His eyes moved higher still, driven on by the pounding of his heart, which had drowned out the music.
A wide, ornately adorned belt held the layers of her skirt around her hips. Her midsection was bare above the belt, a delectable span of unmarred flesh from the flare of her hips to her chest. The material covering her breasts was dark blue with a metallic glint, matching the belt, run through with subtle gold accents. A thick necklace—more like a collar than a piece of jewelry—encircled her slender neck. The lower third of her hair, which hung freely about her shoulders and down her back, was colored a vibrant blue that gradually faded into darker coloring.
Her face held his attention the longest. There was a familiar symmetry to her features, a configuration common to many of the intelligent beings in the Infinite City, but her face was softer, more refined, and more expressive than most creatures he’d encountered.
The slight downturn of her full, pink lips conveyed a sadness so simultaneously powerful and subtle that it pierced his chest. Her averted gaze did not hide the untold emotion sparkling within the frames of her dark lashes.
Tenthil watched as she walked around the middle tier toward the large, central staircase leading down to the lower level. She didn’t look up, though many of the people around her stared while she passed. Oddly, most everyone who noticed her stepped out of her path, a few of them casting worried glances to nearby security guards. Legs moving of their own accord, Tenthil followed her. He felt as though he were floating through the emptiness of the Void, hearing nothing but his own heartbeat, seeing nothing but the terran.
The female continued to the lower floor. Tenthil halted at the top of the stairs as the crowd, even those caught in the deep rhythms of drink, drugs, and song, parted for the terran. No one seemed willing to come within arm’s reach of her. Vague, half-formed speculations tumbled through the back of Tenthil’s mind, but he was too distracted to address them.
Who was this female? Did her kind possess some psychic power he wasn’t aware of that bewitched those around them?
How had merely looking at her sparked these reactions within him?
Keeping her gaze downcast, the terran strode toward the stage. Her footfalls left glowing patches on the floor—part of the club’s special effects, undoubtedly—that lingered for several seconds before fading; only as the lights faded did the crowd fill in her wake. The boldness and surety of her stride were at odds with her averted gaze and the mournful expression she’d worn as she’d passed Tenthil. That only intrigued him further; outwardly, she was the sum of conflicting parts that shouldn’t have fit together.
And he wanted her like he’d wanted nothing else before.
The terran reached the edge of the stage and, without sacrificing any momentum, pulled herself atop it. The nearby guards made no move to stop her—they didn’t so much as cast her a fleeting glance. She walked along the stage’s length, pausing only to slip off her sandals. Her expression had hardened, leaving only a glimmer of underlying sorrow in her eyes; she now wore the look of a professional preparing to act, of a hunter surveying the killing ground.
Tenthil leaned forward as though that tiny movement could somehow bring him close enough to smell her, to touch her.
She moved to the center of the stage and turned her back to the crowd. Tenthil barely noticed the hush that had fallen over the place; though the gentle din of conversation continued all around, it was softened by the anticipatory energy thrumming through the air.
Tenthil’s legs itched with the urge to move closer, but he held himself in place at the top of the steps. He didn’t want to take his eyes off her for even an instant.
The terran turned her head toward the booth from which a four-eyed, violet-skinned valzin controlled the music and nodded once.
The lights on the stage and dance floor went out abruptly. The ambient glow from the bar and the floors above cast faint highlights on the crowd, but impenetrable darkness dominated the stage. It had become the Void. This was not the first time the Void had devoured Tenthil’s desires and snuffed out what small hints of light he’d discovered in the vast, dark universe. Unease reintroduced itself, this time in his chest—it was a boulder-sized lump lodged between his ribs.
Though he couldn’t explain why, losing sight of her set him on edge. He felt it in his tense muscles, in his protruding claws, in his grinding teeth and aching fangs.
For several moments, everything was quiet and still. The crowd’s eagerness suggested this wasn’t merely a matter of an exotic species on stage—they had some idea of what was coming. She must have performed here before.
Tenthil envied everyone who’d seen her before tonight.
The terran reappeared on the stage, a lone figure cast in violet-blue light that fell only upon her. Her back remained toward the crowd. It was only as she lifted her arms to either side that Tenthil noticed the ribbons clasped at her wrists, hips, and near her temples. The first swelling chords of music accompanied her movement.
Her hands rose over her head, slowing their upward momentum. When she swung them down again, the song’s first beat played. At the same instant, the ribbons lit up with a neon-green glow. Another drumbeat had her spinning toward the audience. The ribbons left green trails as they flared out with her rotation. Her lips glowed vibrant pink, complimenting the glowing pink and purple patterns adorning her face. The patterns reminded Tenthil of the natural markings common to volturians and sedhi, but these were far more detailed.
As the music picked up speed, so did she, her movements flowing in such perfect harmony with the sound that it seemed she was creating it with her body. The stage remained dark, though her footprints glowed in vivid colors on the floor for several seconds after she’d lifted her foot away, creating an ever-changing, surprisingly intricate path around her.
Eyes transfixed upon the terran, Tenthil finally descended. There was a pattern to her dance, barely discernable through the fluid, natural ease of her movements. Just like he’d learned to throw different punches and kicks and to wield various weapons, she must have learned to weave the steps of her dances together, combining basic parts into tantalizing wholes.
He wove through the crowd, studying her every move, urged forward by a consuming desire he did not understand and could not deny. He needed to stand beside her, to touch her. He needed her scent to wash over him. Nothing else in this place, in this world, in the entire universe mattered more. All that existed was this female, dancing amidst the darkness. Dancing for him.
A two-meter-wide walkway jutted from the center of the stage with a guard posted to either side of it. Tenthil worked his way to the left, giving the guards a wide berth. The beat of the music pulsed through him as he tracked her steps.
Tenthil didn’t pause to consider his next action; his free will had succumbed to whatever spell she’d placed upon him. He ticked off the beat in his head as she moved closer him, his muscles instinctively tensing in preparation. He forced himself to relax.
The terran came within a few meters of the stage’s edge and shifted her momentum.
He leapt onto the stage. A collective gasp rose from the crowd, but Tenthil was only distantly aware of the sound—it could have been the sigh of a ventilation system or an effect in the music for all he cared.
Tenthil mimicked her steps, matching her pace as she danced toward the opposite side of the stage.
The female turned and faced him, her eyes widening as she met his gaze. Her skin paled. “What are—”
Without missing a step, he took her hands in his. Heat flared where their flesh touched. Electric currents crackled through him, flowing from his fingertips to light every nerve in his body ablaze.
He led her across the stage, and she followed, casting a worried glance toward the crowd—likely searching for Cullion. Tenthil’s gentle squeeze of her hand pulled her gaze back to him. Their legs moved in unison, like complementary pieces of a clockwork machine. Even in the dark, her eyes shone a brilliant green, more beautif
ul than the lush forest of his earliest memories. He lost himself in their impossible depths.
The female smiled.
The surprise and sadness previously lurking in her eyes were swept away by a spark of excitement, a joyful gleam, an inner light in defiance of the surrounding darkness. Suddenly, Tenthil was no longer leading.
She released one of his hands and twirled around him, brushing her skirts—and her body—against him. Her scent filled his senses in a rush—crisp and clean, like freshly fallen rain on the plains of his youth but bearing an underlying sweetness that poured fire into Tenthil’s blood. An ache pulsed low in his belly, and his cock strained against his pants. That oddly pleasant taste returned to his mouth as venom seeped from his fangs.
Her movements altered; whether it was due to her having a partner or because the music had changed, Tenthil neither knew nor cared. Her body was his guide. She danced around him, and he reacted, reading the hints in her body language to offer an anchoring arm when she dipped, to stabilize and speed her spins, to drop his hands to her hips and lift her off her feet. She raised her legs and swept them to his sides, skimming her bare inner thighs over his clothing. He longed to remove his attire, to feel her flesh against his, but that would mean too much time apart from her.
Despite her spins and twirls, despite her ceaseless motion, the female’s eyes snapped back to Tenthil’s time and again, darkening as the dance continued. Soon, the new steps were almost instinctual to him. Her unspoken desire became his command; he was a slave to her dance, to her body, and he yearned for more, more, more.
He dipped her backward and ran his free palm down her abdomen toward her belt, eyes never leaving her face. She laughed, her smile widening. When she came back up, she cupped his jaw between her hands and leaned close, their noses only centimeters apart. Her breath was his, and his was hers. He tightened his hold on the terran and drew her closer.
Tenthil held her gaze for another moment before lowering his lips and pressing them over hers.
She tensed in his hold for an instant, eyes rounding, before her mouth softened and yielded to his kiss. Her hands settled on his shoulders as she closed her eyes, and Tenthil slipped his fingers into her silky hair. His heart pounded against his ribs as fresh venom flowed over his tongue—spicy, woody, saccharine, but bland compared to the tiny sample of her taste he received while their lips were together.
She tasted rich, alluring, and pure, impossibly sweet. She was…
Mine.
* * *
To read more, you can find Silent Lucidity (The Infinite City #1) on Amazon!
Escaping Wonderland Page 28
