Page 8 of Nightmare's Dance

This time, Geraint’s hand found my shoulder and squeezed. “My spark is amazing.”

I just about melted at the adoration in his voice. “You’re amazing,” I shot back, not quite able to take the full brunt of the praise.

“Have you two known each other long?” The woman with the cornflower blue eyes looked between us.

The creep must have put me on edge because the innocent question had me tensing up again. We got asked that question constantly, and it had never bothered me before.

“A year or two,” Geraint replied with a smirk.

That was not his normal answer. Maybe I was right to be on edge. We usually told people we’d grown up together.

I kept my stage smile plastered on my face. What was going on?

“I believe we’ve reached a much-needed break,” Geraint said gently. “Mind if I steal my spark away?”

“No, thank you for the magnificent show.” She included both of us in her praise.

Geraint favored her with his best smile. The one that melted panties off women. I could almost see the three ladies get wet under his full attention. Normally it would have had me anticipating more once we were alone, or dragging him off to a private room, but not tonight. Right now, something was wrong. I didn’t like it one bit, so I kept the stage smile plastered to my face and let Geraint lead me first to the bar where we dropped off our bottles, then out of the dining area to the back room.

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” Geraint said quietly after he shut the door. “Let’s go. If they’re cranky, we can refund some of the money.”

“Yeah, tell them I got a headache or something.” I shivered. “Geraint, why was that weird? Nothing about that should have been weird.”

My knight sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know, Spark. Let’s get changed and get home.”

Happy to take the simple route, I quickly slid out of my dress and into some yoga pants and a long, colorful jersey top that covered my butt. Geraint stuffed our clothing into our bags—the dress needed dry cleaning anyway—and shouldered them.

The soft party music filtered through the closed door, and I could make out the mixed smells from the kitchen over the faint whiff of sweat both Geraint and I exuded. A shower would have felt amazing, but I wanted to get out of there more than I wanted to make use of the attached bathroom. The unease lodged in my throat and made it hard to breathe.

Geraint came over and put his arm around me. “We’ll be okay, Spark. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

I leaned into his familiar embrace for a few moments, believing him. He always took care of me.

That he hesitated by the door, listening before he turned the brass knob and looked out into the hallway before gesturing for me to follow, freaked me out.

Throat tight, heart racing in my chest, I followed. Why was I so afraid? There was no reason that either of us should be on edge. Still, I didn’t object when Geraint pushed us back into a bathroom and shut the door, moments before someone came striding down the hallway. Adrenalin surged with every determined, heavy thump of the person’s shoes on the wooden floor. I assumed it was a man from the weight behind those steps, but it could have been a larger woman, too.

Geraint nearly held his breath, and my exhalations sounded harsh in my ears. Surely whoever it was could hear my heart pounding in my chest? The rasp of my breath? I tried to quiet myself like my knight, but I couldn’t still the tremble in my hand. The overpowering floral smell of the nicely appointed bathroom mixed poorly with my fear and turned my nearly empty stomach. Suddenly grateful I hadn’t eaten much after our performance, I pressed my shaking hands into my stomach and tried not to retch bile.

After a moment, Geraint cracked the door and glanced up and down the hallway. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he took my hand and pulled me after him. I didn’t even mind, though his tight grip spoke of his fear and was not reassuring.

We found a side door. The wet humidity contrasted sharply with the conditioned air, and I shuddered at the abrupt change. It mixed with my fear, adding to the disconnect I felt with reality. Things like this did not happen. Hell, I didn’t even know what this was. Were we freaking out over nothing?

A few path lights illuminated the dark night. Light filtered around the edges of drawn blinds from the house windows. Between the two, there was enough light to see the concrete sidewalk and avoid a few low-hanging branches from trees heavy with blossoms. The perfume of thousands of flowers clogged my nose.

Geraint picked up the pace, and I jogged behind him as we headed for the parking area where we’d left the van Robby should have our gear loaded in. He’d be waiting, possibly with the engine running. I was sure Geraint had already texted him, though I hadn’t seen him do it.

When we’d arrived during the last bits of daylight, I’d found the grounds with their gardens and hedges and trees shielding the house from view of the rest of the neighborhood quite charming. Now I was jumping at shadows, expecting to get attacked at any moment.

There, the van, running, headlights shining down the driveway. Just a hundred more yards and we’d be on our way home.

Though I had been expecting an attack, when Geraint lunged forward, fist smacking into someone I hadn’t even seen until they were sailing backward, I couldn’t help but squeal in fear.

I’d never seen Geraint punch anything before, but the guy crumpled in the hedge certainly knew he’d been hit. Or he would when he woke up. Damn.

Geraint grabbed my arm, fingers bruisingly tight. I didn’t complain, just ran with him. Hoping we’d make it.

We were almost there, close enough that I could see Robby in the driver’s seat. Close enough that I could see him slumped over the steering wheel, when Geraint skidded to a halt, hands going up in the classic “don’t shoot” pose.

---