Dance of Shadows by Yelena Black Read Free Book Online Page A

footsteps reverberating through the studio like a communal heartbeat.
    Josef clapped his hands together. “Take a look around. This is the last time you will be in the same studio together. Today, some of you will be coming with me to work on
The Firebird
.” He lowered his head. “You know who you are.”
    A confused chorus of voices rose over the dancers. “What?” TJ said, sounding outraged. “Are the roles already cast?”
    Josef raised his hand for silence. “While we have a number of seniors in mind already for
Firebird
roles, the final decision will not be made for another month. The rest of you will be working with Hilda, who will handle your morning classes.”
    On cue, Hilda stepped out from somewhere behind him, so commonplace in her frumpy brown skirt and turtleneck that Vanessa hadn’t even noticed her.
    “All of the freshmen to the—” she began to say, but Josef cut her off.
    “Oh, and if you would like to observe the afternoon rehearsal, you are welcome to come under one condition. That you do not speak
at all
.” He held up a finger. “Dance must be pure to be fully realized.
Bon
, now Hilda.”
    He gestured to her, and Hilda pressed her lips together in a smile, watching Josef make his way to the door, followed by a small group of upperclassmen. Arching her neck, Vanessa tried to catch a glimpse of Zep.
    Instead, she spotted Anna Franko’s long golden hair. A large hand was resting on the small of her back. Was it the same hand that had closed over her mouth in her dorm room, that had blindfolded her, that had bandaged her foot so gently?
    Hilda turned to the rest of the students. “Gather your things and follow me. We’re going upstairs.”
    Vanessa stood with everyone else, her eyes traveling up Zep’s arm to his shoulder, his neck, the stubble on his jaw. His face was obscured by the other dancers around him, and she imagined that he was still wearing that white hollow mask as he pressed her to him in her room.
    Her hair was still damp from running in the rain, the long red locks matted to her neck. Pushing it away, Vanessa turned to pick up her bag. Suddenly she could smell his aftershave. Its sharp scent tickled her nose. Confused, she looked toward the door, but Zep was already gone.
    “Do you smell that?” she asked Steffie.
    But when she spun around, Steffie was gone too, and Vanessa found herself inches away from a boy. Startled, she leaped back.
    “Smell what?” he asked.
    He was almost as tall as Zep, though fairer, with a clear gaze and a mess of sandy hair. Unlike most of the other guys in the room, he was actually wearing normal clothes: a pair of chinos and a loose blue polo. Preppy, Vanessa thought with approval, making a mental note that none of his clothing consisted of: a) tight denim, b) spandex, c) nylon, or d) a white undershirt the same size as her tank top. He would have been cute if not for his eyes, which were a cold blue as he studied her.
    And then the faint smell of aftershave floated through the air again. To her surprise, it seemed to be coming from the boy in front of her. “You?”
    “Excuse me?” he said.
    Vanessa took a step back. “I—I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I thought you were—”
    “A friend?” he said, raising an eyebrow.
    Vanessa looked away, suddenly uncomfortable.
    “You dropped this,” he said, holding out a small makeup bag.
    “Thanks,” she said, taking the bag and pushing her hair behind one ear. She was about to leave when he spoke.
    “Is your name Vanessa?” he said.
    She froze. “How did you know?”
    “I recognize you.” He seemed to be looking through her, as if when he saw her face, all he saw was someone else.
    “Margaret,” Vanessa whispered.
    The boy nodded.
    “Who are you?” Her eyes darted around her to make sure no one else was listening, but everyone had already left the studio.
    “Justin,” he said. “We were the same year. She used to talk about her sister, Vanessa.”
    “She did?” Vanessa