Read Dancers in the Dark for Free Online Page B

her eagerness. Before his fangs sank in, she felt his tongue trace a line on her skin, and her arm involuntarily tightened around his neck. As the overwhelming peace flooded her anxious heart, Rue wondered if she was becoming addicted to Sean. “Hi, I’m Rue, and I’m a vampire junkie.” She didn’t want to become one of those pitiful fangbangers, people who would do almost anything to be bitten.
    The audience gave them a round of applause as the women stood up, the men sweeping their arms outward to mark the end of the performance. The crowd goggled curiously at the two dots on the women’s necks. Rue stepped forward with Julie and Megan to take her bow, and as she went down she thought she saw Carver Hutton again, out of the corner of her eye. When she straightened, he wasn’t there. Was she delusional? She pasted her smile back onto her face.
    The six of them ran into the house, waving to the guests as they trotted along, like a happy Polynesian dance troupe that just happened to (almost) all have Caucasian features. They were expected back out on the terrace in party clothes in fifteen minutes. Meanwhile, Denny James would be dismantling their sound system and loading it into the van, because an orchestra was set up to play live music.
    When they were scrambling out of the costumes, Rue made her request. “Julie, Megan...do you think you could leave your wigs on?”
    The other dancers stopped in the middle of changing and looked at her. Julie had pulled on some thigh-high hose and was buckling the straps of her heels, and Megan had pulled on a sheath dress and gotten her “native” skirt half off underneath it. The male dancers had simply turned their backs and pulled everything off, and now all three were in the process of donning the silk shirts and dress pants they’d agreed on ahead of time. Rick and Phil were helping Denny gather up the costumes and all the other paraphernalia to store in the van.
    But they were all startled by Rue’s request. There was a moment of silence.
    Julie and Megan consulted with each other in an exchanged glance. “Sure, why not?” Julie said. “Won’t look strange. We’re all wearing the same outfit. Same wig, why not?”
    â€œBut we won’t be wearing ours,” Karl said, not exactly as if he were objecting, but just pointing out a problem.
    â€œYeah,” Megan said, “but we look cute in ours, and you guys look like dorks in yours.”
    Karl and Thompson laughed at the justice of that, but Sean was staring at Rue as if he could see her thoughts if he looked hard enough. Phil, who never seemed to talk, was looking at Rue, with worry creasing his face. For the first time, Rue understood that Phil knew who she was. Like the girl in the library, he’d matched her face to the newspaper photos.
    The black wig actually looked better with the shining burgundy sheath than Rue’s own mahogany hair would have. She would never have picked this color for herself. Megan was wearing a deep green, and Julie, bronze. The men were wearing shirts that matched their partner’s dress. Burgundy was not Sean’s color, either. They looked at each other and shrugged simultaneously.
    Out on the terrace, minutes later, the three couples began dancing to music provided by the live band. After watching for a few minutes, other people began to join them on the smooth marble of the terrace, and the professional couples split up to dance with the guests. This was the part of the job that Rue found most stressful. It was also the most difficult for her partner, she’d noticed. Sean didn’t enjoy small talk with companions he hadn’t chosen, and he seemed stiff. Thompson was a great favorite with the female guests, always, and Karl was much admired for his sturdy blond good looks and his courtesy, but Sean seemed to both repel and attract a certain class of women, women who were subtly or not so subtly