The music starts to shift from heavy, upbeat bass to something more sultry, the lighting dimming even further. People taper off from dancing, vying for closer spots to the stage with excited shouts and catcalls, the regulars understanding what the change in atmosphere signifies. As much as we hate the bodies jostling into us, like hell we’re about to sit on the sidelines for this, especially with how nervous Risa was.
Crystal emerges first, warming up the crowd and dancing, and I cock my head to the side, surprised. Honestly, I was expecting a basic strip show, but as the music shifts alongside her movements, it’s more like telling an erotic story. She manages to convey the shy, innocent, imprisoned vibe well, despite the transparent scarves layered over her body.
When Risa appears, it becomes hard to breathe, everything else falling away. Around her waist is a layer of sheer, dark purple and black scarves, fringed in gold that catches the low lighting. Her black leather bra is laced together loosely in the front, leaving an abundance of skin on display that has my mouth watering.
Slowly, she approaches the other woman like a wolf eyeing a rabbit, each step fluid and seamless. With her fingertips, she caresses Crystal’s jaw, skimming over her bottom lip with a wicked glint in her violet eyes. The two begin a dance of light and dark clashing, balancing each other until it’s clear that Risa starts to corrupt her, Crystal’s movements become more brazen.
Gripping her hip as Crystal wraps a leg around Risa’s back, Risa supports her as she bends backward, my mate dipping her head to bite the fabric at her friend’s hip and untying it with her teeth. It falls to the ground on top of the small amount of bills tossed up there so far, but it picks up quickly with each additional scarf that Risa peels from Crystal’s body, no matter if it’s with her hands or mouth.
“A dollar, seriously?” Stryker demands, briefly drawing my eye away from the stage as he smacks the arm of the guy standing beside him. “Do you have any idea how much effort it takes to pull that move off? You want them to keep doing these shows or not, cheapskate?” The man nervously tosses up a ten, Stryker nodding and clapping him on the back. “Smart man.”
Turning away from them, a nagging in the back of my head has me pausing, scanning the crowd surrounding me for a solid two minutes trying to figure out what has my hackles rising. Pressing the tip of my tongue against my sharpening tooth to try and keep myself in check, I glare at the shifter from the clothing store hungrily watching the stage. Despite recognizing Risa and knowing we’re likely around after the prior confrontation, there isn’t an ounce of fear on his face, just blatant lust and longing.
I miss the lawless wilderness, where people are wise enough to be afraid. Here, they put far too much stock in the safety of numbers, using it to get away with far more than they ever could outside of the city, and this bastard is well aware of how eye-fucking someone’s mate would end back home.
On that train of thought, as much as it makes me nauseous, I drop the block on my senses to get a solid feel of the place. Scents and sounds slam into me with all of the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, but I try to sift through them as much as possible. While we can’t sniff out our own kind in a direct approach, if we focus, we can lean on the sense of danger that comes from being surrounded by humans, noting the absence of it to find our own kind.
My mouth parts in surprise as it becomes clear that nearly a quarter of this place is shifters, and it damn well wasn’t the first night Risa worked when we were on high alert the entire night. Which means that even if they aren’t after her blood, theyarestill drawn to her presence like we were afraid of. It’s an amplified version of how we decided to take a different route home on a whim the day we found her, like our subconscious was shoving us in her direction.
A stabbing pain lances through me that I fail to subdue. Even if we hid her away in some underground fortress, people will always be able to find her no matter what we do. We can go toe to toe with the best of them, but good intentions and loving someone with every fiber of your being isn’t enough to change the world. We’re just... not enough.I’mnot enough.
Spiraling, the sharp pain reappears tenfold, and I shove through the crowd, cursing. I make it to the bathroom in the nick of time, locking myself in one of the stalls. My shift is more painful than I can remember ever suffering though, simply because of how hard I’m fighting against what should be as natural as breathing. Coiled on my pile of discarded clothes within the stall, I’m tempted to head over to the wall to bang my head against it, but honestly, I don’t even want to touch the floor in this place, let alone the wall behind the toilets.
Thankfully, Stryker storms into the room a few seconds later, chasing after me to see what was up. The bathroom’s empty, everyone out there enjoying the show, so it doesn’t take him long to crouch down and see me using my shirt as a nest.
“And here I was worried I’d come in here to find you unable to take it anymore and jacking off.” Hooking a finger on the belt loop of my jeans, he slides me and my clothes out from under the locked door. “You have more control than any of us, so what gives?” Obviously unable to answer him, he brings me up to his face, trying to lighten the mood. “You don’t need to worry about hiding your boner in public, nobody else is.”
Hissing at him in response, annoyed, he laughs. “For real, though, is everything alright? I imagine if she were in danger you’d have hauled ass back out there instead of pouting in a pile of laundry, cum stained floor or not.”
The best I can do is hold his gaze, attempting to convey my hopeless frustration before lowering my head, defeated. Using my shirt to cover my body, he walks towards the door.
“We’re all scared, B,” he murmurs. “Seeing the way she lit up out there?” He shakes his head. “I know being the center of attention makes her uncomfortable, but when she forgets about everyone watching her, she lights up like she was made for the spotlight.”
Pausing with his hand on the handle, he sighs, sounding pained. “She’s been stuck in the shadows her entire life and convinced herself that she belongs there. And yet, she has to remain trapped there if we want to keep her alive. No matter what we do anymore, it feels like the wrong move.”
Heading back out into the chaos, Stryker weaves through the crowd, but instead of making a beeline for the exit, he heads back to Mason like he can read my mind. I haven’t had an involuntary shift since I was an awkward teenager, and the only thing that will give me a shot at being able to shift back is using the bond to let her proximity sooth the turmoil I can’t seem to quell even in this form. While I know that secrecy should always be a shifter's top priority, it’s not mine. Risa is, and she always will be.
After a few more minutes, I can’t stand it anymore, slipping my head free of the fabric covering my body. Once I see her up there, instinct takes over and Stryker barely manages to lunge forward in time so that I don’t fall to the ground and wind up trampled. Slithering over the crumpled bills and around the discarded scraps of fabric, my tongue flicks against Risa’s ankle.
Her eyes widen as she glances down, Crystal startling and taking a cautious step back, terror pouring off of her like a perfume. Coiling around my mate’s leg, I work my way up her body, over the thin straps at her hip, her underwear peeking out from the last, translucent scarf tied around her waist. She recovers quickly, acting like this is part of the show and carrying on with the routine.
Crystal isn’t as convinced, her movements stilted at first, heart beating a mile a minute. I slip beneath the crisscrossed string lacing the front of Risa’s bra together, sliding between her breasts to coil around her throat, draping my body over her shoulders. It serves a dual purpose. One, I get to feel her pulse against my body, the blood rushing through her veins, and assure myself that she’s right here. That no one is going to take her away from me. The other? Not a shifter in this place won’t see the movement for the warning that it is.
There aren’t any natural vipers with our coloring or size, so there’s no mistaking that I’m one of them, bold enough to flaunt it in their faces even surrounded by humans. And with as uncommon as we are, only a handful of known nests on the continent, stories spread like wildfire, doing half of the work for us.
Strike first, because we don’t care enough about anyone beyond our own kind and families to bother asking questions.
As the show ends, the crowd is split between lewd catcalls, roars of drunken praise, and applause. The DJ slides a duffle bag across the stage for them so Crystal and Risa can collect their money, since they have nowhere to hold it.
Heading straight for the locker room, Risa lifts me off of her shoulders only to set me down on the bench while she changes. Crystal gives me a wide berth, but my attention is wholly focused on my mate.
“Do I even want to ask what in the actual fuck is going on or where that thing came from?” Crystal asks from the far end of the long bench.
Risa fastens the button on her shorts, acting like it’s no big deal. “Can’t bring guard dogs into the club, but there’s no rule against snakes. And honestly, you can’t tell me that it didn’t look hot as hell.”
She scoffs incredulously. “More like scared the fuck out of a good chunk of the crowd. They emptied their pockets so quick, you’d think they were convinced you were going to sick that thing on them.”
Risa claps a hand over her mouth to hide her amused snort, failing miserably. “Hey, you’re the one that begged me up there, so you don’t get to complain. Besides, haven’t you ever read any good enemies to lovers books? Fear is practically foreplay, so you’re welcome for the unconventional bonus.”
