Free Sleeping Beauty and the Demon by Marina Myles Page A

of the way. Praying that the brawl would stop soon, she clutched her chest. Luckily, an officer bounded up the main aisle and blew his whistle.
    “What’s goin’ on ’ere?” the cop asked in an Irish accent. When he reached the stage, he halted. “Is that you, young O’Leary?”
    “Yes, it’s Patrick!” Rose responded. “Stop them, officer!”
    “See ’ere, ya two maniacs. Stop yer fightin’ or I’ll arrest ya both.” The red-faced officer managed to pry Patrick away from Drago. When the enemies stood apart, they wiped the blood from their lips with the backs of their hands.
    “Who started this nonsense?” the policeman asked.
    Patrick remained silent. Drago, on the other hand, pointed at his opponent, his breath too ragged to speak.
    “Is it true?”
    Ashamed, Patrick hung his perspiration-soaked head. But then he seemed to get his second wind. “This lunatic nearly killed me. And he has every intention of stealing my girl away!” He started at Drago again with clenched fists.
    “Hold on there, young man. Let’s get some fresh air, shall we?” The policeman didn’t wait for an answer, but took Patrick by the jacket lapel and started to yank him away.
    The audience remained fixated in their seats, entertained as much by the brawl as they had been by the magic.
    “Rose,” Patrick called over his shoulder, “let’s go.”
    She stood frozen for a moment. What should I do?
    She longed to comfort Drago and Patrick both, but her need to be with Drago overshadowed everything else. She stared at him. His smoldering stare bore into her soul, speaking a thousand words, though he never opened his mouth.
    “I’m staying,” she murmured in Patrick’s direction.
    “You’re what? Rose, you don’t know what that bastard said to me just before he pretended to kill me!”
    The officer rolled his eyes and whisked Patrick out of sight. Hushed words of surprise and criticism followed them as the crowd began to filter out of the theater as well.
    Now that she was alone with Drago, Rose moved to him. “Are you all right?” She placed a hand to his bruised and battered face. Her eyes welled with tears. “I need to know what you said to Patrick.”
    He said nothing. Instead, he took her hand and pressed it to his swollen lips. “Come with me,” he whispered with passion and urgency.

CHAPTER 12
    A slew of reporters that hadn’t been allowed in until then attempted to get close to the stage. In the meantime, four ushers barred the side staircases.
    As Drago dodged the camera flashes, he shielded his face with his hand and grimaced. Racing into the wings with Rose alongside him, he shouted, “Get their film, Archibald!”
    Ducking questions from Katherine and avoiding murmurs from the stage crew, who claimed that the guillotine trick was nothing like it’d been rehearsed, Drago managed to escape with Rose out the side door.
    The alley was filled with shadows and the smell of rancid trash but, thankfully, it was void of people. Drago grasped Rose’s hand tightly and directed her around the corner. They spotted a throng of reporters and on-lookers at the front of the theater, lying in wait.
    “I grant interviews to reporters on one condition,” Drago said darkly. “No photographs.” He pulled Rose in the opposite direction from the crowd. “We’ll go to my apartment.”
     
    Had Rose lost her mind? She’d dragged Patrick to the theater tonight only to snub him in public. The reality of it convinced her that she had no control over her actions.
    She wouldn’t be surprised if Patrick never spoke to her again. And to make matters worse, she was in the center of Drago’s media frenzy.
    It took five minutes for them to reach the sanctity of Drago’s apartment building. Never before had Rose been so happy to see a common redbrick structure with tin molding. Still grasping Drago’s hand tightly, she followed him up a flight of stairs to apartment 9G.
    After Drago slipped his key into the lock, she stepped