Illuminate (28 page)

“What do you think of it here?” he asked. “Do you want to be in the Outfit?” He tossed it out, no big deal.

“Like, hypothetically speaking or . . .” I could feel my eyes twinkling at him. I played with my fork, turning it over and over, absent-mindedly.

“Hypothetically, for now.”

“Well, everyone does, I suppose, don’t they?”

“Yes. But do you?”

“I don’t know.I mean, it never occurred to me it would be an option.”

“Because I just joined pretty recently—”

“Really?”

“Yeah, that’s the thing about this place. If you’re doing a good job, you rise in the ranks. And suddenly you’re at the center of the universe, you’re running the city, you know everyone, you have everything you could want—success, attention, everything. You matter. Some people are never going to reach the highest level, of course, but some people—” His eyes dug into mine, holding on for a silent second. “Some people get on this track and they’re unstoppable. And you’re one of those, Haven. Everyone knows it.”

“Um, that’s good to hear.”

“What would you give anything to have? What do you want most from your life? Right now? What would make you happy?”

“I am happy.”

“I know. But what would make a difference to you, to your life? If you could have anything, everything you wanted? Today, tomorrow, forever. What do you dream about?”

I thought about it. Today and tomorrow were different than forever. Today, in this most immediate minute, I just wished for
him.
But I couldn’t tell him that, and I liked that we were having this kind of heavy philosophical talk, so I decided to go ahead and give him my more serious answer. “Well, I guess I want to do something important. I want to go to med school eventually and be a doctor. I’m not sure what kind but I guess, if I’m being honest . . .”

“Yes?”

“I want to set the world on fire, you know? Cure cancer, save people, change people’s lives on a grand scale. I kind of feel like there are a lot of people who changed my life. I’ve had to rely on people so much, and if they hadn’t been good people I don’t know where I’d be now.”

He sat back in his seat, studying me, looking for something in my eyes or under my skin, something within. Finally, he spoke, choosing his words slowly and carefully: “What if I could tell you I could give you all of that?” The words swirled in my head, blowing in like a summer breeze, too sweet and perfect. I didn’t understand. My skin felt fiery now. “And more. I could give you more.”

“I’m not sure I—”

He leaned forward, like he was about to let me in on a secret, whispering in his honey-coated voice.

“Your life could be perfect and everything, everyone, you wanted could be yours.” He didn’t take his eyes from mine for even a second.

“I guess my only question would be—”

“Where do you sign?” He touched my hand.

“Or, maybe, what’s the catch?” Nervous laughter slipped out.

“There’s always a little fine print, I suppose. But aren’t some things worth it?”

“I guess it depends.”

“That’s not the answer I expected,” he said with a smile, as though he knew I would come around. “Think about it.”

“Think about what?”

“Think about what it would feel like to get everything you ever wanted.”

“Okay.”

“And think about how that could be worth whatever price you had to pay to get there.”

I nodded.

“You have no idea what could be ahead of you. What you’re capable of.” He said it with a reverence that surprised me, elevated me. “I don’t think you know how remarkable you are.”

That last bit I wanted so badly to believe.

“Thank you,” I said.

“You’re welcome,” he said sincerely. “And Haven . . . it’s true.”

And with that, he leaned back in his chair again and surveyed what remained on the plates before us.

We finished eating and with the push of a few buttons, dinner was cleared and a dessert smorgasbord appeared in its place. We spoke easily about the hotel, the gala opening, the change in atmosphere now that our Lexington world was populated with guests, and then dissected the mechanics of how our food got onto our table.

“You really want to know?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“Doesn’t it ruin some of the magic?”

“I like to know how things work.”

“It’s basically an elevator, with someone monitoring everything I type in. Come ’ere, I’ll show you.” He let me over to his side and allowed me to punch in the directions to remove our dessert, returning our table to a clean, blank damask-covered canvas.

When it was time to go and I rose from my seat, I was lightheaded and unsteady. He took my arm in his so we could walk through the gate and along the bridge together.

“Thanks. I think I must be in a food coma.”

“Understandable.”

“Maybe I should swim back.” I gestured to the water. “Wake myself up a bit.”

“You’re welcome to, but it would be more wading than swimming. It’s only a foot or so deep. You didn’t hear it from me, though. It ruins the illusion.”

“It’s all about the illusion. Life is all smoke and mirrors, isn’t it?”

“So true.”

We made our way to the elevator, the walkway lighting our path with each step, until finally we reached it and he hit the up button. As woozy as I was, I still felt the butterflies rise, knowing we were closing in on the end of our date. The doors opened and we stepped inside.

“So obviously we have to do this again,” he offered.

“Obviously.” I nodded in return, with a shy, expectant smile. And then, his eyes reeled me in and he took a few steps toward me, until his soft, warm lips delicately found mine, his hand lightly feeling for my fingers.

But what was different? I couldn’t make sense of it, except that I was aware of it happening, this kiss. I wasn’t knocked out the way I had been the night before, when something else had taken over and I had cleaved to him involuntarily and he had grabbed me and there was frenzy, no thought, only pure feeling. This was more timid.

The elevator stopped and he slipped away. My eyes opened just before the doors did.

He led us out into the lobby through a back door behind the dining room.

“So I guess this is good night then,” he said, leaning in and kissing me once more, quickly and too politely this time.

“Good night.”

With a wave, he walked away, hands in his pocket. I watched him go, staring after him longer than I should have, then fetched the camera from the gallery. I had work to do.

18. We Mustn’t Underestimate Her

The Vault was throbbing at its usual fever pitch by the time I got there. The lights emblazoned on the tunnel wall told me tonight was greed night. I wondered if that was a sign. Had I been greedy in my unfavorable analysis of that kiss? I had now received three kisses in two days. I was making up for lost time, to be sure, so maybe I should be less of a critic and more grateful to find my lips being put to good use at last.

I snapped shots without thinking and found more eyes connecting with the camera than I expected. It seemed these revelers, decked out in their designer clothes, painted with their makeup and perfectly coifed, were already looking in my direction when I trained my lens on them. I wasn’t so much the fly on the wall tonight as I was a player thrust into the mix—not a role I was generally accustomed to. I guess it must’ve been the dress. It could be nice to be watched. The collective power of those eyes could swirl around you, bubble up inside you, and, if you let it, convince you that you were worthy of it and that you were something to see. I wasn’t entirely sold yet, but I was getting there.

But what I really didn’t expect was to find anyone going so far as to wave at me to get my attention. But as I circled the crowded dance floor, taking action shots of the sea of bodies swaying and spinning and shaking to the music, I spotted someone just on the outskirts, amid a handful of girls in black pants and an array of sparkly tops, signaling to me. I adjusted the camera’s focus on my gesturing subject and zoomed in to find a smiling familiar face: Dr. Michelle. I looked again to be sure, but, yes, I was right. She put her hand up to her mouth and looked to be yelling my name, though I couldn’t hear a thing over the ear-rattling beat of the music. I waved back. “Don’t go anywhere!” I tried to yell, though I couldn’t even begin to hear myself, and our view of each other kept getting blocked by dancers in the space between us.

Snaking through the crowd, jostled by flailing arms and sloshed by the occasional drink, I finally reached Michelle. It occurred to me I had never seen her outside the hospital. She had on an aqua sequined halter-top, black pants, and a brighter pink lip-gloss than usual, her dark hair still tied back, but in a lower ponytail than she wore at work.

“Hey, Haven!” She gave me a big hug. It was so comforting to see her that, for just a flash, I missed everyone, everything, even school. “This is the awesomest candy striper at the hospital,” she announced to the pack of girls, who smiled and waved while still dancing. “I was thinking of you when Katie said she wanted to come here—”

“It’s my birthday!” Katie, a blonde in a rhinestone tiara and pink feather boa, slurred, already tipsy. “Twenty-seven! Ugh! Sooooo ollllld!”

Michelle shook her head. “But, anyway, I figured you had to be twenty-one here so I didn’t think I’d get to see you. But here you are and look at you! You look fantastic!” She stood back to look at me. “I bet you don’t miss your scrubs!”

“There are definitely some perks here, I guess.”

“I guess so! And don’t worry, I won’t tell Joan you’ve turned into a crazy club kid.”

“Thanks, appreciate it. I’m on official business.” I shook the camera. “Hey, let me get all you guys.” I motioned for them to gather up and they squeezed together, arms around each other, posing. “Say, ‘birthday’!” They did, and I snapped. A new song blasted and the girls all started jumping and cheering. Michelle shook her head again, like she was the sensible chaperone of the group. “Let me know if you guys need anything,” I said, enjoying the thrill of playing hostess at a place like this, at having even the teeniest illusion of influence here. “And have fun and—oh yeah!—maybe just tell Joan we ran into each other in the hotel lobby or something?” I tacked on, just to be safe.

“You got it! So great to see you, Haven! We miss you at work!” She gave me another hug and I waved as I slunk back, swallowed into the surrounding crowds as I searched out my next target.

The ring of fire burned bright in the center of it all, and I decided to go ahead and make my way to it, weaving through clubgoers and snapping as I went. The sheer number of bodies on that platform tonight seemed almost too much to contain. I had never seen it crowded with so many people—so many unfamiliar faces, especially. I scanned all these figures looking for one in particular but I didn’t see Lucian. A wave of peace washed over me. Emboldened by our date, by this night, I ventured up that spiral staircase on my own, joining ranks with all those beautiful creatures, dancing and flirting and drinking and locking eyes with the less vaunted partygoers down below.

Walk tall, Haven. For once, walk tall and belong.
I snapped dozens of pictures. The Outfit members paid me no mind, and the others were only too happy to seek me out hoping to be shot. I squeezed through the clusters of boys and girls secretly sorting themselves in that silent dance to determine who would pair up with whom. After several minutes floating among them, I took one last look from the top of the staircase and returned to the main floor, that aura and glow still illuminating me.

I wound my way around the perimeter of the club making one full lap. I had stayed longer than I planned, but tonight, oddly, I had enjoyed myself. The heat and wooziness of dinner had worn off, leaving only the welcome sense of euphoria behind. I gave a parting glance to the ring but had to do a double take. Lucian was seated there now. He lounged nearest the bar, a drink in his hand, staring off into space. Something stopped me from trying to get his attention. He knew I was planning to be here, but he hadn’t said a word about coming. Had he hoped to find me? Or had he neglected to look for me? I fought against the urge to let this snuff out the buzz I had. I couldn’t read his expression at all. He stared off into the distance as everyone else swirled around him, existing in his own personal chamber it seemed.

I slunk away, back through the thick steel door, and onward to my room. All those unanswered questions flared up in me again. Still lost in thought, running through the night’s odd twists and turns, it took me ages to fish my keycard out of my evening bag and swipe it in the lock of my room. The hallway was entirely silent, except for a crackling I couldn’t place. It almost sounded like it was coming from inside my room, even though that didn’t make any sense. It was along the lines of wind rustling, but there were no windows down here. The lock unlatched and I opened the door. A scream escaped my lips before my brain could even fully process the scene.

Fire!
My room was on fire. Or at least a part of my room was on fire.

The blaze was consuming—and emanating from—the plant Dante had given me. A spitting column of fire shot up from the pot, reaching from my desk almost to the ceiling. A layer of dense, cottony-gray smoke clouded the top half of the room. I dropped my bag on the floor and ran to my closet, pulling out the mini fire extinguisher and yanking the locking pin out of the trigger. I pointed the nozzle at the dancing embers and unleashed a torrent of white spray. It coated the plant, snuffing out the danger until there was nothing left but a charred stem. The smoke and haze of misty residue hung in the air and in my lungs. I opened up my door wider, waving my hands to clear space to breathe, coughing fiercely. The room was a heat trap of burnt, bitter air.

I swept the potted plant off the desk and straight into the wastebasket and flew out the open door to Dante and Lance’s room. As I banged on their door, my stomach muscles tensed and ached from the violent coughing and I doubled over against these tremors that shook my body. I just needed to be out of that room. I waited, trying to listen between my coughs, with my ear to the door to detect any movement inside. But when no one answered, I eventually gave up and walked away.