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disappearing.
     
    “Right. So Miss Nailer isn’t here today. She’s got a touch of a stomach bug, so I’m taking over. We’ll keep this relatively short and sweet.” I looked out over the students as they gathered around the projector. “This is going to be the Act 1 finale for Phantom of the Opera, which, for those of you living under a rock, is the year end show. It’s Masquerade, and you’re at a grand ball. You’re all going to be in it, presumably, even if you are cast as a lead, so there’s no reason not to learn it. I’m going to play it for you twice and then we’ll start going over it.”
     
    I pressed play and let them watch, while I floated to the back of the class, trying to stop my fangs from twitching. One of the advantages of being immortal was that I didn’t have to take time to warm up and stretch. My muscles were always taut and ready to go.
     
    I quite liked the choreography actually. I was a big fan of theater, but also a fan of modernity, and Miss Nailer had incorporated hip-hop and dance moves into it. It might make a few old people uncomfortable in their seats, but theater wasn’t for rich old fogies anymore.
     
    Watching myself in the mirror, I moved through the steps that I remembered, my muscles snapping in perfect rhythm. Doing West End shows were some of the greatest memories I had of my career. When Amy had left to tour with Gatsby, I was almost jealous. It was a part of my life I would likely never have again, at least not for one hundred years, when everyone forgot my name and face. But she, she was just beginning, just starting to find out the real thrills of theater.
     
    Dancing too, reminded me of Porsche, and I stopped before the memories got too intense. My beautiful ballerina, who would have probably stepped in to sub this dance class herself, was gone, and I had to stop thinking about her. A Shield would be so useful on a grey overcast day like this.
     
    The class finished the video and clustered behind me, expecting me to lead them through the steps now. I could see Amy on my right side, her hair pulled up. She truly was the most stunning person in the room, her cheek bones angular and her eyes wide and full of emotions. I saw beautiful people on a regular basis, but the more I got to know Amy, the more I was attracted to her.
     
    “Are we ready? One , two, three, four…” I counted them off and then we began.
     
    For a group of non-dancers, they picked it up pretty fast. Mind you, it wasn’t complicated . It was meant to be taught to almost everybody. They ran into problems, however, during an eight step process when they had to partner up with each other and spin. After 3 failed attempts, I stopped them. Not wanting to play favorites, I called upon Sarah to join me at the front.
     
    “Pay attention, because this is all we have time for. It’s like this. One , two, three…” The second my hand connected with Sarah’s waist, I felt it again, the jolt that I had noticed in my office. A rush of calm washed over me, and I took a step back, shocked. What the hell was going on with this girl?
     
    “Liam?” Amy asked, taking a step forward.
     
    I shook myself. “Sorry, stumbled. Let’s try it again.”
     
    There was certainly something happening with Sarah, although I couldn’t figure out what it is. Perhaps the thoughts of that distracted me, because by the end of the class, despite the fact that darkness was drawing close, I felt better.
     
    I ended the class, congratulating them on their effort, and released them. I glanced at my watch. If I was right, I had about 20 minutes to get to the cellar. I could stay out another hour, technically, before anything got bad, but I didn’t want to take any chances.
     
    “You alright?” Amy asked me, as she walked me to the door.
     
    I nodded. “Sure. Just days like this are always bad. Will you be alright tonight?”
     
    She grabbed my hand as we walked the short distance down the hallway.
     
    “Yeah.