Derr_Megan_-_Dance_in_the_Dark Read online

  He looked up at the sound of the door opening, smiling warmly. "Jesse, I didn't think—Johnnie?" Papers tumbled and spilled everywhere as he hastily stood up. Rostislav grinned. "I guess I'd better get dressed."

  Johnnie smirked. "You are not offending me, Cinderella."

  Rostislav rolled his eyes, then went to get dressed.

  Jesse bent to retrieve and tidy up the fallen books and papers, asking over his shoulder, "Can I get either of you some refreshment?" He stacked everything neatly on the coffee table, then stood and looked at Bergrin. "So you are the Enforcer bodyguard I have heard so much about."

  Bergrin nodded, but said nothing.

  "So, refreshment?" Jesse asked. "You can set your coats and all there."

  "I am fine, thank you," Johnnie said, and removed his hat and coat, giving them and his cane over to Bergrin.

  Rostislav reemerged from the bedroom, dressed in dark denim jeans and a cream sweater. "So what brings you here, Johnnie?"

  "It is Elam," Johnnie said, sitting down in a leather chair opposite the couch, Bergrin taking the seat next to him. "He has been cursed." Settling more comfortably in the chair, he explained everything.

  Rostislav looked furious as he finished. "Someone should lose his head for that. It is one thing for me to 'cast' a love spell on myself—but to ruin so many lives like that—it is sheer dumb luck that Elam had a lover, because otherwise …"

  Johnnie nodded, not bothering to speak. If not for Rita, his brother would likely have lived the rest of his life under the love spell. Hopefully, because he loved Rita, it could be broken.

  "I think you are correct," Rostislav continued, "in thinking that it is two spells. Though, normally the love spell is more than enough. The forgetting curse almost seems like overkill, unless they had reason to put such an extreme safety measure in place. Do you think they knew about Rita?"

  At that, Johnnie laughed. "No, I do not. If my father did not know about her, I sincerely doubt anyone else did. No, I think whoever did it, wanted to drag Ellie away from the only thing that he would have obsessed over, love spell or not."

  Jesse laughed. "I do admit I am impressed there is anything that could drag Elam away from his precious piano. But, his obsession has always paid off—he is masterful. I miss his performances here." He looked briefly sad, but in the next moment, it was gone. "So what do you plan to do?"

  "We need to confirm the curses and determine why they have gone unnoticed."

  Rostiya folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the couch, legs stretched out in front of him, just barely pressed shoulder to shoulder with Jesse. "That's probably an easy one. Did anyone give him a betrothal gift, say, a piece of jewelry? I would hazard it has a very strong, very obvious, completely harmless spell on it, which covers up the two curses also set in it. The moment he put that on, it was over."

  "I do not know," Johnnie said, "but I will definitely look into it."

  Jesse spoke up, "I know we were not invited, for obvious reasons, but would it help if Rostiya went anyway?"

  "No," Rostiya and Johnnie said together, then Johnnie continued, "Rostiya has a well-known reputation as a curse-breaker. If he were to suddenly show at the ball, despite his exiled status, it would immediately tip off whoever cast the curses. It will be safer if we continue to play ignorant. Hopefully seeing Rita throughout the night will do the breaking."

  "Who knew Ellie had a secret lover?" Rostislav said. "Or enough spine to carry on a secret affair." He tilted his head and looked at Johnnie hesitantly. "I—I'm surprised you're not more upset."

  Johnnie shrugged irritably, not wanting to discuss why he was suddenly uninterested in someone he had claimed to love for almost twenty years. Not when that reason had just politely turned down the offer to spend a carefree day with him. "I want whoever is doing this to stop hurting my family. But he will suffer for it plenty when my father learns his identify." He sighed. "I just wonder at the motive—there is no good reason to go to such extremes."

  "Who knows," Rostislav said. "I have learned never to underestimate why people do anything."

  "It could simply be precaution," Jesse suggested. "If it is not Ekaterina who did it, then it could be her parents. It is not at all unusual for vampires to take lovers, and she could have been reluctant to give hers up. Perhaps she is the true target of all of this. I have never heard much about her, which could be a good thing or a bad thing."

  Bergrin stirred in his seat, speaking for the first time in a while. "So why not make her the victim of the spells? It wouldn't make sense to place the curses on Elam, if she is the true target."

  "More believable that way," Johnnie said slowly, thinking it through. "She could have been against the marriage the entire time, for one reason or another. Hers is a good family, but not as prestigious as my father's, or several others around. So she may have had a lover, or simply no interest in marriage. Unusual, but not unheard of. But what person would not immediately soften and change her mind when she finds herself the object of complete focus from someone like Elam—to the point he gives up even his precious piano. Yes, I rather like it for a working theory. Thank you, Jesse."

  "Always a pleasure to help our local PI," Jesse said teasingly, though he looked distinctly pleased.

  Rostislav smiled. "So what are you going to do until the ball?"

  "Pick up my new tuxedo and a betrothal gift," Johnnie said.

  Bergrin groaned. "I hope by 'pick up' you mean we go in, get it, and leave. If we spend more than ten minutes in that place, I'm going to kill you myself, Highness."

  Johnnie glared, and just to needle him, gave a dismissive shrug and said, "I do not know. I would be more comfortable with one last fitting."

  "I swear to god you spend more time and money on clothes than every woman I've ever met, combined."

  Johnnie sneered at him, goading, "Because your method of spending ten minutes a week on clothes works so well." The damned thing was that it did work well for Bergrin, the silly baseball cap aside. But Johnnie would never admit it, especially now, after being so firmly, if gently, turned down flat.

  "Your threads only work for you because I scare off all the lowlifes that contemplate mugging you every time you walk down the street, Prince."

  Scoffing at that, Johnnie retorted, "They probably feel sorry for you in your silly hat."

  "Stop making fun of the hat my mom gave me," Bergrin said hotly.

  Johnnie pretended to think about it, then said, "No."

  Bergrin just looked at him in disgust.

  Rostislav burst out laughing. "So do the two of you always bicker like children?"

  "No," Johnnie said, affronted. "We most certainly do not bicker like children, and we do not always bicker."

  "You can't tell because you're always childish," Bergrin said to Johnnie, smirking.

  Johnnie rolled his eyes and did not deign to reply to that.

  Rostislav laughed again, Jesse chuckling next to him. "I see."

  "You see what?" Johnnie asked.

  "Nothing," Rostislav said with a smirk. "If I can be of further use to you, Johnnie, by all means give me a call."

  "I will," Johnnie said, eying him, wondering what he was missing that made Rostislav smirk like that. "Thank you for the help you have provided, both of you."

  "Our pleasure," Jesse replied. "It is nice to see friends, whatever the reason."

  Johnnie stood. "Once this mystery is solved, and my idiot brother is set to marry his true bride, he will owe me a favor—a big one. I will see to it that you are invited to that betrothal ball, as well as the wedding."

  "It is too bad he would never consider having the ball here," Jesse said, and though he tried to hide it, he could not completely keep all the wistfulness from his voice.

  Rostislav grinned. "No worries, love. Once Johnnie has cause for such celebration, he'll have his ball here."

  Casting him a withering look, Johnnie said, "As you command." Him, a betrothal ball. Ha. Johnnie did not th
ink a more ridiculous idea existed.

  Bergrin stood and fetched their coats, holding Johnnie's so that he could shrug into the long, heavy, wool trench coat. Bergrin settled his cap on his head as Johnnie slid his fedora into place.

  "Farewell for now," Johnnie said, as Bergrin took hold of his arm.

  Then they vanished.

  *~*~*

  "You look beautiful, my dear," Johnnie said. "Even more so than usual."

  Rita flushed, but smiled and lifted her chin. "I don't think I can hold a candle to you, Johnnie."

  Johnnie scoffed at that, and finished pinning a deep red rosebud to the lapel of his tuxedo. Comments about his beauty were more vexing than ever, now that he knew his beauty was supernatural in origin. He did not know what to think. Better vampire Jester had called him.

  Funny the pixie had known all along, and if Johnnie had paid any real attention …

  But even then, who knew? It would not have made sense to him, not then. Detractors often referred to vampires as watered down incubi, half as pretty and too independent to do better than blood for sustenance. It was only because he was in the mortal plane, and not the dream plane, that he did not have full incubus powers.

  He could not even imagine how different his life might have been if he had grown up half-incubus.

  Johnnie turned toward the door as it opened, watching as Bergrin slipped inside, closing the door again behind him. Only barely did Johnnie remember to return Bergrin's polite nod of greeting, and he nearly dropped the corsage he held ready to affix to Rita's gown.

  Bergrin was not wearing a tuxedo, but he had taken care to be a bit more dressed up than usual. He looked damned good. He wore black jeans, of such quality they almost could have passed for slacks, except that slacks never hugged quite that well—and they definitely clung in ways that Bergrin's old jeans normally did not. He wore a soft-looking black sweater as well, and boots that held a polished shine. His curls had even been tamed, falling in a pretty tumble that made Johnnie want to sink his hands into them and muss them thoroughly while he kissed Bergrin senseless.

  Jerking his gaze away before he was caught staring like a half-wit, he focused on pinning a spray of gold rosebuds to Rita's gown. The bright, rich yellow complemented the sapphire blue gown perfectly, drawing out her rich, dark brown curls, the diamonds and pearls and sapphires at her throat, her wrists. She was many times more beautiful than even Ekaterina, and Johnnie did not doubt that if they had known of Rita, Ekaterina's family would have cast a curse. "My idiotic brother will return to his senses before the night is out, mark my words."

  Rita smiled, though it was a bit unsteady. "I hope so. Thank you for believing me—for helping me, Johnnie. You and all the others. Especially your father; he certainly would have been fully within his rights to send me away."

  "Nonsense," Johnnie said. "Ellie gave you Sariah's ring—my father could never turn you away, not after seeing that."

  Bergrin stirred where he was leaning against the wall. "I'm surprised your father never asked about the ring. Surely it would have been a problem that Elam never produced it."

  Johnnie shook his head. "My father would never ask, not about that. It is Ellie's ring, to give or not give, as he so chooses. Marriages are often a matter of business, but vampires do try to make love matches, or matches they think could turn to love, eventually. The ring is a love token—my father did not give it to his wife until he loved her, and that was a few years after they were married."

  "But wouldn't Elam have tried to produce it, when he fell in 'love' with Ekaterina?" Bergrin asked.

  Again, Johnnie shook his head. "He had already given the ring to Rita, whom he truly loves. When the forgetting curse was cast, he probably forgot about the ring since it was irrevocably twisted up with his memories and feelings for Rita."

  Rita smiled faintly, looking at her finger where the ring sparkled. "Should I remove it?" She asked reluctantly. "Would it cause trouble?"

  "It is a private family tradition," Johnnie said. "No one else would know about it, and seeing it on your finger might fray the curse that much faster. Leave it where it belongs."

  There was a knock at the door, stalling conversation, and then it opened to reveal Ontoniel—followed by Phil and a vampire Johnnie had seen on only two previous occasions. His hair still fell all the way down his back, a beautiful cascade of blue-black. "Phil," Johnnie greeted, then turned to the vampire. "Zachariah, is it not?"

  "Yes," Zachariah said with a smile. "Zach, please. You are becoming quite the investigator, I hear."

  Johnnie shrugged. "I like mysteries, and solving them."

  Phil laughed. "Your father invited me, and as Chris and Doug are away on a case, leaving Zach all alone, I brought him along as my date. Whatever help we can provide, just say. I told Zach what was going on, after I got your father's permission. We can definitely work the crowds for information, keep a covert eye on things, since I am certain you will have your hands plenty full."

  "The help is most appreciated," Johnnie said.

  "Our pleasure," Zach said, pushing back strands of his hair.

  Johnnie turned back to Phil. "Where is Jester?"

  "He was still wrung out from a case we wrapped up the day before yesterday, and crowds like this can fluster him, so I just left him at home," Phil said with a smile. "He is probably passed out in front of the TV like every other man I know would be."

  Johnnie laughed. "I see."

  "That pixie is spoiled rotten," Zach said teasingly.

  "No more spoiled than your imp," Phil retorted.

  "Yeah, but the imp gives me sex. Pixies just take up space." He winked, then cocked his head, listening. "I believe I hear the music starting up, shall we to the ballroom?"

  "Of course," Ontoniel said, and offered his arm to Rita. Phil hooked arms with Zach, and Johnnie offered a teasing smirk to Bergrin as they followed along behind the others. "I should have ordered you to wear a dress."

  Bergrin snorted. "I think you would be in the dress, Highness."

  "Definitely not," Johnnie said, then turned more serious. "Do you expect a lot of trouble tonight?"

  Bergrin laughed. "I always expect trouble. Where the rich and powerful are concerned, I expect double the trouble. Where you are concerned? I expect trouble in quadruple amounts."

  Johnnie bristled. "I do not cause you that many problems."

  "You make everything difficult, Johnnie," Bergrin said, so quietly that Johnnie only just barely heard him.

  Before he could ask what that meant, however, they were in the ballroom and amidst the throngs of guests—hundreds of them, filling the grand ballroom that occupied the greater portion of the north wing of the house. Johnnie fell immediately into the role of host alongside his father, smoothly dealing with all manner of abnormal guests, though he tried to keep a watchful eye on Elam, Rita, and Ekaterina and her parents.

  It was exhausting work—welcome toasts, betrothal toasts, speeches, mingling, dancing briefly here and there with people he had no interest in even speaking with, food and drinks and music to keep watch on.

  But after a little over two hours of work, Johnnie was able to slip away to a discreet corner mostly shielded by lush plants, and take a break. Leaning against the wall, he watched the dance floor.

  Bergrin appeared at his side, until then having tucked himself discreetly out of the way, to watch Johnnie as well as those under suspicion. The entire time, Johnnie had not once seen him—but he had never stopped feeling Bergrin's eyes.

  "See anything interesting?" he asked.

  "Your brother definitely keeps looking at Rita, in a 'where have I seen you before' sort of way. Ekaterina seems impatient with him, when she is confident no one else is paying them any mind. He is ever attentive of her, but Ekaterina certainly does not return the gestures or the sentiments behind them. Not unless they're being watched."

  Johnnie glanced toward Ekaterina, who stood with one hand in the crook of Elam's arm. They were standing together, s
miling and chatting with the people around them, occasionally looking at each other and smiling fondly.

  But Johnnie knew his brother, and he knew the man across the room was his brother in full 'I would rather be anywhere else' social obligation mode. From time to time, just as Bergrin said, he glanced away from the crowd. Each time, his gaze fell, faintly puzzled, on Rita, or on the baby grand piano on the far side of the room.

  Johnnie really could not wait to harass Prim and Proper Elam about all of this later, when it was finally over.