“Whoa,” Lance said, then pushed his glasses up on his nose.
“I’m pretty sure that kind of thing is illegal where we’re from,” I offered.
Dante grinned. “We’re definitely not in Evanston anymore.”
“She’s gorgeous,” Sabine whispered, wistful. “Don’t you feel like you have to be absolutely perfect to have that hair?” She pulled back her lustrous locks and mugged. “I would kill to look good with that cut, but I could never, ever do it.”
“You totally could,” I assured her as we began walking again. I was secretly glad that I wasn’t the only one who could feel intimidated like that. I felt unsettled by beautiful things for so many reasons, a reflex after my time at the Lexington. “You would look great.”
“Really?” Sabine sounded truly touched. I nodded. She looped her arm in mine. “So would you!” I didn’t even care if she meant it or whether it was true. It was just nice to hear.
We all walked on together silently those last few blocks to Royal Street. The house pulsed with activity when we returned—the TV blared in the living room, music and conversation trickled out of a couple of open bedroom doors, someone foraged for snacks in the kitchen. Our group split into three pairs, all of us retiring to our respective rooms, exhausted by what we’d seen tonight.
I let Sabine go ahead and said good night to Lance at his doorway—Dante had already gone inside.
“You know you can stay in here if you want, right? Or . . .” He didn’t finish his thought and what he managed to get out he said with a halting awkwardness.
“Yeah. Thanks,” I said. The truth was, I didn’t want to be alone. I would’ve liked nothing more than to just drift off to sleep in Lance’s arms. But on our first night in this new place, I didn’t want to be that girl who was spotted leaving a guy’s room at some strange hour of the morning. “I feel like I’d better be in my own bed. First night and all.”
“Yeah, no, got it, I figured,” he said, agreeing too eagerly. “Good thinking.” He kissed me good night and I could feel him watch me walk to my room before retreating into his.
He’s supercute,” Sabine said with a mischievous smile when I returned. “Well done, you!”
“Thanks,” I said, with a little laugh.
“You’ve been dating how long?” She pulled on sweatpants and a tee as I changed into a pair of my aquamarine scrubs, relieved to be out of my heels.
“Just a few months, but friends for a while.”
“Cute,” she said. “I dated a friend once . . .” I waited for more but she didn’t seem anxious to offer it up so I let it go. She took in my outfit. “Are you on call tonight?” she joked, tying her hair back and taking a seat at the desk as I hung up my clothes.
“New Year’s is one of the most dangerous holidays,” I quipped. “Old volunteer job. It’s actually where I met Connor. It’s a long story but—”
“Omigod, me too!” she interrupted. “I mean, I wasn’t exactly saving lives. It was an ice cream shop on the Cape.” She shook her head, as though details weren’t that important. “But, you know, he came in a couple times or whatever.”
“Seriously?” I asked. She nodded, seeming to be excited by this odd coincidence. I didn’t know why I felt disappointed. Secretly, I kind of liked the idea that Connor had seen something special in me and told me to apply for the program. I wished that I didn’t need that kind of reassurance, but sometimes it’s just nice to feel wanted. “That’s really funny.” It came out more flatly than I would have liked.
“Anyway, he’s a mint chocolate chip guy,” Sabine said.
“Good to know.”
“I’m totally dying to know where we’re working first,” she said as she searched in her bag. “Do you have any idea?” She pulled out her phone and gave it a look, scrolling.
“No.” I drifted off in thought for a moment. The idea sent the slightest shiver down my spine, as I recalled my last boss, the stunning and lethal Aurelia Brown. I couldn’t imagine what tomorrow would bring.
“Awww.” She smiled at her phone then quickly flashed it at me: it was a photo of a handful of girls in someone’s living room, a HAPPY NEW YEAR banner behind them. The text message read Miss you!!!! “Weird not to be home tonight, right?” she asked, her thumbs tapping out a response.
“Yeah, I know,” I said, even though I didn’t exactly feel that I had missed out on anything. Back home, I still would have spent the evening with Lance and Dante; we just wouldn’t have been dressed as nicely.
“How late is it there?” she said to herself, thinking.
“Boston? It’s an hour back so, wow, like two?” I answered.
She nodded and began dialing. “Have you ever been to Boston?”
“No. For me it’s like there’s an electric fence keeping me in the Midwest. It’s amazing I managed to convince Joan to let me go this far.”
“I think it’s so cool that you call your mom Joan.” I had told Sabine I was adopted, but that’s all she knew, and really all she needed to. I was good at not sharing a whole lot about my past. “Anyway, it’s a great town. You have to visit. We’re just outside of it, but it’s a short ride in to Newbury Street, all the good shopping.” She put the phone to her ear. “Hey you! Happy New Year! How are you?! . . . I know, I just got it. So cute!” Moonlight trickled in from outside our window, reflecting off the glossy-white wraparound balcony. Might as well give her privacy. I unlocked the latch, pushing the window open. I sat on the sill and then just scooted my legs over to the other side to climb out. The air had grown chillier and I felt the goose bumps rise on my skin. I could still hear the dull roar of Bourbon Street in the distance.
“You know there’s a door right there?” someone yelled from part of the balcony diagonally across the courtyard, an arm waving. I leaned over the railing and could see him in the hazy light. Connor. I waved back. He pointed off somewhere to my left. I looked over to a door that must’ve been located at the end of our hallway.
“Yeah, you know, I don’t like to make things too easy,” I called back.
“I like that about you,” he answered, then, with another wave, said, “Night!” He turned and let himself in through a similar door over on his side of the building. Muffled voices from another section of the balcony traveled my way. It was dark over there, but I could see two figures sitting, talking, and watching the courtyard below. Above them, the third story of the mansion next door loomed over our more modest home, like a bully in the shadows.
“Get a room down there!” shouted one of the people from across the way.
I leaned over and spied two figures entwined on the chaise. I squinted to see who it might be. Two faces looked skyward, and both bodies sprang up and scurried inside.
Behind me the window whooshed open. “Hey!” Sabine said. “Whatcha doin’ out here?”
“I do believe I just witnessed the first dorm hookup.”
“No way.” She stomped her foot in mock outrage. “I’m jealous. Get in here and give me the scoop. You can fill me in while we fight over the beds. Don’t know about you but I’m totally zonked,” she said.
I climbed back in and we negotiated the most equitable division of sleeping arrangements possible: A coin toss determined that I got the loft. We both nestled in and turned off our bedside lamps.
“Next project,” she said, yawning in the darkness. “I think we’ve gotta decorate somehow, you know? Maybe hit those antique stores nearby, find something fun?”
“Did you see the one with the giant, like, stone camel in the front window?” I asked, laughing.
“Perfect,” she said, though I knew she was only kidding. “Night.”
“G’night.” I lay on my back, my eyes wide open. This was the least tired I’d felt all day. If I hadn’t had a roommate, I likely would’ve flipped the light back on and tried to read, but that didn’t seem like a nice thing to do on our first night here. Much as I’d tried to push it aside all night, now all I could see when I closed my eyes was the i
mage of the Prince. Or Lucian becoming the Prince.
Through the sheer, gauzy curtain shrouding the front of the lofted space, I was at just the right height and angle to see the full moon shimmering outside the window. I locked on to it, glad for any bit of light to illuminate those dark places now in my mind, and I hoped its peacefulness would cocoon around me.
Then I saw it and bolted straight up in bed.
A low glow flickered in the top corner window of the mansion next door and a light sparked on. It hadn’t been there before—I would have noticed it while I was outside. It had only just gone on. I crawled forward on my bed and slid open the curtain in a quick whoosh. Below, I heard Sabine roll over, then deep breaths of sleep followed. Leaning forward now, I could make out a shadow. Someone stood in the window next door. But before I could see anything more clearly, the light went out again. I stared at that darkened window, waiting, unable to move. Finally, after many minutes, I slipped back under the covers, pulling them tight around me.
5. Everything Okay in Here?
I managed to doze off at some point, but my sleep couldn’t be called restful. It was more a series of nightmares, except they all happened in real life: my mind replayed a loop of every horrific event I’d encountered during my first test of angelhood. Every moment—and there were a lot of them—when I had narrowly cheated death. Every poisoning, every fire bolt launched my way, every one of those beautiful, evil creatures I’d had to battle. My skin could still feel their hot claws on me. My heart remembered the ferocity of its beating when a pack of them had stolen into my bedroom to attack me. That’s when my eyes finally sprang open.
I peeked at my alarm clock: almost five o’clock. Outside the sky was still inky black, just the slightest ribbon of midnight blue creeping up from the horizon. Sabine was sleeping peacefully. It was still too dark to read, so I grabbed the book from my night table, crept down the ladder, and, not bothering to change out of my scrubs, quietly let myself out of the room.
The stark emptiness and pure silence of the hallway did nothing to settle my frayed nerves. But as I turned the corner, I caught the clang of silverware and the vacuum swoosh of the refrigerator being opened. I smoothed my hair and poked my head into the kitchen just as Connor turned around.
“Whoa!” he said, startled, almost losing the two-liter bottle of diet soda tucked under one arm, and the steaming cup of ramen noodles and the apple in his hands.
“Sorry. Hi,” I said, also sorry that I hadn’t bothered to get dressed. He looked sufficiently messy himself, but wore it well, from his fresh-from-bed hair sticking up every which way and heavy-lidded eyes to his mesh soccer shorts and a fraternity T-shirt with a ripped sleeve.
“Haven. Hey, didn’t expect to see anyone up this early. I’ve got a paper due. What’s your excuse?” He crunched into his apple.
“Just, you know, in the middle of a good book.” I held it up. It could’ve been the truth.
“I like a girl who gets up early to read. That says something about you, you know?” He nodded in praise. “I knew what I was doing when I drafted you at the hospital.”
“Yeah, guess so,” I said, thinking about how he also had recruited Sabine but saying nothing.
“Anyway, make yourself at home. And just lemme know if you need anything.” He waved his apple as a goodbye.
I leaned against the counter, thinking, then called out, “Connor?”
He popped his head back in.
I did my best to sound nonchalant. “So what’s the deal with the house next door?”
“Ahhh, the haunted one?” he asked, in a loaded way. “The LaLaurie pad? The tourists love it, of course. But it’s just some well-marketed folklore. Nothing to worry about.”
“No, totally, I know,” I said, trying too hard to sound cool. “So is it, like, abandoned?”
“Right now, yeah. But actually it’s gonna get fixed up soon. Some of you guys will be working on it, as one of the group projects.”
“Right. Thanks.”
“House meeting at nine o’clock,” he reminded me, then ambled down the hall, polishing off his apple. I poked around inside the fridge and opened the cupboards in the hopes that some sort of comfort food would appear and soothe me. I found some of those single-serve packs of Oreos, like Joan used to put in my lunches in grade school, and couldn’t resist tearing one open.
That’s when I heard the scream. It came from somewhere out front: a male voice, deep, expletive-laced, accompanied by rattling metal. Then footsteps running through the hall. I lunged out of the kitchen.
“You heard it too?” Connor asked. I nodded. “Stay here.” He jogged down the mirrored hall to the back entranceway.
Despite his instruction, I trailed behind him. The sun had only just begun its ascent, the sky brightening to a deep indigo as we clomped down the wooden staircase to the courtyard and through the lantern-lit archway to the locked front gate. One of the guys from our house, the one I had seen yesterday with a basketball, stood there, hands clasping the metal bars, trying to get in.
Connor slowed his pace, his alarm lessening. “Jimmy, dude, what’s the deal? What’re ya doin’ out here?”
“You gotta let me in. Lemme in, lemme in!” He was frantic.
“Where’re your keys? If you lost ’em already, we’re gonna have to charge you,” Connor said, unhitching the lock and opening up. I hung back in the shadows of the archway.
“Call nine-one-one,” Jimmy said. He raced in, letting the gate crash. He ran right past us.
“What are you talking about?” Connor called out to him.
Jimmy paused just a moment, shouting back from the courtyard, “There’s a body out there. An eff-ing body!” We could hear him stumbling up the steps and slamming the door. Connor and I stood stunned in the lantern-lit haze. He sighed and scratched at the back of his head, like he was psyching himself up, then unlocked the gate once more. Silently, he stepped out onto Royal Street, as I followed a few paces behind.
By the time I reached the sidewalk, he was walking back toward me stone-faced. With a firm voice, he ordered: “Haven, go back upstairs.”
It was too late. My eyes flashed to the ground, and a scream, involuntary and raw, escaped my lips. My hand rose to my mouth. In front of our house lay a battered body in a pool of blood. Much as the sight shook my every nerve, I still couldn’t manage to look away. The victim looked like he could’ve been a college student, or someone we’d seen last night at the welcoming party or run into celebrating with the masses as we shuffled home. He wore jeans and a T-shirt with the remnants of a hooded sweatshirt in tatters around him. In the brightening morning light, as the city still slept, our block felt so tranquil, not the kind of place you would expect to find this. It just didn’t belong. The asphalt of Royal Street had been hosed down since last night, all traces of the evening carousing wiped clean.
Connor pushed me back, away from the scene. “C’mon, we’re going back upstairs,” he said. I took one last look and something glinted back at me. Just beside the man’s flung-out arm, some kind of wispy plumage, a few white feathers, had gotten matted to the ground, blood working as the adhesive.
So, there’s a midnight curfew here now. And you just have to keep your wits about you. New Orleans is a great place, but it’s still a big and wild city,” Connor said with a furrowed brow and in a voice that made him seem much older than he actually was. “Be smart, guys. And if you need anything, I’m here.”
The meeting in the common room had begun much differently than anyone had anticipated. We were all ready to start the day, seated on the sofas and chairs and floor, with notebooks and pens and, now, serious expressions.
Some residents had continued to sleep through all the commotion of the morning. Others had awoken to witness the cops outside talking into radios and unfurling that bright yellow crime-scene tape; the body was finally sheathed and taken away.
Sabine had still been sleeping when I got back to the room, and my knocks on Lance and Dante�
��s door had been met with silence, so I had busied myself getting showered and dressed until I could finally talk to someone about what had happened. When we had all convened for the meeting, there hadn’t been nearly enough catch-up time. Lance had only managed to whisper, “Check your phone,” before Connor had launched in. I knew exactly which phone he meant.
Connor seemed understandably anxious to be done with this unfortunate discussion. “It’s easy to get into trouble in this town, take it from me. But . . . just, you know, be careful.” He paused. “So, are we all good? Any questions or anything?” He scanned the room. No one moved; we all just stared blankly. “Okay, well, I’m here to talk anytime.” He sighed. “I know it’s a pretty horrific welcome, and I’m sorry for that, but we’re gonna be fine.” He picked up a stack of papers at his feet. “All right, so let’s try to remember why we’re here: voluntourism. When I come at ya, tell us your name and where you’re from.” He made his way around the room, handing out thick stapled information packets as we introduced ourselves to the group.
Finally, Connor returned to the front of the room. “Great, so here’s the deal: there’s no shortage of community service to be done in this town. We’re gonna mix things up and let y’all lend a hand doing everything from tutoring and peer counseling to running trips for kids and building some homes for Hurricane Katrina victims who are still living in temporary quarters. You’ll find a schedule in here.” He held up the leftover packets. “Every day’ll be a little different, but no day will be boring. You’ll be all over the place, from way out in the bayou to as close as next door—where some of you will be fixing up that old LaLaurie mansion. The city’s turning it into an event space—”
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