But eventually, Solon turns into a social butterfly in this place, and soon he’s going around, having deep conversations with people, leaving me on my own.
Okay, well I’m not on my own.
I smile up at Wolf, who is sticking by my side.
“You don’t have to babysit me,” I tell him. “I know that’s your job when Solon isn’t around.”
Wolf gives me a charming smile, looking devilishly handsome in his white tux. “Perhaps I like your company, Lenore, did you ever think of that?”
“Phhff,” I wave him away. “I’m not the company you crave.”
He frowns at me, sparks in his golden eyes. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” I say, leaning in close, knowing how good everyone’s hearing is, “I’ve seen the way you look at Amethyst.”
He gazes at me steadily. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, half-witch.”
I can’t help but smile at my new nickname. If he’s trying to be insulting, it isn’t working. “Me think you doth protest too much,” I tease.
“Whatever,” he says, folding his arms across his chest and looking elsewhere. Hey, if Amethyst can tell me how I feel about Solon, I can tell Wolf how he feels about Amethyst.
“Is that a band?” I ask, looking at the stage where five musicians have gathered. I hadn’t even noticed they’d set up, with a drum set and everything.
“The live music is one of the biggest draws,” Wolf tells me as he faces the stage. “Well, that and the blood. And the band is the best you’ll ever hear. Probably because they’ve had centuries of practice.” He gives me a wink.
They start up, jumping into “Fly me to the Moon,” by Frank Sinatra. The singer looks nothing like Frank with his longish blonde hair, but he sure does sound like him.
“Care to dance?” Wolf asks me.
I stare at him, then look at all the vampires taking to the dance floor, all of them moving in perfect synchronicity. They’ve also had centuries of practice.
“I’ve never danced like that before,” I admit sheepishly. “Even at prom, I was getting high in the back of my date’s truck most of the time.”
Wolf laughs and holds out his hand for me. “It’s just a waltz. Very simple. Plus, the vampires who have just turned are as lost as you are.”
I shake my head, not willing to be a fool.
“You chicken?” he asks.
I give him a dirty look. “I am not chicken.”
“I mean, Solon is already dancing with Sade,” he says.
“What?” I look around him and see Solon waltzing with a gorgeous ebony-skinned vampire in a beautiful white satin dress. “Sade the singer? That’s not Sade.”
“She calls herself Sade because she sings at a local jazz club, doing Sade cover songs. She’ll do one soon, you’ll see.”
Well, I can’t fault Solon for dancing with her, especially as they seem to be in deep conversation as they effortlessly glide across the dance floor. They’re truly mesmerizing to watch, and my heart pangs with jealousy, admiration, and longing. He truly is the most beautiful being on the face of this earth, his masculinity and grace combining to make a spellbinding package that makes the whole room watch.
“Think you’ve picked it up enough?” Wolf asks in a wry tone.
I sigh loudly, and as he puts his hand out for me again, I plunk mine in his. “I’m warning you, I’ve got no rhythm.”
He gives me a cheeky grin as he grasps my hand, pulling me to him. “As I recall, the two of us found a rhythm quite easily.”
I don’t have to think long to know what he’s talking about.
“For your information,” I tell him as he puts his hand at my lower back, my cheeks on fire, “I don’t remember much of that.”
Another grin. “That’s okay. I remember enough for the both of us.”
I roll my eyes, feeling mortified. I know I wasn’t myself at all during the “lust” stage (although, to be fair, I was just as desperate for Solon’s touch then as I am now), but even so, what I do remember is a doozy. Wolf has skills, and if he ends up using them on Amethyst one day—if he hasn’t already—then she’s a lucky girl.
But despite whatever rhythm Wolf and I had in the bedroom, it’s not translating to the dance floor. I know he’s supposed to lead and I’m supposed to go backward, but I keep tripping over my own feet and bumping into vampires, trails of “excuse me” and “sorry” following in our wake.
It feels like forever before the song ends and everyone comes to a stop. I look up at Wolf, feeling embarrassed, hoping he doesn’t ask me to dance again. He’s not letting go of me, so that’s not a good sign.
Then a familiar bassline and staccato drumbeat starts up, still a waltz, but more languid and sensual in tempo, accompanied by gritty guitar. Wolf starts to move with me again just as a gorgeous voice rings out across the night club.