“Did it ever occur to you that I am giving you my full attention because I believe you are worth my time? That, of all your classmates, you are the one who draws my eye—mistakes and all? The one I might one day be able to mold into a professional danseur.”
I bit down on my lower lip and stared at him because I was afraid to look away. I didn’t trust my voice. “No, I guess it didn’t.”
“Then you are quite stupid.”
I glared at him and he smiled.
“That’s the spirit. I do so enjoy your stubborn streak.” He shook his head and sighed. “Well, I’m afraid you’ve given me very few answers and have only left me with more questions. I suppose it would be worth my time to try to solve this mystery. Can I take you to dinner?”
“Now?”
“Yes, now is the time of day when people usually eat a third meal.”
This man was confusing as hell. I’d gone from thinking I was going to get kicked out of school, to worrying I was going to be sent to a mental ward, to being told I was stupid, to getting asked out to dinner. My head was spinning, but my answer came pretty easily.
“I don’t think so, Sergei. Like I said before, I have a boyfriend, and he’s the jealous type.”
Sergei nodded slowly. “Yes, the demon boyfriend.”
I could tell he didn’t believe me, but if he knew what you were capable of, he wouldn’t be trying to get with me in the first place. “He cuts off people’s fingers,” I reminded him.
Sergei grinned. I wished you were there to make something fly across the room, just to scare him a little and wipe that smug look off his face.
“Perhaps I will encounter this demon boyfriend one day. What did you say his name was?”
“Henri. But honestly, I don’t think you’d want to meet him.”
Sergei shrugged. “One day you will realize demons can only do so much for you, but I, Mr. Bell, can open many, many doors.” He reached for the shoebox and handed it to me. “Your memento.”
I stuffed the box under my arm, not really knowing what else to say. “Thanks for the talk. And sorry about all the absences last week.”
Sergei leaned toward me and laid one hand on my knee like he owned it. “Consider my offer.”
My eyes traveled from his hand to his lips, stretched thin in a predatory smile. I was shocked at how ballsy he was in pursuing me. I’d just turned eighteen, and he was the much older director of my ballet school. Wasn’t he worried about his job or how that kind of scandal might look to the school’s board of directors?
I stood awkwardly and shuffled to the door. I felt his eyes on my ass the whole way out.
Bruno met me in the hallway. His eyes widened when he saw what I was carrying.
“You could have warned me,” I fussed.
“Sorry,fofo.He told me not to. You in trouble?”
“No, it’s cool. We worked it out.”
Bruno shook his head and chuckled. Oh yeah, it was fucking hilarious. If I thought my sense of humor was fucked up, Bruno’s was even more so. Derek’s severed finger was actually theleastweird thing about that conversation. But the whole experience did give me an idea. I could credit Master Sergei Voronin for helping me solve the dilemma of getting you a body.
We just needed the wrong kind of man.
17
Henri
You entered your apartment with a bounce to your step I’d not seen since your birthday.
“Henri,” you announced loudly as if I might not have heard you. “I have an idea.”
“I’m listening.”
