Page 38 of Rebel Spell
“No. I don’t go out much.”
“Well, you are tonight. And I think we should make the most of it.” After finishing her glass, she placed it on a tray on a table. “Let’s dance.”
“Oh, no,” I protested. “I don’t remember the last time I danced.”
“Come on,” she encouraged.
When she took my hand and nudged me toward the dance floor, I groaned and finished my drink. She led me into the middle of the crowd and moved her body to Stevie Wonder’s “Superstitious.” It was slow enough that I could just move through the motions without much effort.
Through the next few songs, I relaxed dancing with Nova. She was clearly enjoying herself as she danced to “This is Halloween” fromThe Nightmare Before Christmas, and her joy was infectious. When the Meteor’s “Little Red Riding Hood” played, I alternated between spinning her around and pulling her in close. When I accidentally pulled her in too quickly, she bumped against my chest and gasped.
“Are you okay?” I asked, glancing at her with concern.
She stared up at me and her lips spread into a smile. “Never danced with a vampire before.” She arched a brow. “I now know to be aware of your strength and speed.”
I winked. “I’ll tone it down to keep you safe.”
The next song was L7’s “Pretend We’re Dead.”
I joked, “I don’t need to pretend,” and she laughed. Seeing her happy encouraged me to continue. I loosened up around her and got into it.
People danced like zombies in Michael Jackson’s “Thriller,” and we joined in, chuckling at our increasingly ridiculous moves.
The DJ slowed things down with Frank Sinatra’s “Bewitched,” and I pulled Nova in close.
“Despite your reluctance to dance, you seem like you’re having fun.” Her cheeks turned rosy and so enticing. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
I hadn’t wanted to come to this ball, but now I couldn’t think of anywhere I’d rather be than dancing with her. We were having such a great time—better than any I could remember since I’d been turned.
Aware of our closeness and all the areas our bodies touched, from our joint hands to her breasts pressed against my chest, I had to swallow before I replied. “I am.”
“I’m glad.” She smiled, and it dazzled me. I couldn’t tear my gaze from hers, losing myself in her hazel eyes.
As we swayed together, her intoxicating scent strummed through me, stirring my cravings. I longed to kiss her, to taste her blood, and to bury myself inside her. Hell, I wanted her. There was no denying it any longer. The tease of her lips on mine two days ago had haunted me with the yearning to kiss her again.
And do so much more.
Recognition flickered in her eyes as if she sensed my rising hunger. Her eyelids lowered, as she devoured me with a look of longing that mirrored my own. My gaze dropped to her parted, red lips, and desire pulsed in my veins. I bent my head toward hers in what seemed like achingly slow motion.
And then finally, my mouth was on hers. Her lips were warm, soft, and everything I wanted. Kissing her on the dance floor, I buzzed with a feeling that I hadn’t had since I’d been turned. It was something elusive. Something I never thought I’d feel again.
Hope.
When we parted, her breaths came short and quick. Her expression was wondrous, as if she was just as dazed by that magical touch.
I searched for words, but none came.
Nova sighed. “It’s so hot in here. I could use some air.”
“Good idea,” I steered us through the dancers toward the exit.
“Diego.” It was a woman’s voice, one I hadn’t heard in so long, and I cringed. All the heat that had simmered through me while kissing Nova cooled like I’d stepped into a tomb.
My jaw clenched as I turned to face my ex. “Diana.”
She stood beside a tall vampire with slick-backed blond hair and a pinstripe suit. She appeared as beautiful as always, statuesque and slim, almost a twin for Grace Kelly. Her off-white beaded flapper dress clung to her, revealing her slim limbs.
“You came.” She brushed my forearm, and I resisted recoiling. Why did she have to touch me?
