Wicked After Midnight(57)

“Thank you, Blaise.”

But the boy didn’t budge. I spun to raise my eyebrows at him in inquiry.

“The duke was much impressed to learn that you were unspoiled, mademoiselle. It’s said that you’ll make your fortune in one night, should you choose to do so. The gentlemen have already begun to bid.”

The door shut softly, and Vale erupted, tossing me over. “You’re a virgin?” he hissed.

I blushed hot. “No. But I would’ve told the duke anything to keep him away. That’s just what slipped out.”

He licked his lips, rubbed his jaw. “Probably just made them hungrier for you. That will be a tough lie to hide one day, bébé.”

“Then we’ll have to find Cherie soon, won’t we? Before anyone has to find out.”

“I’ll do my best. I am doing my best.” He fell back on the bed as if suddenly realizing that I still straddled him and he wished to enjoy the view. Elbows out and feet crossed on the ground, he grinned. “Lying to the duke. Such spirit, bébé.”

“He also thinks I’m eighteen.” Feeling his interest coalesce beneath me and knowing we couldn’t take it further just now, I slipped off his body and stood beside the bed, rearranging my costume in the mirror. “And tonight I meet Lenoir.”

Vale bolted up again, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Demi, no—”

I spun on him, staring daggers. “No?”

“No. . . torious. He’s notorious, bébé. A Lothario. Paints all the stars of the cabaret.”

“And that’s bad?” Hands on hips, I waited for him to choose his words. “That’s not what I want?”

“Bébé, do you know what happened to Jane Avril? Nini?”

“I’ve seen their paintings . . .” By Toulouse Lautrec, in my world. But still.

He stood to pace the room. “But where are they now? Not running their own cabarets. Not touring Sangland. They rose to the top, Lenoir painted them and everyone assumes slept with them, and then . . . nothing.”

“Good! That’s what I want! That’s how I’m going to find Cherie.”

“And you’re not frightened? Of disappearing?”

I shook my head. “No. Because I’m expecting it. If the same people who took Cherie are taking the cabaret girls, and if the girls Lenoir paints disappear, then it seems like the fastest way to get where I’m going is to get painted by Lenoir and disappear.”

“You’re insane, bébé. Suicidal.”

“I’m a Bludman, Vale. And he’s just a painter.”

“A painter with a reputation.”

I laughed brightly. “Then I don’t need to worry, do I? Because I’m not going to sleep with him, and if he tries anything, I’ll drain him. He’ll paint my portrait, and I’ll get even more famous. And considering he’s painted some of the girls who’ve disappeared, maybe I’ll smell Cherie.”

Vale shook his head. “You’re buying trouble, bébé.”

I tossed my hair. “Wrong. Trouble is buying me.”

Another knock at my door startled us both.

“Your costume, La Demitasse,” Blue called. She snickered. “But I can wait a moment if you’re busy.”

Vale kissed me, hard and quick, and I stopped breathing. “Just promise me one thing, bébé.”

“Maybe.”

He cupped my face, ran a thumb across my lips. “Don’t trust him. Don’t trust anyone.”

And then he was gone, leaving me hungry for more than his words. I waited until he’d slipped out the window before opening the door for Blue.

“Windy day.” She held out an armful of silvery fabric. “But the wind is wise, don’t you think?”

“Full of hot air,” was my only answer.

He meant well, but I hadn’t left Criminy’s nest just to be bossed around by another man.

I would meet Lenoir and decide for myself.

Tonight.





15


The show was flawless, of course. I’d long ago ceased to doubt myself or my abilities, thanks to the natural grace and confidence of a predator. As Auguste ushered me back to the elephant, I smoothed my hair and patted the sweat on my forehead. I could still feel the heat of the stage lights and the hot press of hundreds of drunk, lust-filled bodies. The men in the audience were so rabid for me that Charline had rearranged the finale so that all the other girls formed a tight, interlocking line of high kicks that no one dared to breach. That’s right—in Sang, the first true can-can line was invented just to shield me from my admirers.

At the elephant’s leg, Auguste paused and fussed with me for a moment, setting my hat at an angle and pinching my cheeks, although I didn’t know how he could see me in the darkness.