Free Illuminate by Aimee Agresti Page A

else, an iciness I couldn’t understand. I wanted to know where all these beautiful people had come from that they were so oddly alike. Dante was dancing in the middle of the group, but by himself. I looked through the mob to Lance. He gave a sympathetic shrug—he had seen me literally get the cold shoulder. I answered him back with a shake of the head and felt the embarrassment dissipate, newly calmed. Raphaella looked over her shoulder, canvassing the grounds below. The thought of sitting any longer in silence seemed worse than having to try again. So I did. No one knew us here, as Dante said. I could be brave.
    “I, um, like your necklace,” I said, sounding like a child. But it was pretty impressive: a stiff black-velvet ribbon choker holding what looked like an amethyst the size of a walnut. I glanced quickly again at that girl on the dance floor, Calliope—yes, she had one too. And I spotted one on another delicate swan-like neck or two on the other side of the platform. I pictured these women all shopping together, roaming the mall at Water Tower Place or perhaps ducking into some of those precious boutiques in Wicker Park that Joan always tried to get me into. I could imagine them walking down the street, shopping bags in hand, talking and laughing at inside jokes, and not even noticing the stares they got as they passed. Raphaella touched the stone with raisin-painted nails and smiled once more.
    “Thank you.”
    Calliope, finished dancing for the moment, appeared with a drink in her hand and Raphaella slid over to make room for her between us.
    “I’m Calliope,” she said, holding out her hand for me to shake. Her periwinkle eyes seemed somehow slightly more alive than Raphaella’s. I shook her firm grip.
    “Hi, I’m—”
    “Haven, of course,” she said, surprising me. “Are they recruiting you?” She said it with a seriousness I couldn’t make sense of, leaning in closer to me. I didn’t quite understand the question.
    “Oh, well, we were just—”
    “There’s a lot to learn here,” Calliope said sincerely. Raphaella set her hand on Calliope’s forearm, and they exchanged a look that seemed to tell Calliope she was done talking to me, because she didn’t say another word. She simply nodded blankly at Raphaella and then they gazed over the low flames to scan the scene below us. I followed Calliope’s eyes until I saw her lock in on him. He wasn’t one of the Outfit; just another guy out for an evening with his buddies. And he saw her.
    Calliope simply smiled, perfect and gleaming. She flicked her head and that was it. The man wandered over toward our platform, staring up at her. She beckoned him with her slim fingers. Then she and Raphaella looked knowingly at each other. I imagined Raphaella was equally skilled in this sort of mating call. I had always wished to be the kind of girl who could rely on simply a smile to ensnare anyone. Win anyone over. They knew they had an advantage: that they were desired, and that was half the battle, more than half, toward getting anything they desired. Instant confidence lay behind smiles like that. Others of us shared the burden of having to develop some personality, which actually took time and cultivation; it’s a much slower process wrought by trial and error.
    “Have a good night, Haven. If you’ll excuse me,” said Calliope, as she rose gently from her seat and glided over to the top of the spiral staircase. In no time, he was there, looking nervous and thrilled.
    I felt the champagne glass being pried from my fingers and I whipped my head around. Lucian.
    It took me a moment to realize he was talking to me. What did he say? I think it was “Hello, Haven.” But I might have been wrong. Was it possible he remembered my name? He sat down beside me, in the space left blissfully vacant by Calliope. There wasn’t much room and his arm touched my shoulder as he settled into place. A wave of his musk and cedar scent enveloped me and made me