Page 84 of Seph

Her father was right. Having feelings for someone else distracts you. Makes you weak. Unfocused.

She trailed Circe silently, so she was surprised when the redhead suddenly turned as she reached a door down a narrow hall behind the stage.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

Emily hoped the enchantress couldn’t see her clearly in the dark as she turned her face from focused hunter to confused dimwit. “Isn’t this part of the show? They told me I could get your autograph.”

“I...” The struggle between fame and duty was obvious as the woman hesitated. “I... I have a pen in my dressing room.”

“Oh, amazing! Your voice is so beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

Let’s see what powers she’s holding onto. She doesn’t seem confused—but if she were really on top of things, wouldn’t she be screaming at her staff to regroup?

Or is Mem controlling her somehow? Does she stay with Mem at all costs?

Emily knew she could be walking into a trap, so she hesitated in the doorway of the dressing room as Circe went inside. She’d expected the room to be small, based on the narrowness of the hallway, but inside, it was easily the size of a large hotel room. There were racks of dresses and a table full of makeup—but there was also an altar with a golden goblet and a veil wrapped around a lyre. At the very back of the room was an old-fashioned elevator, the kind with a grated door like a gold cage.

“Pen... Pen somewhere. Who should I make it out to?” Circe tossed a look over her shoulder.

“Um. Emily. Just Emily. I mean... I’m here with my boyfriend, but after last night, it doesn’t feel like he’s still my boyfriend. He’s been a little too flirty with some of these Vegas showgirls, and last night he... he disappeared for a few hours, and I....” Emily gave a fake sob into her hand.

“Oooh. That happens in this town about as much as you’d think. Is he still here with you?”

“He went to the bathroom right before everyone started leaving. I loved the show, but it was over so quick.”

“Technical difficulties,” Circe said, tension appearing on her perfectly made-up face. “Paper?”

“What paper?” Emily asked, blinking in confusion.

Circe tsked with an impatient eye roll. “Never mind. Would you like me to have a little word with your boyfriend about how he treats you? Sometimes men listen to strangers better than their own lovers, you know.”

“Oh, wow. Would you?”

“I’d love to. I often have private audiences with fans after the show—and my schedule suddenly seems to be cleared. Why don’t you see if you can find him?”

Emily hesitated, turning in a circle in the doorway. If she left Circe, who didn’t seem to be impacted by Lethe’s Dust, the enchantress could get away. On the other hand, if she went out and returned with Simeon, she might take them right upstairs to one of the forbidden areas.

Working alone is easier—sometimes. “But where is he?” she asked in a dazed voice, looking at Circe as she completed her fruitless spin.

“Why don’t you go home and lie down? I’m actually very busy, and if—”

“Emily? Em!”

“Here he is! Honey!” Emily waved her arm and shouted loudly, even though Simeon’s voice was still far away. In seconds, he appeared in the small, dark hallway. “Honey, the show is over, but Circe said we could have a private audience with her.”

“Here? In her dressing room?” Simeon caught up to her and put his arm around her waist.

Circe’s lips twitched. “Oh, this room has terrible acoustics. Let me take you to our private event room on the fifth floor. We call it The Garden.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Simeon wished that he was one of the fancy vamps. The kind of vampire who had telepathy. Emily squeezed his hand, and he squeezed hers back, letting her feel the keycard in his palm. As Circe led them to the elevator in back of her room, he looked for a keypad, but there was none, just an old pulley and lever system. “This is ancient. This is older than the building,” he gasped. “How did—”

“It’s a replica, of course,” Circe said sharply. She got in behind them and closed the grate. “Now, Mr...?”

“Crow. Simeon.”

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