“I love you, Caleb,” she whispered, staring up at him. “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. I couldn’t forget you, either. In fact, I was mourning you just now, trying to tell myself that I must get over you.”
“You’ll never have to,” he growled, nuzzling into her hair. “I know that you want to wait to marry, and I respect that, but I am here for the long haul, Allie. I will love you forever. I’ve found my mate.”
She laughed. “I’ve found my mate, too.”
He took her hand, and they slowly walked back towards the town, leaning into each other.
Behind them, the sun sank lower into the lake, sending out ribbons of buttery gold across the water. But Caleb and Allie didn’t notice.
They were together. They had a future, which neither of them had dared to hope. A new life, beckoning to be discovered.
The past was left behind, once and for all. The shadow of the wolf trailed them for a little while, before vanishing completely, extinguished along with the afternoon sun.
Book Two
Chapter One
She spun around, and around again, keeping her gaze on a single spot to keep her balance. How many pirouettes could she manage before the tip of her toe suddenly decided it was too much?
Six, was her last count. She pushed herself harder, willing her body to spin one more time. Suddenly, she felt herself starting to topple. She fell off the tip of her toe, stumbling forward slightly. Damn.
A woman poked her head around the door of the rehearsal room, smiling.
“Maya,” she called. “We’re heading out for dinner. Are you coming?”
Maya looked up, her frown softening. It was Leonie.
“Not yet,” she said, smiling back apologetically. “I need to stay a little longer.”
Leonie’s smile wavered slightly. “Maya, you push yourself too hard,” she said. “You need to eat, and what is that saying?” She tilted her head to the side, thinking. “Oh, that’s right. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Or in your case, it makes Maya a spoilsport.”
Maya’s smile widened. “I’ll get there, I promise,” she said. “Where are you guys going?”
“Franklin’s, over on Eighth Street,” Leonie replied. “But we aren’t going to be out long. If we decide to leave before you get there, I’ll text you, right? And then I’ll see you at home?”
Maya nodded, already turning back to the barre. Leonie sighed and shut the door.
Maya took a deep breath, raising her arm into the air. She turned and studied herself in the mirrors that surrounded the room. She saw a tall woman, dressed in practise leotard and tights with her old ballet slippers on. A woman with long, dark hair, scrapped back into a tight bun. Was her face a little paler than normal? It had been a long day, and a part of her had yearned to say yes to Leonie and finish up. Hit the town with the others, and have a well deserved rest.
She raised her right leg and turned. She needed to practise. It was that simple. The pressure of being here, in her new role as prima ballerina with the Covenester Ballet Company, was getting to her, just a little. She had never been prima ballerina before. And even though this was only Covenester, and not London or New York or Paris, it didn’t matter. It was her chance to prove herself, and she intended to give it her all.
As she went through her moves, watching herself like a hawk for slips in technique, she still couldn’t quite believe that she was back here. Living in her home city after three years away as a part of the corps de ballet with a New York ballet company. The corps de ballet were the lower ranked dancers; in the modern dance world, they might be considered back up dancers, although Maya had sometimes done solo work.
She had paid her dues, and then some. She had worked her butt off, living and breathing her dance. It had paid off, and a month ago she had been approached by the Director of the Covenester Ballet Company, David Wagner. She had met with him in a room at a plush New York hotel. She had gazed out at the skyline of the great city, wondering why he had called her. Maya still recalled the thrill of it all, when he had first told her why he was there.
“We have an opening,” he had said, slowly, leaning back in the luxurious chair. “Amber Willis is leaving us, and we need a prima ballerina.” He stared at her, his brown eyes sharp. “I could promote through our own ranks, but I decided to look further afield. And I spotted you, Maya.”
She had almost choked on the ice in her drink. “Me?” Her eyes widened. “David, I’m floored! I’ve been working so hard for this chance, but I never expected it would come this soon.” She had taken a deep breath, her head spinning. “Yes, yes, yes!”
He had laughed. “We are not as prestigious as other companies,” he had said. “But it is a great chance for you, Maya. I’ve been watching your progress with interest. Your parents are great supporters of our company and often mention you.”
Maya had raised her eyebrows. That sounded just like her parents. They were always trying to push her forward. It was a little embarrassing, but then, it had reaped rewards in this case. David Wagner mightn’t have even noticed what she was doing if they hadn’t.
“I saw you in last year’s production of The Nutcracker,” he said. “Even in the corps, you stood out. There is a definite star quality in your dance, Maya. I’m predicting great things for you.”
Maya watched herself in the mirrors, recalling the moment. In one sense, it had been the pinnacle, just being asked. Since she had returned to Covenester and taken up the position, she had sometimes wondered what the hell she was doing back here.
It was a tough, mean old city. She had always hated it; she couldn’t get away from here fast enough, when she had the chance. And she had always lived in the exclusive part of the city, as well. Her parents were extremely wealthy, owning a two-storey mansion, as well as a holiday house by the beach, hundreds of miles away. Even so, Maya had always felt uneasy in this city. She had never been quite able to put her finger on why.
And this ballet company was strange, too. David Wagner had painted her a picture of a smaller company, struggling a little, but with great potential. He had appealed to her pioneering spirit, saying that they could build it up together. How could she resist?
The truth of it was far different. The Covenester Ballet Company, or CBC as it was known, was not just struggling, it was floundering. She had realised as soon as she had arrived. But what could she do about it now? And it was great experience, just as David had said. Her first chance to be a principal dancer with a company, however bad.
If she could ignore the odd things that had been happening here, and the swirling rumours surrounding the company, that is.
It was Leonie who had first mentioned them to her. Leonie, who had taken her under her wing from day one and included her in everything. When Maya had mentioned how suffocating it was living back at home with her parents, Leonie had straight away insisted that Maya move in with her.
“It’s a grand old lady of a house,” she had said, smiling. “Five bedrooms, in a neighbourhood that probably was once considered genteel, back in the nineteenth century. But gorgeous! I live there with some of the other girls in the company, and we all support each other. You’ll love it, Maya.”
How could she resist? And the house was like a grand old lady who had seen better days but was still beautiful. The house creaked, and there were new cracks in the ceilings and walls every day, but it had an ambience all its own. Helped, of course, by the group of dancers who lived within it, flitting in and out like a swarm of butterflies.
Maya liked living there. Her parents had been horrified, of course, turning up their noses when they had seen it. They couldn’t understand why anyone would choose to live in that part of the city when they could live in the exclusive part. But Maya had taken a deep breath and just ignored them.
The group of girls that lived there were warm and welcoming. And they were all dancers with the company, like her, and understood the life.
It suited her, for now, anyway. Fo
r the time that she was back in Covenester, it would do just fine. She wasn’t intending to be here forever. It was just a stepping stone to something else.
Maya twirled around the large rehearsal room. She had to get this part right; it always eluded her. It had been dogged determination, and practise, that had got her where she was. She was used to the endless hours of this. But maybe she should stop soon. Join the others and have something to eat. She knew they thought her a bit odd. But she had always been this way, and she didn’t know how to stop. Have a normal life, outside of her dance. Well, it had been drummed into her from as soon as she could walk, after all. Thanks to her parents and their obsession with turning her into a great ballet dancer.
She frowned and stumbled slightly. She didn’t want to think about her parents. The esteemed Mr. and Mrs. Roberts, who patronised the ballet and the opera, throwing their wealth around like confetti. They supported the arts and gave regular contributions. But Maya knew it wasn’t out of any innate love for the arts. Rather, they just wanted to be seen as bigwigs in the city. Influential. Well, they had both come from wealthy Covenester families. And her mother was always bleating about how her great great grandfather had been a founding father of the city.
“You have lineage, Maya,” she had always told her daughter, her lips prim. “That is why you must be the best. It is in your blood, after all.”
Maya stopped. It was no good. Thinking about her family had ruined her concentration. And she was tired. Time to call it a night and head out to dinner.
She walked across the floorboards, towards the corner where she thrown her wrap. She picked it up and was just about to walk out of the room when the lights above her started flickering slightly.
She stared at them, confused. Was there about to be a power outage? She didn’t want to have to walk out of this building in the dark by herself. She knew there was a security guard on duty, but he was always half asleep in his little box of an office outside. He probably wouldn’t even hear her if she started caterwauling and beating on the walls with her fists.
The lights kept flickering, almost like a pattern. As if they were flickering to a beat; some kind of music, that they alone could hear.
Maya kept staring. Could she will them to stay on?
It seemed that she couldn’t. Suddenly, they went out. She was surrounded by darkness.
A stab of fear pierced her heart, and she took a deep breath. Calm down, Maya, she told herself crossly. They will probably be back on in a minute. Was it the Covenester power company? Or the wiring in this old building? She had noticed lights flickering randomly a few times now. Perhaps someone should speak to the maintenance guy.
She waited. And waited. But the lights didn’t come back on.
She felt a flash of irritation. The rehearsal room she was in was at the back of the building, and downstairs, to boot. She would have to climb the stairs in the dark, then feel her way to the front of the building, like a blind person.
But it was better than waiting for the lights to come back on. Besides, she had been about to leave anyway.
Determinedly, Maya walked to the door, opening it and climbing the stairs. It was actually better than she thought it would be; the railing helped her out. But once she got to the top, she hesitated.
“Hello?” she called out into the darkness. Her voice bounced around the space.
There was no reply.
She was obviously the last person here. That wasn’t surprising—it was seven o’clock on a Friday night, after all. Everyone else must have a life, she thought darkly. It had never occurred to her that she might be vulnerable, staying back by herself. But the thought entered her brain forcefully now.
She kept walking, stumbling slightly. Her cell phone shed a soft pool of light outwards, allowing her some visibility. This was madness. Why hadn’t she left with Leonie when she had come and asked her? Why had she insisted on staying back, to perfect that stupid section of the dance? It wasn’t as if it was for a big production, anyway. David had told her that he was still considering what they would stage to showcase her as the new prima ballerina.
“It has to be something striking,” he had said, his eyes glittering. “Something noteworthy! We want the whole city to sit up and take notice of you, Maya.”
Well, they won’t be taking much notice of me if I trip and sprain my ankle trying to make my way through this darkness, thought Maya grimly. It was a dancer’s worst nightmare: an injury that could put you out of action. Or worse, never heal properly, forcing you to retire early and live out your life teaching dance to snotty-nosed toddlers in the suburbs.
Maya shuddered. A fate worse than death.
She hadn’t realised how cold it was in here, despite it being summer and probably ninety-five degrees outside. Now, a chilly breeze hung in the air, seeming to accentuate the darkness. She actually shivered. Was it worse than normal? David had told her the building was always colder because it was so old; one of the first buildings built in Covenester, back in the day. A regal old theatre that had definitely seen better days. Maya thought it was beautiful, but it seemed a sad state of affairs that the Covenester City Hall couldn’t manage to raise funds for a new, purpose-built theatre for their ballet company.
And then there were the stories about the building. One of the other dancers, Rachel, had told her that there was a legend attached to it. An old ghost story about a betrayed woman who haunted the corridors searching for her errant lover. That was the reason it was so cold in here, claimed Rachel. But someone else had told her that it was the man who haunted the building, with a wolf as a companion, who walked alongside him. Sometimes, you could see their silhouettes against the large stained-glass window at the top of the grand staircase that the patrons climbed to go to their exclusive boxes.
Maya smiled slightly. Ghost stories. All old buildings and houses had them. They always got muddled and mixed up. The building was probably cold because it had too many cracks in the walls, which hadn’t been fixed. Simple.
“Hello?” she called again. “Is anyone here?”
She was wasting her breath. There obviously wasn’t, and she just had to take a deep breath and find her way through it. But she was still unfamiliar with the layout of the building, and she must have taken a left turn instead of a right, because suddenly she was in a part of it that she didn’t recognise at all.
Maya frowned. She was in a large room, lined top to bottom with costumes from previous productions. They were jam packed, and there was a musty air to the room. She brushed against dresses, barely seeing them, but feeling the tulle of the skirts. The sheen of satin. As she moved along, she could feel feathers gliding against her, rather like the fronds of plants when moving through brush.
It was colder in here. So cold, in fact, that Maya shivered. This was not where she was meant to be. And even though she loved costumes, and she loved wearing them when she performed, this was not the time to be gazing at these old ones. For starters, she could barely see them. And secondly, this was obviously not the way out.
She would come back another day to gaze on them. When there was light.
She turned, and started retracing her steps, back towards the door. But it didn’t seem to be leading her to where she wanted to go. Irritated, she turned again. This room was like a maze; the costumes were so tightly crammed in, with barely room to walk amongst them. And they were hanging from bars attached to the ceiling, as well.
She could barely believe it, but she was lost. Inside a room. She couldn’t find the door.
Fear stabbed her in the heart, again. For a moment, she almost reeled, and had to put out a hand to steady herself on a railing. She was trapped. It seemed crazy, but she really was. The room was a labyrinth of sorts, and without lights, she simply couldn’t find her way back through it. It was as if she was Alice and had just fallen through the rabbit hole.
She was in a different world.
Get a grip, she told herself fiercely. You are not Alice, and this is n
ot Wonderland. You have simply lost your way in the darkness. You aren’t familiar with the building, that’s all. Take a deep breath, and start from scratch.
And yet, the hairs on the back of her neck had stood up. She was prickling all over, as if she had been injected with static electricity. Something was wrong. She could feel it in her bones.
Maya was suddenly furiously angry. At herself. For making the wrong turn, of course, and ending up in this godforsaken room that she couldn’t seem to get out of. But also for even accepting the position with this company and coming back to this city. She had always hated it, and now, that hatred reared up with an intensity that surprised her.
The years away had muted it, a little. She had even questioned whether it was really that bad. But that had been from a safe distance. In New York, it had seemed that her hatred of Covenester was a little juvenile, really. And still she had avoided it, making excuses when her parents invited her home, saying that she had to work over Christmas or Thanksgiving or whatever it was. Resisted coming back here, with every fibre of her being.
She didn’t know why she hated it so much. Apparently, it had been better when she was little. Not so dangerous to walk the streets. She had on the surface a good life here, as well. A privileged life. She had gone to the best schools that money could buy and attended the most elite ballet school in the city.
But she had only ever had a handful of friends. Most of the people she associated with thought that they were better than everyone and were cruel and thoughtless. They believed that poverty was the fault of the people. They should just work harder. They didn’t care if they couldn’t afford their medical bills or couldn’t send their children to the best schools. They were just lazy and shiftless.
Maya had never thought that way. She had seen that privilege was just the luck of where you had been born, and into which family. Yes, she was sure that some people who were poor were lazy and shiftless, but not all. Definitely not all.
Wild Keepers Page 25
