Dance of Fire (19 page)

Was he actually bringing this up right before they had to perform? ‘It hasn't been safe since the day we boarded that plane,' Vanessa said. ‘You knew that before we even came here.' She smoothed her chignon, making sure it was in place. ‘It's too late for this now, Justin.'

‘No, it's not –' he began to say, when, from behind the curtain, the music slowed to a stop and Ingrid and her partner came offstage to loud applause. The judges called out the next pair of names.

‘Vanessa Adler and Justin Cooke.'

‘Good luck, guys!' Geo said, beaming. ‘Rock it!'

‘Yeah,' Svetya said drily, staring directly at Vanessa. ‘Break a leg.'

The first forceful notes of Tchaikovsky's score sounded, rearran­ging the air until the entire theatre was drenched in melancholy. Justin let the sombre notes carry him across the stage to Vanessa, his body heavy with guilt, pleading with her to forgive him.

Vanessa channelled all the stress and anger and uncertainty of the past few days until she swooned with sorrow, becoming Tatyana, the spurned lover. That's what dancing was about, right? Turning experience into art? She thought about Margaret – how sad her sister must have been to leave New York, how lost she must have felt.

Dancing as Onegin, Justin complemented her perfectly, their bodies barely touching, as though there was a thin pane of glass between them. She reached out to him, but her hand just missed his, their fingers slipping away from each other, their paths pulling them apart.
Don't go
, his body seemed to plead.
Choose me
.

The music hovered, waiting for her decision. She wanted to throw her arms around him, let him lift her off the stage, the light forming a golden seam around their bodies as they disappeared into the shadows, but she couldn't. She feared she could hurt him.

Then, without warning, the tinny squeal of a violin cut through the room, as if Tchaikovsky's music were somehow distorting itself.

She turned to Justin, wondering if he'd heard it, too, but he carried on with his part as though everything were normal. Vanessa squinted out into the audience, but all she could see were the bright stage lights.

The violin music seeped into Vanessa's body, vibrating through her bones, in counterpoint to Tchaikovsky's score. Concentrate on the steps, she told herself, focusing as her feet followed each other in a swift
chassé
. She felt her fingers, her
arms, her neck warming, as if the sun was beating down on her.

The demon was here. She could sense it.

Her limbs began to tingle, as if they had fallen asleep and were struggling to wake up. She could feel the demon coaxing her to hold her position a moment longer, to lift her leg higher.

Do not fear me. As I help you dance, you can help me.

How?
she wondered.

I need you so that I can act upon this world. Together, no one will be able to stand against us.

It actually was helping her dance. She almost felt as if it was stretching her, pushing her; her jumps were suddenly higher, her arms reached further. All of the positions felt easy, as if she were weightless.

If I join you
, Vanessa wondered,
you'll lead me to my sister?

She felt its
Yes
thrum through her entire body
.

Vanessa spun out of Justin's arms, the routine suddenly ­second nature. Every move Justin made was flawless, even while he was staring at her. He watched her with a steadfast intensity – he knew something was off, different from usual.

He would stop us
, the demon said.
He is jealous. ­Small-minded. But together, we can have the world.

The floor seemed to brighten and shift, its wooden planks bending until it looked like the bumpy terrain of a forest. It all suddenly felt
real
to her; she was running through the trees, searching for the man she loved but knew she could never have. She felt herself die inside, her body swooning, her toes
fluttering on the wooden floor as she collapsed into Justin's arms. She imagined his hands strong and steady beneath her, his lips inches away from her neck, her collarbone, his body enveloping her in his scent. She didn't want to leave. For that moment, she didn't want anything except him.

But he slipped away, his hands sliding out from under her. Vanessa quivered as she balanced on her own, dripping with sweat. Her entire body ached more than it had since the night she'd performed the
Danse du Feu
. She thought of Josef's body, of his blood soaking the boards beneath him. Hilda's scream before she burned up, consumed by the demon from within. Elly's absolute silence.
I want to find my sister, but I can't be the cause of so much death. So much pain.

Everything has a price
, the demon's voice whispered.

And then she was twirling away in an elegant series of
tours
chaînés
, the room around her growing brighter, redder, more beautiful.

The entire auditorium was awash with colour, like an oil painting come to life. For a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Through the colourful blur, all she could make out was Justin, his eyes the only fixed point in the room. He caught her when she landed, his fingers tracing their way down her ribs. She tried to bring his face into focus, but the demon was here, all around her, and she wasn't frightened.

Justin gazed at her, breathless, his fingers spanning the small of her back. His blue eyes were as clear as water.
Stay with me
, they seemed to say. And for a moment she wanted to . . .

Until the demon whispered,
Higher.

She turned her cheek just before Justin lifted her into the air, his hands gripping her waist, her arms reaching upwards. The Tchaikovsky softened behind the shrill scream of the ­violin, the sound of the orchestra thinning until nothing was left but the flutes, dying out like whispers.

For a moment, the theatre was silent. Then it erupted in applause.

Vanessa slid one leg behind her and lowered herself into a deep curtsy. But when she looked at Justin, his face was full of rage. She watched him, confused.

He rose from his bow and quickly stalked off the stage. Vanessa forced one last smile at the judges, then quickly bowed her head before dashing off after him.

‘Hey, slow down,' she said, but he didn't turn. Instead, he went into the boys' dressing room, slamming the door behind him.

‘Justin!' she said, but he didn't answer, so she waited, leaning against the wall, while Svetya and Geo marched onstage to begin their performance.

Vanessa was still there when Justin emerged from the dressing room in jeans and a T-shirt, a towel draped around his neck. ‘Wait,' she said. ‘Look at me!'

He spun around, his face tight with anger. ‘I'm looking.'

‘Onstage – what was that about?' she asked. ‘We were ­dancing so well. Why aren't you happy?'

He slung his bag over his shoulder. ‘Because of you.'

‘Because I danced too well? Because you don't want me to get hurt –'

‘No,' he said forcefully, attracting the attention of the other dancers around them. He waited for them to turn away. ‘That wasn't
only
you, was it?'

Vanessa averted her eyes. ‘I don't know what you're talking about.'

He studied her, as if he could tell from her expression that she was lying. ‘Yes, you do.' He took a step closer. ‘Do you want to know what I think? I think you're getting help from something else, something that's been in your head before.'

She shrank back against the wall, wishing she could deny it.

‘The Fratellis were wrong,' he went on, pointing at her. ‘They didn't need to ask you to participate in their plan. You're already doing it. But I can't stand by and watch while you destroy yourself. Once this thing has you, the only way to get rid of it will be to
kill
you. Is that what you want?'

‘Of course not,' Vanessa said. ‘But –'

‘There are no “buts” here, Vanessa,' he said, taking another step forward. ‘This is your
life
we're talking about. You said we couldn't be together because you were scared I would get hurt, because the demon was connected to you. But now –' he closed his eyes for a moment – ‘now I think you're encouraging it.'

Vanessa stared into his pure blue eyes. Was he right?

Onstage, Svetya and Geo were nearing the end of their performance, dancing beautifully.

‘So I got a little help,' Vanessa said, turning back to Justin. ‘It's not like it hasn't helped me before.'

‘This has happened more than once?' Justin said angrily. ‘Why do you think it's doing that? Why do you think it wants you to win?'

His words sent a shiver of fear down her spine. ‘I don't care why it wants me to win,' Vanessa said. ‘I just want to find my sister.'

‘I know you do, Vanessa. I get that. But if I had to choose between losing your sister or losing you,' Justin said, ‘I'd lose your sister in a heartbeat. Your life is more important to me.'

‘I haven't
had
a life since she left!' Vanessa said, her voice shaking. ‘The only reason I went to NYBA was because of her. I'll do
anything
to get her back.'

Her admission startled him into silence.

‘Why are you so surprised?' she said. ‘You know why I came here.'

Justin backed away, his eyes lingering on hers for a moment before he spun around.

Applause suddenly filled the theatre, as Svetya and Geo took a long bow, then marched backstage, Svetya's expression making it clear she was thrilled with how they had performed. She winked at Justin, then strutted towards the benches along the corridor and rolled on a pair of legwarmers. To Vanessa's surprise, Justin followed her.

He looked back at Vanessa and whispered something in Svetya's ear. She giggled and stood. He took her bag and slung it over his shoulder, and together the two of them left the ­theatre.

Vanessa started after them down the corridor, but was stopped when Enzo intercepted her.

‘I have good news for you,' he said.

Good news? Vanessa couldn't imagine anything good ­coming out of the next few days.

‘We're not supposed to know yet, but I overheard one of the judges, and you and Justin have passed,' Enzo continued. His cheeks were red, flushed with excitement.

For a moment, his pride rubbed off on Vanessa; he had an incredible way of making her feel like he was shining a spotlight on her. ‘You're both moving on to the final stage of the competition!'

He waited for her to react, but Vanessa didn't know what to do. ‘That's great,' she said softly.

Enzo frowned. ‘That's it?'

She wanted to be more excited, but she couldn't get the fight with Justin out of her head. ‘I'm glad. Really, I am.'

Enzo smiled warmly. ‘We're so close, Vanessa!' He couldn't seem to contain his delight. ‘I always thought you had a shot at winning the scholarship, but to have all four of you – Svetya and Geo, too – in the final round!'

‘Yeah, it's great. I'm going to . . . get my stuff from the dressing room. And I'm sure my mom will want to see me, so . . .' Vanessa backed away.

Enzo gave her a tiny nod, and though she wasn't sure exactly why, Vanessa couldn't wait to get out of his sight.

In the dressing room, Vanessa peeled off her leotard and threw on a pair of jeans and a lavender cotton sweater. The countertops
were cluttered with dancers' accoutrements: barrettes and rubber bands and talcum power and Band-Aids and spare tights. Two stations away, Vanessa recognised Pauline's dance bag and ­wondered if she and Jacques had performed yet. She was about to sling her own bag over her shoulder when she spotted a girl sitting on one of the benches, head in her hands, her shoulders trembling.

‘Are you OK?' Vanessa asked.

At first the girl didn't answer. Then she lifted her head, eyes red from crying. She must have danced poorly enough to realise she'd been eliminated.

‘Is there anything I can do to help?' Vanessa asked.

The girl shook her head. ‘I just love to dance,' she said, and then started to cry again. Her voice was tinged with an accent that Vanessa couldn't quite place, maybe German. ‘And now I must go home.'

The girl lowered her head to her hands again. Vanessa sent her a silent hug, then grabbed her jacket and sneaked into the hallway and out the rear exit.

At the door, she looked back. Enzo hadn't noticed her; he was busy watching the final performances, poised as if
he
were the one dancing onstage. His body tensed and swayed ever so slightly with the lilt of the music, elegant even in stasis. And Justin was long gone. His role in this competition was no ­longer tied to hers.

Vanessa was alone now. And she needed help.

Chapter Fourteen

Vanessa stared into the fogged windows of Barre None.

The London afternoon was cold and grey, the sun hidden behind a wall of clouds. She was glad she'd brought a pair of gloves with her, and her favourite scarf, red cashmere edged with tiny white flowers.

As she'd walked, Vanessa marvelled at the people filling the city streets, all blissfully unaware of the Royal Court dance competition. She felt a little envious. Was her sister like these people now?

Vanessa adjusted her scarf and gazed inside the restaurant. The chairs were still upside down on the tables, the dining room empty. The sign on the door said
closed
, but the door was open.

The restaurant felt strange, too quiet, though a heater crackled in the corner. Vanessa glanced up at the dance
paraphernalia on the walls, feeling like she was walking through a museum.