Dance of Shadows (Dance of Shadows - Trilogy)

by Black, Yelena

  Zep lowered his voice. “Is that revealing too much?”

  “A little,” she teased. “If I had known you were looking for me, I would have made myself easier to find.”

  Zep gave her a daring smile. “What did you think I’ve been doing all weekend?”

  “Leading a life of mystery and intrigue, I suppose,” Vanessa said. She had no idea what Zep did in his free time. “Whisking girls away to beautiful cafés where you win their hearts by ordering them the perfect dessert.”

  “No,” Zep said with a laugh. “I only do that with you.” He stepped closer. “But does that mean that I won your heart?”

  “You seem to know me better than I know myself. Why don’t you tell me?”

  “If only I could,” he said.

  “So now that you have me alone, what do you want to do with me?”

  A glimmer of surprise flickered over Zep’s face. He inched closer until his fingers were barely touching hers. Leaning in, he traced his finger along the spine of her book.

  “What I was thinking of isn’t exactly right for the library.”

  Vanessa trembled as he slammed the book shut and stood up.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he said, and held out his hand.

  Vanessa couldn’t remember what happened next, only the feeling of Zep’s hand around hers as they slipped through campus and into an empty studio. She laughed as Zep ran a finger down her arm and then closed the door behind them, turning on only the far lights so most of the studio was still dark.

  Vanessa dropped her bag on the floor and twirled into a delirious pirouette before she sat down. As she pulled her pointe shoes out of her bag, Zep came up behind her.

  “May I?” he said softly.

  Vanessa swallowed, then nodded.

  Gently, Zep took her leg in his hand. He slid off one sandal, then the other. Her slippers looked delicate and small beneath his hands, the ribbons tangling around his fingers. He lifted her right foot and slipped the shoe on, his grip soft as he wrapped the ribbons up her ankles.

  “Too tight?” he said, tying them in a knot.

  Vanessa shook her head, unable to speak.

  When he was finished, he put on his own shoes and held out his hand. Vanessa’s long hair was tied in a loose braid, and Zep grazed a wisp of it with his fingers. “The Firebird,” he whispered.

  “I don’t know all the steps,” Vanessa said.

  “That’s okay,” he said, his voice gentle. “Just follow my lead.”

  Suddenly, she was in his arms, his broad hands firm against her waist. Their feet wove together, sliding across the floor as if it were natural, as if it weren’t a dance at all, but a long, tender caress. The smell of his skin, his sweat, surrounded her as she leaped across the studio, fanning her arms as she spun. She began to lose herself; she couldn’t stop it. The mirrors seemed to warp as time slowed, bending everything in the room except Zep, who reached out and caught her just before she collapsed.

  “Vanessa.” He pulled her close to him.

  She blinked, the room returning to her. “Zep.” She could feel his chest expanding and contracting against her thin dress.

  Zep ran his fingers across her cheek. “You’re breathtaking.”

  Vanessa shivered.

  Zep lifted her chin. “You’re alive, angry, passionate. You’re not dancing, you’re living. I can see it in your eyes.”

  Vanessa stared at her reflection in his eyes. “Really?” she replied.

  Instead of answering, Zep pulled her toward him and ran his hand up her spine. Something inside her grew faint as he pressed her body against his. Vanessa closed her eyes. His strong hands tightened around her waist, pulling her closer, when the door cracked open. A ray of light shone across the floor, followed by a shadow of a boy. Justin.

  She could feel Zep grow rigid beneath her fingers. And then, to her surprise, he moved away from her. Only an inch, but it was just enough space for the light to shine across her face, revealing her to Justin. As if Zep wanted Justin to see her.

  Justin tilted his head as the realization of what he had interrupted spread across his face. Vanessa watched as his expression softened into sadness, as if she had somehow let him down. And for reasons she couldn’t explain, she suddenly felt guilty.

  Even though she hated Justin, even though everything about him made her want to scream, she wanted to call out to him. To explain to him why she was here with Zep and what they were doing. But she didn’t.

  For a moment, Justin stood there, watching them. And then, without a word, he left. Vanessa lowered her eyes as the door slammed shut behind him, repeating itself in every mirror on the wall.

  Chapter Twelve

  Vanessa didn’t tell anyone. How could she when she wasn’t even sure it had been real? Zep wasn’t her boyfriend, and she had to admit to herself that in many ways, he was still very much a stranger.

  She didn’t know what he did or where he was when he wasn’t with her. She didn’t even have a way to get in touch with him other than Facebook. Besides, the mystery was part of his appeal. Zep was the epitome of movement—a flash of him here, another flash there, and then he was gone, leaving Vanessa with nothing but the memory of his body moving with hers. And she wanted more.

  She went through the rest of the week in a daze, listening to her teachers lecture in class, but all she could hear was Zep’s breath as he danced. She sat with her friends in the library, but only stared at her book. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way her body had felt in Zep’s arms. Even now, she couldn’t help but glance at the bookshelves where Zep had stood just days before, the wood dark as if his shadow were lingering there.

  “Are you okay?” Steffie asked, putting down her highlighter.

  “Yeah,” Vanessa said. “What makes you think I’m not?”

  “Because you haven’t turned the page in twenty minutes. And you barely said anything at breakfast. What’s going on with you?”

  Vanessa hesitated. Had Zep really pressed her to his body, his hand sliding down her back? She could almost feel it, and yet now, in the daylight, it seemed unreal. After Justin had left, the room deflated, and all the electricity that had just passed between Zep and Vanessa seemed to fizzle out. Though neither said a word about it, they both knew they couldn’t finish their dance, not then. So instead, Zep picked up Vanessa’s things, his hand grazing hers but not holding it as he walked her outside. That’s when Vanessa realized how delicate it all was. She worried that if she tried to say what had happened out loud, it would just vanish into thin air.

  She glanced across the table. TJ had earplugs in and was busy taking notes from her history book, and Blaine was reading, bobbing to music from his headphones.

  Steffie tapped her fingers on the table. “So … ?”

  Vanessa lowered her voice. “Sunday in the library, I ran into Zep.”

  Blaine slipped off one headphone. “What’s going on?”

  “Oh, nothing,” Vanessa said quickly, giving Steffie a look that said shh! The last thing she wanted to do was to share her secret with Blaine. “I’m just a little out of it today.” And she spent the rest of the afternoon buried in her book.

  When they returned, the dormitory was unnaturally quiet. Even the common room was deserted.

  “I don’t like this,” Blaine said as they peered around the corner of the kitchen, which was also empty. “It feels like orientation night all over again.”

  “Look,” TJ said. She pointed out the window at two girls from their floor, who were running across the plaza as if they were late.

  “Why are they in such a rush?” Steffie said. “Classes are over.”

  A few moments later, a boy named Paul from their dance class also ran across the plaza. He yelled something unintelligible to Jenny, an upperclassman, who was reading by the fountain. Immediately, she shut her book, stuffed it into her bag, and followed him. Vanessa watched them disappear through the glass doors of the studio building.

  “What is going
on?” she asked.

  Blaine slung his bag over his shoulder. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

  They ran outside and through the doors, into the foyer of the studio building. As they approached, they heard the hum of voices. The entryway was flooded with students, all gathered around a bulletin board.

  Vanessa peered over the heads, trying to see what everyone was staring at.

  “It’s the cast list,” a girl named Sandy said. “They posted it a day early.”

  “What?” Vanessa said. She saw Blaine already pushing his way through the crowd, TJ’s thick curls bouncing behind him. Beyond them, Vanessa could just make out the small piece of paper pinned to the board, dozens of fingers tracing the list, looking for their names.

  “This is so unfair!” an older girl shouted suddenly. Vanessa recognized her as one of Anna Franko’s friends, Laura.

  A hush fell over the room as Laura tore the list off the bulletin board, crumpled it, and threw it against the wall.

  The crowd parted as she turned, her face pinched with anger. Spotting Vanessa, standing by the edge of the crowd, she said, “I hope you’re happy,” and stormed off.

  The room went quiet. “Happy about what?” Steffie asked.

  Vanessa stared at the swinging door, confused. “I have no idea.”

  A sophomore near the front of the room reached for the cast list. She smoothed it out and pinned it up again.

  The students gathered around again, scanning the list for their names. “It’s all upperclassmen,” a boy said with a groan.

  Vanessa’s shoulders slumped. Some small part of her had hoped she would be cast. After all, hadn’t Josef told her she had potential? Hadn’t Zep said she was breathtaking?

  Vanessa ran a hand through her hair and backed out of the crowd.

  “Hey, where are you going?” Steffie said. “Don’t you want to see?”

  Vanessa shook her head. She was about to turn back to the dormitory when a girl from her floor glared at her before stalking away.

  “What?” Vanessa said, but the girl didn’t turn around. Next, two girls from her history class saw her and started whispering. Vanessa frowned, trying to ignore them, when a hand closed over her wrist, and TJ pulled her through the crowd.

  “What are you doing?” Vanessa said, trying to wriggle out of her grasp.

  “Just look,” TJ said, and pointed to the cast list.

  There, on the top, was Zeppelin Gray, cast as the male lead, Prince Ivan. Beside it was Vanessa Adler. The Firebird.

  It had to be a mistake. A typo. Maybe Vanessa was supposed to have been cast as one of the thirteen princesses, but surely not the Firebird. That’s what everyone was whispering in the halls, in the dressing rooms, in the dining hall and dormitory. And now that her initial fizzy feeling of elation had faded, Vanessa had to admit that she didn’t blame them; she could barely believe it either.

  “Seriously though,” TJ said later that evening. “How did you do it?”

  They were in her dorm room, Blaine leaning against TJ’s bedpost and Steffie sitting in Vanessa’s chair, her long legs propped up on the desk. Vanessa folded herself onto the bed.

  “You know you’re not going to be in rehearsal with us anymore,” Steffie said. “You’re going to be with the princesses now.”

  “Wait, really?” Vanessa said. It hadn’t even occurred to her that she would be separated from her friends.

  Steffie gave her a sympathetic look. “I think so,” she said. “Just you and Zep and Anna and all of her princess friends in the studio. Like one big happy family.”

  Anna. A lump formed in Vanessa’s throat as she thought about the prospect of being stuck with those girls.

  Blaine’s eyes grew wide, and he turned and said to TJ, “I wonder if she’ll get along with Anna.”

  “Highly unlikely,” TJ said to him. “I bet Anna is mortified. To have a freshman steal her role right out from under her, and then to be cast as the thirteenth princess instead?”

  Vanessa watched them, incredulous. “Hey, I didn’t steal her role—”

  “Always a bridesmaid, never a bride,” Blaine said.

  “Stop it!” Vanessa said.

  Finally Blaine turned to her. “Stop what?”

  “You’re already gossiping about me! You’re treating me like I’m a stranger or something. Like I’m one of the princesses.”

  “Yeah, well you are now, honey,” Blaine said. “So you’d better get used to the idea. Believe me, there’s a lot more where this came from.”

  Vanessa leaned back against the wall and sighed. “It’s not like I’m disappearing. I’ll still be in class with you.”

  Blaine lowered his voice as he turned to TJ. “That’s what she thinks.”

  “You do realize I can hear you,” Vanessa said.

  Blaine rolled his eyes melodramatically, making TJ laugh. “She’s just stressed out from the pressure,” he said. “We shouldn’t take it personally.”

  Before Vanessa could continue, she felt her phone vibrate. Slipping it out of her pocket, she turned away from her friends and answered.

  Her mother practically exploded at the good news. Vanessa had to hold the phone five inches away from her ear while she shrieked. Across the room, her friends exchanged a muffled laugh as they stood and gathered their things.

  “Are you guys going to dinner?” Vanessa asked, getting off the phone.

  TJ shook her head. “I have to cram for my Spanish test.”

  “And I have to see the physical therapist for my knee,” Steffie said.

  Blaine gave her an apologetic look. “I have a date. With Tad from our English class.” He gave them a mischievous look. “That Mississippi drawl of his is like eating banana cream pie on the porch with a warm, humid breeze.”

  Vanessa let out a laugh and rolled her eyes, trying to hide her dread of walking into the dining hall on her own. Before she went inside, she sat on the ledge by the doors and dialed Elly’s phone number one more time. Elly had never replied to Vanessa’s e-mail, and though Vanessa should have taken the hint, part of her just didn’t believe Elly really wanted to be left alone.

  Vanessa imagined what she would say if Elly picked up. There was so much she wanted to tell her. She missed her, they all did. But the phone rang until an automated voice answered, telling her that Elly’s mailbox was full.

  The dining hall was loud with clanking plates and forks, the occasional crash of someone dropping a tray. Vanessa glanced around, trying to spot a friendly face, but the girls from her hall were packed into a tiny table by the windows, and other than them, she didn’t know anyone. Trying to hide the panic bubbling inside her, she walked through the room, looking for an empty seat.

  Through the din, Vanessa imagined she heard people talking about her: Vanessa. Firebird. Freshman. She lowered her head and made for a secluded table at the far end of the room, when she felt someone watching her.

  Anna Franko was sitting at a table full of senior girls, most of whom had been cast as the other twelve princesses. Vanessa bit her lip as she saw Anna stand up, her pale hair tied into a ponytail, her pretty face pinched with anger. One of her friends touched her arm and whispered something in her ear, which seemed to calm her down. She gave Vanessa one last furious look and stormed out of the dining hall.

  There was a lull in the room when the door slammed.

  “How did she do it?” she overheard a girl named Azalea say. Vanessa recognized her from dance class. She was hunched over a salad with a group of girls from Vanessa’s floor.

  “I heard she met with Josef in his office,” a blond girl said. “Privately.”

  “And did what?” another one whispered.

  The blonde popped a cherry tomato between her teeth. “Isn’t it obvious?” she said.

  Vanessa found an empty seat in the corner of the room, next to a table of bookish upperclassmen who were arguing about the third act of Hamlet. She recognized her RA, Kate, among them. Taking a cue from them, Vanes
sa set her tray down and promptly opened a book, hoping that if she hid her face, everyone might forget that she existed. But it didn’t work. Halfway through her salad, she heard a tray clatter against the table.

  “I thought that was you,” Justin said, flicking the end of her hair with his fork.

  Vanessa leaned away from him and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Please don’t touch me.”

  He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. You’re a landed woman now. I get it.” He sat down. “Prized property,” he added.

  “Excuse me?”

  Justin twirled spaghetti around his fork. “You know what I’m talking about. Sunday night. With Zeppelin.” He pronounced Zep’s name slowly, dragging out the syllables.

  Vanessa put down her book. “I’m not anyone’s property,” she said. “And who said you could sit here?”

  Justin took a sip of water. “I didn’t realize this table was anyone’s property either.” He relaxed his shoulders. “So what do you know about Zep?”

  “I don’t see how that’s any of your business. Why do you hate him so much, anyway? Because you’re jealous that he has the lead role and you weren’t even cast?”

  “As a matter of fact, I was cast,” Justin said. “As his understudy. Which is exactly what I wanted.”

  Vanessa tried to hide her surprise. Zep and Justin, the only boys she was drawn to, for better or for worse, were now cast in the same role.

  Justin lowered his voice. “And I never said I hated Zep. Let’s just say I’m interested in him.”

  “In Zep?” Vanessa said, backing away. Without warning, Justin took her wrist in his hand and raised it off the table. Her muscles tightened beneath his palm.

  He pointed to the shadow their hands had formed. “In this,” he said.

  Vanessa stared at the table, confused. “In what?”

  “His shadow,” Justin said. “His dark side.”

  Wriggling out of his grip, Vanessa pulled back. “What—” she started to say, when a voice cut over her.

  “Leave her alone,” Zep said. He looked down at Vanessa, his eyes lustrous, wild. “She’s got enough on her shoulders.”