Chaos Choreography (InCryptid, #5)(73)
Malena nodded thoughtfully. “So they have to split the middle. Powerful enough that we don’t notice when things are out of place, but weak enough that they don’t disrupt the show. Do you think it could be one of the choreographers? They like it when we come to rehearsal.”
“I know it’s not one of us; I know it’s not Brenna,” I said. “That’s about where my knowledge runs out.”
“How do you know it’s not Brenna?” asked Pax. “She’s close enough to the dancers that any of us would follow her into a dark corner without thinking twice. She’s tall, too. Strong. She could probably subdue most of the dancers on this show without a problem.” He didn’t add that he was one of the few dancers too strong for her to take down. He didn’t need to.
I was too busy gaping at him to point that out. He’d just identified one major flaw in our intelligence gathering: namely, the fact that protecting the status of the various cryptids I knew had been so drummed into me for so long that I’d never thought to ask whether they knew each other. “I know because Brenna asked me for help the first night of the show,” I said. “She and her sisters need me to broker an introduction to the dragons of New York for them.”
There was a moment of stunned silence as Pax and Malena worked through the implications of this statement. Then they exploded, both of them speaking at once.
“—can’t be serious, there’s no way in hell that Brenna Kelly is—”
“—she’s too nice to be a dragon princess, it doesn’t make any—”
“—thought they were only interested in gold, not in reality television—”
I put up my hands, motioning for them to quiet down. “I didn’t tell you before because it wasn’t mine to tell; I’m telling you now because you need to know that she’s a friend. Dragons can be greedy and self-interested. In this case, that works in our favor. If she and her sisters want access to the male of their species, they won’t do anything that might get me hurt.” I didn’t bother reminding them that “dragon princess” was an outdated, inaccurate term. It was going to take a while for the phrase to work its way out of the language—assuming it ever did. A female cat was a queen, and a male harpy was a harrier. Why shouldn’t a female dragon be a princess? There were definitely more insulting words in the world.
“So it’s not Brenna because the profit is in a successful show, not a bunch of dead dancers,” said Malena. “Shit. Brenna Kelly’s a dragon? Shit. I gotta tell my mother she was wrong when she said no one had ever been able to hide forever.”
“She didn’t hide forever,” said Pax, with a faint note of black amusement. “Verity blew her cover. Good going, Verity.”
“I do what I can,” I said. A yellow cab came gliding around the corner with Dominic in the front passenger seat. He pointed at us, clearly signaling the driver. The vehicle pulled to a stop and we all piled in.
I looked back as the cab pulled away. I couldn’t help myself. The Crier Theater loomed behind us like some vast, hulking beast, squat and hungry and obscene. My grandmother was in there somewhere, or had been, when she was lost. We had to get her back.
We had to.
The drive home was silent, save for the crackle of the radio and the occasional muttered directions from Dominic, who seemed content to be the most memorable one in the car. Our cabbie hadn’t been within range of the confusion charms, and might remember us later if anyone asked. A short redhead, a tall Latina, and a massive Pacific Islander didn’t get into cabs in this area every day. I spent the time bent over my phone, sending the new assortment of gruesome snapshots to my father. Hopefully, this would tell him more about what we were up against. If it didn’t, I didn’t know what we were going to do.
We asked to be dropped two blocks from the apartment. Better safe than sorry, especially when talking about people who were treating my colleagues like their own private hunting ground. Dominic paid the driver, and the four of us stood on the sidewalk, watching as the cab slid off into the night.
“Pax?” I said, once I was sure we were alone.
“I’ll do my best to get inside quietly. If Anders wakes up, I’ll tell him we were hung up at the theater trying to console Malena. He knows we’ve been getting close to her recently. He’ll believe it.”
“All right. If you see Lyra—”
“If you see Lyra, tell her I took Verity home with me after we left the theater; too upset to deal with the fact that we’d lost someone from my season,” interjected Malena. “Feel free to make like Mac and I were super close, instead of just people who’d danced together a time or two. Sell it as hard as you can, and we’ll be besties if that’s what it takes to make it look legit.”
“You do make the most remarkable friends,” said Dominic dryly.
Malena looked at him and snorted.
I touched Pax on the arm. “Be safe,” I said. “If anything seems out of place, come find us. Don’t be a hero.”
“I have a family at home to worry about,” said Pax. “I have no interest in being a hero.”
“See, I have family, too,” I said. “Having a family seems to be the trigger that keeps forcing people to heroism.”
“You’re a good person, Verity, but I swear, I’ll never understand humans,” said Pax. With that, he turned and walked away, heading for the apartments and leaving me alone with Dominic and Malena.