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That the world's a beautiful sunlit meadow flanked by some truly wretched dark forests and if I take enough of his drugs I can stay inside that meadow, or at least as close to the perimeter as my vampire soul will let me get? Thanks. No. "
"Vampire soul?" He lifted a brow. "You don't drain life, dearest. " He tightened his grasp so she couldn't draw away. "On the contrary, I feel more alive when I'm around you. "
"Where are you taking me?" Marguerite grasped for something safe, since he seemed determined to drag her into murky waters.
"This is the new wing. We're hoping to open it up for rental sometime in the fall.
This foyer will be the twin of the hall we just left. The same artist will be doing frescoes, sculptures and a ceiling mural with different scenes, an original work just like that one.
There will be ten new playrooms here instead of thirty. We've made them larger for more expansive role-playing, bigger groups or small parties. Special effects technology will give it even more options. "
"I suppose that's where your contacts in the movie industry made you a very desirable partner. "
"One of the many reasons I'm a very desirable partner," he agreed, giving her a wink, an astonishing bit of flirtation that did in fact amuse her. "Here it is. " Unlocking one of the doors, he gestured her in, snapping on the lights.
The floor of the large room was still plywood, the walls only primed. A great deal of electrical work was going on, equipment hanging from the ceiling. Tyler stepped over and into a frame built of two-by-fours that looked like it was intended to be sheet-rocked into a hidden control room.
"I thought you said it's almost finished. "
"It is. The hard part. Programming the lights, the sound. " He gestured to the speakers. "With this kind of setup, you want to get everything right before you rough in the floor, walls, et cetera, because when we're done almost none of this will show.
There'll be access panels for repairs but those will be well concealed. Would you stand in the center of the room for me, in that circle marked with orange tape?" Boys and their toys, she concluded. He was intent on what he was doing, his fascination with the control panel obvious. She wanted to brush the soft strands of hair over his forehead, see if he would smile distractedly at her. Instead, she went to the circle. She froze as the room went completely dark.
"Tyler - "
"Hold on. "
Spotlights came on from various positions on the ceiling, strobing smoothly over the room. She jumped as the light revealed a man and woman whirling past her in a tight turn. She spun at another motion behind her and let out a startled yelp as this pair of dancers passed right through her, molecules of light and color. Like the other couple, they were doing a graceful ballroom dance across the room, the woman's skirt flowing out from her like the glittering sweep of a peacock's fantail.
When he pressed another series of buttons, the dancers changed. Now she found herself on the stage of Swan Lake. Prince Siegfried knelt before her, his holographic face lifted to her with
a surreal sad expression as if he was looking at his precious Odette.
The music came in then, the strains of the classical piece. The prince gracefully leaped from her, his muscular body perfect, movements of effortless grace among the froth of lace-clad ballerinas. The music drifted off, the images fading.
As she looked over at Tyler, he gave her a smile, though she noted there were shadows in his amber eyes as he watched the ballerinas fade to ghostlike images before disappearing entirely. But his fingers were moving. Now the speakers offered her a primitive, tribal piece. He made more adjustments to the lighting and the room was full of shadows like flickering firelight. Overhead a wash of stars were flung against the night sky, surrounding a heavy yellow moon. She was by a large fire surrounded by African women wearing colorful scarves wrapped tightly about ample hips, their upper bodies bare, jewels glittering on their arms and necks. Medallions struck against their breasts as they stomped and circled, slowed, sped up, dancing for the gods above to answer their prayers.
Or perhaps they were simply moving the way the music told them to move. The heavy beat resonated inside her most vital organs, making her want to join them, to let go of thought and simply move, open her body to the night. The women turned outward, moving forward, their thighs spreading out, hands reaching up to cup their full breasts. The whites of their eyes, the dark irises, glowed with firelight.
It was marvelous. She saw where Tyler was planning to take it. Even now, unfinished, the detail shone through. She noted he was studying something about the bonfire, making some adjustments. If he found something wrong, she suspected he'd be driving the special effects team insane tomorrow, because he would demand that it be perfect.
The program changed. She was in a club, Latino couples moving in silent, erotic dances with lots of close, undulating movements. The men stripped down to their jeans, the women in slit skirts and silken tops, club wear meant to titillate, their hair brushing their partners as they moved together almost as one body, feeling the music.
There were storyboards leaning against the wall which showed the design of gleaming hardwood that would be the floor, the chandeliers done in an art deco platinum that would hide further projection equipment, the walls in simple white, for they would be further areas to project the decor desired for each programmed scene.
As if reading her thoughts, a silhouette of figures appeared on the white expanse of the wall before her, spotlighted over the dancers' heads. The shadow of a woman, a man kneeling before her, his arms obviously bound behind his back. The woman adjusted cloth at her elbow, revealing that she wore elbow-length gloves. As she put her hands on his chest, she pushed him back slowly, moving him up to his heels so the impressive shaft of his erection was visible, jutting up from the black column of his thighs. Keeping one hand at his throat, collaring him to stillness, she reached down and gripped it. His head fell back to his shoulders in shuddering reaction.
The woman straightened, her lips moving in another command that could not be heard, that did not need to be heard. Her submissive came forward on his knees again, started to lean forward. Stepping around and behind him with one, two long-legged, sauntering strides, she drew attention to the jut of her breasts, the curve of her hip, somehow all the more prominent because only the dark outline of her could be seen.
Gripping his wrists, likely where the bindings joined, avoiding direct contact with his fingers, she put her hand to the small of his back and pushed him down. An apparent rough move but with her hands on the bindings it was a controlled descent. She braced her weight and made sure his face went safely, slowly to the floor, leaving his haunches high in the air. It was a poignant scene, her total control underscored by her careful protection of him.
When she prodded him with a spike heel, he automatically lifted his buttocks even higher. She stood back, arms crossed under those proud breasts. Marguerite could tell she held a slender switch in her right hand.
Tilting her head, she visualized the moment in detail. "This is me. With Marius, last fall. "
"You've a good memory. " Tyler moved through the flickering world of the dancers, coming to her side. He considered the images above them. "We pulled quite a few remarkable pieces like this from the security tapes. All transformed to silhouette work of course, though later we might ask the permission of the participants to portray them in full detail, within the walls of The Zone only, of course. "
"But you didn't feel you needed permission for this. "
