Dancing With the Devil

by Cate Masters

  Veronica smiled, her first true smile. “This slave dance is so typical of the others. All depict the willingness of the slave girl to make her master happy.”

  “Really.” Lily sounded unconvinced.

  Veronica rose beside her. “Oh, yes. Perhaps it’s the basic concept you must practice.”

  “Pardon?”

  At Lily’s sharp tone, Zev sprang up. “Veronica. I must speak to you. Alone.”

  The way Veronica sashayed toward him, she knew exactly what he had to say. Praise for her eloquent telling of the slave’s story dance. A little higher, right there, ooh yeah.

  He’d come to rely on their daily appointments, and had snapped at Elistair for announcing that Veronica had an unexpected duty. She’d make it up to him. He’d make certain of it. No one else would usurp his authority.

  ***

  A performance like Veronica’s might go over well above ground. In a low-class Vegas peep show.

  Need practice with the basic concept, do I? Veronica apparently had it down pat. Zev barely had to say heel and she lapped at his.

  Lily tapped her zills together. The tiny clang resounded surprisingly clear and long. More practice was definitely in order, with or without a teacher.

  She lacked one vital component. “Music.”

  As soon as she said it, music floated out, from where she couldn’t tell. Suitable for ballet, and perhaps belly dancing, the stringed instruments invoked a dreamy mood with its slow, forceful beat.

  Not the type of music she craved. Who knew whether anyone listened? Or had they rigged the studio to respond to simple verbal commands? Only one way to find out. “No, Foo Fighters.”

  Momentary silence. Then the song blared from invisible speakers.

  Yes! Lily closed her eyes. Immediately attuned to the music, she let her body follow its rhythm. Not in her usual bends and arches; in soul-freeing leaps, exhilarating in their flow and ebb, nuance and bursts of motion.

  At first, she found the zills difficult to use but once she relaxed, the rhythm flowed as it did with her pole dancing – from the inside, the music all-encompassing, the notes and chords a map of sound for her to follow.

  This type of dancing took her higher than she’d ever known. She could never go back to pole dancing after this. She wanted to practice these moves to perfection, until they become second nature to her body. Then she’d move to the related dances – belly dancing, flamenco, all the gorgeous dances that allowed the dancer’s passion to flare bright.

  Dance was more than moving her hips; she’d always known, and now realized how deep-seated an expression of self it really was, with an illustrious history. Here, dancers were revered, despite the story behind the dance itself. Or maybe for perpetuating the slave dance legends. Still, other dancers should know the joy she’d found.

  The song came to an end, and Lily reluctantly drew herself to a halt. Every nerve and muscle hummed with energy.

  “Lovely.” Persephone strolled toward her, beaming.

  “Oh, Persephone.” How long had she been there?

  “Though I’m not so sure about your choice of music.”

  “They’re one of my favorite bands.”

  “You interpreted their music admirably. Was it Veronica’s idea? Where is she?”

  “She left with the archduke.”

  “With Zeveriah? Did she not instruct you?”

  “They apparently had some business of their own.”

  “I apologize. She should not have abandoned you.”

  “No, I don’t mind. I was able to explore different methods on my own. And now I know it’s what I want to do.”

  “What?”

  “Teach others. I want to show them how to unlock their spirits through dance. I’ve never felt so alive.”

  “I’m afraid there aren’t many in the Underworld who need instruction.”

  “No, not here. At home.”

  “Oh.” Persephone’s smile faded. “You must be getting hungry.”

  “A little.” Starving, really. Lily couldn’t wait to return home for another reason. Food. Untainted, except for the usual preservatives. One of the little things she missed.

  “Why don’t you go freshen up? Supper will be ready soon.”

  “Not a formal affair, is it?”

  “No, quite intimate. Your grandfather, myself, and hopefully the archduke can free himself to attend.”

  Perhaps Lily had their roles of slave and master confused? Did Veronica have Zev in her clutches? Hope springs eternal… “Well, if he has business, I understand.”

  “Your grandfather won’t, however. He expects the archduke to honor your visit with his attendance, at a minimum.”

  “I hope he won’t get upset on my account. I don’t mind in the least if Zeveriah is, uh, otherwise engaged.” He’d never be engaged to Lily.

  Something like pity crossed Persephone’s face. Lily expected her to pat her hand, say something like, you poor girl. Disillusioned, Lily was not. More like determined.

  “Come,” Persephone said. “Let’s get you some new clothes.”

  “No, I couldn’t. You’ve been far too generous already.”

  “I’m sure the archduke wouldn’t mind if you appeared in your dancing silks.”

  Good point. “I’ll wear the clothes I arrived in.”

  “Darling, we have fabulous designers here. All at my disposal. It’s no trouble. You’re a perfect size four, are you not?”

  “I don’t know about perfect, but yes, mostly a four.”

  “Indulge yourself, Lily. Or if not yourself, then indulge me.”

  Her grandmother always looked impeccable, whether dressed casually or in formal wear. What could it hurt? Bodie had said nothing against accepting clothing. “All right.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Outcast. For his insubordination, he’d surely be stripped of his title, his holdings. After braking to a halt, he sat astride his Harley. Bodie raked his hand through his hair and surveyed the street. If it could be called that. Travelers kicked up dust along the dirt road, whether walking or in wagons, vendors pushing their carts of wares. Stuff of ancient times, locked in this timeless space between worlds.

  Better get used to it. He could never go back. Never enter his palace, stand on his balcony and look out onto the Sixth Heaven with fierce, loving pride. Never again see his mates, the rest of the Throne Angels.

  Not if it meant turning his back on Lily. He loved her every bit as fiercely.

  What if Hades has turned her? What if Lily falls under Zeveriah’s spell? He dug his fingers into his leg. For the first time in his existence, he knew the meaning of terror. Of helplessness. Already, powers drained from his body, the very essence of being an angel. An immortal, he’d remain, he knew; a demigod, but never again an angel, revered and beloved by all.

  Good God, what have I done? Despair threatened to swallow him. He pushed up to a stand. God helped those who helped themselves. Bodie would do exactly that, and seek a little help as well. From Lily’s parents.

  First, to find someone who knew how to track them down. He strode off, and then paused to let a demon couple pass. The nearest one, the male, brushed his arm and snarled.

  Bodie braced himself, and gripped the hilt of the knife on his belt. “I’ve no quarrel with you.”

  The demon’s twisted lips revealed rotting teeth. “Then don’t sully my sleeve again.”

  “I won’t. Unless it’s with your blood.” Anger rose up like bile, and he swallowed its bitterness with a wince.

  Hissing, the demon slashed at his face, and its sharp nails tore into his flesh.

  Fury overtook him, and he blindly plunged the knife into the demon’s leg. With a yelp like a dog’s, it leapt back.

  The female demon glared. “You beast.”

  “What?” Stunned by the accusation, Bodie looked at the knife in his hand; black blood tainted its blade.

  “Get away,” she said, “before I tear out your throat.” She cradled her mate. “
Poor baby. Let’s get you to the doctor.” They hobbled away.

  Others who passed with watchful eyes – angel, demon and creature alike – gave Bodie a wide berth.

  He returned his knife to its sheath with shaking hands. “I’m not a beast.” Yet something beastlike had risen up to take control of his senses. At the last instant, he’d regained enough of himself to lower his striking hand from its first target – the demon’s heart. Not a fatal blow. Its leg would heal.

  Bodie’s spirit might not. How could he attack so viciously, so suddenly, for such little cause? His warrior instincts had served him well throughout his reign as Ruling Prince of the Sixth Heaven. He didn’t want an innocent’s blood on his hands, not even a demon’s.

  He fastened the snap with a decided click, and strode down the street, scanning the shops. Signs flashed promises of renewed vigor, cures for ailing souls, a barber, decorative wings for cross-dressing demons or fallen angels… never would Bodie stoop so low. He kept walking, past a candy maker, a glass blower… ah, there. A shop that a family of outcast angels might frequent out of necessity. And one with items he might need as well.

  He pushed open the door, the attached bell jingling over his head. The shopkeeper glanced up, recognition flashed across his face as he bowed to his work again.

  Bodie browsed, and admired the fine craftsmanship. Ninja stars with razor edges. Scimitars of finest steel and gem-encrusted hilts. Swords fit for royalty. He lifted one, at once enamored of its perfect balance in his grip.

  “Anything in particular you’re looking for?” the shopkeeper asked.

  Bodie returned the sword to its hooks on the wall. “I’m in need of some weapons, yes. Small ones. The ninja stars, a knife or two. And information.”

  “The weapons, I’m happy to supply. The information…” He shrugged.

  “I seek a family of angels and demons. They may be in hiding. I suspect one or more have bought weapons here as well.”

  “A family of angels and demons, eh? Not likely, even in The Neutral Zone. They generally don’t mix.”

  “Not unless the demon’s a descendant of Persephone. The name Illiana ring a bell?” From the shopkeeper’s flinch, he’d guess yes. “Or Zacharel? I know not the names of their offspring.”

  “Illiana, you say?” The man shook his head.

  “I must find them. Their daughter’s in danger.”

  “You said you didn’t know their offspring.”

  “I know only Lily. She’s in danger.”

  “Sorry to hear it, but—”

  “If I don’t stop Hades, he’ll force her to marry an archduke.”

  “Maybe the girl will fall in love with him, as Persephone did with Hades.”

  “No.” Bodie slammed his fist atop the counter, then drew back. What was happening to him? Did losing his status mean losing his soul as well? “She loves me. And I love her.”

  Warily, the man said, “A difficult situation, to be sure.”

  More humbly, Bodie said, “I must help her. Please tell me if you know where her family lives.”

  The shopkeeper tilted his head. “Come in the back room. I think I may have what you’re looking for.”

  Once safely behind closed doors, with no window to give them away, the shopkeeper still kept his voice hushed. “Zacharel and Illiana make their home near the border. They’re unable to socialize with either demon or angel, so keep to themselves, only occasionally coming into the trading district. They may not welcome your arrival.”

  “They will after hearing I know Lily.” Bodie clasped the old man’s hand. “I’m in your debt.”

  “Good. Repay me by buying some of my goods.” He opened the door and gestured him through.

  Bodie obliged. “With pleasure. You stock the finest I’ve seen.” He selected three sets of ninja stars, and an extra knife. Now came the difficult part. “Might I trade my own knife?”

  The shopkeeper inspected it. “It’s seen a good many centuries of use, but yes. Of course, it only covers a fraction of the cost for the new weapons.”

  “Will you extend credit?”

  The shopkeeper chuckled. “Not to anyone. Yes, I know you’re an angel – or were. You’re apparently venturing toward danger. If you’re killed, how will I be paid then?”

  If only he’d thought to bring his sword. “I have nothing worth trading except…” It killed him to say it. “My Harley.”

  “A motorcycle?” The shopkeeper scratched his chin. “An unusual item to barter. Is it in good condition?”

  “Yes, it’s in excellent condition. I maintain it myself.”

  “I’d have to have a look at it.”

  “I’ll bring it by. After I find Zacharel and Illiana.”

  The shopkeeper slid the weapons Bodie had selected beneath the counter. “I’ll hold these for you until you return.”

  Bodie nodded. Better get used to being treated like everyone else.

  ***

  Hades strode into the dining room reserved for smaller gatherings and headed straight for the credenza holding the liquor. He poured an Absolut and slammed it back. Things were not going the way he’d planned. Not at all.

  Where in blazes was Zeveriah? The archduke had cleverly avoided his chambers this afternoon, and had disappeared. So had his concubine.

  His fingers involuntarily tightened around the goblet. Disregard my direct orders, will you? Hades couldn’t let it pass. Not without a counter-move of his own. And he knew how to cut the archduke, how to wound his pride and person.

  With the gentle swish of fabric, Persephone entered, carrying a vase of magnolias. “Ah, there you are, my love. I was going to offer you a drink, but I see you’ve helped yourself.” She placed the arrangement in the center of the long table and adjusted it to her liking.

  The satin, deep blue as the night sky, highlighted her curves as she leaned over. The swell of her rear beneath its sheen drew him to her, and he ran his hand across it and down.

  “You can offer me other refreshments.”

  With a tiny squeal, she fitted herself against him. “Not now, dearest. Lily will be here any moment.”

  Her breathy tone served to excite him more. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. He wanted to bury himself in her cleavage, exposed by the deep V-neck of her dress, and made more mouth-watering when she pressed against him, causing them to bulge. Only Persephone could wear such a plain sheath and exude a goddess.

  “I only need a minute.” His lips moved against hers as he spoke, then he pressed deeper.

  She tilted her head, hand in his hair, every stroke intensifying his desire.

  A small noise issued from the entrance, someone clearing her throat.

  He held Persephone in place while he finished his kiss, and she complied. Dutiful wife. Lily would do well to learn from her. Rather than some concubine, and a nymph at that.

  Smiling, he released her, and she withdrew her hand slowly across his face.

  “Later, my love,” she whispered.

  He’d have to cut dinner short. “Ah, Lily. So glad you could join us.” He swept back to the credenza. “Care for a drink?” He poured himself another Absolut.

  “Is that plain vodka?”

  The unspoken question came through clearly. “No flavoring.” Unfortunately. Too obvious anyway. He had other methods. Much as he hated to resort to entrapment with his granddaughter, a backup never hurt.

  “I’d love one, thanks.” Somewhat tentatively, she approached.

  Still unsure of him, he supposed. “Did you enjoy your lesson today?”

  “Yes, very much. I’d love to learn more about the slave dances.”

  Ah, progress. Finally. “Wonderful. There’s much history in the dances.” Lessons she could benefit from.

  “The zills intrigue me almost as much. I can’t wait to go home and teach others.”

  He paused the goblet in front of his mouth. “Go home?”

  “Yes. I knew I wanted to do something more with my life, and now I know.
I want to open a dance studio. If I hadn’t come here, I’d never have had a revelation like that. So thank you.” She raised her glass in toast.

  More vigorously than she had, he cleared his throat. “Cheers.” All the vodka in the Underworld wasn’t enough to cheer him. “We had hoped, however, that you’d stay.”

  Her eyes widened, a doe skittish at the appearance of a hunter. “I… appreciate the invitation. And I’d love to come back for another visit.”

  Hades glanced at his wife. She gave a slight shake of her head. Not now, she mouthed.

  Right. Win Lily over with charm. Or Absolut, whichever means necessary. “Is Zeveriah expected?” Oh, the archduke was expected, all right. To suffer for his foolishness.

  “Elistair was to send him here as soon as Zeveriah returned from his errand.”

  He made a noise of acknowledgment, and disapproval. “In the meantime, why don’t we adjourn to the outer room where it’s more comfortable?”

  Persephone led Lily through the alcove. “Doesn’t our granddaughter look stunning, dear?”

  “I am remiss in mentioning it, though it struck me as soon as I saw you. Has Persephone worked her wardrobe magic on you?”

  Lily laughed. “Yes, she has.”

  Mm, nice drape to the fabric, though he’d prefer she wore a dress rather than a vest and slacks. Yes, the vest with nothing under it held a certain allure, an air of femininity; however, not nearly as alluring as a gown. And must she wear that pendant everywhere?

  The levity of the moment broke when Zeveriah strode in, breathless, and came to an abrupt halt. Lacking his usual devil-may-care demeanor, his appearance likewise lacked the archduke’s usual polish, and suggested he threw on the first available change of clothes.

  “My apologies,” Zev said. “I was detained elsewhere.”

  And soon you may be again, under less pleasant conditions. “Archduke, thank you for joining our little soiree. Go help yourself to a drink. Dinner will be served soon.”

  Zev strode out. Hades took note of both Lily and Persephone’s barbed looks at his departing figure. What in hells had gone on today? From the definite chill in the air, damage control might possibly be beyond his ability.