The Cat Dances with The Devil
“Feed?” Rhea asks, her eyes darting between us.
“I didn’t stutter, did I? Feed to replenish your energy. Clones do and the cat does, so I’m guessing you do, too. Pick some git and do your thing—whatever it is.”
Watching her as I blow smoke rings, I wait to see how this plays out. I’m not sure she’s breathing and I don’t even know what it means for her to feed. I have seen little of her powers before tonight, truthfully. But if Taurus looked anymore pleased with himself, his face would crack. I’m about to intervene when she nods.
“I’ll do it.” Her gaze is flinty as she squares her shoulders, ready for battle.
Knowing her in the context I do, I forget she and Alistair fought in the Conflict. There’s a well of strength somewhere under the marshmallow fluff. Maybe the fighting made her like she is now, or maybe something else is at play.
Wilde and Sari’s antics have me in a place I never thought I’d see myself in mentally, so I can fathom that it’s possible something damaged Rhea. There are lots of secrets in this world. People forget human inhabitants are people who had other lives before the Rift and escaped here. Falling down the rabbit hole doesn’t erase who you were before, and it certainly doesn’t fix whatever sent you here to start with.
Rhea turns on her heel and strides off to what passes for the dance floor. Her hips sway as she makes her way through the sea of writhing bodies, and I hop onto a table to see better. Realizing it won’t give me a good enough view, I climb up to one of the lower side balconies. Rhea seems confident now, but I worry about her ability to defend herself should it come to that. Her compassionate nature runs deep, and I don’t believe for a second that she’s got an inner monster like me, Sari, or Wilde.
Taurus apparates behind me, obviously in agreement that she needs to be watched. I’m about to comment on her method of choosing a ‘victim’ when the music changes and Nine Inch Nails comes on. “Oh fuck,” I mutter, knowing she has a particular affinity for this song.
Arching his brow as if I should explain, Taurus waits. I shrug, not wanting to delve into Rhea and her desire to be rebellious. Leaning over the railing, I scan the crowd for her. Finally seeing her again, I turn back to him and mutter. “You’ll see.”
He looks annoyed but gazes into the crowd pensively.
Meanwhile, Rhea has gathered a tight circle of makeup-caked guys gathered as she gyrates. The abundance of chains here is appealing to someone as bent as me, but Goth guys are way too high maintenance. That said, I’m impressed at the size of Rhea’s flock. A sniff of the air answers my question about how she feeds—at least a little. The fresh scent of sulfur says she’s using her powers—her scent sticks out like a sore thumb against the smell of sweat, greasepaint, and leather in this place.
A pair of hands grasp my waist, yanking me to a hard body. I rear back to smack the idiot that thinks they can touch me when Taurus’ lips brush my ear. His voice sounds like one no one should hear it outside of a bedroom. “I see no reason to wait for the mini Bic to get the stones to do the deed rather than dance around like a tart. We’ll likely be bored to tears if we do. I’m not one for wall flowering, so give us a dance, puss.”
Naked is not an option here for more reasons than I can count.
So I turn around, putting my palms on his chest to push him away. “Someone has their big boy pants on tonight. What makes you think I’m going to let you touch me more than I already have?”
Fangs flash as he grins cockily. His arms tighten as he hauls me closer and his body moves as if the beat is flowing through his veins. “Call it animal instinct.”
I don’t know why, but I can’t resist following his lead. My hands stay where I put them and pretend they can’t hear my brain screaming ‘what are you doing, you idiot?’. I drop my gaze for a moment and breathe. The heat coming from his eyes feels almost as dangerous as the heat coming from Rhea downstairs. Our position is making it hard to ignore how we fit together — perfectly, if you’re wondering—and though I fit well with my mates, this is different. Just because he’s a complete ass doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a nice —
Holy fuck. Stop that train before it derails. This is a terrible idea and I’m definitely not enjoying every second.
A chuckle escapes his lips and I feel it rumble through him from head to toe, like a feather tickling my skin. I dart my eyes up, daring to look at him again, and he gives me an amused grin. I can’t help wondering what he sees that is so appealing. His hands curve around my ass in a familiar squeeze and asking becomes the furthest thing from my mind.
I have to stop this before it gets completely out of hand.
“Excuse you? What gave you the idea that you’re welcome to fondle me in public?”
“Possibly your tongue in my throat earlier? Not sure, that’s only a thought.” He shrugs carelessly, not moving an inch except to squeeze again as his smirk deepens.
Our bodies plaster together, and his proximity loosens the tiny threads of the control he’s been teaching me. I feel the hum of the bass pounding in my pulse as another scent tickles my nostrils. This one makes my insides clench. My eyes shoot up to his and I lick my lips nervously. I’m venturing into Wrongsville and I don’t know what to do. Lack of control has ruined things before—see Sari and Wilde—and I don’t want to start a war.
The kiss was just his way of riling me up and this is more of the same, right?
None of that explains why I’m writhing against him or why he smells so delicious or why I never, ever learn my lesson. His intense gaze is making me squirm even more, but this is all playing, right?. “We, uh, can’t see what Rhea’s doing like this,” I croak. I try to sound concerned, but it sounds more like a vixen in a noir movie than a protest, so I shut my mouth.
“Who bloody well cares?” he growls, rumbling in that growly way that all the clones do.
They’re like giant cats. Predatory, fangy cats. Sexy cats. Who I want to—no. What in the hell is wrong with me?
“You dared her.” I’m immediately sorry I said it, then pissed that I’m worried he’ll let go.
What the fuck am I talking about? I want him to let go. Don’t I?
His sigh is full of exasperation as he whirls me around. My body is pressed between him and the railing while we move to the thrumming beat. This is the longest club mix of a song ever played—I’m convinced of that. Rhea’s crowd is still going and I’m still dancing with the devil in the pale black light to a song that talks about fucking every thirty seconds, like it’s a suggestion.
Fuck. Me.
Please.
Taurus sucks in a breath and I worry I said it out loud, but he jerks his head at the crowd. Rhea is making out with a comic book character wannabe. My eyes pop open, seeing the hand on her ass. I was not expecting that kind of display. I know she can’t shield it from my mate because her mental abilities aren’t magickally enhanced. We’re in for a face blistering lecture when we get home.
After slowing the dance for a moment, Taurus pauses. I lean back to look up at him, a questioning look in my hazy eyes. His hand rests on my tummy lightly as he murmurs, “Something’s off. Do you feel it?”
I’m too bloody distracted by his presence behind me to sense much of anything, but I try. Failing miserably and damned if I want to admit it, I pull away from him. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Hold the hero cape, puss. Let’s see what she’s doing first,” he commands, drawing me back again before I can make the leap over the rail.
I wrinkle my nose and give him a peeved look. “Then you can barge in and thump your chest like a caveman? No way, buster.” I shake his hands off and leap over the rail, hitting the ground with a grunt. Maybe it’s an excessive reaction, but getting some space between me, him, and a colossal breach of community diplomacy means taking any valid escape route I can find. My senses are on fire and my beast is ready to rock and roll.
Am I that worked up and pissed off at the same time? Yep.
Shooting him a glare, I stick my tongue out before turning to push through the throng of people. Before I get a foot into the crowd, I’m yanked back into place with a fistful of my hair. “Ow! Let go, you jackass.”
Smirking, he ignores my command, holding my hair like the caveman I accused him of being. “Are you going to listen this time or go off half-cocked like a frazzled peahen?”
“I’m going to go help her. Let me go before I get pissed.”
“The only thing you’re doing is turning your ass around, sod it all. You’re not inserting yourself into that mix of writhing testosterone dressed—or not so dressed—like you are. The only thing that would accomplish is getting their hands on another piece of meat. You’d end up naked and bruised. I’ll take care of it; you stay put.”
“Not. A. Bloody. Chance.” The bruised comment hits a little too close to home for me and I have to take control back. Besides, who the hell does he think he is giving me orders? One so-so kiss and a lame dance does not make him head dictator on my planet. He acts like nothing happened—which it didn’t—and now he’s turned into cave clone numero uno?
Fuck him.
“Would you stop being so buggering stubborn and let me handle it?” he shouts, giving me a shake.
That, too, pushes a button and ramps up my anger. “No, I won’t.”
A loud growl emits from his chest as he advances on me. I’ve dropped to a fighting stance when a high-pitched screech, followed by a collective gasp, erupts from the dance floor. Our eyes lock, looking wildly confused. We both yell ‘Fuck!’ at the top of our lungs before sprinting into the crowd.
In the middle of the circle is Rhea, looking down at the guy who’d been grinding on her a moment ago. He’s sprawled on the floor, looking ashen under his makeup. I don’t even think about it; I grab her hand and nod at Taurus. Together, we drag her to the door using preternatural speed. It’s obvious that a hasty retreat is necessary as the loud music has stopped. The DJ has a cell phone out and there will definitely be cops here soon.
Despite Rhea’s pallor, Taurus shoves her onto my bike after I mount. We need to get out of here before the stampede for the door begins. Revving the motor on his bike, he waits impatiently as I situate Rhea so she won’t fall off mid-getaway. We take off in unison, not needing words to communicate what we need to do.
I growl under my breath as we speed away, frustrated in so many ways. I wanted her to learn control and how to use her powers, not be afraid of them. This is all his fault and to top it off, he’s leading, and he doesn’t even know where he’s going.
Goddess above, that clone pisses me off.
Hitting the gas, I pull even with him to shout, “You always had to push things so damned far. That’s why we’re in trouble. You knew she couldn’t handle it. Plus, you’re speeding ahead of me and you don’t know where you’re going, dumbass.”
“We wouldn’t be running if you had kept your gob shut and your ass in place so I could stop whatever she was doing. And I know where I’m going—far away from that shithouse before I have to kill people to keep you two out of jail.”
“Where is our destination once we get away from there? I live in this area and you don’t. Let me lead.” I weave around a few cars and a wayward pedestrian, catching back up to him.
“Correction: you used to live around here before you moved into the Rift two years ago. You don’t know it here any better than I do now, so shut up and drive.”
“Screw you, asshole. You’re going to lead us down to a dead end and we’ll get caught with the girl who turned a guy into literal toast.”
He opens his mouth to retort, eyes glittering, when a burst of flame shoots out in front of us, accompanied by an unearthly scream. “Enough!”
Screeching our bikes to a dangerously executed halt, I look at Taurus before blinking in surprise. It takes a minute to realize that it was the previously silent Rhea. We look at her as she climbs off the bike, practically glowing with a smoky anger. Her eyes have a ring of flames around the iris and her hands are on her hips, gaze murderous. “I’ve had it with you both. Some drunk guy is a crispy critter because you guys were too busy pretending you don’t want to jump one another to come help me. If you don’t get it together, I’m leaving you to get each other killed.”
“What? I wouldn’t touch that hellcat with a ten-foot pole,” Taurus roars indignantly.
Furious, I eye his crotch with an evil grin on my face. “That is definitely not the case, so I don’t think we have a problem, test-tube baby.” That should injure his enormous ego and make him regret having his grubby hands all over me, only to act like I have a communicable disease.
He’s so fucking stuffed with himself.
Rhea gives me a look as if she can’t believe I even spoke. “You coddled me all night long like a little kid. But when my ass was in the fire, you were too busy showing off your toe picks.” She stomps her foot in frustration and gives me a pointed look, knowing I’ll get the reference to one of our favorite movies.
My eyes fly wide open as my jaw drops.
She can’t be saying that I—She’s not possibly hinting that—Oh, she has got to be kidding me.
I wrinkle my nose at her. “Toe picks? You are out of your French-fried brain, sister. I am absolutely not going to?—”
Taurus snorts and mutters something under his breath that I barely catch, causing me to shoot a venomous look at him.
Rhea looks from him to me, and her eyes burn. “That’s it. I’m out of here. You get a ride with him since you’re both so damned eager to put your hands all over each other. I’m going home.” She shoves me off the bike and I land hard on my ass.
I can hear gears grinding in her wake and let me tell you, Alistair will be pissed. Hopefully, she makes it home before she burns the clutch out. Taurus looks down at me, and I swear I’m going to smack the smirk off his face. It doesn’t help that I’m sitting ass deep in a puddle, either.
He quirks his brow at me. I hate that. “Toe picks?”
No freaking way am I touching that. As if I want him all lusty and naked. Whatever.
I reach up and punch his thigh, hoping to cause a super painful charley horse. It would serve him right. “This is all your fault.”
“Oh, look, the baby kitten has claws. Isn’t that cute?” His smug look infuriates me as he pretends he doesn’t feel the charley horse.
Seriously? He’s taunting me?
I ponder walking home rather than having to ride with him. It’s my tough luck that we’re damn far from the portal, or even my old house. Shit. I’d have to walk through some rough neighborhoods to get there on foot, and as angry as I am now, I might kill someone. I’m brave, not foolish. I look over at him, feeling the hatred flow through me. Toe picks. Damn Rhea for saying that and taking off like a child. I’m going to beat her.
Hauling myself to my feet, I try to look more dignified than I feel. “Are we going to get out of here, or are you going to stand there and grin at me like a boob? Frankly, you could do that somewhere a lot more comfortable than in the ghetto.”
His expression goes from amused to inscrutable, and I’m not sure what is going through his mind. He keeps looking at me and I get more impatient as his stare makes my skin crawl.
Stomping over, I poke him in the chest. “Look, I’d love to sit here all night and get studied like a big bug, but I’d like to make sure Rhea got home okay. More than that, I’d like to get out of these clothes before they become permanently tattooed on my skin. If you’ll get back on the bike, I’ll drive us back to the portal, or whatever the hell your eggheads want to call it.”
He cocks at eyebrow at me, snorting. “The train of loonies has jumped right off the bloody track if you think you’re driving my bike, baby. No way, no how.”
“Listen, jackass, I won’t hurt your precious bike. I’ll say it again: you don’t know where you’re going around here. It only makes sense for me to drive until we get to the portal.” I attempt to throw a leg over the bike, but it doesn’t even have time to meet leather before he yanks me off balance. I almost fall into the puddle again and I have to dig my nails into my palm to keep from punching him. His manhandling is pissing me the hell off.
“If you so much as drop a tush to that front seat, you’ll go from minx to Manx in a breath, woman. Ratchet back the bitch factor a good ninety degrees, or I’ll leave your ass here to rot. In case it’s gotten lost in that echoing chamber in your head, I found my way here once and I can do it again by scent. If you want to go around or two, fine. It’s no skin off my ass one way or the other; I’m always in the mood to brawl. But I’m not doing it here, so shut your bloody mouth, get on the sodding bike, and act like you aren’t the prickliest thing this side of the Mojave for the half hour that it’ll take to get us to your place!”
Everything flies out of my brain as I try to process the anger flowing through me. Nothing bothers that idiot, and everything is bothering the hell out of me. It’s so irritating that I might explode in a shower of fur and glitter. The only thing he gives a shit about is his bike and his fancy clothes. I got in a few lovely insults, but it bounced right off him. He doesn’t even give a damn that Rhea alluded that I’m hot for his body and I know he got that reference.
Taurus is a grade A prick.
I’m something to occupy him for a while until he feels like tucking back into his secret hiding place. It’s obvious that I do not matter. He doesn’t care that I’m angry or that he was grinding against me in that club like we were naked. It doesn’t matter that it made me tingle and want him—because I don’t.
Fine. He doesn’t matter to me, either. I called him for some wild times, but I have people who love me. Running around with him was supposed to help me get past the ugliness I feel when I’m at home. He was supposed to help me forget what Rafe and I don’t talk about.
He was supposed to be an escape, but he’s not a good one right now. I do not need another man ordering me around like a chattel. I don’t need someone else to beat on me emotionally or physically. I should be more careful about what I wish for, because I thought I had a perfect life. Then my beast came, and it all went to shit just like tonight has.
Now this is ruined, too. Fine. I don’t need him, anyway.
I square my shoulders, dropping the unaffected mask of that I give Wilde. I swore that no one else would get that satisfaction from my pain after December. I take his extended hand and hop onto the bike silently. I’ll show him that nothing he does or says bothers me. Ignoring the wary look he gives me when I stop ranting, I take a deep breath. I need to keep it together long enough to sequester myself back in my room, lock myself away and hope for the best.
Sitting behind him, I put enough space between us to make it easier to breathe, but not be dangerous. He guns the motor and I close my eyes. It’s a good thing that I’m not the least bit interested in him, his moods, or his made for death and sex body. It might hurt to think he doesn’t care, but I don’t let this shit hurt me anymore. No one is allowed into my castle that isn’t in already.
I don’t care, and it doesn’t hurt. I am going to kill him, though.