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He smirks again, and I really just want to slap it right off his face.
“I absolutely dance.” My eyes flash. “I just said I’m not dancing with you.”
“Fine.” He shrugs. “Suit yourself. But if you’re busy trying not to get groped by some stranger, it’ll be hard for you to be monitoring the room. Blending in.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “As if you’re not going to try to grope me?”
The smirk falls from Ryder’s face, though a hint of a smile remains. “Oh, Ven, you have me all wrong. First of all, consent is very important. Second, I have plenty of people who are more than happy to consent to having my hands on their body. And finally, by the time I do put my hands on someone’s body, or in someone’s body, I can assure you they have wanted it for a very long time.”
I can feel blood rushing to my cheeks, and I’m extremely grateful it’s dim in the club so Ryder can’t see. In fact, heat is rushing a good number of places in my body. I make sure my hands are steady before I lift my drink again and take a big sip.
“Glad we clarified that,” I say, feigning nonchalance. I turn my head and scan the room.
“So, we’re looking for strange happenings.”
Ryder laughs. “You are terrible at this. Truly.”
My eyes whip back to his. “What? Why?”
He shakes his head, still grinning. “You are just the most obvious possible.”
“How exactly am I supposed to observe without looking around?” I cross my arms over my chest again.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Ryder says. He stands, downs the rest of his drink, and places both palms on the table, leaning toward me slightly. “I’m going to go get another round of drinks. And then we’re moving to the dance floor. You know, for a so-called yoga instructor, you really need to loosen up.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he’s already walking away. His ass in those jeans is… dear goddess. I chug the rest of my guaro, then scoop some ice out of the glass and run it along the back of my neck. It is positively sweltering in here.
As I wait, I look around the room, trying not to crane my neck and look too obvious, as Ryder had so rudely suggested (even if maybe he was right). Everywhere I look there are couples kissing, dancing, holding hands, sitting on laps. It’s like everyone in this place has a partner.
I frown and bite my lip. I used to love the idea of romance. Of being half of a pair, of having my person, my one. But somewhere along the way my hope had sustained serious damage. After a string of not-so-healthy relationships, I’d ended up with Rodric, a warlock who was serious bad news. Not that I’d realized it at first. It had been subtle at the start. A little controlling, a little possessive. Next thing I knew I’d given up all the things that were important to me: friends, hobbies, time to myself. Rodric grew obsessive and jealous, monitoring my every move and flying off the handle at the drop of a hat. He was high up in the coven I’d been in, and they all turned a blind eye to it.
One day about a year in I suddenly realized I had abandoned myself for this abusive man, and I fled. Rodric came after me, but luckily I’d gotten in touch with Sybil through the Raven Society, and she’d taken me in. I’d moved to Raven’s Roost, turned a fresh page, and thought my troubles were behind me. Until Sybil and several other witches were murdered, and I was abducted by a horned demon.
And now this, with Luciana. It seems I’m living under a curse I can’t break. I hadn’t gotten close to anyone since Rodric. I’m not sure I can trust myself, and I certainly can’t trust anyone else. Life has shown me that much. Romance just isn’t in the cards for me.
“You’re actually scowling, do you realize that?”
I startle and look up to see that Ryder has arrived with our second round. I’d been so lost in thought I hadn’t even noticed him approach. An apology moves toward my lips, but I hold it back. I don’t owe anyone an apology. Instead, I reach out, take my drink, and chug it.
“Alright,” I say, feeling a spark of satisfaction at Ryder’s surprised expression. “You wanna dance? Let’s go.”
I don’t look behind me to see if he’s following. I shoot like an arrow for the middle of the dance floor. Romance may be a lost cause, and I may be cursed, but here, now, I can lose myself for a moment. Forget everything that haunts me. Pura vida, as they say here in Costa Rica. Pure life.
Music snakes around me and I let my body follow it. My hips swivel, my arms stretch up overhead, my shoulders shimmy. I can feel the vibration of the speakers in my chest, and the spike of the guaro in my veins. Sweat dews my skin, and my muscles loosen and move sinuously.
It doesn’t take long to attract attention, not that that’s what I was going for. Several men nearby turn and watch me, then start to sidle closer. But I just want to dance. No distractions. No partners. Just me and the rhythm and the night. I try to ignore them, but they start to close in on me, ruining my vibe.
Until a wave of magic flares over me like the sun. Ryder. He moves in, circling me slowly, not in any kind of territorial way, but making it clear to the competition that we’re together. They give up quickly. After all, there’s no competing with a lust demon on the dance floor.
Ryder moves as if he invented dancing. I feel confident that if he worked in a strip bar, he’d make enough money every night to fill a swimming pool and do laps in it. The way he moves, it’s impossible not to imagine him naked. In bed. Doing all sorts of things to my body. I don’t know if it’s his magic, or if he’s just that good, and at the moment, I don’t care. I just need to forget everything that came before.
We move closer, until we’re inches apart. Ryder watches me and I watch him. So close and yet so far apart, like gazing hungrily down the length of a massive table of the most exquisite desserts just waiting to be devoured. At this proximity, I can see that he has tiny sparks of gold in his eyes. A sheen of sweat covers his skin, and I can smell his earthy cologne. My fingers itch to reach out and touch the hard planes of his chest. The energy builds between us, a storm of stars and lightning, an unbearable tension…
Ryder closes the distance between us and slides an arm around the small of my back, pressing our torsos together. My heart rockets in my chest, and he spins me around.
“Look,” he whispers in my ear, and the sound of his voice makes me shiver. “Over by the closest bar.”
I realize with a stab of disappointment that he only pulled me close to get my attention. To remind me of our mission. But he’s right, I need to get on task. I had my moment, and now I need to get back to finding Luciana. It takes me a moment to see what he saw. Two people, standing to the left of the bar. They’re staring out into the crowd, hands clasped in front of them. A club-goer approaches them, and there’s a fast exchange of cash for a small vial of glowing blue liquid.
But it isn’t the exchange of drugs in a nightclub that’s unusual. It’s the fact that the dealers are demons wearing a glamour to look like humans.
