Rabbit Blood

Chapter 15 - The Confrontation

It was an hour later. Leslie lay on her front in bed, her face in her hands, when she heard the familiar static. She dragged the tears from her eyes, but knew her throat would crack and betray her.

"Get the fuck out of my room."

"You don't want to know how it came out?"

"No."

He stood there, humming some silly showtune to himself, like he was trying to draw her ire.

"What?!"

"Something amusing happened at the end. Turns out Blitzo fancied himself as a performer, and gave his own song and dance. Gave himself the winning score, with the cooperation of the other judges. Nobody was happy, of course! You should have seen their faces. Imagine! If I was allowed to interfere with the contest more directly, none of that nonsense would have happened."

Leslie pulled herself up, kneeling on the mattress. She hated to look at him right now, but it was better than lying there like a stubborn child. "I don't care," she told him, "get out of my room, I don't want to see you."

He was beaming, crinkling around the eyes; now that was ruined for her, on top of every other horrible thing tonight. "Angel came up short," he reported. "Only by a single point, but I think Husk will be very pleased. Cheer up, my darling, you beat him! And you made every man in that room fall in love with you."

That did it. Leslie flung herself off the bed, stormed up to Alastor and shoved him in the ribs.

"How fucking dare you," she said. "You think I give a shit about getting attention? That's not how I wanted to dance! What did you do? Did you hex me?"

"If I told you yes, would you feel better?"

"What does that mean?"

Alastor smiled thinly now, patiently. "Leslie, I'll be frank. We both know your solo work is technically impressive, but it doesn't have the heat and intensity of dancing with a partner. You needed that to gain the edge! You needed your audience to visualize themselves in the shadow's place. Oh, and I wish you could have seen yourself, you and him... what a pair you made!"

"That's... You can't-!"

"Yes, I conjured him. Yes, I made him move, and yes, I watched you from the wings... so interesting it was, to have two different perspectives... But darling, I did not make you do anything."

Leslie shook her head, willing herself not to make fresh tears. "You're a liar."

"How about this? I'll apologize, if you tell me you didn't enjoy what happened, at least a little." He took a step towards her and maddeningly stroked her chin. "It wasn't so different from how we danced before."

And something about the way he said that made her pause. She was about to unleash all her righteous rage upon him; instead, he forced her to self-examine. There was no way to downplay what they'd done. Clearly she'd enjoyed the dance. Sixty-or-so people bore witness to the fact that Leslie truly, madly, deeply wanted that shadow. The shadow who moved like Alastor, the bolder version of Alastor she'd been yearning to meet... but he was right. It wasn't so different from before, because they had rehearsed it. It was practiced.

Once again, she covered her face.

"What's the matter?"

"The matter," she said, "is... I don't know. Maybe some things should stay private. Our dance wasn't for anyone else, you understand?"

"You consider that first time sacrosanct?"

She looked at him, and let silence hang in the air. The absolute nerve...