Dance of Shadows (28 page)

Read Dance of Shadows Online

Authors: Yelena Black

Tags: #Romance, #General, #Fiction, #Performing Arts, #Love & Romance, #Dance, #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Horror & Ghost Stories

BOOK: Dance of Shadows
8.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Good afternoon, everyone,” she said. “I hope you’re all well rested, because we have a lot of work ahead of us. Josef will not be with us this afternoon, which means I will be leading the
Firebird
rehearsal.”

She cleared her throat. “Zeppelin Gray also will not be joining us today, and Justin will be dancing his role. We will start with the first duet in act one.”

A murmur arose among the dancers. Justin gave them a cold nod, his eyes lingering on Vanessa. She had to dance with him? To touch him? To trust him to steady her, lift her, catch her?

“Vanessa?” Hilda said sharply. “Are you ready?”

It was only then that Vanessa realized everyone else was in position. Justin stood at stage left. The overhead lights shone down on him, casting a shadow until his eyes looked dark and vacant, impossible to read. Leaning toward her, he extended a long, muscular arm.

“Yes,” Vanessa said softly, and took her place by his side.

They waited in silence for the music to start. She thought she heard him say something under his breath, but before she could turn to him the trembling sound of a lone violin pierced the air, and they began.

Justin’s hand was surprisingly warm as he took her fingers in his, sliding gently down her arm, firm against her waist when he lifted her into a leap. She closed her eyes, imagining he was Zep. And when she opened them, all she could see was his hair, his rolling shoulders, his muscular legs moving in time with hers. Vanessa could feel the heat emanating off him; she could smell his sweat mixed with his aftershave, filling the air with a sweet, yet bitter, aroma.

It all happened so easily that it felt natural, fated, as if they were meant to dance together. Vanessa arched her back, her foot sliding across the wood boards, and let out a breath of relief, feeling her heart beat to the rhythm of the music, when she felt someone bump into her.

She caught herself just before she fell, noting a misstep in Justin’s footwork.
It was just a mistake
, she thought. Justin was not nearly as accomplished a dancer as Zep. To his credit, he was probably doing his best.

Vanessa pressed on, slipping across the floor as she teased and taunted the pale princesses fluttering around her. She felt weightless, delicate, her feet soundless against the wood. But when she dipped beneath Justin’s arms, he was a beat off again, and accidentally hit her cheek with his wrist.

“What was that?” she breathed as Justin leaned away from her. If he’d heard her, he didn’t let on. At the edge of the practice room, she could feel Hilda watching her, curious. Vanessa forced a smile and continued.

She let the satin edge of her shoe slide down the floor, when she felt something heavy come down on her toe. Pain shot up her leg, and she cried out, pulling her foot away. Had Justin stepped on her? She gazed around the room, but no one else seemed to have noticed. She turned to him, expecting his gaze to be apologetic, but instead it was dark, defiant, his eyes flickering with amusement.

That’s when she realized Justin had done it on purpose.

She thrust him away from her, enraged. He was trying to ruin her dance. Another pirouette, another blunder. Justin was an inch too close, his body forcing hers out of balance. She stumbled, falling off pointe.

“What are you doing?” she asked furiously.

He squeezed her waist a little harder than normal, pulling her toward him. For a moment, she thought she heard him whisper something, but she was moving too quickly to make out what he was saying.

“Stop trying to sabotage me,” she hissed.

“Vanessa, it’s not what you—”

But she didn’t want to hear it.

“Don’t speak to me.” She lunged away from him, not caring that she was out of step. The music clashed with her movements, and the dancing princesses slowed, their faces confused.

Vanessa felt Justin’s chest against her back as he braced for their lift. “Don’t touch me!” she said, loudly enough for everyone to hear. And finally, Justin listened.

“Fine. Have it your way,” he said, and let go.

Vanessa dropped to the ground, collapsing with a sharp thud. The princesses gasped.

“That’s enough!” Hilda shouted. She shut off the music and stormed toward Vanessa.

Justin stepped toward her, holding a hand to help her up, but Vanessa only glared at him in disbelief.

“Vanessa, what are you doing?” Hilda said forcefully, her hands knotted into fists.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Vanessa said. She pointed to Justin, who backed away, holding his hands up as if he were innocent. “He dropped me.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Hilda said. “There is only one person who controls the dancer’s body,” she said, her eyes trained on Vanessa. “If you can’t get that into your head, you might as well just do us a favor and leave now.”

Vanessa opened her mouth to respond but then thought better of it.

“Well?” Hilda asked. She gestured to the door. “Do you want to leave or stay?”

“Stay,” Vanessa said softly.

“Then why don’t you two practice on your own instead of wasting our time.”

Vanessa didn’t look up while the rest of the company filtered out of the practice room, leaving her alone with Justin. When the door finally shut and the last ballerina was out of earshot, Vanessa stood up.

“What is your problem?” she said to Justin. “Are you purposely trying to make sure I lose this part?”

“Actually, yes,” Justin said.

Vanessa shook her head in confusion and anger. “Why? I could have broken my leg. You could have ruined my career!”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Justin said. “I wouldn’t have let you break a leg. And you’re fine.”

“I’m not fine. There’s only a month until opening night, and I still haven’t gotten my steps right.”

“And whose fault is that?” Justin asked.

“Why are you even here?” Vanessa said. “Where’s Zep? He never would have made those mistakes. When I dance with Zep, everything is perfect.”

“Is it?” Justin rubbed his chin pensively. “Well, that must be the only perfect thing about Zep. You really should stay away from him. And while you’re at it, ditch this part.”

“What is it about Zep that gets to you so much?” Vanessa replied. “It isn’t just that he’s a better dancer … it’s something more. He has everything you wish you had.”

But Justin just laughed. “Zep? God, no.”

“Then what is it?” she asked, guessing wildly. “You say things are so dangerous here, but I don’t see
you
leaving. You’re still
here, trying to badmouth Zep so you can take his role—” She had more to say, but Justin interrupted.

“I’m not trying to take his role, I’m trying to help you,” he began, but Vanessa wouldn’t let him finish.

“You’re lying,” she said. “You think you’re smarter than everyone else. But I know—”

“For once just listen to me!” Justin shouted, so loudly that his voice reverberated through the studio. “If you don’t want to end up like your sister, you’ll forget about Zeppelin Gray and this school and go home. Take your weird talents and get the hell out of this place before it’s too late.”

Vanessa heard the slap before she realized what she had done. Stunned, Justin put a hand to his face in disbelief.

Vanessa trembled with adrenaline. “You don’t know anything about my sister,” she said, trying to steady her voice.

Justin let his hand slide away from his face. “I know she got in over her head, and I don’t want the same thing to happen to you. Look, you seem like a sweet kid—”

“Don’t call me a kid,” Vanessa said, backing away from him. Everything about Justin disgusted her, from the sweat stains on his leotard to the overgrown stubble on his cheek, where her red hand mark was now fading away. “And don’t ever speak to me again. Not about Margaret, or about anything else.”

Justin opened his mouth to speak but caught himself, as if he could read the loathing on her face. For a second, Vanessa sensed that he was waiting for her to come back to him, to trust him. But without looking back, she pulled on a sweater and left him standing on the dance floor.

She ran up Broadway, trying to convince herself it was the cool autumn air that was making her eyes tear. The sidewalk was bustling with men in suits and ties, women in high heels and panty hose, parents pushing strollers. In the midst of them was a girl with narrow shoulders, her brown hair pulled into a bun.

Margaret?

Vanessa darted toward her, only to crash directly into an older man wearing a hat. His briefcase dropped to the ground with a loud thump. A cab honked, just as the girl turned. She was a stranger.

“I’m so sorry,” Vanessa mumbled, watching the girl cross the street. What was happening to her? She wanted to be alone, to find a quiet place where she could think.

The rush-hour traffic sped by with the familiar sounds of horns and screeching brakes, the strident melody of cab drivers cursing through the windows. Vanessa wove across the street, not sure where she was headed until she saw the knobby branches of Central Park reaching out above the buildings like hands, beckoning her.

The smell of rotting leaves and roasting chestnuts filled the air as Vanessa neared the park entrance. Just the sight of its long, winding paths and pastoral bridges calmed her down. She was about to step inside when she heard footsteps. They followed her toward the trees, far too close for comfort. She slowed, listening to the gritty sound on the path, as a hand closed around her wrist.

Vanessa gasped as cold fingers pressed into her skin. She
was about to scream when she noticed how delicate they were: pale and slender, with long, chipped nails that looked as if they had once been manicured. Above them, she saw a bony arm, clothed in a tattered pink sweater that needed to be washed, a pale neck wrapped in scarves. Her captor was the principal ballerina, the one who had danced the lead role in the performance they’d seen back in September. The one who’d been “punished” by the male lead, Dmitri, in the darkened theater after the performance.

“Helen?” Vanessa said.

In the dreary afternoon light, Helen’s face was dull and sunken, as if all the color had drained out of her. Traces of old makeup were smudged beneath her eyes, and her hair hung about her shoulders, stringy and limp, as if it hadn’t been washed in days.

“Are you all right?” Vanessa asked, glancing down at Helen’s hand, still clutching her wrist.

Helen searched Vanessa’s face, her eyes wide and desperate.

“What—what do you want?” Vanessa surveyed the sidewalk for passersby, in case she needed help.

“Tell no one you’ve seen me,” Helen finally said. She pulled Vanessa closer to the benches that lined the sidewalk outside the park, scattering the pigeons. “I know you’re a dancer like me.” Her voice was hoarse, strained. “J-Josef boasted about your talent eclipsing mine.”

“Look,” Vanessa said. “I don’t want to replace you. I’m just trying to dance and do my best.” She tried to wiggle out of Helen’s grasp, but the ballerina’s grip was surprisingly tight.

“No,” Helen said, her gaze so steady it was unnerving. “It’s not just dancing, what you and I can do. When we dance, the world doesn’t just
seem
to disappear, it really does. The right steps with the right dancer can wreak havoc.”

Vanessa stopped trying to escape. “What are you talking about?” she said slowly, even though she knew exactly what Helen was referring to.

“He tried to use me,” Helen said. “He tried to put me in, but I escaped. And now he’s watching. He’s looking for me.”

“Put you in where?” Vanessa asked. “Who’s looking for you?”

“The walls.” Helen gazed around her as if the street and trees were walls themselves.

“You mean someone is trying to lock you up?” Vanessa said, trying to make sense of her, but Helen didn’t answer.

“You must leave,” Helen said. “Get out while you still can.”

“What?” Vanessa asked, narrowing her eyes. She knew that Helen had graduated from NYBA just two years ago, which meant she might have known Margaret and some of the seniors. Anna. Zep. And Justin. “Did he put you up to this?”

“Who?”

“Justin.”

Helen’s eyes went blank. “Who is Justin?”

Vanessa didn’t know how to answer. Just as Helen opened her mouth again, a cab pulled up to the curb in front of them. She went rigid, watching the man inside pay the driver.

“Helen?” Vanessa said, trying to get her attention.

“Did you bring someone?” Helen said, her voice fearful. “Did you have someone follow me?”

“What?” Vanessa said. “You were the one who followed me.”

“Josef?” Helen said, and watched in horror as the cab door opened and a man stepped out. He was roughly the same build as Josef, with dark wavy hair and a tight black shirt.

“That isn’t Josef,” Vanessa said, but the remaining color drained from Helen’s cheeks, and her hands began to tremble.

“No,” she whispered. “No.”

“Why are you so scared of Josef?”

The wind blew through the thin fabric of Helen’s scarf. Beneath it, Vanessa could barely see the traces of a collection of small yellow bruises on Helen’s collarbone, their small oval shapes pressed into her like fingerprints. Before Vanessa could say anything, Helen turned.

“Find the Lyric Elite,” Helen said. “Trust no one else!” She ran across the street and away from the park, dodging cars and disappearing into the crowd.

Chapter Twenty

Over the next week, Vanessa kept reliving her encounter with Helen. At first, Vanessa thought she was crazy. None of her friends had ever heard of anything called the Lyric Elite, and she couldn’t find any information online.

But Vanessa kept coming back to the same details: the steadiness of Helen’s voice when she said to find the Lyric Elite and trust no one else. And the blankness in her face when Vanessa had asked her if Justin had put her up to it. “Who is Justin?” she had replied, so sanely, so sincerely, that it had given Vanessa the chills.

Something about the way Helen spoke to her, in clear, deliberate words, made Vanessa wonder if she wasn’t insane at all, but so frightened that it consumed her entirely.

As exhausted as she was from rehearsal, Vanessa couldn’t
sleep. She tossed between the sheets, slipping out of her dreams and into the eerie darkness of her room, until she wasn’t sure what was real. She saw Helen running wildly through traffic, her dingy pink sweater flapping around her frail body. But when Helen turned to look at her, Vanessa realized it was Margaret. “Leave while you still can,” she said, before disappearing into the crowd.

Other books

The Book of Disquiet by Fernando Pessoa
A Hunger for Darkness by Cooper Flynn
Amnesia by Beverly Barton
Obsessed by Jo Gibson
Infinity by Andria Buchanan
The French Aristocrat's Baby by Christina Hollis
The Spy by Marc Eden