Dancing With Raven (The Young Shakespeareans Series)

by Rogers, S. G.

  “So what brings you two to Los Angeles?” Tori asked afterward.

  “Raven inspired us to try our luck in the film industry,” Felicia said.

  “But you have filmmakers in England, don’t you?” Deborah asked.

  “Yes, but there are many more opportunities here in the City of Angels,” Fletcher said.

  “Speaking of Raven, I never see him eating lunch,” Kirstin said. “I’m beginning to think he’s a vampire and doesn’t eat food.”

  Felicia giggled. “He’s in the weight room. Vampires don’t work out, so there goes your theory.”

  “Maybe he’s a werewolf instead,” Fletcher joked.

  “Raven hasn’t been here very long,” Tori said. “Some people are just not particularly outgoing.”

  “He’s made at least one friend.” Kirstin sneering attitude returned in full force. “He and Tori have been pretty tight.”

  Treacherous brat! “Raven and I are dance partners for movement class.” Shrug. “He’s nice enough.”

  Kirstin snickered. “I looked to me like he’s a good kisser.”

  “Really?” Felicia cocked her head, drilling Tori with her blue eyes. “You two are an item, then?”

  Tori forced herself to laugh. “Not at all. I was upset about something and he was very sweet to me about it. Like I said, he’s nice.”

  Kirstin snickered, exchanging significant looks with Jenny and Deborah. “Oops. Sorry if I spilled the beans.”

  “No beans to spill.” Tori focused on Fletcher in an attempt to change the subject. “You and Felicia were amazing in drama class this morning. I really enjoyed reading with you.”

  “You’re not a bad actress yourself,” he said.

  “I agree. I totally bought the innocent undercurrent you brought to the role,” Felicia said. “Good choice.”

  Fletcher’s sister is as nasty as Kirstin, albeit more subtle with her insults. What did Raven ever see in her? With an inward sigh, Tori glanced at the wall clock. How soon can I leave without making it obvious? She ate as quickly as she dared, gave an excuse about looking over an assignment, then made her way toward the weight room.

  With fifteen minutes until movement class began, Raven ducked into the lavatory to clean up after his workout. When he emerged, Tori was waiting for him. His anger flared.

  “What part of ‘be careful’ didn’t you understand? You need to avoid Fletcher, not flirt with him!”

  “I’ll do what I need to do to stay alive. He may already suspect the truth anyway because Kirstin told him about that kiss at the dance studio.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said you were just being nice to me after some bad news, but I don’t know if Fletcher bought it. I know Felicia didn’t.”

  “About Felicia…I was never intimate with her. We have a history, but she cheated on me before things got that far. I don’t think she’s capable of a serious relationship.”

  “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

  “Nevertheless, I wanted you to know. Listen, I’m sorry if my father and I have put you in danger. Please believe me, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

  “Raven, I’m scared…and not just about the Harringtons. This swarm of earthquakes is releasing demons from the underworld. I saw it with my own eyes yesterday.”

  He peered at her. “That’s not a good sign. Earthquakes supposedly increase in frequency and intensity just before the Apocalypse, when all Hell breaks loose.”

  Gasp. “Do you suppose the spirit world knows something we don’t know?”

  “Anything is possible.”

  Fear twisted her features, and he longed to draw her into a comforting embrace. “It’s likely just a natural swarm of quakes, Tori. We can’t know for certain. Let’s get to movement class before we’re late.”

  “I’ll see you over there. We shouldn’t be seen walking together.”

  “Smart girl. I’ll leave first.”

  After shouldering his book bag, he exited the facility. Despite his soothing words, he didn’t truly believe the quakes were a coincidence—particularly not when demons were being released as a result. Something malevolent is going on.

  Chapter Eleven

  Opposite Day

  WITH TWO NEW STUDENTS in movement class, Miss Castor and Mr. Boone decided to shuffle dance partners. Felicia Harrington was assigned to Raven, and Tori to Fletcher. As he joined Tori, Fletcher’s eyes lit with pleasure. “I bear a charmed life.”

  From the way he said it, Tori knew it was a quote. “What’s that from?”

  “The Scottish Play.”

  “You’re superstitious?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “Not especially.”

  “Then why do you wear that Celtic Shield knot amulet?”

  “Because it’s pretty.”

  “So are you.”

  The instructors went over the basics of the samba again. Tori was surprised at how quickly Fletcher caught on, and decided the Nephilim must all be gifted physically. As for Felicia, she appeared to need no instruction whatsoever. Fletcher followed Tori’s glance.

  “My sister was a three-time Junior Latin Ballroom champ,” he said. “As you can probably tell, I couldn’t be bothered.”

  “You’re not half bad.” As he’s well aware. “What were you doing while she was on the dance floor?”

  “Gymnastics. I had my eye on the Olympics, until I grew too tall. A stress fracture in my ankle ended my gymnastics career. I was rather bitter about it, actually. Still am, if truth be told. My parents are both drunks, so they were no help at all.”

  “It’s ironic how life presents twists and turns over which we have no control.”

  “The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.”

  “Hamlet. Even I know that one.”

  A smile. “My time in gymnastics wasn’t wasted. It gave me a beautiful physique. You’re welcome to judge for yourself, anytime. Clothing optional.”

  She erupted into giggles at his blatant obviousness. “I’ll take your word for it. Why didn’t Felicia continue with ballroom? From what I see, she could have had a stellar career.”

  Fletcher’s brows drew together and his normally effervescent manner became muted.

  “Um…it’s not a pretty story, actually. Two years ago, Felicia’s dance partner Nicholai committed suicide. He was only eighteen.”

  Tori froze in horror. “How horrible!”

  “His suicide note blamed his unrequited love for her. My sister changed after that.” He paused. “She even shut me out.”

  So Felicia’s shark-like exterior hid a morass of pain. Underneath it all, she’s the walking wounded just like everyone else.

  “I’m very sad for her,” Tori said. “What a tragedy.”

  “She doesn’t like to talk about it. In fact, if she knew I told you, my life would be forfeit.”

  The statement was overly dramatic, but she knew he was partly serious.

  “I’ll keep it to myself, I promise.”

  He nodded, “I’ve told you secrets. Now it’s your turn.”

  Not going to happen. “I don’t have any.”

  Fletcher’s eyes crinkled at the edges. “Fortunate indeed is the amorous swain who receives tender confidences from the rosy lips of a fair maid.”

  “And what’s that from?”

  “My own personal book of life. We just met, so it’s too soon to trust me. I understand.”

  They continued to work on the samba, but Tori was puzzled. He’s the strangest man I’ve ever met. She understood he had a hidden agenda, but what was the point of telling her his and Felicia’s most intimate secrets? Although her plan was to get him to like her, it was almost as if he was trying to do the same thing…but why? My refusal to exchange any personal information isn’t the friendliest thing to do.

  “I was orphaned when I was eight years old,” she blurted out. “A car accident. I suppose I’m a little wary of strangers because of it. And very recently I was told
by one of the most preeminent choreographers in modern times I’m too tall to be a classical ballerina. I still haven’t come to grips with that.”

  His expression softened. “Thank you for telling me. We’re officially friends now.”

  “Good. I’m glad.” More than you know.

  After the last bell, Raven felt as if he’d been trampled by a herd of demonic buffalo. The stress of the day had been almost more than he could stand, and he was starved from skipping lunch. He flagged Fletcher and Felicia down as they were heading out of the classroom.

  “So where are you going to be living while you’re in L.A?”

  Raven’s inquiry was not prompted by politeness, but by his wish to avoid their general vicinity. The Harringtons exchanged a glance.

  “We’re not sure, actually,” Felicia replied. “Grandpapa is sending a car to pick us up.”

  “We might be heading to a more permanent residence…or back to the hotel in Bel Air,” Fletcher said.

  Since Raven was unlikely to go anywhere near Bel Air, he was satisfied. He walked with the twins toward the parking lot, where their limo was waiting. Although he scanned the rows of cars, he didn’t see Tori’s compact anywhere. I guess she left for dance class already. Disappointed, Raven prepared to mount his motorcycle.

  Fletcher crossed over. “That’s your motorbike?”

  “Yeah. Dad gave it to me over the holidays as a birthday present.”

  As Fletcher looked the motorcycle over more closely, Raven imagined Felicia inside the limo, rolling her eyes in frustration. To his surprise, her door swung open and she joined them.

  “Nice.” She ran her hands over the fairing. “Wasn’t the Indian motorcycle Steve McQueen’s first motorbike?”

  Raven was taken aback. “I’m surprised you know that.”

  “Who is Steve McQueen?” Fletcher asked.

  “Only the coolest American actor ever,” Raven said. “Didn’t you ever see The Great Escape?”

  “Is he the chap who tried to jump the fence while the Nazis were bearing down?”

  “The very same,” Felicia said. “I want one.”

  “Steve McQueen or the motorbike?” Fletcher said.

  Her withering glance was his reward. Bickering, they returned to the limo and Raven sighed with relief. I’m going to have a Harrington-free evening, and hopefully an entirely Harrington-free weekend. His stomach contracted with hunger again, so he decided to stop at a fast food hamburger establishment on the way home. While he wolfed down a freshly grilled juicy cheeseburger, he wondered whether to head over to the dance studio to watch Tori’s class. Reluctantly, he rejected the notion. Tattletale Kirstin would probably broadcast his presence to anyone who would listen. Killing that imp didn’t improve her disposition all that much.

  Feeling slightly forlorn, he wove his way through the traffic-choked streets, wondering what his father could tell him about Lord Birmingham’s inopportune visit. I certainly have plenty to tell Dad about the twins. When he rolled past the Blackfriars gates, his expectations for a relaxing evening were squashed. An uncomfortably familiar limo was parked in the motor court, its hood still warm. What are Fletcher and Felicia doing here?

  The aromatic scent of fine cuisine tickled his nostrils when he walked through the front door. To his astonishment, a uniformed butler approached.

  “Quigley!” Raven exchanged an enthusiastic handshake with the older man. “When did you get here?”

  “It’s good to see you, sir. Mrs. Trumbull and I arrived this morning. Dinner will be served at six o’clock. Boeuf bourguignon, with Yorkshire pudding.”

  “Excellent! Nothing holds a candle to Mrs. Trumbull’s boeuf bourguignon.”

  With a bow, the butler excused himself to return to his duties. Before Raven could blink, he caught sight of Felicia on her way down the stairs. She was barefoot and had changed from her school clothes into a pair of yoga pants and a sweater.

  “This is a great place you have here,” she said. “Guess what? Your father and Grandpapa worked everything out. Fletcher and I are going to be living with you!”

  Although Raven heard Felicia’s words, he couldn’t believe his ears. Is this a joke…or perhaps it’s opposite day? Dad couldn’t have agreed to this.

  She pouted. “I must say, you seem rather displeased.”

  “Where’s my father?”

  “In the library with Grandpapa.”

  Raven dropped his backpack on the entryway table and strode toward the library, where Lord Birmingham and Ian were having an aperitif.

  “Good evening, Lord Birmingham. Dad, might I have a word?”

  Ian excused himself and followed Raven out into the hallway.

  “I know what you’re thinking—” Ian began.

  “I expect you don’t!” Raven’s voice was no louder than a whisper, but his intensity was crystal clear. “I spent all day with the Harringtons breathing down my neck, and now I discover we’re housemates! How are we supposed to safeguard anything now?” Although he used the word anything, he meant Tori. With the enemy so near, however, he was reluctant to utter her name out loud.

  “Lord Birmingham has convinced me preparations are already underway amongst shadow world populace to usher in the Apocalypse. I don’t know how Tori was discovered, or by whom, but he’s here to help safeguard her.”

  “How can we trust him when he’s threatened to kill her?”

  “I believe all that was a misunderstanding, but I’ll let him explain. You, Fletcher, and Felicia are to meet with us in the library at half past five. Get changed and I’ll see you then.”

  Grumbling inwardly, Raven turned on his heel, grabbed his backpack, and mounted the stairs. As he passed the first bedroom on the right, he glimpsed a shirtless Fletcher standing next to a large travel trunk and matching suitcases. “Hullo, Raven!”

  Reluctantly, Raven paused.

  “I don’t suppose you’d switch bedrooms with me?” Fletcher said. “I rather enjoyed the view from your window better.”

  “You were in my room?” Raven was appalled.

  “Only long enough to see if I liked it.”

  “Bite me.”

  Ever obliging, Fletcher snapped his teeth like a turtle. “Oh, and you needn’t be concerned your virtue will be compromised. Felicia’s bedroom is located in the other wing of the house.”

  “What a relief.”

  With a curl of his lip, Raven continued to his room at the end of the long hallway. Nothing would ever convince him to trust Fletcher or Felicia, or make him think this new living arrangement was a good idea. I can’t believe Fletcher snooped in my room! As he lowered his backpack to the ground, he was glad he’d made the bed that morning. Unfortunately, a pair of underwear hadn’t quite landed in the laundry basket where he’d tossed them the night before. Oh, well. It seemed the Harringtons were going to be privy to all the Cassidy family’s dirty laundry, not just a stray pair of his briefs.

  At the appointed time, Raven trooped downstairs, feeling as if a storm cloud was hanging over his head. His father and Lord Birmingham were chatting near the fireplace when he entered the library, and the twins—smugness personified—had settled themselves on a sofa. Although Raven didn’t feel like sitting, his father gestured toward a chair.

  Birmingham cleared his throat. “First, let me be clear about one thing, Ian. Gerald and Hannah took the proper preventative action by disappearing. If they’d asked me, I would have helped them do exactly that. I liked the Arthurs very much and I’m grateful you rendered them your assistance.”

  Raven’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you wouldn’t have killed the Leap Day child?”

  “I would never have contemplated such an atrocity.” The expression of revulsion of Birmingham’s face seemed genuine. “That being said, there might have been Shakespeareans in other chapters or religious zealots who might have entertained more drastic viewpoints.”

  Despite Birmingham’s assertion, Raven wasn’t about to let down his guard. “If you’r
e not here to kill the Leap Year child, why did you come?”

  “We’re here for the same reason you are, lad. To protect the girl.”

  Raven shot his father a startled glance, which Birmingham observed.

  “No, Ian didn’t breathe a word of her identity, I can assure you,” he said. “I asked Felicia and Fletcher to study photos of the Arthurs, and asked them to identify likely candidates from amongst your friends.”

  “Tori Moss is the very image of her mother,” Fletcher said. “I recognized the similarity immediately.”

  “And your supposed indifference to the most beautiful girl in the school was confirmation of it,” Felicia said. “Although admittedly, it was an excellent act.”

  “True. Your attitude actually threw me for a little while,” Fletcher admitted. “But when she joined you in the weight room after lunch, I was convinced.”

  “You followed her?”

  “Naturally,” Felicia said.

  “By the way, what did you mean by telling Tori not to flirt with me?” Fletcher asked.

  “Furthermore, all my relationships are serious—until they’re not,” Felicia said. “You above anyone should know that, Raven.”

  He bristled. “How dare you eavesdrop on my private conversation!”

  “Enough bickering!” Birmingham exclaimed. “We’ve identified chatter amongst the denizens indicating the Apocalypse is near. Somebody else has identified Tori as the Leap Day child and is preparing to sacrifice her on the first of March.”

  “Who?” Raven, Fletcher, and Felicia spoke at the same time.

  “We don’t know yet, but the seismic activity confirms it. In addition, the Los Angeles basin is slowly filling with demons who are awaiting the big moment. Other Shakespearean chapters have become aware of it, and are requesting a meeting with me in London. I’ll be flying back on Monday, attempting to assuage their fears. If I don’t succeed, we’ll have them to deal with as well.”

  “We’ve got to figure out who is targeting Tori and stop them,” Raven said. “Do we have any clues at all?”