Page 46 of Lord of Dance and Desire

“She isn't political,” I replied carefully, forcing my fingers to lie still on my thigh.

The group dance had displayed her talent, her joy and heart though she was not the superior technical dancer. Despite that, the eye turned to her time and time again.

She was riveting.

And she’d held back. I knew how my Anah truly danced. I also knew she couldn’t restrain herself indefinitely. Eventually her nature would start to leak out. How much, and how much it would displease my mother, was the question.

“Not political?” Skepticism in Issahelle’s voice. “She's ambitious—that's political enough. Does she love you?”

“That’s almost an impertinent question, my Lord.”

She chuckled under her breath. “And an equally impertinent evasion. Hmm. Of course she loves you. Who wouldn't love Andreien Sahakian? You collect hearts as easily as bees gather honey. The wonder is that most of the hearts you’ve taken as yours remain intact.” She cast me a brief, affectionate glance, though none of it showed on her face. “My gentle son.”

“Her affinity is a weakness,” Mia said, lounging elegantly in her seat. “Take it away and the straw girl will collapse.”

I refrained from snapping at my sister, keeping my voice idle, slightly amused. “Straw, Miahela? My Anah is made of sterner stuff than that.”

They'd learn. I’d enjoy watching. Which reminded me I’d promised Anah to lay in a stock of popping corn. I wasn’t certain if she wanted it for eating, or for making mischief.

I paid only partial attention as the solos began, though when the red-haired girl and pretty dark-skinned boy who belonged to Anah came on stage, I observed them to ascertain what it was in them my bonded clung to. Them, and the wintry pale Ninephene female that Theland was investigating. She danced perfectly, but with no love. An empty vessel. Or she was here for other purposes. She was connected to Ashlyun, and he was charged with hunting down and eradicating Ixnie. Her presence in the Arts at this time was curious.

The theater fell silent as the first notes of ethereal music began, a deep pulsing bass beneath the higher melody. The crowd had quieted at the sound of her name, Hasannah Kawelo, causing me to sigh. She was already known, at least throughout these circles. She’d carried herself with demure aloofness among the nobles earlier, draped in gold, her elegant neck bare to greedy eyes.

If she’d thought to remain quiet and unnoticed, her strategy had backfired. My people loved nothing more than a locked puzzle box to pry open, the more cunning force required the better. Her cool rebuffing of the subtle interest extended her only whet their appetites for challenge.

She unfolded slowly, the tips of her slippered toes pointed exquisitely, her arms arched gracefully over her head as she swayed backwards, then drifted into motion, sheer, scarlet dipped white skirts drifting around her.

Unlike some of the other dancers, she'd chosen music stripped down to minimal, haunting parts, but despite the utter silence in the room, I barely heard the soft thud of her feet when she touched down on the floor. And it was as if she barely touched down, exploding into a wild motion of leaps and spins that somehow thrummed along my spine, each step plucking an internal string that led to the deep well of my power. She was a maelstrom, and she called on mine.

As I watched, awe and dread combining, I felt the subtle tendrils of her power begin to drift through the room.

Darkness damned, Hasannah.

I kept the words strictly in my own mind. Not that she would probably hear me now.

“Ah,” my mother said. “Finally. She likes to tease.”

Lord Issahelle leaned forward; barely a fraction of an inch, but I flinched. Had she moved of her own volition, or would she later determine she’d been answering that siren’s call?

Not a strong call. . .I doubted Anah was even aware of how her succubus nature leaked through her dance; shewastrying to control it.

But she couldn’t control it. It would be like asking me not to come when I fucked her. Not to fall another rung deeper in love with her.

We watched her now, and I wondered if she felt our avid gazes or if she completely lost herself inside the dance. Then I thought no more, because though I'd seen her dance before, I'd never seen her dance quite like this.

Chapter

Twelve

HASANNAH

As soon as I left the stage those witches, grace and poise, deserted me like I was trash. I stumbled past the waiting dancers, ignoring stares and babbled conversation, riding the waves of euphoria I knew meant I would be in trouble with Andrei later.

My succubus might have slipped the leash just a teensy bit.

But none of my fellow dancers were attempting to follow me, or calling my name, so it meant I'd more or less controlled myself. I returned to the dressing room, using the wall as support and headed towards my vanity, plopping onto my stool as I stared at the large bouquet of flowers that obscured the mirror.

As my heart rate slowed, I smiled. Only Andrei would have sent me flowers and, of course, it was a huge, almost extravagant arrangement.

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