On the Prowl by Kate Rudolph
4
Em had freakedout over nothing. She was sure of it now. She’d gone to sound check and everything had gone off without a hitch. Then she had given one of the best performances of her entire tour.
No werewolves rushed her on the stage. Not even anyone in a werewolf costume. It had been a stupid prank. Probably one of the crew pulled it off. And they had no idea that it had affected her so deeply. How could they? It wasn't like she had told anyone about her sister.
She regretted calling Stasia. She was the stereotypical older sister, at least when it came to Em. And she would want to fix everything. She was going to show up at the hotel, take a look around, and try and run Em's life.
It would be torture. So Em was going to need to head her off at the pass. There was no calling her off at this point, not when she'd been so worried on the call. She was bound to show up soon enough, and Em wanted her gone as soon as possible.
Did that sound that cold-blooded? Probably.
But the tour was her world. And she needed to protect it. Stasia wouldn't understand everything about tour life. Sure, she could control an emergency department in a hospital like no one's business, but this was a different kind of chaos. And Em usually thrived in it.
She'd just finished up her morning rehearsal and had an hour free in her schedule before she had to do a quick media appearance. She scampered back to her dressing room in defiance of the prank from the night before. She was surprised to see a crew member already in the room. The young woman had purple streaks in her hair and wore torn jeans and a T-shirt from a band that had been Em's opening act three tours ago.
The young woman startled when Em walked in. "I'm sorry. Melinda sent me in here to do some organizing. I'm Vi." She offered a faint wave, as if she was scared Em was about to have a diva moment and scream at her until she left.
Melinda Ramsey was the woman in charge of this tour. She kept things running so that Em could give the great performances she needed to. And Melinda had a fleet of crew like Vi who jumped whenever she gave the command.
Em knew that her dressing room wasn't really a private sanctuary. Unless she specifically asked for privacy, people were in and out of it at all times of the day. It was a necessity. They had limited space backstage, and most her costumes were in the back of the dressing room.
The costume crew had to look at them from time to time to repair any damage that occurred during the shows or during travel, and at this venue her dressing room led right back into one of the larger storage closets. It was a matter of practicality that a few of the road crew would need to be in and out during the day.
Anyone could have done the prank. This room was rarely locked. And as she was seeing right now, anyone could come in.
"You're fine," she told Vi. She wasn't about to throw a wrench into the finely honed machine that the tour was supposed to be. "What's Melinda have you doing?"
Vi blew out a breath and her shoulders sagged. "I'm doing another check on your costumes. Melinda thought she heard the costumer complain about a few tears, and she wanted me to make sure that nothing was out of place. We don't want you going on stage naked. No wardrobe malfunctions."
"Right." Vi clearly meant that for a laugh line, but Em didn't have it in her to share the joke right now. Especially not when she was wondering about tears in her costumes. The offending piece of fabric was on the ground right by Vi's feet, and Em wasn't sure if she had seen it yet.
She knew she should probably say something. Call attention to it and get it taken care of. They could repair the costume like nothing had ever happened or replace it if it was beyond repair. Then she could forget about the prank and get on with her life. Of course, there were still the scratches on the table. But with the clarity of morning, they hardly seemed as bad as she'd feared.
But she couldn't get rid of anything before Stasia arrived. Her sister would insist on seeing the costume and the table. It was stupid. But it probably had something to do with spooky werewolf magic. Something that Stasia would insist that Em didn't understand.
Em sank down into her chair and pulled out her phone. It was strange. She had expected Stasia to give her a call to let her know when she would arrive. Instead, Stasia had sent a text saying that she was discussing the issue with everyone and they would talk later.
Em didn't know what that meant. Well. Everyone had to mean the werewolf bodyguards that made up Stasia's pack. But what was there to discuss? It wasn't like this was an official job. It was, at best, a favor. And she didn't need a werewolf bodyguard, not when her sister would do.
She really wished she hadn't said anything.
Stasia would never let her live this down.
"All done," said Vi, standing from where she had been crouched in front of the costumes. "I'll let you have your dressing room back."
"Thank you." Em had just enough time to sneak in a catnap, and she didn't think she'd ever had a better idea. There was a small couch tucked into the back of the room and she headed to it and laid down, not bothering to cover herself with a blanket. The door opened and closed and she was sure that Vi was gone.
And then it opened again. Em didn't bother to open her eyes. "Did Melinda want something else?" she asked Vi.
"Who's Melinda?" asked a male voice that she recognized.
That wasn't Stasia.
What was Andre doing here?