When what she needed to be doing was looking for the club’s exit.
She got her bearings, noted a few landmarks on the way out. “Am I the only human here?” Maybe she’d try for a little truth before she left.
Nael clearly hadn’t expected her question. He glanced at the female gyrating in front of them and then looked at her. “What do you think?”
“I’m not.” She looked around the floor and identified a sprinkling of the non-paranormal. “Why not?” The public was conspicuously absent, but a handful of professionals remained, including the club’s bartenders and hired dancers, some of them clearly human.
“Insurance,” Nael muttered, his hand pressing into the small of her back.
“Excuse me?”
“Insurance,” he repeated patiently. “Thirst starts to get out of control, the dancers volunteer. You’re safe.”
Hysterical laughter bubbled up. She wasn’t safe at all.
“Walk in the park,” he murmured into her ear. His hand was a reassuring weight at the small of her back. “You do a little dancing, get to know my brothers. Then, at midnight, you choose.”
Except he wasn’t suggesting a blind date or even a one-night stand. Nael expected her to choose a bond mate, and she was under no illusions that Zer had gone to this much trouble for a twenty-four hour hookup. He wanted something more, and the real question was: just how much
more
did he expect?
“I’m not choosing,” she said. “He can’t make me.”
Nael considered that for a moment. Nodded. “But it doesn’t hurt anyone to think about it, does it? You consider it. Look at them,” Nael added softly. “I’ll introduce you around. You’ve got plenty of time to decide if you like what you see or not.”
Part of him wished she could have been his. But he knew that wasn’t happening. She’d already made her choice, even if she didn’t know it yet. Still, he figured she was owed some pleasure, and nobody better to see to that than his brothers. Maybe her body knew that, too, because she melted beneath the gentle pressure of his hand, letting him steer her into the crowded dance floor, where his brothers’ hot eyes and the hotter press of bodies swallowed her up.
Just a few minutes. His eyes examined the edge of the dance floor, searching for his sire. There was no sign of Zer, though, so he could let her have these last few minutes of freedom. Maybe she wasn’t the same as him, didn’t crave the touch of others, but he wanted to give her that pleasure nevertheless.
“Dance with me,” he whispered against her ear, drinking in her shiver. “Feel us, Nessa.”
The music pulsed through him, a living, breathing techno beat connecting him and her and the other dancers. Here, on the dance floor, you could lose all sense of self in the wash of colors and sensations. “Feel, Nessa.”
Male hands stroked along her forearms, her neck, the curve of her shoulder. The stripped-down sound of the music was as raw as the males themselves, and he read all too clearly on Nessa’s face her conflict. She felt exposed, naked. Aroused. His brothers were looking at her like she was the sun, moon, and stars of their universe, and she’d never, ever, had anyone—human or not—look at her like that.
The next brother ignored her protests, gently coaxing. Scooping her up and holding her for a brief moment against a hard, masculine chest. Nael knew she was close enough to hear the blades shift, but the male was good. He took his moment, and then, before he could scare her and force Nael to go all Dominion on his ass, he remembered the rules of the game and gently placed her back on her feet in the center of the dance floor. His fingers remained loosely around her wrist for a moment before sliding away. He wasn’t forcing her.
“Dance, female. Dance with us.”
They were waiting for something she couldn’t, wouldn’t give them. Since there was no way out but through, she danced.
When she’d finally managed to dance her way across the club, it was almost midnight. Nessa could feel the anticipation building in the room. The problem was, she was the cynosure of all eyes, even the ones discreetly pretending not to stare. The power was seductive but disturbing. She didn’t like the desperate hope she felt coming off these males. There was definitely something she hadn’t been told.
Who was she kidding? No one had bothered giving her the lowdown on anything happening here, only a deadline of midnight. Well, fine. She’d chosen—and she was so out of here. It was going to have to be the fire door, however, because the main door was clearly out of the question. The door to the alley was no good, either; she had no illusions about how fast they’d be on her. She’d be trapped like a prize heifer in a chute, and that wasn’t the way she was planning on ending her evening.
Her only options were leaving—or staying. If she stayed, she put it all on the line, and she chose. She bonded with one of
them,
and then, even if she found out the truth, it would be too late. Her soul wouldn’t be her own anymore.
When she took another step, her heel hit carpet rather than the slick tile of the dance floor. Bingo. Damn red dress lit her up better than a neon prey-is-here sign, though. Leave it to Zer to pick out a dress that both pushed her out of her comfort zone and made her wonder if she should rethink her decision. Maybe she’d keep the dress; she didn’t need to keep
him.
Maybe she could find a jacket, something to throw over the betraying color. Problem was, the Fallen didn’t seem to leave their possessions lying around. No jackets hanging off the back of chairs or tossed on the sleek leather banquettes dotting the club’s perimeter. Plus, she had a nagging feeling that they could scent her. They’d be all over her ass and on her trail in a heartbeat.
Still, she had to try, so she’d do it fast.
Casually, she toed off the killer heels. No way she could run in those. She’d break an ankle—or two—and then Zer would have her right where he wanted her. A barefoot escape was safer, although it was cold as hell outside, and she wasn’t looking forward to taking on the pavement.
Wait for it.
The music transitioned into another pulse-pounding blend of house and techno, the dancers moving faster in a sensual daze. Sliding quickly between the two nearest banquettes, she plotted her next move. The crowd was turning, looking up toward a second-floor balcony, and that worked in her favor. Fewer eyes for her to evade.
Maybe this could work.
Her hand hit the metal push bar.
And stopped dead. Nael’s fingers wrapped around her wrist, and, wouldn’t you know it, the damned door didn’t budge. He wasn’t hurting her, but she wasn’t going anywhere without his say-so.
“Let me out.” No point in pretending she wasn’t leaving. He had eyes in his head.
She didn’t like the small smile that touched the corners of his mouth. Regretful. Clearly, he wasn’t in an accommodating mood. “Can’t do that.”
He could; he just didn’t want to. She scrambled to think of some way to persuade him. “This isn’t right. You can’t keep me here.” Her voice sounded breathless, weak, even to her own ears.
“We need you, love, and I think you’ll find we’re not so bad.”
“You’re Fallen.” Hello, Captain Obvious. “How much more bad than that can you get?”
He smiled in acknowledgment and set to work gently prying her fingers off the door. She considered making this easy for him, retaining some shred of dignity, but surrendered to the panic building inside her.
“He told you to convince me, do whatever you needed to.” No point in dressing up the accusation. Instead, she focused her attention on the large hand wrapped around her arm. “Hands off.”
“Truth,” he acknowledged, freeing her hand and tucking it into the crook of his arm. Gentlemanly and deadly. Just her luck. “He needs you. We need you, Nessa St. James.” Those large, gentle hands were frog-marching her up the stairs. Toward the damn second-floor balcony, where everyone was staring.
“What is he to you?”
“My sire. The leader of the Fallen.” He shrugged but didn’t stop his ground-eating stride. “He led us when we were Dominions, and he did it well. When he decided to take up arms against Michael, we followed him then, too.”
“Was he ... ?” Why was she holding her breath?
“Right?” Those leather-covered legs devoured the remaining stairs. Paused. “Who really knows? Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t. You don’t need to worry about that.”
But she did. He was asking her to trust the Heavens’ bad boy.
He eyed her, clearly reading the doubt written across her face. “He’s worth fighting for, Nessa St. James. He’s a good male.”
“You think so?” She kept her words light, but she couldn’t stop her eyes from searching the shadows one more time.
“I know so.” Something shifted in his eyes. “I swore to protect him. To serve him. I
know
him. He’s worthy of much more than this—and you can help him. I can’t.” He met her gaze. “You can,” he repeated. “You ever been thirsty, Nessa?” He didn’t wait for her answer, just plowed on with his explanation. “You take that itch in the back of your throat, your body’s plea for something wet. Something cool to take the edge off the heat. You magnify that feeling until you’re burning and all you can think about is just having one swallow. One swallow—that might be enough. Just enough to wet your throat and get you through the next few seconds. The next minute.”
He wasn’t talking about water; they both knew that. “It wouldn’t be enough,” she pointed out.
“No.” Some unfamiliar emotion slid over his dark face for a moment and then vanished behind the playboy mask again. “One swallow, one taste of that sweet wetness isn’t enough. We’re addicts, and we can’t ever get enough. We don’t have souls of our own, not anymore. So every waking minute, we’re on the hunt for a substitute. For a way to ease that burning thirst.”
That wasn’t her fault, and she shouldn’t accept the heaping helping of guilt Nael was shoveling her way. She couldn’t shut out his words, though, the stark images pounding away at her mental barriers.
“He’s living with that thirst every day. You could stop it. For good.”
“How?”
“How?” Something hot and savage flashed in those dark eyes. “You have to bond with him, Nessa, body and soul. You let him in. You love him.”
Zer was right. This wasn’t something you could force. Not something you could demand with a blade. Fortunately for them both, Nael was a master seducer. This was what he was good at. So he gave his verbal seduction of Nessa St. James his all—and he told her how lonely and dark and saveable Zer was. He knew human females. She wanted the other male, but she was pissed at him for putting her into this predicament. “He’s wrong if he thinks otherwise, and you’re the only one who can make him understand that. I need you to go to him.”
I need you to bond with him.
He let her go and stepped forward onto the landing, hand primed to pull the door to the balcony open. His feet were deadly silent on the club’s plush carpeting. She hesitated beside him, and he extended her shoes to her, the impossibly feminine red stilettos dangling from his fingers. “You take these. You give him hell.”
Heaven.
“He’ll listen to you, because you’ll make him.”
She stared at him. “He’ll listen to me?”
“Now,” he urged, sinking to his knees beside her, sliding the stilettos onto her bare feet. The delicious warmth of her skin seeped into him as he wrapped his hand around her ankle.
Believe me.
“He needs you. You can save him, Nessa.”
She licked suddenly dry lips. What if she didn’t want to save Zer? What if she wanted to save herself? Nael must have read her indecision in her eyes, because he reached out a hand toward her. Dropped it when she took a step backward.
“He doesn’t want me, and I’m not a party favor he can pass around to his friends.”
She was too special for this shit. Briefly, anger flared at his sire, who was this close to the fuck-up of a near-immortal lifetime. Tamping it down, Nael sought words. “Then show him how wrong he is, love. Show him that he’s not walking away from
you.
”
Her eyes closed briefly. Snapped open. “At what price?”
He pressed a kiss against the soft skin of her calf, reluctantly sliding his mouth away. “Nothing that you can’t afford, love. In exchange, you’ll have Zer right where you want him. Eating out of the palm of your hand.”
Zer was a powerful predator, one that could never really be tamed. But she could make a difference, and Nael was willing to sacrifice everything on that chance. If Nessa St. James could save his sire, Nael would make damn sure she did.
He stood gracefully, backing away from her. Opened the door.
Even without the silent warning vibration of his vidphone, Zer would have known it was midnight. Stillness and anticipation swept through the club as the dancers pulled back, clearing the way. Above him, Nessa St. James stepped out onto the balcony, wrapping her hands around the glass and chrome railing. Silently, she stared down at his brothers, a living, crimson flame. The wicked scrap of a bodice cupped her breasts like a lover, and Zer itched to be beside her, to stroke his fingers over that agitated expanse of skin. Soothe her. Arouse her.