Heart Seeker (The Fire Heart Chronicles Book 1)

by Juliana Haygert

  “Let’s grab a sofa for us,” Ellie said as she led the way, weaving around the people walking near the bar, going straight to the back.

  The bar was almost as alive as the dance floor. People danced, laughed, flirted ... it was contagious.

  Ellie found a sofa in a U format around a low table, right in front of the dance floor and close to the bar and stairs. The people on the balcony had a privileged view of us, but that didn’t bother me, nor did it seem to bother my company.

  Raul let go of me before the sofa. “Okay, girls, I’m off to get us some drinks.” He left, ambling like a Victoria’s Secret model.

  I laughed.

  “Isn’t he great?” Ellie asked in my ear. The music was too loud. “You aren’t one of those I-don’t-like-gay-people kind of people, are you?”

  “Nope, nothing against them,” I assured her. “And Raul does seem great.”

  “I thought you would like him.”

  Then Tonia showed up among us. “Sorry I’m late.” And just like that, she walked past us, sitting down on the sofa, her arms crossed, and her brows in a deep crease.

  “What’s up with her?”

  Ellie followed my stare. “She’s sulking. Her boyfriend broke up with her last week. I’m trying to keep her busy so she won’t think about him. Much.”

  “Oh, so you bring her to a club full of hot guys? And you think she won’t think about her ex?”

  “Well, yeah, better than staying home and crying. Besides, she could meet a nice guy, and forget about him.” Ellie seemed like an eternal romantic, even with her cool edge and I-don’t-care tone. “I’m gonna invite her to dance with us.”

  I nodded and turned toward the dance floor while Ellie went back to convince Tonia to dance. Something told me it wouldn’t be easy.

  The dance floor was booming, and I was itching to go in there and move my body with the sexy beat of the reggaeton playing. Most people dancing looked Latin, like I did, with dark hair and tanned skin, but there were lots of blonds and gingers and black and Asian people. It was nice to see mixed races enjoying the same things.

  Raul came back with two guys. “Honey,” he said as he passed his arm over my shoulder. “Let me introduce you. This is Rick and Carlos. Good friends of mine.”

  I greeted Rick and Carlos before they joined Raul on the sofa, just as Ellie came back to me with a pout.

  “She won’t come. And now that Raul is back with the drinks, I don’t think she’ll ever come.”

  I patted her shoulder. Then quickly pulled my hand back. I had never done that before. I had never reached out and comforted a friend. To be fair, the people I used to hang out with before moving here couldn’t actually be called friends.

  “Give her time,” I said, hoping she hadn’t noticed the stiff movement of my arm. “Now, let’s dance.” I gestured toward the dance floor.

  Ellie’s eyes shone. “Oh, yeah.”

  We finally entered the dance floor. We remained at the edge, where our group could still see us, but even there, it was impossible not to feel the energy crackling from, about, in and around the crowd gathered dancing. Perfume and aftershave mixed with the smell of sweat, but it didn’t bother me. It actually matched the setting.

  I just couldn’t resist anymore. I yielded and moved along with the beat. My hips undulated, my arms swirled around, my head snapped from side to side, making my curls fly around.

  From the limited space, my legs ended up bumping Ellie’s one too many times and we joked, leaning against each other and brushing our shoulders together. That got the attention of some guys. They whistled and clapped and asked for more. Ellie and I just laughed, having a blast. Then the music changed. Flamenco.

  My eyes went wide and Ellie clapped, knowing I would be in ecstasy. And I was.

  It was a modern, more popular Flamenco song, remixed with some electronic beats, but oh, it was great. My hips and my heels would soon break from moving and stomping so much.

  When the music changed back to a reggaeton, Ellie and I hugged, laughing hard. I was hot and soon I would start sweating.

  “Let’s go grab some water,” she said.

  I nodded, but as we turned to leave the dance floor, I halted.

  Phillip stood a few feet away, his arms crossed, his head tilted sideways, his eyes narrowed, and a cocky half-smile on his lips. My heart skipped a few beats.

  “Do you know him?” Ellie asked when I didn’t follow her.

  “That’s Phillip.”

  “Oh my,” she whispered before disappearing behind him and heading to our sofa.

  I was having such a good time, I had forgotten I had invited him. Now, looking at him, dressed in fitted jeans and a blue shirt, his blond hair gelled back, I wondered how I could have forgotten him.

  For a moment, I wondered what to do. Should I walk toward him, let him come to me, pretend I didn’t see him? I felt like a teenager again, going out on her first date.

  Finally, he strolled toward me and entered the dance floor, halting only a foot from me.

  “Hi,” I said, staring up at him. “How long have you been here?”

  His half-smile never left his lips. “A while.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t see you. I was dancing with Ellie.”

  “Don’t apologize for that. Your dancing was ...” He didn’t continue. He didn’t need to. Whenever I danced, I felt sexy and powerful like I could do anything, be anyone, conquer the whole world, and have any man at my feet. And that was exactly what was happening here. Phillip’s gaze fell to my neck, to the pendant resting against my skin. A slow grin spread across his lips. “You’re wearing it.”

  I touched my fingertips to it. “It’s beautiful.”

  His eyes returned to mine, the intensity in them spreading the warmth of my body to my cheeks. “I’m glad you finally agreed to go out with me.”

  “Me too,” I said. I really was glad. Right now, after dancing and feeling warm and excited, I was holding back, trying not to kiss him. I took his hand, pulled him closer, and placed his hand around my waist. “Let’s dance.”

  “Let’s,” he said, his tone husky, his eyes wide and attentive. “But I’ll probably disappoint you. I’m not a great dancer.”

  “Then I’ll lead.”

  I placed his other hand on my waist and stepped in the circle of his arms. It was good to feel his body against mine, his warmth, his hands on me, to smell his citric scented aftershave. Perhaps I had missed this part of hooking up more than I had realized.

  He was stiff and didn’t look like he knew what he was doing. But I led him. I moved slowly, our legs entwined, wiggling my hips from side to side, hoping his hands were enjoying the trip. He leaned toward me, his mouth on my ear, his breathing a little shallow. I bit my lip and felt myself becoming hotter.

  Shit, I wanted to push myself into him. To feel his arms squeezing me. To feel his weight against my body. How could I feel this way when I barely knew him? Not that I knew the guys I had hooked up with before, but this time, it was happening faster. My feelings and my wants were coming too fast.

  He pulled back and fixed his eyes on mine. His hand traveled up my back—I shivered—to my neck, to my cheek. His fingers brushed a strand of my hair aside, and then he cupped my face.

  Okay, with those damn blue eyes shining with desire, who could resist?

  I kissed him.

  7

  I pressed myself against him, tilted my head up, and found his lips already coming toward me. Phillip responded immediately, his mouth parting to welcome mine, his tongue brushing mine. His grip around me tightened and I wished I could melt into him.

  Breathless, I pulled back.

  “How about we get out of here?” he asked, low and hopeful. His eyes bore into mine, and there was no way I could deny him. Who was I kidding? I didn’t want to deny him.

  I nodded, and before I could say anything, his mouth was on mine again. This time, his lips moved slower but hungrier. Damn, we had to get out of here soon.

>   I pulled back again to restrain myself. “I should tell Ellie that I’m leaving.”

  “All right.”

  He gave me his hand, and I led us off the dance floor to the sofa where Raul, Rick, and Carlos danced and drank, Tonia sulked, and Ellie talked to a guy I didn’t know.

  My attention was momentarily caught by the guy with Ellie. His skin stood out, pale and, in the poor lighting of the place, his hair seemed a light brown, cut short. He was tall and not too broad for a guy. And Ellie was all over him without restraint. Even though they were only talking, the guy seemed to respond well to her, to have interest in each one of her movements.

  Ellie saw us approaching, and her eyes found my hand in Phillip’s. She winked at me, and I beckoned her to stand and to come talk to me.

  Ellie said something to the guy, and when she started toward us, Phillip fished his cell phone from his pocket. It was ringing.

  His brows knotted. “Work. I’ve gotta get this.”

  “Sure.”

  He gave me a little peck on the lips and ran toward the exit.

  I stared after him, wondering why he would get a call from work on a Saturday night.

  “So,” Ellie said behind me. I turned my attention to her. “How is it going with your man?”

  “It’s ... going well, I think.” I felt the heat in my cheeks again and changed the subject. “I see you have company, too. Who is he?”

  She spied over her shoulder to where her guy was and smiled. “I just met him. His name is Rob.” She was beaming. She peeked at him again, and this time he pointed to his empty whiskey glass, indicating he was going to find more. After nodding to him, she looked back to me. “Isn’t he cute?”

  “Yeah,” I said. He was cute but not my type.

  Glancing past me, she stretched to look at the front door. “And you didn’t tell me Phillip was such a hunk.”

  “I told you he was cute.”

  “Cute? He’s way more than cute.”

  “Sorry. Next time I’ll make sure I mention everything, even his shoe size.”

  “That’s good because …” She showed me her pinky. “You know what they say about a man’s shoe size.”

  “Shit, that wasn’t what I meant.” My cheeks were now on fire.

  She laughed. “I know, relax.” Her gaze became sly. “But I saw you two dancing and kissing. I’ll call and ask tomorrow.”

  “Ask what?”

  She showed me her pinky again. “His shoe size.”

  I put my hands over my face and suppressed a chuckle. Damn, this girl would kill me.

  “Yeah, well.” I cleared my throat, trying to be serious. “I was going to tell you I was leaving with him, but he had to answer a call.” I glanced toward the door. No sign of him. “Now I don’t know anymore.”

  There it was. The trust issue again. How could I have let this happen? To give myself so easily to a guy I didn’t know, and now he was gone. Another man would probably get to the bed part first, then vanish, but Phillip vanished after a couple of hot kisses. Why did I kiss him, damn it? Had I no self-respect? No self-control?

  I had fought against going out with him. Then I lost control on the first date, but before he could get the goodies, he vanished. I truly couldn’t trust men. I just couldn’t.

  “What’s wrong?” Ellie asked.

  “Nothing.” I forced a smile, but I was sure she could see through it.

  “No, there’s something wrong. Come on.” She pulled me to sit on the sofa beside Tonia. “Spill it.”

  “Nothing, really,” I said. Ellie scowled at me. Perhaps I should tell her what was bothering me. Wasn’t that part of being friends? “Phillip went to answer a call from work. He works in the pharmaceutical industry. Why the hell would he get a call from work on a Saturday night?”

  “He’s cheating on you,” Tonia said, her eyes staring at the low table before us, like she had done all night.

  “What? Cheating on me? This is our first date.”

  “Tonia, he’s not cheating,” Ellie said. She sounded like a mother teaching her toddler a lesson. “Not every man is unfaithful or a jerk.”

  However, I had to agree with Tonia. It was as if he didn’t like kissing me, had gotten a call from another one of his hookups, and left me for her. Shit, I was so stupid.

  I berated myself for being so naive. For one quick moment, I let my shield down and almost left with a guy who I knew nothing about. A stranger. It was for the best, I told myself. If I had slept with him and started to trust him, the hurt would be greater.

  Interrupting my troubling thoughts, Rob came back with his drink refilled and Ellie introduced him to me. I scooted away, letting the couple get to know each other on the other corner of the sofa.

  Swirls of color assaulted my mind. I closed my eyes and saw them. Colored streams. Green, blue, pink, yellow, and red. Too much red. Whirling in the dark before my eyelids. Tingles ran around my neck and a sensation like a knock on my mind’s walls. I let them crumble and followed the colors. Warnings. Two places.

  On the balcony, right above me. And at the entrance.

  My eyes fluttered open, and I realized my hands were closed into tight fists. I let out a long breath and felt dizzy. Shit. This was not the time. I glanced at Ellie and Tonia at my side. They were engrossed in conversation. Before me, Raul kept drinking and dancing with his friends.

  I tilted my head up. People leaned against the baluster of the balcony above us, looking down at the dance floor. Was I supposed to recognize anyone? I squinted and tried to see their faces.

  Artan and some guys were leaned against the railing of the VIP area right above me.

  My heart stopped and I swallowed hard. Shit.

  So, could the warning at the entrance be worse? It felt odd. At the exact moment I stood up and glanced at the main door, Theron entered.

  My knees became jelly, and I sank down beside Tonia, trying to hide my face behind my curls. What was up with that? I knew who Artan was, but not Theron. This was the second time my senses flared up around him.

  How the hell had I stumbled upon them? We were in New Haven, three towns over from Broken Hill, and they happened to be in the same club as me on the same night? Apparently, my luck was on vacation.

  Curiosity welled up in my chest, but I didn’t dare peek at them. Artan and his gang were still leaning against the balcony, looking at the dance floor like they were searching for someone or something.

  A cold shiver slid up my back.

  Meanwhile, Theron and his friends wove through the crowd on the dance floor to the high tables’ area. They found a vacant table close to the back wall. Two of them sat on the stools. Theron and another, the same guy who was with him at that garage, leaned against the wall. Theron crossed his arms over his chest, propped up a leg, rested his foot on the wall, and glanced directly to where Artan was.

  My heart skipped a beat. I tilted my head up again and found Artan holding Theron’s stare, sparks crackling from their intense expressions. They knew each other. Not only that, but it seemed like they hated each other. And I found I was curious as to why. However, what caught my attention was their stance and attire. It was similar, somehow. Both groups had brown hair—one a lighter shade, the other almost black—and tanned skin. Both groups wore fine shirts with at least two buttons undone and slacks or fitted dark jeans. Some had thin gold chains hanging from their necks, small golden hoops in their ears, thick cloth sashes around their waist. Their pose was powerful, dangerous, and defiant. They were proud and sure of themselves.

  Like Romani. No, not Romani. Tziganes.

  Suddenly, my curiosity was replaced by worry and wariness.

  What the hell were they doing here?

  Raul stepped into my line of sight and caught my attention. “Let’s dance.” He gestured to the dance floor to where Rick and Carlos headed.

  I bit my lip. I wanted to dance. When didn’t I want to dance? But now, I wasn’t sure I should. Phillip had deserted me, and I felt like I ne
eded to hide from Artan and Theron.

  “Give me just a minute,” I lied.

  Raul seemed okay with my answer. He winked at me and joined his friends on the dance floor. Meanwhile, I tried to come up with a plan to get out of the club without anyone seeing me. I didn’t want to go, but if I stayed, Artan was sure to see me, and I didn’t want to have a conversation about tziganes and enclaves tonight.

  My eyes, which seemed to have a life of their own, moved back to Artan then Theron. They weren’t staring at each other anymore, but their poses indicated they were well aware of the other’s presence.

  A woman walked over to Theron’s table. The four guys smiled at her and, one by one, embraced her. She turned around, her eyes going straight to Artan and his gang, flashing the same anger and danger. It was the same young woman from the garage. She was beautiful, with brown hair falling down around her shoulders to her waist, strong eyes, and a lean body. She wore a red blouse with fringes and black skinny pants covered her long legs. Elegance and poise filled her every move. I felt jealous. I was thin and lean, but not as tall and surely not as elegant. I could dance well, but I was sure my movements outside of the stage or dance floor were awkward and clumsy.

  The girl turned to Theron and the other guys, a friendly conversation flowing among them. I lost track of time while I watched the perfect woman. Her laugh was mysterious, her nods perfect, her hair flip intriguing, her smile hypnotizing.

  Finding my eyes, Raul beckoned me to join him, but most of my attention was on the mysterious woman.

  As I watched them, she took two of the guys by the hand and pulled them to the dance floor, close to the sofa. I hid as well as I could behind Tonia so I could keep spying on her. Then the magic lifted. She danced well, but not that well. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I danced better than she did. And that was what mattered to me. She could be as beautiful, elegant, and strong as Wonder Woman, but she wasn’t a better dancer than I was.