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Yasuo studied them, a look of male wonder on his face. “I dunno, Blondie, I think they’re kind of hot. You might break an ankle, but at least you’ll look smokin’ doing it. ”
“Up, up. ” Mr. Clapper clapped again. “You must pay special attention. For you will be using these skills at an end-of-summer dance. ”
We all looked at one another, uncertain we’d heard correctly. Did he mean dance, as in the verb to dance, as in we’ll have to dance at the end of term for a final test or showcase or something? Or was he saying dance, as in a dance—the noun—as in homecoming, hoedown, ball, fete, prom…dance.
“We shall,” he continued, “all of u
s, be gathering to celebrate the end of the Dimming and the blessed return to darkness. Trainees, Acari, Initiates, Watchers, Vampires, too. And in preparation, Acari Drew has generously volunteered to partner with me for today’s instruction. ”
I gulped.
Yas muttered under his breath, “Get back, sister. ”
I glared. My friend was lucky I didn’t impale him with one of my newly acquired heels.
Master Dagursson held his hand out, beckoning me closer. “She will obviously have a different partner at our dance. But, for now, hopefully I will suffice. ”
I went cold. A different partner. Dagursson had said it as though he knew something I didn’t, and I got the feeling he wasn’t referring to Yasuo. The implications made my skin prickle with foreboding.
“The word is Spanish, for ‘double time,’” Dag said, droning on about the Glories of the Paso Doble.
My belly knotted. Spanish. I knew just who’d ordered this, and I had a feeling it was a special request going out just for me.
“It is to be performed with drama, with strength of feeling and movement, full of spectacle. It is a man’s dance, like a bullfight, with the leader acting the part of the matador. ”
What? Yasuo mouthed at me.
Bullfighter, I mouthed back. A man’s dance. Surprise surprise.
“And the female…” Dagursson paused for dramatic effect.
I raised a brow. Girls danced the part of the bull?
“Dances the part of the cape,” pronounced Dagursson with a grin. “Though some say she enacts the role of the matador’s shadow. ”
My shoulders slumped. I couldn’t even play a bull? We might be fearsome kick-ass killers, but girls seemed to be the submissive ones on this island. Apparently we didn’t even get to enact the role of an animate object—instead, we were expected to dance around like some guy’s cape, or shadow.
Dagursson strolled to his iPod. There was an overloud clicking as he zipped to the correct track. And then Spanish trumpets blared and ostentatious classical guitar thrummed off the studio walls.
The ancient Viking began prowling his way toward me, and I had to swallow a laugh. It was just too surreal. With one hand over his pelvis and one in the air, he was sashaying those hips as if there were no tomorrow.
He came to stand beside me, speaking in his grand dance instructor voice. “The Paso Doble is a dance of passion. ” He did a little step-step grapevine move, and it was a wonder he didn’t dislocate something. If only his ancestors could see him now—I didn’t imagine he was winning his ticket to Valhalla with these Dancing with the Stars moves.
“You must loosen your joints,” he said, slinking behind me. “Free your hips. It is a dance of sensuality, of sexuality. But it is also a dance of power. ” He grabbed me from behind, and I startled. “A contact dance. ”
I hoped my disgust wasn’t apparent on my face. I stifled a shudder as he pulled me back into his stomach.
“Take my hand,” he ordered. “Spread your other arm. ”
The moment I did, he startled me again, spinning me in, then out again. So much for sexy…Mostly I just felt dizzy.
He reeled me back in, slamming me into his chest, belly to belly this time, and my breath escaped with an oof. I didn’t know jack about the Paso Doble, but I didn’t think it was supposed to feel this erratic.
He hugged me closer. “Grab me. ”
I did not. I would not.
He snatched my hips and ground me close, shouting, “Grab me, Acari. From behind. ”
