I scanned the many faces, some of which appeared human, but I wasn’t fooled. My eyes settled on the only one who stood out—not because he was different, but because he was their leader. They circled him like starving dogs anxious to devour whatever scrap of attention he might toss them. But Boaz paid little heed—his focus was entirely on me. His eyes bore into mine like those of a predatory animal. I could practically hear him snarling from across the room.
Frightened, I turned back to continue up the stairs, this time using the handrail for support. The invisible caresses continued until I was out of his view.
Safely hidden on the second floor, I leaned against a white pillar, my breaths coming in short gasps. My toes tingled, and a familiar, dark feeling crept up my body—magic. Relax. I couldn’t let myself feel it, not here, not now, not ever.
A ways away, I spotted the narrow staircase leading to the kitchen. I descended the steps quickly and darted through the hot, steamy room, ignoring the staff’s curious looks. I paused at the entrance to the ballroom. It would take twenty steps to reach the glass doors that opened to the veranda. I can make it.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and counted to three. Go! My eyes snapped open, and I bolted.
Fifteen steps left.
Ten steps.
Three.
I reached to push the door open but froze when I heard my name. The beguiling voice of the devil himself. I turned around slowly.
“Yes?” I asked Boaz, desperately trying to sound curt.
“Will you give me the pleasure of dancing with you?” He extended his hand.
“I don’t feel well.”
“One dance, love.”
Before I could refuse, he took hold of my arm and pulled me onto the dance floor. When we reached the center of the room, he spun me to him and wrapped his arm around my waist, pressing me to his chest.
“Try to have fun,” he said. “This is a party after all.”
I avoided his eyes, instead staring beyond to envious faces. The song ended and another began: a bitter harmony of plucked violins and sobbing French horns. It was a torturous melody—one that should be played for the dead, not the living. Boaz’s lip twitched into a subtle smile, as if he knew what I was thinking.
I did my best to act indifferent, but if I came across as cold, Boaz gave no indication. He held me close as if we were lovers, and I couldn’t help but blush. Every touch, every sway of his body, overwhelmed me—whether from revulsion or pleasure, I couldn’t be sure.
Finally, he pulled away and asked, “Why are you afraid?”
I swallowed hard. “I’m not.”
“You’re a horrible liar. Look at me.”
I turned to him. My body weakened, and he tightened his grip.
“Why are you frightened?” he asked again.
I bit the inside of my cheek. “There’s something about you. I don’t know—”
“What do you feel?”
I tried to articulate my emotions. “I feel as if I’m spinning and can’t keep my balance.”
“The power. Intoxicating, isn’t it?” Boaz danced flawlessly, every step obeying his silent command like the tides obey the moon. Other dancing couples retreated from his path as if he were royalty. I didn’t know his real age, but by the way he spoke and carried himself, I’d guess centuries. Maybe he had been royalty at one point in time.
“Do you always get this much attention?” I asked.
“They know to respect power when they see it.”
“Arrogant much?”
He moved his head back and looked at me, dark eyes wide. “It’s not me, love. It’s us.”
“There is no us.”
Boaz smiled. “Your parents are watching.”
I glanced behind him. Sure enough, Erik and Sable stared in our direction. Sable especially looked excited, her nose scrunched up, hands rubbing together as if anticipating a winning lottery number.
“Why do you think they look so eager?” Boaz asked. He spun me out and brought me back into his arms.
“Because you are their type, and they’d like nothing more than to see me with you.”
“And what would you like, Eve?”
His question surprised me. No one had ever asked me that. “I want to be free to do as I please.”
The smile on his face spread.
“Is something funny?” I asked.
“How would you like to play a little joke on your parents? Teach them a lesson for spying?”
“Like what?”
“Slap me,” he ordered.
“What?”
“Slap me as hard as you can and walk away. Your parents will be furious, and you may pay for it later, but I promise their expressions will be well worth it—and you might actually enjoy it.”
I didn’t have to think twice. I stepped away and let my hand fly. It struck his face hard, stinging my palm.
I glanced over at my parents who looked as though I’d struck them rather than Boaz. Their eyebrows were pulled tightly together, and their mouths turned down. Lines I never knew existed appeared in sync with bulging veins on their necks. It was a comical scene, for they were still trying to keep up the appearance of having a wonderful time. Their poor faces looked as if they were having twin seizures.
I grinned and walked away. That felt much better than I’d expected. I headed straight to the veranda and stepped into the night, strangely elated. That was the first time I’d done exactly what I wanted without fearing the consequences.