Page 33 of Marked
The theater is just that. With rows upon rows of high back chairs, long aisles, and rich red curtains, the only thing missing is an usher complete with little hat and flashlight. An old popcorn machine sits just inside, and Maximus stands in front of the massive screen. A long steel trolley, laden with everything needed for sundaes, is next to him. And I can’t quite quell my excitement at doing something so normal.
Or almost normal since it’s ice cream and a movie with a vampire queen.
“Can I ask a very personal question?” Raina asks as we fix bowls.
I shrug. “Sure.”
“Are you dating anyone?”
My eyes dip to her and then sweep the empty room. “Umm ... No.”
“Why not?”
I start to speak then clamp my lips closed. My fingers pick at the rim of my mostly empty bowl. “I worked a lot.”
“Worked? As in past tense?”
My face flames so fast, I nearly pass out. “Yes,” I growl the word.
Her blonde head turns, and she peeks at me over her shoulder as we climb to the back row of chairs. “I don’t mean any offense,” she says, like it’s not a big deal. “But there are always places in town hiring. And Underground is one of those places.”
“Underground?”
“The club Markus owns.”
“What would I do? Wait tables?” The words are more disgruntled than I intend. Carnage was a way to get by. But it was never what I wanted to do with my life.
She stops in front of the chairs, gauging the center of the screen. My lips quirk. It’s such a human thing to do.
“We do shows at Underground,” she says. “And we can always use extra people.”
I start to shake my head, raw terror filling me as all theshowsDraven put on come back with crystal clarity. “I don’t— Shows—”
She glances at me. “Oh not like you’re thinking.” One slim hand waves. “I mean, there are girls that are willing, sure. But we have a Druid that has his own skit. Really funny guy. Lots of ventriloquist work with shrunken heads and stuff. But it gets so busy that our wait staff is dead on their feet by intermission from all the back and forth mixing of drinks.”
My eyes bug.
A comedy show? With shrunken heads?
“It’s not a forever thing, Lilah,” she continues. “But, if you need to get back on your feet, we can use a bartender.”
Bartend? Now that I could do.
I look at her. Really look. “What isyourjob?”
She rolls her eyes, but a trace of color fills her face. “Markus has this thing about me working.”
“Like he won’t let you?”
Her blue eyes go wide. “Goddess, no. Nothing like that.” She blushes harder. “I was in a different colony before I met him. With my looks ... I worked as a stripper when money was tight. Or when my old leader wanted to try and take over a rival colony or free zone.”
I take in her almost doll-like perfection. The innocence she exudes, despite her physique, would mean big money to the right crowd. Understanding and more of that strange protective urge fills me.
She drops into a chair, hands gripping her bowl of ice cream like it holds all the answers she seeks. “We were set to run Markus and the others into the ground. To take his land. His money. All I had to do was seduce Markus. I got into a fight with the leader when I wouldn’t let them ... They wanted to ...” Her expression goes distant, and terror freezes the blood in my veins. “It’s how Markus found me.” She inhales, but it’s tremulous. “Now, I don’t have to work if I don’t want to. But to be honest, I don’t know what I want to do with my life anyway. So I manage Underground for him.”
I reach slowly for her hand. She peers at me, tears making her eyes too big. Too bright. My temper rises.
How has she maintained such a sweet demeanor towards my kind?
