home for Burgeoning Entertainers can rival the blood on my hands.
Chapter Thirty
Inferno
Ruby reappears in the doorway; the grin on her face is a carefully wrapped gift. "Ready to work, ladies?"
Poppet gathers the length of her dress and follows after Ruby. We're halfway down the hall when she turns and speaks in a low voice. "It's not that I want you to leave," she says. "It's just that I've decided on this place. For however long the madam wants my help, I'm going to give it."
I'm touched by her loyalty, and who am I to say it's misplaced? So I smile and walk beside her in silence. Twenty paces ahead is a full night's work, and though my mind ticks with unanswered questions about this place, one thing is certain-the Daisy's entertainment room isn't like the Carnation's room.
Already, I can hear the psychedelic music and the girls speaking in hushed tones. My pulse races as we grow closer, and my scalp tingles with anxiety. The Carnations' room was simply called the entertainment room, maybe the E-room if we were feeling lazy. But the Daisies arena is different, and appropriately named "The Inferno."
Wilson sits up straighter as we pass by the coin boxes and step inside. And though he's been submissive after my attack on Mercy, he shakes his head and says, The Inferno? Really? Oh, yeah, now I feel better.
Stop talking, I respond. And go away.
He doesn't go away.
And as I move farther into the room, I'm glad for it.
Red starbursts hang from invisible threads throughout the room. The carpet is black, the walls, black, the couches and bar and even the digital placement board-black. Cutouts of crows and ravens mingle with the red starbursts, and the girls weave through them like phantoms, their bodies splashed with white polka dots from a disco ball. Incense is burned in crystal holders shaped like elephant trunks. It smells like human hair caught ablaze, with a hint of sage thrown in for good measure.
A girl with a fiery braid faces away from me, but I see the way her head falls back, how another girl dangles a white pill above her open mouth like one would a tuft of bread above a koi pond. The pill freefalls, and both girls giggle. Soon, they are hugging and rubbing each other's arms in ecstasy. Ruby leans her head in my direction. "Last time I'll ask. Sure you don't want to try one? You will sooner or later."
I shake my head. Drugs aren't my thing, though every time she offers, I can't help wondering if they could help me silence Wilson for good.
Would you really want that? Because without me …
Ruby places a pill on her tongue and swallows. "Dinner of champions." When I offer a shy smile, she bumps my shoulder. "Come on, Domino. You should try laughing once in a while. You don't have to worry anymore. For most of us, this is where the train stops. We're serious when we say if you're a Daisy, you're family."
That word is like a bedside lamp in the dead of night. Eerie shadows, sudden creaks, footsteps falling lightly across your blackened room, all soothed with a little switch.
Family.
Poppet refuses the drugs, too, but isn't shy when mingling with the other girls. It takes longer than it did with the Carnations for Madam Karina to arrive with her black marker. I'm guessing she starts on the bottom floor and works her way up.
"Get in line, ladies," the madam says. "Hands out."
We do as she says. I get the number six written on my hand, and Poppet gets a five. She finished well last night, so I knew she'd be ahead of me. Still, we are close to the bottom. There are only seven girls, and my being number six doesn't fare well. We'll have to work our way up the chain. It's the only way to advance again. And I will advance. This is my plan now, and I'm committed. It's hard, though, because my sketchpad isn't as useful here as it was downstairs. Not when dancing is the dominant source of entertainment currency.
Madam Karina glides through the velvet-curtained doorway, and soon heavy boots fall upon the stairs. Mixed with the sound is the clicking of heels.
Our customers have arrived.
Poppet comes to stand by my side, and a silent understanding passes between us. She may not want to leave with me when I go, but it doesn't stop her from desiring a place among the Violets. It's what everyone wants inside Madam Karina's Home for Burgeoning Entertainers, even if they're too afraid to fight for the position.
Eight customers file into the room. They move toward a circular bar that's aglow in a red light. Champagne bottles and plastic glasses await their arrival. There are no silver coins in their pockets for booze. The champagne will do just fine. That's not what they came for, anyway. They came for Poppet and me. And for the other girls.