The Dancer (Men of the North Book 7)

by Elin Peer

  His face was impassive and he showed no sign of having moved from his spot by the wall.

  “I’ve never seen dancing like that.” Zasquash grinned at me. “I didn’t even know the human body could be that flexible. You’re insane, woman.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “I mean insanely good,” he clarified.

  Solo still kept his face straight, as if I wasn’t even there. Not that I cared what he thought of my dancing.

  The orchestra was on stage now; their instruments had been in the back part of the stage from the beginning. The fine sound of a single harp began, soon followed by three violins. It sounded ethereal and Zasquash tilted his head to listen.

  Soon the other instruments chimed in and all twelve members of the orchestra were playing beautiful music.

  “Not bad.” Zasquash walked over to stand in front of Solo. “What do you think?”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Fuck, you’re in a strange mood today.”

  Solo’s answer came out in a clipped fashion. “I’m not here to enjoy the concert. I have a job to do.”

  “I know, but Leo and his boys already got the audience taken care of. I think we’ll be fine. Relax a little, will you?”

  Solo shrugged. “You do you. I do me.”

  Ben came to join us and gave me a hug. “I was watching from the back of the theater. They loved your dancing.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So did I, by the way.” He laughed. “You looked absolutely breathtaking on that stage. Have you ever considered acting? You’re very expressive when you dance and there aren’t many actresses your height. You could play a Northlander bride. Do you want me to put in a word for you with the film producer I was talking about?”

  I nodded my head with eagerness. “That sounds fun.”

  Ben rubbed my arm and turned his attention to Salma. “You ready?”

  She bit her lip and moved her feet. “I’m nervous.”

  “That’s good. Now channel those nerves into greatness.”

  “But, Ben, what if they don’t like my songs?”

  A low laughter made us all turn our heads to Zasquash.

  “What’s so funny?”

  He smiled at Salma and took a step closer. “It doesn’t matter what you sing, honey. Seeing a woman as gorgeous as you will make them worship you. How could they not? You’re the most talented and mouthwatering woman to ever visit the Northlands!”

  She blinked her eyes and raised her eyebrows in a look of astonishment. “You think so?”

  “Oh, for sure. Solo and I are already big fans. Right, Solo?”

  Solo turned his face and to my surprise he gave Salma a soft smile. “That’s right.”

  Something in me stirred. Did Solo think Salma was prettier and more talented than me?

  “Mouthwatering, as in they want to eat me?” Salma asked Zasquash, who flashed a wide grin.

  “Sure, but not in a bad way.”

  Salma turned to me and whispered. “You said the rumors of cannibalism weren’t true. How can eating someone be a good thing?” Her eyes were wide.

  “When they say ‘eat,’ they mean… ehh… a type of kissing. The men are attracted to you for your beauty and they would all like to kiss you.”

  Salma turned back to Zasquash and looked up at him. “You’ll make sure they don’t, right?”

  He puffed his large chest out. “You’re damn right I will. Don’t you worry. Solo and I are the biggest and meanest Nmen you can find. We’ve got you!”

  I took a step back when it was time for Salma to go on stage. She brushed her hands down her long crimson-colored dress and walked in to join the band and choir.

  Zasquash and Solo had heard her sound test, but they had never heard a full song like I had.

  I watched them move closer to see better, exchanging a few looks of non-verbal understanding.

  “She’s good, isn’t she?” I asked Zasquash while trying to ignore that Solo was close enough for me to touch if I reached out my hand.

  “She’s amazing.” Even though we stood in the shadows on the side of the stage, I felt the energy that shone from Salma. It was no coincidence that she was among the biggest stars in the Motherlands; before I met her, I would have never suspected that the woman shining so brightly on stage suffered from anxiety.

  “Look at her; she’s breathtaking.” Zasquash sighed and Ben grinned up at him.

  “Yeah, she’s special. I like her too.” The words coming from Solo made me stiffen.

  What was that supposed to mean?

  The audience went crazy when Salma ended the concert. She called me in to take a bow with the rest of the performers and we were overwhelmed with the loudness of the men stamping their feet and howling, something we’d never experienced in the Motherlands.

  As part of the program we had to do a short meet-and-greet with some selected audience members. Pictures were taken and interviews given to the press. By eleven that night we wrapped it up and returned to the hotel, tired and happy. Our first show had been a booming success, and all worries that the Nmen wouldn’t like what we had to bring had proven wrong.

  Salma was high on the stage adrenaline and talked more than usual. She insisted that I fly with her and Ben in the drone instead of going on the transport with the orchestra. I was honored by her interest in me and was quick to say yes, even though it meant being in a drone with Solo.

  There were ten seats in the drone and Solo sat across from me, but not once did he acknowledge my existence by looking at me or commenting on anything I said.

  I should have been happy about it, but the more I saw him studying Salma Rose, the more I didn’t like it.

  While Leo and Zasquash were praising our show, Solo leaned back in his seat and placed both hands behind his head. “It’s hot in here,” he muttered.

  Giving him a bright smile that lit up her pretty face, Salma leaned forward studying the tattoo on the underside of his bulging upper arm. “Solo, what is that green long line you have there?”

  “It’s a stalk of grass.”

  “Ahh… I thought so, but why would you get a tattoo of grass on your body?”

  “It holds meaning to me.”

  “It’s because he wants to be a cow in his next life,” Zasquash joked.

  Solo grinned at his friend. “A bull. Not a cow.”

  “Is that really why?” Salma joined in on the laughter and the two of them smiled at each other. It was the first time in seven years I’d seen Solo flash his teeth in a smile, and the transformation from his permanent grave expression to this charming smile made me suck in a breath. I had once lived for those smiles of his, and even now that I hated him, I still recognized the feeling that spread inside me, like someone was tickling my heart with a feather.

  “Salma.” Zasquash claimed her attention by calling her name. “You know that hundreds of men will be dreaming of you tonight, right?” Zasquash leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs.

  Salma made an “oh-please” gesture with her hand and pointed to me. “I’m sure most will be dreaming of Willow. She looked so graceful and beautiful with the way she danced.”

  Zasquash nodded his head. “I agree, you looked stunning, Willow. But who said that they can’t be dreaming of you both? I know I will.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Midnight Run

  Solomon

  “Shut up! You’re going to freak them out,” I reprimanded Zasquash, who had no experience with women and was like a fucking whale in a swimming pool. Too much!

  “What? By saying that we men will be dreaming about them?” He looked puzzled. “I thought I was paying our guests a compliment.”

  Salma and Willow followed the exchange between us while I looked out the window of the drone. We were landing on the roof of the hotel. “Women don’t like to hear that you dream of them. They think it’s creepy.”

  To my surprise Willow spoke up. “That depends on who is saying it.”

  I lifted b
oth palms signaling that I didn’t want to argue.

  Leo came to Zasquash’s defense. “I’m sure it’s not the first time you two ladies have been told men adore you.” He pushed the button to open the door of the drone and got out first with Zasquash. After looking around they signaled to Ben that it was safe to follow. Ben held out a hand to support first Salma and then Willow out of the drone. I looked at how willingly they took Ben’s hand and thought about the paradox that a simple touch like that could get an Nman like me killed.

  “Thank you for taking such good care of me tonight,” Salma said as I held the door to the lift open to her.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Which of you three will take the night shift?” Ben asked when we were all inside the lift.

  “Solo and Zas are splitting it. You don’t have to worry about a thing. One of them will be awake in the living room all night.”

  Salma tilted her head back and looked up at me and Zasquash. “Is that really necessary? I feel bad about keeping you up at night. You must be as tired as the rest of us.”

  Leo answered for us. “The chance of anything happening is minimal but we don’t take any chances. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

  I shrugged. “It’s okay. Zas and I are used to working in shifts and skipping sleep. We’re soldiers.”

  “I guess.” A line formed between her eyebrows. “But even soldiers are human and we humans need to sleep.”

  The lift stopped and we exited, going down the hallway with Leo in front with Ben. Willow hurried after them as not to be stuck with me while Salma seemed to be in no rush and walked with me and Zasquash.

  “It’s nice of you to care.” I shot Salma another warm smile. The woman had surprised me on so many levels. Not only was she truly talented and had an amazing voice, but she was kind too. And not in that sugary Motlander way where it’s all about being pleasant and polite. Salma was genuine and vulnerable around us. She didn’t boss us around but seemed grateful that we were there to protect her and ease her fears. It was so unexpected and refreshing after the disappointment of meeting Willow’s hostile attitude.

  “Good night.” Willow was by the door to her room and turned to look at Salma. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Salma opened her arms and walked over to hug Willow. “You did amazingly well. I’m so glad that you’re here. Sweet dreams, Willow.”

  I stood behind them and saw Willow’s face when she hugged Salma and closed her eyes. “Same to you. I’m an even bigger fan now than I was before we met.”

  They laughed and pulled apart.

  “Good night.” Zasquash lifted his chin to Willow as she opened the door.

  “Good night.” She smiled at him and then for the briefest of moments her gaze landed on me. Like a mirror reflecting my own misery, Willow’s smile vanished. My chest tightened, my mouth felt dry – and then she was gone.

  Once inside the suite, Ben, Salma, and Leo disappeared into the three bedrooms.

  “I’m taking the first shift.” Zasquash planted himself on the sofa. “Solo, you should get some sleep.”

  “I don’t think I can. I’m not tired. It’s not even midnight yet.”

  “Yeah, same here, which is why I’m taking the first shift and you’re replacing me at five.”

  “Fine.” I got out my running gear and put on my shoes.

  “I wish I could join you.” Zasquash got up and walked to look out the window. “It’s a perfect night for a run.”

  “See you in an hour. Hopefully, I’ll be tired then.”

  He scoffed. “Ha! Only if you fucking sprint.”

  Walking out the door I passed Willow’s room and stopped in my tracks. The sound of running water made me rub my face. She was showering and the images that popped into my head had me fucking losing my mind.

  Move on.

  Forget about her.

  She hates you.

  I would have given my left leg to be in that shower with her. To hear her talk about our future like we used to. To feel her lips on my lips. To touch that perfect body that hundreds of men had admired when she danced tonight.

  I had seen her performance and she had been a vision out of this world with her fluid movements and sublime choreography. Every man watching her had been captivated by how beautiful she looked with her symmetrical features and large expressive eyes. Willow had spellbound them the same way she had me when she first appeared between the trees ten years ago. I had told her a million times that God had been inspired by an angel when he created her. Now I wondered if maybe the angel had really been an enchantress made to create havoc in men’s lives.

  Straightening up, I cast a last longing glance at her door and went outside to run the streets of Kingston like a madman trying to find someone he’d lost. In my case I knew where that someone was and I was trying to run away from my need to be close to her.

  You lost her.

  Accept it and move the fuck on.

  Increasing my speed, my face was twisted in physical pain from the insane pace that served only to numb my emotional suffering from self-blame. If my actions had turned someone as pure, delightful, and kind as Willow had once been into a cold cynic, then I deserved to suffer.

  It’s only with you.

  I hated that thought. We had been so close. How could a love as pure as ours have turned into hate?

  She’s still nice and kind to others.

  I slowed down and stopped to orient myself. Where the hell was I?

  Kingston was one of the larger cities on the East Coast, with around three hundred thousand people living here. Out of breath and with legs a bit shaky from the long sprint, I spun around but didn’t recognize anything. My wristband told me I was around five miles from the hotel and I estimated that I’d already been running for more than half an hour.

  I should have brought some water.

  The sounds of laughter attracted my attention to a bar down the street. Three men were standing outside, one of them pissing against the wall.

  With sweat dripping, I jogged over, and ignoring the men I entered the bar.

  “Hey, handsome, my name is Laila, what would you like to drink?” The bar-bot was a newer model and cute with her long hair in a ponytail and an impressive cleavage.

  “I just need a large glass of water.”

  “With or without ice?”

  “No ice.”

  Using a happy singsong voice, she winked at me and purred, “Coming right up.”

  While the bar-bot got me my water I sat down and scanned a room that was pretty full for a Thursday night. Most of the men were chatting quietly but a group in the back were loud and rowdy.

  “Bar-bot, get your tits over here, we need more beer,” one of them shouted.

  “I’ll be right there,” Laila called back to him, but he was drunk and when the bar-bot took time to bring me my water before serving the group, he threw a glass in her direction.

  “Where’s our fucking beer?”

  “Hey.” I turned in my chair to face them. “Quit it. You could have hit me with that glass.”

  “Shut the fuck up.” The man flipped me a finger.

  I wasn’t used to being disrespected like that. Most men who saw me had the good sense to not mess with me but I wasn’t in my uniform and I was sitting down.

  “Just take it down a notch,” I told him but that only drew the attention from the four other drunken fools at his table.

  “Didn’t you just tell him to shut the fuck up? So why is he still talking?” one of them said to the man who had thrown the glass.

  I ignored them. It was late and I just wanted to drink my water and go back to the hotel. In one long slurp I emptied the glass and put it down on the counter. It would take me longer to get back since I had no intention of sprinting and I had to follow the GPS.

  “I’ll take the redhead in the choir any day. Did you see the size of her tits?”

  That comment made me stay in my seat for a second longer, listening to
the conversation among the rowdy group.

  “You can have her. I’m taking the singer. I’ll bet I can get her to scream really loud.” His disgusting words were followed by a low rumbling laugh.

  I didn’t need to ask what choir or singer they were talking about. Their talk made me see red.

  “Did you see how flexible the pretty dancer was? That tight body needs to be wrapped around mine. I’ll bet she can squeeze around my dick and milk it really good.”

  I walked over in three long strides and pulled the man who had spoken about Willow out of his seat. My face flushed with rage.

  “Don’t you ever fucking talk about women that way.”

  His friends scrambled to their feet as I held the man dangling over the floor. He was suffocating from my grip in his collar, but I didn’t care. “Show some god damn respect.”

  “Put him down.” One of his friends picked up a chair to use as a weapon.

  “Are you done being a dick?” I asked the dangling man, who now had a crimson-red face.

  He couldn’t talk but blinked his eyes to indicate a “yes.”

  I was just about to release him when his friend smashed the chair into my side. That enraged me further.

  Dropping the first idiot, I went after the second.

  He screamed when I got a hold on him. My knuckles touched his face with speed and force, making the man fall to the floor. I turned to the other three with anger. “Are all you fuckers done trash-talking women now?”

  They all nodded their heads vehemently and then one of them gave me an instant’s warning when his gaze slid behind me.

  I turned fast and managed to block most of the impact from the bottle that crashed down on my shoulder, exploding with pieces of glass flying around.

  My attacker was stabbing the air with the broken bottle, using it as a weapon, and got lucky enough to scratch my neck and jaw.

  I hissed and ripped the bottle from him, throwing it across the room. By now the light in the bar was blinking: a signal that the police had been called.

  I put my attacker to sleep with an elbow to his face and scowled at his friends, waiting to see if any of them were stupid enough to attack as well. They were sobering up fast and pulled back.