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to ask, something to show how serious I was—something also that would force Lucian to look at me. His gaze remained firmly set on Aurelia, his eyes traveling over her face like ocean waves lapping at rock, painting her with devoted attention as she spoke. And who could blame him? She had such presence. You could feel the control in her voice, in her sharp movements and the forthright, steady pace of her walk. She was so unlike the women I knew, the no-nonsense, practical, get-the-job-done women at the hospital, like Joan. There was a polish to Aurelia. Could that be learned? Or was it just something you either had or you didn’t, the way that seemingly overnight some of the girls at school had become these creatures who could lure and lasso even the most elusive boys?
    As we wandered, so did my mind, more than I would have liked. But I was tired. We all were. I caught Lance stifling a yawn at one point. The place was mammoth and we covered a lot of ground.
    I scoped out so many intriguing spots I hoped to inspect more closely. On the main floor, in addition to the library, there would be a restaurant called Capone and a lounge called the Parlor—these were located to the right and left of the main entrance. Back near the elevator to the Vault, tucked behind the thick folds of a gold and burgundy velvet curtain, was a glass door leading into what would be the hotel’s own art gallery, which would be a museum of macabre artifacts from Chicago’s sordid past with plenty of original works of art and photography by local artists mixed in. For now it was no more than an empty expanse of blank white walls and glass cases, just waiting for beautiful and special things to display. Another elevator led down to a posh and tranquil spa.
    On the second floor at the top of the grand staircase, behind ivory-paneled doors, was the ballroom, complete with a painted ceiling that was the hotel’s answer to the Sistine Chapel. However, instead of the heavenly creatures depicted there, this length of ceiling was a stormy sky festooned with heavy and foreboding clouds, lightning bolts so vivid you could almost hear the crackling thunder that would accompany them, ravens and crows flying in formation, and other dark-winged, part-human characters slinging arrows, gorgeous but deadly.
    By the time Aurelia led us all back down these stairs, my feet were aching—unaccustomed as they were to doing this much walking in anything other than sneakers.
    At last, she dismissed us. “I’d like you to take the rest of the day to acquaint yourselves with the rich charms of your new surroundings, find your rooms, and so forth. Should we need you for anything, we’ll find you.” We thanked her in unison, as the Outfit slithered away without a sound. Lucian slipped back into that infamous darkened hallway behind the front desk and Aurelia pranced toward the library. Lance, Dante, and I were all fishing in our gift bags for the keycards to our rooms, when the sharp footsteps stopped and I heard that low rasp again.
    “Haven, a moment,” Aurelia called from the middle of the sprawling lobby, gesturing for me.
    “Yes, Ms. Brown,” I answered in my brightest, most respectful tone. I waved Dante and Lance on without me, as my nerves began their steady, ominous climb to the top of a roller coaster.
    “Aurelia, please,” she corrected as she started walking again, not waiting for me. I was jogging now, racing to get to her faster.
    “Of course. Aurelia.” I tried, but it sounded funny. I couldn’t quite call her that, even though, if we had met under different circumstances and she was dressed more like me, I might have mistaken her for a peer. Panting, I caught up with her.
    “I have a project for you to begin, if you please.”
    “I can’t wait!” I nodded, too much, too eager, my head bobbing around. My feet couldn’t match the rhythm of her steps. I bumbled along.
    “The gallery is to be a focal point of the Lexington, a cultural cornerstone,