Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, and I also feel like I should say something about not having any claim to Jim Butcher's The Dresden Files series, which this work was heavily inspired by.
Brittany S. Pierce stood as still as a statue in the almost oppressive darkness that existed behind the heavy velvet curtain that currently draped across to stage, shielding her and the other six members of Stix's famed dance act. She was nervous, naturally, like she was every time she was about to perform in front of a crowd larger than her brother Sam, or her parents, or a few of her friends. But she couldn't let the nerves rise to the surface, she couldn't be overcome by them.
If there ever was a person born to do something with their life, it was Brittany, and that something was to dance. According to her parents, she had been a dancing machine practically since the first time she had ever heard music. Mom joked all the time, in fact, that while every baby kicked in their mother's womb, Brittany was the only baby doing a kickline. Sam, of course, always argued that all that kicking must have been the root cause of his dyslexia, and they both laughed every time. She'd been doing formal dance, everything from ballet to modern to jazz to tap, ever since she was six. She'd been a cheerleader and the captain of her high school's dance team, and had even received a dance scholarship from Ohio State.
Now, here she was, at twenty-three years old, smack in the sixth week of her sixth month-long contract with Stix. So far it had been the greatest experience of her life, and the reviews had been rave. Everyone from friends to talent scouts to newspaper critics, and of course her parents and brother, by far the biggest source of praise. Even Marv, the owner of the club/restaurant, had nothing but good things to say about her, though judging by some of the looks Marv gave her, she doubted that his intentions in that regard were purely to make her feel like part of the Stix family.
Marv, however, with his bald head, badly planned beard, and even more badly planned stomach definition, held no interest for her. Nor would he have even if he was the most gorgeous man to ever live. It wasn't that Brittany didn't like men, oh no, she'd had two boyfriends in high school and had been very attracted to, and perhaps on the road to loving, one of them when it came time for college and for her to pursue her dreams. But for Brittany it was always about the dance, and anything else was just an unnecessary distraction. No one, man or woman, was going to take her away from her passion.
The noise from beyond the curtain suddenly began to quiet until only one booming voice remained. Brittany tensed herself as she listened to the announcement, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Amber, an African-American dancer from a small town in Indiana, doing the same.
"Ladies and Gentleman" Marv's voice sounded from in front of the curtain, projected from the four wall-mounted speaker's that would soon project the music that Brittany and her fellow dancers were preparing to perform to. "Please join me in welcoming the greatest dance act that Cleveland has ever seen: The Stix Dancers!"
There was a burst of loud applause from the audience, progressively getting louder as the heavy veil retreated to the edges of the rectangular stage. Brittany stood even stiller than she had been before, waiting for the lights to come up and the music to begin playing. As the applause died down, a single whistle went up from the crowd. Before it even had a chance to echo, the lights were up and music was bursting from the speakers.
Brittany fell into the rhythm as it did, losing her sense of place almost completely. She knew what she had to do, and she knew that the other dancers did as well. All she had to do was do what she knew she was supposed to, what she had so painstakingly practiced in the studio, and on this stage, and even in front of her brother.
When the music stopped, so did her body, though her mind only gathered that fact a few milliseconds later. There was a burst of cheering and applause from the appreciative audience, but Brittany couldn't see any of them, seeing as the number had ended with her back to the audience. Though even blind to it was she was, she could not shake the feeling that someone was gazing at her more intently than the others, and not just some horny male either. She wanted to turn her head slightly to see if she could catch a glimpse, but before she got the chance, the next song started and her mind gave her body the nudge it needed to fall into the dance.
There were three more songs in the routine, and even when her moves had her facing front she couldn't take even a microsecond to seek out the source of the odd feeling. Finally, after nearly ten minutes of dancing, the last song finished. Brittany, suspended as she was on the shoulders of Amber and Diana, got a chance to scan the crowd.
It was hard to catch the face her feeling was directing her to for a moment, but then, out of some sudden instinct, she knew right where to look.
And she was glad she had.
Whatever odd feeling had come over her on stage, she could tell the source by one glance: a beautiful dark-haired girl, her skin the rich caramel color of a native of Puerto Rico or some other tropical isle. Her features were pretty, but tight somehow, like a predator. And her eyes, her eyes reminded Brittany of the time she and Sam had seen wolves at the zoo during a trip to San Diego. Focused, alert, hauntingly beautiful…
She felt an odd jerking sensation as the girls holding her lowered her down to the stage. The troupe bowed once, then twice more, and exited the stage. Before she reached the wings, Britt turned to catch one last glimpse of her alluring observer. Whoever she was, she was sitting back down from her standing ovation, still clapping politely and still looking as intensely at Brittany as before.
The curtain swished closed, and Brittany felt herself being shocked back into reality as she felt a touch on her arm. She snapped her head around and found herself looking directly into Diana's concerned face. "Is something wrong, Britt?"
Brittany shook her head. "No, it's nothing," she replied, "I just, uh, I thought I recognized someone out there in the crowd."
"Was it your brother?" came the voice of Jenna at her side, taking her arm and leading her back to the dressing room. "Oooh, the things I would do to that boy if I had half a chance…"
"No, it definitely wasn't Sam," Brittany assured her, "I'd definitely know him. Actually, it's weird, but, it's been nearly a week since I've gotten to talk to him."
"Really? I thought you two were practically attached at the hip." This from Diana, who sat at her usual makeup table, directly to the right of Brittany.
Britt sat at her table and reached for her eyeliner, hoping to do some touching up before the nine o'clock show. She wondered if that woman would still be in the crowd…
"Do ya think?" Brittany felt Diana tapping on her shoulder, and found herself shocked back to reality. What had it been about that woman that was making her so spacey?
"I'm sorry, what?" She asked, looking at Diana.
"I said: Maybe he went and found himself a girlfriend," the blonde repeated, obviously annoyed at having to, "With looks like that, that wouldn't be too hard to imagine."
"Oh, no, I definitely would have heard about that," Brittany said, "Sammy learned from an early age that he couldn't keep his little crushes from me. He dated Allison Mockrie for a whole month, and thought I had no idea, but I knew from the start. It's not a girlfriend, I'll tell you that much."
"Good, now Jenna's heart can resume its beating," joked Lea, applying a layer of powder to her nose. Britt could see Jenna frowning in indignation in her mirror.
"And anyway, even if he hadn't told me it himself, you know how Kurt talks." Brittany stood up and took a step back, admiring her red and gold costume in the mirror. "Sam just gets like this sometimes. He'll shut himself away for days working on some, who-knows-what. Maybe he's got a really tough case…"
"Speaking of a tough case," said Amber from her position by the door, "Here comes Marv." Brittany sat back down and quickly got to looking busy with her hair, but actually just stared at the photo of her and Sam at their twenty-first birthday party, both of them laughing and holding beer bottles high in celebration. Not that that was really the first time they'd ever drank a beer, but they had to act like it, for Mom and Dad's sake.
The Blondie twins, they'd been called by almost every member of their family, and it was true. From birth, both of the Pierce children had been almost blindingly fair-haired, though it had darkened quite considerably with age, his more than hers.
"And how is my star?" asked the unmistakable voice of Marv. Brittany could see him standing behind her in the mirror, all but leering as the dancer picked up a brush and began to run it through her hair. "You put out a great performance out there, though it did take you a little long to get offstage. See something out there?"
"No," she lied, putting down the brush and readjusting her headband, "Just a little more attention hungry tonight, I guess."
"Ah, I see," the manager said, grabbing a stand of Britt's hair and twisting it lightly in his fingers. Brittany pulled it away almost immediately, and Marv's eyes hardened slightly. "Well, don't let it all go to your head, Baby, or ya might find yourself back in the corner." Marv turned to address the entire room. "C'mon, ladies, double time, next show's in ten!"
A few minutes later, as the girls headed out to the stage, Brittany made sure to be the first one on-stage. That would give her a few moments to take a quick peek through the curtain…
Just as she expected, the woman was still there, sipping on a martini. She was wearing a tight fitting black dress with a red waist, and heels that must have been six inches, maybe even seven. She was alone at her table, and every once in a while her gaze would wander, as if she was searching for something…
Brittany felt a hand around her arm as she was pulled back to stand with the other girls. "You crazy?" whispered Lea, "Do you know what Marv would do if he saw you pulling shit like that? Gee, Britt, maybe all this attention is going to you head."
Brittany nodded an apology and headed to take her spot in line. Fame wasn't getting to her head, no, but something certainly was…
Two hours and two shows later, Brittany sat backstage once again. She was nearly alone, except for Lea, who was still in the midst of removing her stage makeup. She slipped on her flats, leaned back in the chair, and let loose a loud yawn, which she could see caused Lea to take a look over in her direction, though the dancer said nothing and instead just continued to remove her cosmetics.
That woman had been there for all three shows, Britt had noticed, and no one had ever joined her at her table. It was almost creepy, she thought, the way that she'd felt the gaze so intensely, as if somehow the woman had tethered herself to Brittany by her eyes. Frankly, it had her worried.
Sighing, she checked the clock in the corner of the room. Ten-thirty. She glanced down at Lea, who was no putting on her own shoes. "Hey, Lee. Wanna walk out together?"
"Sure thing, Britt," the dance replied, reaching under the vanity to find her purse. She slung it over her shoulder and walked over to Brittany, who pulled her own bag out as well. She rummaged through it for a second until she found what she'd been looking for. The dense red plastic of the pepper spray comforted her somehow. It would be best to have a way to defend herself if things did get creepy. "Packing the heat, I see."
Brittany chuckled, running her thumb over the can. "Hey, you never know." She turned back to the mirror, and after sparing a few seconds to glance at the photo of her and her brother, she flicked off the vanity's lights and turned back to her colleague. "Let's go."
Though it was already May, the air was still quite chilled when the dancers let themselves out the door that led to the alley behind Stix. Brittany found herself wishing that she'd had the foresight to bring a jacket.
Even though the alley seemed deserted, it was not exactly quiet, with the loud music from the club pumping out a bass beat. Brittany took a moment to imagine the club patrons inside, dancing and having fun. Maybe the woman was still inside, bumping and grinding in perfect time to the music, surrounded by admirers male and female, all of them wishing for just one soft, sensual touch…
Brittany felt herself stumble and let out a cry of surprise as she pitched forward and felt Lea's hand grab her around her arm. She let the other dancer steady her. "You okay, Britt. What the hell was that, I've never seen you trip. Not even during five a.m. rehearsal. Is something wrong, Brittany? Is it because you haven't seen Sam for a while, because I'm sure it's just…"
"No, no, I'm fine," Britt replied, pulling her arm away from the other girl, "It's nothing, really. I just tripped. Everything's okay…"
There was a low chuckle from somewhere in the shadows of the alley. "Oh, I'm not sure I would say that."
Brittany immediately raised her mace can into prime firing position, standing in front of Lea to shield the other dancer. "Whoever you are, you better stay back! I'm warning you, I've got this pepper spray, and so help me God, I'll use it."
A loud guffaw burst out from somewhere in the alley. Several guffaws, actually, Brittany noticed. "Sure thing, doll, sure thing." Someone emerged from the shadows, dressed in a trench coat and floppy brimmed hat that covered his face. He was short, she noted, almost coming only to her waist. "I'm certain that little can will do real damage to my buddies."
There was a loud noise from behind the girls, and Brittany whipped her head around to see two more assailants, similarly-attired and statured to the first. They each held a knife in one gloved hand. She turned back to the leader to find that he was packing more heat than the others. The silver of an old style revolver gleamed under the light from above the stage door. "That's right, hon. End of the line for you," the gun-toting mugger said smugly, "This'll teach your good for nothin' bro to think twice before…"
There was a dull thunk, and suddenly the assailant dropped face first to the ground. Brittany looked down to see the handle of a knife sticking from his back
When she looked back up again, she could see a figure, clearly and impressively female, in what looked like a red and white bodysuit, a hood pulled up to mask their rescuer's face.
"Britt, what… Hell's goin'… go on…" That was all Lea managed to get out before her eyes rolled back in her end and she fainted dead away, falling into Brittany's arms. She gently lowered her friend to the ground, then turned her head up to see the end of the confrontation.
Whoever it was in the suit certainly knew what she was doing. She took out one of the attackers with a graceful high kick to the face, and when the other came in for a stab, she grabbed his wrist and turned the blade away, then delivered a devastating elbow to the face. The blow caused the goon's wide brimmed hat to fly from his head, revealing the face.
Brittany almost wished she wasn't seeing it.
It was ugly and pinched, flaky. The nose was small and flat, like a pig's, and the ears were long and scaly, with pointed tips. But, most disconcertingly of all, it was green. Brittany almost couldn't believe her eyes. Whatever these mysterious muggers had been, they definitely weren't human. And they seemed to have some kind of argument with her brother. What had he gotten himself into? What had she gotten into?
Her savior quickly pulled a knife from a sheath on her hip, and with one quick motion, slashed the odd creature's throat, then moved quickly to the other, who was now beginning to sit up, and served him the same fate as his partner. Then, sheathing the knife, she turned to Brittany.
All of the sudden, Brittany found herself experiencing a familiar feeling. "It's… It's you!"
"Yeah, it's me," her rescuer and possible stalker replied, reaching up and throwing back her hood. She was even more beautiful up close.
And, judging from the dead creatures laying all around the alley, more dangerous too. "Those.. those things…"
"Goblins. Pretty nasty, but not exactly top hitters."
"Uh, right," Brittany stumbled over her words, and the woman in front of her shifted her hips and crossed her arms, obviously getting impatient with her stumbling, "These, um, goblins, they, they said something about my brother. Is he in trouble?"
"Yeah, he is," the woman answered, shifting her eyes towards the ground and sounding almost forlorn, "But we don't think it hasn't anything to do with these losers." She stepped forward and extended her hand. "But regardless, you need to come with me."
Brittany shifted uncomfortably on her knees. "Uh…"
"Oh, come on, I just saved your well-coordinated ass," her rescuer said, exasperated, throwing up her hands in frustration, "I think I deserve a little bit of the ole benefit of the doubt. Besides, you're gonna be in even more trouble once these guys' boss figures out this hit was a failure."
Brittany paused, still not sure. "It's okay, Britt, she's on the up and up."
Brittany turned at the sound of the familiar voice. Standing at the mouth of the alley in an undoubtedly designer sweatervest and shirt combo, along with black slacks and boots shined to perfection, which matched perfectly with the leather gloves on his hands, was someone she'd known for a little over a year, but regardless was quite close to. "Kurt?" she asked, wondering what her brother's secretary was doing here.
"There are gonna be some bad people after you, but she's not one of them," Kurt assured her, stepping closer, the half-inch heels of his boots clicking as he walked, "We need to go."
Britt spared a glance at Lea's collapsed form. "What about her?"
"The gobs will be taken care of by the time she comes to," the woman explained, "But not if we don't beat feet outta here. The brownies have quite the complex about being seen."
"C'mon, Brittany," Kurt said, putting a hand on her shoulder and helping her to her feet, "Everything will be okay. Let's go."
Slowly, Brittany rose. When Kurt started to lead her away, she turned around to spare one last glance at Lea, lying peacefully on the ground. Her rescuer took one last look at the girl as well, then followed after Kurt.
They reached a small blue sports car not a minute later, and Kurt opened the door for her and smoothly helped her slide into the back seat. He got into the driver's seat, and his woman partner slid in next to him. With one last glance around, he turned the key and started the car.
"Where are we going?" Brittany asked, her eyes staying on the entrance to the alley until she could see it no more.
"My place," the woman said, opening a compact and checking her face in the mirror. The reflection of one smoldering brown eye stared back at her. "The name's Santana Lopez, by the way, but you can just call me Santana. I figure if you're going to be going all 'Anne Frank' in my apartment, we might as well be on a first name basis."
"Brittany," she replied. Santana nodded., and turned back to her reflection. Sensing that their conversation was over, she turned back to Kurt. "Those goblins said they were looking for Sam. Why?"
"Their boss has a bone to pick with your brother," Kurt explained, stopping at the red light in front of them, "Let's just say they're having a bit of a disagreement."
"Oh," Britt said quietly, wondering what her brother could be doing to attract the ire of goblins of all things, "Is he going to be at her apartment too?"
"Well, uh, see, here's the thing…"
"We don't know where he is either," Santana cut in bluntly, "In fact, damn near nobody does. He's been missing for the better part of a week. We've been looking for him at least two days, but so far nothing's turned up, from our side or the baddies."
"He's… He's just gone?"
"That's right. Completely off grid. And apparently undetectable, by means both mundane and magical."
"Magical?" Brittany asked. Surely this woman was joking. But then again, there were those goblins…
"Oh, that's right, you don't know, do you?" Santana said, turning around in her seat to face Brittany.
"Santana," Kurt said through clenched teeth, "Maybe we should wait until…"
But the latino woman paid him no mind. "Your brother's a wizard, kiddo. He's got magical powers, and most likely, you do too."