Chapter Twelve
The next day was a full dress rehearsal before the opening only a few hours later. Luciano was in a crazed state, barking orders, stopping performances, giving notes that Eva had not expected to hear.
“Before tonight…I want to speak to you,” Ambrose spoke quietly to Eva as Luciano gave a torrent of notes to the conductor.
Eva didn’t respond, she had been jittery all day and the last thing she needed was a talk with Ambrose before the performance to shake her up.
“Eva.” He moved closer, his hand grazing the full silky skirts of her dress. “Please, I need to…”
“Again,” Luciano called from the base of the stage.
They sang all the way up to the moment when Lucretia declares that she is with child—that she is his and she asks him, in a shattering song, to bite her and bring her into his kingdom…making her and her voice eternal, making her his queen.
Just before the scene the stage went black.
“Mannaggia,” Luciano cried into the darkness.
“Eva,” Ambrose’s voice was close to her ear, she felt his touch in the darkness. “Eva, say you’ll speak to me. Say we can talk.”
Eva shook her head even though he couldn’t see her. How could she agree? Her heart wanted to, but she had to be stronger than her heart now.
In the darkness Eva pulled away, she walked across the stage as best she could and didn’t stop until she felt the chill of the side wall. She groped along the edges until she found her way to the back door and out into the hall.
Luciano broke the group early to work on getting the lights in the theatre back up. His Italian curses could be heard all through the building and probably out into the streets as well.
Eva felt desperate, locked in her own little world. Life was changing around her and she didn’t know what to do or where to go. Tears leaked out of her eyes unbidden and she didn’t seem to be able to control anything about her mind or heart.
As she changed out of her gown she exhaled fully. This was supposed to be the best night of her life, the first night of her life, but she felt like the sky was falling on her and she couldn’t stand beneath the weight of it.
She ducked out of the theatre before Ambrose had time to find her. She went to a café and sat watching the clock. The hands seemed to be ticking down to her fate and Eva could only manage to feel a sense of apprehension and impending doom.
Eva took a tea to go, and headed back to her dressing room for hair, makeup, costumes, and to warm up her voice.
Just as she was finishing when Ambrose walked in without knocking and closed the door behind him.
“Ten minutes to places,” Came a voice through the sound system. Eva looked at the small, hanging speaker as if there might be some other message to see as well.
“We should get out there.” Eva moved forward but Ambrose blocked her way.
“Why won’t you talk with me?” Eva had never heard Ambrose’s voice so insistent and serious before.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Eva moved around him put her hand to the doorknob, but Ambrose pushed the door closed again.
“Did I say something? Is something wrong?” Ambrose’s face pulled into view. Eva wanted to reach out and touch it but she turned her eyes back to the door.
“We need to get to the stage.” She tried to harden her voice against him but her words just came out sounding sad and deflated. She moved his hand from the doorknob then opened the door and walked out. She began to move down the back hall where a costume mistress with a rack of clothes moved past her.
“Eva!” Ambrose took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him.
“I’ve been trying to talk to you for days…I need to…I know that you probably—”
“—Ambrose.” She cut him off, stopping him midstream.
He looked over her face, his green shining eyes scouring the edges of her.
“I don’t want to be in the darkness…I’ve decided. I don’t want it. If I can’t have eternity with you, then I’d rather live a short life without music.” The words tumbled out of her. It hadn’t been part of her plan, but she didn’t even have a plan. Her only plan of action so far was to get through the run of the opera then to figure things out.
“Oh Eva.” His voice surprised her and she turned around again, determined to make it to the stage this time. “—Wait,” he called to her. “That’s it, that’s…I want you to come with me. To be with me.”
“No, Ambrose.” She whirled around, not worrying about her voice or who heard her. “I don’t want to be with you and five hundred other women. I’m not ok with that. I will never be ok with that. I just can’t…” She felt tears rise to her eyes and she turned again, trying to force them back down.
“Five minutes to places,” the voice came over the loud speaker.
Eva opened the door to the stage and stepped on.
“I don’t want any other women. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you—I want you. Only you,” Ambrose said the words into her ear. She turned in the half-lights of the stage. She looked over his face, she had to know if he was being serious.
Everything in his face told her that he was.
“Ambrose,” she whispered his name, “I’m pregnant.”
Ambrose froze. She waited, searching his face for the answer she needed.
A smile broadened across his features. “That’s wonderful! That’s…that’s the best news, the best thing you could have said.”
Eva felt a tear streak down her cheek.
“Places,” the stage manager said to the cast as he walked by.
Eva pushed her fingers across her cheek. She took a deep breath to reset, then moved out onto the stage.
When the curtains opened there was a new spark in her. Her body, her voice was alive. The night moved forward, she could feel the audience waiting on bated breath for the next revelation to come from their song.
Ambrose was like she’d never seen him before, as he moved across the stage she felt that he might take flight at any moment.
Had she heard him right? Had their conversation really happened? She wondered in brief spurts about her own sanity.
As her aria rose at the end of the first act there was gasp and a large, heavy sand bag began a hurried descent. Ambrose, who noticed the descending bag before she did, moved her out of the way just in time. The bag to fell right where Eva had been standing.
Eva looked to Ambrose who seemed even more shaken then she was. She looked to the spot then sang out her last notes and floated off stage.
Eva felt a tingle of apprehension. How was it that the bag had fallen just there? Why had the lights gone out earlier in the day? She felt her hands buzzing with a nervous tension but she pushed it from her mind.
The second act began with a slow build. Lucretia was in the flux of her decision and the Vampire King sang a range of big, powerful notes in his persuasions.
The opera continued with intense gusto. Eva’s voice met every demand and surpassed every note. She turned with a high note and saw a sea of faces before her. She could feel the collective breath, feel the energy so many people added to her own. Her voice dipped and on her next inhale there was a cracking sound from beneath her. Eva stepped back in time to see the trapped door give way beneath her.
What was happening? She looked at the square of darkness only two steps in front of her. Her eyes lifted, looking for Ambrose but suddenly there was a grip on her shoulders. It was the same absent grip she’d felt in the park, pushing her from the bridge. She felt herself being pushed toward the gaping hole in the floor. How far did it drop? And what was down there?
She reached out a wild hand and felt the chilly embrace of Ambrose standing across from her. He pulled her to him, up and over the hole. He held her in his arms as they sang their song. When Eva reached the wings of the stage she looked back to the gaping square in the floor.
“What the fuck is going on tonight?” The stage manager was talking to a stagehand next to him. “…Well go down and find out.”
Eva exhaled a shaky breath. She’d felt the hands on her shoulders, that hadn’t been in her imagination. What was it that Ambrose had said…when you lose your voice completely then you’ll really be in danger…
Was it even possible? She looked again.
“Eva…let’s go.” One of the women designated to help her into her costume change tugged on Eva’s arm.
“Of course,” Eva followed her into one of the side rooms. Two other women helped her undress through the intermission and get redressed into a two-layered gown. It was the most sumptuous material Eva had ever felt against her skin.
The amber colored gown flowed over her body in ripples. Eva tried to change as fast as possible so she could get back out and find Ambrose before the third act began.
As she pushed her way through the wings. A shiver ran up her spine.
“Something isn’t right,” she said as she saw Ambrose again.
“No, you aren’t safe.” he looked around the stage.
“What should I do?”
Ambrose ran a finger over her neck, “Are you ready?”
Eva felt the tingling sensation of his finger on her skin. Was she ready? Didn’t she need some time? To be sure he hadn’t just been saying what she wanted to hear? What if he changed his mind about her?
“Do you trust me?” He moved her face so she was looking into his eyes.
“Yes,” she said the word and she knew it was true. She loved him, she needed him, and she would trust him.
“Places, act three,” the stage manager yelled out in a terse voice. Eva might have thought that he was the one being stalked by dark, evil creatures.
Eva was prodded by two stagehands to get in a coffin on stage. She gotten into it at least twenty times in rehearsals for the beginning of act three but tonight the enclosed space took on a new meaning. She looked to the woman dressed all in black on her right. The woman smiled and offered her hand to help Eva in. Eva calmed herself and stepped up and into the thick wooden coffin.
The third act began and Eva looked up at the dark wood in front of her face. There were air holes in the coffin and a bit of screen had been put in along the sides, so there would be light enough for Eva to see.
Her world suddenly felt small, crushingly small. She pushed her hands against the outer sides, bracing herself as she heaved a giant breath. She watched her chest rise and fall and listened to Ambrose’s voice just outside on the stage. His voice was what she needed.
At any moment he would walk over and open the lid to the coffin. In the opera Lucretia had been snooping, looking around the Vampire King’s castle and she’d hidden herself away in an old relic of a coffin. When Ambrose opened the coffin and exposed Eva it was meant to be a comical moment in the mostly serious opera. She waited and listened for the musical cues.
The cues came. The coffin didn’t open.
Eva braced herself again, trying to find comfort in the solid walls on either side of her. She watched her chest lift and lower. Still the lid remained closed.
There was a sound outside and she could hear Ambrose tugging on the lid. It was stuck.
She looked desperately around her, trying to see if the lid could have gotten stuck anywhere on the inside. Claustrophobia was beginning to crush in on her, make her frantic for release.
Eva beat on the lid. She felt the air leaving her lungs. There was no way to make it out of this alive, she should have known that, she should have guessed. Eva closed her eyes.
The coffin rocked from side to side and Eva screamed. There was a suspension of gravity then, with a thud, Eva hit the floor. The coffin burst open and Eva gasped as she crawled out.
The audience burst into laughter, they didn’t know that anything was supposed to be any different. Eva was rattled. Her hands were shaking and she felt like she couldn’t get enough air.
She sat on the stage as Ambrose bent down and put a hand to her face. He began to sing again and she watched as he winked at her.
Eva put a hand to her chest then to her face and she stood up with Ambrose’s hand on her arm, helping her.
She came in a little late to the music but the sound was flawless and Eva gave herself over to Ambrose, to Luciano’s opera, and to the almost four thousand people watching them.
As Eva stood singing, stretching her voice and using the very real emotions she was feeling toward her performance she turned to face Ambrose.
As part of the set there were three separate suits of armor that were meant to line the walls of Ambrose’s castle. As Eva stepped out to run into Ambrose’s arms there was a movement behind them.
A full chorus was moving into place, they would be singing through the sequence, but there was another movement as well.
When Eva swiveled her head to see, there was a gasp from the audience. Once suit of armor was moving toward her, sword drawn.
Eva wanted to scream but the sound would not leave her mouth. She felt the invisible hands clutching around her body, holding her in place, keeping her from running.
“Ambrose,” she mouthed the name but no sound would reach her lips.
The knight that stood in front of Eva raised his sword. She struggled against the invisible hands holding her fast, but it was no use, she couldn’t break herself free.
Ambrose darted in front of her and caught the hand holding the sword just before it began its descent. Eva let out a blood-curdling scream. She heard various gasps from the audience. The chorus behind them was singing its full gothic song.
Everyone thought this was a part of the show. Eva felt her jaw bounce with emotion. Eva understood just how strong Ambrose was, and by the look of his struggle with the knight Eva could also understood how strong his opponent must really be.
They struggled against each other. Eva watched, powerless to help. Ambrose struggled and strained against the strength of the knight. Just as Eva thought Ambrose would prevail there was a clattering sound from behind her and once again the audience gasped. Eva turned her head long enough to see the second suit clunking toward her.
Ambrose lifted his foot and pushed it straight into the torso of the armor. The knight fell back releasing the sword. Ambrose wielded the sword like a master. He turned to Eva who sat sprawled on the wooden floorboards unable to move. She pushed her body against the invisible hands but they were strong, so much stronger than she was.
Ambrose lifted the sword above her head and as she winced there was the sound of metal on metal. The chorus kept on in full-blown voice. Everyone thought this was part of the spectacle so they would not help, had no idea that they should help. No one knew that at any moment both Eva and Ambrose could be split open in front of their eyes.
There was another clang of metal on metal and Ambrose began to move past Eva, the clink and clatter of repartee continuing on.
Eva squirmed hard enough to turn. She watched the back and forth blows between the two, each one powerful enough to kill. Eva watched in horror as the last suit began a clattering movement forward. Ambrose had his hands full as it was, how would he ever manage between two adversaries?
“Behind you,” Eva called.
Ambrose turned, he saw the third knight just in time to dodge out of the way of thunderous blow. The sword descended, splitting floorboards. It was quickly raised again and Ambrose moved between the two knights. Lifting his sword to one, then to the other. Eva closed her eyes, she focused all her energy on the grip she now felt herself in. She pushed her body against the invisible hands.
She inhaled, her voice, her song… hadn’t it been her voice leaving that meant they had sucked her power from her? Eva pulled in a breath and exhaled a stream of notes. They rose and filled the stage, softly at first, then with more breath and sharper notes. She lifted to her knees, then to her feet. She felt the hands losing power over her. She heard the clatter of metal around her but she sang through it. Eva felt her body expanding, felt the release of the hands that had clenched her so tightly.
The clattering and clanging stopped and Eva opened her eyes. A ripple of fear flowed through her. What if Ambrose had not been victorious? She whirled around on the stage to see pieces of armor scattered and strewn about the floor.
Ambrose dropped the sword he held and let it clang onto the ground. He walked forward, his body obviously exhausted, chest rising and falling.
He reached for her. Eva embraced him.
Ambrose drew back and began on the last pages of the opera, where the Vampire King asks Lucretia to be his queen and Lucretia accepts, opening her neck to him, inviting the bite that will pull her over into his world for all eternity.
He sang the words fully, the chorus laying the groundwork to the magnificent sound. Eva understood. She understood that when he asked as the Vampire King he was asking as Ambrose. She understood that what she was agreeing to as Lucretia she was agreeing to as Eva.
Eva put her hands around his face, she sang the words, deliberate, sure. There was no more hesitation, nothing to think about or worry about. She was certain.
Eva dipped her head back. She heard the loud lift of the chorus singing behind them, she felt the four thousand pairs of eyes watching her. Ambrose’s fingers gently touched the bare skin of her neck. She felt his face move toward her, bend to her, find her.
Then she felt a bolt of pure liquid heat. She felt an electric shock suddenly burst through her body. Her vision went black. Eva groaned and her body spasmed. Then her vision returned.
The colors of the world were overwhelming. She could smell each and every person and thing all at once. She waited as Ambrose pulled back from her, his eyes passionate, his face telling her he would always be by her side.
She stood to her full height, she looked at her hands, let the silk of her dress move against her skin. Eva felt a new energy blossom and burn within her. She could feel, as she hadn’t yet, the presence of life within her.
She put one hand to her stomach and looked at Ambrose. He looked better than he’d ever looked before. Not just because he was handsome, which he was, but because he was hers. He belonged to her and there were no more questions lingering in her mind. He lifted her hand and turned to the audience. With a breath, they finished the last line of the opera…. together we are one.