“A small detour,” he murmurs, whisking me between the slow-dancing supernaturals.
It’s impossible to keep my distance in the space between other dancers. When Julian slips his arm around my waist, drawing me closer, I inhale again the earthy scents of forest and river water. Scents I love.
He catches my eye before slipping his other hand across my back between my shoulder blades and beneath my hair. Our bodies press against each other fully, my hips plastered against his. If he shifted his hand a few inches higher, he could cradle my neck. I imagine what would happen if he ran his fingers through my hair, sending all the needy tingles to my toes. I could tip my head back, arch up, and close the gap between our lips…
There aren’t enough mental slaps in the world right now.
“You promised me a drink, not a dance,” I say, forcing myself to stiffen in his arms and pull a few inches away, refusing to give in to my impulses. “I don’t like surprises.”
I don’t like losing control.
“Surprises make life interesting,” Julian replies calmly, drawing me slowly into the dance. “Take you, for example.”
“What about me?” I demand to know. “You already claim to know all there is.”
He sounds disappointed. “Not even close. I was sure you were going to go for the kill when I approached you in the park before your ticket arrived. I was surprised when you didn’t.”
I smother a laugh. What sort of reputation do I have?
“I don’t kill strangers on a whim.” In fact, I’ve never actually hurt anyone. My combat moves are primarily defensive, and, if I attack, I aim only to put my opponent on their ass long enough for me to assert my dominance and for them to back down.
I stare at him when he continues to look at me as if he’s still confused.
“You really thought I might try to kill you?” I ask.
He shrugs as we continue to sway in a slow dance. “Everyone in the kitsune community knows you gained your strength tail earlier than anyone ever has. That kind of power is bound to influence your decisions.”
There’s a question in his voice, as if he’s testing my answer.
I nearly snarl. “No more than the alienation that comes with not gaining my other tails. I’m a fucking pariah among our people. In fact… I’m not sure it’s wise for you to be seen dancing with me.”
Instead of heeding my warning, he pulls me in once more—the first firm move he’s made. We’re so close I’m sure he can sense the rapid beat of my heart.
“I very much want to dance with you right now.” His voice is a low rumble, the heat in his eyes revealing a hint of his animal. “Trust me… I don’t care what anyone thinks.”
It suddenly dawns on me that he hasn’t looked at my marks once. Now, he does, a slow assessment that doesn’t feel like a judgement before he drops a lingering kiss on my shoulder above the infinity loops.
His responses confuse me. Everything about him is bewildering to me.
“You seem to know a lot about me, but I don’t know anything about you other than your name,” I say. “Tell me one thing—anything—but it can’t be a lie.”
He considers me for a moment before a smile eases the tension around his mouth. “I don’t like ginger.”
I blink at him. “The color or the food?”
“The food.” He grimaces. “I can’t stand the taste.”
“Can’t take the heat more likely.” I smirk, allowing myself to relax.
The light in his eyes intensifies as he holds me so close I sense every ripple of muscle in his stomach, chest, and thighs. “I’ll take any heat you want to throw my way,” he says, daring me to comply.
I’m dangerously close to nudging his lips with mine, dying to find out if the intoxicating scents of earth and river water will fill my mouth if I kiss him.
Trying to catch my breath, I attempt to deflect. “How did you know I was going to get a ticket to The Ball anyway?”
He grimaces as he pulls back a little. “I didn’t. I only hoped you would. I needed an excuse to meet you, and I couldn’t find one before now.”
I tip my head back, peering into his eyes, trying to find the answers I need in their emerald depths.
“Why did you need to meet me?” I ask again, hoping he’ll answer me this time.
As if my question is a trigger, he pulls away completely.
“Let’s get that drink,” he says, turning away.
Every time I ask him what he wants from me, he backs away from the answer.
Inhaling the humid air, the moist fog fills my senses, replacing Julian’s scent as I follow him toward the bar. I suddenly—definitely—need that drink he promised me.
We find seats near the witch with pink hair, who is using her magic to mix multiple drinks at once. I follow the rapid path of various bottles of liquor, juice, and soda as they fly off the shelves behind her and hover mid-air, pouring their contents into glittering cocktail glasses.
As soon as we sit down, the witch leans toward us with a dark smile. “Hey darlings, I’m Onyx. Want a drink that will rock your world? Or would you prefer something tame like the drinks my friend Barasa’s offering tonight?”
The lion shifter at the other end of the bar is focused on the couple in front of him. The two can’t seem to take their hands off each other, and I’m a little jealous at how freely they act. I learned early on to place defenses around my heart.
Without even looking up, Barasa’s hand darts out to secure the bottle of vodka that was mysteriously floating away from the shelf behind him.
“Damn,” Onyx mutters. “I was hoping I could distract him with insults. Nothing rattles that shifter.” Turning back to us, she says, “Looks like you’re going to get the last of my vodka tonight.”
Julian grins at her and moves to twine his fingers through mine. With a quick questioning glance at me—at which I nod—he says, “World-rocking works for us.”
Bottles and glasses whiz around each other, somehow never spilling a drop as Onyx mixes up a purple-colored drink she calls Witch, please!
Coincidentally, or maybe not, it matches the deep lilac color of my dress.
She watches me in anticipation while I take my first sip. “What do you think, honey?”
The taste of raspberries and limes slips across my tongue, along with the sweet burn of alcohol. I can’t help the wicked smile that claims my lips as the liquid warms my heart and heats all regions of my body. “You might have outdone Dec.”
She glows at the compliment before moving on to her next customer.
I turn to find Julian studying me, an appraisal he doesn’t try to hide. “How long have you been on your own?” he asks, while leading us away from the bar.
“Nearly three years,” I answer, keeping my tone and answer casual.
“You must love your freedom.”
“I get by.”
Once we’re away from the bar crowd and seated around one of the bar tables, I take another sip of the lilac drink, enjoying the way it tingles on my tongue. I elaborate on my answer more honestly than I probably should. “Living on my own has its challenges. Paying rent can be difficult. I have to watch my own back. But sure, I can come and go as I please. What about you? Family?”