Chapter 4
During rehearsals, Sonya felt his presence. She knew he was there even though she couldn’t see him. That’s the way he liked to play. That’s the way he controlled people without them even realizing it. The question of whether he there in the darkness watching them or not; it left people on edge.
Three days went by and Sonya had learned nothing about Rhonda and her connection to Zwick. And though she’d continued to go to the bar every evening, she didn’t see the bat creature again nor the man Rhonda had been talking with that night she was killed.
It would be too easy to assume it’d been a random attack.
She could just shrug it off and say that it was exactly that.
But she knew better. The vampire bat that had taken Detective Rhonda had shifter powers, something she had yet to master, being only a vampire for about a decade.
She knew only very ancient vampires had the power to shift from human form into animal form like a bat.
Because there were very few ancient vampires known, almost rare, it made them more elusive.
Such a powerful vampire wouldn’t bother with such a random attack.
With such powers, he would have to be from the ancient world, a world where vampires tended to be more selective, more cautious.
They weren’t opportunity feeders. They chose their prey well; someone who wouldn’t necessarily be missed.
To attack a detective; that was about the worst victim a vampire wishing to remain elusive could choose.
Why? The question ran circles in her mind. Why a detective? Why that detective?
Either this vampire knew and targeted Baker for a specific reason, or a juvenile vampire, new to the ways of this world, had fumbled... badly.
Either way, she didn’t like it. Her own feeding habits were well thought out. She was methodical and disciplined. Her usual prey were criminals, hardened and impossible to rehabilitate. But this new vampire, albeit an ancient one, in town...
It could only spell trouble.
Heading to the studio for another day of rehearsals, she was determined to see Zwick. She had to get answers.
“We’re going to run through the party scene,” Betty called out. “I want Eddie and Connie, our king and queen, here. Sonya, Yolanda here and here.”
The four cast members took their places, and Sonya forced Rhonda and Zwick from her mind.
She and Yolanda sang lines back and forth at one another with amusement and joy while the king and queen danced.
“Stop. Stop, stop, stop,” Betty said. “Eddie. My dear Eddie. What are you doing?”
“What?” he muttered.
“You’re holding Connie as if she were a bag of dirty linen. She is your queen. And your footwork; I thought you told us that you’d taken dance lessons before.”
“I did.”
Betty grimaced. “It’s a simple one, two, three melody. Please. Let’s start again.”
As they ran through the scene once more, the hair at the back of Sonya’s neck bristled. He’d just arrived. She sensed it. She knew it. As she sang, her mind raced to find an excuse to talk to him.
“Stop. Eddie, we need to talk,” Betty said.
“Miss,” Connie called out. “If I may.”
“Yes?”
“Would it helped if I led? I do have formal training. Like you said, it’s a simple one, two, three melody. I can guide him through it.”
Betty paused. “Sure. Why not. Let’s give it a try.”
They ran the scene again and again. Despite Connie’s attempt to lead Eddie, he fumbled through the scene. Then it was Yolanda’s turn to squeak through the song and forget some of the lyrics.
After five run-throughs, Sonya silently hoped for a break.
“That’s enough for this afternoon,” the director said with a firm clap of her hands.
“Eddie and Connie, I know your feet must be hurting, but you have to keep it lively. This isn’t your grandparents dancing at your wedding.
This is a festive and lively waltz. I’m not asking you to go all in on a Viennese Waltz.
I just want you two to keep with the pace. ”
The dancing pair nodded.
“Golly,” Betty muttered to herself as she turned away from them. “Are we going to have to hire a choreographer for this simple dance scene?”
Sonya started down the stage steps.
“And Sonya,” Betty called out.
Surprised to be pointed out, she turned to the director.
“Good job.”
“Thank you.”
“But you seem a little distracted.”
Shoot. “Sorry about that.”
“I’d like to see a little more presence of mind tomorrow, okay?”
“Yes. Of course.”
She left the stage, a little shaken, but more determined than ever to talk to Zwick. As she walked through the corridor leading to the exit, she thought of her beloved mentor, Sifu.
The older woman, the one who had taken her from Empress to theatrical singer, a kind old woman who had turned her, saved her at the last minute when she had been thrown out of her prison cell and into a ditch left for dead, had told her of the issues set to hit the western coast of the United States.
Sifu had warned of the guerilla activity that would very much resemble what had happened to her home country.
Was this country now set to suffer the same fate? The thought sent chills up the back of her neck. She reached for her throat, gently running her hands over her skin, trying to soothe the growing dread. She couldn’t let it happen again.
Questions about Zwick, Rhonda and the vampire jumped at her repeatedly, unanswered and frustrating.
“Excuse me, Miss. Got a minute?”
The deep male voice stopped her cold. Although she barely knew the man, she knew that voice. She turned to him. His large silhouette blocked out the light coming from behind him and left his face in the shadows.
“I know a talented woman like you must be very busy, but...”
Beyond recognizing his voice and that unmistakable silhouette, her vampire vision confirmed what she already knew.
“Mr. Zwick,” she said in her most formal tone. “What can I do for you, sir?”
He chuckled from deep in his belly as he came toward her. “No need to be so formal. Call me Karl.”
Formality was a manner of keeping one at arm’s length. It was a way of showing one respect, but it could also indicate a lack of familiarity. We’re not friends, her manner silently said.
“You seem to be doing quite well in these rehearsals,” he said after a prolonged silence.
“Thank you, sir. I’m doing my best.”
“You have the voice of an angel, the face of a goddess and the body of a...”
“I’m working very hard,” she cut in, uncomfortable under his praise.
“Yes. I can see that.” He looked at her, his eyes appraising her, his lips set in a straight, serious line. “In fact, I am so impressed with your talent and your work ethic that I am beginning to seriously consider you for a role in my next film.”
“I wasn’t aware that you were already working on a new project.”
“Oh, honey,” he said with a deep throaty laugh. “I’m always working on a new project. Look, why don’t you drop by later tonight and we’ll talk all about it.”
“Oh. Well... I was just about to go to the bar across the way to grab a bite...”
“Bar food? For a princess like you? No. No. I can’t have the star of my show eating at some cheesy bar. No. You’re a star, my dear. You deserve a fine gourmet meal, good wine and pleasant company, if I do say so myself.”
“You’re very kind,” she said, though it was far from what she felt.
He pulled out a business card and handed it to her. “Here. Come to my office, shall we say... seven o’clock.”
This was the opportunity she’d been waiting for.
It would be the perfect time to bring up Rhonda Baker.
Then again, the thought of being alone with him in his office gave her the creeps.
Despite his expensive suit, expensive haircut, expensive shoes, and no doubt an expensive meal in mind, there was something cheap and lowly about him.
As if the money he displayed hid something shameful.
“I’ll be there,” she said, forcing a pleasant smile.
*****
HOW DID ONE DRESS FOR a dinner with a Hollywood mogul who wanted to cast her in his next project? If she’d had any idea at all of the type of role he had in mind for her, perhaps she could have dressed the part.
Then again, did he really have a project in mind for her, or was it all just a ruse to get her alone in his office? The thought chilled her, not out of fear, but of disdain.
Wearing comfortable underpants, nylons held up with a simple garter and a form fitting bra, she stood in front of her closet, flicking aside one dress after another.
While she wanted to be appealing, she didn’t want her attire to give him any ideas.
Nothing low cut. Nothing slit up the thigh.
No. This was a business meeting, and she would dress for such.
She came to a long sleeved, blue dress that complimented her figure without giving too much away.
“Perfect.”
She pinned her hair up, slipped into comfortable pumps and headed out.
The closer she got to his office the more confident she grew.
She formulated the questions she would ask, her manner of bringing up Rhonda and of his relationship with her.
Perhaps she would even mention seeing him with Rhonda at that bungalow.
She reached his door and knocked lightly. Looking down at her dress she wondered if they would dine in his office or go to a fine restaurant. Either way, she felt aptly dressed.
No one called for her to enter, nor did they open the door. She knocked again, a little more firmly. Still no response. She pulled out the business card and checked the address. She was in the right place. She glanced at her watch; two minutes early.
Gingerly setting her hand on the doorknob, she gave it a little twist. It was unlocked.
“Mr. Zwick, I...” she said on opening the door and entering. But the sight that greeted her had her choking on her words.
Yolanda Lee, her ‘little sister’ sat on Zwick’s lap, laughing as she kissed his face and ran her fingers through his hair.
“So sorry,” Sonya muttered as she quickly backed out of the office and closed the door.
Leaning back against the wall, she let out a perturbed breath. Yolanda? With Zwick? No. How could that be?
She closed her eyes, seeing the image of Yolanda on Zwick’s lap, her lips all over his face.
She felt sick.
Had Zwick already replaced Rhonda Baker?