Chaos Choreography (InCryptid, #5)(62)
Only the fact that Malena was even faster than I was saved us both from a very bad experience. She hissed and let go. “Stand down, Jesus! All I did was grab you!”
“Keep your voice down!” I countered, making the knife vanish back into my dress. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to grab people?”
“I didn’t expect you to respond by pulling a goddamn harpoon out of your crotch,” she snapped. “How is your boy still among the living? You should have stabbed him the first time he rolled over in bed.”
“He’s a sound sleeper.” I cast a glance over my shoulder to the costumes she’d pulled me through. They weren’t currently moving. Maybe we were going to get lucky, and no one had noticed my impromptu disappearance. I looked back to Malena. “You need to stick close to me or Pax tonight. If you can’t find us, look for Alice. I know she’s lurking around the back of the theater.”
“She’d better be. Shit, V—” Malena caught herself before she could use my real name, and continued with a, “I didn’t expect to be in the bottom this week. I thought Troy and I danced better than this.”
“You did,” I said. “The voters make weird decisions. Now we just need to make sure that if you’re eliminated, you never go anywhere alone. Anywhere.”
“What if Pax and I both get eliminated?” Malena asked.
I grimaced. “Then we hope whoever killed Chaz and Poppy will go after the two of you, because I’m honestly not sure I can stop this if I’m the only one in the theater who knows what’s going on.”
Malena’s glare could have melted metal. “I didn’t sign up to play the bait in your little crusade.”
“No one signed on for this ‘little crusade,’ Malena. People are dying, and we’re trying to stop it.” A bong sounded, signaling the first couple to take the stage. “If you and Pax are eliminated, they’re not going to know what hit them. I still hope that doesn’t happen. I’d much rather have the two of you helping us track down our killers. Either way, I’m hoping no one dies tonight.”
“You know, when I came here, I was just hoping for a shot at the big money,” grumbled Malena. “I’m coming up on my twenty-sixth birthday. It’s time to start thinking about having kids. That’ll be a lot easier if I can actually afford them.”
“I think we all came here for that,” I said. “I know Poppy and Chaz didn’t sign up because they were hoping to get their throats slit.”
Malena looked at me gravely. “Do you think we’re going to be able to stop this?”
“Honestly, Malena, I don’t know. But we’re going to do the best we can.” That’s all we could ever do, and all my family had ever done: the best that we could. It was a real pity that even our best had never been enough to keep everyone we cared about alive.
The rest of the show passed with the kind of speed found only in tense situations and anxiety dreams. Anders and I danced our quickstep with as much enthusiasm as we could muster, but I knew I was letting him down; I was too worried about what might happen after elimination to focus on my energy and my connection with my partner. The judges knew it, too. Getting criticized and warned about potentially being in the bottom next week was painful. Having Clint look at me like I had personally disappointed him was worse.
At least I had stayed on the beat and kept my feet moving. Maybe I’d put myself in danger, but Anders should be safe. And maybe if I kept telling myself that, the universe would take pity on me and somehow make it true.
Brenna called the six dancers in danger back to the center of the stage after the last couple finished. The rest of us moved to stand in the space between the judging platform and the audience, still in our costumes. The nervous energy rolling off the group was palpable. I was struck once again by how simple this had all seemed once, how blissfully removed from the world I’d grown up in. The last time I’d been standing here, I’d been thinking only about winning, proving I was America’s Dancer of Choice, and that I could have a life beyond the one my blood had fated for me.
Now I was worried about whether two of the people up on that stage were going to survive the night. I was worried about the fact that of the three contestants who knew about the deaths, two of them had their heads on the chopping block. If Malena and Pax were both eliminated, and we didn’t catch the killers before the theater closed for the night, I was going to be the only person left who knew what was going on and had free, unfettered access to the building.
Brenna and the judges had been speaking while I fretted over the future. Now she turned to them, and said, “Well, Adrian? Please don’t leave us in suspense any longer, my heart can’t take it.” Neither could the dancers who stood beside her, their hands locked together and their faces set in near-matching expressions of grim stoicism. There could be no crying or visible distress: the two who survived tonight’s elimination would need votes to stay on the show, and the public didn’t respond well to the idea that someone was a sore loser, no matter how untrue it was.
Please, Adrian, I thought. Just get it over with.
Adrian leaned forward. “Well, Brenna, we’ve discussed it, and our decision tonight is unanimous. The girl who’ll be leaving us tonight is . . . Leanne.”
Leanne pulled her hands away from the other two, covering her face. Now that she’d lost, she was allowed to show how crushed she was.