Dapper wasn’t messing around. Something about New Orleans really frightened him. I wet my dry lips. “I’ll be careful, Dapper.”
He nodded, back to his typical gruff self again, and with a hand on my shoulder, turned me toward the table. “Well, I’m glad you’re here tonight of all nights,” he said, but despite the new playfulness in his tone, I caught the tinge of sadness in his eyes.
He knows I’m not staying.
I smiled nonetheless, keeping up appearances. “Why?”
“Because tonight,” he said, looking up at the stage where a brightly clothed band was setting up, “is salsa night.”
I couldn’t help myself; I laughed out loud. I’d always loved to dance, but Dapper couldn’t know that—none of them could. Except for Gray, who sat on the far side of the large table, looking rather green as he watched the band.
Morgan looked up at that moment and immediately yelped, leaping out of her seat and then jumping up and down. I shook my head, smiling. It was comforting to know that some things had remained the same. Even if, looking around the table, it also felt abundantly clear that I no longer fit in.
“Oh my God, oh my God. I can’t believe you’re here! I’ve been trying to get to you all day!”
“Well, I’m here now,” I said, accepting her hug.
Does everyone always hug this much?
“Let her go, Morgan!” Zoe yelled when it became apparent Morgan wanted to continue jumping up and down—with me.
Morgan quickly dropped me. “Sorry!”
“That’s fine,” I said, taking a seat and saying hello to everyone, pausing momentarily when I noticed Rainer and Wilhelm sitting on the other side of the table.
Salvatore wrapped Steph in his arms and sat her beside him. Seeing them so in sync with one another, a sharp bolt of longing shot through me. Zoe was there with two empty glasses in front of her already. Gray had wedged himself close to her, and when I threw him a wry look, he simply waggled his eyebrows. Onyx was on Zoe’s other side with a bottle of bourbon, a shot glass, and a wicked grin. I didn’t need to ask what it was for. I didn’t need to see him. I could have closed my eyes and still walked a straight line to where I could sense Lincoln in the far corner of the club.
I rolled my eyes at Onyx and gestured to the drinks as I asked Zoe, “Doesn’t Dapper have a problem with this?”
She shrugged. “No police come knocking on his door here; no one knows it exists. Dapper figures if we’re old enough to battle it out to the death, then we’re old enough to have a few cosmos too. But he usually cuts us off after a few.”
“Shouldn’t you be working?” I asked Onyx.
He threw back a shot. “I am. Customer relations. Are you enjoying yourself?”
A waitress came over and placed a number of drinks on the table, one in front of me. I raised an eyebrow.
“See?” Onyx said. “Don’t say I’m not looking after you.”
I shook my head and took a sip. Whatever it was, it tasted citrusy and delicious. “Thanks.”
“It’s good to see you, Violet,” Wilhelm said from across the table.
“You too,” I replied, doing my best to return his easy smile. “I’m sorry I haven’t managed to stay in touch,” I said to Rainer.
Her eyes softened. “We know you’ve been doing what you had to. It’s just…It’s good to see you. We all felt your loss when you left New York, but when I heard you’d left Lincoln…Well, I’ll admit I wondered if we’d ever see you again.”
“You were always going to see me again, Rainer. You of all people.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Really? Now I’m intrigued.”
I glanced around the table, spotting something in the far corner of the room that made me flinch. I looked back at Rainer, forcing my expression to remain neutral. “I have some unfinished business that I want to talk to you about. Maybe in the morning?”
She nodded, understanding that this was not the time or place, but I could tell I had her full attention. “I’ll be at the Academy. Come and see me in my office.”
“How about we meet in the infirmary instead?” I suggested.
Rainer watched me for a beat before quickly nodding. “That would be fine too.”
No longer able to stop myself, my gaze drifted to the back corner. Lincoln sat in a booth with Mia. They had their heads close, talking over drinks. Jealousy I wasn’t entitled to feel struck my heart while something altogether possessive and fierce marched forth from my soul.
“What’s the deal with those two, anyway?” I blurted to Steph before I could reel myself in.
Steph shifted in her seat and pretended to realign her skirt, all the while looking extremely uncomfortable.
“Steph,” I pushed.
She glanced up and sighed. “I don’t know. No one really does. They’ve been friends for a while, but the past few weeks, they’ve been spending more time together. There’s talk that…that Josephine’s pushing them to apply to become partners. So far they’ve refused.”
I swallowed. “Why?”
It was a loaded question and Steph knew it. Lincoln was free to take a new partner; I’d made that much clear to him when I’d left the city. If he and Mia were a good match and worked well together, then the only reason he wouldn’t want to be made her official partner was if they were…Couples can’t be partners.
Unless of course they’re soul mates and willing to destroy one another.
“Honestly?” Steph asked, monitoring my reaction.
I ignored the little voice inside that told me to give this conversation a wide berth and nodded.
Yes, I’m totally unstable.
“I think it’s because Lincoln would never consider another partner but you. But that’s just my opinion.”
I gripped my glass and took a few deep swallows. I caught Morgan watching, and when she met my eye, she quickly looked away.
“But not everyone’s,” I said, reading between the lines.
I sat up straighter and grabbed the fresh drink that had just been placed in front of me, and lifted it to Onyx in thanks. “Well,” I said in an attempt to brush off Steph’s words, “he should do whatever he wants. For whatever reason he has. He deserves happiness.”
And he does.
He deserves everything.
I threw back my drink and did all I could to look like I didn’t care that Lincoln hadn’t even glanced in my direction.
You can’t have it both ways, Vi. Just stop thinking so damn much.
I started on a new drink. Lincoln’s indifference was a gift, really. It only made things easier, and I should have been grateful. This way, we’d be able to work together. We’d find Spence. Someone passed me a shot. We could stop whatever the briefcase man was doing. I threw back the shot and held my glass out for another. It would all be fine.
Dapper’s hand landed heavily on my shoulder. “I just cut you off,” he said as I pouted.
“Why? You know the alcohol effect will only last for about fifteen minutes.” The downside of increased healing abilities. “And I’ll have you know I work in a pub now. I’m very familiar with responsible service and consumption of alcohol.”
Did I just slur?
He shrugged. “Come and talk to me in fifteen minutes, then. Or when you need a job.”
Feeling miserable, I diverted my attention to the band, listening to the music and watching the people moving on the dance floor. Dancing had always been the one thing that could take my mind off everything. It was bittersweet, of course, but in some ways, it felt like a deserved punishment.
Right then, I needed something and I needed it desperately—something other than the constant cold and the ever-present pain.
“Gray!” I hollered across the table.
He looked up, already dreading this moment. Oh, he knew.
He shook
his head slowly. “No. No way. You promised never in front of people we know.”
I leaned forward. “Nooo. I promised never in front of the guys. And the guys aren’t here.”
“No!” he yelled over the music, setting his jaw.
I nodded calmly. “You still owe me and you know it.”
The whole table was watching our tennis-match conversation now.
“No. Way.”
I stood up, my hands braced on the table as I leaned all the way across. “Make it good and you won’t have to go to classes with me anymore.”
Gray took a sharp breath. I knew he wanted out of those classes more than anything. Finally, he stood up, giving me a hard look before turning it on the rest of the table. “If any of you ever speak a word of what you are about to see, I won’t be held accountable for my actions.” He looked back at me, scowling. “And if you go back on your word, I’ll never bring you in on another paying gig as long as I live. Hear?”
I smiled, holding out my hand.
“What the hell was all that about?” Steph asked me.
I turned a sweet smile on Steph. “Gray was just asking me to dance.”
He yanked me out onto the dance floor before she could respond.
“Back corner,” I said, wanting to be out of sight.
Gray rolled his eyes, yanking me along and altogether livid. “Oh, you think?”
“Love is not a fire to be shut up in a soul. Everything betrays us: voice, silence, eyes; half-covered fires burn all the brighter.”
Jean Racine
The moment Gray pulled me into a dance position, everything else slipped away, and I all but sighed with relief.
“We’re square after this?” Gray double-checked.
“Square.”
If he could go back in time, he probably never would have agreed to go to classes with me, but Gray wasn’t the type to go back on his word. So, twice a week for the past year, Gray and I had gone dancing.
He was atrocious at first, but once he got over himself and realized no one was going to point and laugh, he started to improve; now he was quite good. And when it came to the lifts, he was so strong, he pulled them off with ease.
Our kind of dancing was by the book. I loved to get a little carried away when I was in my own space, but whenever I was close to another body, I was hyperaware, and Gray respected my…limitations.
He put me through a good workout, spinning me at every opportunity. He tossed me around a few times, and the people in our immediate vicinity moved back to give us more room.
By the end of the second song, I was covered in a thin film of sweat, but since I knew that this was the last time I was going to force Gray to dance with me, there was no way I would let him off the hook. I looked up to tell him just one more song only to feel my heart stall. My eyes fixed not on Gray’s but on the blazing green ones just over his shoulder—firing into mine to a depth only they could achieve.
Seeing my face, Gray intuitively and cautiously stepped back, putting some distance between us. Lincoln stood rigid, jaw clenched, hands fisted by his sides.
Gray’s eyes darted from Lincoln to me, and I could see his mouth running over a string of mumbled curses. Eventually, when it became clear no one else was about to speak, Gray cleared his throat.
“How ’bout I go buy your friend over there a drink?” he asked.
Lincoln nodded curtly. “How ’bout,” he said, his wild eyes not leaving mine.
Gray was out of there so fast, he practically ran. I took a tentative step back, feeling the tension rolling off Lincoln. I glanced at my table of friends, whose eyes were all fixed in our direction, mouths hanging open. Onyx had swiveled his chair around to get a full view.
Great. Nothing like a captive audience.
And then, suddenly, I blushed. I hadn’t meant to get carried away on the dance floor. I certainly hadn’t meant for it to make Lincoln angry. He shouldn’t have even been able to see us from the far side of the room.
As if reading my mind, he took a step toward me. “I went over to your table to tell you that you were right. It was a good call hitting them tonight and I was being stubborn.”
“Oh,” I said nervously with a shrug. I took another sideways step, edging off the dance floor and toward our table, hoping that was all he had come over to say. But as soon as I moved, Lincoln closed the distance, his hand bracing tightly on my hip. Feeling the warmth of his touch, I stiffened in a hopeless attempt to guard myself. And then his voice dropped as he spoke close to my ear.
“You learned to salsa.”
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “I suppose.”
“Why?” he asked evenly, not moving away, his hand pushing into my hip.
I leaned back, trying to look away. “A hobby, I guess.”
His lips pressed together but then he tugged me closer, speaking in my ear again. “So you can salsa. But is that all you can do?”
He’s too close. Too close! I can smell him. I can feel his warmth, his breath on my neck.
“I…I…”
Not waiting for me to fumble through the answer, he stepped away, leaving me instantly bereft, and held out his hand.
“What?” I blurted.
He half smiled. “You still owe me a dance,” he said, his voice flat.
I balked. “What? That was…” I couldn’t even find the words. That dance was something we’d promised each other before everything had happened. It was…
He shrugged, hand still out. “Yes, well, there haven’t been many opportunities since then.” He raised his eyebrows. “Afraid?” It was a challenge.
Damn it.
I wanted to run and hide. Or just crumple to the floor and roll up into a ball. But another part of me was going to be damned if I looked like the pathetic girl who couldn’t even manage to be in the same room as him. I’d already let him humiliate me once today.
My shields were up, and if we were going to work together to find Spence, it was about time he understood I was stronger than he realized. A little dancing would hardly undo me.
“Fine,” I gritted, lifting my hand toward his. “But I believe it was you who owed me the dance.”
He snatched my hand and led me to the center of the dance floor, spinning me out and then snapping me back into his chest. “Then I’ll be sure to do my best to not disappoint,” he growled.
Jesus. Save me, someone. Now. Please.
And so Lincoln and I danced for what was, strangely enough, the first time since I’d attempted to throw myself on him the night of my seventeenth birthday.
And of all the things I’d dreamed about, it would have to have been on the top of my list. Almost. But in my fantasies, well, hell—even the most vivid imagination couldn’t have conjured this.
Lincoln had once alluded to the fact that he knew his way around a dance floor, but this was…
He leaned in when I shot him a curious look. “My mother loved dancing. All disciplines. For years, I was her reluctant dance partner.”
Without another word, he led me around the dance floor with purpose—pulling me, pushing me, controlling me, always one step ahead, ready to catch me. He was fast and smooth, and it wasn’t just salsa. He mixed Latin with swing and threw in a good dose of plain old dirty dancing. If I hadn’t been so damn well caught up in the whole thing, I would have paused to blush.
No. Definitely not like dancing with Gray.
It was close contact.
His hand on my lower back, fingers spread, pressing just so.
Hips jammed tightly together.
Knees bent.
Strong arms pulling me so tightly, they arched my back.
Breathless.
Our bodies molded together like they were designed for that very purpose.
My soul ached but my heart powered to life, and for
a moment, just an agonizing split second, the coldness receded and I was…me.
Somehow, my body melded even closer with his, and Lincoln tucked the hair away from my eyes, tilting my head up to his. “There you are,” he murmured.
Where only you could find me.
When the song finished, Lincoln cast his eyes to one side, and it was clear he couldn’t look at me. Slowly, his hand slid from my waist and, chest heaving like mine, he started to walk toward his table. I wasn’t sure if he realized his other hand still firmly gripped mine, but he didn’t appear to be letting it go, and for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to pull away, so he dragged me along with him.
Gray was grinning from ear to ear when we approached Lincoln’s corner booth, where he’d made himself at home beside Mia.
“Well, well,” he said. “If it isn’t my ex–dancing partner. Can’t say I’m sorry the partnership is over. Especially since now I can see all your naughty intentions.”
Mia chuckled, and I took the opportunity to glare at her for a completely different reason.
Gray noticed Mia’s giggle too. “You, on the other hand,” he said, leaning toward her. “I’d be more than happy to try some of those moves with you.” He smirked.
Mia glanced briefly at Lincoln, who had now let go of my hand and seemed unhappy in general. She rolled her eyes at him and then stood up, taking Gray’s hand. “A dance right now sounds like a great idea,” she said.
Lincoln and I watched as the two of them disappeared onto the dance floor. I felt embarrassed that Gray was hitting on Lincoln’s—
“I’m sorry,” we said simultaneously.
I did a double take, confused by his apology. I went on. “Gray’s a flirt. Actually, he’s a sleaze. You might want to get Mia away from him at some stage tonight; otherwise, he might think she’s fair game.”
“Okay,” he said, his brow furrowed.
I couldn’t bring myself to keep talking about Mia with Lincoln in this way, so I started to walk away.
“Violet,” he called out suddenly, but his voice was strained.
I turned back to him.
He swallowed, looking briefly out to the dance floor. “I know we just danced, but aren’t you upset that your…that your boyfriend is dancing with another girl?”
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