Page 66 of The Tenor's Shadow

Chapter 21

Freddie

As Freddie sat in the front row of the opera house, staring at the lush velvet curtain, his emotions churned in his gut. He was proud, so proud of Anthony, that he would make his debut at Manhattan Lyric Opera. He was thrilled and nervous to watch his love perform, but it wasn’t enough to overcome the dread that the Azarians might take advantage of their few minutes apart to attack.

As the orchestra took up the strains of the overture, the mournful sound of the French horn washed over Freddie.

The opera began, and Freddie found it hard to focus on the chorus of villagers, or even on the lively soprano who played the title character of La fille du régiment. She was doing well, as far as Freddie could tell. She was certainly loud. But he was itching to see the face of his beloved.

As the chorus of soldiers filed in, Freddie’s whole body tensed. He knew that something was amiss. He’d watched Anthony rehearse the entire show, running staging and traffic patterns in their hotel room. He knew the soldiers should be chasing Anthony, but his mate wasn’t on stage.

With a confused look on his face, the baritone sang the line that would require Anthony’s vocal response.

“Eh quoi! c’est l’étranger qui t’aime!…”

The silence that followed lasted an eternity. Before the stage manager could get on the microphone to stop the show, Freddie was out of his seat and had leapt onto the stage, not caring in the slightest that the audience of humans might question his supernatural athleticism.

“Come!” he cried out as he hit the stage, and Rose and Lillian dove from their two parterre boxes on either side of the proscenium.. Lillian fell into a roll, and Rose caught herself with her hands as she hit the deck.

They trailed behind Freddie as he rushed backstage, weaving in and out amongst the confused stagehands and supernumeraries. He couldn’t scent his lover anywhere.

“He never even made it backstage!” he yelled as Rose and Lillian caught up with him.

“The stairwell from the dressing room is back there.” Rose gestured to an exit off in the stage left wing.

Metal screamed as Freddie ripped the door from its hinges, bounding up the concrete steps three at a time. The scent of his mate’s blood stopped him in his tracks.

“He’s been hurt.” The growl ripped from his throat, and his vision clouded over with the red mist. He was losing control.

The slap across his face came hard and stinging. “You can’t rage right now.” Lillian brushed the hair from her face nonchalantly. “We need you here with us. Find Anthony.”

He squeezed his eyes tight. Freddie fought back against the crimson surge that threatened to overwhelm him. Locked in place, he was striving to keep his wits about him. Two firm hands pressed against his cheeks, and Rose’s voice cut through the fog.

“Your demon can trust us, Freddie. We will find him. You are not alone.”

His eyes popped open, and his breath burst from his lungs as he struggled for control of himself.

“My mate…I have to…”

“I know,” Rose said. “We’re here. I’ve fought under you. You’ve protected the coven with courage, even while you held yourself apart from us. Now you’ve found your mate. That is not a weakness. It is not a weakness to connect. We’re here. We won’t let you down.”

Rose’s eyes sparkled with determined compassion, and the wild rage flared inside him and died down. It wasn’t gone, but it was under his control.

He nodded. “Thank you.”

Rose removed her hands and stepped back. Freddie knelt down where the odor of Anthony’s blood was the strongest. There were traces of it on the steps, but nothing to indicate a fatal blow.

“He is alive. Unconscious, I think. His dresser, Gabriela, was here, but I can’t smell anyone else.”

“How well do you know her?” Rose’s eyes turned sharp and cold.

“Well enough. Anthony worked with her in Barcelona and he asked her to come along. She was charming and did her job well.”

“She became his personal dresser after only a couple of weeks?”

Freddie nodded, then blinked, confused. It was odd that he hadn’t even questioned it.

“Was she charming, or did she Charm you?” Lillian chimed in uneasily. “In the way of the old world vampires?”

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