Page 4 of The Vampire’s Ballerina

“See you later!” Haven says just as I lift my hand and say, “Bye!”

Maya waves at us and grabs her purse, leaving the room arm in arm with Maddie.

The door shuts behind them, and Haven turns her knowing eyes back on me. She pulls her knees to her chest and scoots closer. I avoid her gaze, crumpling up the foil from my burrito and tossing it into the trash can near her sound system. It bounces off the rim and into the bin, the noise echoing through the now quiet room.

Haven taps me with her foot. “Spill.”

“There’s nothing to spill.” I mirror her posture, sitting toe-to-toe with her. “I slept with Reid—several times—and it was hot. I haven’t had a night like that in…well, honestly, I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve had a good fuck. But I needed it, and I feel better now.”

That’s mostly true. Reid was good. I didn’t lie when I said he fulfilled a need.

It was fun. He’s attractive. But my body craves more. It craves the forbidden fruit dangling in front of me day in and day out, teasing my heart and creating an ache in my soul.

My true tastes are more mature.

My true tastes lie with someone older, someone who has experienced the world and all it has to offer. Someone whose strength and power aren’t seen but felt, who carries the silent grace of a predator. Someone with a darkness that beckons and dances with the touch of darkness in me, like a flame summoning an unsuspecting moth.

Except I’m not unsuspecting. I know the dangers surrounding him, but it doesn’t make me want him any less. If anything, it makes me want him more. If he is a predator, I’d gladly be his prey. If he is a flame, I’d fly into his inferno willingly.

But I can’t.

“What about—”

“That’s a dead end.” I hug my knees tighter. “Nothing can come of it. For several reasons.”

“Come on. I see the way you look at him, and—”

“There is a line, Haven, a line we as dancers have to tread carefully. Directors are off-limits. You and I both know that. I’ve seen it happen too many times to too many promising dancers. If something were to happen—if we had a falling out—my name could be forever sullied.”

Haven reaches out and takes my hand. My body relaxes, the tension I’ve carried from hiding my stress and woes eased by her simple gesture.

“I hate to see you miss out on true happiness because you’re worried about saving face, Immy,” she says. “It is different in their world than it is for humans. And he’s not the type to be vindictive if things didn’t work out.”

“I doubt he even feels the same about me.”

“But what if he does?”

I stare at her, my teeth clenching as my heart skips a beat.

What if he does?

It’s a possibility I haven’t dared let myself consider. Because if he does, would it even matter? The line would still exist. People would still talk, still judge, still assume I was using him to get ahead.

“You told me once I needed to let go of my perfectionist technique. I’m telling you that you need to let go of everyone else’s expectations and live your life. Your life, Imogen. Not someone else’s.”

I swallow and lick my lips, pulling my hand from hers. The moment we stop touching, the light dims and my tension and hesitation return. They creep back in at a snail’s pace at first, then gain speed with each passing second.

“I should go.” I stand and cross the room to get my bag. “I’ll see you later.”

Haven waves, a sad smile tugging at her lips. I slip out of the room and the house without interruption, making my way to my car.

The entire drive home, her words echo in my mind.

Let go of everyone’s expectations.

She’s right. In my soul, in my heart, I know she is. I want to do what she suggested—to live my life as the real Imogen without worrying what other people will think.

The problem is, I’m not sure I know how to do that.