“There are a lot of people here. This will take a while,” I commented.
Nero held out his hand to me. “Dance with me.”
“I thought you didn’t dance,” I said. “Or at least didn’t dance with me.”
In a moment of insanity, I’d once asked him to dance with me in a club. He’d turned me down. Weeks later, it still stung. The reasonable, logical part of me told me I shouldn’t let it bother me, but I’d never been good at doing what I was told.
“There are thirty-two people on the dance floor. Dancing is the most effective way to get us close to all of them,” he said.
“Oh. Ok.”
So this wasn’t really about dancing. Blushing, I took his hand, and he led me onto the dance floor. His skin burned against mine, like he had a fire raging inside of him.
“You’re hot,” I said.
His brows arched as he set his other hand on my back.
“I meant your temperature,” I said quickly.
He shifted his weight in a firm but smooth movement that pivoted us around, moving us closer to another couple. “It’s all the magic I’ve done tonight. It makes me hot.”
I choked down a cough.
“I meant my temperature,” he told me, his lower lip twitching.
I stared past his shoulder. “Another couple just stepped onto the dance floor. We haven’t checked them out yet.”
In response, he pivoted us again, moving us toward the new arrivals. From there, he led us past the others in a search pattern so methodical that I was surprised no one had noticed. Then again, no one came to a party expecting to be aura-scanned by an angel in disguise. And if the thief was here, he hadn’t noticed either. I’d been tracking everyone in the room since we’d arrived, and no one had made a move to leave.
“I wanted to dance with you.”
I paused my tracking for a moment to look at Nero. “What?”
“That time you asked me. I wanted to say yes.”
My heart thundered. “What stopped you?”
“Everything.”
I let out a pitiful laugh. I was trying not to feel anything, not to care, but it was hard when he was dancing so close to me, when his cheek was pressed against mine.
“I’m drawn to you, Leda,” he whispered. His words kissed my ear, fluttering down my spine. “You are a drug—your blood, your magic, your very presence. And you make me human.” He sighed. “I’ve tried to fight it, but it’s no use. You consume my every thought. You invade my dreams.”
I drew in closer, drinking in his words. He was my drug too, but that wasn’t a solid foundation for a relationship. “If this is where you say let’s just have sex so you can get me out of your system, then save your breath. I told you it doesn’t work that way for me.”
Nero’s hand brushed softly down my cheek. “Leda,” he said, his voice sensual, dark, ruthless. He spoke as though he knew he had me, and he was just waiting for me to finally realize it.
His eyes weren’t cold now. They burned like an inferno. I knew that inferno would be the death of me, and the scary thing was I just didn’t care. I wanted nothing more than to bathe in those flames with him.
I looked away from Nero before I did something stupid—and it was a good thing I had. “Two men are staring at us.”
“Where?” he asked. Gone was the dark lover. Only the Legion soldier in him remained.
“By the bar.”
Nero turned us around so he had a clear view of the bar. His eyes flickered to the men before returning to me. The movement was so quick that I barely caught it, and only because I was in front of him. Unless they had angel senses, they couldn’t have seen it from across the room.
“The bald man is Pyralis Carver,” he said to me.
“You know him?”
“He is Morgana Bennet’s predecessor, the former leader of the Scimitar coven.”
“Morgana overthrew him?” I asked.
“With the help of the other covens, yes.”
“What is he doing here?”
“Nothing good,” said Nero. “I don’t recognize the man with him. Whoever he is, he doesn’t belong here. He’s no witch.”
“What is he?”
“From the feel of his magic, a shifter.”
“A werewolf?”
“Yes.”
“You are getting all of this from his aura?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Let’s move in closer to see what else you can sense from those two.” Like Ice Crystals.
“No need. I will bring them to us.”
He let go of me, striding forward. A tendril of electric-blue magic slid out of each of his hands. In a flash of speed, he cracked those magic whips, looping them around the mens’ ankles. Nero heaved on the sizzling whips, and the men flew off their feet, hitting the wood floor with a hollow thump. He pulled again to bring them to rest in front of his feet. He looked down on them, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply.
“You stole something that doesn’t belong to you,” he told the men.
Pyralis Carver’s mouth twisted into a demented smile. “Now I’m going to give it back.”
Everyone in the room dropped to the floor.
20
Between Hell and Earth
Unlike the hundred witches who’d been partying just a few seconds ago, Nero and I were still standing. Pyralis Carver and his shapeshifting friend shot us a surprised look, then jumped up and ran, their footsteps thumping over the soft heartbeats of the sleeping witches. Thank goodness the partiers weren’t dead.