Alora swung the cloak from her shoulders, baring her arms and cooling her skin. She turned to place it on the nearest divan when William emerged from the shadows. “Allow me,” he said, and with an obvious perusal of her form, took the cloak from her. “Enjoy the show.”
“Oh,” said Alora, reeling somewhat. “You’re practicing too?”
“It’s an act,” said Lennox, now bent fully in half. “And this scene is new. You picked the perfect day to come to Opulence, Alora. How lucky.”
Alora palmed her cheeks when William untied his robe and threw it into the fire. She found sudden interest in the walls and the floor, anything to detract from the sight of so much bare skin. Like Lennox, his costume was crimson, satin and snug against his thighs. He wore no shirt.
“Have a seat, Alora!” called Lennox, and Alora shuffled obediently to the nearest divan, crossing her legs and fortifying her breaths. Only then did she look to the fireplace.
They lay intertwined at the bottom, limbs wrapped around limbs and Lennox’s head to William’s bare chest, obscured in a wreath of flame. From all around a soft instrument strummed, joined by others in time, until a haunting melody played. Alora soon found her breath would not come. Carefully, unwinding his legs from his partner’s, pulling his arm from beneath her body, William stood.
Alora gaped, for where she’d seen just pale skin before, was now bubbled and crisp, charring where he stood, buried in steadily rising flames. She half-stood until he speared her with a glance, smiling devilishly, his body moving with the music. A dance. When the charred bits of skin fell away, new skin appeared, white and unmarked.
He’d said he would heal, and he’d told her true.
Lennox stirred next, crawling through fire, her bare legs leaving trails of flame through the coals. Her skin remained untouched, and when she shifted onto her back, fanning her fiery hair out around her, it didn’t catch either, but shimmered like silk against the coal bed. When William lowered a blackened hand toward her, she grasped it with her own.
It was a lover’s dance, that much she could see, but one not meant to be. They weren’t right for each other, and no matterhow each of them tried, it kept cycling back to one of them folded in the coals, burning and burning. Only Lennox couldn’t burn, and William couldn’t stay that way, and when the dance ended and the flames were snuffed out, Alora found herself standing with tears tracking down her cheeks, clapping until her palms stung.
“Beautiful,” said Alora to the pair of them. “Astonishing. The talent you have.” She meant it with all of her heart.
“Thank you,” said Lennox, and left the fireplace to kiss her quick on the cheek.
Alora beamed brighter, turning to William and finding his skin cleared. She didn’t wish to call attention to the fact that he’d told her he could feel the pain of it, so she didn’t, though she desperately wanted to know why he'd chosen this, of all things, as a career. She’d been horrorstruck at first, which quickly gave way to fascination, but now that the song had ended and the dance was done, the wrongness of it began to creep back in, dampening her enthusiasm. She forced her smile steady.
“If this is what awaits members of Opulence Mansion, I may utilize my membership after all,” Alora said. “Are there more performers here right now?”
“There are,” said Lennox. “Though we aren’t allowed—”
“It’s nearly dusk,” interrupted William, retrieving Alora’s cloak from a concealed panel in the wall. “You should go.”
Another facet of the contract: Alora wasn’t to be present during operating hours. And apparently William knew this.
In a quite baffling move, he drew the cloak around her shoulders, working the clasp, his fingers cool at her throat. “I’d tell you to stay, but you look as if you catch fire too easily.”
Taken aback, Alora blinked up at him. “What does that mean?”
But William didn’t answer, settling instead for dipping his gaze to her mouth and lingering, intention clear. She swallowed.
“Hurry on then, Alora. I don’t wish to see you punished! Perhaps we will see each other again soon. I hope so!”
Alora could only offer a hurried goodbye and rushed well-wishes before she was out the door and back onto the landing.
Punished?she wondered.What an odd choice of word.
Chapter Eight
The little gold bell chimed her wish to exit at the gate, the small sign above it reading:Ring If You Wish to Depart. Alora stepped back as the gate swung toward her.
“Hello!” she said, when the guard was revealed. “I—”
The pinched expression beneath his crimson helm stilled her.
“Pull up your hood, Miss Pennigrim. Hurry! Quicker than that!”
Alora’s fingers fumbled with her hood, catching in her hair. She trembled all over merely because of the trembling she heard in his voice. “Whatever is the matter?”
“You’relate. It’s dusk. And if you don’t rush away now, I’m frightened you’ll never leave.”
