Dancing With Raven (The Young Shakespeareans Series)

by Rogers, S. G.

  “No, not at all. Actually, I’m looking forward to it more than I can say.”

  “Good. I’ll get the dustpan and whisk broom and clean up the mess.”

  “You’ve always been such a good girl,” Misty said. “I can always count on you to do the right thing.”

  Since Misty was preparing for her trip, Monday morning was hectic. Anya had already been told to take time off, so Tori got her own breakfast, gave her foster mother a quick hug, and lugged her dance bag, backpack, laptop, and duffle bag out the door. Outside, she recoiled from the acrid scent of burning wood and her eyes stung. The sky overhead was tinted an unhealthy brownish orange color from lingering smoke, and it was difficult to breathe. A layer of white ash coated her car, obscuring its color. Yeesh! That can’t be good for the paint. When she drew closer, her heart leaped into her throat. “666” had been drawn into the ash on the hood. Must have been the work of a roving imp, feeling mischievous. As soon as she set the car in motion, most of the ash slid off, and she tried to put the Mark of the Beast out of her mind. With clots of demons on every street corner, however, it was impossible.

  As the school morning wore on, several students went to the nurse’s office with asthma attacks. Then, in the middle of Tori’s math class, school administrators announced over the public address system that school was closed until the ash and smog subsided. Assignments could be accessed via the school’s website. The ebullience that would usually accompany a school closure announcement was replaced by sheer relief. Students, drooping from the effects of the smoke, stood up and began to file out into the hallway. Flanked by George and Jenny, Tori joined them.

  “In other parts of the country, school is canceled for snow. Here, it’s for riots, mudslides, earthquakes, and smog,” George joked.

  “I’d cheer if I could breathe,” Jenny said. “Tori, do you think Madame Martine will cancel dance classes too?”

  “Probably, but let me check.” Tori accessed the studio blog on her phone. “Yes, the studio is closed until further notice.’”

  “I’m going straight home to take a shower.” George’s eyes were bloodshot. “I feel like the inside of an ashtray.”

  Raven was pacing near Tori’s locker when she arrived. “If you’ve got your clothes and things in your trunk, you can follow us back to Blackfriars,” he said.

  “Us?”

  “I drove Fletcher and Felicia to school in my father’s car this morning. None of us relished the idea of ash in our teeth.”

  She studied him a moment. His face looked drawn.

  “You look like you didn’t get any sleep.”

  “I didn’t.” His mouth turned down at the corners and he shook his head. “Let’s not talk about it here.”

  A nod. “Okay.”

  After she’d retrieved what she needed from her locker and zipped up her book bag, Raven automatically took it from her.

  “I can carry it,” she said. “You’ve already got yours.”

  He didn’t appear to be listening. “Come on. Fletcher and Felicia are waiting in the car.”

  Traffic was light on the way to Blackfriars, and Tori supposed people were choosing to stay indoors. She followed Raven up the driveway to the castle. To her surprise, Chase was standing at the top of a stepladder, helping Mr. Cassidy install a security camera. Raven offered to help, but his father waved him inside.

  “Thanks, but we’re going to finish this one and knock off for the day. It’s just too hard to breathe out here. Tori, welcome to Blackfriars.”

  Quigley, Raven, and Fletcher carried Tori’s things to her room. After she freshened up, she joined Raven in the den. As they relaxed on the couch, he detailed what had transpired since the party Saturday night and how Chase agreed to move to Blackfriars. When he described the meeting with Mr. Mime and the plan to lure the city’s demons into a portal to the underworld, she became alarmed.

  “That’s just crazy. We need to get rid of the demons, but not at the cost of your father’s life! We’ll just have to figure something else out.”

  “I’d be very grateful if you could convince him. My father and I have had our disagreements in the past, but I don’t want to lose him—particularly not to the underworld.”

  She took Raven’s hand. “Is that why you can’t sleep?”

  “Yes.” He sighed and pulled her into his arms. “I feel so frustrated, like a rat in a maze. I can’t see where I’m running and I keep hitting dead ends.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I thought we could trust Lord Birmingham, and now it looks like we can’t. We were hoping to forge an alliance with the vampires, but Fairchild wasn’t interested. I can’t help but think we’re missing something.” He nuzzled her hair with his lips. “The only thing that feels right is you.”

  Her body melted against him, and as she closed her eyes a feeling of joy filled her center and spread warmth through her veins. It’s a miracle I could be so happy in the midst of a crisis. Despite all the tragedy I’ve experienced, right now I’m the luckiest girl in the world. Her parents had always been so affectionate with one another. Perhaps even though they’d lived a life of subterfuge, they’d been contented too in their own way.

  “You’ve made me very happy.” She raised her head until she could see his eyes. “Just in case anything happens to me, I wanted you to know that.”

  “Nothing bad is going to happen to you. I guarantee it.”

  His lips caressed hers in a way that made Tori feel she’d been thoroughly kissed. She did her level best to return the favor.

  Chase’s presence at Blackfriars sent Felicia into a state of confusion. Perhaps it was unfair, but she saw him as a constant reminder of her grandfather’s treachery. On the other hand, she found him utterly attractive. Although the physical contact she’d had with him had largely been playacting for Oliver’s benefit, the sensations Chase had aroused within her had been real. Obviously, the sentiment was one-sided, since he’d made no effort to seek her out since his arrival. She felt his eyes on her from time to time, but nothing much could be read into that. For all she knew, the man regarded her as he would an interesting insect.

  Feeling the effects of the smoke, Felicia went directly to her room to change her clothes and wash her face. As she brushed bits of ash from her hair, her gaze fell on one of the small photographs she’d positioned on her dresser. It was a picture taken of her and Nicholai just before one of their last competitions. She stared at Nicholai’s features, so reminiscent of the young vampire she’d seen at Oliver’s house the previous evening. If only she could have had a better look, surely she would have seen the differences between them. It occurred to her perhaps Chase had met that particular vampire, either at a club or at Oliver’s house on some other occasion.

  With the photograph in hand, she left her room, walked to the men’s wing of the house, and knocked on Chase’s door. A deep voice answered from within. “Hang on.”

  The door opened, somewhat abruptly, to reveal a soaking wet Chase, clad only in a towel. Felicia’s jaw dropped. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” She backed away, stumbling on the edge of the carpet running the length of the hall. “I’ll come back later.”

  “Wait a minute while I get dressed.”

  He shut the door. Humiliated beyond belief, Felicia covered her face with her hand. I should have waited to speak with him after lunch instead of barging into his room! Underneath the embarrassment, however, was a deep appreciation for the man’s body. His skin was a uniform tan color, and beautifully smooth. He probably thinks I tried to catch a glimpse of him half-naked on purpose.

  When Chase reappeared, he’d donned jeans and a t-shirt. The fabric of the shirt clung to his torso in spots, as if he hadn’t toweled off all the moisture from his shower. A fresh wave of guilt made her wince. “Again, I’m awfully sorry to have disturbed you.”

  “I thought you were Fletcher or Raven, otherwise I wouldn’t have answered the door in a towel.” Chase threw his door open wide. “Come on in.”r />
  Felicia followed him into the room, desperately hoping her brother wouldn’t pass by and give her a hard time.

  “What can I do for you?” Chase asked.

  “Oh, um…I saw a vampire last night at Oliver’s mansion who reminded me very much of someone I once knew.” She thrust the photo into his hands. “Have you ever happened to meet him?”

  Chase examined the image. “This is a very pretty picture of you.”

  “Thank you. The boy standing next to me is Nicholai.”

  A slow nod. “I know who you mean now. I see the resemblance, but I’ve never spoken with this kid.” As he gave her back the photograph, his gaze was cool. “I’m sorry, but I can’t hook you two up.”

  “I didn’t want to ‘hook up’ with him!”

  “Women who party with vamps usually get bitten sooner or later, Felicia. Some of them want to be turned, hoping to hold onto or regain their youth. My advice to you is to stick with the living.”

  “Who said I wanted to party with vamps? You must have a very low opinion of me.”

  As she brushed past, he caught her arm. “I apologize if I read the situation wrong. And I don’t have a low opinion of you at all.”

  His unguarded expression made her anger evaporate, and something like electricity filled the air between them. Seconds ticked by as she held his gaze, wishing desperately he would kiss her. Instead, the moment passed and his hand dropped to his side. She hid her disappointment.

  “You’ve a funny way of showing it,” she murmured as she left the room.

  At lunch, Tori noticed Chase was looking everywhere but at Felicia, and vice versa. Have those two had an argument? In addition, he seemed extremely ill at ease. Maybe if I can get him to talk, it would help.

  “Chase, your accent is barely noticeable,” she said. “Did you study abroad?”

  “My father was educated in England, and my mother was a translator. They both spoke excellent English. Also, I attended an International school in Tokyo, so I grew up with British and American kids.”

  “Are there a great many demons in Tokyo?”

  “Yes, but most left and went to Fukushima when the cores melted. Demons are attracted by disasters. They feed on misery.”

  Kirsten’s sour face flashed into Tori’s mind. She’d mistakenly thought the girl was unhappy because of her imp, but she’d been almost as nasty after it had been slain. Kirsten was a miserable person, and if she refused to change, no doubt another imp would find its way onto her shoulder in the near future.

  “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Felicia asked.

  “None.”

  “Girlfriend?”

  He peered at her. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why don’t you have a boyfriend?” he shot back.

  “I’m…difficult.”

  For the first time, Tori heard Chase laugh—a genuine, relaxed sound of appreciation.

  “Well, I’m difficult too,” he said finally.

  Felicia’s gaze dropped to her plate. “That’s one thing we have in common.”

  “Um…Mr. Cassidy, I noticed you’re installing security cameras,” Tori said. “I’m wondering if a few anti-demon runes wouldn’t be beneficial as well? Mr. Mime uses one at his store and it’s very effective at keeping demons out.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Ian said.

  “You knew Mime was a warlock?” Raven asked Tori.

  “I hadn’t thought of him as a warlock, exactly, but I knew he works magic. He uses a glamour spell on Cody, for example, to make him appear human. I’m puzzled about something. I’ve heard you Shakespeareans talk about the shadow world and the underworld. Is there a difference?”

  “The shadow world refers to demons, vampires, werewolves, and other unnatural creatures that exist here on Earth,” Ian replied. “The underworld is a completely different dimension entirely. Hell, as people commonly think of it, is in the underworld, but the entire underworld isn’t Hell. Actual knowledge of the underworld is sketchy, however, because few humans ever return to tell us about it.”

  Tori’s gaze flickered briefly to Raven. “I don’t doubt Mime’s abilities, Mr. Cassidy, but this underworld portal idea seems extreme. It’s possible the demons will leave the city on their own after the Apocalypse fails to materialize. There’s no reason for you to sacrifice yourself.”

  “There are examples throughout mythology of beings who have returned from the underworld unscathed,” Ian said.

  “Hermes,” Fletcher said. “Orpheus. Heracles.”

  “Persephone,” Felicia said.

  “Odin and Baldr,” Chase said. “Izanagi and Izanami.”

  “Gilgamesh,” Ian said. “Osiris.”

  “Those are all mythical persons!” Raven exclaimed. “There has to be another way to exorcise the city without you becoming a suicidal Pied Piper to the denizens.”

  “I will grant you this much; the portal will be a last resort,” Ian said.

  “I’d like to hear you say it’s off the table,” Raven said.

  “I can’t tell you that right now, lad,” Ian said. “I’m sorry.”

  Raven’s eyebrows drew together, but he made no response. Tori wished she could say something to make him feel better, but she knew her words would be empty. At this point, they were all in uncharted territory and there were no such things as absolutes.

  The afternoon was devoted to whatever homework assignments had been posted on the school website. After hammering out a sheet of math problems, Tori grew restless. She sent her foster mother a text message from her cell phone, but didn’t expect an immediate reply. Misty’s flight from LAX took her to Washington, D.C., where she had an even longer flight to Rio. I probably won’t hear from her until tomorrow. Setting an English essay aside for the moment, Tori donned tights and a leotard, pulled on a pair of shorts, and brought a battered but comfortable pair of toe shoes down to the gym. During her previous tour of Blackfriars, she’d noticed the sprung-wood flooring, with a ballet barre mounted to a mirrored wall at one end. It made a perfect dance studio, and since she would be missing her Samba and pointe classes that day, she was in dire need of exercise.

  The gym was unoccupied. Tori began at the barre, paying particular attention to working her entire foot in first through fifth positions. It felt wonderful to stretch out the tension in her muscles. When she was warmed up, she moved away from the barre and worked on combinations.

  Reflected movement in the mirror made her hesitate. Raven’s here. He wore sweatpants over his narrow hips, running shoes, and a close-fitting sleeveless t-shirt that showed off his musculature to perfection. Although she was full from lunch, suddenly she felt hungry.

  “Don’t stop,” he said. “What you’re doing is beautiful.”

  She beckoned him over. “Take off your shoes and come here. I can use a strong pair of hands.”

  His expression was dubious, but he did as she asked. She directed him where and how to put his hands to support her in a penché and then in a series of pirouettes.

  “Now rest your hands on my waist, walk in a circle, turning me as I stay en pointe,” she said, her leg in attitude.

  Albeit awkwardly, he complied.

  “See, we’re dancing together,” she said. “You’re a marvelous partner.”

  “You’re dancing. I’m just a prop.”

  Unable to resist the temptation, Tori danced around him in a seductive, teasing fashion.

  He grinned. “Oh what I wouldn’t give for seven veils right now.”

  “I think you’d look silly in seven veils,” she joked. “I’d rather see you in a pair of black tights.”

  He chuckled. “I came down here in a rather foul mood, but you’ve distracted me admirably.”

  “Good.” She performed a pas de bourrée couru, gliding toward him en pointe across the floor. When she was on her toes, her mouth lined up perfectly with his, so she gave him a kiss.

  “I love dancing with you, Raven.”

  “If
you’re up to it, I’ll show you how to kickbox after dinner tonight. With those legs of yours, you’ll be lethal.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  He slid his hands around her waist and growled in her ear like a tiger. “Because you’re killing me, girl.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Pas de Deux

  MISTY FINALLY RETURNED Tori’s text message, letting her know she’d arrived in Rio safely. With that worry put to rest, Tori treasured the next few days off from school. Blackfriars became a cocoon, a refuge from the chaos raging in Los Angeles. Fires continued to blaze across the city, but at least they were contained. As promised, Raven showed Tori how to kickbox. He expressed amazement at the ease with which she picked up the various kicking techniques, but Felicia, who was acting as his assistant, sniffed in disdain.

  “It’s too…pretty,” she said. “This is combat, not dance. Work on your power.”

  She held a kicking pad at shoulder height and had Tori fire off roundhouse after roundhouse until she could drive the pad backward from the impact. Felicia’s small smile of satisfaction was her reward.

  “Not bad. Keep working on it.”

  Ian invited Mr. Mime and Cody over for dinner, and asked the warlock to cast anti-demon rune spells over all the points of entry. While Mime was working his magic, Cody gave everyone else a capoeira demonstration in the gym. Tori giggled when she noticed his hooves were sporting metal studs.

  “Why would a Satyr from Jamaica take up capoeira?” Felicia asked.

  “I needed to defend myself from bullies. I didn’t have a glamour spell when I was a kid, so I was teased about my legs. After a while, nobody teased me anymore.”

  Since the Brazilian martial art relied on a great many gymnastics moves, Fletcher was particularly good at it. He loved showing off his one-armed handstands and aerial cartwheels.

  His sister rolled her eyes. “What a preening peacock.”

  Schools around town remained closed all week. On Friday at breakfast, Ian said he’d received a robocall and an email that morning regarding the reopening of Performing Arts Prep on Monday. Tori was surprised at the sick feeling of dread that suddenly seized her stomach at the realization her birthday—the real one—was Tuesday. She gripped the table and her palms began to sweat.