The Thrill of Theater

Hours later, we’re sitting in a balcony box dressed in our best. Rach stands by the velvet drapes, dressed in black silk, her hands clamped on the railing. Somehow, she still looks elegant despite the sword hilt between her shoulder blades.

“Can you feel that?” Felicia bounces in her seat. The metal embellishments on her dress – gold gears and silver wrenches – clink as she moves. “The atmosphere’s practically electric!”

I grin, amused. “The dangerous thrill of potential death.”

“The vampires wouldn't ruin their own show, would they?”

I nod at Rach. “Depends if they’re still holding a grudge.”