Necromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 6)

Wanting nothing more than to escape to someplace dark and private where she could lick her wounds, Alice forced herself to appear unaffected as she led Ivan from the room to the studio, his fingers gripping hers possessively. Once the door shut behind him and she stood alone in the hazy light of the corridor, she allowed her composure to slip. Her body started shaking. She let out a sob and fled deep into the secret passages, but she wasn’t completely alone, anywhere. Computer technicians passed her in the hallway, and décor artists carried material to the big construction hall where the set was being built.

With a trembling hand on the balustrade, she made her way up the staircase to the stage, managing to keep a straight face at least until she exited into the darkness of the side stage. She climbed up to the first level scaffolding, past the spotlights, and leaned on the rail of the narrow metal bridge. Right on top of the stage but way higher, the spotlight bridge was quiet and hidden from sight. The bridge was her safe cocoon away from the world. She’d first discovered the place as a child when she’d watched her mother rehearse in New York. It had become a dark corner in which to hide when her mother had broken things in the dressing room or when the curious stares of bystanders had gotten too much.

She rested her head on her arms, allowing silent tears to run over her cheeks and drip to the floor below. She’d allow herself the luxury of crying over Ivan, over what could’ve been, only this once. After this, she’d spare him no more tears.

The clanking of the metal floor made her quickly lift her head. A man stood a short distance away, his eyes wide with surprise.

She sniffed and wiped her face with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry.”

It took him a moment to find his voice. “No, I am. I didn’t expect…”

“To find someone here?”

She straightened and paid closer attention. He’d taken another step so that a portion of light fell over his face. His hair and eyes were dark. He wore formal black slacks and a white shirt. She judged him to be in his late forties. He wasn’t anyone she knew from the theater.

“I didn’t mean to intrude on your private moment. I just…”

She nodded in understanding. “Came here to be alone?”

“Are you all right?”

She gave a self-conscious laugh. “I’m feeling a bit sorry for myself, that’s all.”

He studied her with a frown, as if he couldn’t figure her out. When the silence stretched on, she suddenly understood. She was trespassing in his territory. Gutted that her secret hiding place had been discovered and therefore was no longer a secret, she turned to leave.

“Wait,” the man said.

She looked back at him.

“Please, stay.” He motioned next to him. “There’s enough space for two.”

She hesitated. Not being ready to face the staff at the marketing department, she took two steps back and stopped next to him. They both rested their elbows on the rail, peering down at the quiet stage.

“How long has this been your hideout?” he asked.

“Ever since I started working here. It will be eight years in December.”

“Eight years,” he mused. “I guess after eight years you have the right to stake your claim.”

She glanced sideways at him. “I haven’t seen you around before.”

“I was just…” He waved his hand at the stage below.

Then it clicked. He had to be the new décor manager. “Checking out the stage for the new set?”

He gave her a brilliant smile. “Exactly.”

“You must be Zachary Vane.” She held out her hand. “Nice to meet you Mr. Vane. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Alice Jones from publicity.”

“It will give me great pleasure if you call me Zach.” He looked at her proffered hand. “I’m afraid I can’t shake hands. I don’t want to get yours full of paint.”

She dropped her arm. “That’s very considerate.”

He gave her a conspiratorial wink. “Do you mind if I share your hideout? I promise not to get in the way.”

“Of course, not.” She smiled. “The theater doesn’t belong to me.”

“There is such a thing as personal boundaries. I can see this spot is special to you, and I don’t want to overstep my welcome when you’ve been here so long before me.”

“I’ll keep it a secret as long as you do.”

“If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s keeping secrets.”

They stood together for another few minutes in amiable silence. When Alice felt more like herself, again, she said, “I better go. Nice to meet you, Zach. Welcome to the theater.”

He tilted his head. “I do hope to run into you very soon, again.”

She gave a little wave and made her way back to the fourth floor offices to set up a meeting with their freelance photographer for the rehearsal publicity shoot.