Page 12 of The Devil and His Goddess

“Did they just start class?” I whispered.

Rupert nodded his salt-and-pepper head and jotted something down in his notebook. “Yeah. They just finished warm-ups and exercises. You haven’t missed anything.”

I opened my own notebook, ready to jot down who did what well and who missed what. My presence had stirred things up a bit. Theirbigboss was now present, so the determination in the air had spiked.

Which dancers would catch my eye? Who would become principal dancers? Who would be the ballerina that I could rely on?

I was just as eager for those answers as they were, so I watched each person carefully. Everyone here was a talent in their own right, but a few ballerinas and danseurs caught my eye as they worked through the day-long training, which included learning a routine that everyone would be using for this sort of audition week.

Samir. The dark-headed danseur was tall and built in a way that would allow excellent strength and form as a principal dancer. He’d been a principal dancer in previous years, and I recognized him as the man who’d played Prince Siegfried on the last three years worth of recordings I’d studied. He was quick, flexible, and good-looking.

Another danseur that promised the same qualities was Elijah, the dark-skinned guy I’d seen with Harper. Not only did he share those qualities with Samir, but there was a certain way Elijah held his mouth or eyes that expressed deep emotion as he moved with the instructions given. It was beautiful to watch, and he wasn’t even performing a given character yet.

As for the ballerinas, there were a few who drew me in. The dainty yet fiery blonde, Mandi. She had a certain softness to her while also a confident curve to her lips and tilt of her chin, and that, paired with her elegant technique, made her a strong contender for being a principal dancer.

Others, like Katerina, Carmen, Samantha, and Rosá, were ballerinas that stood to be principal dancers.

My attention inevitably gravitated to where it had been magnetically drawn throughout the entire day.

My goddess, like other ballerinas in the room, was turning in pirouettes. My mouth dried at the sight of her lean legs and graceful arms moving through the technique. There was so much raw power behind each and every move she made, and a fire seemed to burn at her core, extending beyond to wrap her entire lithe form in thisvibrance. So much majesty and strength resided inside of her. It didn’t matter that this was a practice room full of fellow company dancers and not a stage facing hundreds of audience members. She danced as if this day would be her last day, pouring every bit of love she had for the art into the gesture of a finger, the poise of her shoulders, and the elegance of her feet.

When the day finished, I wanted to growl at Harper to get her ass back in the room. I wasn’t done watching her dance. I restrained from demanding that—barely—because I didn’t have time for that right now.

With my day at Silverlight done, I returned to my office for privacy before conjuring shadows to step through. When I came out of them seconds later, I stood in the center of Xander’s penthouse apartment in New York City.

While all the members of Sinners Do It Better had moved to Tennessee, a couple still had their New York homes for occasions when we had to travel back here for shows and work.

Zagan had been here this week to film some hip-hop videos with a New York dance company. Dante had come for some book convention, and Coldin was scheduled to shoot a drumming video for some popular music channel. Since the majority of the members were already here, Xander and I joined them so that the five of us could sit down today to film our official hiatus announcement.

“Pers,” Xander greeted with a wide grin when I appeared. He wore black cargo pants and a band t-shirt, and he lounged back on his leather couch, lazily running a hand over the shorter half of his dark hair.

Dante stood between the couch and the tripod in front of it, adjusting the height and angle of the phone we’d be live-streaming our news on. He glanced over his shoulder and tipped his dark, scruffy chin at me. “Sup, man.”

“How was the book convention?” I asked Dante as I settled on the couch beside Xander.

“Fucking awesome,” Dante announced as he stepped back to observe the phone. Satisfied with its placement, he dropped onto my other side. “Stocked up on plenty of new books, including an entire demon romance series.” Dante flashed Xander and I an amused smirk. “Very interested to see whatthat’slike.”

Xander and I laughed. Human portrayals of demons always made for a good time. It often had us cackling, even the less than flattering depictions they made of us. We found it highly amusing to see what mortals thought we looked like, what we were into, and what we craved.

Zagan and Coldin appeared next to the line of windows across from us. The two were dressed in all black, as usual.

“Glad to see everyone’s already here,” Zagan said, raking a hand through his dark hair. His blue eyes locked on mine. “Especially you, Mr. Boss Man.”

“I may be Boss Man now, but I’ll always make time for my boys,” I said with a smile. “Our band is just as important to me as Silverlight.”

“I guess our hiatus came at a good time,” Zagan noted as he sat next to Dante while Coldin sat beside Xander. Zagan leaned forward so he could peer past Dante to meet my eyes. “You can get your ballet company ready and where you want it during the band’s break.”

He spoke, almost as if posing a question instead of actually stating something. It was like he hoped I saw this as a great opportunity to do something I was passionate about rather than as a disappointment for our band.

My suspicion was only confirmed when he turned to Dante and said, “And you’ll get to finally read more off your long list of books.”

“Z,” I said carefully, reaching past Dante to grip Zagan’s shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about this break. We don’t blame you for needing time.”

“Yeah,” Dante agreed. He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Everyone needs a break. You’ve been going, going, going non-stop. So don’t worry about us, Sinners Do It Better, or the Sinners. We’ll get back into music when you’re ready, and the Sinners will wait for that.”

Zagan’s pierced brow furrowed, and he stared at his clasped tattooed hands. The four of us let him have a moment to really soak in our words and believe them, because we meant it. Zagan wroteallof the music for our group, and the demand for our songs washigh.

Could the rest of us pitch in to help? Sure.

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