A few of the other costumed performers shot curious glances our way, and I pulled Skye toward me and away from the group. “What should we do? I thought we came in here to hide.”
“We did.” She flipped up the hood of her cape. “But sometimes hiding in plain sight is the smartest move.”
I wrinkled my nose as I turned her words over in my head. Was this a battle strategy I had used? Was this hiding in plain sight technique something I should know? It did not feel very Vandar.
“If we are in sight of those chasing us, won’t it make us easier to catch?”
She took another step closer and rested a hand on my midsection. “But you look nothing like you did when we escaped. Noone would look at you in that outfit and think that you’re the tailed guy in a leather kilt who escaped.”
I let my gaze follow hers. She was right about that. Nothing about what I was wearing looked like anything a Vandar raider would be caught dead wearing. I might not remember much, but I knew that in the core of my soul.
“I still think we are exposing ourselves too much by being here.” I noticed more of the waiting performers looking our way with questioning expressions.
“We won’t be here long. As soon as this group goes onstage, we can go find a better place to hide.”
Shouts from the stage caused a ripple in the group, as the music that had been in the background swelled, and thundering drums made Skye flinch. While the group of performers hurried onto the stage, I took another step back and pulled Skye with me.
“No, you don’t,” a voice said from behind.
Then the stage manager was shoving both of us toward the group walking onto the stage. I only had a moment to shove the helmet on my head before Skye and I were staggering forward and into the glaring lights.
The fighting men were gone and, from the other side of the stage, a cluster of people dressed as bushes were shuffling into place. The performers we’d been standing with were taking their places, but I did not know where to go. With the lights in my eyes, it was hard to see the people watching, although it was easy to hear their clapping and cheering.
Skye’s hand closed around mine, and she tugged us to the backwith the living plants. “Stay in the background and keep your head down.”
Good advice since my head towered over all the others. At least the helmet covered my long, dark hair. I would have to thank the stage manager for giving it to me—after I throttled him for pushing me into the middle of a performance.
I followed the swaying greenery and Skye’s movements as everyone else broke into song, wondering if maybe being in the prison cell wasn’t so bad after all. At least there was so much organized chaos on the stage that no one would think to notice me standing in the back flanked by gyrating trees.
Then the song was over, and Skye pulled me off stage with the rest of the performers, including the dancing trees who were now chattering excitedly. Just as I released a breath that we’d survived being on stage and no one had spotted us, a female in a sparkling blue dress sauntered up and folded her arms over her chest.
She gave me a sultry smile that she then slid to Skye. “You want to tell me why you’re crashing my show?”
Chapter
Eighteen
Skye
“We’re not crashing,” I managed to say as the strikingly beautiful woman leveled her gaze at me, even though that was precisely what we were doing.
Her glossy, black hair fell straight and long over her shoulders, reminding me of images I’d seen of ancient Earth females who’d ruled as queens over Egypt. Even her dark eyes with heavy liner forming wings to each side reinforced her regal—and intimidating—persona.
“I know everyone in this company,” she purred as she stepped closer, “and I don’t know you.” She cut her eyes to Kolt. “Either of you.”
The pushy stage manager was nowhere to be seen, although I doubted he’d be much help. Blaming him for pushing us on stage didn’t much matter when we’d snuck into the theater in the first place.
“That’s because we’re new,” I lied.
Her eyelids lowered as she cocked her head. “How new?”
“We just arrived,” Kolt said, playing along with my ridiculous ruse.
The woman swept her gaze over both of us, one dark eyebrow arching. “Now that I can believe. What are you wearing?”
Before I could come up with another barely believable lie, there was jostling and raised voices behind us.
“Imperial guards,” a nearby performer said, disgust dripping from his voice.
