CHAPTER TWO
Dimitri squeezes meas we wave to the audience and take a bow. The curtain closes, and I can’t wipe the smile off my face. Tears spring from my eyes, and I’m swept up in a huge hug, first by Blane and then by D. I almost drop the oversized arrangement in my hands. I’m exhausted, I ache all over, my feet are on fire, and I need a long soak in a tub before crawling into bed, butI did it.
“You fucking killed it,zvyozdochka.”
“Look who’s talking,” I pant, holding tightly to him as he spins us around in circles. I’m dizzy and breathless, and as Dimitri turns us in a full revolution, I spot a man in the wings, wearing a tux. He has dark, penetrating eyes and wild, black hair. Tattoos kiss the edges of his collar and his strong, square hands. I roll my gaze up to his. He’s watching us as though we’re acquainted. “D, put me down.”
My best friend follows my line of sight. “Holy shit, who’s the hottie?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper, righting my swan crown, and smoothing my hands over my leotard as my feet touch the ground. The heady, cloying scent of the flowers in my hands gives me a headache.I need to eat. I need to steal away to my dressing room, change, decompress, and compose myself before talking to the public. “An investor, maybe?”
“He can invest in me anytime. It just so happens that I’m in the market for a sugar daddy.”
“Stop it,” I hiss, straightening my spine. I give the stranger a small smile, but his dark eyes narrow, and without a word, he turns and walks away. “Well that was weird.”
I glance at D, who merely shrugs and takes my hand. “Come, my queen. As fabulous as you look in a swan tiara, it’s time to put away your crown. Besides, your very own sugar daddy is waiting.”
“You know he hates it when you call him that.”
“I know, little star. That’s why I do it.”
We hurry through corridors bustling with ballerinas. There are pointe shoes, tulle, and half-naked bodies everywhere I turn. I hug several of my friends in the corps and accept their congratulations, and D drops me off at my private dressing room with another tight squeeze and a kiss against my forehead. I’m practically floating as I set the flowers down and sit in front of the mirror, pulling the pins from my hair along with my swan tiara. The makeup comes off next, and my lashes are plucked off one by one and stored in their little pink case until tomorrow. White squares of makeup-removing wipes decorate my table, all covered with foundation, concealer, and black eye makeup. I go through several before I clean my face with micellar water and just sit.
It’s not unusual for me to sit and stare into space after I dance. As a kid, it made my mother and father anxious. It annoys the hell out of Parker, but I can’t help it. Even D knows I need time to decompress, to allow my pent-up excitement, adrenalin and all of the emotion I feel when I dance to just slowly ebb away. It’s like coming up for air after being submerged for too long. Only this time, when I bring my focus back to center and I see myself in the mirror, there’s a man standing behind me.
“I know you,” I whisper, as if in a dream.
His brow furrows as he stares at me, his previously tattooed hands now covered with black leather gloves. I whip around. His hands encircle my throat and squeeze, lifting me inches off my chair. My fingers claw at his, scratching the soft leather, grappling for purchase, for breath as I’m dragged by the throat to the wall. The cinderblock grazes my back. His eyes are cold—as black and emotionless as Von Rothbart’s as he casts his spell over Odette. He slams me against the brick with brutal force, crushing my windpipe. A sharp, piercing pain reverberates through my skull. I attempt to cry out, but his grip is too tight. My lungs constrict, fighting for air, for breath he will not allow me to take.
“No, you don’t know me.” A half-smile tips up his lips. His teeth are so white, like the swans’ tulle skirts when the lights hit them just right, and just as vertiginous.
My head spins.So dizzy. Like falling from the heights of the cliff when Odette jumps and ends her life, her curse. Though this time, there’s no soft gym mattress to break my fall. Only darkness, tattoos, the strong peppery scent of an unfamiliar man, and those black, fathomless eyes.
“Not yet, Pet. But you and I are going to get very well acquainted.”